#its one of the like. 2 songs i know that use that white noise-y tone

[uniquezombiedestiny]

Cloudy skies, muddy waters, and the paint of black.

WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE? NO, I CAN'T GO BACK . . .

[barbika1508]

Perks of an open Pool (Octopus/SeaWitch!Yoongi x Human!Reader/ Smut)

Word Count: 9,4k

Genre: Fluff, Romance, PWP

Pairing: Octopus/SeaWitch!Yoongi x Human!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Breeding Kink, Mating, Dom! Yoongi, Brief Dom!Y/N otherwise Sub!Y/N, Tentacle sex

Summary: It’s just your ordinary mated type of a couple, living together, loving each other and getting frisky as anyone does, with the exception of these two as a limb or two more might be involved.

Authors Note: It’s basically tentacle porn, simple as that! So, enjoy it and if you don’t there’s plenty other things to read! Anyways hope you’re having a good day :3

 Why am I getting agitated? I was fine not even an hour ago, completely calm and collected. My fingers remain drumming mindlessly along the side of my laptop, as I keep staring at the beat and the waves it has created, listening to the same part of the song over, and over again. The repetition is irking me, the missing part just growing and adding to my nerves. And going down and through the 20 versions I’ve made of the beat, it’s not sitting right frustrating me by this point. This is supposed to be a simple pre-chorus to lead the song into the main part but why in Poseidon’s name nothing is working right?!?!?!?!

Beyond my own little world, I pick up on other sounds deducting movement. Noises of moving furniture and footsteps aren’t quiet anymore. The agitation from before in my stomach lessens as I glance at the clock, but the irritation remains as I continue glaring at the screen in front of me. Letting out a heated exhale I switch onto another track completely, knowing I have 2 things to tweak, but instead for some reason this feels like an entirely different song with a different meaning than it felt the hour before when I was satisfied with it. I just let my mood sour even more, today seemingly being against me creative wise.

My concentration is easy to break as something above me falters to the ground, my mate adding onto my frustrations as she’s taking her sweet time of doing whatever she’s doing instead of directly coming down to greet me, like it is the usual. Turning my head to the left, I’m still left amazed time to time at the concept of the house and her idea which she conceptualized.

This was after all her childhood home, but she bluntly went ahead and demolished half of it transforming the lower part of the entire house, which was built on rocks, into an open pool area of sorts. To humans, it’s a chill barbeque/ relaxing era with the pool being directly connected to the ocean, opening up to natural causes.

The pool stretches outwards from her relatively small house, but it has a shallow area where I am settled with a laptop and my gear all kept on dry land, meanwhile my lower body is submerged underneath the water, two of my limbs working lazily time to time, by bringing the water upwards to keep me wet. The tiled floor is smooth and comforting in a way beneath me. I know exactly where they stop and natural rocks begin to cover the sea ground.

Summers are of course always the best times to hang out in this area. But it has switched for me as well into loving it, which is an oddity. I am cold blooded through and through, I come from the debts of the ocean, where no human has even reached or even been to, where sunlight can’t reach anything. So, the contrast of everything was monumental, the biggest hurdle being the sun that hurt my eyes, the brightness almost blinding me at one point. But I’ve preserved becoming stronger than I once was, my whole mood and liking of summer changing into one of enjoyment. And it’s all because of her. In summers it’s easier for my beloved to spend more time with me in the water, and on land as it’s warm enough for her to sleep here, and stay and work and do whatever she wants to.

Even though I don’t look like it but I crave skin to skin contact with her, at all times if I can. Having her close, at and in arms reach means I can easily protect her from any harm, and bad. Nobody will ever harm her on my watch, that is a promise I’ve made to the gods, an oath to them and myself.

Upon my train of thoughts drifting I stumble upon an idea, fingers quick to act and move along, dotting down notes, which quickly develop the said idea long, from a mere image to creating a sort of a universe on its own. With only half my attention on what I’m doing I focus the other part of my brain on my surroundings.

I can hear my mates’ sweet tone, as she speaks to someone words pronounced sometimes clumsily but the giggles make it up for it. Frowning slightly, it takes me a moment or two to figure out that she is speaking over her phone. Good. I’m in no mood to have company or wait for her to be done being all polite and give them her attention which should be on me most of the time.

Besides she didn’t greet me this morning when she left for work, our everyday morning kiss being skipped. I need to get back at her for that. And yes, she will probably say she left me be because I love sleep, I mean who doesn’t but that isn’t a good enough excuse for me not to get a kiss.

I quickly examine how I’ve went on with the inputs into the music program, the newly created song filling my ears as I press play still working along. Some of my limbs come to life, playing around the water, hydrating my skin but also fooling around my mood obviously haven lightened up at the new discovery and creation thanks to my very own muse. I’m not entirely sure how much time passes on, as I get easily lost but I am aware when my mate does decide to finally descent down, greeting me. I manage a mere nod, still working ahead. I will admit that I am ignoring her on purpose, giving a bit of the silent treatment, upon her actions this morning. My kind and I as an individual can be very petty as humans can be too, but we can take it to extremes if we want to.

It isn’t until she is suddenly right next to me, her legs in the view of the corner of my eye. I slightly twitch as she bends down, knees buckling. Before I can jump in an attempt to grab her from falling, she’s right there her warm lips leaving a kiss on my cheeks, my skin tingling not only because of the warmth from them but also because of the innocent gesture. Turing to look at her in disbelief she has a bring smile on her face. There’s no irritation in sight on her, as I’ve predicted there would be.

‘’Hey there Mr. Grump.’’ She teases seemingly in a cheerful mood. She should be upset that I gave her back some of her own medicine, knowing very well how she dislikes silence between us.

‘’I’m not grumpy.’’ I immediately reply frowning as she starts to giggle instead. I take her in for the first time today. She has already changed, wearing a big white t-shirt that reaches till her mid-thighs while a black garment which is probably a bikini is visible through the thin material easily so. Hmm.

‘’Uh huh. I’ll play along with you. I’m the grumpy one, obviously.’’ She continues happily, still grinning her eyes seeming warm. She shifts on her bent position, sitting back properly while she swings her bent legs, and submerges them into the pool right next to me. Automatically my body consciously or subconsciously gravitates towards her.

‘’I take it, you had a good day at work?’’ I ask sparing a glance at my limbs as they are quick to raise up and eagerly wrap themselves around her ankles, and up her calves. She wiggles her toes, her muscles tensing and untensing briefly as she relaxes one hand finding one limb, as she starts to play with it gently the others eagerly following and raise up higher over her two legs.

‘’Very good day. We’ve got more funding, meaning the cleanup is continuing successfully and will go on steadily.’’ She’s quick to explain eyes on me, while I slide the headphones off completely to listen to her, my mood to create diming as she’s finally back.

‘’Hmm, I’ve noticed there has been more halibuts swimming around recently.’’ I note glancing at her seeing her eyes spark up instantly ‘’You should still consider cleaning the north west side first before moving onwards elsewhere, like I’ve suggested. Start by planting close at first, small things. you’re gonna see the fish are gonna grow it all on their own into a healthy ecosystem…if nobody touches anything around there of course.’’

She claps gently along nodding her head, in excitement and is quick to assure me that she has told her boss about my plan. She always gets this spark in her eyes whenever she talks about her job, being a Marine Biologist, these kinds of stuff just entrance her. Her words do start to falter, as I save up my progress along the way. The silence we fall into after she’s done explaining their plan too briefly, has me turning towards her noticing the content but small smile gracing her lips, as she stares down into the water absent mindedly.

‘’Are you okay baby?’’ I ask halting everything and turn towards her, letting my right arm rest over her knee as I move closer taking her hand into my own eagerly. Her smile widens, free hand reaching up to cup my cheek which she starts caressing with her thumb. She is way bubblier than this, whenever she’s talking about future plans on her days in general actually. This calm demander is worrisome.

‘’I’m perfect my love.’’ She replies leaning closer ‘’Just perfect.’’ Her words do make my heart flutter even more so when she leans in to kiss me on the lips. It’s still a bizarre thing, this human interaction that is considered to be so intimate. Something simple as kissing, lips pressing against one another. It works though, there is this spark that kissing ignites even in my own cold blood. I quickly return my own affections towards her with shameless eagerness, as I’ve been missing her for more than half of the day.

She ends up giggling into the kiss once I swipe my tongue over her lower lip, and teasingly start to tug at her legs, and hands. The kiss gets broken thanks to me smiling as well, her laughter being one of my favorite sounds in the world.

‘’Are you done for now?’’ she asks leaning on her elbows her body positioned in an awkward manner but she doesn’t move away or show discomfort.

‘’Yeah, the project I was working on wasn’t good either way.’’ I point out lessening my hold on her. I turn to my laptop quickly closing everything off whilst she sits up properly stretching out her fingers and arms. I push everything technology wise away, as it’s all propped on a self-built pillow and wooden plank which she made for me a long time ago. It’s all prevention from things getting wet, and despite her meticulous waterproofing and calculation of risks I still make sure not to ruin anything or take chances.

‘’Liar, I bet it’s amazing.’’ She mumbles. I glance over just in time as she tugs the white fabric over her head, which leaves her in the two thin pieces of clothing which are very offensive. I don’t understand why she isn’t bare all the time. I prefer her that way and it’s just easier. Life is easier without those restrains and barriers. My eyes roam quickly over the expanse of her skin, noting how her skin has been sun kissed today meaning she has spent her time out in the open. Before I can drink her up, she’s sliding into the pool, submerging until her chest a quiet hiss leaving her lips smile never leaving her lips. I push myself backwards silently sighing in relief as I let myself sink into the water, my skin feeling rejuvenated. I keep 3 limbs on her, raising them to hold her around her waist, while I sink further into the water and backwards encouraging her silently to follow keeping my head above at all times, eyes not leaving her for a second.

‘’It needs work.’’ I reply watching as she shivers for a while the contrast of temperatures too sudden. She looks unbothered stepping forward and follows along, moving her arms around warming herself up automatically. Turning towards her properly I catch onto her hands, her giggles filling the air as I tug her into me immediately wrapping myself around her protectively and teasingly as she can’t move a muscle in any way, she wants to my limbs making sure to hold her still. I automatically grin upon hearing giggles, as she lets me move her around trusting me whole heartedly even as I almost submerge her, but manage to hold her above the water level ‘’This is what you get for calling me a liar human.’’ I mock jokingly and push us away swimming towards the open ocean, bringing her along with me.

The colder and warmer currents, have her shuddering but she simply musses at me ‘’I’ll repeat myself; You are such a liar Yoongi-yah!!!’’ She exclaims grinning her hands finding their way to rest over my chest, as I move her to partially straddle me, the tiles below us being replaced by smoothened out rock. Stopping mid-way across the pool I stop us, taking in the cooler water currents that brush over my back and arm, whilst I hold her where the warmer current is floating around ‘’One of these days I’m going to make you admit that!’’ I only chuckle at her behavior simply admiring her and press a kiss to her nose quickly ‘’Yah!’’ the exclamation has me laughing, and half submerging underneath which leaves me unbothered ‘’Lets move on okay, pabo!!! Where are you even taking us?’’

And there it is her immediate curiosity, as she looks ahead at the vast ocean eyes falling back to glance along the rocks that same spark I mentioned before just burning up.

Briefly let’s mention the pool again…it might seem to the naked eye that it is in fact opened to the ocean and that it is welcoming anything in. Technically speaking it kind of is, but there’s a specially built underwater gate that prevents animals and other intruders to just float in into my home. Otherwise the benefits besides that ones are that it lets in fresh water and takes out the so to speak old one. Pushing us into motion in no time we reach the gates, which I prop myself onto holding her easily as her legs wrap themselves around my body, giggling as I brush the tip of a limp just bellow her exposed thigh to the edge of the undergarment ‘’I didn’t mean it like that.’’ her hand is quick to brush the tentacle away and to give me a stern look which she fails at because of her smile.

‘’Hmmm what a pity.’’ I reply faking disappointment, while she wraps her arms around me lovingly and despite her statement and action, she still leans in to kiss me. I sigh into the kiss contently, living the rocking motion of the waves that rock us up and down gently, while her touch is everything.

But were we are settled currently the sun is beating down on us, and it’s making itself annoyingly present by warming my skin up, even though I’m submerged more than she is. I do recall the north side which is just in front of me, being perfectly shaded the sun being blocked by the house perfectly so across the rocks on that side of the house.

Knowing when she’s getting low on oxygen, I break away brushing a strand of a lose few hairs from her face ‘’Are you in a mood to explore, my love?’’ I ask her curiously knowing her well enough to predict what her next answer is going to be. There’s a reason why I stopped here.

‘’Not really…’’ she starts hesitantly, glancing towards the ocean again. I’m reminded constantly everyday how much I love her and why exactly I do, and this is one of the moments as I take her profile in. Her eyes are focused straight ahead, expression portraying a longing for something greater, something she wants and has wanted her whole life. She doesn’t know it yet herself what it is, but the ocean is calling for her I know that for certain ‘’…I’ll need to refill the oxygen tanks first, we can explore another time.’’ She turns to me, with a smile. I can just feel how the tension melts from her muscles, and note in her body how she relaxes completely. But thanks to that I can see the tiredness resurfacing knowing she gives it her all at her work and for others.

My heart aches because I don’t want her to be tired, or worried and stressed at all. If it was up to me, I’d happily provide for us, find treasures frequently to afford only the best things in life, wanting to give her everything she wants and wishes for. But I’m being completely blocked off by her human stubbornness, her desire to work to a certain point infuriating but to another understanding.

‘’Whatever you want, my everything.’’ I reply leaning in to kiss once more. It starts out slow, lazy even as I brace her against the gate and let my hands submerge from her back lower to take a hold of her under her thighs. I love her legs, not only because they fascinate me, but because of how they feel under my arms and hands. Her thighs are an absolute delight to grab and hold onto. Don’t even get me started on her ass.

I smirk as I feel her tongue prod at my lip. She’s isn’t being forceful but she is playing a game plainly teasing me. I let her struggle on purpose, letting my hands roam over her thighs, fingers touching everywhere I can, while her own hands are rooming my back, then my neck, until she is cupping my jaws. I almost purr when she let her right-hand slide under my ear and into my hairline, nails scratching against my skull. My limbs practically vibrate, and on their own they wrap themselves more and more around her legs, for sure leaving imprint in their wake, but she told me countless times she doesn’t mind.

Sensing her growing frustration, I decide to let her have her fun letting her have some control, her tongue quick and eager to intertwine with my own. Her hand repeats the motion she did briefly ago, nails skillfully scratching me perfectly, causing me to gasp involuntarily as I tighten my hold onto her trying to tug her even closer which isn’t really possible anymore as I’m already crowding the very air she’s breathing. I want to touch every inch of her, my blood starting to feel as if it’s boiling. I want her. I want to eat her all up.

Just as I swipe my tongue across the roof of her mouth she is pulling away. Reopening my eyes, I notice how flustered she has gotten, breathing deepened as she half pants staring at me with darker eyes. I smile proudly seeing how I affect her ‘’Hmm I’ve missed you.’’ I find myself admitting running my fingers sideways and around to grab a hold of her glorious ass, the flesh smooth and oh so perfect in my hands.

She snorts leaning in to nuzzle her nose against mine, the ministration always endearing even though I’m still missing the point of it ‘’Me or my ass?’’

