#and i went to a dinner party tonight and i felt like such an adult and when i went shopping by myself last week

[trvelyans-archive]

i can’t wait to be a full ass adult living on my own with adult friends and the love of my life. oh my god

[fckinwild-kiwi]

Dec. 13th: Comfort in His Voice

Day 13: Laundry Day/Just Can’t Sleep

Guys, I’ve made it to Day THIRTEEN!! of @comp-lady’s Domestic December writing challenge!

Warnings: Maybe Swearing, *Slight* Allusions to Smut (This is an 18+ blog, minors dni)  Word Counts: 0.8k+ Words Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader

The relationship with Steve, though new, felt natural in a way that brought us both comfort. So much so that sleeping over felt like second nature. It was not often that we found ourselves in separate beds. And even though I still lived at my parent’s house, we ended up splitting the nights pretty equally between our houses. Even though Steve was concerted at first he began to realize that my parents understood that we were both adults and we stayed respectful of their boundaries. Physical intimacy was always something I thought you found within sex. I realized though, the physical intimacy that I craved the most was feeling the weight of his body pressed against mine, no sex on the horizon, just comfort from each other’s touch.

There was something so beautiful in recognizing that, while the sex was extraordinary, it was not the most important part of the relationship. It didn’t compare to knowing that your emotional needs were being met and that you were an equal in the relationship. 

I struggled with falling asleep on nights when we found ourselves at separate houses. I craved the comfort and feeling only Steve could provide when we shared a bed. Tonight, Steve was taking Robin and Eddie to a dive bar in the neighboring town, I decided to stay home because I had to work early the next day. But here it was, 1:30 in the morning with no sleep in my future. The bar had to have been closed or close to closing so I took my chances in calling Steve, hoping his voice would help me find comfort.

After six rings, I heard a voice on the other end, “Hello?”

“Stevie?”

“Baby,” He sighed out. “What’s wrong?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered in the receiver. “Missed you too much. How was your night?”

“I missed you too, baby,” He echoed. “Robin went crazy, the alcohol she drank tonight must have given her a personality change because she suddenly had the most confidence known to woman-kind.”

“Really?” I questioned, giggling at his excitement. “What happened?”

“She had three shots and decided that she found the love of her life, she walked right up to this woman, and within a few minutes they were making out, in front of everyone!”

“No way that was Robin,” I argued. She was a comically shy person in public but with our group of friends she was exceptionally outgoing, I was so happy to hear about her willingness to believe in herself. 

“Oh yeah, so she left with her about an hour later and Eddie decided that he was going to sing karaoke but he was also three shots deep and it didn’t take long for them to kick him off the stage because he was hogging the mic,” Steve said, beginning to laugh at the memory he was sharing. “He took a few more sad shots and then I gathered him up and took him home.”

“Wow, that’s a quick night for you guys,” I continued whispering. “Did you have fun at least?”

“Oh yeah, I did,” Steve reassured me. “I would have had more fun with you there to make fun of Eddie with me.”

“You need to be nicer to him, be a better wingman,” I reprimanded. 

“I know,” Steve sighed into the receiver. “I’ll be better. How was your day today and night?”

“It was fine,” I started. “My boss was on my ass about the new product and its layout for the holidays. I have to finish the setup tomorrow. Dad grilled some hamburgers for dinner and we watched ‘Wheel of Fortune’ after dinner. Some real party animal shit.”

“I hope your day at work goes better today, honey,” Steve said. “If it makes you feel any better, I work the late shift today so I’ll have to do all the restocking and cold calls to remind people to pay their late fees.”

My face fell, I had completely forgotten that Steve was working late today. “It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Will you do me a favor,” Steve whispered back to you even though he had no reason to be quiet. “Tomorrow, when you leave work, will you come to my place? Stay with me?”

“Yes, please,” I said, releasing a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“I just sleep better when we are together,” Steve said, rambling. “You’ll be here for a few hours before I get here but all of your favorite snacks are in the pantry. If you’d rather stay at home, I get it and I could come to you. But if you’d rather have another night apart, I get that-.”

“Stevie,” I interrupted him. “I don’t want another night apart, I sleep better next to you too. In case you forgot, I couldn’t sleep tonight and I called you at almost two in the morning because I missed you so much. After work, I’ll head home to yours, I’ll even make you dinner for when you get home.”

“I love you,” Steve mumbled into the receiver. I could tell that sleep was starting to creep up on him. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“I love you too, handsome,” I echoed. “Get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tonight though sleep came slowly, I found comfort in his words and that would be enough.

[mcufan72]

Cold winter days, a lonely woman on a bench, a stranger in the park...

An Encounter in Winter ❄️

Loki and female reader

Chapter 6

Chapter 5

18+/adult themes/talking/flirting/slow burn/fluff/angst/smut (eventually)

Warnings: filthy thoughts and slightly smutty daydreams, and a kiss but it doesn't always go the way you expect.

In the dining room, the others welcomed you warm-heartedly like yesterday and you were grateful to be allowed to be here. It felt like being a member of a family again, a feeling you really have missed, but you better shouldn't get used to it. You were still a guest. Nonetheless, you decided to enjoy this feeling if only just for this evening.

"Lady y/n, what a pleasure to have you here again. I like to see that you still date my brother. So is he officially courting you now?"

"I don't…know. I don't think so, we're just friends," you answered insecurely and Loki looked at you embarrassed.

"My brother often talks about you."

Thor grinned smugly, wiggled his eyebrows and looked provocatively at Loki. Everyone sitting at the dining table was grinning now. It was so obvious what was going on between you and Loki but two people in this room here were definitely still in denial and in 'refusing to believe'.

And you looked from Thor to Loki and gazed at him astonished but with a thankful smile on your lips.

"Really? Do you?" you asked Loki.

What did these constant innuendos mean?

Loki cleared his throat and if looks could kill, Thor would be dead on the spot.

"Beloved brother, can you please stop getting on Lady y/n's nerves! She's our guest and you don't have to interrogate her. Stop embarrassing her!" he growled, his voice dark and close to being menacing.

You had never heard him talking like this before. Imperious, firm and determined in his voice, prepared for an attack, tensing up his body. Like a king in a leading manner, a god. But with you he was always gentle and kind, his voice always velvety and soothing.

Now you had an idea of how he could be. And you were impressed and…aroused. And…was he protecting you? You felt honoured. Loki, a literal god, was protecting you, officially protecting you.

"We enjoy having you here again tonight. And please, call me Bruce!" He tried to ease up the situation again.

"Thanks, Bruce and I love to be here again. You all have been so nice to me yesterday. It has been of great help that I was allowed to stay the night here."

"There's no need to thank us, we always help friends in need," Steve said while munching his salad.

"Our home is your home, y/n! You're always welcomed here!" Tony added.

"You're really too kind to me!"

Friends? So they saw a friend in you? This came quickly and unexpectedly.

"Please y/n, remember me to ask you something before you leave tonight, okay?" Bruce said to you.

"Okay, I'll do it."

You looked at Loki quizzically but he only shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. He didn't know either what Bruce might want to ask you.

After the dinner, you all went over to the lounge area and sat down on the seats and sofas like yesterday and everyone talked about the upcoming New Year's Party.

You started to shiver because you got cold and you put on Loki's hoodie he had given to you earlier. It was too big for you but it was snuggly and warm and it felt like he would hug you…and it smelled like him…a hint of sandalwood, moss and black oud. It had a calming effect on you and put your soul at ease.

Loki sat across from you in his seat and swallowed hard. You looked so gorgeous and sexy in his hoodie. It was much too big for you but he loved to see you wearing it. He imagined you wearing nothing else than his hoodie in the morning so he could fuck you straight on the kitchen counter before he would make breakfast and fresh coffee for you. He wanted to devour you, make the sweetest love to you, and thrust into you deeply and slowly.

He squirmed in his seat and noticed his cock twitching in his leather trousers. He crossed his legs and put his large hands in his lap to hide the now visible bulge. What would he give to call you his. He would feed you with his love and he would treat you like the queen you are, he would lay down his heart, the world, the nine realms, every universe to your feet. He would die for you if necessary.

When Peter returned from the kitchen with some snacks he came over to you and passed you a mug with hot chocolate and whipped cream.

"You still like cocoa Miss, right?" He smiled friendly at you.

"Oh, yes, I still like cocoa. Thanks, Peter. You're all so lovely to me," you said, laughing thankfully at him.

They were all so nice to you and treated you like a family member and you were definitely not used to it anymore.

You looked at Loki again, he seemed daydreaming. You weren't sure because of the dimmed lights but…were his eyes darker than usual? Darkened with… lust?

You thought about how it would feel to get lost in his demanding embrace, your legs wrapped around his waist, grinding your hips against his, feeling him getting hard, his shamelessly beautiful and veiny hands sliding over your body and between your thighs, spreading them. Your skin began tingling and you felt how your arousal made you wet.

You wanted to be bathed in love and lust by him. You wanted to feel romance and passion again and you would give all of this to him, too. It seemed you were ready to open up your heart for a man again. To tell Loki about your ex was your final liberation from the unhappy relationship you had been in and this chapter of your life was definitely closed now.

"He gave you his favorite hoodie, huh?" Nat, who sat next to you, whispered to your ear.

"What?" You fell out of your filthy dreams.

"Yes! It's his favorite one. He really likes you, believe me, sweetie. As Tony said yesterday, Loki never brought his playmates of the night here…let alone give them his favorite sweater. They always stayed just in his apartment."

You two talked quietly to each other so that no one else could hear you.

"I'm not his 'playmate of the night'," you stated firmly.

"I know, sweetie and I also know that he's falling in love with you. It's so obvious, everyone here can see it. But I think it's up to you to conquer him. With you he's kinda…extremely reserved," and she winked with one eye at you.

"Never saw him like this. And he never keeps his eyes off of you…he protects what's his, I can tell you. You should've recognised it when Thor tried to…"

"I'm not…his!" you said firmly.

"Oh, sweetie you already are…you're wearing his hoodie… mark my words, sweetheart," she smirked and winked at you again.

You gazed at Loki and you saw him staring at you. Could it be? Did he really like you that much and could he imagine you as his lover? As much as you could imagine him to be your lover? He told you that he's not interested in a loving relationship and he also never asked you to share his bed with him. He never tried to kiss you. Was he just a gentleman and nice to you and just wanted to be your friend?

You hadn't the slightest idea where all this would lead. And yet you were still afraid of letting him enter your heart completely. You didn't want to make the same mistakes again. You were so afraid of deeply falling in love with him and being addicted to him; truth be told, it was the only thing you really wanted.

You wanted to be addicted to him, you would do everything for him, and you wanted to give him all the love he was craving for. He was caring and attentive. He treated you with respect and gave you all of his attention. He always wanted you to feel good and safe as if you were his only priority. So why were you still so afraid?

You hoped that you could give him the feeling of being safe with you, too. You wanted to be his safe haven. And, God yes, you wanted to fuck him, in the mornings, in the kitchen, you wanted to rip off his sweatpants of his hips so he could fuck you slowly and deeply, on the kitchen counter before breakfast. You were close to drooling and you quickly took a sip of your cocoa.

When the conversation came to the question of how many guests were supposed to come to the party, Loki sat up straight.

"I've invited another guest. My …I invited y/n to join us on New Year's Eve," he declared.

"Oh yes, fantastic," the others cheered and everyone was delighted to have you at the party.

For them, you were already a part of their family. For them, it was clear that you would be the woman at Loki's side sooner or later…

"Thank you again for the invitation, Loki and I'm so happy to join you all."

"What am I supposed to wear, Nat?" you whispered, tilting your head towards her. "Something very chic? Evening wardrobe?" you asked her quietly.

"Hmmh, yes Tony likes glamorous parties and clothes…and you wear something that makes Mr. God-in-love Laufeyson speechless," and she winked smirking at you.

"Nat !...you're impossible…he's not in love with me!" you answered a little outraged.

"Sure? But you are in love with him, sweetie! Don't waste time, go get 'em!"

"Nat! I'm not!" you scolded her and gasped.

It had become late and the time had come for you to go home. Before you said your goodbyes, Bruce had asked you to talk privately.

Loki escorted you to the main entrance of Stark Tower and waited in the foyer together with you for the cab he had ordered for you. Loki insisted that you return to your home by car. He needed to be sure that you were safe.

"May I ask what Bruce talked with you about?"

"Of course, but you won't believe it. "

"What was it about? "

"He offered me to work with him. For him, for the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. Here, in his laboratory as his assistant and the possibility to continue my studies."

"And? Will you accept it? It's a great offer! "

"It's the best offer and greatest opportunity I could've ever dreamt of. I'll have to think about that tonight, this offer came unexpectedly."

"Yeah, I get that. It's life-changing."

"Yeah, as many things have happened to me in the last weeks."

"Take time for your decision, snowflake. But I'd like to have you here. And you really don't want to stay here tonight? It's late."

You smiled at him slightly amused. You knew Loki would ask you again. It wasn't that you didn't want to stay here, you loved to be together with him, you loved to be here. You just weren't willing to give in to the feelings you had for him, not yet. And Nat was right, you had a crush on him. And if you were honest with yourself you had made your choice already concerning Bruce's offer.

You took off his hoodie to give it back to him, put on your coat and wrapped your scarf around your neck. You closed the distance between you two, pressed the hoodie gently against his chest and tucked a loose strand of his long curls behind his ear.

"I can't, Loki. Thank you for your really snuggly sweater."

He nodded knowingly but he was so sad.

"Please, please keep my hoodie. You will get cold again later, my little snowflake." he whispered.

Tears welled up in your eyes, the endearment tugged at something deep inside of you. You shook your head in no.

"I need a reason to come back, Loki."

"I don't understand that, snowflake," he murmured and wrapped his hoodie around your neck over your scarf and knotted the sweatshirt's sleeves in the front.

"What do you mean by that?" he wanted to know.

"I need your hoodie as a reason to come back here so you can give it to me again and again and again…I would like to have something here that belongs to you and that is always waiting here for me," you whispered soundlessly, scooting closer to his face, your lips almost brushing his.

"I am always waiting here for you, my Lady and I insist you keep my hoodie so there's always a part of me surrounding you," he whispered back and placed his hands gently on your waist.

You clasped his upper arms tenderly and felt his biceps move under your grip. You two were so close to each other that you could feel each other's breath fanning over your faces. But you two didn't dare get any closer.

Outside the door your cab arrived and beeped.

"I must go now." You looked deeply into his eyes.

"I will accompany you to the cab."

"No, please don't, Loki. Please, take it easy on us. See you tomorrow, Sir. Same time, same place," you smiled lovingly at him.

"Same time, same place, my Lady.

Please send me a message when you've arrived home safely."

"I will, Loki, I promise."

Before you let go of him, you pressed a long tender kiss to his cheek, inhaled the scent of his skin, turned around quickly and left the building, one of your hands firmly clutching the sleeves of his hoodie you still kept wrapped around your scarf.

You didn't see the tears that welled up in his eyes. Never before it was so difficult for him to let you go. He wanted to drown in your tenderness. Without you he began to feel lost. After your cab had left, he returned to the compound. Your sweet kiss still lingered on his cheek.

❄️❄️❄️

The last few days until New Year's Eve flew by. Of course, you and Loki met each other daily and you also had your beloved coffee-cocoa dates at the café. And instead of going home after that, you spent the evenings together with Loki in Stark Tower. Mostly in the fireplace lounge, sitting in the armchairs, talking and sometimes holding hands. You two have been closer than ever before but both of you were afraid to lose control and take your relationship to the next level.

Today it was New Year's Eve and you were so unbelievably nervous. It was the first time after the horrible events in your life that you would be at a party and that you wouldn't be alone. And the best thing was you would spend this last night of the year together with Loki and you would also begin the New Year with him…and maybe, just maybe a new life together … with him. And again you realized how fast life could change. It could change within weeks, days.

You dressed up for the party, hoping that Loki would like the outfit you had chosen for tonight. You called a cab to bring you to Stark Tower. Loki told you to give him a call when you have arrived so he could come downstairs to the lobby to escort you to the party on the top floor in the exclusive big and luxurious winter garden lounge of the tower. After you had arrived and entered the foyer you sent him a message and in less than a minute he was there. Loki, the handsome, adorable, loveable, polite gentleman you had the privilege to meet every day and spent time with. Mostly you forgot that he was also a Prince and a God.

He strode towards you, self-confident, his gait perfect, with a royal attitude and with a stunning but adorable arrogance so that you needed all of your strength to not fall to your knees and praise him as your King and God. If he would command you to bend over so he could fuck you here and right away, you would obey immediately. This was still your weakness.

You understood even better now why he never had any problems finding a companion for his lonesome nights. But you knew him better. You knew he would never do it with you …unfortunately? You weren't sure but you've had the opportunity to look behind his fassade, and you had found out that he just wanted to be loved and appreciated and you wanted nothing more than to be the one for him if only he would let you.

He looked stunning tonight in his all-black outfit: a frock coat with a snake motif woven into the fabric, combined with perfect-fitting leather pants, an also black tight-fitting shirt, a waistcoat with the same pattern as the frock coat and a silken tie, classic black patent shoes and his hair was all curly and soft tonight and cascaded down in waves over his broad shoulders. He literally took your breath away. Tonight he definitely looked like a prince. Your Prince.

When he saw you standing there and waiting for him he took a few deep breaths to calm down a bit. He had to hold it together to not run to you, grab you, pull you into his arms and kiss the heck out of you until you were breathless.

You looked gorgeous tonight. Your dress was stunning: it was made of shiny fabric and its appearance changed between turquoise-blue and may-green, depending on the lighting. A fitted, deep-cut top with thin straps, crossed in the back, hugged your breasts perfectly and it emphasized your beautiful cleavage. The floor-length flared skirt with hundreds of rhinestones on it looked great on you and let you sparkle like a diamond. You looked like a princess tonight. His princess…his sparkling snowflake. Your smile enchanted him like always and he was so proud to have you by his side tonight. He wished he could have you by his side forever if only you would let him.

When he had reached you, he took your hand in his and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

"Good evening, my Lady. You look ravishing and it's an honor to be at your side tonight," he welcomed you with his deep husky voice which engulfed you like velvet.

You smiled brightly at him, slightly coy.

"Good evening, Sir. What a pleasure to meet you and spend this special night of the year with you. I'm sure you're the most handsome man tonight," you complimented him.

Loki looked down coyly and smiled, still holding your hand in his, his cheeks turned slightly red. His gaze fell on your coat, which was laying on a small travel bag next to your feet. He pointed his finger at it and he looked quizzically at you.

"Is your guest room still available? I owe you breakfast," you asked him teasingly and smiled at him.

"Of course, darling. You can stay here as long as you want," and a bright smile appeared on his face.

You would stay tonight. What a wonderful gift. The new year couldn't start better.

"5-4-3-2-1- Happy New Year!" you all cheered and raised your glasses.

While everyone fell into each other's arms and peppered kisses to each other's cheeks, Loki pulled you carefully with him to the window fronts of the luxury winter garden. He looked deep into your eyes and held you close to him by your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your glass of champagne still in your hand, not knowing what would happen next.

"Godt nytt år, Loki," you said to him.

"Godt nytt år, snøfnugg," he answered you.

Slowly, very slowly he tilted his head to his right side, leaned in and gave you a long and tender kiss. Just soft lips on soft lips. He pulled you closer to his body, stopped kissing you and let his gaze run over your face to make sure it was okay for you. When you smiled at him positively, he gave you another loving and delicate kiss, just soft lips on soft lips.

He wanted to make everything right, he wanted it to be perfect. He didn't want to rush things or overstep your boundaries. He didn't want to risk losing you. And then he felt his cock getting hard…and you felt it too. You were kind of proud that you had this effect on him because he had the same effect on you, you felt a sweet throbbing between your legs and you two hadn't even kissed passionately. And it shows you that he liked you as a woman more than you dared to hope.

But Loki panicked. His body shouldn't react like this. Not now, not yet but you were too attractive, too seductive and your lips were moistened with the sweetest love potion he had ever tasted. His repressed feelings for you broke free. He wanted you but in a more decent way. You were so precious and sweet and so special to him. He didn't want it to happen like this, you deserved better.

"I'm sorry, my princess, please excuse me. I'm…I'm back in a minute," Loki said quietly.

He cupped your cheeks with his hands and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He looked at you with a guilt-ridden face.

"Loki…let me help to…it's okay, everything is fine," you said quietly and you smiled at him, biting onto your lower lip.

His kisses made your skin tingle and they also made your desire for him bigger. He was shy now. This wonderful, strong and confident man was shy. How could you not fall in love with him?

"Please, just give me a minute, snowflake, it's not your fault, darling, you're perfect, so perfect" he whispered embarrassedly while he rubbed a thumb tenderly over your lips and off he went.

You watched him leave with a soft smile on your face and took a sip of your champagne and went over to the others. You wanted to give him all the time and space he needed. You knew he would come back to you.

"Uuhhh, what was that?" Nat teased you.

"A kiss," you answered, grinning like an idiot.

"Aaannnddd? Was it good?" Nat teased you further.

"Yeah!" you answered shortly, still grinning.

"He liked it too, I would say…"

"Hmmh yeah, I hope so, but I'm not a good kisser…"

"Hisss pantsss became too tight, theee tent I saw in hisss leathers was impressssive, sooo you must be a gooood kisser," Clint, obviously drunk, joined Nat's teasing.

"Think he needsss a moment to cool down…it's going to be a looong looong night for you, girrlll. Beee prepaaaared, he has great ssstamina." Clint said and Nat winked at you.

"You two are impossible," you said playfully, your cheeks reddening and you wished Loki would come back to you soon.

"Don't worry, dear. It was just a question of time. You two are a perfect couple. And as I said, he likes you very much…his hoodie, you know. Cheers, sweetie and a very Happy New Year," and Nat and Clint clinked their glasses with yours. Loki's hoodie…

You missed Loki, you didn't feel offended by him. You wished he wouldn't have gone. You were proud that you affected him so much and you wanted him to be by your side. You would have hidden his erection with your skirt if he had asked you to do it because you would never want him to feel embarrassed in front of others. You wanted him to feel safe with you. But he didn't ask you to do so. He preferred to leave the winter garden for a short while to cool himself down. It was alright for you, you understood him. You knew he felt embarrassed and that he would never try to hurt your feelings."

You saw Thor by the window-front, talking to Bruce and Tony and you went over to them.

"Happy New Year, guys!"

"Happy New Year, y/n!" the three answered in unison.

"Have you already thought about our job offer?" Bruce asked you curiously.

"Oh yes…I would love to work here, for you, for the Avengers. It's a great offer for me and a big opportunity. I also would like to rent an apartment here. I like being here and I don't want to live alone anymore. And it would be a short way to the lab," you laughed.

"You could move in with Loki," Thor grinned.

"What? No! I don't think he would want this. "

"But I think it would be nice for you to live together with my brother…he just kissed you, right? And when you're here you two are always together anyway, I mean…" and Thor shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, but… we're just friends I guess and now he's gone missing. Do you have an idea where he could be, Thor?"

"I'll look for him, Lady y/n…sometimes he acts somewhat…unpredictable."

You couldn't suppress a laugh.

"Thanks for your help, Thor. And…your brother is perfect. Loki is the most wonderful man I've ever met. He's lovable and caring."

"He is, Lady y/n. I look for him and bring him back to you." and off he went.

"So it's sealed? You'll work for and with us?" Tony asked.

"Yesss!" You answered enthusiastically.

"Then welcome to the team and to our family, y/n. And take good care of reindeer games! " Tony stated, shook your hand and congratulated you on your decision.

"I'll do that, I promise. If he lets me."

"He'll let you believe me. He has already fallen for you."

You didn't know what to answer because for you it wasn't that clear yet. You were still insecure.

"Awesome, y/n! Then I'll show you the lab in every detail in the next couple of days," said Bruce happily and shook your hand too.

"Thank you, Bruce, I can't wait to start."

You were overly happy that you had your dream job now but you rather wanted Loki to come back to you.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️💙❄️💙❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Godt nytt år - Happy New Year

Snøfnugg - snowflake

Tags:

@lokisprettygirl @wheredafandomat @smolvenger @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @fictive-sl0th

[up-to-some-good]

18

Happy birthday, Remus Lupin! One of my comfort characters and my favourites. Here's some birthday fluff to commemorate the occasion :)

3 March 1978

Dear Mrs Lupin Hope Mrs Lupin

I hope you're doing well. I wanted to ask you a favour, if you have the time. Could you send me your recipe for your chocolate cake? As you know, it's Remus's birthday next week, and last night's moon was rough, so I wanted to do something special for him.

I hope it's not too much to ask.

Sincerely,

Sirius O. Black

*

Dear Sirius

Please call me Hope. It makes me feel like an old lady to see "Mrs Lupin". Thank you for your letter, and for taking care of my boy (our boy, really). Attached is my chocolate cake recipe, as requested, though I'm not sure how you plan to bake it, since you're not supposed to be in the kitchen. I won't ask any questions. I know you have your ways.

I've just written to Euphemia to ask if you can come stay with us for part of the summer. I'm sure you have big plans after graduation, but I'd love to see you and Remus for a bit before you go into the world as Real Adults.

Have a good term and don't get into too much trouble.

Love,

Hope

*

As far as birthdays went, Remus's 18th birthday was wonderful. It was a Friday, so his friends had planned a big party for the next night after the Hogsmeade visit, giving everyone a quiet night after the week while still allowing themselves to have some fun.

James had somehow acquired helium balloons, which he had attached to Remus's bag, ensuring everyone who passed him in the corridors wished him a happy birthday.

Sirius had, of course, been endlessly sweet all day, walking him to every class, despite needing to be elsewhere, and bribing the house elves to serve waffles for breakfast.

For the first time in a few months, Remus felt completely calm. Even with his fears for the future and upcoming exams, he could comfort himself with the fact that he was surrounded by people who loved him and wouldn't let him slip through the cracks.

After dinner and a marathon study session with Lily, he wandered back to the dorms. Strangely, there was barely any noise when he got to the door. Usually, James and Sirius would be laughing loudly and chatting at this time of night on a Friday, and they never bothered to cast a muffling charm. Tonight, however, he could only hear noise from the common room filtering up the stairs.