I muse glancing downwards, but end up looking straight up at her exclamation and how quickly she tugs her arms backwards to cross them, which only brings her breast to the front more ‘’Both.’’ I reply honestly which has her gasping. Now she is acting dramatic.

‘’Pfff sure. I see how it is!!!’’ She rolls her eyes looking away from me still holding her arms crossed, legs still wrapped around me, body slightly turned away. She’s adorable.

I squeeze her ass instead as an initial reply ‘’Babe, your ass is glorious how could I not miss it!!’’ she turns to stare at me in bewilderment, but the blush that’s getting more intense over her features is a dead giveaway that she doesn’t mind my crude words. My words aren’t even crude we’ve both said nastier things. Foreplays can be very fun.

‘’You just want me for my bodyyy.’’ Comes a reply which has her bursting into joyous laugher. It’s an inside joke between us from a TV show we’ve watched a long time ago. I only stare at her in adoration, as she throws her head back, hair cascading down touching the water even though she has it tied up into a mess ponytail. My entire focus is on her face, admiring in fascination at the way the side of her eyes circle slightly, the way she is showing her blunt teeth, nose slightly and adorably so scrunched. I’m fucking rejoicing as her laughter graces my ears, her voice shooting in general, but it’s her laughter and her giggles that melt my ice-cold slow beating heart any time.

‘’It’s a little more than that love.’’ I say smirking as she ends up chuckling at the end eyes finally landing on me once more ‘’I’m here also for the food, and music equipment.’’ I end up whispering. She bursts into another fit of laughter pushing me away playfully at first but ends up wrapping her arms around me, and to my surprise I’m getting an onslaught of kisses peppered all over my face.

‘’Help somebody I am being attacked by this puny human!!!’’ I fake shout simply raising my voice, which gets her to bite onto my ear the cheeky human indeed that she is. I gasp staring at her in bewilderment when she leans back to look at me, and shows me her tongue briefly.

‘’You are really asking for it.’’ I state as she scrunches up her nose and then puts on this innocent expression eyes darting upwards as if she has done nothing wrong ever in her life. I let my limbs crawl upwards over her lower half, as I’m holding her around her waist hands still on her ass to hold her steady.

‘’I am innocent, I have zero idea what you are on about.’’ She goes on further making me giggle, a few ideas popping in my mind with what I want to do to her.

‘’The only innocent thing here are the fish.’’ I reply to which she simply snorts glancing around as if fishes are swimming near us ‘’You on the other hand…’’ I end up sighing heavily, as I’m coming up with a lot of ideas, I know I won’t be able to fulfil all at once. Her stamina isn’t like my own, even though since we’ve been together the first time, she’s gotten to endure a lot more than what she was used to.

‘’Uh huh go on.’’ she says teasingly both hands ghosting over my shoulders, fingers finding the vertebrae of my spine. It has my shuddering for a moment, limbs relaxing slightly around her but wrapping themselves higher up one peeking over her shoulder only now I notice. I can feel the edge of her bikini bottoms, and I subtly try to move them to the side which so far is working as my hands are simply holding onto her flesh. The key to this method is going slow.

‘’Are you going to work tomorrow?’’ I ask keeping on a cool expression not wanting to give anything away, as my excitement is rising. If she says no or yes.

‘’Depends. I could not go.’’ She sings teasingly bringing her fingers to the nape of my hairline. I’m trying very hard not to just purr our loud, it feels that fucking good when she does it.

‘’That wasn’t a yes or no, my little human.’’ I go on giving her a more serious look, as I reach up to cares her cheek. She visibly gulps, eyes fixating onto my own.

‘’I’ll take the day off.’’ she replies with a more careful tone which has me smiling widely leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

‘’Good girl.’’ I praise her, feeling how her heartbeat is beating quicker. Her skin is still warm against my own ‘’Now be good for me, and climb up.’’ as I speak I move us further out, towards where a boulder is settled, having been rolled and cemented into an empty sloth perfectly and is the best resting place for her on sunny days, and on rainy it’s my napping rock. But in heated moments like these its perfect for something else.

‘’Yoongi-ah, should we move inside first…’’ she starts glancing upwards and back towards the beach and other houses nervously while I’m already maneuvering her upwards which has her yelping briefly voice getting cut off once her perky ass lands on dry land.

‘’I don’t understand where this shyness comes from on some days I really don’t.’’ I speak out loud more to myself, all the while I grab the two strings that are holding the bottom of her bikini together and easily undo them. The top follows expertly as two of my tentacles snatch the garment away.

‘’Yoongi!!!!!!!!!!!!’’ she half shouts hands grabbing onto my wrists, which does make me glance up at her in question, her hold lessening but remaining on me.

‘’Are you intentionally pushing my buttons today baby girl?’’ I ask letting two of my limbs let go of her calves to get a hold of her wrists.

‘’I’m not! It’s just, the beach is crowded and…’’ she starts to ramble. I take the chance of her brief distraction and worried glances backwards and around, to tug away her hands, easily pinning them next to her body.

‘’If you are so worried about others, then I suggest you keep quiet to not bring attention. I can help you out with that if you’d like too.’’ I grin in the end, and let one tentacle raise up over her still clothed core, and upwards her tummy, following every curve along the way. Regretfully I pass her breasts and let the tip start ghosting over her neck as she snaps to look at me her jaw locked tight. I keep heavy eye contact as she glares at me and tries to struggle, attempting to break free which is of course completely useless.

‘’This is not funny.’’ She goes on looking like she’s mad. You’d think she’s pissed off. But ohhh I know what’s going on in that pretty brilliant head of hers. This is turning her on. I can smell her besides the sea salt in the air, her pungent heavenly smell. Its why my limbs are already tugging the flimsy useless piece of fabric away and chugging it away which leaves her lower part bare to my eyes only.

‘’Oh baby, nobody is laughing.’’ I comment smirking ‘’Now, be a good girl and stay silent.’’

While two of my limbs hold onto her hands, I wrap two more around her thighs lifting and bending her legs, holding them wide open, meanwhile I eagerly lean down, poking my tongue out as I lick a long stripe from down upwards over her delicious core. Her breath hitches loudly, as I eagerly lick over my lips, then just dive in for more at first just blatantly licking her juices.

I can hear how she’s trying to keep quiet, but is failing miserably as small but noticeably loud mewls are leaving from her. Getting more serious and of course eager, I use my left hand to spread her lower lips revealing her folds properly. Perfect color of pink and a luring warmth and smells has me entranced. Happily, I dive down sucking directly onto the little numb that was so foreign the first time we’ve done this, but now I know exactly which flicker of my tongue can send her off. Hence why I start doing everything, to build her orgasm up quickly.

It has her reacting flawlessly and just as I’ve predicted in my mind. Her noises stat to raise up in volume, body bending backwards as she lies onto her back. Letting go of her clit, I teasingly lick over her lips giving her a second and then I’m dipping my tongue finally into her hole knowing it turns her on for some reason. A load moan tears itself out from her, which has me grinning smugly as I raise my head upon an urgent call of my name ‘’Yoongi!’’

‘’Yes, my love?’’ I ask ready to argue in return but what I’m met with is a desperate expression, cheeks completely flushed as she opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out as if to show me it.

‘’Please.’’ She suddenly begs. The way she’s rendered, the visuals are just stopping my brain from functioning normally for a moment. My blood has speed up, and my nerves are starting to tingle more and more, as I myself get turned on and at attention, body buzzing.

‘’Please what? Use your words, you are my good girl after all aren’t you?’’ I tease her happily smiling wider at her eager nodding.

‘’I’m your good girl. Please, I want…’’ she pauses but doesn’t remove her eyes from my own ‘’I want you in my mouth.’’ She almost whispers. I don’t push her on, and accept it as good enough.

‘’You are a very good girl today, my sweet, sweet human.’’ I coo, tilting my head ‘’There you go, gorgeous.’’ I watch as the tentacle that I left at her neck, raises slowly. She raises her head looking absolutely greedy to have it in her mouth. Teasingly slow I hover it near her mouth, while my fingers absently play with her folds tracing her lower lips. The initial touch has her flinching briefly in surprise eyes darting down to meet my own, as the pads of my fingers brush over her clit. So easily distracted. While her eyes and attention are focused on my ministration I watch giddily almost as the tentacle slips down, over her lower lip and into her mouth filling it. The warmth sends a brief shiver to run over me, but otherwise the feeling of her throat closing in and the choked sound that arouses, has my hunger raising.

‘’That’s it.’’ I coo, pulling the tentacle out letting her regain her breath just to push it back in, her throat this time accepting it properly. Her glossy eyes remain on me, obediently so as I fill her mouth, and stretch out her throat more and more, keeping in mind that she needs to breathe now and then, slowing my ministration just for her. Setting up a rhythm, I smile hungrily as I look down at the redness that’s starting to replace the pinkiness. Closing my eyes, my tongue finds her heat, tongue eagerly once more scooping the gathered wetness, as I taste the tanginess of her juices.

At a particularly well aimed and manoeuvred tongue swipe, she mewls and chokes on the tentacle in her mouth, the sensation of her throat closing in around tightly, has me shuddering harder than before. Reopening my eyes, I watch my limb retreat her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath, eyes ready to spill with tears at this point. A trail of saliva is still connected with the top and from her lips. She is absolutely fucking gorgeous.

‘’Yoo-n-gi…’’ she manages voice slightly rough. I haven’t pulled my mouth of off her, so instead I simply start sucking, and licking, building up a combo while with my right hand, I slowly prod at her entrance, my fingers which have dried now getting coated in her flowing juices. More sounds spill from her parted lips, breathless and whiny ones, as I let the tentacle slip inside her mouth once more muffling those glorious sounds. I don’t force it in this time, letting her suck onto it, her tongue quick to dart around it. It tells me that she isn’t distracted enough, even though her eyes are shut tight eyebrows furrowed, her fingers and toes curled up.

I start to push my middle finger into her tight and wet heat slowly loving the way she clenches up, the sensation on its own has a rather violent but invisible to the naked eye shudder run down my human spine, which then spreads and vibrates briefly all over my limbs that freeze for a second, but then just tighten their hold onto her. My precious human. Everything has me boiling on the inside, the visual, the sensations, her smell, her noises. It has me restless, has me wide awake and feeling so alive. Every piece of me wants her.

Knowing her body, instead of teasing her further or going slow by opening her up gradually, I let my pointing finger slide in next, a tiny bit forcefully as I do meet some resistance. Her body tenses, as she half sits up her yelp getting muffled.

‘’Shhhh…’’ I coo smiling letting two of my biggest tentacles reach around her to hold her up in the half sitting position she has put herself into ‘’Relax my love, just relax for me.’’ I encourage her, watching the sweet delicious tears run down her cheeks as our eyes meet. They aren’t there because she is hurt, but because she is overwhelmed with all these sensations.

I tug my fingers out and push them back in while maintaining eye contact, and slowly raising myself up to be closer to her ‘’That’s it, my good girl, doing what I tell her to do, hmmm.’’ I hum in the end, loving the obedient and almost innocent look she gives me. She is starting to get really desperate by the on flow of whines, and thighs which start to tremble now and then.

As I pull my limb back from her mouth, it falls open droll dripping from her slightly bruised lip. Gathering strength not to hurt her, I push my body upwards to reach her mouth, eagerly licking over her lips distracting her as she chases my tongue with her own. Now half propped up I readjust my position on the edge of the rock, and haver her legs spread but around me, using my left arm to hold her up, while with my right I can finally start to finger her properly and the way she wants me to, curling them up and scissoring them once I slow down my thrusts.

She cries into our kiss, tensing up once more, as I aim for her g-sport which has her crying out, incoherent words spilling. I grin wildly and lean my forehead against hers holding her still and tight against me, absolutely loving how she has clenched around my two digits.

‘’Use your words my little human.’’ With that I slow down, the action itself has her immediately nodding eyes meting my own in clear distress.

‘’P-please Y-Yoongi, please I wanna…I wanna cum, please Yoongi, my love, please, please, please don’t stop.’’ She cries with more tears spilling down her cheeks as she starts to tremble, her high near but fading.

‘’Then cum for me, gorgeous.’’ I whisper letting go of her wrists so she wraps her arms around me, body tensing and straightening up, as I resume to finger her towards and through her high, maintaining it and intensifying it. Instead of shouting out, I feel her blunt teeth sink where my shoulder meets my neck, while her nails dig and drag into my back leaving red marks over my skin. I groan at the burn, the tingling in my spine and vibration from my limbs an indictor how I’m boding.

Not wanting to be cruel this time, I start to slow down, coming to a stop slowly her body mimicking my touches as she eases down. Pulling my fingers out regretfully so to be honest, her body suddenly all but collapses onto me. I start to hum a song I’ve learned a century ago, and just hold her close to me, loving how she radiates heat and projects it onto me warming my cold self-up.

We are left in a comfortable silence, even when I lower us down into the water after licking her juices from my fingers. A quiet hiss leaves her lips, but she doesn’t protest or makes an attempt to move, as I push us away and lower us until only our shoulders and collarbones are sticking above the water. I let my limbs caress her body, and trace her skin gently as the ocean current would. No surprise is that even though I’m trying my best to let her gather herself I am getting very impatient, with my own needs.

So, I start by portraying it, by pressing open mouthed kisses over her collarbones, enjoying also as I submerge my face under water. I can hear her chuckle, as I leave marks in my wake, but upon her more awakened state I start to raise up, still marking her up happily and let my hands cup her ass again, pinkies tracing the juncture of her legs towards her folds again.

‘’Every time I think humanly so may I point out…’’ she starts tone unhurried and not so husky anymore. I let two of my limbs raise over her hips, up her ribs in the meantime ‘’…I think; “It can’t get better than this.” But yet you always leave me…’’

‘’Fucked right out of your mind?’’ I finish her sentence smirking as I still remain marking the side of her neck. Regretfully so I will have to heal the marks, as humans are ridiculously so timid creatures at certain things. She chuckles at my statement, gasping at first which turns into a moan, as the two tentacles have wrapped themselves around her breasts, the tips now playing with her perky nipples.

I glance downwards watching them raise up and down, noticing how her skin breaks into goose bumps.

‘’Basically.’’ She breathes out looking down at me. I smirk to myself rolling my shoulders, as she leans in this time hands reaching up to cup my face, but she doesn’t kiss me. She presses a kiss to my cheek and leans closer, lips touching over my ear ‘’Fuck me, Yoongi-ah.’’ she whispers.

Another spark goes through my system, which has me vibrating practically, and changes my soft look into a hard one as I stare at her as she has moved back, and is now biting onto her lower lip. It’s a rule that she isn’t allowed to do that. Only I can bite her lick. (And no this is nothing like 50 shades)

‘’You need to rest my love, you…’’ she leans in to kiss me, stopping my train of thoughts all together. It’s not only me that has a huge effect on her, she can also completely change me, my thoughts, my mood, my everything basically. A mere human. She truly is something else.

Her kiss becomes demanding quickly, body leaning forward shoulders squared up as she takes complete control over the kiss. I’m surprised once she starts to move her hips. Tries to as she is entirely leaning onto me having no proper support around us. So, I help her slightly, by pushing her back against the rock again, one of her hand momentarily leaving me, so she can brace herself back against it. I can feel her smiling into the kiss, breaking it but she isn’t letting go, her right hand which has been supporting the back of my head, has her fingers curling and tugging onto my hair making me groan quietly at the tug and pull, meanwhile her other hand is quick to find its place over my chest, lowering down over my right nipple. Her touch is brief as she continues to move her hands lower.