Slowly, he opened the door, in case one of his friends was already asleep. As he stepped into the room, he looked around in awe. Instead of the usual mess and chaos, the dorm was quiet and warm. Someone had charmed the candles to float near the ceiling and cast warm light onto the crimson walls. Soft music was playing from the record player and, somehow, the usual smell that seemed to exist simply because of the room's inhabitants was gone.

Remus turned to his bed and found the source of the change: Sirius. He was sitting cross-legged near the headboard with a small tray containing a chocolate cake and a small box in front of him. Remus grinned and went to sit next to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he sat down.

"Happy birthday, Moony," Sirius whispered.

"Thank you, Pads," he responded. "This is so lovely, and just what I needed this week."

Sirius cut them each a slice of cake and handed a plate to Remus, who immediately took a bite, barely waiting for Sirius to pick up his own fork.

"Is this my mom's recipe?" Remus asked quietly.

"Yeah, I owled her for it last week. Is it okay?"

Sirius frowned slightly, checking Remus's face for any signs of discomfort.

"It's perfect, Pads. Thank you."

Remus's eyes started to sting a little as he ate. He hadn't had his mother's chocolate cake on his birthday since he had started at Hogwarts and had sorely missed it.

When they had finished eating, Sirius stacked their plates and picked up the small box from the tray.

"I wanted to give this to you in person," he started nervously. "So you don't feel pressured or anything. I know I already gave you a gift this morning, but this one's a little different and I want you to know that you don't have to say yes now, okay? You can think about it or even say no and I won't be hurt or offended, okay?"

Remus laughed a little, but reached forward to squeeze Sirius's hand in comfort.

"Can I open the gift before you worry about my response?"

Sheepishly, Sirius handed him the box. The wrapping was impeccable, with perfectly folded corners and a ribbon wrapped around it. Remus opened it carefully, trying not to ruin Sirius's hardwork. Inside the box was a small key, attached to a pawprint keyring.

Remus looked up at his boyfriend expectantly.

"I bought a flat," Sirius burst out. "I got my inheritance from Alphard and I went looking in London over Christmas and I found the perfect place so I bought it. There's a fireplace and two bedrooms and so much space for bookshelves. The balcony is tiny, but it's perfect for a little herb garden, and the kitchen has just enough space for two people to move around, and the whole place is just perfect. And I was hoping you'd move in there with me? The whole place is fully paid for, but we can split the costs of water and groceries and that sort of thing, because I know you don't want any handouts, but it can be our place. We can stack your books next to my records and you can drive me crazy by leaving your shoes in the middle of the lounge. In winter we can cuddle by the fire and in summer we can open all the windows and let the breeze in. I know it's a lot, and I'm sure you'll want to talk to your parents and think about it, but I couldn't not ask. And the key's yours, whether you move in or not. But will you? Move in, that is."

Remus looked between his boyfriend and the key, taking in Sirius's wide eyes and the little silver keyring he'd picked out while he processed his little speech.

He could see it so clearly. He'd cook dinner every night and Sirius would wash all the dishes. They'd fall asleep next to each other, the windows open to let in some light. The second bedroom could be his office and he could fill it with research or writing or whatever he was doing and Sirius could study for his healer training in there whole Remus brought him cups of tea and reminded him to take breaks.

"Of course I'll move in with you, Pads," he answered eventually. "I'd love nothing more."

Sirius grinned and pulled Remus into a kiss, sealing the deal. Remus had never seen the apartment, never walked around it and checked it out for himself, but it didn't matter. It was perfect for him for no other reason that Sirius would be in it, and that was enough.

[daechwitatamic]

WWH Drabbles: ALSO FOR CHAPTER 4!!!!!! We cannot forget about the movie night PLEASE, THIS ONE IS A FAV!!! What was he thinking??

What Was Hidden

POV Drabble #6: Not Afraid to Lie

WC: 3k

Warnings: language, angst, Taehyung is an idiot but wbk

The request: By @pamzn and this anon!

A/N: These scenes are from Chapter 4! :) Throwback to when I posted this without context because this is how my brainstorming went (:

Anyway, please enjoy!

Taehyung was hoping he’d see you over the weekend, but considering you’d been sick he hadn’t really had his hopes up. When his longtime friend Leslie texts him to hang out, he doesn’t think twice about it.

He and Leslie were friends going back to elementary school; their dads were business partners, and they’d spent many weekend evenings in the tv room at Taehyung’s house, staying out of the way while the adults talked. They’d been close through middle school - Leslie helping Taehyung with homework almost daily, and Taehyung elbowing his friends to shut them up when they talked about Leslie in the way the middle school boys tend to do. 

The protective roles did two things for them. Firstly, it cemented their friendship. Secondly, it cemented them as only friends, deep in “basically siblings” territory. By high school, they were wing-manning for each other, swapping gossip and homework but nothing else. When they realized they both had been accepted to the same university, they’d laughed; it was exactly the kind of serendipitous thing that had followed their friendship for over a decade already.

Taehyung enjoyed Leslie and her friendship - she was strong, and bold, and didn’t take shit from anyone. Taehyung had always felt that, between the two of them, she was the stronger one, emotionally. 

He’d just never seen her that way. And if she had… she’d never let him know. 

And things had been off with them for a while. They’d spent the first few years at college spending tons of time together - attending the same parties, eating meals together in the caf, studying at the library. But slowly those hang-outs had fizzled, and then their texts grew less frequent. Taehyung had no idea why, but Leslie wasn’t big on talking about feelings, so he’d not pushed it. When she texted him to hang out, he’d jumped at the chance, hoping it was a move back towards how things used to be.

So when Seokjin pokes his head into the living room to tell them he invited “Bridget and Company” over to watch a movie that night, Taehyung doesn’t think anything of it. 

They order dinner instead of cooking that night. Taehyung and Leslie eat up in his room; he sits at his desk, her on his floor. They talk shit, music playing, until the food is gone. Then they venture downstairs for drinks. 

“Taehyung,” Jin says, “will you take the garbages out before the girls come over? They don’t need to know how gross we are.”

Taehyung eyes the garbage can and the recycling can next to it; both nearly overflow. 

“I’ll take the recycling,” Leslie offers, “so you only have to carry one bag.”

Now Taehyung can’t say no without looking like an ass, so he bags up the garbage and the recycling both, handing Leslie the lighter bag. They go out the back door and down the wooden steps, around the side of the house.

“Thanks,” Taehyung tells her, after hoisting the heavy garbage bag into the receptacle. 

“Don’t mention it,” Leslie says easily. “So, is your new girlfriend coming over tonight?”

“If you say something stupid like that and scare her away, I will end you,” Taehyung tells her seriously. Leslie laughs from her belly, low and full. 

“She’s not my girlfriend anyway,” Taehyung grumps, leading them back up the steps. “We’re barely even talking.”

“Are you gonna, like, abandon me to go cuddle?” Leslie teases.

“Are you going to be a menace all night?” Taehyung retorts. 

He can practically feel her grin through the darkness, pleased at having pushed his buttons. 

Taehyung steps back into the kitchen to find Jin helping the girls get drinks. You spot him and smile, raising a hand in greeting. 

“Hey!” Taehyung says. Your smile flickers like a lightbulb that might go out, and then steadies. 

Weird.

Taehyung leads Leslie back in to the living room, where Jungkook and Jimin are arguing over what movie to play. Taehyung plops in his normal spot on the couch, the one he always occupies when it’s just the guys at home. Leslie perches next to him, naturally, since she’s his friend. 

Yoongi leads Kiko out of the kitchen and they sit near each other on the bigger sofa. Beside him, Leslie turns her phone to show Taehyung a stupid meme. He rolls his eyes, laughing. She leans against him, tucking her feet up on the couch to keep them warm. This is all so routine, so normal, that Taehyung barely notices as he shifts his arm over her shoulders to be more comfortable.

“That guy from my chem class just dm’ed me,” she murmurs, looking at her phone. “What do I say?”

Taehyung peers at her screen with her, watching as she tries to navigate the conversation, and almost misses when you and Bridget enter the room, taking the other two spots on the big couch. 

When he does notice, he tries to catch your eye - ready to wave, ask how your day was, ask if you’re feeling better. You don’t look his way, instead turning to talk so quietly to Bridget that Taehyung can’t catch a word. 

As the movie plays, Taehyung continues to try. You keep your eyes on the screen, your chin lifted just a touch too high, defensive. That’s the detail that strikes Taehyung, the thing that tips him off that you aren’t just super into the plot. He looks down at Leslie, who quirks an eyebrow at him. 

She taps her phone and opens a note, typing, ‘she mad at you???’

Taehyung shrugs imperceptibly. Carefully, as to not be detected, he reaches for the phone and slides it onto his own leg.

‘No idea why…’ he types. 

Leslie makes a very Leslie face, one that says, I have a theory.

Taehyung responds to this silent with his own raised eyebrow. She shakes her head but reaches for the phone again, erasing his sentence and typing, ‘you should talk to her later’.

At one point, you turn and your gaze snags on Taehyung’s for just a second. His heart jumps - is now his chance? But you turn away before he can so much as smile, determinedly training your eyes on the tv screen again.

What the fuck, Taehyung thinks, growing frustrated. He runs through the last day in his head; he’s sure he hadn’t said anything stupid.

When you get up, sometime after Yoongi and Kiko disappear down to the basement, Taehyung almost knocks Leslie off the couch in his rush to follow. He needs answers. He’s fine with a silent treatment if he deserves it, but he has no idea what he’d done to piss you off.

When he enters the kitchen behind you, you turn to see who it is. When you spot him, you make a wry half-smile. “Hey,” you say, turning away again. “Am I in your way?”

“No…” Taehyung says slowly. He’s not sure what game you’re playing - you literally ignored him all night, and now you’re acting super casual? “Y/N… are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

His voice comes out wrong. It’s too plaintive, too vulnerable. He shifts, tries to get it together. 

When you turn to look at him, you look genuinely surprised by his question. “What? Of course not.”

Of course not? Then what the fuck is going on?

“You haven’t talked to me all night,” he points out. “You won’t even look at me.”

“I’m trying not to mess things up for you!” you retort, expression sliding a little closer to angry. “How do you think it would look to your girl if I did all that? I’ve dropped guys for less.”

It, honest-to-god, takes Taehyung almost a full minute to figure out what girl you’re talking about. He starts mentally flipping through the girls in his classes, wondering if you’d seen him talking about schoolwork with one of them and got the wrong idea. Then, it hits him. Leslie? Absolutely the hell not.

“She’s not my girl,” he protests. “We aren’t - ugh!” He breaks off, hearing how defensive he sounds. He needs to calm down. Did you really think he’d be that shitty? Is that what you think he’s like? He takes a quick breath, tries to give an explanation. “That’s… not what this is. It’s really not.”

He’s no good with words. He doesn’t know how to express the nature of this friendship, that there’s no threatening element here. 

You, infuriatingly, just shrug. “It’s not my business, Taehyung.”

Just like you’d texted him after the night he got too drunk at the bar with you. And Taehyung might not be good with putting his thoughts and feelings into words, but he’s good at understanding - and he’s understanding you perfectly. “It’s not my business” means “it can’t hurt me”, and he’s not going to stand here and let you get away with that. Not when he knows it’s bullshit.

“That’s your favorite line, huh?” he retorts, crossing his arms. 

“It is when it’s true,” you say calmly - and that pisses him off even more, that you’re calm and unbothered while he’s simmering with fury. He wants to tell you to drop the act, cut the crap, and be honest. 

If you won’t, he will. He makes sure he has eye contact before he says - matching your calm, even tone - “I’m not sleeping with Leslie, Y/N.”

You blink at him in silence, and for a second he feels victorious, like he got through to you, battled past that thick outer wall and made it inside. Then he watches that cold look of yours, the one you sported the whole night he’d met you, as it takes over your face.

“Good for you,” you say flatly. “I don’t know why you feel the need to tell me that.”

Fuck, he’s so mad!

“Based on how you’ve acted all night, apparently I do need to tell you that!” he shouts, and you both turn to check the doorway, to see if his outburst carried. No one from the living room stirs, and you turn back to him, that same cold expression in place.

“You don’t,” you say, shaking your head to emphasize. “There’s nothing going on with you two? Great. There’s nothing going on with us, either. I don’t care what you do.”

Taehyung feels himself take a step backwards and wills himself into stillness. 

This is the fucked up part - he knows it’s a lie. He knows you felt everything he did - at the diner, when he’d video-called you, at tutoring, at the bar. It was starting, he hadn’t imagined it.

So now I know you’re not afraid to lie, he thinks. 

He refuses to play this game with you. There’s nothing going on? Fine. There’s nothing going on.

“Cool,” he says, as tonelessly as he can manage. “Glad we sorted that out.”

He doesn’t give you time to process or react, just turns and retreats back. Most of the occupants of the living room ignore him, but Leslie is looking, and Leslie is sharp. 

“Were you yelling?” she whispers, as he settles back onto the couch next to her, temper still riled up and heart pounding.

He cuts his eyes at her, illogically mad that her presence is what made things fall apart. 

“She thinks we’re… a thing. Wouldn’t listen when I said it isn’t true,” he mutters, eyes on his legs.

Leslie gives him a long, searching look that he can’t, or doesn’t want to, decipher.

“I think I’d like to go home,” she murmurs, her voice incredibly quiet and gentle - very, very unlike her. For this reason, and this reason alone, Taehyung nods slowly instead of pushing the issue. 

“I’m driving Leslie home,” he says to whoever cares enough to listen, reaching for a jacket as he nears the front door. Leslie follows him out to the car, waiting patiently by the passenger side door as he presses the button to unlock it.

They sit in silence for a second as the engine starts, the radio connects to Taehyung’s phone, and the heater whirs to life. 

“Did I piss you off, too?” Taehyung finally asks, feeling defeated.

The look she gives him is somehow pitying. Because she understands what he doesn’t.

“Taehyung,” she says, still gentle, and it’s so glaringly unlike how she’s ever talked to him before that it gives him a rush of adrenaline, like his bodily systems are telling him Danger! Danger! Danger!

“Leslie,” he mimics, because he’s scared and it’s his go-to defense mechanism.

“Imagine how it looks from the outside,” she says, after a long silence. “This thing with you guys has been slowly gaining momentum, and then - to her - you show up with another girl. Did you say anything to her ahead of time, that you were with a friend, or that you were looking forward to seeing her? Anything?”

“....No,” Taehyung admits, gut twisting. It hadn’t occurred to him that he should do that. 

“My dummy,” Leslie says affectionately, reaching over to pat his shoulder. 

“I’m allowed to have friends,” Taehyung defends himself hotly. 

“You are,” Leslie agrees. “But how well does she know you, really? What does she know about you, about your character?”

Taehyung sulks and shifts the car into reverse, finally backing out of the driveway, instead of answering. In his opinion, you should know him better than to think he’d be playing you.

“It’s scary to open up to someone,” Leslie says a few minutes later, prompted by nothing more than her own mind still working over the situation. “It takes a lot to trust someone not to fuck with you.”

Sure, Taehyung thinks. That’s true enough. But, there’s nothing going on with us? I don’t care what you do? Fuck. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Taehuyng mutters, flicking on the turn-signal to pull into campus. “She said she’s done.”

Leslie reaches down to the floor of the car and picks up her purse as Taehyung pulls over in front of her dorm. “Talk to her,” she says, as she unbuckles and opens the car door. She pauses, considers her next words. As she climbs out and turns around to shut the door, she repeats, “Talk to her. She’s not done.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung blurts, leaning forward over the steering wheel to peer at her. “What does that mean?!”

She gives him a tiny smile, shaking her head, and shuts the door. Taehyung keeps his eyes on her, hoping she’ll turn around and give him some answers, but she never looks back.

–

When Taehyung lets himself back into the house, there are no girls in sight, only his house-mates - minus Yoongi. They all turn to look at him as he comes through the door, and one by one they join a slow-clap.

“Oh, fuck you guys,” Taehyung grouses, slapping his keys into the little basket by the door.

“Breaking the hearts of not one but two beautiful women tonight!” Jimin sings, as if overcome with pride for his friend, one hand clutching his chest dramatically. 

“The fuck are you talking about?” Taehyung snaps, eyes narrowing.

“Which part is confusing?” Jungkook asks, lips twitching.

“Well, obviously inviting over Y/N -.”

“I didn’t invite her, Jin did!” Taehyung interrupts Jimin hotly.

“-inviting over Y/N when you already had Leslie over was a super douchey move.”

Taehyung groans, over it. “I know,” he whines. “I didn’t think about it like that. It’s just Leslie.”

“And there you have the breaking of Heart Number Two,” Jimin quips.

Taehyung looks at him blankly. Jimin’s mouth goes slack.

“You don’t know? Oh, my God, look at his face, he doesn’t know.”

Yoongi chooses this moment to breeze through the basement door, heading for the kitchen. “Leslie’s in love with you, you absolute moron.”

“No she’s not,” Taehyung scoffs instinctively, then looks at all the faces in the room, all looking at him like oh, isn’t he cute.

“You had to know,” Jungkook says skeptically. “How could you not know?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer; he’s shocked into silence, into stillness, into fight or flight. He needs time to process this, to deal with it. He needs to enact a game plan to determine if it’s true, he needs to reexamine every interaction they’d had over the last ten years and figure out if he’s been an asshole or just stupid. 

“So which heart are we mending?” Jimin asks, a little kinder now as he watches the clash of emotions on his friend’s face. 

Taehyung’s already mentally gone from the conversation, already mentally up in his room pacing and thinking, already texting Leslie tell me the truth, have I fucked up our friendship at any point, have you been letting me just think it’s okay?

But still, some part of his brain is listening. Some part of his brain knows the answer - the only answer.

“Y/N,” he says simply, and turns for the stairs.

did I....... did I create a secret Plot C for wwh..... oh no....

You can find my full Masterlist here!

[a-sentient-horax]

November 27, 2023 - Part 2

So I've been asking my boyfriend about what he sees, because he's an honest, third party observer with 5 years of context for this woman and her family. One thing that he said is that he felt like she was acting, like constantly. Which makes sense because (as I told him) it seems like my mom has a vision for how every event in her life should look every time it happens, and it has to like, go a certain way exactly how she expects it. My boyfriend called it being the actor and director at the same time. For example, when we were at dinner, my youngest brother asked her a pretty innocuous question. I can't remember what it was but it was something like "Mom, I want to be a fisherman one day!" We were at a seafood place, there were cool fish things all around us, he's a nine year old boy who just saw a fishing rod and went 'hell yeah.' In response, my mom turned her entire body towards him and like, held his hands in hers. She looks him right in the eyes and in a very serious, slow, incredibly emotive voice she starts talking to him about being a fisherman. "Well [my brother], you would have to work on a big boat, do you think you'd like that? And you'd have to be at sea for weeks and weeks, and most fisherman use a net, not a rod." And on and on in a very serious conversation. It's as if she needs every conversation with her children to be a perfect, manicured, core memory where she is a wise, perfect adult giving them life changing information and advice.

And in a way I feel guilty. I laid into my mom before I cut her off, told her what a horrible monster she was for treating me and my siblings the way that she did. I said awful awful things to her (granted, they reflected my genuine emotions in how I felt about her parenting and how it affected me). But I worry that now she is taking it like, every moment could be the moment that she fucks up so bad that one of her kids decides they hate her. Except I remember her talking to me the same way she talked to my youngest brother, so it's something she picked up before I left and before my sister attempted su*c*de. Also it's like, not what my complaint was. I didn't hate my mother because she flippantly answered my questions without giving much care to what she was saying, I hated her because no matter what I did, it was never enough and I was constantly met with over the top, excessive, controlling punishments that were communicated to me via screaming. I was not allowed a childhood, or allowed to try new things or make mistakes without being met with getting my friends taken away from me, losing my privacy, or being bombarded with petty guilt and irrational outbursts. It's like she missed the point. I don't know. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about her, and I don't know how I feel about her.

I will write more on my siblings later, but my mother has totally consumed my thoughts while she was here and even after she has left.

The other person on my mind is the Creep. He and I have a project that is due in two days, then I can pretty much finally be rid of him (thank God). He didn't come to class today, and I doubt he has done his part of the project but honest to God I don't care anymore. After this class I am going to finish the homework I have due tonight, and then just work on our project. I genuinely don't care at all if I have to do the whole thing over the next two days I want this weirdo out of my life forever and I cannot wait for it to be done. Our final in this class is next Wednesday and seriously after that I think I will just never talk to him again. I'm hoping to just turn off read receipts for him only and soft block him on everything. I think he sort of knows this is coming by now, or he should, considering how cold of a shoulder I've been giving him.

He's been like, doing this thing where he tells me all the scary shit he's going through right now. The roommate he paid to come down to Texas with him is mentally unstable. He knew this and still brought him to Texas promising to pay for him to live. As it turns out this roommate doesn't always act exactly how Creep wants him to, so he doesn't like him anymore. He lives in a bad neighborhood where there are gunshots and crime, and since he grew up rich he is scared and bought a gun. After I told him I do not want to talk about guns at all, he continued to bring the topic up, now he says he's bought a gun, and he's also texted me that he misses me and I hope I know I'm loved. Again, after I told him I don't like when he uses those kinds of words with me. He's a boundary pusher and frankly I am not the one. Again, after each time that he has pushed my boundaries or done or said something I explicitly asked him not to do, I have gotten colder. For example, he said that he loves me platonically a month or two back. I told him I dont really feel comfortable with that. So he said it again immediately. I told him that I really don't like that he said it again. He said it AGAIN immediately after, and finally I told him to stop. Then when he tried to reel it back "Oh I just thought you wanted..." I just stopped texting him. And now it's like, he's trying to push my boundaries over and over again and when he does I talk to him less and less. I don't understand what he thinks is going to happen but what IS going to happen is we are never going to talk again after this project. I don't care if he learns his lesson or not, I want to get rid of him. My biggest fear is my boyfriend finds all the weird texts he sent me and like, goes ballistic on this guy, or that it affects our relationship somehow. And as I've said before, it's incredibly hard to explain to a man that this sort of behavior from guys is something that I've dealt with my whole life and it's just going to keep happeneing. There are so many creeps and I'm going to have to put up with all of them. It's dangerous to me, to my career, and to my ability to socialize if I don't deal with this in the subtle way that I am: giving him the cold shoulder until I can block him forever.

I also fear that my boyfriend would see the weird texts and take it as a self-esteem hit or something. That like, other guys are texting his girlfriend weird things and he can't so anything about it or I don't know. The last thing I want is for this Creep to also make my boyfriend feel weird. I just hate that he is in my life. I can't wait to wipe him from my phone and move on to healthier friendships.

[abbatoirablaze]

SDAU-The Right Stuff, Chapter 6

Word Count: 796            

“No, you need to back off.  That’s my little sister.”

“Steve.”

“Omega,” Bucky warned, his hand riding low on the small of Steve’s back.  The lion shivered but didn’t drop his argument.  Instead, he continued to stare Lance down, the two omegas getting protective over their sides in the conversation, “Steve…”

His cerulean eyes shot to his alpha and theta, and Lance looked to Mini, “help me out here, Min.”

The theta sighed before looking at Steve, “Steve…have you talked to your sister about him?  You know, she is an adult, so it is hers and Lance’s choice, should she be interested in him.”

“I don’t need to,” he growled, glaring back at Lance, “I saw the way he was sniffing around all night at dinner.  Stay away from her, Tucker.  She’s not interested in you.”

“Steve…”

“Theta…my little sister doesn’t date.  She-“

“I just-I want to see if we are mates!” Lance said quickly, unwavering in the quickness of his response, “when we touched, I felt sparks running up my arm, but I couldn’t smell her.  I think it-“

“It’s because she’s a zeta!” Steve began, cutting him off with his own blunt reply, “she doesn’t have a scent because she’s a zeta, you asshole!”

Lance felt his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach, “what?”

“Selena is a zeta!” Bucky repeated, “you won’t be able to smell any specific scent coming off of her, Lance.  Just like she won’t come sniffing around you, or have ruts, or any of it.  Selena is Zeta.  And she doesn’t need some omega or any other designation to come sniffing around, giving her some hope that she has a mate!  She’s not like us!”

“Well she-“

“She doesn’t need to date!” Steve said firmly, turning on his heel towards the back door once more, “she is perfectly fine not dating anyone!  Now hurry up and grab the rest of the stuff for the s’mores before anyone gets suspicious.  I’m not going to let you ruin tonight, Tucker.”

And with that Steve made his way back outside to the party that had shifted from in the house to a fire in the back yard. 

“I’m sorry about Steve, Lance…”

“He gets really protective over Selena…”

“Why?” he asked, upset over the fact that Steve wouldn’t at least talk to him about her, “what’s there to be mad about?”

“Selena…she’s been used a lot,” Bucky admitted slowly, “being a zeta is tough, especially when you come from an all-lion pride.  Steve and Sarah are both omegas, but for Selena to be born a zeta…it’s a pretty shameful thing for a very prideful animal.  Their dad turned to drinking, and their mom works overtime in the hospital.  It’s like if she’s a saint everyone will forget about the fact that she couldn’t give Joe Rogers an alpha child.  And Selena…well she’s had plenty of suitors sniff around and give a lot of empty promises.”

Lance felt his heart beginning to ache for the family.  He looked through the sliding door and Mini put a hand on his arm, “hey…it’s okay, omega…”

“I just-I can feel it in my bones,” Lance sighed, not wanting to let go of the conversation, “nothing has ever felt so right in all my life when I look at her…she’s my mate, guys.”

“Then you should know that she’s already got a son…”

“What?”

“She went to a party when she was a sophomore…they took advantage of her…”

Lance felt like his heart was going to stop, “Wh-what?”

“They drugged her,” Bucky admitted angrily, “four seniors made a tape of it, and she nearly dropped out of the pride’s school.  But it helped her in her trial.  Three years of therapy and no real want to be in college, she’s working as a gymnastics coach for little kids…you ever see a little blonde alpha toddling after her, it’s probably Jeremy.”

“She-she didn’t bring him tonight?”

“She’s very particular about who knows about him…” Bucky frowned, “but if she’s really your mate, you should know that she needs the comfort of a good omega…someone that can make her feel safe.  She’s a good kid…”

“I-I want to be that.”

Bucky sighed once more and he grabbed the stuff for the s’mores, “we’ll keep Steve occupied…Mini was sitting with Sarah and Selena beforehand…”

“Steve will be pissed!” Lance admitted.

“Let us deal with Steve!” Mini said with a soft smile.  She looped her arm through Bucky’s and kissed him on the cheek, “you’re such a good man, James…”

“Thank you…” Lance said softly as he watched them leave the kitchen.  He grabbed himself another beer and with a deep breath he told himself that everything was going to be fine.  And he pushed himself outside towards the party. 

Tag List:  @teambarnes72, @lohnes16, @prokey16

[elsannasecretsanta]

gift for asksillysisters

It was December, and that meant it was cold. Very cold. Elsa, naturally, loved this. She was thriving.

It was a Friday, and that meant it was date night, and she and Anna would be celebrating Christmas together - dinner, visiting their parents’ graves, opening each other’s presents, drinking tons of wine, and watching shitty but cute Hallmark Christmas movies.

“Come onnnnn, Elsa!” Anna yelled from downstairs, losing her patience by the minute. She was already dressed up in her formal suit attire - always one to go out with perfect fashion sense.

Elsa, on the other hand, struggled to even wear clothes most days. This time, she wanted to impress Anna, so she searched her closet deeply, every inch and corner, to find the perfect dress.

She had already done her makeup in the way Anna had showed her. Anna was always more elegant and girlish than the blonde, so there were many feminine things Anna had shown her in her adult age.

“A-ha!” Elsa exclaimed as she found the perfect dress and held it up to the light.

It was a light, solid blue, with lace shoulders that extended all the way to her wrists. It had an open back, and extended past her knees. She threw it on wickedly fast, and she was surprised by how comfortable it was. She didn’t think she had ever worn this dress, and was definitely sure Anna had never seen it.

She put her hair in a braid as quick as lightning, and was ready to go.

“Elsa!” Anna yelled as soon as she left their bedroom. “Finally.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine; I’m just very excited. You know how I love Christmas.”

As Elsa stepped into the light from the dark hallway, Anna gasped.

“Woah! Elsa! Damn you look hot. You look amazing, what the fuck?! How long have you had this dress?”

Elsa blushed and withdrew into herself. She felt like a middle school girl when it came to Anna - who was so genuine, so willing to compliment, so careful and gentle with her love. Elsa felt that Anna deserved better than anything she’d be able to provide; she’d be lucky to give half of what Anna gave to her.

“I thought you would like it,” Elsa said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I love it!”

***

Their reservation was a really nice place in the heart of downtown Chicago. It was called ‘The Palm’, a new place they were trying out. They tried to go to a new upscale restaurant for Christmas. This would be their third Christmas together - as a couple; not including their Christmases while they were growing up.

They were served quickly and Elsa ordered their most expensive wine. She allowed herself this one treat, every year, saving up all year for this one special occasion.

“Oh, yes, Elsa the sommelier,” Anna remarked, trying her best to pronounce the French word.

“It’s just right for the occasion.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t!” Anna joked, and gave Elsa her best smile. Her teeth were white and perfect, something Elsa always envied about her. “Honestly, we should get fucked up tonight, like old times.”

Elsa reminisced on their Christmases together in high school and college. Many years they went to Christmas parties, and many years they hosted their own parties. Every year, they would get blacked out, cross-faded, or something along those lines, ending up doing crazy shit together in the middle of the night with their friends. They probably weren’t the best friends on Earth - maybe people they shouldn’t have even hung out with - but the memories they all made together were cherished in Elsa’s middle-aged mind.

“Perhaps,” Elsa replied, teasingly. “What’s in it for me, though?”

“Um, you get to be drunk with the sexiest woman on the planet?”

Elsa turned away quickly, her smile lingering, and she pretended to look around. “Oh? Is she here tonight? Where is she?”

“Oh, please. You’re luckier than you’ve ever comprehended.”

Elsa turned back to look at the redhead, extending her hands out, which Anna graciously accepted with her own. “Oh, Anna. I love you. I know I’m the luckiest person ever every single day. But I don’t think my intestines can handle the way we once partied anymore.”

“You chicken. Kidding! Of course. I love you too, Els.”

***

After their dinner, they visited their parents’ graves, as per tradition. Elsa knew that other people found it sad that they did this on Christmas, but to her, it was a way of including her parents in their celebration of Christmas. It was nice, not depressing.

Their parents were buried together in a cemetery outside of the city, where it was peaceful and quiet.

“Ol’ Aggy and Iduna!” Anna exclaimed. “Merry Christmas!”

She laid down the roses they had bought for them on top of their graves.

“Don’t say ‘Aggy’, Anna.”

“I don’t hear him complaining about it.”

Elsa huffed but didn’t respond. She stood there in silence as she thought to herself. She missed them, of course, but mostly she wondered where they were, or if they were looking down upon the girls now, as she often wondered. What would they think? What would they say?

She knew that they had always wanted them to be successful and live their lives to the fullest - not to incessantly wonder about them. It was hard, though. She loved them very much.

“Okay,” Elsa said finally, and she looped her arm through Anna’s, who escorted her towards the gazebo. They always walked the trails of the cemetery, taking in new things each time they visited.

The gazebo was lit with fairy lights, which Elsa remarked in her mind, because she couldn’t remember exactly if they were there before, or if she forgot about them. She looked out over the field. Oak trees were large and demanding of attention, and the graves were all surrounded by grasses, moss, and trees. It was really a beautiful sight to behold.

“Elsa,” Anna said softly.

“Yes?” Elsa said, turning around - only to find Anna kneeling with one knee on the floor. “What are you doing?”

Anna looked up expectantly at her, a huge smile on her face. “Elsa, my wonderful sister, my beautiful partner, my one-and-only, moon of my life. Will you marry me?”

Elsa started laughing, but ceased when she saw the expression on Anna’s face. “What? Are you serious?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I be, Els?”

“Annnnaaa. You know we can’t get married.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re sisters.”

“So?”

“So… that’s not in the cards for us.”

“It could be. You always play so carefully by the rules. You listen to what everyone tells you about what you can and can’t do. Why can’t we be married? I love you, Elsa. I love you more than words can say. I love you more than any love song has ever tried to convey. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, and I want you to be by my side every step of the way. We can’t be legally married, sure. But you could still be my wife, however that works, whatever way we want it to be. Besides, how could I not propose to you with that dress on? Please say ‘yes’; my leg is getting tired.”

“Anna, in what universe would I say ‘no’ to you?”

“Hopefully not this one!”

“Yes, Anna, yes, I will marry you, whatever way it is or will be. I love you; I’ll always love you, for all of my days.” Elsa started tearing up, while Anna was sobbing as she jumped up and put her entire body around Elsa, and with great strength, lifted her up and spun her around.

They both devolved completely into tears and laughter, and kissed each other long and hard, passionately yet gentle.

***

A few hours after they had gotten home, watched a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie, and blasted themselves with wine, they were exchanging gifts between them.

Some gifts were from friends and other family, but for the most part, they were gifts to each other.

Of course, the biggest gift this year was the engagement ring. It was golden, with an emerald in the middle, adjourned with amethysts running along the band, twisting about with a golden vine that protruded out of the gold and back into itself at the other end.

“I love this ring,” Elsa said suddenly, in her wine-drunk stupor. “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah, I have pretty good taste, huh?”

“I want to get you one. You deserve one, too.”

“Surprise me, then.”

Soon they were climbing into bed (at ten P.M. like the old people they were), cuddling and stealing a few kisses from each other.

Anna broke the silence, quietly. “How great was this Christmas, Els?” she whispered.

“Amazing. Best one yet. It’s going to be difficult to outdo this one in the future.”

“Yet in the future Christmases, you’ll be my wife. That’s pretty awesome.”

“Yeah. It is. I love you so much, Anna.”

“I love you, too, Elsa.”

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 1

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to any kind of emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*. 