‘’I should return the favour.’’ She says sensually her hand still lowering, ignoring the small tentacle that eagerly wraps itself from her wrist to her elbow just caressing her skin and holding onto her.

‘’We don’t have time for that baby.’’ I reply trying to stay calm. Even though she is my mate, and we’ve been together for what feels like an entire lifetime it’s still not completely easy to reveal all f myself to her. I still get nervous, when we’re intimate. But I’ve gotten good at hiding my feelings and nerves away.

‘’Alright then.’’ she sighs sounding disappointed but licks her lips teasingly and as if quietly saying ‘Guess you’ll be missing out’. I shudder as her fingers trace the front tentacles, not really intending to play with them. She does have to lower herself down to reach what she wants, but stops mid-way, face slightly lower than mine is as she readjusts herself and her hold on me ‘’Yoongi.’’ She whispers staring straight at me hands tightening their hold ‘’I want you to fuck me.’’ she states completely calm hand suddenly raising up cupping my cheek the coolness and wetness from the water slightly calming me down ‘’Do you want to fuck me, my love???’’ I simply blink staring at her trying to calm myself down as I nod at her question ‘’I’ll keep my hands here alright?’’ she goes on wrapping both arms around my neck, and intertwines her own fingers, while she wraps her legs around my body her knees tucked where my human hips would be ‘’Please, fuck me.’’ she whispers not doing anything ‘’I’m so wet and ready for you, my mate.’’

Even though I tried to hide my nerves, she saw right through me. My mate. I press her against the wall gently letting my limbs do the work as to anchor us against it, so we aren’t moving too much thanks to the reappearance of the waves that is making the pool unsteady enough so that with a small mistake something bad might happen.

Not saying anything yet I reach with my human hand up and take her right into my own, kissing the top part of it, before lowering both hands down underwater. Her expression does change into a surprised one at the beginning, mouth opening as to say something but she simply closes it, her gorgeous eyes focused onto my own. Even though we aren’t physically connected right now, we are one.

I watch as colour returns to her cheek, turning it into a more intense pink-ish colour. I can feel her body warming up, blood rushing through her veins, same as her heart spiking in excitement. A few shudders one after another just shoot down my spine, and it is a human trait I’ve learned, but fuck the sensation thanks to it, has me experiencing something no one of her own kind would, on the male side. Readjusting my grip, I cup her hand instead over the top part. I lean into her but this time, I rest my forehead in the crock of her neck, staring down watching our hands through the water. Finally, I move our hands forward stopping before my body. A short gasp leaves her lips as I just hover our hands close, meanwhile the pit in my stomach start to boil in excitement. My cock isn’t necessarily like my limbs, I can’t really control it per say. It has humanoid traits but it doesn’t act like a tentacle it’s hard to explain it. Letting go of her hand, I reach in to grab a hold of it feeling how much it has filled up and grown. I tug it forward to the front, past the cosy and safe confine of my other limbs. Some sort of goose bumps raise over my skin as well, as I feel very exposed and vulnerable, even more so when the tip of her fingers touches the head.

A gasp involuntarily leaves my parted lips, but she’s quick to press a reassuring kiss to my cheek, her right hand that’s been resting on my shoulder, kind of gripping it in anticipation or excitement, loosens up and reaches up to my hairline again nails scraping against my skull which has me relaxing slightly.

‘’May I?’’ she asks calmly, her breath fanning warmly over the side of my neck. I barely manage a nod but she understands it perfectly. Instead of grabbing onto my dick as I thought she would, her fingers touch my wrist instead at first. They gently caress it, and lower themselves down. I automatically tense up once, the tips of her fingers are touching just over the base of my cock where I’m holding it. It’s such a contrast her touch against my own and it’s not only temperature wise.

I start biting onto my lower lip, eyes closed and just feel, how she gently traces my dick as if she’s doing it the first time (She isn’t just let me clarify, but it is rare and special whenever I let her touch me like this). Her hand finally wraps itself around me, in the middle but pulls up towards the head, which is very sensitive and has me hissing, my dick practically twitching and following her warmth on its own.

‘’Hmmm Yoongi-ah.’’ She moans softly, fingers brushing the tip again which has me letting out a faint sob ‘’Shhh it’s alright my love…’’ her hand circles around my cock again, but lowers down towards my hand again ‘’Will you fuck me my love? Will you fill me up so that I’m leaking for days?? I want you to fuck me, so I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, I want to feel you in my womb, want you to fill it all up…’’ I’m surprised at the change in her, the submissiveness from before replaced by this strong and dominant presence she has put on.

And her words do have a tremendous effect on me. They have me buzzing, wanting her more, want me to fulfil every wish she has. Again silent, I grab onto her wrist and pull our hands upwards, at the same time leaning backwards noticing that the sky is setting, with the sun sinking over the horizon. But that doesn’t matter. When I look at her, her hair has dried up, cheeks not so pink anymore.

‘’Yoon…’’ before she can finish or properly start her sentence, I grab her by her throat and squeeze while at the same time, I grab onto my cock again and easily manoeuvre her how I like, by spreading her legs wide open whilst at the same time, I let another tentacle to raise up and slide into her mouth, letting go of her neck not wanting to actually choke for real. The two tentacles from before that have just been caressing her breasts now tighten as well, and another two joins to wrap themselves around her nipples. Two more make sure her arms remain under my control.

‘’Fill you all up huh?’’ I start with a deep tone readjusting half of my limbs and drag her backwards towards the shallower part of the pool and away from any unwanted eyes. The only lights that are always turned on are the pool ones ‘’You don’t want to walk tomorrow huh little human? Want me to fill you up so that you’ll be leaking, your womb filled up for days?’’ she eagerly nods at my word’s eyes glassing over as she reverts back into her sub state.

‘’I don’t think you can take it.’’ I challenge her, eyebrows furrowing as she turns to glare at me. I simply let the tentacle shove itself further into her throat, feeling it start to close in. But she still glares at me defiantly, like she wants to say something. With my right hand, I simply let it run over her exposed pussy. I let my middle and pointing finger trace lower to her asshole which has her body tightening up ‘’Your little human body, can’t take me whole darling.’’ She starts to properly choke pretty tears glittering as they fall down from her eyes. Pulling the tentacle out she gasp for breath, heaving. Meanwhile I finally find the perfect position and sit on the smooth ground. Getting a hold of her hips I straighten her up, arms locked behind her back tightly.

I grin widely as she looks at me ‘’I’ll split you wide open, is that what you wish for??’’ I ask casually while she stares at me still in defiance before something in her brain clicks and the desperation slips back in.

‘’Please.’’ Her voice is gone, but I understand the word she mouths.

I don’t even give her a heads up, as I raise her above me, bend her knees and plant them on the floor. I let some of my limbs attach themselves on her, as I take a hold of my cock and start to force it into her. She gasps and mewls her body’s natural reaction at first is to run away from the intrusion. We’ve been over this so many times. It’s all natural, as is the size of my cock which is above average, and I’ve put that into human terms, her quote directly.

My mouth falls open, as the head of my dick enters her, and eagerly wants to chase after the warmth. And yet despite the onslaught of pleasure that’s overwhelming me in waves, I hold myself back just to stare at the way her eyes roll back, and feel how her thighs and forearms tense up meaning her fingers and toes are already curling up. Her head falls backwards revealing her half marked up neck. I mimic a human way of mating which is; a thrust. It has me entering more halfway to be precise but she suddenly shouts out body jerking and then going limp only her hips briefly shaking until they stop. I smirk staring as her head falls forward, to which I cup her cheek and take a look at her. The moisture on her skin is from sweat, the sight bringing a chuckle to rise from my throat, as she continues to breathe deep eyelids half closed not leaving my own eyes.

I readjust myself slightly, and grab a hold of the bottom of my cock, to help and guide it properly into her. The waves of pleasure are still going through me, my spine tingling more and more demandingly. But I ignore my own pleasure at the moment in favour of making sure she’s alright. I set her hands free and take her weight off her legs, settling her so that she’s simply straddling me arms resting between us limply.

‘’Fucked out 2 times, another point for me.’’ I state as I sit up and start marking her left side eagerly loving the still unusual taste of her skin.

‘’It’s not…’’ she starts tiredly ‘’It’s not a com…’’

‘’Not a competition yeah, yeah.’’ I chuckle in the end, licking the shell of her ear before I look at her, at her heavy eyelids that are slowly rising and falling as my cock continues to pulse inside her ‘’Do you still wish to continue my love??’’ cupping her face I look at her with such adoration, because she is my everything. Truly she is the reason I’m living and alive. And I’d give anything for her to be happy an get whatever her heart desires.

She lets out a groan of what sounds of discomfort, and closes her eyes briefly. Looking at me a smile stretches across her lips ‘’So full. M just…’’ She trails off looking intoxicated making me grin and nuzzle my nose against her a trait that she likes to do to me, as it is considered childish.

‘’Hmm yeah? Are you feeling good baby?’’ I prod on, waiting for her to get comfortable enough to continue.

‘’So-o goooddddd.’’she practically purrs her fingers that are resting on my lower abdomen, curl up as she attempts to rolls her hips. And that is a sign to continue. I simply hum in agreement, and move her body up slightly so there’s enough room to start fucking her ‘’Ahhhh..’’ she gasps head falling forward again, but this time her eyes remain open as she stares down. I know for a fact that she’s trying to see through the water as much as see can to see us connected. I find myself getting breathless the more times I tug out and re-enter her, the tightness the heath, the feel of her velvety walls all around me, are starting to feel overwhelming. Giving in, I let her be as I lie back getting submerged all besides my face while I let myself get overwhelmed by everything.

It’s easy to succumb to pleasure, especially given how much she is giving me; because she is giving me literally everything. Everything starts to feel too much, but not enough. It’s never enough. I can hear her moans, how they roll of her tongue the sounds matching to those of an angel if you ask me. And through hooded eyes I watch as she moves her hand, placing it over her own stomach. When she presses against it, I can feel her hand. She tears her eyes away and up to meet my own, a goofy smile adoring her lips suddenly.

‘’I-I-I love y-y-you…’’ she manages out, those simple 3 words warming my cold heart every time she says them.

I push myself upwards bringing my own hand over hers  ‘’I l-love y-you too, Y/N.’’

Her thighs start to tremble again, hands reaching for something to grip onto, which again end being two of my tentacles that eagerly wrap themselves over her forearms. Her strength isn’t enough to hurt me at all no matter how strongly she squeezes. Meanwhile my hand remains pressed plat over her stomach, and I just remain half in awe as I feel myself move in her, reaching and brushing up against her womb. By this point she has gone quiet, breathless, and speechless from how overwhelming it must be. Glancing up I watch as and can feel as her orgasm hits her and takes completely over, her mind and body. As I feel her tummy, images of children running, and swimming some that look like her other like me, running around fills me up with joy and excitement. But the sight of her so undone and vulnerable that alone…it’s all because of me. The only person the only being I’ll ever be so open with, the only one I care about, my heart, my body, my soul all belong to her. Everything.

With those train of thoughts and the actually imagine of her with a big belly, it has me spiralling over as I finally let myself get washed away with the tide.

I still am aware on what’s going on around us, I hold her close to me feel her hand wrap around my back, hold me in return. I can fee her lips press kisses to my neck, my cheek, I can feel them moving and faintly can hear her sweet tone. She’s singing. Huh. A siren. I always tease her that she has sirens blood in her, but she always denies it. So, if not a siren she is an angel like I’ve mentioned.

‘’Yoongi-ah.’’ She whispers her tone clear. I spread my fingers testing out how my limbs work, my other limbs which are submerged in the water as most of my body has sunk down work normally still tingling all over. I reopen my eyes seeing her smiling widely. I don’t even remember closing my eyes let alone lying back down again, my mind having shut down for a while. She’s leaning above me, comfortably lying over my front and is running the pads of her fingers over my face, with this far-away look again in her eyes. But once they met mine its like she has found herself again ‘’I love you.’’ She whispers again, eyes crinkling as she smiles looking genuinely happy.

I find myself smiling easily in return at how ridiculous my human is, but look at her and remove my hand from her belly to cup her cheeks that are still warm ‘’I love you more, my sweet human.’’

Copyright 2020© by barbika1508. All rights reserved.

[fairylightsandchai]

The Internship - Part 2

A/N: Hello, again! Just popping in again to say that I know I don’t usually post fanfic here, but I really wanted to take part in @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​‘s Pre-Code Challenge! Just ignore this if you don’t follow me for fanfiction. :) Also, I’ll be adding tags in a reblog. 

Read Part One Here!

As a side note, I’ve made a new blog since writing this dedicated to fanfic. If you wanna check it out, click here!

Pairings:  Dark!Professor!Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: >10K

Summary:  You are a student in the former-Captain America’s American History class, and you soon notice that Professor Rogers has been paying more than a professional amount of attention to you. But when he approaches you with an internship opportunity that’s too good to be true, how can you say no?

(A/N: This fic contains non-con elements, stalking, and manipulation, and this part will inclue rape, breeding kink, and kidnapping. It is also inspired by The Wild Party, a film from 1929. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think.)

You let out a curse as your hand fumbled around inside of your purse; you professor would be there any second to pick you up, and your phone was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn that you’d set it down on your nightstand to charge, but it hadn’t been there that morning, and after spending the better part of an hour looking for it, you were beginning to give up hope.

           A knock sounded at your door and you swore again, finally setting your purse down next to your packed suitcase and hurrying to answer it. On its other side stood Steve, a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He was dressed much more casually than you’d ever seen him before, wearing a pair of dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket.

           Staring between him and the bundle of daisies, you blinked once, twice before finally finding your voice again.

           “Steve! I… Are those for me?” you asked, and he let out a soft laugh.

           “Nah, they’re for the other girl who lives here,” he joked.

           “I’m sure she’s very grateful,” you managed, taking the bouquet from him and giving it a sniff. “What’s the occasion?”

           “Well,” he began, following you into your apartment as you went to locate a vase, “I know that you had your reservations about joining me, and I wanted to get you a little something for agreeing to the internship.”

           “Oh.” You finally found an old pitcher that you’d never before used and started filling it with water, watching Steve out of the corner of your eye. He seemed right at home, browsing your book collection with his hands in his pockets as he skimmed the titles. “Well thank you! They’re beautiful.”

           After setting the daisies into the water, you turned to face your professor.

           “So… Are you ready to head out?” you asked, and he quickly turned his attention back to you.

           “Sure am.”

           Before you could protest, he walked over to your suitcase and picked it up, not even batting an eye at how heavy it was. You scurried over to pick your purse up and follow him out of your apartment.

           “I might need to stop at a Best Buy on the way,” you told him as you locked the door. “I can’t seem to find my phone…”

           “You can’t go without it for a week?”

           “I mean… I can, but I would rather not have to,” you explained. “My mom might start to worry if I don’t keep in touch.”

           “Well how about you use my phone? I would hate for your family to be concerned.”

           You followed him to his car, surprised at how sleek and modern it looked; it had to be worth more than a couple years of your rent.

           “Are you sure? It won’t be too much of a bother?” you asked, moving to open the passenger door. Steve’s hand shot out faster than yours, though, opening it for you with a smile.

           “It would be no trouble at all, (Y/N),” he assured you.