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

~~~~~~

You met Billy Russo at an industry conference two years ago. While you didn’t know much about military security at that time, your specialty was online security and both of you ended up attending a lot of the same events. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, magnetic and a total flirt, and it was obvious he was aware of his good looks and used it to his benefit. You didn’t sleep with him during the conference. Something told you his dance card was already full every night. So, instead, you exchanged contact information and left it at that.

 A year later you were hired as a consultant for one of Anvil’s direct competitors and moved to New York City. When Billy called you to meet for drinks, you knew exactly what he was up to. You were no fool. He wanted information on your employer and thought he could charm you into spilling secrets. You told him it wouldn’t work over a second drink, and he simply laughed.

 You didn’t fuck him until a month later. The official reason for the delay was conflicting schedules but mostly it was due to insecurity on your part. To the outside world you were attractive in the kind of way that snuck up on people. You weren’t the type to turn heads, like Billy was, and your fucked up childhood had ensured you didn’t let anyone in easily. It wasn’t until a pep talk from your best friend, Davina, about enjoying Billy Russo for what he was – a fun time and nothing more - did you finally decide to take the leap.

 Fucking Billy had been unlike anything you’d experienced before. You’d had sex before of course, but not the kind of sex that made you lose all of your inhibitions and scream and come for hours. Billy knew how to coax you out of your shell and demand things from him you’d never even knew you wanted. You fucked him in your apartment, his penthouse, the underground parking lot, in his car and that was all within the first week. He had opened up a whole new world for you and you were willing to try anything and do anything he wanted. After that first night together, all the walls you’d built around your heart collapsed. Your best friend warned you repeatedly that great sex made people confuse lust for love, that she was worried you were falling for Billy, but you told her you were an adult and could handle yourself.

 Of course that had been bullshit.

 It had been been almost a year now since you and Billy were sleeping together and you had no idea where you stood with him. You didn’t even know if he was fucking other women, though a part of you suspected he was. If he was with you two nights a week that left five other nights to be with someone else. It clawed at you, knowing you weren’t enough for him. It heightened all of your insecurities, made you believe that you were worthless and ugly just like your abusive father used to scream at you. Of course you’d never tell Billy that. The minute he suspected you were getting attached to him emotionally he’d bolt, he’d already warned you of that. So you kept your thoughts to yourself and let your pain eat away at your insides when he wasn’t with you.

 At least that had been the plan until you saw him on a date with Madani.

 You were at a restaurant with some of your coworkers, enjoying happy hour, when you got up to use the bathroom and spotted Billy sitting in the other corner of the room. The breath rushed out of your lungs, your knees felt weak. They were enraptured with each other, legs intertwined, heads close, a true couple. You knew who she was because he’d let it slip he’d been working with Homeland on something and, you being you, you’d looked her up. Her pictures didn’t do her justice, because she was stunning. And exactly the type of woman Billy would be proud to be seen with.

 After you and Billy started sleeping together, Billy rarely took you out. Sure you guys would go to some hole-in-the-wall places or fast food joints but never to fine restaurants, not like this one. You never complained because why waste time when you could be busy fucking his brains out? Except now that you saw him and Madani sitting only a few feet away from you, and he was proudly holding her hand and being openly affectionate, you realized it had all been by design. He never took you out because he was ashamed of you. If you had been prettier, thinner, sexier, taller – anything but what you already are – he’d want you as more than a fuck buddy. He’d want you as his girlfriend.

 It was a bitter pill to swallow but at least now you knew the truth and that meant you were back in control of your life.

 As much as it hurt, it felt good to know you were the ones making decisions about your future again and they didn’t revolve around Billy. No longer would you be obsessing over what he wanted, what he was doing, if he’d like a certain thing on you or not, if he was fucking someone else or not. You wouldn’t spend hours researching Billy like you did in the past and finding out things about him that he never knew you knew. No, now you were finally free.

 And it was time to move on.

 Tonight was the night of the fundraising gala. Your company had purchased a table and the CEO of your company had personally extended an invite for you to attend. Based on a conversation you had with Billy three weeks ago, you knew he would also be attending to represent Anvil. When you’d first broached the subject you’d hoped he’d asked you to attend as his date – but he hadn’t. At the time you’d reassured herself the reasons were practical. It would be weird for Billy to be sitting at a competitor’s table (if he went with you) and you would risk offending your boss if you sat at Billy’s. But now you knew the truth.

 So, tonight, you were dressed to the nines in a curve-hugging gold dress with a plunging neckline which emphasized all of your assets. Your heels, which cost more than the dress itself, were over five inches high and made you feel like an Amazonian goddess when you sauntered in them.

 When you walked into the ballroom with Davina in your arms that night, you felt confident in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

 The thing about you that a lot of people didn’t know was that you were fucking fantastic at owning a room – despite your insecurities. You may not be beautiful but you were charming. You were really great at getting strangers to open up, people were drawn to you. It was one of the reasons your CEO promoted you so quickly after a few months. Your job, initially at least, was meant to be a technical role but when you were invited to a party with potential clients you had schmoozed them so easily they had signed the contract within the week. And then you had impressed them with your actual technical skills which only cemented their positive impression of you.

 So, yeah, you were in your element and you were ready to charm.

 “What table are we?” Davina asked.

 “14,” you said. Of course your eyes were automatically drawn to Anvil’s table on the seating chart. 157. A safe distance from your table, which meant there was a good chance you two wouldn’t even be crossing paths in the grand ballroom. You didn’t know whether to be overjoyed or disappointed.

 A while later you were circulating around the north bar, chatting up with some potential clients that your boss had wanted you to pay particular attention to when you saw Dinah Madani. She was in one of those slinky, maroon satin dresses, her hair up, and you felt that surge of jealousy go through you again. She was probably here as Billy’s guest considering this wasn’t the kind of events Homeland agents typically attended.

 “Y/N!” You turned to find your boss waving you towards him.

 Glad for the distraction, you picked up two glasses of champagne from a nearby server and headed towards him, handing him his drink. Your boss was chatting to a group of people you vaguely recognized, but the smile on your face stiffened when you spotted Billy amongst them.

 Fuck. He looked good in a tux. His hair was slicked back, and you were struck with the sharp memory of fucking him in his car one night with your fingers roughly fisting his hair. God, you loved his hair, loved running your fingers through the silky strands.

 Billy’s eyebrow quirked up when he saw you and you wondered what he thought of you so dressed up. No. It didn’t matter what he thought of you. Fuck him, you reminded yourself.

 “Y/N is our new Executive Director,” your boss said, introducing you to the group. “Her division has shown a significant growth ever since she joined Valiant.”

 You smiled, shaking hands with everyone. When it was Billy’s turn, you reached out to clasp his hand, not betraying any emotion even though you felt an immediate charge upon touching him. He gave you an amused smile, like he was enjoying the charade.

 “Nice to meet you all,” you said. “And don’t listen to Roger. Valiant was doing fine on its own.”

 “But Y/N has definitely changed the way we do some of our regular operations. I didn’t realize how archaic this industry’s systems and processes were until she came along.”

 “Sounds like I may need to poach Y/N from Valiant,” Billy said with a smug smile, his eyes fixed on you.

 “Anvil couldn’t afford me,” you reciprocated with equal smugness.

 Roger laughed, patting your arm. “We’re not giving her up without a fight.”

 “Clearly,” Billy replied.

 The expression on Billy’s face was new to you, you had no idea what he was thinking but you also didn’t want to waste any more of your time obsessing over him.

 Roger leaned in closer, lowering his voice so others wouldn’t hear him. “Table 35. Those were the clients I told you about.” As you glanced over to the table he mentioned, your eyes met Billy’s. He was watching you intently, still with the unreadable mask on his face.

 Ignoring Billy, you flashed a confident smile up at Roger. “Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”

 You turned back to the group, your gaze skipping past Billy’s. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope you have a great evening.” Bidding everyone goodbye, you headed to Table 35.

 ***

An hour later you were on the terrace, enjoying the cold, crisp New York air that rattled your bone. You were exhausted. Networking took a lot out of you and now you just wanted to go home and soak in the tub. Davina, a natural extrovert, was still in the ballroom, flirting and socializing but you needed a few minutes of privacy so you had snuck outside to compose yourself.

 “Congratulations on the promotion.”

 Your jaw clenched as soon as you heard Billy’s voice from behind you. You turned around to look at him as he swaggered forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

 “You never told me,” he remarked.

 You shrugged your shoulders. “We didn’t tell each other a lot of things.”

 “I get the distinct feeling you’re pissed at me but I don’t know why. Care to fill me in?”

 “What reason would I have to be pissed at you?”

 “You tell me. I’ve called you-”

 “You’ve never called me,” you interjected.

 “Fine. Texted. Whatever.” Billy took a step closer, forcing you to look up at him. Even in your fucking stilettos, he towered over you. “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks now. Why the ghosting?”

 “I just think it’s time I move on.”

 Oh, Billy didn’t like that. His eyes grew darker, so dark they were almost pitch-black. “Really? You’ve got the next one lined up already?”

 As much as you wanted to believe he was jealous, you knew that wasn’t the case. “We both know you don’t give a fuck about me so drop the fake jealousy bit.” You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. You felt his angry breath skim over your skin as he glared down at you. “Let me go, Billy.”

 “Why?” he snarled. “So you can go fuck Roger?”

 “You really expect me to believe you’re jealous of me seeing someone else?” you snapped back. “Or is it because it’s Roger? He’s more successful than you, he’s your competitor, his company has been taking all the contracts you’ve been fighting for and now he’s got you beat in the one area you thought you excelled at. Fucking.” You angled forward on purpose, holding his gaze. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you go fuck Roger and leave me out of it?” You smiled up at him. “Or does Madani not let you stray?”

 Understanding dawned on Billy’s face. “So that’s what this is about.”

Part Two

A/N - This is my first reader insert fic. Hope you guys enjoyed it. If you’d like me to tag you, please leave a comment or DM me.  

If you created this GIF, please let me know so I can give proper credit :)

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E131 (March 30, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Liam O’Brien and Sam Riegel!

Brian points out that a lot of Caleb’s greatest fears have come to pass. Liam: “It’s funny, because he’d kind of believed for a while that those things weren’t going to happen. After a while, he got complacent.” He notes that it was extra wild because everything with Trent popped up again in the midst of that complacency. And how did it feel to be defiant toward Trent? “I think Trent successfully made Caleb question if Caleb really was in control“ at the dinner party. “I feel like anything that I do is part of his plans for me, or is that just gaslighting? I’m legitimately scared of that dude.” Sam: “Of Matt?” Liam: “Sure.” He highlights the disconnect between knowing that the M9 is mechanically powerful and could possibly defeat Trent in a dice-and-stats battle, versus fearing him in a story sense and being convinced he can do almost anything.

Sam, on Luc’s death: “That was brutal, man. Matt Mercer is a-- he hates children! Clearly. He actively sought to kill a child in the campaign in as brutal a way as possible. He hates children and wants them dead. Canon. No, but to RP, that was horrible.” He highlights that so much of Veth’s arc has been about trying to get back to her family. “We had to choose something and we thought we were making the right choice. It was all Veth’s fault, and it was pretty rotten. My heart was beating pretty fast, and I certainly didn’t want to have my son die live on the stream. I don’t know what Veth would have done. That’s the end, that’s over. It’s almost worse than when your own character would die. This is something that would also kill Veth.” After the episode was over: “just shaken. I also didn’t know what to do next! That felt like a turning-point moment for my character, weirdly so close to what we assume to be the end arc of this campaign. I texted Matt later that night and was like, that’s it, Veth’s out, I’m tapping out.”

There’s an interlude in which Sam discovers a new dream to record an episode of this show from his Peloton. Dani informs him that she will not be inviting him back.

On Astrid, Liam: “I literally don’t know what she’s doing. I know that she’s dangerous, she always was ambitious, and there’s not been a moment where Caleb let his guard down with her. He’s not trying to reestablish what they had. He cares for the both of them, for Astrid and Eodwulf. He thinks about it a lot, still. He can’t tell how much she buys into everything that she experienced and is now living as a full-grown adult. He suspects that she’s bought in and is not going to change things, because she believes in the system, as much as he’d like to peel her away. He does believe that they want what’s best for the Empire, and stopping whatever wants to come vomiting out of a hole in the frozen north is good for everyone. And they’re powerful. They’re not trustworthy, obviously. But there’s enough at stake to make it worth it. He could imagine a situation where they fight each other to the death.” He was convinced Astrid was going to stop them when they left the tower and was really shocked when she held back. Sam: “Not me! I’ve trusted Astrid since day one. She’s the greatest! I sent a letter to her, she’s very nice, I think you guys would be a nice couple. I believe every word she says.”

On having to decide on Veth deciding to go off and save the world after Luc’s death. “Like I said, I was ready to be done. And then I decided somewhere in there that that’s not very D&D. So I thought I’d leave it up to somebody else, so I asked Caduceus to decide for me, essentially. She knows she’s putting her other family in danger if she doesn’t go. It’s an impossible choice, you know?” Liam: “I love watching you grapple with it, because you’re a lovely father and love your kids.”

On the Sanatorium, Sam: “That was brutal, man. Matt lulls you into a sense of complacency. We’d forgotten that Caleb was a stone-cold killer! It had been a while since he went on a murder spree. Still got it!” Liam: “I never meant for this character to be perfect sunshine.” Brian: “You don’t say.” Liam: “He’s very not-perfect, and I think in his brain, he was going in with the impression that they needed to get in and get out as soon as possible. The place is crawling with people with magic ability, and I didn’t have faith that we wouldn’t be sussed out or something wasn’t going to blow an illusion.” Everything was about getting out of there as fast as possible.

Did the conversation with Yeza help with Veth’s decision? “First of all, every conversation with Yeza is a beautiful one. Every time she talks to Yeza, it makes her feel good. In some ways, she’s gotten to the point now where she knows Yeza’s going to be supportive, she knows he’s going to allow her to do what she wants, but maybe that’s too much. Maybe she needs to not listen to him, basically, and be like, no, you need to be selfish now, dude, you need to say ‘come home, I’m sick of you leaving’. At a certain point, being supportive can turn into being enabling.”

Cosplay of the Week: Jester in the snow! (liljerbear47, photography by kairiceleste on Instagram)

On Trent’s motivations for chasing Caleb: “I really don’t know. The simplest explanation is to just hammer down the nail that’s sticking up. It has crossed his mind that all high-level wizards are in danger of their own ambition and egos, so it’s occurred to him that Trent might have the same kind of ideas that Halas had in the past, and maybe Caleb was always meant to be another body to jump into. Maybe in some sick, disgusting, twisted way, he wants him to be his successor. I am thinking of the next campaign, without getting too deep in, trying to do something that is much more ride-along. Caleb is very, very specific, and I thought long and hard about all the different pieces on the chessboard for him. For campaign three, I’m looking forward to seeing what happens.”

Dani: “Do I need to be keeping lore on your fucking ads?”

On the cursed dagger: “It was a tricky one, because in campaign one, one of the characters was under the influence of a cursed weapon, but it interacted with him and he knew what it was and what it did. And it affected his gameplay as a character. For me, Veth didn’t know what it was, ever. I as a player knew what it was doing, but Veth didn’t know at all. So it was kind of like my dirty, dark secret for many months. I knew this thing was coming perilously close to killing me, but my character didn’t know enough to bring it up to her friends. Nobody ever asked! So I was like, well, I guess this thing’s just going to kill me one day, and it’s kind of going to be a surprise.” Liam: “Sam, you love danger and self-destruction so much, you might as well be Mollymauk.”

On the fight in Yasha’s sequence, Sam: “You gotta put a character in your storm giant creature. It was so fun! It was so great of Matt to involve us in this encounter. It would’ve been fun just to watch, because Matt would have made it amazing and Ashley was sweating bullets, which is always fun to watch.” Sam notes he felt guilty, but Liam was going for the kill. Liam: “Matt’s gotta be careful about giving me that kind of story beat. I do not fucking care, I just fucking flip, I’m like, well, I’m going to destroy you, and I have no qualms about it. It’s too much fun!”

The Beau/Yasha tower date was in part inspired by not being able to give gifts as easily this last year. “This thing that we do together is a gift, but I love finding these moments, like the book for Jester and the tower for Yasha and for Beau. I really just wanted to give both of them a little magic for a night. I wanted them to leave this-- we’re trying to be as entertaining as possible, but shit is having an effect on all of us too, and I wanted them to have an escape, a great place to escape to.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing group shot, plus Marion, Yeza, and Luc! (vocaz on Twitter)

On choosing Essek over Trent, Liam: “It would have been so interesting and awful and great! Essek and Astrid and Eodwulf are everything that Bren used to be attracted to that are terrible for him. Essek, hopefully he can with time find a way out of the hole that he dug himself into, but it was only two months ago where he was found out and his ambitions came crashing down around him. Long-term, I have high hopes for him, but I think it’s going to be hard.” In contrast, Astrid and Eodwulf are still “deep in the shit. It would have been really hard to navigate, but fun to play at the table. We made the right choice with what we went with. Essek’s just getting started, and Caleb doesn’t trust him entirely, because he was burned so hard not too long ago. He’s still more trustworthy than the other three. So it’s the better choice. While Caleb has all these ties on the other side, they’re really fucking dangerous. So if you have to choose, you choose Essek. But fuck that die.” Sam: “Veth, much like Sam Riegel, makes instant decisions about whether to trust someone or not and sticks to it forever. Astrid, 100% trust. Eodwulf, 100% distrust. Essek, completely distrust. I still don’t think he’s a good guy. Ikithon? Trust. 100%. Because you know where he’s coming forward, you know what he wants. I still want him dead, but I trust him.”

On Veth’s post-adventuring plans: “Veth is probably still too in it right now to think about what comes next. I, Sam Riegel, have a good idea of what I want Veth to do post-campaign.” Brian: “Maybe you shouldn’t tell us. Save it for the show!” Sam: “All she knows is she can’t do this anymore. It’s very unhealthy to be battle-wounded every other day. It’s fun for a while, but college has to end at some point, and she’s gotta go home.”

On Frumpkin changing appearance and returning to the Feywild: “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but the way it feels now for Caleb is that he feels too enmeshed in everything that has happened, and too much good has happened, and too much needs to happened, that that really narcissistic, selfish goal has the risk of harming everything else, which is more important. And that’s how he looks at it now. So he’s gearing towards letting everything from the beginning of the campaign, and where he started, go, and trying to figure out what use he’s going to be now and what he’s going to do if they’re not all dead. If Matt throws that shit down, I don’t know what I will do, I think about it a lot. But turning Frumpkin white and saying you’re free either way is him preparing to let go of everything he’s been holding on to for a really long time. He’s addicted to that idea that he can fix himself, and we’ll see if that hard choice gets presented, what he might do. But where he stands now, he doesn’t think that’s going to be reality, and he sees a way that he can be of use that he never really anticipated before, so he’s slowly shifting gears towards living with the pain he was trying to remove.”

On the last request scene and confidence heading into Aeor, Sam: “I feel like that’s a good request. I think all of us realized that if we die, that probably bodes badly for the world. I feel like all of us are at a point now as characters and as friends, that the first order of business would be to take care of everybody else’s shit, although we probably have different ideas of how to do that.” Liam: “I want the Empire to be healed, Caleb has all these memories of his parents and what they wanted for the world, and he wants that too. It’s clearly not in place now, the system needs to be broken and replaced. That could be a part of Caleb’s sunset. I don’t want Caleb to die, so maybe he can work on that after. As everything starts to shake out and we start heading towards our destiny, Caleb’s just free-floating. He’s not even going after the same thing he started for. So he’s looking at Veth’s family, and Luc specifically, and seeing that’s me, that’s a little boy in the Empire.”

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 15

Chapter 1     Chapter 14

Possible trigger warning.  I mention that sexual assault and worse has happened during some akuma attacks.  I don’t describe anything or say who it happened to (it didn’t happen to anyone we know) but wanted to warn readers that it is brought up.

This room really was a ridiculous room, Marinette decided.  The dining table was large enough to seat twenty.  Who needed a casual dining table that large?  Honestly.  Not to mention, a dining table that large meant there was more than enough room for Alfred to join them, but he never did.

And bringing the food out on silver trays. Did they do that just because she was here?  She kind of hoped it was because the idea of doing it everyday…  She looked over to Adrien to roll her eyes at the opulence, but he just went with it like it was completely expected.  Marinette shook her head.  Damn rich people.  She looked up just in time to catch Duke’s eyes.  He looked at the silver trays with a pointed look and rolled his eyes. Marinette giggled and nodded back.

“I forgot to ask the other day,” Dick started with a disarming smile.  “How did you two meet and when?”

And there it was again.  A perfectly normal question.  A very common question.  A question they would expect to be asked.  But there was something off in the way he asked it.  Something that just triggered her senses.  She could feel a difference in it, like its very existence disrupted the peace of the dinner.

Adrien looked over at her with a broad smile and nodded to her, letting her know she was supposed to answer it.  She plastered on a friendly smile.  “We met in school, actually.”

“Oh? Maternelle or older?”  Dick smiled again, his face perfectly emulating interest in his sister’s friend.  Markov would never be able to tell the difference.  But Marinette could.  He was fishing.  She just didn’t know what he was fishing for.

“Older,” she answered curtly.

Dick seemed to get the message that she was not happy and backed off, metaphorically and literally, leaning away from them in his chair.  His smooth smile morphed into a mock frown.  “Oh that’s a shame.  I was hoping for stories or pictures of baby Marinette.”

“Oh, baby Mari was adorable,” Adrien gushed, with a teasing grin to Marinette.

Tim quirked his head to the side.  “I thought you said you two didn’t meet until you were older.”

Adrien’s grin widened.  “We didn’t.  Not until we were in collège and she yelled at me for something I didn’t do.”

“I didn’t yell at you,” Marinette objected in mock offense, slapping his arm. “I informed you that you were a contemptible dirtbag in a harsh tone.”

Jason barked a laugh.  “Right, big difference.”

Marinette whirled on him, her serious expression contradicted by her lips trying to quirk up at the corners at his teasing.  “There is!  It was a quietly harsh tone.  There was no yelling.”  She turned back to Adrien.  “And I apologized for that.”

“Yeah, like years later and not because you wanted to,” he rolled his eyes.

“Only because I couldn’t really talk to you for, like, ever after that,” she groused playfully.  She pushed her food around on her plate with a pout.

“Apologies are hard,” Cass nodded in agreement.

Marinette beamed at her.  “Yes.  Thank you, Cass.  See,” she motioned to Cass so Adrien would look, “Cass has my back.  She agrees.”

“With what?” Duke laughed.

“Your input is not needed!” Marinette chastised him, trying hard not to laugh.  But when Duke cracked up and started laughing hard enough to have him gasping for breath, so did Marinette.

“Okay but…” Tim started after they’d had enough time to recover.

“Oh, right!” Adrien shook his head.  “There was an akuma that de-aged people.  A mom sad her son was going off to university, so her power was to turn everyone into toddlers again.  Marinette got hit pushing me out of the way of the beam. She turned into the cutest, pudgiest, little toddler you’ve ever seen.”  

Marinette batted his hands away when he leaned over to pinch her cheeks.  He chuckled at Marinette’s pout.  “I hated that one.  I felt so helpless,” she moaned.

“I loved it,” Adrien smiled.  “I got to see all of you guys as babies.  Most of you guys knew each other since childhood so you knew what each other looked like.  Alya and I were the odd ones out.  Plus, no pain.”  He looked back to the rest of the family.  “That was rare; an akuma that didn’t cause massive amounts of pain or trauma.”

“Were they that bad?” Duke asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer he was going to get back.  He had purposefully not looked too hard into akumas precisely because he was afraid of the answer.

Marinette stared intently at her plate in thought, trying to condense the experience into light, dinner topic worthy descriptions because she desperately did not want to discuss akumas tonight… or ever again. The very thought caused shivers down her spine.  “They were… most weren’t… didn’t affect…”  Her words got cut off as her body froze with realization.  Her face scrunched up in pain and she gasped after not having breathed for the last few seconds.  She suddenly pushed away from the table and stood up.  “I think… I need to leave.”

Bruce stood up at the same time and reached out for her. “Marinette are you okay?”  His concern amped up when Cass stood up as well and frowned with concern.

Adrien got to her quicker, gently laying his hands on her arms.  “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it.  We can talk about something else.  You talked with M. Fox this morning, right?  We can talk about that.”

Marinette shook her head.  “I can’t…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, her breath was becoming more ragged the longer she stood there.

“Way to go, Timmy,” Jason groused.

“I didn’t do this!” Tim objected motioning toward Marinette and standing up too.  He wasn’t exactly sure what standing up was supposed to accomplish. She didn’t know him and definitely wouldn’t be comfortable with him trying to comfort her.  It was more of a show of support.  Whatever was going on, he didn’t want to stay sitting like it was nothing.

She looked toward Bruce, her eyes slightly glazed over.  “You… you knew.  You knew about what happened when I was fourteen… and fifteen… and sixteen.  You said you checked in on me frequently, so there’s no way you didn’t know.  You knew and you just… rather than admit I was…”  She looked down at the floor, her face scrunching further as she tried to reconcile the new information.  She backed away more and shook her head, no longer really hearing anything in the room, including Adrien’s loud gasp of realization.  “I… I can’t… be here.  I have to… I need time to…”  

She turned and rushed through the door before anyone could stop her.  She could feel herself shutting down and she needed to stop it.  She knew she needed to stop letting herself turn numb.  She gritted her teeth as her frustration with herself increased.  Why couldn’t she just react normally?  Nobody else on her team did this.  None of their friends reacted this way anymore.  What was wrong with her that she did?

And she had to do it there, in front of everyone. She had to do it in front of him.  Why couldn’t she hold it together for one freaking dinner?  She’s gone through worse.  Why couldn’t she just have DEALT with it, like an adult?  Now she probably ruined the start of their relationship. He was probably going to hate her. He didn’t want to know about that stuff. He didn’t want to deal with those kinds of problems.  Those were her issues, not his.  

He wanted a daughter for the press, not a hot mess of insecurities and anxiety.  He wanted a happy, light, cheery child.  That’s why he sent her away, so that’s who she would become.  That’s probably why Dick was trying to ask all those questions, so they could know just what kind of a broken, messed up, embarrassment of a disaster they were taking on with her.  They needed to know what to prepare for when the press started getting involved.

Back in the dining room, Jason had gone from laughing, to confused, to concerned, to fucking pissed in a matter of seconds.  “What did she go through?” Jason asked through gritted teeth.

Adrien glared at Bruce waiting for him to answer the question.  Bruce looked down dejectedly and Adrien scoffed.  He didn’t bother ripping his glare away from Bruce when he answered for him. “She means Hawkmoth.  She means M. Wayne knew what Hawkmoth was doing and let her stay there when he could have pulled her out at any time.  She means he let her stay and get tormented rather than admit she was his daughter.”

“That is not why I didn’t pull her out of Paris,” Bruce insisted weakly.

“I thought the damage done by Hawkmoth was all reversed,” Duke offered.

“Oh, the physical damage was reversed, but the psychological wasn’t.  The memories weren’t.  Hawkmoth used people’s negative emotions to turn them into monsters, AS YOU KNOW,” he snarled at Bruce.  “For years, if you had a bad day, if you got sad, if you grieved, you could end up killing or torturing or raping someone, maybe someone you cared about, maybe someone you loved, maybe more than one.  

“Didn’t even have to be something big it could just be… my best friend got akumatized because my father said he couldn’t throw me a party for my birthday.  A kid Marinette babysat got akumatized because her mother took away a toy that wasn’t hers, it was Marinette’s actually, so she felt responsible for getting Manon akumatized.  Marinette’s best friends, five of them at once, got akumatized because she didn’t want to tell them something private.  Like that didn’t wrack her with guilt for years.  It didn’t take much to turn you into a nightmare.  In fact, one little kid got akumatized several times because he had a nightmare.  All it took was one moment of feeling down.  If you were lucky, really lucky, you just… stopped feeling… anything.”

Everyone was silent for a few minutes.  Adrien’s glare never wavered the entire time. Finally Dick spoke up softly. “And was Marinette… lucky.”

Adrien sneered at Bruce, “Oh, Marinette was very lucky.  She only got tortured a few times… per month.  She only lost a few limbs.  She only got targeted most of the time.  She only died four or five times, that she remembers, the actual number is significantly higher.  All despite my father targeting her specifically.  You know, nothing worth too much concern. She only watched the people she loved get tortured, screaming for her in agony before they died painful deaths a handful of times.  She only sometimes still goes completely numb rather than feel things.  Not even just bad things, good things too.  If it’s too much, she shuts down so she doesn’t expose herself, so Hawkmoth can’t get her, because we needed her.  It’s automatic.  It’s subconscious.  It’s been five years and she still has to fight the instant reaction.”  

Bruce finally spoke up apprehensively.  God, he really, really didn’t want to know the answer to his next question, but at the same time, he needed to know.  “You mentioned akumas could kill, torture, rape… You said Marinette had been tortured and killed.  Was she ever…”

Adrien’s face scrunched up in anger and frustration. “You don’t get to ask that,” he screamed.  “You didn’t care then, you don’t get to pretend like you care now.  You want an answer to your question, you’ll have to ask her yourself, if you have the balls for it.  Personally, I don’t think you do.  So use your imagination.  I guarantee anything you can imagine, can’t even come close to the things she had to live through.”

He looked down for a moment to try to collect himself.  When he looked back up it was an icy, coldness that made Tim collapse back into his chair.  “So now you need to stop lying to her that you always loved her, you cared at all.”

Damian growled and lunged forward in his chair. “You can’t tell him what he feels. You don’t get to say how he treats one of his children.  You aren’t a part of this family.��

Adrien turned his icy glare to Damian.  “And she is?  Holding her at arm’s length?  Keeping her at a distance?  Not letting her get too close?  Randomly freezing up around her.  Keeping family secrets from her.  Clamming up as soon as she’s nearby.  Sending each other secret looks over her head when you think she won’t see.  She’s not stupid.  She sees what you’re doing, what you’re all doing, she’s just too nice to point it out, too hopeful you’ll actually accept her one day.”  He turned to look at Damian with disgust.  “I might not be a part of this thing you call a family, but I am a part of hers.”  Damian only put up a semblance of a fight when Cass pulled him back down into his chair with a disappointed look.

“You kept in contact to make yourself feel better not because you cared.  Because if you did?  If you did, there’s no way you let her stay in Paris when it would have been so easy for you to do something.  There’s no way you let her get hurt and killed over and over again just so you didn’t have to admit you were related to her.  Nobody who gives even the slightest fuck about anybody, a stranger let alone family, your child, would willingly let them go through that.  Lets them live knowing that crying about a stubbed toe could make them into a killer.

“You could have done something, anything and yet you did nothing.  You didn’t even try.  She wouldn’t have accepted.  She… she was the only reason some of us survived and she knew that.  She was our hope.  She saved us and protected us.  Repeatedly. At her own expense.  Without her…” he looked away.  When he spoke again, his voice was considerably quieter and colder.

“And she knew it.  And she took it all on herself.  She didn’t even tell most people, anyone but me and one other friend really, what she went through and not even all of it.  There’s still things I know she saw but she won’t tell me about. Her own parents didn’t know because she didn’t want them to become akumas, which they’d done before over minor things.  So she dealt with it on her own.  My father barely ever let me out so I couldn’t be there for her almost ever. So she had nobody.  She made sure she didn’t.  Because she didn’t want to be the cause of more suffering.

“So she wouldn’t have taken you up on any offers anyway because she’d never abandon the people she cares about.”  He looked back up to level Bruce with an icy glare that made him lose his breath.  “Guess she gets that from her mother.”

He started to walk away but turned back to the family as he got to the door.  “You know, Marinette and I are a lot alike.  You can do anything you want to us and we’ll probably apologize to you for inconveniencing you.  But you hurt someone we care about?  Not even Hell is far enough away for you to hide in.

“So she’ll forgive you.  That’s who she is.  She will.  Hell, she’ll probably come crawling back in a day or two to apologize to you for the scene she created.  For making you feel uncomfortable.  But I won’t ever forget what you did, what you didn’t do, what you subjected her to. No matter what else you ever do for her, you will not be forgiven.” He stepped closer to Bruce, the ice in his eyes turning darker.  “And if you ever treat her like that again, they’ll never find your body.”

Damian scowled and jumped up.  “Are you threatening my father?”

Adrien didn’t look at him when he responded, continuing to glare at Bruce with a dark, warped look that even made Damian raise an eyebrow.  “I am.” He didn’t even bother slamming the door as he stormed out.  As soon as he passed the threshold, he took off sprinting after Marinette.  She didn’t have the car keys so she was walking… in Gotham… while she was a target.  He cursed and picked up his speed to get to the car.

“B?” Dick asked cautiously.

“No.  No, no, no.” He shook his head violently and looked down, trying to steady his ragged breathing.  “I asked her parents.  I checked. They said she was fine.  They said it was okay.”  He looked up at Dick with haunted eyes.  “I checked.  I made sure.”

“Well you didn’t fucking check well enough did you?” Jason growled.  “You never asked her.”  He threw his napkin on the table and stalked out after Adrien to help comfort Marinette.  Duke looked between them for a moment before sprinting after Jason.

The rest of the family looked down at their plates, except Bruce who wasn’t looking at anything.  He pushed away from the table and stumbled back to his room, a sudden wave of nausea slamming into his body.  Dick opened his mouth a few times only to snap it shut again mutely.  Cass frowned but continued eating slowly. This was new information, but it didn’t change who Marinette was to her.  It was the same Marinette from earlier in the day.  But now she knew more.  Maybe they could bond over childhood trauma like she and Stephanie had.

Damian furrowed his brow and scowled at his food, unable to determine how to interpret the new information and blame Marinette for it. She had done it to herself, clearly. She had allowed herself to stay in that situation.  Obviously it was her own fault she suffered through that… like he had.  Not knowing who to be mad at, he shoved away from the table and went down to the cave to train.

Tim blankly watched him go.  This… this was unsalvageable.  This was… they’d let her down in so many ways.  Him with the gala.  Dick with the questioning Adrien.  Damian with the accusing her and insulting Adrien.  The entire family with the keeping secrets.  And Bruce with the… everything.  How were they supposed to bring this back?  They were worse than his family, his previous family.  The Drakes just ignored him.  They were actively destroying her.  

He took a deep breath and pushed away from the table too.  He would go down to the cave but Damian was already there.  He wanted to patrol, to actually protect someone, like he hadn’t protected her.  He stood up and made his way to the grandfather clock.  Fuck Demon Spawn.  Let him try to fight him right now.  Tim wasn’t in the mood and wouldn’t hold back.  Heaven help any rogues out tonight.

Chapter 16

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[lavishedinjimin]

all the good girls go to hell

— synopsis: The Angels made a deal with Jeon Jungkook, the son of Lucifer, to help them bring Y/n back to her good, prim and proper self. Even though Jungkook grants the atrocious plan, he leaves a lesson that no one should give their trust to a wicked devil like him.

↳ pairing: jungkook x f. reader

↳ genre: smut, very slight angst if you squint hard enough

↳ rating: m/18+

↳ word count: 10k

↳ warnings: religious themes, heaven and hell, angels, devils (this fic is not a correct representation of these figures and is purely fictional), alcohol intake, cursing, hard dom jk, daddy! jk, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, squirting, unprotected sex, breathplay, spanking, face fucking, filthy dirty talk, rough sex, jungkook and his demon cock ehe

a/n: title is inspired by billie eilish’s song all the good girls go to hell. her title inspired me to write this fic! please ignore if you find any errors <3

“You’re not good enough.” 

“You look so pathetic, really.”

“Can you at least try to look hot?” 

“This is why no one likes you.” 

These words will forever haunt you until the day you die. 

It wasn’t your fault that you were raised very strictly, your overly-protective parents treating you like some kind of rare treasure that no one, no man, can touch. The fact that your parents still had to drive you home from school even at an age like this always irritated you to the brim of your existence. So now you can’t even have the freedom, the life of a normal young girl can have. 

Being raised strictly with a heavy-handed family – not to mention religious, too – has taken a toll on your mental health. There’s always the feeling of pressure wherever you go and whatever you do. The fear of not succeeding and disappointing your mom and dad is the worst feeling, like the Devil punching your gut repeatedly, as many times as he likes. 

Plus, some students at your school know you for your lack of “personality”, the boring one, the killjoy. You can’t even refute because it was all true. You never experienced fun, parties, how to have interesting conversations, how to interact with a large crowd, all because of your parents being so uptight in you. 

“Y/n!” The high-pitched voice of your mother calls from downstairs, and you were quick to scurry outside your room and find where she was sitting on the couch. “Yes, mom?” You say. 

She was dressed in a royal-blue dress that goes up to her knees, her hair fixed perfectly and the hairspray is clearly doing a great job of keeping her updo in place. She grabs her purse while your dad walks into view, dressed up in a neat suit. “We’re leaving for our business trip, Y/n. Didn’t I tell you that?” 

“Ah.” You sort of forgot about that. 

Quickly nodding your head, you force a fake smile that you know all too well, “Yes.” 

She gives you a weird glance before she fixes her makeup in a mirror, and your dad decides to continue for her. “We’ve hired a nanny to look after you, so that you won’t go out and about going behind our backs—”

“But dad! I really don’t need someone to babysit me,” You scoff. You weren’t a child anymore, what are they thinking! “I’m an adult. I can handle myself. Don’t you trust me?” 

Trust. Something they don’t have with you, whether they admit it or not. 

Your dad just sighs deeply and starts to walk closer to you. He places a hand on your shoulder as he looks straight into your eyes, giving you an authoritarian look. “Y/n, just do as you’re told and be a good daughter.” 

“I’ve always been one,” you scorn. 

“A good daughter doesn’t talk back.” Your mother retorts. 

This is why you can never argue with them. They never let you speak your own opinion or have your own voice. 

Your parents left exactly at 5 PM as they went on their flight to Madrid, leaving the house all to yourself only for tonight.

It was the next day, and you were sitting on the dining table, eating your cereal peacefully as you watched Netflix on your phone – until the doorbell rings. 

You stand up and quickly make your way to the front door, pouting when you already know that it is the person that was supposed to look after you. 

This is ridiculous. 

“Hello!” A bright, short middle aged woman appears standing on the doorway, her bright energy startling you. “Y/n! I’m May, nice to meet you!” She lifts her hand in front for a handshake, and you chuckle nervously, accepting it. “I’m here to look after you for ten days, hm?” 

“Uh, ah, yeah. C-Come in!” You tried to sound as positive and energized as you could to match her own energy, but you couldn’t. You step aside to let her in, pulling her luggage with her and she immediately takes up the design of the house. She was nodding her head, her arms crossed together while you accompanied her little journeys throughout the whole ground floor. You found her weird. 

“Uh, come follow me, my dad says you’ll be staying here at the guest room —” 

“Wonderful! I thought I was sleeping on the couch!” She claps her hands, excited that she has her own room. 

You look at her with big, shocked eyes, yet you can’t say anything. 

“O-Okay…” you mumbled, “Here,” you helped her open the door and she immediately set her things up. “May?” 

“Yes, my dear?” She stops unpacking her bags to look up at you. “I’ll be at the kitchen, okay? If y-you wanna ask anything, I’m right over there.” 

“Ah, that’s okay, Y/n. Your mother told me everything I need to know. Your bedtime is at eight and no midnight snacks!” 

Your heart drops down to the floor as you immediately encountered a wave of emotions. Why did it matter?! Why did your mom had to apply all these stupid rules when she’s not even around? You thought at the start that you’ll have some kind of freedom when your parents aren’t here, thinking that your nanny might be easier, but perhaps not. 

“Okay.” You say simply. 

How else can you prove to people that you can be better? You're sick of everyone seeing you as the boring one, but your parents were the only thing that was keeping you from having fun. So you decide to be a little risky. 

Step one: Sneak out the house. 

Isn't that what people your age do? Usually they sneak out to party, to go hang out with their friends and have the time of their life. But you had none, no ‘best friend’, but a couple of lunch friends here and there. 

“I should try clubbing.” You mumble to yourself as you sit down on the plush comfort of your mattress. Until you hear your phone chimes, signalling a text. You grab your phone from the bedside table and frown when you see who the text was from. 

Mom: Remember to go to church later, Y/n. 

You didn't reply, instead, it got you thinking. 

Nothing will happen if you skip church, right? You've always attended Mass every Sunday with your parents, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with skipping at least once.

Besides, you need to plot your plans for tonight!

~

“What is this girl doing?” Armaros says in a deep whisper, his well-shaped eyebrows furrowing deeply while he watches Y/n on her phone, laying down on her bed as if church isn't just five minutes away from starting. 

Armaros rushes to the other side of the room to get a better view of her human who lays on her stomach, a white wisp of smoke trailing behind him. He shakes his head, crossing his arms together in front of his chest. “Y/n, Y/n,” he tuts, “What are you doing?!” 

He decides to step forward and reaches forward for his hand to caress the crown of your head. He chuckles when he sees your eyes expand in a quick second, your body abruptly sitting up straight from the tingling feeling in your neck. Your hairs stand up, a chill running down your spine. 

This was Armaros’ way of mustering his presence onto you. Your dad always taught that whenever you suddenly feel a chilling sensation out of nowhere, it means that your guardian angel is there with you and trying to send you a message. 

And you clearly know what he's trying to say. 

There was a slight feeling of guilt – uneasiness, even. But no. You've already decided that you weren't going to follow your old routine. 

Armaros’ jaw drops when you don't move from your position on the bed, only making yourself comfortable even further. ”Don’t you dare skip church...” he slowly whispers to himself. But he quickly shakes his head side to side, trying to be optimistic, “It's just one time. Just one time.” 

Time passes by faster than you think, you sink your teeth down on your bottom lip, chewing on it as you try to Google clubs near you. It was ridiculous, feeling so overwhelmed from all of the options the Internet is showing you. 

There was a generous list of bars and clubs with different ratings. It was a humane decision to choose the best one, right? So you went for a nightclub called ‘Soap Seoul’. Although, you feel your stomach churn when you scroll through the images attached to it; seeing all of the strange blue and red LED lights, big and tight crowds, and an HD picture of their bar. The bar was long and almost occupied the width of the whole club. You don't even know if you can stand such a place like that. 

But no. You can't back out now! You had to show yourself and to others that you can have some fun too. 

~ 

The club opens tonight at 8 pm, letting yourself have two hours to prepare. Rummaging through your garments of clothing, you try to find an appropriate outfit.

“I have nothing!” you whined, eyebrows furrowing in dismay. All you had were simple t-shirts and countless skinny jeans and leggings. Your dresses were almost knee-length and suitable for church – not for a nightclub! 

Armaros stands at a distance, shaking his head at you. 

Until, you heard a loud knock on the door, “Y/n!” May's voice shouts from the other side of the room, “Dinner's ready!” 

Oh no. 

Quickly opening the door, you stared at her with big, worried eyes. “May! I-uhh, I-I’m not gonna stay for dinner…” you mumbled, looking at the ground. 

“Oh, why is that?” she asks, a faint sad tone in her voice. You felt so sad and regretful that you didn't say anything to her because she already cooked your dinner. 

“I-I have plans for tonight,” you hold your hands behind your back, slightly getting embarrassed. 

“Are you going out with your friends?”

“Y-Yeah!” You lie. You've never lied before. 

“Ah, I understand. Have you told your mom?” 

She doesn't have to know. 

“Yup.” 

And there it was again, the chills in your neck appeared while your arm and leg hairs stood up. Armaros touches your scalp, desperate to seek your attention and bring you back to your old, good self. The angel didn't like that you were lying, for he was perpetually accustomed to your good deeds. It was making him anxious for what's about to come. 

But you ignored his message. May nods when you told her that she can have the food to herself. 

You feel a pang of guilt rush through your body when you shut the door behind you, your heartbeat suddenly racing faster. The nervousness in you made your head hurt. Is this the right thing to do? No. It wasn't. But you had to show people that you can be different. Will it be worth it? Of course. 

Thankfully, you spot a white dress that you've never worn before. It was a gift from your cousins that was supposed to be another addition to your collection of church dresses but it was too short for your liking. 

“Hm, maybe this will work…” you quietly mumble to yourself.

You tried the piece of clothing on, carefully examining your reflection in the full-length mirror. The hem of the skirt falls right above your mid-thigh, too high for your usual comfort but for the sake of dressing up for a nightclub — there was no problem. The dress was snug, hugging your body so that it accentuates your curves.

The dress was plain white and was relatively simple. You don't really know what people usually wear for nightclubs but you were certain that dresses were a part of the code. 

You looked for your black three-inch heel that you last wore during your highschool graduation, slipping it in carefully. Doing a little bit of makeup and applying a thin layer of lip gloss, you grabbed a purse and walked out of your room. 

“May, please don't wait for me, okay?” you say after walking past her. 

“W-Wait, I'm supposed to–”

“It's okay. I'll be okay.”

“She's not gonna be okay!” Armaros declares, kneeling on one knee before Archangel Michael – the protector and the spiritual warrior, as he mentions Y/n's recent mischiefs.

After you've been to the nightclub the first day, you've never stopped. You became addicted. 

Sometimes you don't even tell May that you're going out, you just sneak out of the window and let May worry about you. You've happened to know how to drink as you get wasted every single night, hanging around with people that you don't know, people that are a bad influence on your good side. These past few days had you acting up like you’ve never before. You longed for alcohol and the feeling of it numbing your nerves, and there’s not a day where you didn’t get drunk.

Armaros’ power wasn't enough to stop you. Every single day he's been drying his best to send signals, to make you feel certain ways and speak to your consciousness that what you are doing is by far dangerous and wrong. But you never listened. 

You've skipped church, stopped talking to God, ignoring your parents’ phone calls, not doing your homework just because you're busy either getting drunk or making out with someone at the club. It's like you have been addicted to misbehaving. 

But for you, you thought you’re doing the right thing. 

“Armaros, are you doubting your powers?” Archangel Michael replies, running his fingertips along the sharp blade of his sword. 

“N-No, but, nothing seems to work. She's been ignoring my calls for almost two weeks. I just want the best for her.” Armaros’ voice fades at the end of his sentence. He was speaking with such sincerity because he really cares for Y/n. He truly loves her. “Why is she doing this?” He asks for help.

“Because, my dear, she's trying to prove something she's not for other people.”

“What?” 

Archangel Michael laughs quietly, staring at him endearingly. He points his sword at him, “She obviously tries to be immoral to fit in. She's rarely praying to God like she used to, rarely respecting the people around her. Ever since humans bullied Y/n for being herself – she starts to change. But the question is…”

He walks around Armaros, his eyes never leaving his. “Is this making her happy?” 

Armaros lowers his head and shakes his head. “I don’t know.” 

The Archangel grins and returns his sword back on the scabbard attached to his belt. 

“If I can't warn her to stop, then who else can?” The angel asks. 

Michael lifts an eyebrow up, crossing his arms together as he stands right in front of him. His mouth draws into a slow smirk, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared on top of his head. 

“You wanna have some fun, Armaros?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Stand up, stand up.” Armaros quickly obeys his superior’s command. The Archangel places a hand on his right shoulder, preparing to speak. 

“I have an idea. We call Jeon Jungkook up and–” 

“No! Absolutely not! I will not allow Y/n to come face to face with the son of Lucifer!” Armaros bellows, instinctively pushes Michael's hand away from him. 

“Armaros! It's just an idea!” Michael chuckles, spreading his arms to the side as he shakes his head. “And besides, I have to ask permission from our Highness anyway.” 

“And what will he do? Taunt her? Provoke Y/n to be more sinful?” Y/n's guardian angel asks, referring to Jungkook. “We both know how manipulative and cunning he can be!”

“No, no. We'll make a deal with him, of course! No devil will do anything without receiving something in return.” 

“This idea of yours, not to be rude, but is really out of this world.”

Archangel Michael snorts from the out of the blue pun. 

“Do not be afraid. If our Lord agrees to our plan, I'll be watching. I always will. Give me your trust, Armaros.”

Armaros sighs deeply, yet smiles up at him right after. “Okay, I trust you.” 

“May, stop it,” you mutter angrily, pulling your arm away from her hold. May tries to block your way from going outside the house but you abruptly push her to the side. 

“Y/n! Your mom told you that–” 

“Told me what?! That I’m being independent? Unruly? That I should just stay home? I don’t give a fuck anymore, May. I’d rather hang out with friends than stay here and do nothing!” You bark at her. She was smaller than you and you were definitely giving off that intimidating vibes that you wanted to show. She isn’t the one wearing the pants in this house. You are. 

“Y/n, I will not tolerate this behavior!” May snaps, eyes glaring at you with her hands balled up into fists on her sides. 

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sour chuckle, “You sound like my mom.” 

May sighs deeply, the tiredness in her voice evident, “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Y/n. Just listen to me.” 

“I’m an adult. I can keep myself safe. Now, let me go and don’t wait for me.” 

“Y/n!” 

“Bye May! Have a nice sleep!” 

“Y/n! Where the fuck are you?!” Emilia, one of the new friends you've met no longer than three days ago shouts through the phone as loud, blazing music muffled her voice. “Sophia and I are waiting for you! Get your ass over here!”

“I'm almost there, save me a drink already!” you giggle, looking out from the taxi’s window. 

Sophia snatches the phone out of Emilia’s hand to speak to you, “Y/n, you still remember the bet we made, right?” 

“Of course! It's not a huge deal, c'mon now.” You roll your eyes, faking a laugh. 

“We'll see!” Emilia giggles. 

The driver drops you in front of the nightclub and you throw him a couple of dollars. Stepping out of the car, your high heels clicking on the cement. Upon entering the place, you were immediately greeted with your friends. They were both wearing a tight dress – glittery red and silver – whilst you wore a black one that reached down to your middle thigh. You bought the dress only a day ago, special thanks to your Amazon Prime account . 

“Hey! Here, drink this,” Sophia hands you a single malt whiskey and you swiftly drown it down your throat without any problem. You reminisce back to your first day where you can’t even take a sip of beer without gagging. Now look where you are. 

“Ahh fuck, that tastes good,” you mumble through gritted teeth. 

“Why are you late tonight, Y/n?” Emilia asks as she leads you to the bar to order more alcohol. Her high pitched voice mixing with the loud music,”You know it's always 9 PM. Sharp.” 

You breathe out heavily as you watch Sophia pour three shots of straight vodka into a shot glass. She distributes the beverage to the two of you. 

“Well, uh–” 

“What?” Emilia snaps.

“I couldn't find a goddamn cab, that's why!” you hide your falseness with laughter, hoping they won't sense your lie. 

“Alright anyway, let’s go get wasted and you, Y/n – will be our first player.” Emilia smirks as she crosses her arms together. She analyzes your body, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t like it, and you felt worried. 

Your eyebrows furrow, confused and slightly offended, “What, why me?” You take a sip of your newly-ordered beer, trying to get comfortable on the plush-covered stool. 

“Because,” Sophia answers for her, “we need to know your… capacities.” 

You snort, “Capacities of what? My capacity of having to get into a m-man’s bed? Pffft… easy!” 

Sophia’s forehead furrows, glancing at Emilia with a knowing look before focusing her attention back to you. “Sure. Anyway, let’s have fun first and then…” she leans closer to you, her face inches away from yours. You feel your face redden in embarrassment, “And then you can choose your man.” 

It wasn’t that bad. It isn’t bad dancing around the dance floor, beer in hand, as you danced all your worries away. Emilia and Sophia were out there – somewhere, but you didn’t care about them at this moment. You let your body go with the beat of the loud EDM music, holding your hands up in the air as you whipped your head left to right. You had a huge smile on your face, the alcohol kicking in like it was meant for your body to consume. 

Sweaty bodies were bumping each other from left and right, and you for sure stepped on someone’s toe with your pumps. Nevertheless, you didn’t care. You were having your fun. 

It was until the song changed from upbeat to a more sensual, heart-pumping song from the loud bass. As if there was a switch inside you, you turned into a sultry mess. 

Wasted. You were wasted like hell. 

Your eyes turn into little slits as you look around the dance floor to try and find someone to play with. Taking a huge sip of your drink, your throat burns yet you tried to ignore it. 

“Ah-hah!” you giggle, walking – or should we say, stumbling – towards a guy with black hair parted in the middle, nicely dressed in a black button up tucked in some skinny jeans. The man locks eyes with you, licking his plump lips as his eyes rake your body. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he smirks, making you blush in red as he holds your waist and tugs you closer to him. The song in the background was helping you a lot to get into that seductive, sexy mood that you planned to have. 

“Hey,” you smile up at him, “I’m Y/n.” 

“What a pretty name for a pretty lady.” He starts swaying your body to the beat, going along with you. “I’m Seokjin. Nice to meet you.” 

Seokjin tugs your body closer until he holds the back of your head with one hand, making you look deep into his dark eyes. “Y-You’re a new face,” you slur, “You don’t belong here.” 

Unexpectedly, your eyes grow big when Seokjin throws his head back as he laughs almost hysterically. “What?” you question. 

The man slightly leans down until his face draws near to yours, and you can immediately smell the alcohol in his breath. You didn’t judge though, you probably had beer-breath too. 

“Baby girl…” Seokjin suddenly speaks deeply, making your heart jump from the sudden change in his voice. There was a sultry look in his eyes that made it hard for you to keep eye contact. “Baby it’s you who doesn’t seem to belong. You don’t know who I am.” 

“Well y-you don’t know me e-either!” You try to retaliate, although it was messed up with your embarrassing stuttering.  

“You really wanna know?” he whispers, his lips right against your lips, almost touching yours. You couldn’t breathe properly, wanting to pull away but his intoxicating scent was forcing you to him. 

You nod your head, not trusting your voice. 

“I own this place, baby.” 

You almost tossed your cup right across the room from his sudden confession, totally not expecting such a young-looking man to own such a place like this. Your eyes expand, body staying still. 

’Wait! Be sexy… be sexy…’ you thought to yourself after an awkward five seconds of silence. 

You decide to chuckle, biting your bottom lip slowly as you draw yourself nearer to him. He lifts a brow up in surprise, wrapping his arms around your hips and he closes the distance between the two of you. 

“Really? Well then,” you mutter, “I want you to own me too.” 

“Oh, finally. Someone straightforward.” 

“Well I – oh!” Seokjin takes you by surprise when he quickly tugs your arm and leads you to the second floor of the club. You haven’t been in this area before, looking so luxurious and well decorated. Although what shocks you is the series of doors that passes through a long, wide hallway. 

“Seok...Seokjin,” you whisper, but he looks at you with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“C’mon baby,” he opens a door and walks you inside, locking it behind him. “Let’s have a little fun.” 

Let’s have a little fun. 

Yeah. I should. 

This is fun, right? 

Before you can even process things, Seokjin shoves your body to a wall as his hands start to wander down your sides. With flushed cheeks, you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost but he clearly doesn’t mind, grinding his hips into yours. 

“Mmm, what a cute babe I have in front of me,” he groans, leaning forward to pepper wet, gentle kisses all over your neck and down to your shoulders. 

Something feels off. 

“Y/n, right?” he asks, his forehead furrows and you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart starts to rapidly pump inside your chest, feeling as if it’ll burst at any minute. An uncomfortable feeling starts to overwhelm your system, sensing your palms getting sweaty. You can’t look at his eyes, looking anywhere but him. 

“Uh, o-okay,” you straighten your back as you try your best to look confident. 

This is the perfect opportunity to tell your friends. Having sex with someone like him will absolutely impress Emilia and Sophia. 

Seokjin chuckles, shrugging, “Alright then.” And without any warning, he throws you on the bed and he quickly hovers above your body. 

“Mmph–!” he immediately presses his lips into yours before you can even react to everything that had just happened. He caresses your cheeks with both hands, his lips moving softly with yours. You try your best to keep up with him and his pace, but you can’t. There was something stopping you from giving him your all. Seokjin grunts nevertheless, humping you. 

Seokjin’s right hand snakes down to grab the hem of your dress as he teasingly pulls the fabric up, then lets it snap back down. There was a weird feeling inside your stomach, and it did not feel good at all. 

His hand slowly starts creeping up your leg, and that’s where you couldn’t hold it back. 

“Mmm, n-no,” you mewl, pushing him away from you. Seokjin stares down at you with a frown, head tilted to the side. 

“Y/n?” 

Rapid heart rate, the back of your neck sweating, and chills all over your body occur all at the same time. You were panicking. 

“I-I…” immediately you stand up from the bed, hiking your stupid short dress down as much as you can. “S-Sorry,” furiously shaking your head from side to side, you stumble your way to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” Seokjin yells, confused yet he felt sorry at the same time. “Let’s talk about it!” 

“No,” you whisper. You can’t do this anymore. There was no energy left in your body to talk, to process what just happened, to stand in this fucking club. Home. All you were thinking about was going home. 

You twist the doorknob open, trying to catch your breath as much as you can but you feel like you were going to pass out any minute. Making your way down the stairs, you run as fast as you can towards the exit of the nightclub yet a person catches your arm. 

“Y/n!” Your eyes widen when Emilia and Sophia stop you, observing your state. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“No…” you breathe tirelessly, “c-can’t do it…” 

“You failed?” Emilia snaps as she leans her body on one hip, resting her hands there. She looks at you with disgust, “But we saw the guy that you’re with! He was hot!” 

Sophia snorts, smirking as she stares at you sourly, “Proves our point. You’re nothing, Y/n. You had such an easy job, the guy’s already all over you and you just had to throw him? Where is he, let me get with him myself.” Sophia struts away, heels clicking as she flips her long hair over her shoulder, leaving you with Emilia. 

“What can I say, Y/n,” she smiles menacingly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You can never be like us.” 

Your whole body felt heavy, heavy like you were carrying a boulder behind your back. This isn’t what you had planned at all, everything was going so well until this! Your eyes started welling up with tears, blurring your sight. You had to go. 

Without saying a word, you quickly run away to the exit, ignoring Emilia’s insensitive laugh. 

What went wrong? Why did you feel that way? Negative thoughts were clouding your mind as you cried and cried to your poor, soaked pillow. 

Maybe you are just not enough. Perhaps you’re not meant to be like this. 

It was fun the first time around, and you were actually enjoying yourself. But the days passed and you sadly weren't doing this for your own pleasure anymore, but for the validation of other people. 

You should’ve stopped Seokjin from touching you when it clearly made you uncomfortable. There was a line and he crossed it, but you erased that line so you can finally say that you’ve slept with someone. But you guessed it wasn’t that easy. 

Grabbing your phone, you ignored all of the rude messages Emilia has sent you, blocking her and Sophia’s number. You turned off your phone, throwing it somewhere on the ground without care before you switched off your lamp. There was never a time that you’ve cried yourself to sleep, but tonight was your first. 

“And what do I get in return for this deal?” Jeon Jungkook purrs with a low, dark tone, crossing his legs together as he sits on his father’s fire-blazing throne. Even though he has his own throne for himself, thrones on fire were way cooler. He scans the frightened angel from head to toe through the strands that fell in front of his eyes. 

“The A-Archangel says you will obtain a soul. A soul that is longing for hell.” Armaros stutters as he tries to keep eye contact with the devil’s hard glare. 

Jungkook chuckles, hanging his head low. “You mean to tell me…” he starts to stand up and walks towards the angel. Armaros tries his best to keep his guard up and stand as tall as possible. 

Jungkook circles around him, arms crossed while his right hand plays with his bottom lip, “That I should convince this little girl to prevent doing bad, bad things to stop her from going to hell?” He laughs hysterically. “That’s quite… an unnatural job for a devil, isn’t it? It’s completely the opposite of what i’m supposed to do. Tell Michael that his plan is utter bullshit.”

Armaros takes a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a brief second before replying. “Firstly, Y/n is not a little girl. And second, this job is easy. You have the skill to persuade humans to sin – what’s hard with doing the opposite? Besides, you’ll obtain a soul either way.” 

His words made Jungkook ponder and deliberate with himself. He stops in front of Armaros and shows him his signature imposing smile. “I can have my way with the girl, right?” He bites his lip, “Anyway I want?” 

This made Armaros’ eyes go wide, mouth opening but no words seem to come out properly, “I-I… w-well, um… yes? Yes? P-Perhaps? Just don’t do anything bad to her.” 

Jungkook scoffs, running his long tongue over his teeth as he smirks, “Define bad, Mr. Angel.” 

“You know… hurt her.” He gulps.