           With a quiet “thank you”, you slid into your seat, flinching when Steve closed the door behind you. As you sank into the dark leather beneath you, you wondered if it was too late to turn back. You couldn’t get that meeting in his office out of your head; the way his voice had hardened, the way his face had turned stormy when you hadn’t thanked him initially, it still sent shivers down your spine. Steve had spent years as America’s ‘golden boy’, but you couldn’t shake the suspicion that there could be a darker side of him just beneath the surface.

           You jolted in your seat when you heard his door open, and you watched as he climbed into the driver’s side, his weight making the car shift as he settled in.

           After flashing a small smile your way, he pressed a button and the car started, its engine purring quietly. You were both silent as you made your way to the interstate, your apartment fading into the distance in the rear-view mirror. It was only after the car was on the highway that Steve glanced your way again.

           “You can put on the radio, if you’d like. We have a good hour of driving ahead of us, and that’s if traffic isn’t too crazy.”

           You sighed; traffic in the city was always crazy.

           You fiddled with the radio, eventually finding a station that you liked and turning it down to a low volume, just wanting some background noise.

           “Hey, I actually know this song,” Steve smiled. “Doesn’t happen too often these days; most of the music I listen to is on the records I have at home.”

           You smiled a little at that; some of the things he said really made him sound like a grandpa.

           “I like the oldies, too,” you told him, head turning to look out your window. “Do you have a favorite band?”

           Steve thought about it for a second, his thumbs tapping absentmindedly against the steering wheel.

           “Well… You’ve probably never heard of them, but I really liked The Ink Spots back in the day. Oh, and Frank Sinatra is pretty hard to beat.”

           “I happen to enjoy Sinatra myself,” you said. “I don’t know a lot of his music by name, but he has a really distinct voice.”

           “That’s true,” Steve smiled. “…You know, you have a really distinct voice, too.”

           Well, that came out of nowhere. You chuckled a little, feeling your cheeks heat up.

           “I…don’t think so,” you tried to dismiss him.

           “No, I mean it,” he insisted. “I really like your speaking voice; I imagine you’re a nice singer, too.”

           “You are… so wrong,” you informed him. “My singing voice sounds like a cat being boiled.”

           He threw his head back, his shoulders shaking with the force of his laugh.

           “And just how do you know what that sounds like?” he asked you, glancing away from the road to raise an eyebrow at you.

           You just shrugged, your smile fading slowly as you looked down at your lap.

           “Why do you do that?” you heard yourself saying.

           “Do what?”

           “Compliment me so much,” you clarified, not daring to look his way. “You always have something nice to say about me. Why?”

           It took Steve a few moments to answer, evidently pondering over his words.

           “Well,” he finally said, “I suppose I’m just used to saying what’s on my mind. Everything I’ve told you has been true, you know.”

           You felt something in your chest flutter, and you chewed on your lip as you cranked the radio louder. It wasn’t necessarily the words he’d spoken just now that unsettled you; no, it was the way he’d said them: softly, earnestly, in a tone that you don’t just use with a student or a friend. You tried to push that thought away, tried to write it off as ridiculous; he was Captain America. Why and how would he ever develop feelings for someone like you?

           The majority of the car ride passed in silence, and you watched the sun sink lower into the sky. He’d picked you up in the middle of the afternoon, and as the winter dragged on, the days were getting shorter and shorter. So when you finally made it into Brooklyn, the sky was awash in light pinks and oranges; the sun would be going down in about two hours.

           “So, I was thinking,” Steve finally spoke up, setting his right hand on the gear shift, “that we could stop for an early dinner before heading to our hotel room. I know a great pizza place close by.”

           His pinky was just barely resting against your thigh as he spoke, and even that tiny point of contact was enough to make you uncomfortable. You pressed your thighs together, putting some distance between your leg and his hand, and you thought that you saw his jaw clench at the motion.

           “U-um,” you finally spoke up, realizing he was still waiting for an answer, “yeah, that sounds good. I could go for some pizza.”

           With a nod of his head, he turned his turn signal on, turning down the next road. In no time, he’d parked the car in a parking garage and led you out onto a street. When you reached a brick building with a sign that said Lucali on it, he held open the door for you, waving you in before him.

           The smell of Italian food immediately washed over you, and you almost let out a moan as you deeply inhaled. A young, sweet-looking hostess walked to the two of you instantly, doing a double take when she saw the man you were with.

           Grabbing a few menus, she, for her credit, quickly got over her moment of being star-struck.

           “Good evening; table for two?”

           “That’d be great,” Steve said, giving her one of his trademark smiles. “We would like one in the back, if any are available.”

           “O-of course, Mr. Rogers,” she assured him, leading you both into a more secluded area. Jazz music was playing over the sound system, and as you sank into the booth you were led to, you noticed that every table had a small succulent on its surface.

           “Can I get you guys started with something to drink?” the nice girl asked, and you were about to say that you’d just take water when Steve interrupted you.

           “We’ll have a bottle of the house red blend,” he told her.

           “Oh, no,” you tried to say, “I don’t really want any wine-“

           The look Steve gave you stopped you dead in your tracks, and you were quickly taking back your words for a reason you couldn’t quite name.

           “U-um, that is, could I have a water with that?” you corrected yourself. Steve smirked, never taking his eyes off of you as the hostess hurried away.

           You squirmed in your chair, not daring to make eye contact with the man in front of you until he spoke your name softly.

           “Um… Yes?”

           “You know, I’d really like it if you were able to relax,” he said softly. “Sip some wine with me; try not to be so tense. Let yourself enjoy the evening.”

           Before you could reply, the hostess was back with your drinks, and you immediately chugged half of the glass of wine she’d poured for you – you would welcome anything that could take the edge off, at this point.

           “So,” Steve said, not touching his own glass, “I have a whole itinerary planned out for tomorrow. I thought we could start out by going to the building I grew up in; I was sure that they’d have tore it down by now, but apparently it’s still an apartment complex.”

           “We could even take some pictures,” you added, finishing off your glass. “They might be a nice inclusion to the chapter.”

           “That’s a great idea,” he smiled. “So, we’ll check it out and take some photos, and then we’ll go to Coney Island; Bucky and I used to go there all the time. Once, he made me ride this rollercoaster there until I got sick.” Steve laughed fondly at the memory. “But I got him back the next time and made him go on the tilt-a-whirl until he passed out.”

           You chuckled, feeling the wine start to tingle pleasantly through your veins.

           “Bucky? That was your best friend, right? The…the winter soldier?”

           Steve’s smile grew sad at the mention of that title, but he nodded his head, reaching over to your glass of water and taking a sip casually. If it weren’t for the wine, you were sure you’d have found that odd, but you didn’t even think twice about it.

           “He doesn’t like to be called that anymore,” he corrected you. “But he was known by that name once.”

           You were both silent as he poured you another glass, and you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before promptly sipping on it. The air between you felt awkward all of a sudden, and you regretted bringing up the tender subject.

           “So,” you spoke up, “what else is on your itinerary?”

           “Well…” Steve perked up, “I thought that we could head over to Central Park after Coney Island; it’s all the way in Manhattan, but I used to go there and draw when I was a kid.”

           “You like to draw?”

           “I sure do. It’s one of the things that I’ve been good at since before the serum.”

           “I’m sure that’s not true,” you assured him.

           “Oh, believe me, it is,” he grinned, and there was a softness in his eyes as he looked at you. “Other than getting in way over my head. I’ve always done that, too.”

           When the waitress came by your table, Steve ordered for the both of you, but you didn’t mind; he happened to order your favorite type of pizza, and you smiled at the coincidence. The wine was starting to make your head buzz, but you welcomed it over the constant anxiety you seemed to be facing these days.

           Your pizza came out surprisingly quick, right in the middle of a story you were telling Steve about your childhood. He was watching you so intently, his chin resting on his palm and his eyes sparkling with amusement. First one, then two more glasses of wine had been drunk (by only one of the people at your table), and when the bottle went empty he slid his still-full glass over for you to finish.

           The both of you were completely silent as you ate the pizza; it seemed that you both were hungry. You ate your fill before sitting back and watching Steve ate the majority of the meal as you sipped your wine; you’d never seen anybody eat that much pizza in one setting, but then again, you’d never dined with a super soldier before.

           The sun outside had completely disappeared by the time the two of you were finished, an entire bottle of wine sloshing in your belly as you stumbled out of the restaurant.

           “Woah there,” Steve chuckled, holding his arm out for you to support yourself on. “You ok?”

           “’M great,” you waved him off. “Just drank a little more than I was expecting to. You should’a stopped me at my second glass.”

           All Steve replied with was a deep chuckle, leading you back to the car and helping you into your seat. You blushed as he buckled your seatbelt for you, feeling like a child.

           “I can do it myself,” you tried to protest, but he batted your hands away when you reached for him.

           “I know you can. But I want to help you.”

           You huffed but made no attempt to further protest, settling in against the cushy seat as he started to drive you to the hotel. Your eyelids were slowly starting to feel heavier, and you jolted when you suddenly felt a hand descend on your shoulder.

           “Hey, doll,” Steve was saying, “We’re here. Wake up.”

           You blinked sluggishly; you hadn’t meant to drift off. Letting out a soft grunt, you opened your door and stood up on stiff legs. Your teacher smiled over at you as he unloaded your suitcases, handling all of the bags as he led you out of the parking garage and into one of the fanciest hotel lobbies you’d ever seen.

           Your shoes clicked against the marble flooring as you walked with Steve to the receptionist’s desk. The man behind the counter gave your professor a wide smile, not even sparing you a glance as he greeted the soldier.

           “Welcome, Mr. Rogers,” he grinned. “We are honored to have you staying with us, sir.”

           “Thank you,” he replied. “We have a reservation under-“

           “Rogers, yes. We have your room all set up.” The man handed Steve a keycard, and you wondered if he would start vibrating with how excited he was at having such a famous guest. “Please, do let us know if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant.”

           “I sure will; have a good evening.”

           With that, Steve gestured for you to walk into the nearby elevator before him, pressing the button for the 11th floor.

           “I was wondering if that guy was gonna kiss you,” you joked, and he threw his head back as he laughed.

           “I…am very glad he didn’t,” he sighed. “Wouldn’t wanna make you jealous.”

           Your eyes widened, but before you could say anything, the elevator dinged open and Steve was making a beeline down the hallway. You rushed to follow him to a door marked “1110”, and the first thought you had after he unlocked the door and led you inside was…there’s only one bed. The room was gorgeous, of course. Soft carpet flooring, white linens, dark wood furniture, and you passed a spacious, luxurious bathroom as you stepped further into the room.

           “Um… Steve?”

           He turned to you as he set your bags on the dresser, eyebrows raised.

           “Yeah?”

           “There, um… There’s only one bed.”

           “Oh,” he said, looking around at the bed as if only just then noticing it, “Yeah. All of the rooms with two were taken.”

           “…Um… Alright, then,” you said, starting to sober up from the wine.

           Walking over to the bed, you pulled off one of the pillows and dropped it to the floor, gripping the comforter and moving to pull it off of the mattress.

           “What are you doing?”

           You met Steve’s eyes, halting in your movements.

           “I’m making myself a bed on the floor.”

           “The floor?”

           You nodded, wondering why it was so surprising.

           “Yeah, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor,” you said. “You paid for the room, so you deserve the bed.”

           “…Why don’t we just share it?”

           You felt your cheeks heat up at his question, feeling like a deer in headlights as he stared at you.

           “U-um, well… It’s just that you, um… you’re my teacher,” you explained, feeling dumb as you said so. “Wouldn’t that be…inappropriate?”

           “Oh, c’mon, doll,” Steve sighed, setting his hands on his hips. “We’re both adults. You don’t need to be so immature about this.”

           Your eyes were round, and your mouth hung open, not knowing what to say to that. Your chest tightened at the feeling of disappointment, for some reason feeling sick at the thought of Steve thinking of you as ‘immature’.

           “I…  I’m sorry,” you stuttered, voice small. “I’m just…going to put my pajamas on.”

           You opened your suitcase hurriedly and snatched the first tank top and pajama pants you saw before rushing into the bathroom, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You took your time dressing, not wanting to venture back out into the bedroom to face him again; why did he bother you so much? Why did you care about what he thought?

           Letting out a deep sigh, you looked at yourself in the mirror, heart sinking when you saw your shirt. Or, rather, what was showing straight through your shirt. Your nipples were clearly visible through the thin material of your white tank top, and for a second you pondered putting on your bra again. But it was stark black, sure to show through even more blatantly than your nipples.

           Staring up at the ceiling, you briefly wondered if there was some higher power out there who just liked watching you squirm, scattering awkward, embarrassing moments throughout your life like a child throwing confetti.

           Whatever, you decided, gathering up your dirty clothes and holding them against your chest. Steve thought you were immature, anyways. He probably wouldn’t spare your nipples a second glance, right?

           …Right?

           Summoning your courage, you opened the door and walked out, not once glancing over at your teacher as you headed to your suitcase. Not even when you heard him sigh and sit up straighter on the bed.

           “Doll, I didn’t mean to be mean earlier,” he was saying as you shoved the bundle in your hands into the bag. “You’re very mature for your age, and I-“

           You turned around, mouth open to speak, but you stopped when Steve’s words were cut off by a deep inhale. You glanced up shyly, just in time to see his eyes fly up from your chest to your face, his eyes a bit wide as he tried to keep his gaze fixed on yours.

           For the first time since walking back into the bedroom, you realized that he was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, his muscles on full display as he lounged against the headboard. You hoped he didn’t see how your thighs clenched together at the sight, but his eyes caught every movement you made as you stood before him.

           “I…” he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry for calling you immature earlier.”

           You nodded, tearing your eyes away from his pectorals as you padded over to your side of the bed. Not daring to make any eye contact, you lifted the sheets, snuggling down into them and turning onto your side. You were faced away from him as you spoke next.

           “It’s ok,” you said. “I think I’m going to go to bed now.”

           “Alright, doll,” Steve murmured. “Goodnight.”

           A few moments later, you felt his weight leave the bed as he got up to turn off all the lights. Once the room was completely dark, you felt the bed dip again, and you curled up into a ball to try and take up as little space as possible.

           For a long while, you could only hear your own breathing, and one by one your muscles were beginning to relax. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, though, you heard sheets sliding against skin, and then a pair of impossibly strong arms were wrapping themselves around you.

           Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second you froze. Your heart was pounding, and you felt Steve’s hot breath against the back of your neck. Wondering if he was just latching onto you in his sleep, you tried scooting away, wriggling in his iron-like grip. But despite your best efforts, he wouldn’t budge.

           “Steve,” you whispered, “can you-“

           “Stop,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling into the side of your neck. “Just be still.”

           Your eyes widened, and you felt a rising tide of panic swell in your chest. Once more, you tried to distance yourself from him, reaching back behind you to try and push against his chest, but he only tightened his grip on you, squeezing you until it was beginning to grow harder to breathe.

           “Stay. Still,” he growled, giving you one hard shake.

           You whimpered at his tone, too shocked to say anything else. Limply, you let your hands fall back to your side, feeling the fight leave your body like water going down a drain.

           “Good girl.”

           Letting out shaky breaths, you forced your eyes to close and willed your breathing to slow down. Despite your discomfort, your exhaustion was getting the best of you, and your eyelids were once more growing heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake you, and in the last moments before it completely won you over, you realized how warm Steve was, how nice it felt to be in someone’s arms. In any other situation, you could see yourself enjoying this.

           But tonight was different. Tonight, you were trapped, and as nice as your body felt, your mind was at war with itself as you finally succumbed to sleep.

­­­­­­­­__________

           You woke up impossibly warm. There was a comforting weight on top of you, and the pillow beneath your head was so soft, providing just the right amount of support. It was so unlike your own bed back home, filled with lumps and-

           Your breath caught in your throat as the events of the night before came flooding back to you. Your eyes flew open, falling to the blonde head currently resting against your chest – Steve. He seemed to be asleep, his arm wrapped around your stomach and his lips slightly parted. From this angle you could see how long his eyelashes were, and for a brief moment you felt a flutter of jealousy.

           But that feeling soon left when he took in a deep breath through his nose, his spine stretching and his arm flexing against you. You felt his thumb lazily trace circles against your side as he let out a yawn.

           “Good morning,” he sighed, eyes still closed.

           You gulped, feeling that familiar spike of fear inside you.

           “Good m-morning,” you whispered back. You made to swing your legs over the side of the bed, but his arm only tightened in its grip.

           Finally, he opened his eyes and looked up at you.

           “Where are you going,” he asked, voice suddenly devoid of all sleepiness.

           “Just to the bathroom,” you murmured, and thankfully, he let you go, rolling onto his back to allow you to stand up.

           You felt his eyes on you the entire time it took for you to cross the room, and you let out a sigh of relief once there was a door separating you. A door which, you knew, he could easily put his fist through if he wanted; you’d always been aware of his strength, but it hadn’t seemed real to you until you’d felt his arms caging you in against him.

           As you went about your business, you belatedly came to the realization that there was no explaining his actions anymore. You could no longer shake away the feelings of unease Steve arose within you; you could no longer call yourself ridiculous for not feeling safe with Captain America, of all people. As you washed your face and considered your countenance in the mirror, you felt your world came to a screeching halt as you accepted the fact that had been right in front of you the entire time.

           Steve wanted you.

           After gathering up your courage, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Steve already up and dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. He gave you a soft smile when your eyes met, but now you could see the steel behind it.

           “I figured we could just eat breakfast here,” he told you, using such a nonchalant tone that for a second you forgot entirely about last night. “They have a buffet downstairs. After that we can head to my old stompin’ grounds and take some pictures.”

           “Th-that sounds good,” you assured him, cautiously walking over to your suitcase. “Is it ok if I take a shower first?”

           “Of course it is. You want me to get out of your hair, leave you with the room to yourself? You can just come downstairs and meet me in the dining hall when you’re all set.”

           “Oh.” You blinked in surprise. “Um, yeah, that would be great.”

           Steve gave you another warm little smile, setting his hand on your shoulder as he walked past you.

           “I’ll be waiting for you.”

           You watched him leave, waiting to hear the door click completely shut before grabbing everything you needed from your suitcase and heading back into the bathroom. You took your time in the shower, wondering what exactly you should do about all of this. You couldn’t spend an entire week with Steve, not if he continued acting so…weird around you.

           As you applied your makeup and dried your hair, you reasoned that, yes, Steve definitely had…some kind of feelings for you. Maybe it was a crush; maybe it was something more. Or maybe he just wanted to get in your pants. Either way, you had to tell him that his feelings weren’t returned, that you wanted to end the trip early. He could find another intern to finish out the week.

           For now, you decided, you would do what he wanted for today; you would go with him to his old house and take notes; you would go to Coney Island with him. But as soon as he mentioned going back to the hotel, you would lay it all out for him and get an Uber back to your apartment.

           Feeling determined, you grabbed your purse and headed down to the ground floor, almost getting lost in the vast hotel several times before you were able to locate the dining hall. Upon entering the large room, you saw Steve sitting at a table, tapping away at his phone with an already-empty plate. When he looked up at saw you, though, he hurriedly shoved the phone into his pocket and gave you a smile.

           “You look great,” he said as you passed him on the way to the buffet.

           All you could manage was a weak smile for him as you went about assembling a plate for yourself, even though you really didn’t have an appetite. You settled on some fruit salad and a muffin, grabbing a cup of orange juice as you went back to the table.

           “That’s all you’re gonna eat?” Steve asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. You put on a false smile and nodded as you picked at your food.

           “I’m not really hungry this morning.”

           He didn’t offer any protest as you ate, and as soon as you were done he ushered you out into the parking garage. The car ride to his old home was mostly silent, leaving you to watch the streets of Brooklyn go by.

           “This town has really changed,” Steve eventually sighed. “It’s always weird coming back here.”

           You were quiet for a few moments, thinking about what to say. He’d sounded strangely…sad.

           “You don’t think it’s changed for the best?” you finally spoke.

           “Well… I dunno. Yes and no, I think. Because modern technology is great; there’s no disputing the accomplishments we’ve made with it. But this city used to be…smaller. And not just in size; it used to be that each street had its own flavor, its own feel to it. Now, everything is so commercialized that it doesn’t even seem real anymore.”

           “…I’m sorry, Steve,” you muttered, feeling genuine sympathy for him despite how he’d made you feel. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through.”

           Steve nodded, parallel parking the car onto the side of the road.

           “I wouldn’t want you to, doll. The things I’ve seen sure can change a person.”

           With that, he hopped out of the car, jogging around to open your door for you. As you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you saw a three-story brick building right in front of you. The first floor was dedicated to a Chinese restaurant and, beside it, a used bookstore, but it appeared that the top two floors were used for housing.

           “That window,” Steve said, leaning closer to point it out to you, “used to be in my bedroom. And the downstairs was a clothing store back then. My mom was a tailor there when I was little, before she became a nurse.”

           He led you around the building into an alleyway, a melancholy smile on his face. The alley was not unlike any other you’d seen; trash was strewn about and trashcans were lined up against the far wall. You heard music drifting out of an open window somewhere above you, though, and some of the windows had flower boxes with overflowing ivy inside of them. Steve paused at the foot of an old stairway made of iron, resting one of his feet on the bottom step and rubbing his hand up and down its rail.

           “I used to climb these stairs every day,” he said wistfully. “And me and Bucky would play in the alleyway; I could always beat him at jacks.”

           You gave him a small smile, walking closer to him.

           “Can I borrow your phone?” you asked. “For the pictures.”

           “Oh, right.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a StarkPhone, handing it to you. He made to walk away from the steps, but you held one of your hands out.

           “No, stay there,” you instructed. “Look up at your old apartment, and uh…act natural.”

           He chuckled, moving back to his position next to the stairwell.

           “Whatever you say, Miss Photographer.”

           You snapped a few photos from different angles, liking especially one where he had his back to the camera, his profile visible as he looked up at his old front door. You quickly set a black-and-white filter over it before handing him back the device.

           “I think those all look good,” you said. “Tell me what you think.”

           Steve flipped through the photos, lingering on the one you’d made black and white.

           “These are great,” he praised you. “But they’d look much better with you in them with me.”

           He gave you a wink as he tucked the phone back into his pocket, gesturing for you to follow him back to the car before you had the chance to say anything more.

           “C’mon, it’s been decades since I’ve gone to Coney Island. I wanna see how different it is these days.”

           The rest of the day was strangely…pleasant, in spite of being with a man you knew to have some kind of strange fascination with you. Going to Coney Island with Steve kind of made you feel like a kid again. He wouldn’t go on any of the rides, but he did play some of the carnival games with you. It was his idea.

           “C’mon, we can’t come here and not have at least a little bit of fun,” he’d cajoled. You’d given in, following him to the ring toss stall.

           After that, you began to loosen up a little bit. The games were fun, despite how rigged they clearly were. Steve, though, was unsurprisingly amazing at them; he’d even broken the Strong Man game. When he’d brought the hammer down onto the button, not only did the bell ring, but it cracked in half. He’d grinned and picked a huge teddy bear off of the rack, handing it to you proudly, and you hadn’t been able to do anything but laugh and accept it with a smile.

           After stopping to get a hot dog (or three hot dogs for Steve), you’d piled back into his car, barely able to fit the bear into the backseat. On the ride to Central Park, you skimmed through Steve’s phone, picking out your favorite of the photos you’d taken at the amusement park. You laughed and showed him the one you’d taken just after he broke the game; in the picture his eyes were wide as he looked back at you sheepishly.

           When you got to the park and managed to find a parking space close by, you sensed a distinct shift in Steve’s mood. As you got out and let him guide you to the spot in the park he used to visit as a child, you felt his eyes on you constantly, and your small talk puttered out into dead silence. You felt the back of your neck prickle with discomfort as you noticed the path you were walking on becoming less and less crowded, leaving you alone with the super soldier.

           You had the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

           Eventually, the two of you came to a shady part of the path where the tree branches hung low, shielding the asphalt underfoot from sunlight. There was a small, old-looking bridge in front of you, and Steve paused when the two of you were standing overtop of it.

           “Why are we stopping?” you asked, turning to him. “Is this the place?”

           Steve didn’t answer, looking down at his hands where they rested against the bridge. You felt that familiar sense of anxiety rising up inside of you, and you fidgeted as you watched him carefully.

           “You know, I’ve thought about this moment for a while, now,” he finally said, “But hell, I’m still nervous.” He gave you a sheepish smile, but it did nothing to make you feel better. “I guess you just have that effect on me.”

           You gulped, clenching your fists at your sides.

           “Steve, what…what are you talking about?”

           “I think you know, doll.” He stepped closer to you, his chest almost touching yours. “I think you’ve known for a while.

           “You must know that I’m crazy about you by now.”

           You looked down, not able to meet his eyes, but his hand went under your chin and guided your face back up towards him.

           “Hey, look at me, baby. I-“

           “No, please don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Steve, we can’t-“

           “I love you.”

           Your heart sank upon hearing those words, and despite how he’d treated you up to this point, it broke your heart to see how hopeful his expression was.

           “Steve, I…” You paused, and he eagerly nodded, hoping to hear something you knew you couldn’t say. “We can’t do this. You’re my teacher, and I’m your student. We could both get in huge trouble.”

           You watched the hopeful glimmer in his eyes fade away, replaced with disappointment as his face fell.

           “But…what if you weren’t my student?” he suddenly asked.

           You scrunched up your eyebrows questioningly.

           “What do you mean?”

           “(Y/N), you don’t have to go to school anymore,” he told you in a pleading voice. “I…I could take care of you. You could do your writing from home, and I could provide for us and our family. I know that you have your own plans, but now you don’t have to-“

           “Our family? Steve, I’m so… I’m confused. You expect me to just quit everything and, what? Be your housewife?”

           Steve frowned at your tone, setting a hand on your shoulder. You tried to move it away from him, but his grip was like iron.

           “Doll, I know that this is sudden, but I also know that I can make you happy. And you can’t deny that you have the same feelings that I do. I can hear your heart pounding as we speak-“

           “That’s because I’m afraid, Steve! I hardly even know you, and the only feelings you’ve given me so far have been fear and discomfort. You can’t just fucking decide that-“

           His grip on you tightened, causing you to let out a yelp of pain.

           “Watch your language, baby,” he warned you, voice hard as steel. “I won’t have you speaking to me that way. Not after everything I’ve done for you.”

           “What you’ve done for me?! You haven’t-“

           “I changed my whole life for you,” he spat, his face getting closer and closer to yours. “I moved across town into a shitty matchbox apartment just to be closer to you. I got you into my class so we could properly meet one another. I’ve given you my heart, (Y/N), and I’m ready to give you the life you’ve always wanted!”            Your head spun with his revelation of just how crazy he was. You wanted to scream in his face; you wanted to tell him just how insane he was. But you knew that wasn’t the smart thing to do in this situation, and if you wanted to make it out of this, you would have to be smart. He was stronger than you, and you were alone with no one else in sight; you couldn’t fight your way out of this.

           “S-Steve,” you whispered, forcing yourself to look into his eyes. “Steve, please. I’m sorry for being so…rude. Just… Can we talk about this? Maybe at the hotel? All of this is so sudden, just like you said. I need to think it through.” You silently willed him to believe what you were saying; if you could just make it back to the street you could try and find help.

           He seemed to turn over your words, hesitating before finally loosening his grip on you.

           “…Okay, doll,” he nodded, taking a step back. “We can talk about this. But you’d better watch the tone you take with me. Now let’s-“

           He was cut off by the sound of a ringtone emanating from his back pocket – more specifically, your ringtone. You both froze for a long moment before Steve slowly reached for it, and your blood ran cold when you saw its familiar phone case. It wasn’t the StarkPhone you’d been borrowing from your teacher all day; no, that was your phone. The one that you hadn’t been able to find yesterday.

           And Steve had it.

           “…I’m sorry about that,” he sighed, crushing the device in his palm as if it were made of paper mache. “I know that this looks bad… I was gonna give it back to you after our week together.”

           All of your reason went out the window, and on shaky legs you turned and did the only thing your brain could think about in that moment.

           You ran.

           You could hear Steve’s footfalls behind you, moving impossibly fast, and you let out a scream, making your voice as loud as possible and willing your legs to move faster. Within seconds though, his vice-like arms were around you, one of his massive palms pressing against your mouth and muffling your cries.

           “Cut it out right now,” he demanded. “You know you can’t win this fight.”

           You didn’t faulter in your frenzied movements, though, still kicking your legs blindly. It was only until you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat that you went still, your vision slowly going black at the corners as it became harder to breathe.

           You were still trying to scream, though, begging anyone who could possibly hear you for help even as your voice became thin and strained. All too soon, though, you felt something hard hit you in the back of the head, and you felt yourself sinking into unconsciousness.

           “Shh, it’s ok,” you thought you heard Steve say. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

           And then everything went black.

________

           The first thing you became aware of as you woke up was how sore you felt. Your head was pounding, your mouth was dry, and your arms were cramping. With a low moan, you tried to move them, but something around your wrists was stopping you.

           “Shhh, doll, you’re ok. I’m so glad you’re waking up.”

           Slowly, your eyes opened and you found yourself face to face with Steve. Sucking in a deep breath, you turned and saw your wrists tied to a bedframe with a thin but strong length of rope. Judging by the rope burn on your skin and the soreness in your muscles, you’d been tied up in that position for a while.

           “I was so afraid I’d hit you too hard,” Steve was going on, perched right next to your hip on the mattress. “I’m sorry that I had to do that, but to be fair, you weren’t leaving me much of a choice.”

           Your eyes widened as you took in the room you were trapped in. The walls and floor were made out of concrete, and there were no windows in sight. There were, however, bookshelves lining an entire wall to your left, and there was a brown leather couch and two matching armchairs placed in front of them. A staircase sat in the corner to your right, and there were two visible doors in the room – one right in front of you and one to the right.

           “Doll? You okay there? Your heart is beating faster than a steam engine.”

           You turned back to face Steve so quickly that your head spun with the movement.

           “S-Steve?” Your voice was brittle, and you just then realized how much your throat hurt.

           “Oh, here, hon. Sip some water; it should help your throat feel better.” Steve stood up and retrieved a glass of water from the nightstand before once more taking his place beside you and holding it to your lips. You tried to lift your head up off the pillow as much as possible, but some of it still dribbled down your chin.

           After you’d drank your fill, Steve put the glass back on the table and leaned over you, letting one of his hands rest on your hip while the other one wiped away the water you’d spilled.

           “There you go. That feel any better?”

           You warily nodded, completely unsettled by the pleasant little smile he was wearing on his face.

           “Steve,” you tried once again. “Where am I?”

           “Don’t worry about that,” he said, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb while his other hand drew lazy circles against your hip. “You’re safe.”

           You struggled once more against your ties, but all you accomplished was aggravating your already raw skin. Steve sighed and pulled away, standing up and putting his hands on his hips.