The devil squints his eyes, absolutely loving Armaros’ reactions. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean.” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” Armaros quickly chirps as he unfolds his large, white wings. “Remember what your main goal is, Jungkook. I’m counting on you.” 

Jungkook stops him before he flies back up. “Armaros…” he says, dragging his name long in his tongue. Armaros looks at him, eyes impatient, arms crossed together. 

“You know I’m a devil, right?” 

The angel chuckles, scoffing, “Oh, I know that alright.” He scorns, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Although the devil in front of him looks intimidating and his eyes are jet black, Armaros keeps his calm. “I’m only following orders. I didn’t agree with The Archangel in the first place.” 

“Do you know what devils do to… humans?” 

Armaros nods fully. 

“And what I might do to… that precious little girl?” Jungkook growls deeply, walking closer to him. He tilts his head down, looking at him through his lashes, “There’s a huge chance that I might not control myself when I see her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Suddenly, black smoke appears from Jungkook’s right hand, summoning something beside him. The smoke appears to subside and at once, Y/n’s appearance can be seen through the thin air. Jungkook rests his hips on one side, twirling his hand so that her image spins around. 

“This is Y/n, right?” Jungkook studies your face, watching you read a book inside your room. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful before.” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” Armaros bellows, his tone loud yet sprinkled with fear. 

“I’m just saying, Angel. You can’t stop me from trying to do devilish things to her.” Jungkook smirks, prodding his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “You might have to reconsider this deal of yours if you don’t want me to have my way with that pretty little girl,” He taunts, already warning Armaros.

“Jungkook,” Armaros’ nerves seem to heat up, slowly getting irritated although he tries to calm himself. He looks down, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “There’s no point in doing that. You think she wants to have an affair with someone like you?” 

The devil laughs loudly as he twirls his hand until your image disappears. This conversation further proves Jungkook’s argument that angels are actually dumber than they realize. 

“If you want me to help you, I will have my way with her. My job, my rules. Understand?”

Armaros feels defeated, but he can’t say anything but nod and agree to him. He can’t fight him anyway. Jungkook dismisses him, and with that, the angel ascends back up to earth. 

Jungkook can’t wait to have his fun. 

~

Prancing around, making friends, getting to know each other – Jungkook doesn’t want to do that. Instead, he’s very straightforward, saying words that he probably shouldn’t, he likes to say what he thinks no matter how bad it’ll probably hurt. 

That’s what he plans to do with you. 

If he gets his point clear, make you frightened, scare the shit out of you, then the job would be complete. 

Easy! 

You were currently on your laptop, scrolling through your pinterest tabs until you hear loud and frantic knocks on your door. “Y/n!” May shrieks, her voice quivering. “Someone’s at the door!” 

Oh no, you thought. 

Immediately hopping out of bed, you went out to see who it was with May following behind you. You peak out through the windows and suddenly, you inhale sharply from the man that you see. 

He was unfamiliar. Thankfully, it wasn’t Seokjin or Sophia nor Emilia, but rather tall, might you say handsome looking man waiting outside your doorstep. He was dressed in all black, his hair covering his eyes. 

“Do you know him?” May asks quietly. You shake your head slowly, “N-No.” 

“Y/n… I think you should just leave him.” 

“May, I can handle it. You can go now.” You say softly to her. 

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.” You spat a little harshly, blazing your eyes at her. May nods, sighing as she walks away to her room. 

Gathering the courage to open the door, you took a deep inhale and exhale, calming your nerves. 

Once you open the door, your eyes immediately fly to his dark ones. Your whole body suddenly shivers, the air around the place somewhat getting cold as if it was winter. 

You can't take your eyes off of the man. You have never met him before but it felt like you've known him for too long. There was a strange aura surrounding the two of you that you can't explain. 

“Hello.” He speaks first, giving you a sly smile. 

His voice. You've never heard such a dark and menacing timbre before. 

“Hi,” you gulp, “Who are you?” 

“May I come in?” Jungkook snaps, ignoring your question. He doesn't want to waste any time, that's for sure. 

You furrow your brows as you shake your head, “Answer my question first.” You blurt, blocking the entrance by placing your hands on either side of the doorway. 

“Hm,” Jungkook slowly shows you a deadly smirk, eyeing your body up and down. “You really wanna know?” 

What kind of a question is that? 

You quickly got annoyed, looking at him with a scorn. “Obviously!”

Feisty, Jungkook thought. 

“I'm the devil.”

There was a long pause, silence filling the air. This man is too handsome to be this dumb. You laugh hysterically, bending over as you hold your aching stomach. “A-Are you… oh my god… please tell me you're fucking joking!” you say with creased eyes. 

Jungkook already expected this reaction, and he only rolls his eyes without you noticing. 

“Mhm. You don't believe me?” he slowly pronounces his words, voice deep and sinister. 

“Nah,” you shake your head, giggling. 

“Aren't you religious?” Jungkook pushes you to the side without hesitation and enters, your eyes expanding slowly as his body suddenly comes in contact with yours. “Don't you believe in your God? You believe in angels, right?” He backs your body up and shuts the door loudly behind him. 

You felt a series of chills erupt from your system, his gaze locked on yours. You wanted to look away from his intimidating gaze, but you can't, for some strange reason. “Huh, Y/n?”

You gasp. “Wait, h-how do you know my name!?” 

Jungkook smirks at you, tilting his head to the side as he ignores your question again. 

Your body seems to move by itself, like you can't control your own limbs. The air thickens around the two of you as you feel your body submit to the man in front of you. 

Sighing, with a shaky voice you answer. “I do. I do believe in them.”

Although what shocks you is the way his eyes suddenly turn a bright shade of red. From deep black to red, his irises glow. 

“What the fuck–” you quickly back away, body shivering in fear until your back hits a wall. You rub your eyes, trying to see if your mind was only playing tricks with you. 

Jungkook grins and chuckles darkly, clicking his tongue. “Then…” he draws, walking closer to your frightened figure, “Can this convince you enough?” 

“S-Stop… stop playing games with me!” you whimper, feeling your palms get sweaty. “Your eyes are red!” 

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Jungkook snarls, forehead creasing, “Maybe because I'm the fucking devil?” 

And in a flash, Jungkook’s appearance changes from a tall, handsome boy into a dark red figure. Black, bat-like wings sprout from his back, long horns appearing from his forehead, a spear-like tail behind him. His lips and the area around his eyes were tinted in black while his fingers grew longer, sharper. 

You almost fainted then and there. 

“Oh— p-please,” your eyes turn watery as tears start to fall down your cheek, lifting your hands up to your mouth in shock, “please d-don't kill me!” Shutting your eyes to avoid the frightening image in front of you, your knees drop down to the floor with a loud thud. “I'm sorry, please f-forgive me! Don't k-kill me! Please!” 

“Oh, what a cute pretty girl you are,” the devil grins, his voice more gravelly now. He looks down at your frail self, amused. “I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to teach you a lesson.” 

You start to sob as your body shakes, “No! Please d-don't…”  

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” you quickly reply, voice cracking. “I’m sorry s-sir, don’t hurt me!” 

Jungkook, satisfied with your reaction, morphs back to his normal human look within a few seconds. “Look at me.”

Slowly, afraid to anger the devil in front of you, you obey his words. You sigh in relief when he finally looks normal again, but you can't look at him the same way. 

“Stand up.”

You do so with wobbly legs. You felt so weak with your energy quickly drained so quickly. Wiping your tear-stained cheeks, you try your best to keep your composure. 

“Anyway, I'm Jungkook,” he gives you an award-winning smile, “I'm sent here to supposedly warn you from doing bad things.” He cringes, shaking his head. “Which, honestly speaking, I think is atrocious.”

He scans your body, biting his lip right after. “A good looking girl like you should have her fun.” 

You try to regain your senses back. A devil — a real devil appeared right in front of you. You can't seem to shake the thought away while he’s there looking so handsome in his human form. 

With a shaky breath, you ask him, “J-Jungkook? I'm really sorry. I don't know what I'm doing.” 

He snorts. Brushing his black hair away from his face. “Wrong. You know what you're doing.” 

“W-What?” 

Something in the air changes when Jungkook snaps his fingers. A thick, black smoke appears, capsuling the both of you in. “What is this?!” you question, terror overtaking your face. You watch your surroundings getting blurry, blackness covering the area. 

“Oh nothing,” he gives you a lopsided grin, “just making sure that your little angels can't see us.” 

Jungkook's eyes shine and his pupils enlarge, smiling as you notice how his teeth grow sharper. There were veins popping out in his neck, grimacing at you in pure excitement.  

“We can't afford your poor, guardian angel to stop us now, can't we? I don't want him to see us…playing.” 

“Playing?!” You gasp, eyes expanding in shock.. 

“Yes, baby. Angels are so fucking dumb, aren't they? Asking a devil to do their own work? Isn't that pathetic.”

You were locked to him like a magnet as your body seems to fill with utter desire in such a quick time. 

Was he doing something to you?!

A series of pleasurable chills erupt from your body, mouth getting dry as you look up at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His hand suddenly touches your bare arm, making you silently mewl from his chilling touch. He smirks at your reaction, “How dumb of them to trust the son of Lucifer himself.”

“Y-You… you're…” your voice fades, trying to process his words. 

“Mhm. Aren't you excited to play with me?” 

Maybe he's doing tricks to your mind, controlling your body – or maybe you’re just fucked up. Either way, you want him. 

You lust for him. 

“Yes.”

Jungkook draws his lower lip between his teeth, his hands finding its way to your waist, holding you firmly until he unexpectedly pulls you to his body. He lifts a single eyebrow up, “Really?” 

Your heartbeat quickens. 

“I've… I’ve never been more sure.” Words seem to spill out of your mouth without your consent, as if it wasn’t you who’s speaking. But you don’t try to take your words back.  

Jungkook laughs and starts to lift you up without struggle, finding his way to your bedroom while the smoke follows the two of you. “Bad, bad girl you are.” He lowers you down on the mattress, sending you a seductive wink, “I'm so fucking proud.” 

He preps himself on his knees, capturing your thighs in between. His eyes run down your body, chills running down your spine from how hot he looks. His figure was so big and muscular, making you feel like he can destroy your frail self. 

“Look at this, you look so fucking delicious baby.” 

His hand suddenly flies down to your armpits, roughly handling you as he carries you up as he sits down on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, as he places you in between his legs. 

You hold back a whimper as he pushes your body closer to him. Hearing him growl deeply made your cunt throb, feeling a strange wet feeling down there. 

“Demons can't help humans,” he mutters lowly, his lips right against the shell of your ear. “They want you to sin and sin and sin until the day you fucking die.” 

His hands play with your shirt until in a quick flash, he rips the cotton material in half, your body shivering as it has been exposed to the cold air. “Ohh,” you whimper, covering your body with your arms. 

“Nu-uh,” Jungkook grins behind you, “Don't do that, baby.” He leans down and starts pressing wet and sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, running his mouth up to your neck. “Don't try to hide away from me.”

He sucks on the soft skin of your neck, his big dick throbbing in his pants from the way you were constantly squirming. You were so sensitive, and it made him so horny. He hums, marking your skin in bright red and purple bruises. 

“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moan, throwing your head back until it rests right against his shoulder. 

His hands suddenly fly to your breasts, his long and slender fingers pinching and twisting your hardened nipples. You bite your bottom lip as you can't seem to open your eyes from the feeling. It was until Jungkook suddenly digs his nails into your nipples, pinching them roughly that made you jolt right up. 

“Oh, t-that hurts,” you cry, the stinging feeling of his sharp nails pinching your buds. Jungkook watches your face contort, digging his nails even harder. He feels your body twitch, hearing your gentle whines and mewls. 

“Ohhh you don't like it baby, does it hurt too much for your sensitive, precious body?” he mocks a concerned tone. “Hm?” 

He was playing games with you, that's for sure. You nod your head up and down, trying to push his hands away. “Mhm…” 

Thankfully, he does stop but he quickly cups your breasts with both hands. He feels your rock-hard nipples pushing against his rough palms, kneading your boobs until he finally lets go. 

“Take these off,” he instructs you to pull your shorts down, and you do so. With trembling hands, you swiftly tug them off of your legs. 

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts behind you, his right hand lowering down from your stomach until it reaches the destination right against your clothed pussy. His fingers slowly trace down your slick, feeling how wet you are through your panties. 

He smirks cockily, “You're fucking drenched, baby. Are you this horny?” he rubs your clit in slow, circular motions with just the right amount of pressure with the tips of his two fingers, your legs shivering. “Want something to stuff that little hole of yours?” 

He pulls your underwear down to your thighs, and you instantly shake it off with your legs. Jungkook pushes your legs apart, forcing your knees up with your feet flat on the mattress. Your cunt flutters around air from the exposure. You whine when his left arm possessively wraps around your stomach, his biceps flexing when he holds you tightly. 

“Stay fucking still,” he growls, his warm hand cupping your bare cunt. He chuckles, prodding his tongue against his cheek as he plays with your folds. He uses two slender fingers to spread your labia apart and you can feel your glistening arousal drip from your hole down to your ass. 

Jungkook hums in satisfaction, spreading your lips wider, making you emit a moan. “Jungkook—”

“No. I want you to call me something…” he elongates the pause in his sentence to suddenly insert the tip of his middle finger in your pussy, causing you to jump. “Something else, baby.” 

“Ah-ahh, what?” your legs couldn't stop trembling as he pushes his finger deeper, your walls sucking it in deliciously. 

You can feel him smirk against the skin of your neck, he snickers, “Starts with the letter D.” 

Your eyes squint in confusion, tilting your head up to look at him. Jungkook, with his glowing red eyes, scans your face with a quirked eyebrow expectantly. 

“Devil?” 

Jungkook scoffs loudly and instantly pushes the rest of his finger in your cunt, immediately pumping in and out at a rapid pace. Your hands quickly hold onto his arm that was wrapped around you, mouth agape from the sudden thrusts. “Ohhh!” your body shakes, leaning your head against him. Electric waves of pleasure run through your body, being new to the sensation. 

He growls as he removes his finger out to slap your pussy harshly, hitting your sensitive clit. “Wrong.” 

“Oww…” you mewl, your hips bucking up from the sting. He does this again, and again, and again, making your eyes watery. He tightens his hold on you, stopping you from squirming too much. 

“Daddy.” He purrs. 

Your body instantly feel a series of shivers. 

“Call me daddy.” Jungkook bites your neck roughly while he inserts his digits back, this time using his middle and ring finger. You hiss in pleasure, eyes tempting to roll back when he brushes the sponge-like texture inside your pussy. 

“Shit, right there daddy,” you curse, rolling your hips against his hand for more. “Right there!” 

Jungkook feels his cock harden even more, precum dripping down his tip as it twitches against his clothes. The way you pronounce that certain word drove him crazy. Jungkook loves how your body easily crumbles beneath him as you allow him to have all the control. He pounds your pussy faster with his hand, putting his bicep to good use. 

You were about to cum, the feeling of a tightness inside your tummy, a ball about to burst at any second. You warn Jungkook, “Daddy, i-i think… I think I'm gonna c-cum,” you sob. 

“I know.” He says simply, fucking you harder. Suddenly, he pushes his index finger in, three digits stretching your walls out. You cry loudly, thrashing around him as high-pitched moans carelessly leave your mouth. “Shiiiiit, d-daddy!” 

“Need to stretch this little pussy out for my cock” he purrs, “cuz’ we don’t want that tiny hole of yours to split into two, right baby?” 

Your toes curl, nails digging into the skin of his arm as you fail to warn him that you're gonna cum any second now. Although he can feel the way your pussy was pulsing around his long fingers. He angled his hand until your clit was brushing against his palm, “Daddy! Ohh fuck, just l-like that!”

Until it all stops. 

All of the pleasure stops when Jungkook pulls his fingers out. 

“Fuuuuuuuck!” you yell, never been more frustrated before as he denies your orgasm. You were about to cum so hard. Your legs shake uncontrollably, scratching his arms as your body shudders. Your poor cunt pulsates rapidly from the sour loss. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess. 

Laughing dryly behind you was Jungkook, licking his fingers clean as he watches your dignity wash away right in front of his eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you scowl, pushing away his arms and turning to face him. “Fuck. You.” 

But he wasn't bothered at all, of course. He was the devil after all. He had no remorse.

Before you know it, Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat and swiftly pulls you close to his face. You gulp, terrified from the intimidating look in his eyes. 

Jungkook thinks that he can easily kill you then and there. If it were a different person, he wouldn't hesitate to snap their neck like a stick. Usually he would feel tempted to physically hurt a person in this kind of situation. But no. He likes you. He likes you too much to kill.

“Take my cock out.”

Even though you hate him for denying your orgasm so brutally like that, you nod your head. Jungkook removes his shirt as you scoot down. You were careful to unbutton his pants, heart rate going faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. By the look of the large tent evident, he was gonna be huge. Jungkook watches you with heavy eyes, running his hand through your hair softly. 

You pull the garment down and your mouth visibly waters from the sight. The outline of his cock was evident from his briefs, long and thick and was certainly rock hard. You were so afraid to even touch it as you let your hands sit right on his thighs. 

“Haven't done this before?” he asks, rubbing your cheek with one hand. You shake your head, afraid to look at his glaring eyes. 

Jungkook chortles, quickly pulling his underwear down by himself.

His cock immediately springs out and rests on his abdomen. With wide, surprised eyes, you notice his red tip leaking so much precum, dripping down his abs. You involuntarily whine and wiggle your hips in need, your wetness dripping down your thigh. 

“Take it in your mouth.” He orders, voice strict and demanding. 

“But—” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“No daddy.” You whisper, looking away and finally gathering the courage to wrap your hands around his girth. You clench your thighs together when you feel him against your palm – warm and heavy, yet the skin was soft at the same time. When you stroke his shaft up and down watching how his precum pours down to your hands, providing you lubrication as it coats his cock. 

Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles down at you, feeling so good. He bucks his hips up repeatedly, meeting your timid strokes. 

His patience runs out and slaps your hand away, gripping his cock tightly. Suddenly, he slaps his dick on your cheek, making lewd and wet sounds. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.” 

Obeying his command, you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. You taste the saltiness of his seed on your tongue, trying your best to take more of him. His thick girth was making it hard for you as your jaw immediately feels sore. 

His hand flies to grip your hair, making you whine around his cock, causing vibrations. “Look at that pretty little mouth tryna’ take this cock,” he smirks, “Go deeper baby. Gag around my cock if you don't wanna be punished.” 

Your hips swivel in need from his words, pussy soaking like a river. You slack your jaw as you sink down on his cock, trying to ignore the harsh gags when his tip hits the back of your throat. Jungkook growls loudly above you, seeing that the corners of your mouth were dripping in saliva. 

He uses both of his hands to force you deeper. Your eyes start to water when you swallow just half of his big dick, already being too much for you. The harsh and wet gagging sounds were music to Jungkook's ear, loving to see you struggle. “Mhm, fuck yes,” he grunts, “Choke on that big dick.” 

He keeps you down there, feeling sinister as his devilish instincts get the best of him. He ignores your cries and pleads, only focusing on the feeling of the sweet vibrations whenever you moaned around him. Or whenever your throat closes around his shaft when you choked, it was all too good for him. 

You immediately tapped on his thighs furiously when you can't take it anymore, but what did he do? He starts fucking your mouth with sharp thrusts of his hips. You whimper, closing your eyes tight as your nails dig into the skin of his thighs. He grabs you by your head as he uses your poor mouth for pleasure. 

Trying to breathe through your nose, you ignore the burning sensation in your mouth yet it feels too good. “Ahhhh holy fucking shit,” he grunts, feeling your throat tighten, “Look at that – fuck. Bad little girl aren't you? Mhm? You're my bad, naughty girl.” Jungkook mocks, watching the stream of tears drip down your cheeks. 

Finally, he pulled out and there were thick strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He groans loudly, his cock twitching as it lays back on his stomach. 

“Ohh, c'mere baby girl, come here.” Jungkook whispers and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds that made you hiss. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches close to yours. You try not to be intimidated by his menacing eyes, but he notices this and clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it again that made you inhale sharply. Jungkook sees your pout, your lips bruised from your numerous bites, and he chuckles. 

He tugs you until his lips are right upon your ear. “You wanna cum, baby?” 

Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice was, although you nod your head. “Please, daddy.” 

“Oh but do you deserve it? Do you even deserve a cock like mine?” 

You hate how frustrated he can make you. You punch your hands down on his chest, whining, “I-I do…” 

Jungkook quirks a brow up, immediately forcing your hands behind your back. He roughly grasps your wrists together with one hand, surely leaving a red bruise. He bites his lip, “You do?” He swiftly lands a spank on your right ass cheek, making you moan. “Then sink down on my cock.” 

With a puff of your breath, Jungkook helps you align his dick to your sopping entrance. You couldn’t breathe properly, anticipating what will happen as soon as you slowly sink yourself on his thick tip. 

“Ohhh daddy!” Your walls stretch out as you take his tip in, making you feel a harsh, stinging sensation as he rips your walls. If it wasn’t with his impressive girth, it probably wouldn’t hurt as much. Jungkook grunts, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. 

“Fuck yeah,” he watches your pussy take him further, your juices coating his shaft. He tightens his hold on your wrists, slightly bucking his hips up. Jungkook lands another hard, loud spank. 

“Daddy you're so b-big,” you moan, almost halfway down his dick but you can't take more of him anymore. Jungkook gets turned on from the sweet tone of your voice, the thought of tainting such a girl like you made him chuckle. 

Jungkook feeds himself from the idea of corrupting you, letting you know how it feels to truly rebel. Who the fuck cares about what your parents think? Humans are all going to die anyway, there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun. 

You start to bounce up and down slowly, your pussy rubbing against him, feeling the thick protruding veins upon your walls. You dig your nails onto your palm, eyes closed shut as you prop yourself up to your feet. 

“That's it, baby. Ride daddy's cock,” he insinuates, watching your face contort in pleasure. With your eyebrows knitted together, eyes shut and mouth wide open, Jungkook’s cock throbs inside of you.

“Look at that fucking face, cant take it?” he snickers. 

“I can, I can,” you pant tirelessly, legs getting sore. Your brows drew deeper as you concentrated on the feeling of his cock hitting your sensitive nerves so good, already so close to an orgasm from how big he is. 

But Jungkook wanted more. He wants it harder, rougher. He wants to shoot his hot cum so hard and deep inside your fresh womb, filling you up. He wants to wreck your body until you break. 

So he releases your hands free and instead grabs a hold of your waist firmly, keeping you still. He plants his feet on the bed and starts to thrust his hips up like crazy. 

Your jaw drops into an ‘o’ shape and you release a particular loud squeal. Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder, throwing your head back as he continues to drill your abused cunt. His balls slap against your ass, creating lewd slapping noises. 

“Dadddyyyyy!” you shriek, eyes expanding so wide from the unexpected bliss of electric currents shooting down your spine. You can't handle it, your orgasm snapping in a quick second. “I'm—!” 

Jungkook groans loudly when your pussy squirts your cum all over his dick and gushes all over his stomach. He fucks you through your mind-blowing orgasm, your eyes rolling back to your head as your legs shake from the unexpecting feeling. Your mind seems to cloud in lust as he doesn’t stop fucking you. 

“Shit,” he laughs, “look at this poor little girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass before he spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth, kneading the bruised flesh right after. “Squirting all over daddy. You love my big cock so much, huh? You horny, desperate little slut.” 

Before you can even process what he just said, he flips you over until you lay down flat on your stomach. He hovers on top of you, keeping his dick in without pulling out. You yelp as he wraps his big hand around your throat, tightly squeezing your jugular without mercy. 

“A-ahhh oh—” you choke, letting your forehead down to rest on the sheets as he continues to pound you from behind. 

He had absolutely no mercy, using you as his little fucktoy for his pleasure, abusing your pussy like it was made for his demon cock. He chokes you harder, almost making you see stars. 

Your cunt throbs once again, signalling that another orgasm is coming near. “Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck!” you moan, heavy puffs of breath coming out of your mouth every time he thrusts into you. 

Jungkook feels his nerves getting hotter and hotter, his cock aching to cum. He doesn't think of anything else but the way your walls clench so tightly around him. “Gonna break this motherfucking pussy of yours,” he growls, leaning down until his chest presses against your sweaty back. “I'm gonna fucking paint your walls with my cum, baby. You're gonna take all of it, you're gonna take all of daddy's cum in that tight cunt.”

Your legs squirm, hands closing into fists as you hit the bed over and over from how sensitive you become. Your hands claw the sheets tightly, back arching from the breathtaking pleasure. 

“Ahhhh daddy! Ohh my fucking— ahhh yes, yes yes!” your body crumbles, mouth wide open as you scream while you cum for the second time. Your pussy pulses so harshly around his dick, coating it with your juices, making it more wet for him. 

He groans, removing his hand from your throat and slaps your ass again. “Naughty little shit right here.” It was so messy, just how he likes it. His cum covered in your glistening arousal, fucking you through your high. 

He immediately flips you around again, making you face him. He smirks cockily from your flushed chest and face, noticing that you were having trouble opening your eyes. 

He leans down and rests his forearms beside your head, “Take it baby, take it.” he murmurs roughly, his balls getting heavier. “Take my fucking dick.”

Your legs never seem to stop quivering, everything around you seems blurry besides Jungkook's face. How does he still look so handsome and perfect? His black hair falls down his forehead, swaying with every hard thrust, his deep dimples peeking through when he bites his lower lip slowly while he savors the feeling of your warm, wet pussy. 

“Gonna cum in you baby,” he pants, holding your cheek in one hand. “Daddy’s gonna cum so fuckin’ hard for you.” You notice a dark, sinister forming his lips as he looks down at you. There it was again, that intimidating, almost teasing look. 

He growls roughly, hips staying still inside you as he dips down to gnaw at your shoulder. You hiss, whimpering when he sinks his teeth so harshly into your delicate skin, leaving an ugly mark. “Ah-ahh, daddy!” His cock spurts out warm strings of his seed, filling you up to the brim. 

“Mmm, mmm, fuck yeah,” he moans, “take it, Y/n.” 

When he pulls his cock out, his pupils enlarge as he sees your arousal dripping out of your cunt and onto your bed. He chuckles, stroking his cock a couple of times to milk himself furthermore, not wasting any of his sperm.

The two of you were breathless, breathing heavily. Your legs feel so sore and you can't feel them either, your ass stinging from his numerous rough spanks. 

“Clean yourself up, Y/n.” Jungkook suddenly throws you a wet towel, about to ask him where it came from, although he just stares at you blankly with a quirked brow. 

Gulping, you nod and start wiping yourself clean. 

~

He can't leave now. Not after all of this. 

There was something that attracted yourself to him. You can't seem to grasp what it is – but whenever Jungkook looks at you in the eyes, you feel like submitting. 

It was like your body doesn't belong to you anymore. He possesses your body now. 

“Crawl to me, my love.” He whispers, and you were easily drawn to his beautiful eyes. 

Still naked, you do as you're told and crawl towards the edge of the bed where he stands. He wears his pants, thankfully covering his goods. 

He sighs and softly caresses your cheek with a warm hand, making you flutter your eyes shut whilst leaning against his palm. He hums delightfully, smirking. 

“Surrender.” He purrs, eyes drooping down as he looks at you with such gentleness, almost with care. He leans down until your faces are mere inches away from each other. “Surrender to me, my love. And I’ll take you to somewhere you belong.”

Your eyes shimmer, batting your eyelashes as you gawk up at him with eagerness. “W-Where I belong?” you repeat in question.

“Yes, Y/n.” He smiles, showing you his perfect teeth. “Where no one will judge you, no one will criticize you for you. You can be whoever you want, you can do whatever you want. Isn’t that exciting, baby?”

Mouth getting dry, your nerves heat up once again, feeling nothing but anticipation. “Yes.”

Jungkook holds your face in two hands, compelling you to stare unswervingly at his red eyes. “Submit to me, Y/n, and you’ll never worry about this earth’s dreadful problems.” His voice gravelly yet dark, somehow different to his normal human speaking voice. 

You didn’t know what he really means by ‘submit’, or where he was supposed to take you. But your mind was telling you to go. Your consciousness speaks to you like someone was whispering in your ear what to do. You kneel before him, still keeping eye-contact. The air around the two of your shifts and it suddenly grows warm as your body starts to sweat.

“Where are…” your voice was breathy, “Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook starts to chuckle, brushing your hair back with his fingers. Suddenly, your heart races when he presses a tender, wet kiss on your forehead. Your eyes widen, heart beating out of your chest when he continues to kiss you down to the bridge of your nose, until it stops right upon your lips. He hovers his mouth right against yours, feeling his warm breath.

He whispers the words so ominously that goosebumps appear all over your arms and legs. “I’m gonna take you down to hell.” 

Jungkook watches your face go pale, all the blood leaving your face as you gaze at him with such big, surprised eyes. Without warning, he presses his lips against yours. You can’t keep up with him, his kiss rough and dominating. You whimper when his hand goes to wrap itself around your throat, pulling you closer. His tongue easily slips in your mouth, causing you to gasp. Jungkook smirks through the kiss as he controls the way your mouth moves. The two muscles dance together with such need and passion, hands getting sweaty. 

He bites your bottom lip, chewing on the soft flesh while he gently rolls it against his teeth. Jungkook growls, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t seem to get enough of you, wanting you all for himself. He’s addicted to you; your scent, your beautiful eyes, your body, he doesn’t want to leave this earth without you. 

He needs you down with him. 

Jungkook pulls out as he watches your flushed face, all out of breath. There was nothing else that you could do but whine about the loss of his lips. You were craving more of him. You pout, hoping that he’ll give in but Jungkook just shakes his head with a smirk. 

“Answer me, baby. Go down with me, and I’ll treat you so good.” He insinuates, “I’ll treat you like my own fucking queen. Don’t you want that?” 

You nod your head furiously, “I do want that,” you say softly. 

He clicks his tongue, “Tch, louder.” 

“I want it, please. Bring me with you.” Jungkook watches your pupils dilate, growing bigger as you speak. “Please.” 

Jungkook smiles. And within a flash, the black smoke that was encircling the two of you all this time thickens and starts to wash over the two of you. You cough uncontrollably yet Jungkook just stands there and watches. The smoke fills your lungs until you lose consciousness. 

~

Sounds of the crackling fire fills your eardrums, and your body tries to accommodate the scorching heat of your surroundings. 

Opening your eyes, you see that you’re nowhere in your room, or in the overworld. All that your eyes can see was miles and miles of dark red and black hills, huge torches of fire everywhere, scattered all over the place. There were girls and boys dressed in all black outfits, walking around the place with blank faces, eyes having stripped off of their emotions.

You look down on yourself and thankfully, you were wearing clothes. A tight red dress that hugs your body perfectly, enhancing your curves.

“Y/n.”

A soft voice calls out your name, and you whip around to see Jungkook in his demon form, smiling at you as he sits on his throne. You feel a warm, familiar feeling in your heart as if coming home and going to bed from a long trip. His blazing eyes lead you to a trance.

He beckons you to him for he lifts his right hand out to you. He eyes your body up and down, fixing his posture whilst he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. The way your hips gently sways as you make your way towards him – not losing eye contact – and how your irises burn in desire, it was all that Jungkook asks for.

Your legs move without your permission, leading you up the stone steps to his throne.

His hand was warm when you grasp it, although it was rough and almost hard unlike his human skin, you touch as if there was no difference. You weren’t afraid anymore. Jungkook signals you to sit on his lap, and you gladly obey. With legs on either side of his thigh, you straddle him.

“You’re mine, baby.” Jungkook snarls, “This is your place now.”

“I…” you speak for the first time, “I can’t see my friends and family anymore?”

He shakes his head no with a sly grin.

You exhale, a big smile painting your face. You’ve never felt so content and happy in your entire life.

“Then I love it here.”  

Jungkook makes sure that your angels can’t and won’t look for you anymore. He swears that he’ll protect you in every way possible, promising to shield you from anything that will hurt you. Jungkook looks at your beautiful red eyes, feeling your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him close. 

The last thing anyone should do is trust a devil — and that goes for your foolish angels. 

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series

A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside

The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.

Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.

You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.

A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.

As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.

This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.

The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.

You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.

Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”

You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.

You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.

Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.

A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.

You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”

You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.

Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”

“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.

You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.

Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.

Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.

It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.

When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.

She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.

He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.

Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.

And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?

As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.

His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.

He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.

He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.

The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.

Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.

A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.

Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.

His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.

Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.

The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.

Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.

The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.

Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.

“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.

You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.

When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.

“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”

His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.

The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.

“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.

“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”  

“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”

“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”

No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.

You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”

The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?

He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.

Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.

Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”

Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.

Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”

You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.

With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.  

This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.

Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.

Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”

“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.

“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.

The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.

You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Dealing With People Who Don't Care (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Dealing With People Who Don't Care

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language and calls to violence? Bullying, slight yandere behavior]

[AN: Requested from ѕρσσку яανισlι on Quotev! Idk if I'm ready to tell y'all that this was basically my first quarter of college.]

College wasn’t supposed to be like this, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. When you graduated from high school, you were told that petty drama and catty people were going to fade away because that was high school and this is college. Something new, something for young adults, and something you’d been looking forward to for far, far too long.

Truth be told, in high school, you didn’t really have any problems. You mostly got along with the people you did talk to and aside from a few arcs which you lovingly call ‘character development’, you generally kept your head down and to yourself which allowed you to stay off some of the cruller people’s radars. You were liked when it was necessary but ultimately stuck to yourself.

How did it all go so wrong?

When you first came in on orientation day, you’d met up with a group of girls and bonded on the train ride back to campus. There was a group chat made and you were a ready part of it. You felt nicely about your entire situation because these were nice girls, and they treated you like you held the sun and rose the moon. Is that what positive friendship was like?

For the first few weeks, everything with them was a bliss. Unfortunately, you were the only person from that group in your specific branch and major. This meant that you often spent most of your daylight hours alone or with yourself entirely. The other girls all had majors that were almost word for word the same, and that meant that they spent a lot of time together. Slowly, that had been growing closer and closer to each other and leaving you out.

It came in small doses at first, and you had chalked it up to your nature being so different from theirs. They were much more extroverted than you ever could have been. They were fire, and you were ice. But that did not mean that you were boring, or any less interesting, you were just quieter, preferring to take this just as softly. Wandering around the city with maybe one or two people, talking about the things that matter as opposed to getting wasted in a crowded apartment with fifty people who don’t even care about your wellbeing.

That’s what was different about you than them.

“Hey ladies,” you smile widely as you take your tray of food from the cafeteria to the table where all the girls sat. You notice that they’re all engrossed in conversation but quickly turn to greet you with smiles and waves.

“Hi, Reader! How has your day been?” Maria greets, her fingers gently tugging through her blonde hair. “Me and Georgina were just talking about you.”

Georgina nods and pats the seat next to her for you to sit down. “Yeah, what have you been up to?”

You take a seat next to the redhead and sip from your drink. “It was alright. With midterms coming up though… Little stressed,” you admit as the two girls sitting around you frown in response. “Lots of essays, some minor discussion posts, a group project but we’re just starting it early because it counts for like, 20 percent of our grade and is part of our final,” you say as you stab into your food.

“Oh? A group project?” Georgina asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

You nod. “It’s actually more like a partner project. I’m paired with this guy named Toby? But like, I haven’t seen him yet - he doesn’t show up to class,” you sigh.

“Maybe try emailing the professor,” Maria suggests. “But I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” she hums with a small smile, her hand reaching over and gripping yours warmly.

From there, the conversation that follows has you drifting away. By now, a third girl has joined the conversation and her name is Helena. Helena is also in the same class as you with the group project, but she isn’t as close to you as Georgina and Maria are. She greets you just as warmly but she turns the conversation in a direction you weren’t expecting.

Laughter rings out from the table.

“And that guy from last night?” Georgina giggles.

“He was insane!” Maria adds. “You have to come inside!” She mockingly says before bursting into another fit of giggles.

“And he dressed so weirdly,” Helena continues. “Ratty as all hell jacket and then followed us into the theatre? Asked to show us magic tricks-” she’s not even able to finish her words because she’s laughing much too hard.

You tilt your head slightly. “What happened last night?” You ask.

The girls pause for a moment. “Don’t worry about it,” Georgina says as she swats off your question. “You weren’t there.”

“This was last night?” You ask again.

They nod.

“Yeah, wasn’t anything special,” Maria attempts to shrug off before those three continue with their conversation and inside jokes.

You eat in silence, every now and then smiling and offering forced laughter as you think about what you did last night. You weren’t doing anything, in fact, your roommate went out on a date with her boyfriend and left you in the dorm all along. So, you finished your work a little early and started on some other things, then watched Netflix and fell asleep before midnight. You were free the entire night.

And they didn’t even think to invite you.

From there, you started to notice all the times they forgot about you and excluded you. It carried on in the sloughed off invites, the ‘sorry we can’t meet up for dinner,’ and generally just avoiding you. They had jokes they couldn’t share with you, and you were at their side, they acted like you weren’t even there until it faded into nothing.

Reader: Are you guys doing anything tonight?

Maria is typing…

Maria: no not tonight :(

Reader: oh okay! But if any of you want to come to Target with me or something..? Maria: sorry, I’m busy!

Georgina is typing…

Helena is typing…

After that, they’d left you on read, not even bothering to answer you. Later that night on snapchat, you saw the three of them wandering the city without you, laughing and having a good time.

Instead of talking to them right away, you focused on your classes and your work. And that meant finally tagging down toby.

You’d managed to finally get him in your sight after emailing your professor who struck some type of fear into him. You were able to meet him face to face at a little cafe somewhere off campus.

“Over h-here,” he calls out from near the window of the cafe, waving you towards the back.

You flash him a quick smile and let it fall before finally taking a seat across from him. You’re slightly surprised to see that there’s a cup of hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin is there waiting for you. “Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as you get comfortable.

“It’s n-nothing,” he says with a small smile. “I-I’m sorry for k-keeping you w-w-waiting all t-this time,” he continues in an apologetic tone. “T-Things with my f-family aren’t e-easy right n-now.”

Not wanting to push him, you nod and smile reassuringly. “It’s okay,” you relent. “So, this project..?”

“It’ll b-be a breeze,” he replies. “D-Don’t worry about i-it, yeah?” He picks up his own cup of hot chocolate to fight off the child of mid autumn and nods to you, his dark eyes scanning over your form. “I w-wanna know j-just who I’m w-working with.” He smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up like a know-it-all cat.

You look into your cup of hot chocolate and shrug. “Nothing too interesting,” you attempt to slide off.

Toby rolls his eyes. “Calling b-bull,” he snorts. “You l-look stressed. W-What’s on your m-m-mind?”

You sigh deeply and relax your body as you think back to the situation with those girls. “It’s nothing.”

Toby hums once more but does not push you. Deep down though, he knows something is wrong.

And that’s how it carries on. You and Toby meet every so often to work on your presentation and your paper together and your so called friends continually leave you in the dust. Before you know it, you’re spending more and more time with Toby than anyone else, and because of that, you don’t feel nearly as alone as you used to.

From Toby’s perspective, he would never tell you what he thought when he first saw you walk through those doors of the cafe to finally meet him in person.

When he first got that email in regards to him not showing up and worrying you, he’d rolled his eyes and pretended it didn’t matter. It was whatever, who cares? Apparently you. With a slight gripe in the back of his head, he looked you up on social media with the help of a friend named Ben and found all that he needed to know just by looking at your profile. He was almost ashamed to admit how enraptured with you he had become. That’s why he was so adamant you met him at a cafe, where he could spend time with just you.

When he saw you walking through the doors, his eyes scanned over every inch of you. You had a slight bounce in your walk despite it being so chilly.

He wondered if you wanted to be warmed up.

You looked so soft in his eyes, so sweet and so alluring. Just your looks alone was all he needed as water for a growing obsession.

Toby is addictive by nature. Seeing you was what allowed that addiction to take off. When he heard your voice? He felt like he was high.

He knew something was wrong with you when you sighed like that. It was a loaded sigh. Of course, after the two of you parted ways for the night and on good terms, he immediately dug into the lives of your so-called ‘friends.’ Let’s just say that damn near instantly, he did not like them.

Maria, a nursing major. He considered her an air head that wouldn’t get anywhere with substance, and saw that she was much more of a party girl than anything else.

Georgina, another nursing major. Also considered her a lost cause.

Helena, a medical assistant major. Toby considered her the worst one, but it didn’t come at first. He found that girl was vile in every sense. The things he’s overhead her saying about other people? Terrible. The things he’s overhead her saying about you? Absolutely unacceptable.

He noticed her whispers that cut like thorns wrapping around you from the shadows as he sat in class near her, but never next to her. He listened to the filth that poured from her mouth and was able to pick up the conversations from her phone like it was nothing.

And all of that? It lit a fire in him, a fire that would eventually burn her down and scorch her until she was nothing but ashes.

You’re about to head to class and present your final project with Toby. You look like a mess, and it’s not just from the lack of sleep because of your other class’s finals, but because you are absolutely emotionally drained and have nothing left to give. You’d finally formally broken up from those girls, but it did not come without tears.

Reader: hey guys, it’s been a little while, but I just wanted to get some things off of my chest before I call it. First and foremost, I want to thank you for the time we did spend together, but I don’t feel safe or happy anymore. These past few weeks have been nothing but straight ice and being left out and I’m just… I’m tired, for a lack of better words. I know that you don’t really want me around anymore, so I thought I’d just nip this one in the bud before it got out of hand or anything like that. I just - whatever, I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to offend you.

Georgina is typing…

Georgina: Honestly don’t take this the wrong way but you legitimately brought this all onto yourself.

Georgina: you don’t really talk to us the way that we talk to each other

Reader: but you literally never gave me a chance???

Maria: shes right tho,,,,, like, you just always kept to yourself. You didnt really give us anything to go off of

Georgina: right??? And it’s not like she’d actually do any of the things we wanted to do either

Reader: I’m sorry but like, I offered for you guys to come do some things with me and I even asked for you to tell me when you guys were making plans - I would have gone out

Helena: does it even matter now though? You brought literally all of this onto yourself there’s no use for you to just beg us for you to come back lol. Just stop while you’re ahead

Helena: you were never really there to begin with tbh you just kinda existed

Maria: exactly that! Like im glad we’re getting stuff off our chest because omg did you get on my nerves. Always quiet and just watching??? Never saying anything??

Georgina: RIGHT It was like a literal ghost in the room LMFAO

Reader: are you fucking serious right now?

Reader: you’re going to act like this?

Maria: you brought it on yourself

Helena: it was bound to happen

Reader: I cannot believe you guys are acting like such assholes right now

Maria: you did it first though?????

Helena: ^^^^

Georgina: ^^^^

From there, the conversation had delved into them throwing all of their problems onto you. It honestly felt like projecting, but you had a class to go to and project to present and no time to cry.

You wiped your tears, got ready for the day and headed out to your building from out of your dorm. Soon, you would be on break and away from this place that’s driving you up a wall.

You walked across campus and plastered a faint smile on your face as you continued to move through the nippy air. You enjoyed seeing the leaves as they danced on the flowing air and eventually kissed the sidewalk. You could smell pumpkin spice and the remnants of November. What a beautiful season.

Waiting for you outside of Wendell’s Hall was Toby, hands in his pockets as he leaned up against the wall just beside the door.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask with a small smile.

“Maybe,” he hums with a small smirk. “C-C’mon, it’s a little c-chilly out here,” he says as he gently shuffles you inside after opening the door for you. He watches you carefully as you walk through the halls and find the elevator to get to the sixth floor.

As the two of you wait for the doors to open, Toby checks you over.

“What?” You say with a small chuckle.

“J-Just checking,” Toby hums. “A-Are you okay?” He asks as the doors open. He nods for you to go in first, and then follows in directly after. He watches your finger press the button for six.

“Why?”

“You s-seem a l-little tense,” he says as he looks over you again, his eyes narrowing in on yours. “I-Is it the p-presentation?”

You hold your hand out and make a ‘so-so’ motion. “I guess,” you reply, attempting to shove off anything that might make you cry again. Your eyes are a little dark, and your skin is still soft from the saline, raw from you rubbing those pearls of water with your sleeves repeatedly.

“You w-wanna talk a-about it l-later?” He asks softly, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder as he brings you into his side.

You look up at him and smile. “We’ll see.”

When the doors open, you and Toby quickly make it to your class and are pleased to see there’s spots open and the two of you can sit together. Toby is quick to snag the seats for the both of you and his warm expression falls when he sees Helena waltzing into the room.

Helena sits a little ways from where you and Toby sit before she wiggles her fingers at you like a nonverbal smile before actually turning her lips up in a fake saccharine smile.

You shift uncomfortably and instead focus on your presentation. You feel a little nervous, mostly because Helena is here and this is also a big chunk of your grade. You’re academically passing with flying colors, but a hiccup like this could spell something bad. You breathe out deeply when you feel Toby’s hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you.

“We g-g-got this,” he says with a small smile, squeezing you lightly. “You w-wwanna get it out of the w-w-ay?”

“No,” you reply suddenly. “I just want to see how this goes.”

Toby nods and turns his attention to the other students that continue to walk through the door. “A-Anything for y-y-you,” he says softly.

You barely hear it, but you smile all the same.

Presentations pass in a pretty boring manner. Your professor seems pleased with everyone that presents, and she offers praise and saves the criticism for emails, but so far, it seems like everyone is doing well! You’re almost fully calm by the time you raise your hand to present but when Helena and her partner begin snickering, your heart sinks to your knees.

“Alright, you two are good to go,” your professor says with a warm, reassuring smile on her face after she pulls up your project on the overhead projector. “Giving the remote to Miss Reader, whenever you two are ready.” She holds the remote out to you and then whispers ‘you’re gonna do great’ before taking her seat in the front row.

You silently thank her for her reassurance and then turn your attention to Toby, who begins the presentation.

You make sure to speak clearly and concisely as you present your project, paying close attention to detail and everything that was outlined on the rubric. You watch your professor’s expression light up brighter and brighter as you carry on with your half of the presentation. It seems that she’s really pleased with the both of you, but especially you!

Your big hiccup comes when the questions part of your presentation comes up.

See, prior to this, the questions portion had been empty and pretty dead. But of course, because Helena is here, she’s dead set on making you flop.

When she starts firing questions, you and Toby answer them to the best of your abilities. Admittedly, you are more than mentally dead at this point. With every question that Helena digs into you, you feel your brain cells dying off at an even faster rate. The lights of the projector bore into you and make you dizzy. You’re just… exhausted.

Helena finally poses a question that makes your face heat up. “So?” She taunts, her eyes looking at you innocently. “I just wanna know,” she continues, her eyes flashing.

You should be able to answer this. It’s so simple and right there in your bank of knowledge you just can’t open the vault.

“Miss Reader..?” Your professor quietly asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “Are you able to-” You shake your head, feeling numb and cold all at the same time. “I’m sorry, no,” you whisper. It was one of the first things you learned in the class and one of the most important.

Your professor nods and mouths, ‘don’t worry,’ before turning to the rest of her class. “Alright then, you two are dismissed. Give them a round of applause for their work.”

The applause surrounds you but you do not feel it, and when you move back to your seat, you can’t help but feel embarrassed. The looks that you get from those around you are of pity and ‘she hasn’t learned anything this quarter, has she?’ It makes your face burn with embarrassment and you feel so unnaturally warm because of it. A rush of emotions comes over you when you see Helena’s shifty glances and hear her insipid giggles and you hurriedly get your things together and bolt out of the classroom.

Toby shoots up when you rush out and he’s not able to catch you. Instead, he sits in for the rest of the class to give you some space and anything else the professor may say. His glare is turned on Helena. When she flashes him that same sickly sweet, mocking smile, he sees red.

Class ends shortly after that, the professor clearly uncomfortable with whatever just happened with Helena and Toby is keeping his ire hidden until what comes after he deals with you. He’s got a few choice things in mind he’d like to do to Helena, mostly spinal disfigurement and popping bones from their joints and scattering them across the country, but he knows he has to play this as slimy as she did. He’s already conjuring up ways to academically cripple her.

Toby pushes those thoughts to the side before he makes his way to your dorm. He’s nodding to the guy at the front desk and running up the stairs to find you faster than his thoughts can even gather. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He walks through the hall of your floor before going over the room numbers. He’s only been in your dorm once - the two of you tend to spend time with each other outside of the campus. Twenty four hour McDonalds, out and about in the city, public parks, the two of you just like wandering. When he sees the numbers of your dorm, he internally sighs and knocks. “H-Hey, Reader? Y-You in t-t-there?” He asks as he knocks again.

From inside, you shuffle underneath your sheets. He’s here? You don’t answer.

“I j-just want to make s-sure you’re alright,” he continues in a soft voice. “If you n-need space though, I c-c-can go-” he barely makes the motion to move when you open the door just a crack.

You look up at Toby with dark, puffy eyes. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, but he can see that you’ve been through hell and back emotionally. You look like a mess, in less graceful words.

“Oh g-gods,” he murmurs as you push open the door just a bit more. “R-Reader,” he says softly as he takes you into his arms, his shoe gently pushing the door closed as you wrap your arms around his waist, taking in the scent of graphite and sandalwood as you sob into his chest. “What h-happened, s-sweetheart?” He asks softly as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

You continue to cry into his chest and grip onto the back of his hoodie as he gently maneuvers you to the side of your bed to let your tired body rest. “S-She’s so mean!” You cry as you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, still gripping Toby like he’s the only thing grounding you.

“What h-have they d-d-done to you?” He inquires in a tone just a little louder than a whisper. Internally, he knows he’ll make all three of those demons suffer and leave the school, by any means necessary. He just wants to hear it from you to know how hard he needs to fuck up their lives. Judging by this interaction alone? It’s monumental.

You then go into a painful detailing of everything those girls have ever made you feel, at one point even bringing up the chats you have saved on your phone. Your breathing begins to even, but Toby’s vision grows redder and redder.

He listens to everything you say as you recount your pain to him and he grits his teeth. Especially those chats - those are unforgivable.

You’re exhausted by the time you finally finish telling him everything they’ve made you feel and the things they’ve done to make you feel this way. You finish it with just a few more words. “They make me feel so small,” you admit through sniffles and broken breaths. “They just - they made me feel so left out and so insignificant,” you admit, still wiping away tears.

Toby holds you tighter before one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek. “N-No! You’re n-not insignificant, you’re e-everything and m-more,” he begins to ramble. “Y-You’re s-s-so smart and p-put together and o-on top of i-it,” he continues, his thumb wiping away your residual tears.

“You’re just saying that-”

“I w-would never,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s more serious than he intended. “I m-mean everything I s-s-say and those g-girls suck. They d-don’t hold a candle to you,” he says as he cups your face.

“Toby…”

Toby hushes you by pressing a soft, almost scared he might spook you kiss to your lips as if he’s testing the waters. When you make no motion to fight him, he presses just a little more fervently before pulling away, leaving you with stars in your eyes. “I’ll handle e-e-everything, okay?” He promises softly, watching as the stars fade to exhaustion. “G-Get some r-r-rest,” he coos.

You allow him to lay you down as he moves the blankets to cover you before he gets up to turn off the lights. “You’re going to handle it?” You whisper as you allow sleep to veil over your body.

“Y-Yes, I’ll handle e-e-everything,” he promises again, flicking the lights off.

Toby fumbles through the dark for just a moment before slipping back into bed with you, allowing you to wrap around him like an octopus. He cradles you in his arms, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Sleepy t-time,” he mumbles as you cuddle into his chest.

You smile softly and feel your body go light, only anchored by Toby’s warm embrace.

[featherymalignancy]

How About a Hug, Hm? REMIX

So a few days ago I got this ask about my Elriel one-shot “How About A Hug?” because I messed up the formatting and I you basically have to to read it as a reblog. I also was really unsatisfied with the end result.

So, I did the most Feathery™️ thing every and REWROTE THE WHOLE GODDAMN THING.

Please enjoy, and know that I will go back and tag people/clean up formatting tomorrow. Right now I just need to post and 😴

——————————————————

Elain Archeron was running late.

Granted, it was only by seven minutes, which—in many social circles—was still considered well within the accepted boundaries of punctuality.

The problem was that a) being late made Elain anxious, and b) there was absolutely nothing polite about Nesta Archeron when she was made to wait, even by her own kin.

Yet another reason it had been critical that Elain arrive on time: Nesta was already likely to be somewhat hacked off when she saw what Elain was wearing tonight, and Elain had hoped to avoid any further dramatics on her elder sister’s part.

She spent half the cab ride downtown trying to convince herself that it was fine that she’d borrowed something out of Nesta’s closet (even if it had been without permission) and that she hadn’t had a choice; she simply didn’t own anything appropriate for dinner at a four-star restaurant. However, by the time the cab slithered under Trump Tower’s unsavory shadow and into Hell’s Kitchen, she’d given up pretending.

The truth was she had half a dozen cocktail dresses that would have been perfectly suitable for dinner in the West Village, even if the place they were going was one of the nicest sushi restaurants in the city. No, Elain had raided Nesta’s closet for a far more embarrassing reason: she’d been in search of a dress she hoped might finally win her Azriel’s attention.

She wasn’t proud of the absurd crush she had on the guy, but it really couldn’t be helped. He was gorgeous, and smart, and darkly funny when he wanted to be, and she’d been secretly mooning over him since they’d met through Feyre’s fiancée three years ago. God, what she wouldn’t give to have him return even a fraction of her feelings.

Apparently not her dignity, Elain thought with a glance down at her neckline.

The worst part was that Azriel seemed oblivious to her interest in him. He was always polite to her, always made a point to talk to her when he caught her hiding out on the balcony during one of Feyre and Rhys’s crazy parties or sit next to her at their big family dinners, but he’d never once given her any indication that he was in any way that he reciprocated her feelings, which should have been reason enough for Elain to pack it in and stop harassing him.

And that was to say nothing of Mor.

Mor was the friend who’d first introduced Feyre and Rhys, and from what Elain could gather, she and Azriel had a long and complicated history. It didn’t seem to matter that Mor had been dating the same girl for over a year now. When she was in the room, Az’s eyes were always on her. Not that Elain blamed him—Mor was gorgeous in a way girls like her could only dream of being. Still, there was no denying the sting of watching the guy you were interested in pine over someone else.

Given all this, Elain wasn’t really sure why she’d gone to such lengths to dress up for this dinner. Mor would surely be there wearing something incredible and couture, thereby rendering everyone else invisible to Azriel. Still, Elain was a hopeless optimist, and she’d stubbornly sold herself on the idea that if she found the perfect dress, she could finally convince Azriel that she was a woman worthy of affection, rather than Nesta’s bookish, boring little sister.

She had to admit, there was nothing bookish about her tonight. The dress was tighter on her that it was her waifish sister, and dear god it deserved a Medal of Honor for the way it managed to keep her boobs looking so perky even without a bra. She didn’t suppose Nesta would be too happy about that bit, either, so she could only hope her sister was in a good mood by the time Elain arrived.

Just then Elain’s phone buzzed, and she looked down at it and groaned. It was from Nesta.

Where the 🤬 are you?

Running late, Elain quickly typed back. Is everyone waiting?

She watched the gray ellipsis pulse at Nesta responded.

Feyre and Rhys aren’t even fucking here yet. But hurry up, Cash is already driving me insane.

Elain rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure who Nesta thought she was fooling when she and Elain shared a bedroom wall. Nesta and Cassian, Rhys’s other best friend, ended up banging almost every time they saw each other, which—since Rhys and Feyre had gotten engaged four months ago—was fairly frequently. In fact, Cash was at their apartment making Nesta scream so often that Elain had been forced to invest in earplugs and a sound machine. From Elain’s perspective, it seemed rather pointless of Nesta to pretend she wasn’t completely hot of a guy she called “Daddy” in bed.

Elain shuddered at the thought, hoping that Nesta would end up going to Cash and Az’s loft in Williamsburg tonight instead. Though, she realized glumly, they only ever seemed to go there when Azriel was out, and the only person who seemed able to keep Azriel out later than Cash was Mor. That meant Elain’s options were either to pop an Ambien and hope for the best, or stay out and watch Az make moon eyes at Mor all night. Neither one was particularly appearing.

Elain ignored Nesta’s text as the car pulled up outside the restaurant and she wiggled out, smoothing the back of her tight dress before giving her curls what she hoped was an artful tousle before slipping inside.

Elain’s heart felt into her stomach as she took in the elegant but understated interior of the famed Sushi Nakazawa. Given the prices, she’d assumed the place would be all black granite and swanky chandeliers—the kind of place cleavage like hers wouldn’t seem out of place. Instead the place was elegantly spare and distressingly well-lit. God, she was such a prize idiot.

Unfortunately, she was also out of time, because a quick survey of the interior found that her group was already gathered at the bar, Mor, Feyre, and Rhys having showed up in the interim between Nesta’s text and Elain’s arrival.

Elain’s eyes went to Mor first, who stunned in a cardinal red lace and net sheath. It clung to her frame like it had been made for her, and despite a latent jealous she couldn’t quite contain, she was relieved to find that she at least wouldn’t look overdressed.