           “Doll, I’ve already warned you about your attitude,” he chided. “If you calm down, I’ll untie you, but first you’ve gotta settle down and behave. Understood?”

           You felt tears spring to your eyes as you realized just how helpless you were in this situation, but you blinked them away as you nodded. You stopped struggling and lay still.

           “I-I understand.”

           “Good girl. Now, I’ll untie you, but if you try to run or do anything stupid, I won’t hesitate to tie you up again and leave you like that for the next week. Got it?” When you nodded your head, Steve tsked, shaking his head. “You need to do better than that. Say, ‘I promise not to run, Steve.’”

           “I-I promise not to run, Steve,” you recited, feeling a tear slide down your cheek.

           His face softened at that, and he leaned over you to wipe it away.

           “Don’t cry, baby. You’re safe here, remember? The last thing I wanna do is hurt you.”

           Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pocketknife, and you winced as he gripped the rope. With quick, deft movements, he severed both chords, and as soon as you were free you scrambled as far away from him on the bed as possible, rubbing the sore skin of your wrists while drawing your knees up to your chin. Steve sighed at your response, but all he did was sit down on the bed again.

           “Now, you said you wanted to talk earlier, right? So let’s talk. But this time, watch your tone; you’re already due for a punishment for how you spoke to me earlier.”

           You felt yourself blanch at his tone, hugging your knees tighter as you watched him; you didn’t want to talk. You didn’t even know what to say, other than to voice the one question echoing in your mind.

           “…Why?” you finally asked. “Why are you doing this?”

           “Because I love you, doll,” was his immediate response. “I know that you’re confused. I know that you’re scared, and I can understand that. Love is…scary; it’s terrifying. But I know that if you just give me a chance, you’ll see how happy we can be together.”

           You shook your head, trying to trample down the anger you felt welling up inside you; yelling at him would get you nowhere.

           “Steve…this isn’t the way to go about this,” you carefully said. “I don’t want a relationship right now. And it’s not about you; I don’t want a relationship with anybody until I’m done with college. Please, just…let me go, and I promise I won’t tell anyone, ok? We can even go on a proper date after I graduate if you still want to. Just please, please, let me go. You don’t want to do this.”

           Steve’s lips stretched into a humorless smile, and he let out a cold chuckle.

           “I don’t want this, huh? What do you know about what I want? As a matter of fact, what has anyone ever known about what I want? Or what’s more, when have they cared?

           “I never wanted to be this,” he growled, gesturing down at his body. “I didn’t want to be some super soldier; I just wanted to serve my country. I never wanted to wake up in a century I didn’t belong in. I didn’t want to fight against an alien army; I didn’t want to watch half of my friends turn to dust; I didn’t want to see the first woman I ever loved slowly die of an old age I never got to reach.

           “But I did it. I did all of that, and now? I’m tired of doing shit I don’t wanna do just because it’s what’s right. Just this once, I want something for myself. Someone for myself. I want to be happy. And baby, right now, you’re what I need to be happy.

           “I’ve given everything away, and now I’m going to collect on what I’ve rightfully fucking earned.”

           The entire time he was talking, his gaze had gone darker and darker as his voice rose, and now he stood up, marching to the side of the bed you were resting on and pulling you up with both hands wrapped around your biceps. You felt yourself being lifted completely into the air, but before you could push him away, he was kissing you.

           His lips were unforgiving as they moved against yours, his tongue shoving itself inside of your mouth ungracefully. You whimpered, pressing your hands against his chest and wriggling your body in his grip. He made no signs of budging, though, only tightening his grip on you.

           Desperate to separate yourself from him, you bit down on his tongue, feeling yourself being suddenly dropped to the hard floor as Steve let out a howl. You thought you saw blood trickle down from his lips as you staggered to your feet, but you tore your eyes away from him and quickly started rushing to the stairs. Taking two steps at a time, you climbed them until you reached the steel door at their top.

           With shaky hands, you turned its handle, but it didn’t move so much as an inch. Feeling your heart plummet to your toes, you uselessly flung yourself against it, vaguely aware of your own screaming.

           Letting out a sob, you pressed your back against the cold steel, looking down to see Steve wiping a small trail of blood off of his chin. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and in spite of his obvious pain, there was a smirk on his lips. There was no mistaking the anger in his eyes, though.

           “Get your ass,” he growled, drawing himself to his full height, “down those fucking stairs.”

           Your entire body was trembling as you realized how helpless you were.

           “NOW,” Steve suddenly shouted, and you jolted at the sound.

           Moving as if in a daze, you descended the stairs, a cold numbness spreading throughout your body as you realized you were well and truly trapped. When you stood in front of Steve once again, you felt his hand grip your chin harshly, yanking your face closer to his.

           “That,” he growled, “was a stupid thing to do.”

           He suddenly spun you around and pushed you, and you let out a shriek as you landed on the mattress. He didn’t give your body a chance to stop bouncing before he was on you, tearing at your shirt until you felt the material rip.

           “I tried to do this the right way,” he was muttering, almost to himself. “I waited for months. I watched you; I was nice to you. I had an entire evening planned for you after the park if you’d have just said yes.”

           You cried out as he yanked your pants down your legs, and you blindly kicked at him as you sobbed. With harsh, jerky movements, he pushed them apart and settled his hips over yours, settling his weight over you until you were pinned.

           “I was gonna be gentle with you,” he continued on, running his hands over your body, squeezing your breasts so hard through your bra that you yelped. “I was going to make your first time so special, baby. But then you had to go and fuck it all up.”

           Your body froze for a second, a wave of terror crashing over you at his implications. Steve used your pause as an opportunity to push his jeans down, taking his underwear with them. You tried your best not to look down at his body as he took his shirt off, but you’d still caught a glance at what lay in store for you.

           His cock was enormous, bigger than any you’d seen in any porn, and you squeezed your legs together at the thought of it inside your body. It wouldn’t fit; there was no way.

           “Please, Steve,” you were babbling, once more trying to push him away. “Please, it’s gonna hurt so bad; please, I don’t want this to be my first time. Steve, I-“

           His hand descended down over your mouth, gritting his teeth as his other hand tore off your bra.

           “I hope it does hurt, doll,” he growled. “I hope you can’t walk straight for a week. I hope that every time you even think of running away from me again, every time you so much as move your legs, you feel me fucking into your tight, virgin pussy and remember who you belong to.”

           Suddenly you were being flipped over onto your stomach, and you gripped the sheets as you felt your panties being torn off. This was it, you thought, and you braced yourself as best you could.

           But when your legs weren’t pulled apart, when you didn’t feel his hands against you for a second, your eyes opened once more. You turned your head to look over your shoulder, only to see Steve’s hand  as it slapped your ass so hard you swore you saw stars.

           You buried your face in the blankets beneath you as he spanked you over and over again, sobbing as the pain radiated throughout your entire body. Every time you tried to crawl away from him, his hands would wrap around your hips and pull you right back to where he wanted your body.

           “Nuh-uh, baby,” he growled. “You need to take your God. Damn. Punishment.”

           Each word was punctuated with a spank, and you did nothing to stop your screams as you lost count somewhere around 15. You’d had no idea how strong he was before this; you’d thought you’d sensed it when he held you in his arms last night; you’d thought you’d seen it in his bulging muscles. But it was only now, as he was using his strength to hurt you, that you fully understood it.

           By the time he stopped, you were laying limp on your stomach, crying into the sheets and trying to think of something, anything other than the pain. But when you felt yourself being maneuvered up onto your knees, you felt your panic only increase.

           He gave you no warning before he shoved his cock inside of you, but even if he had said anything, you doubt you would have heard it over your own scream. Your walls were roughly stretched as he entered you, inch by aching inch. Your chest shook with your sobs as they mingled with his moan of pleasure. A part of you wondered how he could be feeling so good while you were in such pain, but all thought left you when he started moving his hips.

           You’d always known that your first time would be at least a little painful, but nothing could have prepared you for this. The pain seemed to radiate throughout your entire body, and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to struggle as his thrusts grew more regular in their rhythm.

           “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hands squeezing your hips. “I knew you would feel good, knew this pussy would be so good to me-“

           He cut himself off with another moan, shifting his hips so he could fuck deeper into you. You had your eyes squeezed shut the entire time, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you willed the pain to go away. You tried to relax against him; you even tried to enjoy it, just to ease the pain. You were desperate for it to go away, and your cries only increased when Steve started to move faster.

           Whether it was out of pity or just his own sick amusement, he slowed in his rhythm just a bit, snapping his hips almost lazily as one of his hands trailed down your back.

           “Oh, I’m sorry baby,” he breathed, dragging his cock up and down your walls, hitting a spot inside of you that made your eyes fly wide open. “I forgot that you like it nice and slow at first, right?”

           You whined at his words; the pain was still present, but with him hitting against that spot that made colors dance behind your vision, pleasure was starting to build alongside it. You were somewhat aware that you were babbling, but you couldn’t even make out your own words as he hit that spot repeatedly.

           “I used to watch you, you know,” he grunted, reaching around your body to run his finger over your clit. You jolted at the sensation, inadvertently clenching around him. “I would watch you use that little pink toy you kept in your bedside table. I – fuck - memorized how you made yourself cum, knowing I could make you feel so much better than that tiny piece of plastic ever could.”

           As he started thrusting faster once more, his fingers sped up with him, rubbing up and down against your clit until your sobs slowly started transforming into moans.

           “See, doll? I fucking knew you would love this,” he said. “Knew you would see how you were made to be mine. I’ll fucking make you see.”

           Your eyes rolled as you felt yourself moving closer and closer to the edge, and from the shouts and half-grunted words of praise spilling from Steve’s lips, he was getting close, too. His hips were moving at a brutal pace, but you were starting to crave it even through the dull haze of pain. He was filling you up so well, hitting every corner and ridge inside of your pussy so perfectly, so completely; you did nothing to stop your moans from falling out of your lips, all of your fear and agony fading away until there was nothing but Steve and the pleasure he was bringing you.

           “Steve-!” you cried out, your hips moving against his of their own accord. “P-please-“ You weren’t sure if you were begging for him to stop or begging him not to, but as you reached the edge of your climax, you found that you didn’t care.

           “I know, baby,” he growled, “I know. I-I… Fuck!”

           Suddenly, his fingers were gone from your clit, and you let out a whine as your orgasm eluded you, slipping away right through your fingers. You felt something warm flood your pussy, though, and you looked over your shoulder to see Steve’s mouth open in a silent scream, pure bliss written across his features as he came inside of your abused pussy.

           Your eyes were wide open, silently pleading with him as you squirmed beneath his body, but when he opened his eyes and saw your sad, needy face, all he did was grin.

           “I knew you would be perfect, baby,” he panted, slowly pulling his cock out of you with a wince. You ignored the sensation of his cum leaking out of your body, trying to catch your breath between the sobs that were starting to return.

           “W-why…” you started to ask, but he just leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

           “Be a good girl for me next time, and I’ll let you cum.”

           You melted against the mattress and watched him dress with unseeing eyes, the pleasant feelings in your cunt starting to fade while slowly being replaced by a dull, throbbing ache that brought fresh tears to your eyes.

           “Now, I’m going to go out and get a few things from the store,” Steve spoke, his voice steady and neutral despite what he’d just done to you. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I want you to think about what you’ve done and have a nice apology waiting for me when I come home, okay?”

           When you didn’t respond, he turned to you and raised one threatening eyebrow, not looking away until you’d given him a shaky nod.

           “Good girl. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

           After pulling his shoes on, he started climbing the stairs, pausing at the top to look back down at you with a deceptively warm, soft smile.

           “I love you, doll.”

           And with that, he left, leaving you with his cum cooling on your thighs.

[mysingularitybts]

Glances a Jung Hoseok One-Shot

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x famous!reader

Genre: romance

Warnings: smut

Part 1

Part 2 

As soon as I got home I let out a deep sigh. What had just happened? How can a person affect me this way? I have dated in the past and none have ever made me feel this flustered and out of control.

I decided to go to bed since it was late and tomorrow I had to go to the studio, yet when I closed my eyes instead of darkness greeting me it was his sharp eyes staring deeply at me. It was the smirk he threw me all night and it was the heat I felt when we came into contact.

I couldn't keep this to myself or I would drive myself crazy. So, I did the only reasonable thing... I called Nari, my best friend. The phone rang many times and just as I was about to give up hope Nari's groggy voice greeted me.

"What Y/n?" she grumbled into the phone.

"Something happened and I don't know what to do about it," I answered desperately

"Are you okay? Where are you?" she worriedly asked.

"Yes, I'm okay. Well, kinda. I'm home" I huffed into the phone.

"Y/n, you are worrying me," she told me. I felt her bedsheets ruffle as she got up.

"I met BTS," I let out as if it was the most tragic thing ever.

"Really?! That's great!" she exclaimed, ignoring my tone.

"I'm not finished,"

"What... don't tell me you hooked up with one of them?! Who was it?" she then again yelled into the phone.

"None of that," I answered, rubbing my tired eyes out of frustration.

"Damn it y/n just tell me already!" Nari fumed.

That's how I spent almost an hour recalling what happened in the past 12 hours. As I told the story Nari would release oh's and ah's. I think she thought for a second my life was a drama.

"So, what do you think?" I asked hoping to get some advice out of my best friend.

"Holy shit that was intense," she exclaimed. I just hummed at her reaction.

"I can't get him out of my head," I whined, throwing myself face down on the bed.

"Sadly I can't help you that much. The only thing you can do is wait for him to ask you on that date which I guess should be soon," she tried reasoning with me.

"How do you know?"

"He will want to go out with you before he leaves LA, duh," she explained simply.

"You're right, you are so smart," I said as she let out a noise agreeing, "I'll try to sleep now, goodnight!"

"Night!"

I tried to sleep once more, but this time I was so exhausted physically and emotionally that I fell asleep in a few moments not allowing the rapper's actions to haunt me.

The next day I felt a lot better and had a better grip on my emotions. I went to the studio and had some recording done. I also got some writing done having found some inspiration on the dark-haired man.

At around noon I went out for lunch with Carly. Stepping into the studio a huge flower arrangement greeted me. It was very colorful making me suspect who it was from. Carly just looked at me with a raised eyebrow waiting for an explanation.

I ignored her as I searched for a card to confirm my suspicion. I found it between the many flowers I quickly took and read through it a smile forming on my face.

'Sweetheart,

Would you do me the honors of having dinner with me at 8?'

-Hoseok

Xxx-xxx-xxxx'

Not wasting a single minute I searched for my phone and typed a simple message

'Yes ❤️ - y/n'

He answered very rapidly with a message of his own.

'I'm so happy to hear that sweetheart. I'll pick you up."

I made sure to send him my address when a chuckle behind me startled me.

"Huh?" I dumbly said.

"Who's got you blushing?" Carly asked accusatorily at me.

"Nooo oneeee," I said innocently.

"Is it one of BTS?" she asked knowingly.

"How did you know?" I asked, baffled at her guess.

"Nobody else caught your attention yesterday, honey," she explained.

"Yeah, it's J-hope," I answered, playing with my fingers hoping she wouldn't scold me.

"Okay, just be careful, okay?" She said with a supporting smile, "I'm not saying they're bad, but they are very busy guys and you also have your career to be worried about."

"...I know I'm just hoping for the best,"

"Let me know where you'll be so I can give a fake lead to the paparazzi. I don't want them bothering you today and spreading fake rumors,"

"THANK YOU SO MUCH CARLY I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH," I squealed in her ear as I gave her a huge hug.

This is why I loved Carly. She always gave me the freedom to explore. Even if it came with a hundred warnings. I knew it was because she cared about me.

Going back to work I tried to rush through it so I could go home earlier. Seeing my rush Carly just told me to leave and go enjoy my date. I didn't question as I picked up my stuff and almost ran out the door.

Once home I had a bath and made sure to exfoliate my skin so it was silky smooth. Having some extra time I put on a face mask so my skin was also on point. I was going the extra mile to impress Hoseok.

At around 5 I began doing my hair and makeup. I opted for straightening my hair making it look shiny and long, I took the two front strands and tucked them behind my ears. For the makeup, I did a soft, neutral, glam look with a red lip. Then the hard part came...choosing what to wear.

I remembered he mentioned we were going to a restaurant so I began searching for a dress.

I picked a black silky dress. It reached my mid-thigh, had an open back, and only showed a bit of cleavage in front. Looking at myself in the mirror I looked hot!

At exactly 8 PM my doorbell rang. I went down and opened the door to see a very handsome looking Hoseok in a black suit and a white button-up. The first few buttons of it undone.

"Hey," Hoseok greeted me as I opened the door.

"Hi," I shyly said, noticing how his eyes took in what I was wearing.

"You look stunning," he complimented not missing to shoot me a grin. l

"Thank you," I said, not knowing how to proceed my nerves taking the best of me.

"Ready to go?" He asked, offering me his ringed hand.

"Definitely," I answered, placing my palm in his embracing the warmth he emitted.

The first minute of the car ride was a bit awkward, but it quickly dissipated as we began talking about our day. Once we got to the restaurant we had a full conversation going.

He brought me to a very notorious restaurant in LA. It was known in the industry as the restaurant to go if you wanted a bit of privacy since it had many entrances and even though it had lots of windows you could see inside without actually being inside.

Tonight there were no paparazzi outside, thanks to Carly I believe, so we used the main entrance. Once inside the waiter quickly led us to a table and gave us the menu. After taking our order our conversation resumed.

"Nari and I used to get into so much trouble and we didn't even do anything horrible. We would always just prank her brother," I laughed remembering the old days, "He used to be a cry baby and that's what got us in trouble."

"Poor boy with two crazy girls torturing him," Hoseok teased chuckling at my memory.

"We didn't torture him! It was like a competition we had to see who could make him cry first," I tried defending myself but realized Nari and I were a bit cruel to six-year-old Youngjin.

"I remember when we were still trainees we did something similar with Jungkook," Hoseok said trying to recall the memory, "Sometimes he'd be upset and we'd simply say 'You're going to cry?' and it was like a trigger."

"You see it's fun!" I exclaimed giggling.

Somehow as the night went on his hand found mine at the table. He held it delicately, his hands were soft and warm, his rings in contrast were freezing.

"How is your album going?" He curiously asked, changing the subject.

"It's getting there... There are still a few songs missing and I'm working with some other ones to make them better. Hopefully, by next year it will be released," I uncertainly said, "This album is a bit more complicated since I'm trying to explore a new sound," I explained.

He just nodded his head letting me talk. I loved that he would just listen to what I had to say now and then adding to it or giving me his advice. We had a good conversation and I got to know him on a more personal level. He was a bright guy always looking for the positives whose smile made you smile. He was so supportive too and whenever he talked about his work you could sense the passion going out of his pores.

The night went in a blur and dessert soon came. He took me by surprise as he fed me some of it and then cleaned my bottom lip with his thumb as some chocolate was left behind. It was both sexy and sweet.

When we finished eating we went up to a little terrace in the building where you could see the view of LA and all of its twinkling lights. We stood there looking out at the view, it was peaceful.

I heard him clear his throat and call my name, "Y/n?"

"Yes?" I asked turning to look at him.

He looked nervous standing there playing with the rings on his finger. He looked hesitant so I extended my hand to hold his and reassure him.

"I am so glad you agreed to the date," he began saying his eyes on the floor, "When I met you I didn't expect to feel such a great connection to you."

"I'm glad I wasn't the only one that felt it," I told him softly.

Feeling more confident he raised his eyes to mine, "Even though we haven't known each other for a long time I find myself caring about you a lot and I can't seem to get you outta my head. I would really like to keep seeing you and I know it might not be so easy with me being on tour and you with your work, but I would really like to try..."

I stood there shocked. I hadn't expected him to reveal his feelings so rapidly, but I also understood why he did it. If he didn't do it now then when? Our lives are so hectic you don't know when the next time you'll see a person will be, so, you need to hold tight to them.

"If you don't want to, I'll respect that, but please think about it," he finished saying at my lack of response.

He gave me a defeated look as I didn't respond immediately or even after a few seconds. I was trying to organize my thoughts, if there was one thing I was sure of it was that I didn't want to let him go.

"I don't have to think about it," I said, squeezing his hand, "I would love to keep seeing you. After all, you've made me feel things I never thought I could feel."

At my confession, Hoseok's eyes regain that spark that was unique to him.

With his confidence returning he asked, "Does that mean you would like to give this a try and be my girlfriend?"

"I would love too," I excitedly giggled.

Facing him, I briefly looked down at our hands. His thumb lightly brushed against my skin and I smiled as he pulled me closer to him. My eyes met his but not for long as I glanced at his lips once I saw him do the same. He let go of my hands and gently moved them to my waist as I placed mine on his arms. He got closer to me until his lips met mine in the sweetest of kisses. I could tell how nervous he was and I was too, yet I also felt overwhelming joy at the same time. His lips were warm and inviting with a hint of chocolate from our previous dessert. We fit together, not just emotionally, but physically as if we were two puzzle pieces that lost each other long ago and finally found each other. I felt his grasp on my waist tighten slightly as my hands moved to his chest. His heartbeat was erratic and I smiled into the kiss knowing I had the same effect on his as he did on me.

We pulled apart, I opened my eyes to see him gazing at me. An unidentifiable feeling filled my heart as we went back in for another kiss not having quite enough. While the first kiss was sweet and tender this one was full of fiery passion. Our lips moved more feverishly desperate to feel each other, he pulled me even closer having me flush against him. The heat rose as I felt his tongue ask for entrance and without hesitation, I parted my lips. My hands then traveled to the back of his neck where they tangled themselves in his hair. We stood there for what felt like a small eternity, but eventually, we had to pull away as our lungs started burning, begging for air.

With smiles on our faces, we turned back to the LA scenery. Hoseok wrapped his arm around me and I leaned my head on his shoulder. After a few moments of peaceful silence, I asked, "What now? What else do you have planned?"

He looked at me with wide eyes, "I don't have anything else planned," he laughed, "I was too worried thinking you might reject me to plan something else."

"As if! I would never," I said in a defensive tone.

After thinking for a second I gave an idea, " We can go to my place... I have a bottle of wine waiting for us," I told him as I looked up at him, "That is if you want."

He looked down at me and with a kiss to my forehead he said, "Let's go."

He intertwined our hands and led me back to the car and as the gentleman, he is he opened the door for me. As Hoseok drove I couldn't help but observe him, there was something about how he gripped the steering wheel and how his eyes focused on the road that made him look so attractive.

Being so deep in thought he took me by surprise as he said, "You know it's rude to stare," he briefly glanced at my blushing face and finished by saying, "But since it's you I'll let it pass."

---------------------------------------------------------------STOP----------------------------------------------------

He placed his hand on my thigh warming it up with just a touch and as I grew accustomed to its presence he started to caress my thigh. Up and down. Up and down. Never touching where I wanted him to be making my core throb. It made the car ride unbearable and filled with tension. He knew what he was doing since when I turned to look at him he had a smirk on his lips.

I placed my hand on top of his to stop the teasing and gave him a knowing look.

He shamelessly laughed and said, "Sorry Sweetheart couldn't resist."

"All in due time Hobi be patient," I simply told him, squeezing his hand.

Once we got to my house I opened a bottle of wine and sat on the sofa beside him. It was as if he was a magnet and I was metal. We instantly attracted each other and came into contact not being able to be apart.

We had a nice conversation going about BTS's upcoming tour.

"So, wait, you just finished this tour and you have one scheduled for next year?" I asked surprised.

"It's for the new album that's dropping. Hopefully, we'll go to more places than this year," he responded excitedly while taking a drink of his wine glass.

"I don't know how you do it, I wouldn't be able to bear being away from home for so long," I admitted while watching the wine as it swirled in the glass.

"Remember I have the guys who are practically my family," he explained with a fond smile, "Besides we've worked so hard to get to where we are now we're scared it will all go away if we take a break."

To some extent, I understood his worry. In this industry one day, you could be on top and the next on the bottom. There was always a search for the next new talent, but there were also people who would do anything to be on top even if it meant playing dirty.

"I doubt it though you have the best fanbase in the world," I reassured him.

It was the truth ARMY was always consistent. They always tried to support BTS to the fullest even if they made mistakes.

"Is that so?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Of course I've been a proud ARMY since practically the beginning," I reminded him.

"So tell me who is your bias?" he asked, getting even closer cornering me in between the sofa and him.

"Hmm? I'm not sure..." I teased with a grin.

"Is that so? There must be somebody," at this point his nose was brushing against mine.

"W-w- well there is Namjoon but my heart's not set on it yet...there is time for it to change," I told him trying to gauge his reaction.

"Then let me convince you," With every syllable, he said he pulled me closer till the gap between us was no more and our lips touched in a searing kiss.

Our lips moved in unison as if we had practiced it a million times before. We separated for a split second placing the half-drunk glasses on the table, yet our lips crashed once again not wasting a single moment.

My hands found themselves around his neck playing with his dark tendrils. I pulled on them and the most beautiful sound came from his mouth, a deep and sinful moan. Wanting to hear it again I pulled again and my ears were blessed with the wicked sound.

His hands pulled me into his lap making me straddle him, as they then roamed my body leaving a fiery trail behind causing goosebumps to arise.

He started trailing kisses around my neck finding my sweet spot and sucking on it, making me moan and grind my hips over his groin which in turn led him to buck up against me.

My hands moved across his chest feeling his hard lean muscles contract. I couldn't get enough of it. I needed more of his burning skin. I had to feel the heat he emitted and the rapid beating of his heart.

I untucked his crisp white shirt while he marked my neck with purple flowers that I would surely regret tomorrow. He nipped my neck which made me leave scratch marks down his flawless chest.

He started kissing my lips again and dragged his hands to my back as he toyed with the zipper of my dress.

He pulled back and with dark and dilated eyes asked "Can I?"

Breathless I replied, "Yes."

We held eye contact as he torturously pulled the zipper down causing my dress to drop down to my waist leaving my chest exposed. My nipples hard due to arousal and the sudden temperature change. They weren't cold for long as Hoseok quickly took one into his mouth and covered the other with his palm.

All I could do was moan and whimper as he alternated between sucking the bud and rolling it with his tongue. He rolled the other between his fingers and occasionally pulled it making me whimper and say his name.

"H-Hoseok, ahh," I stuttered with pleasure while gripping his back.

"What was that sweetheart?" he asked while momentarily pulling back. His other hand lowering down to my butt and giving it a hard smack.

"Hoseok!" I screamed as pain and pleasure flooded my senses at the same time.

"Just like that," he darkly chuckled.

It was amazing to see how a person can change from a bright, sweet, and seemingly innocent to this sexy lust-filled man. Both beautiful and dangerous simultaneously.

Hoseok picked me up as I locked my legs around his waist trying not to fall and made me direct him to my room. Once in the room, that was thankfully clean, he dropped me on the edge of the bed and finished pulling off my dress. I was almost bare with only the thin layer of lace covering my nether regions.

I sat up to finish unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off in a swift motion. His chest was an amazing sight to behold. It reflected the hours of training and practice he endured daily. I kissed down his chest and stomach, making sure to leave some marks of my own, but stopped at the hem of his pants.

I looked up at him to see him staring at me with hooded eyes and slightly parted lips. Staring into his eyes I took off his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and lowered the zipper slowly to torture him just as he did to me moments earlier.

Once his pants were off I began to palm him through his underwear not missing how his hips slightly thrust at the contact and he let out a sigh. Having tortured him enough I lowered his boxers letting his member spring up. It stood proudly with a vein going up its length. His head leaking pre-cum.

I began pumping him while swiping my thumb over the tip. Hoseok groaned as he tipped his head back. He then looked at me with a mixture of confusion and desperation as I stopped my movements, but understood as I brought him to my mouth. I started bobbing my head as I worked my way deeper until I had most of him in my mouth.

Hoseok's hands grazed my shoulders not being sure what to do with them. So, I took them and placed them on my head letting him take the lead. Taking that as permission he grabbed my hair and started guiding my movements. At some point I had him completely in my mouth, I felt as my nose touched his pelvis but before I could choke he pulled me back with a string of saliva connecting me to him.

Hoseok pulled me up and started kissing me his tongue tangling with mine. He placed me by the pillows on the bed kissing down to my neck, to my sternum, down to my stomach until I felt his breath in between my thighs. He did all this while I looked at him pleadingly. He made me suffer as he kissed around my thighs making me wince now and then as he bit down.

By this point, I was dripping and he knew it. He touched me through my underwear and felt how soaked I was. With a smirk, he rubbed up and down my slit not giving me what I wanted most.

I let out a huff of frustration and he took it as a queue to begin his work. He lowered my underwear and I felt as it got stuck to me due to my arousal. He gazed at me intently while he very slowly and gently pulled them down.

I whined, dropping my head back onto the mattress which made me not notice when he brought his fingers to my heat. I gave a mix of a squeal and a moan as he rubbed my clit in circular motions. I tried clamping my legs shut due to the sensation, but he placed himself between them not allowing me.

He wasn't doing much and I was already a moaning mess. He stuck a finger into me and he cussed at how tight I felt with only a finger in. I started gripping the bed sheets around me trying to hold onto something.

"Hoseok... p-p-lease more," I begged the feeling of his finger inside me not being enough.

"Whatever you want sweetheart," he complied by inserting another of his long fingers the tightness increasing as he kept going.

The rings on his fingers added to the pleasure as they brushed against me and soon enough I started to cum, my thighs started to tremble and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. My mouth open but not letting a sound out.

He brought me down off my high slowly, not stopping immediately. As I came back to my senses I could still feel the twitch of my thighs. I hadn't noticed that at some point my hands exchanged the sheets for Hoseok hair as I released my grip on it.

"That was beautiful," he praised.

I couldn't stop the blush that covered my face.

"Don't get shy now baby," he hummed in a low voice.

Hoseok crawled back up to me and looked at me in the eye, lots of emotions swirling in them. He brushed my hair off my face and at the sweet gesture I couldn't help but bring my hands up to his cheeks and pull him down to my lips. His mouth still tasted like me but I didn't mind. I pulled back slowly as I bit his lip and dragged it out till I released it. His eyes turned darker than before at the action.

"Don't play like that sweetheart," Hoseok growled in my ear.

I acted innocently saying "What do you mean?"

"You know what," he said as his thumb went over my lips.

"I need you Hoseok," I whispered. For a second I thought he didn't hear me until he spoke.

"Whatever you want you get sweetheart."

After what felt like an eternity I felt him sink into me and we both let out a moan in unison.

"Fuck you're so tight," he groaned shutting his eyes tightly.

"Just for you," I reassured, and as I said those words I saw a fire ignite in him as he started thrusting slowly and deeply.