Elain’s stomach only wended in a tighter knot when Mor’s eyes fell on her and lit up, a reminder that not only was Mor prettier, she was also an infinitely better person than Elain.

“There she is!” Mor beamed, coming forward and hugging Elain. “I love that dress, Ellie!”

Elain braced herself for Nesta’s inevitably remark, but it was actually Cash who reacted first.

He’d opened his mouth to comment seemingly before he’d actually looked at Elain, because the second he realized what exactly she was wearing, his eyes they snapped the ceiling, as if looking at her chest directly might turn him to stone.

“Whoa, El, all dressed up tonight!”

Nesta, wholly unmoved by his attempted chivalry, elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t be vulgar Cassian!” She snarled before narrowing her eyes. “And that’s mine!”

Cash smirked, seeming more at ease now that Nesta was his target.

“I knew I’d seen that bef—ow! Goddamnit woman, what was that for?”

He scowled down at the dangerous stiletto Nesta had just jammed into his toe box.

“Sorry,” she cast over her shoulder, not deigning to look at him. “Did I accidentally step on your foot?”

“I’m an adult,” Elain interjected, cheeks burning as she faced her sister down. “Stop acting like I’ve fourteen and stuffing my bra.”

“They’re just boobs, Nes,” Rhys added, arm slung over Feyre’s shoulder. “Relax.”

“Watch it,” Nesta warned him, but Feyre only laughed.

“I agree!” She said, turning to smile at Elain. “And I think they look amazing.”

“If I’d have known they were going to be such a topic of conversation,” Elain mumbled, grateful Azriel wasn’t here to witness this circus. “I would have worn something else.”

“No, I’m with Feyre,” Mor said, wicked grin forming. “Breasts that nice deserve to be shown off.”

Elain wasn’t so humble that she didn’t feel herself preening a bit at that comment, even if she was still flustered by the prolonged attention. Either way, she was grateful when Cash interrupted with a somewhat sheepish laugh.

“Teenage me would be furious if he heard me say this, but can we please stop talking about boobs?”

“Elain’s boobs or just any boobs?” Feyre said with a smirk.

However, before Elain could admonish her for it, Feyre was crushing her into a hug.

“Hey you,” she said, wrapping her arms and Elain’s neck and whispering in her ear, “let me and Rhys know if you wanna stay at our place tonight; Cash already grabbed Nesta’s ass twice when she thought we weren’t looking.”

Feyre indicated the mirror behind the bar with her eyes as they pulled away, and sure enough, Elain watched Cash’s hand as it drew lazy, dangerous circles just above the swell of Nesta’s well-formed behind.

Elain groaned, hugging Rhys now as well. God , her sister was such a hypocrite sometimes.

Ignoring a lingering twinge of annoyance, Elain forced herself to glance in false realization before casually asking, “So where’s the Birthday Boy?”

“He was on his phone out back,” Rhys said, before raising a hand in greeting to someone over Elain’s shoulder. “There he is.”

Elain tried not to look to eager as she turned and drank in all six feet four inches of perfection that was Azriel Macar. He was dressed all in black, from his prada boots to the soft, expensive t-shirt fitted enough to show off his toned physique. Elain honestly had to fight not to swoon as he ran an effortless hand through his glossy sable hair, the longer pomaded pieces on top stand up for a second before falling into an artful tousle.

“Hey Ellie,” he said, gaze on her and gone so quickly that he never even had time to notice her much-discussed cleavage. Instead, his eyes flicked to Mor and held for a long, meaningful beat before he turned back to Elain and added politely, “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” she chirped, trying to ignore the fact that he was coming closer, and that in another second she’d be able to smell that divine Givenchy cologne he always wore. “Of course!“

She bent her head, pretending to be fixing the clasp on her bracelet as his scent hit her and she had to bite back a groan. Sweet Jesus, he smelled good. When she looked up again, everyone else was shuffling to their table and Azriel was lingering, a soft smile threatening to the reveal the absolutely devastating dimples in both his cheeks.

“Do I get a hug?” He asked. “It is my birthday after all.”

He extended his arms, and she gave a nervous laugh, accepting the gesture by stringing her arms around his neck.

“Of course,” she repeated stupidly, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he embraced her. “Happy Birthday.”

At this he squeezed her a little tighter and she fought off genuine giddiness.

It was a friendly gesture, she warned herself, and it ended the minute Mor called, “Az, come sit by me.”

Elain cleared her throat as he pulled away, turning to where Mor was still beckoning. However, before Elain could get too flustered, he turned back to her.

“Shall we?” he said, indicating Elain go ahead of him. To her delight, they reached the table to find that the only two seats left were next to each other. She tried not to give her eagerness too much leash as he pulled out her chair for her before sinking into the one between she and Mor. Mor leaned over to give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he flushed.

“Where’s Emmy tonight?” Feyre asked as Mor tried to wipe the lipstick from Az’s copper skin and he battered her away, like child trying to fend off an over-bearing mother.

“She’s sick, poor little thing,” Mor said, giving a tiny pout. “She hasn’t been able to get out of bed in days.”

Elain didn’t bother to her disappointment. Emerie had been one of Nesta’s best since they’d met in college almost ten years ago, and she not only was she like family to the Archerons, she also happened to be the only person in the group who knew about Elain’s crush. Elain had sworn her to secrecy at the time, and though it would have been reasonable to assume that once Emmy knew, Mor would know, Elain appreciated that she could trust Emerie to keep her secret.

Elain felt Emerie’s absence keenly and Nesta and Cash began bantering back and forth at lightning speed. Emerie was a master at slowing the tempo of Nesta’s quick wit, making it easier for Elain in particular to feel she could keep up.

More selfishly, Elain also missed Emerie’s ability to keep Mor distracted. When Emmy was around, she was all Mor could focus on. However, in her absence Mor’s attention had reverted almost completely to Az, a fact he didn’t seemed to mind a single bit, if his growing smiles were any indication.

Still, he seemed to be going out of his way to make sure Elain didn’t get lost in the chaos of conversation surging around them, even if he never looked at her for more than a moment or two before his eyes flicked back to Mor, studying her dark brown eyes and crimson lips.

After they placed their drink orders and the waiter came over to begin explaining the omakase menu, Elain wondered if she had time to dodge under the table to throw on some lipstick of her own. Assuring herself everyone was suitably distracted she bent down, hastily uncapping the tube before looking up just in time to see Nesta brush a very deliberate hand between Cassian’s splayed quads.

Elain jerked back, banging her head on the table.

“Fuck!” she swore quietly, straightening and rubbing her head.

Nesta shot her an alarmed look across the table and Elain flushed.

“All you alright?” Azriel asked, and she tried not to bleat in excited panic as his fingers brushed the back of her head. “What happened?”

“I—dropped something,” she fumbled, cursing her sister for being such a salacious wench.

Wasn’t it enough that she and Cash were already going to keep her up all night? Did she really have to make Elain look silly in front of Azriel, too?

“Does it hurt?” Azriel said, still studying her head before letting his eyes go to the server. “Do you need ice?”

“No, no,” Elain said hurriedly, trying to regain her composure. “I’m fine.”

“Did you at least find whatever you were looking for?” Mor asked, and Elain’s flush deepened.

“And then some,” she grumbled to herself, and Cassian gave a quiet but unmistakable laugh before letting out a surprised exhale. Elain had a fairly good idea what Nesta was squeezing to shut him up.

“Should we order, then?” Mor asked, hand falling onto Azriel’s arm. “Any particular requests, Birthday Boy?”

“He’s thirty now,” Rhys pointed out. “I think that makes him a Birthday Man .”

“Birthday Old Man,” Cassian amended. “Don’t worry champ, I’ve already put some viagra in your bathroom.”

“You’re not supposed to share your prescriptions, Cash,” Azriel said with mirth, eyes sparkling even as his face remained neutral. “And besides, I would feel dead back if you needed one tonight and couldn’t find them.”

“Checkmate,” Mor purred as Cash flipped her off.

Beside Azriel, Elain was fighting not to blush again. Cash’s comment, however sophomoric and lewd, had her imagining what Azriel was like in bed. She wondered for a moment if Mor knew before dismissing the thought and the twinge it induced.

“Let’s put this poor souls out of his misery and order,” Feyre said, smiling at the server where he still waited patiently. “Maybe if Cash’s mouth is full, he’ll stop talking.”

Cassian grinned, and, after placing their requests for the chef’s tasting menu, they all settled into an easy conversation. Cash and Rhys regaled them with stories of Azriel at various ages, from the gawky child he’d been when they’d first met him to the shy teenager who’d been terrified of girls.

“Let him be,” Mor said, touching her friend’s shoulder. “He was sweet in high school!”

Rhys laughed.

“It took him a year to pluck up the courage to say three words to you,” he pointed out.

“And they were ‘here’s a pen’ in response to you asking him the time. Nice work, Shakespeare,” Cash said, attempting to muss Azriel’s perfectly styled hair before being batted away.

“I can’t imagine Az ever being awkward,” Elain blurted. “I bet girls thought he was mysterious and cool.“

“See?” Azriel said, gesturing to Elain. “This is why I sat over here.”

“Oh please ,” Rhys said, bubbling his lips. “Ellie’s just being polite. If you two had known each other in high school, we all know how to would’ve gone: you’d have had an obscene crush on her and your dreams of true love would have been dashed after she politely signed your yearbook ‘have a good summer, Adrian’, leaving you heartbroken and alone.”

Azriel gave Elain a soft smile, and her heart burst open as thousands of butterflies flitted out of it.

“I hate to say it, but he’s probably right,” he told her. “I assume high school Elain was very popular.”

“She was,” Feyre said. “Eight different guys asked her to prom.”

“I’m not surprised,” Az said, and Elain made a great show out of drinking out of her masu to avoid having to answer.

She was relieved when the food began arriving to distract everyone, if only to save her the temptation of telling Azriel that there was no universe in which she wouldn’t have been into him, high schoolers or no.

Instead discussion turned to the Feyre and Rhys’s wedding as they ate, and as final plates were being cleared, Cash took the opportunity to once again mocked Azriel for the fact the latter had lost the rock-paper-scissors competition to be Rhys’s best man.

“I lost on purpose,” he told Elain quietly, taking a sip of the Yamasaki Single Malt he’d ordered after dinner.

“Why?” she laughed, following his gaze across the table to where Cash and Nesta were now bickering about whether Rhys’s stag night in Vegas would be better than Feyre’s hen do in Napa.

“Because Rhys told me that you’d convinced Feyre to pick Nesta as her maid of honor, and no offense, but your sister terrifies me. I’d much rather be with you.”

She laughed, biting her lip. It felt so terribly like they were flirting, but she couldn’t decide if it was her imagination or not.

“She terrifies everyone,” Elain said. “And I have a feeling this won’t our last trip down the aisle together.”

Azriel only quirked a bemused brow at this, which had Elain flushing scarlet.

“Not like that! She laughed, fumbling to pretend the idea of them being together was absurd rather than her heart’s desire. "I meant for Cash and Nesta’s wedding. Don’t tell me those two aren’t going to end up together.”

“We’ll have to work out a custody agreement when they finally get over themselves and start dating properly,” he agreed. “I’m spending a fortune on earplugs.”

She laughed, and he seemed warmed by the gesture, because he flashed a modest—albeit dimpled—smile being turning back to the larger conversation.

After dinner they’d gone a cocktail bar, then an Irish pub, and finally—much to Azriel’s chagrin—a karaoke bar. Rhys and Cash spend the majority of the evening trying to wrestle Azriel on stage while Mor and Feyre sang duets to Beyoncé and Spice Girls.

Elain was content enough to sit back and simply observe the scene as it unfolded around her. It was hard to contain her giddy, dreadful anticipation when Mor left around one to check on Emerie and Azriel—besides bidding her farewell with a soft kiss on the cheek—didn’t move a muscle.

Less than an hour later, Cash and Nesta both disappeared about an hour after without so much as a goodbye. Elain groaned, hoping they’d be asleep by the time she got home.

She’d have to rally if she wanted to manage it; they would be at it for hours yet.

By three the place was clearing out, and besides them, only a few tables of marathon drinkers and a girl on stage performing a beautiful rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” remained.

“We’re gonna go,” Rhys said, arm slung around a rather drunk, giggling Feyre. “Ellie, do you want to come with us?”

Elain glanced at Azriel, who’s glass still had two fingers of whiskey in it. If she wanted a chance to be alone with him, this was it.

“I think I’ve got one more in me,” she said, smiling.

“If you mean drink, I’m in,” Azriel said.

“Oh c’mon, brother,” Rhys goaded. “Just one song. I wouldn’t even film it….much.”

“Do Beyoncé!” Feyre chimed in, and Azriel shook his head.

“You know I’d play in traffic before I ever sang karaoke,” Azriel said mildly, making Feyre laugh. "Thanks for coming.”

He rose, embracing Rhys and pressing a kiss on Feyre’s head.

“C’mon, my little drunkard,” Rhys told her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let’s have sex when we get home,” Feyre said, her attempted whisper fully audible. Rhys pretended smack his forehead with his palm and a mimed, “ Oh brother ”, to Azriel and Elain before coax a still-singing Feyre outside.

Azriel chuckled before draining the last of his drink and rising. Elain pretended not to notice the way his well-tailored jeans fit his lean legs and…other parts of his anatomy as he adjusted his belt buckle and glanced down at her.

“Bud Light?” he asked, and she nodded, bobbing to her feet as well.

If she wanted a way to get closer to him that was more elegant than her increasing urge to crawl across the table and into his lap, this was certainly it.

“I’ll come with you.”

He flashed her a modest smile before indicating she lead the way. He ordered and waved off Elain’s attempt to pay before leaning on the bar to avoid towering over her. The gesture brought them nearly eye-to-eye, and Elain had to actively fight not to let hers roll back in pleasure at the bergamot and amyris wood notes in his sinful cologne. Up close Elain could see how much green he had in his hazel irises, and she wanted to tip into them and swim until she drowned.

“Did you have fun?” she said, desperate to get the conversation flowing again, and he smiled, making her stomach flop.

“I did, yeah,” he said, glancing around the bar in bemusement, as if still wondering how he’d ended up there. “Thank you for coming.”

Elain shrugged, grinning.

“You say that like you didn’t think I’d show,” she said, resting a cheek in her hand. She knew by now her expression was not her less than a swoon, though she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Hadn’t been this been her plan all along? Finally get Az’s attention long enough to tell him how she felt? Now was the best chance she’d probably ever get.

“No, I figured would,” Az said, interrupting her reverie. “Or hoped you would, whatever.”

Was that—

Did that mean what she thought it did?

Normally she would have chalked it up to wishful thinking, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck, dimples appearing as he huffed what almost sound like a sheepish laugh, had hope igniting in her chest.

“What does that mean?” she pressed, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

For the first time all night, he didn’t look away. Instead, his eyes skated back and forth across her face, as if she were a riddle he only had seconds to memorize. She watched, transfixed, as he wet his plush lower lip with his tongue before biting it almost self-consciously.

“It means I’m glad you came,” he admitted. “And that you didn’t go home with your sister and Rhys.”

It wasn’t the confirmation she’d been hoping for, and the ambiguity of the statement had her conviction waning. That could just as easily have been mean platonically, and if she pushed him and ruined things between them by making it awkward—

“Of course I’d be here for your birthday,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “That’s what friends are for.”

She couldn’t help the way her voice got stuck on the word, not when her throat suddenly began to clog with tears.

She had to get out of here, right now. Before she started crying and made things worse. She made to retract her hand but Azriel grabbed it, grip gentle but intent.

“El, don’t go,” he said, and she was surprised at the frank discontent in his normally-impassive expression.

She waited for him to explain himself before instead he let out another strained laugh, grip on her wrist easing. However, he didn’t let go entirely, choosing to intertwine their fingers instead.

Holding hands.

She and Az were holding hands.

And he—

She glanced back up to find he was studying her again, his face a mixture of terror and delight. When she gave his hand a soft squeeze, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Jesus, I am bad at this,” he said, reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, but she thought his gaze flicked down to her lips as he continued to study her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Bad at what?” She asked, though she’d begun to suspect she knew exactly what, even if it seemed too good to be true.

“At least my timeline is improving,” he breathed instead. “And I haven’t offered you a pen you didn’t ask for yet.”

Hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation, she let her finger trail down to trace the circular buckle of his Gucci before glancing back up at him and purring, “Do you have a pen?”

He smirked before raising his right wrist and glancing at his watch face over her shoulder.

“It’s….3:17 am,” he said, smile spreading as she gave a low sound of approval and flicked her gaze to his lips.

“Smooth,” she said, and tried not to lose her mind as he let his raised hand fall to the back of her neck and bent to kiss her.

He had almost girlishly full lips, and they opened for her as they settled into the kiss. Immediately his hand tangled in her hair so he could alter her head position slightly and get a proper taste of her. She groaned into his mouth he pulled at her lower lip with his teeth. He tasted like oranges and the expensive Japanese whiskey he’d been drinking all night, and pleasure tightened in her low belly as his tongue brushed hers. Her brought his free hand up to cradle her face, and in response she pushed closer to run her hands underneath of his shirt and down the silken skin of his back.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a heated half-laugh, nose brushing her cheek as he bowed into her touch. “You’re killing me, woman.”

She only smirked, feeling more confident now that she had before. She could hardly believe this was happening, but she was too excited about it to fully care.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, and he bit his lip, as if restraining himself from kissing her again.

“Like to another bar?” he asked, dazed as he continued to stare at her lips.

“Like to my bed,” she said boldly. “Or yours, depending on where Cassian and Nesta ended up.”

He didn’t speak immediately, just studied her, and she panicked.

“I mean, only if you—I’m sorry, should I not have—?“

He only kissed her again in response, more gently this time.

“Please stop apologizing,” he said, kissing her jaw now before seeming to realize something and pulling back, brows synced.

“I—Jesus, do you seriously not know?”

She felt a bit sheepish at his incredulous tone and fought not to stiffen.

“Know what?”

He laughed softly, though their was a edge of self-deprecation in it that kept the gesture from seeming conscending.

“I really am the worst at this.”

“At what?”

“El, I’ll crazy about you. I have been crazy about you since we met.”

“You have?” she blurted, horror fading into genuine—if elated—confusion.

He laughed.

“Did you think it was coincidence that you and I are always sitting next to each other at dinner? That I always find you at Rhys’s dumb parties?”

“I—“ she began, still trying to decide if this was a dream or not. “What about Mor, though?”

“Mor?” he repeated, confused now, too. “What about her?”

“I thought you and she—“

He leaned in to brush his nose against hers, and she blushed at the innocent affection in the gesture.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I did have a thing for her in high school, but I got over it after she and Cash slept together at prom. We’re just friends, I swear.”

“But she’s always touching you, and every time I see you together you can’t stop looking at her.”

At this he laughed, his smile so genuine and open she almost didn’t recognize him.

“She’s always been touchy-feely,” he said. “She grew up in Madrid, and people are just more affectionate there, I guess. And I only watch her when you’re around because she called me out for having an absurd crush on you, and I was afraid she was going to get drunk and blow my cover by telling you.”

Elain shook her head, still not quite believing what she was hearing. Reading her expression, he bent to kiss her softly.

“What guy wouldn’t be crazy about you?” he breathed. “You’re incredible.”

This seemed to break the spell, and she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for another steamy kiss.

“Text Cash,” she said a little breathlessly when they broke away. “I don’t want an audience.”

She couldn’t felt but feeling smug when he almost dropped his phone at those words. It felt good to know that she wasn’t the only one affected by all this.

“Cash and Nesta are at the lof—“ Az began after a minute, but Elain cut him off with a kiss.

H rose, pulling her against him as his tongue brushed the roof of her mouth.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said as she kissed his neck and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, earning a low groan. “You’ve been drinking.”

She grabbed his chin so he would look at her.

“Not that much,” she said, and it was true. “And besides, I wanted this way before tonight.“

“Good,” he breathed, pressing a hand to her low back to bring her close to him. “Because so have I.”

Though they spent the majority of the ride up town and the elevator up to her apartment making out, something seemed to shift as Elain’s door clicked shut behind him, as if the gravity of what they were about to do had finally caught up to them.

Reluctantly Az peeled his lips from where they’d been glued to her neck as he took a small step back, as if to give her space.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, feeling embarrassed for how much she still wanted him even now that he seemed to have come to his senses.

“Maybe we should—” he broke off, looking somewhat guilty. “Hold off.”

She nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay again.

“Are you worried this could mess things up in the group? Because I understand—“

“No,” he said hurriedly, coming forward again, as if he could no longer stand to be away. “Not at all. I just—you’re special, El. You deserve to be taken out and spoiled.”

“Az, you just took us to a $1,800 dinner! Or did you think I didn’t see you pulling our server aside?”

Azriel opened his mouth, and she covered it with a finger.

“You don’t need to earn my affection. It’s yours already, free of charge.”

“I’ve just been—I waited so long to make my move and I’m terrified of fucking it up,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Why, are you bad at sex?”

Azriel laughed, seemed to relax at her teasing.

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he breathed again her lips, kissing her deeply again.

She gently bit his lower lip in response.

“Then I’d say you’ve gotten nothing to worry about,” she said, kissing him a third time.

She moaned softly when drove his fingers into her hair, hips canting towards her as he pressed her more fully into the door.

She could feel his body’s reaction to her pressing between her thighs, and she moaned again.

“Fuck,” he breathed onto her skin. “You are so gorgeous.”

“So are you,” she said, running her hands up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the mosaic of muscles flexing underneath. “Take this off.”

He laughed and pulled the offending garment over his head, making her groan in delight.

“God, this body ,” she breathed, running a hand down his chest and enjoying his shiver at her delicate touch.

He responded by spinning her away from him and gently dragging down the zipper of her dress until he could slip a hand inside of it.

“I knew you couldn’t have a bra on underneath this thing,” he said, voice a touch smug as he cupped both bare breasts and her breath caught in her throat..

“I’m surprised you even noticed,” she said, voice somewhat. “I wore this dress for you, and you didn’t even look at it once the entire evening.”

She laughed, the sound into a soft moan as he twisted one nipple in experimentation. When she sighed and let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Of course I noticed the dress,” he corrected. “You have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. I just knew that if I let myself look, I might not be able to stop looking.”

“You shouldn’t say that until you’ve seen them without the sorcery of underwire,” she said.

With that he spun her to face him, catching her gaze to ensure he had her permission before tugging down the top of the dress so her breasts fell free.

“Gorgeous,” he said, easing to his knees so he could replace his fingers with his mouth. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“If I known this was going to be your reaction, I would have worn a bodycon dress in front of you ages ago,” she said, threading her hands through his hair as he dragged his teeth and tongue along her nipple.

“You don’t need some tight dress to be sexy,” he said, resting his chin her her sternum so he could gaze up at her. “I’d take you in your overalls and pigtail braids any day.”

“Is this some Pippy Longstocking fetish we should all know about?”

He grinned, rising to his feet and giving one of her curls a playful tug.

“Because as devastating as you are playing dress up in your sister’s clothes, I prefer you as you.”

“You can’t say that when I’m naked,” she said with a smile, touching his cheek.

“Why not?”

“Because I may start crying and ruin the mood.”

He cocked his head to the side, tracing her lips with a finger.

“I wouldn’t mind a few tears from you in bed. But only if it’s from you sobbing in pleasure.”

His words sent blood pooling south, the intensity cause a dull throbbing.

“Why do I feel like you could do it, too?” She asked, reaching down to free his belt as he heeled out of his boots.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her hand and guiding it between his legs. “Forget this,” he said, squeezing gently so she could feel how hard he was. “I could go down on your all night and be the happiest guy on Earth.”

Emerie had said as much once, at a drunken girls’ night.

Azriel strikes me as the type of guy who loves eating girls out. It’s why gay women find him so easy to befriend; we recognize kindred spirit.

Elain vowed to never tell the others she’d been right.

“Will you let me?” He asked, gently nudging her dressing off her hips until it came free and pooled at her feet.

“Is this a trick question?” She said, voice going hoarse as he slipping a hand into her underwear.

“Some people don’t like it.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, he smiled, coaxing her legs around his waist so he could carry her.

“Thank God,” he replayed. “That would break my heart. Which way?”

She pointed him in the right direction before giving into temptation and kissing him again, looking to way she could feel like body reacting to hers as he held her close. Only when they reached her room—which was decidedly messier than she’d have liked considering Azriel Macar was now in it—did he set her down.

He wasted no time into coaxing her onto the bed, taking only a moment to admire the silky black thong she wore before dragging into down her thighs and discarding it.

“Spread your legs for me, El,” he said, brushing kisses to her knee as she slowly did as he commanded.

The light from the nearby street lamp made the room a lot less dark than Elain was used to during sex, and for a moment she though to be embarrassed or postpone. Then she glanced down to admire the contrast of Azriel’s inky black hair framed against the pale skin of her thighs, and she forgot what it even meant to be self-conscious as he finally put him mouth on her.

She swore at the first brush of his tongue, which was both deliberate and extremely delicate. She threaded a hand through his hair at his second stroke, the touch more intentional this time.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

She watched the muscles in his beautiful back shift at this, as if hearing her moan his name had untethered something in him. When he put his mouth back on her, it was clear he was no longer attempted to tease her. Instead he felt right to where she needed him most, refusing to relent until she tipped over the edge.

Even then he didn’t seem satisfied, it and it was only after he made her come a second time did he pull back, licking his lips before bending to kiss her.

“Take your pants off,” she demanded. "Right now.”

She felt him grinning against her neck as he peeled off of her, slowly working the buttons of his pants before sliding them down his trim hips. He wore black boxer briefs underneath, and he honestly looked like an Armani model. She bit her lip, eying the sizable swell of him through the cotton.

“Those too,” she breathed, greedily drinking in his well-defined adonis belt and the bare trace of hair above the band.

He did as she commanded, and she nearly melted. Naked he was a God, all rippling muscles and smooth unblemished skin, save for the chest piece tattoo that extended onto his shoulders and halfway down his arms. She let her eyes sink lower. Even half-hard he was big, and her belly clenched.

Wasting no time, she urged him to take her place on the bed before kneeling at his feet and putting her mouth on it.

“Shit,” he hissed, driving a hand into his hand then down his face. “Ellie, you’re kiling me.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, and he growled in approval, seeming to decide something before breaking her grip on him and hauling her to her feet. He kissed her again, and she could feel his cock as it practically pulsed between them.

She still wasn’t sure she could believe it was for her, that somehow he wanted her as much as she did him, and had for almost as long.

“Condoms,” he breathed against her mouth. “I need to be inside of you.”

She froze.

“I don’t have any,” she said, dismayed.

How could she be so stupid? Why didn’t they stop on the way home? The closest bodega was six blocks, and she knew everyone who worked there. The last thing she needed was all of them knowing—

Azriel pressed a swift kiss to her lips before tangling from her.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab a condom.”

“Naked?

He flashed her a slight grimace, “Let’s agree you won’t ask where I get it from.”

“Oh Moses,” Elain said, face flushing scarlet as she listened to Nesta’s door creaking open.

Azriel was back in less than a minute, tossing an entire box onto the nightstand as he pulled open one of the foils with his teeth, using his free hand to push his damp hair, long enough to brush his cheekbones now that it wasn’t styled, out of his eyes.

“You found those distressingly fast,” Elain said, unsure if she was amused or mortified at the situation.

“Cash is predictable with his hiding spots,” Az said, eyes hooded as he stroked himself several times before rolling the condom onto his length.

“And why did you take the whole box?”

Azriel laughed softly.

“Because I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”

Without another word Az sank to his knees again, one hand lazily stroking himself to maintain his erection as he went down on her again.

This time it only last three seconds or so before he pulled back, resting one knee beside her hip to steady himself before pulling her onto his shaft in a single wet stroke. Using her left bent leg as leverage, he adjusted his angle, smirking at her low, guttural moan of pleasure.

“Good to know your g-spot is as sensitive as the rest of you,” he breathed, and she laughed and tugged him into an ambitious rhythm.

Soon the only sound was their shared breathing, and the sliding on their bodies against one another. She came first, and he followed even before the dizzying waves of pleasure ceased. He pumped lazily in and out of her for another half dozen stroke before gently extracting from her and peeling off the condom.

She curled against him, cheek pressed to chest as her hands continued to explore. Her fingers caressed his swelling pectorals and each of his abdominal muscles before lazily venturing back between his legs. He gave a hiss of pleasure as she began to work his silken shaft in earnest, and in minutes he was fully ready again.

He groaned when she snatched one of the condoms and rolled it onto him before swinging a leg over and sinking astride him.

Her third orgasm hit her only a short time later, and she sighed when he bucked up into her before going languid under her ministrations.

She leaned down to kiss him as he ran a soothing hand down her back.

“Jesus,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers and swirling his hips, still inside her despite his orgasm. “That was incredible.”

She purred her contentment, feeling something even more alluring than desire swell in her chest as he discarded the second condom and tugged her into his arms, tangling their legs. He still smelled like cologne, but it had mixed with her perfume, and sweat, and the scent was intoxicating. She wanted to bath in it—in him—until she died from bliss. She listened to his breathing even out, and as she was drifting off to bed, he felt his breath ruffle her hair.

“Do you like pancakes?” he murmured. “I want to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Really?” she said, looking at him over a shoulder and melting at the warmth in his smile, less guarded now than it had been even hours before.

“I want to make breakfast for you every morning,” he breathed. “I have since I met you.”

She smiled, nestling closer to him.

“I’d love that, but I should probably be the one making you breakfast. It is your birthday, after all. You have to let me give you something other than a bj and a few orgasms for your birthday, even if it is your dirty 30.”

Az choked on a laugh.

“Say you‘ll dinner with me, then. No family or nosy friends around, just us.”

“I think the word you’re looking for it ‘date’,” she said, laughing as his cheeks flushed before realizing something. “Or is the idea just too formal for the situation? I know we did things a bit backwards...”

“We did,” he agreed, stroking her cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I want to spoil you any less. So yes a date, if you’ll still have me.”

“I will,” she said, meeting his hazel eyes before gently kissing him. “With pleasure.”

He smiled against her mouth.

“Then that’s the only birthday gift I want or need from you.”

She smiled, feeling happy to the point of bursting when he kissed her ear and closed his eyes again.

"Happy Birthday, Az.”

His hum of contentment vibrated through her back.

“The happiest,” he breathed.