"Faster baby," I whined.

He complied and started going faster, his hands laced through mine. He went deep inside me making me feel full and hitting all the right spots. The sight of him on top of me was otherworldly, the way he'd let out silent groans and how his eyes focused on every little reaction I gave.

Just as I was reaching my peak he stopped his movements. Pleadingly I looked at him. He took my hand pulling me up as he sat against the headboard and in his low voice said, "Ride me."

I could only say one thing, "With pleasure."

I straddled him and slowly sunk into him. He held my hips as I bounced on him, his hands occasionally roaming to my chest. He was truly a sight to behold as the sweat dropped from his neck and chest giving his skin a gleam. Plus, the way he'd try to hide his moans and groans. The moans caused by me.

"I'm not gonna last long sweetheart," he revealed with a grimace.

"Me either baby," I agreed as I felt the knot forming in my stomach.

He then started rubbing my clit with one hand while he pulled me to his lips with the other. Just like that the uncontrollable heat between us amplified to extreme measures as we reached our climax together. He muffled my moans as he kissed me. The long kisses slowly turned into pecks until we pulled away with our breaths heavy and our foreheads touching. The heat was there but it was faint having been satisfied for now. I got off of him suddenly feeling very empty.

We laid on my observing each other and recuperating from the past activity. Hoseok caressed my arm with his fingertips relaxing me even more. After getting my breathing under control I noticed he had an infectious smile on his lips which in turn made me smile back. Sunshine Hoseok was back.

"Was everything okay?" He asked slowly, making sure I was alright.

"It was perfect," I whispered, not wanting to break the serenity of the room.

"You were perfect," he responded, pulling me closer so I laid on his chest, the one I had marked in many ways.

"Oh, stop it," I said, the smile never leaving my lips. I hoped he wouldn't notice the blush appearing on my face.

"Know what?" his voice turned serious.

"What?" I was curious to see what he would say.

"The moment you walked up to us in the awards and gave me that sweet glance... I knew I felt something for you." He confessed sweetly as we laid there basking in each other's presence.

I didn't need to say anything since he knew I felt the same.

Cuddling more into his side he kissed my head. I thought about how the time to come would be hard because of our careers, but I paid it no mind. As long as I have Hoseok by my side I would go to hell and back.  

A/N: *cough cough* well that happened. It's my first time writing smut so bear with me. If you liked it let me know! If you didn't don't worry it won't happen too often. The way I wrote the first part really didn't leave much of a choice this was what was supposed to happen.  

So, if you guys enjoyed it please let me know and make sure to like and reblog to show your support.

I'm still shook.  Honestly.

PS. I'm sorry for grammatical mistakes but I really wanted to publish it. I'll probably go back later and fix them.

See you guys later ;) 💜 x

-Nikki Marie

[amazingdriverfics]

Making up

Hey, I missed some Sackler and thought of this, surprise surprise, instead of sleeping. It’s currently 2 am where I live and here I am. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 3.6k 

Warnings: lil bit of angst, language, smut, bisexual reader

Pairing: Adam Sackler x Reader

Summary: the last time you had seen him made you wish you would never do it again

Sitting in the chair next to the play director, you waited patiently as the actors one by one performed for their audition, it was boring, frustrating and you were almost throwing a chair at the stage. God, when did actors become so fucking terrible at their jobs? A deep voice took you from your thoughts back to what was happening right in front of you. 

“Uh, hello. I’m Adam Sackler and I’m here to try for the role of George”. No way, this was not happening, there was absolutely no way that after all these years you were going to have to deal with him again, not after how things ended. As soon as you gathered courage to look at the stage your fear was confirmed, your ex-best friend was standing right there, and just by seeing the start of his performance you knew he would be the one to star it next to you. Adam always was an excellent actor, he could make you feel every single emotion he wanted, his every movement, facial expression and voice tone in character. Even in college, Sackler was simply explendid in what he did and that was one of the things you used to admire more in him.

6 years ago 

In your room, already dressed, you hummed a pop melody you had been obsessed with while you finished your makeup. You intended to look the best you possibly could, that night was the night you had decided to finally talk to the girl you had been crushing hard for a couple of months. You met Angie in your part time job in the book shop in campus, she was a History major student who worked with you at mondays and thursdays, she always engaged in small talks with you and you did your absolute best not to gag while talking to the purple haired girl. One of the fraternities was throwing a party and you had invited her to come with you and your best friend slash roommate Adam Sackler. 

You had moved into his place as soon as you went to college, the rent was something you could definitely afford, you would live 5 minutes away from the campus and with another acting major. At first, you found Adam very strange, the 6’3” foot man would get out of his room shirtless to have a drink of milk in the middle of the night and usually acted like you were not there while doing it, he would also engage in very strange topics, he hated when you brought any of your friends home and had very loud sex. You started to like Sackler when he helped you studying for a test, that was the first time the two of you had a decent talk. Ever since, you were inseparable, every night you would sit on the couch and watch some sitcom while judging the script and acting skills of the actors, you always went to bed with your tummy hurting from how much you had laughed. At the time, you had even developed a crush in the man, but he never gave you any signs that he felt the same so you dropped it, happy to call him your best friend. 

“Are you ready? Your crush is here” Adam said bringing his head into your room and taking your mind off your thoughts about the man himself. “Oh my God, I’ll be there in a minute” you said applying one last coat of mascara. “Wait, Adam” you screamed making his head appear again. “What is it, kid?” his eyes met yours. “Do I look good?” you asked spinning around and showing all of you. “As usual, you are stunning. Now, let’s get going” the man stated leaving you again. 

Slowly, you made your way to the living room watching as your best friend talked to Angie, her mere presence already making you nervous. She was so so beautiful, her purple hair was in a messy bun, she was wearing a tight black dress which hugged her body perfectly and high heels to finish the look. “H-hi, Angie, you are very pretty to-tonight” you gagged, cursing yourself for making a fool of yourself. As an attempt to calm you down, Sackler brought his right hand to your lower back. “You look very good yourself, y/n” your crush replied making your face become instantly red. “T-thank you” you replied as the three of you made your way out of your home to the party, Adam leading the way. 

Getting to the party was easy, you three walked for about six minutes and you were already in the place, the sound blasting with dancy tunes, booze smell all around and a few couples making out in the grass in front of the house. The start was pretty fun, Sackler was the first to go solo - as usual - probably meeting some of his classmates or, more likely, already sucking someone’s lips out of their faces. You, on the other hand, was finally alone with Angie. After getting some drinks on the kitchen, the two of you made your way to the dancefloor, her body sensually touching yours as she danced against it, her head on your shoulder, it wasn’t long before your hands found her waist pressing her even more to you. The woman turned around and her black eyes met yours as she closed the distance between your faces sealing your lips with a deep hungry kiss. Unfortunately for you, after a while of heavy making out, Angie had to excuse herself to go to the bathroom. Her absence was starting to get too long making you nervous and worried that something might be happening.

It wasn’t long before you found her. 

Angie’s purple hair was what instantly made you recognize her, she was kissing someone else and it didn’t take you much to recognize that someone as well, his black hair, tall and broad figure dressed in white shirt and jeans were impossible to mistake, you just couldn’t believe that your best friend was kissing the girl you had been talking about ceaselessly in the past months, Adam Sackler was such a jerk. Before you could stop yourself, you poked his shoulder forcing his mouth to disconnect with Angie’s as his head turned around to face you. You didn’t give him a chance to say anything since as soon as his eyes met yours, your hand hit his face making a loud slap noise muffled by the song. Shortly after, you were out of the house making your way back home. 

That night ended even more terribly, the two of you had fought and said very mean things about each other, in the following day you were out there as you moved to a common dorm. Until this very moment you had never seen Sackler again. 

Fortunately, as soon as Adam finished the audition and the director said she would call him to tell if he got in, the man left the auditorium, causing you to, instantly, feel lighter knowing that you wouldn’t have to deal with him today. 

Oh boy, you were wrong. You only found out how wrong you were the minute you left the theatre when suddenly a hand pulled you from the direction you had been going. Your face stopped just a few inches before colliding with a defined chest that for you had just seen a couple of minutes ago. 

“What do you want, Sackler?” you asked, your tone showing your discomfort with the situation. “Hello for you too, kid. After all these years you are still mad at me?” the familiar voice you had listened to so much years ago filled your ears. “After all that bullshit you said to me? What do you think?” you gritted through your teeth getting angrier by the minute. “I was a dick to you, I know and believe it or not, I’m sorry. I have an explanation for what happened that night” he replied with a pout and giving you the same puppy eyes he used to give you when he wanted you to cook dinner. You laughed, “This is going to be good, but we are not doing this in the middle of the street, come” you said unable to resist his supplicating face. 

Stepping away from the man, you started to walk to your car parked just in front of the theater. Not hearing his heavy footsteps following, you turned to face him once again finding out that Sackler was still in the same damn spot you had left him in. “Are you coming?” you asked. As a reply you got an nervous nod from your ex-friend that quickly was getting in the car with you. The drive was filled with an awkward silence, neither of you knew what to say, things had ended badly and even though it had been a long time ago, losing your best friend because he couldn’t keep his tongue to himself still hurted a bit. Thankfully, the theater wasn’t far from your place, a three store building you had been living for two years, ever since you got the job in the acting company. There wasn’t a garage so you parked right outside not waiting for Adam as you made your way to the building’s front door, climbing its dark stairs while you looked for your keys in the mix of throwed things inside your purse. By the time you were finally able to open it, he was by your side switching his balance in between his legs. 

As soon as you entered your living room taking off your shoes and letting your purse by the dinning table, you turned to Sackler anxious for what he had to say. In the months which followed the big fight, you had wished to speak to him a lot, but your pride just wouldn’t allow it, you had missed him a lot too, but eventually you gave up and finally let yourself leave what had happened in the past, however, seeing him in front of you took you right back to those months where you foolishly hoped that he would come to beg you for forgiveness or that you would gather the courage to confront the man and solve things. 

“You can start whatever it is that you are planning to do” you said, doing your best to keep your emotions from showing in your face as you grabbed a cup of water trying to prepare yourself for what was coming your way. Adam swallowed dry before his voice met your ears. “Hm. Well, like I said before, I was a jerk to you and I know it and I also know that I probably should have looked for you earlier to say this” he started, his voice kinda shaky from the nervousness you could see in his body language. “You swear?” you mocked, a dry laugh following it. “I deserve this. See, kid, I read in a newspaper last week a review about your performance in the last play you theater company did and the minute your face showed up I was like ‘fuck this is the incredible girl I, yet again, pushed away being a total dick who can’t express his fucking feelings’. And I-i knew that I had to fix it, sure, maybe it is too late to, but I had to give it a try, I thought to myself.” he stopped looking into your eyes waiting for a reaction which caused you to nod interested in what Sackler had to say. “So I enrolled myself for the next male role they were auditioning for thinking of meeting you. I wasn’t expecting to see you at the try out, guess I was lucky” he shrugged “Here goes nothing. You see, kid, when you moved in, the first thing that went through my mind was ‘this woman is fucking hot’, but I was also really scared of  being too fucking weird and end up pushing you away, I’m a master at doing this kinda shit, ya’ know, so I stayed away. That was until I saw you dying to pass in that dick Jefferson’s test and decided to help you out. You were sweet, funny and kind.” you still remembered the day vividly, it held a special place in your heart and knowing that it did the same to him, made you softer causing your indiferent facade to melt away.

“And shit, ever since then you were so fucking present in my day, helping me out with my shit, watching those stupid fucking sitcoms and judging them with me. I fell for you and it scared the shit out of me so I didn’t do anything. Then you started to talk about that Angie girl, and I didn’t even want to kiss her, but you were so fucking into the woman that the only way I figured out for pushing you away from her was fucking her. I don’t even know what the hell I was thinking, you know I’m not a very smart guy with feelings. When you catched me with her I could see in your eyes how much I fucked up so, as I made my way home, I built up some walls around me trying to keep the situation from hurting me, which didn’t work. So when I found you at our place instead of apologizing like I should’ve done, I screamed and called you names. When you left the other day I was so fucking embarrassed and heartbroken that I never went looking for you to have this stupid conversation I’m having now, six years too late.” Adam finished making you even more angry than you were before.

“Unbelievable. You are so fucking stupid, Sackler. You have zero emotional intelligence, for fucks sake. I wanted to kiss you so bad when we started to hang out, but you didn’t give any fucking signal back. Think for a second of how much easier all of that would have been. God dammit, you need to talk to people. If you had told me any of your feelings I would have never have fallen for Angie, your gigantic idiot.” you throwed up the words, mad at the man for causing a huge problem that should have never even existed. “You liked me back?” he said, voice above a whisper. “You bet your sorry ass I did, jer-”, you were stopped when his lips met yours all out of the sudden. 

At first, you didn’t kiss him back still mad at him, but the part of you that never stopped missing Adam eventually won. You closed your eyes and allowed your hands to embrace his neck, your nails slowly scratching the part where his hair met the skin. As a reply, Sackler’s hand grabbed your ass tightly, squeezing it hard making you moan into his mouth and sending pleasure to your core. “Eager, are we?” he said mocking your red face and the little grunts that ended up escaping your mouth and dying in his. “Shut up, Sackler” you replied embarrassed at your own need. “Your wish is an order” he purred next to your ear before taking your earlobe into his mouth teasing it with his teeth, up next, his mouth started to make its way to your breasts leaving a tray of purple and red marks along the way. “Let’s take this thing off” he said as his hands held to the bottom of your shirt lifting it up as quickly as he possibly could. When the piece of clothing met the floor, his eyes met your exposed nipples since you weren’t wearing anything under the shirt.

“Such a fucking slut, walking out there without a bra, begging for these to be sucked” he said, his deep voice dripping with arousal as his fingers teased your hard nubs. “I guess I’ll be the one to teach you some fucking manners”. As soon as the words left his mouth, he let go of your right nipple replacing his fingers with his tongue and slapping your ass hard making you squirm under his ministrations. Shortly after, his tongue gave espace to his teeth as he carefully bit your nub. “M-more” you whispered, your cunt aching for his touch. 

“More what?” Sackler replied his eyes with a mischievous glam looking directly into your as he gave your other ass check a hard slap making you groan. “Answer me, slut” he demanded, his roughness and dirty talk making you wetter. “More. Puh-lease, sir” your voice echoed through the room foreign to you since it was shaky from all the need and pleasure you were simultaneously feeling. “That’s more how I like it” the man stated taking all of his clothing of. “Undress and get on the couch” was all he said before starting to pump his length slowly, teasing its tip and gathering the precum oozing from it for lubricate his movements. 

Your body reacted before your brain could form a coherent thought, in instants, your pants and panties were on the floor connecting the way from the door to the couch and you were on your hands and knees in its comfy surface, your breath loud and heavy as you watched Adam touching himself, your anticipation killing you slowly. As he closed the distance between the two of you, his hands never stopped touching his big and hard erection. It wasn’t long before he was behind you, his index finger from the free hand slowly going up and down your folds never touching your sore stiff clit. “You are such a filthy thing. We barely started and you are already dripping. Your sweet pussy begging for my big cock to tear it”, all you could do besides moaning a serie of ‘please’s was nod your head several times hoping that it would encourage him to end your pain. “You want me to make you cum? Beg for it, slut” he purred, none of his hands quitting their movements. “Please, please, sir, make me cum, make me feel so fucking good, like only you can” you begged desperate for it. 

The reply you gave seemed to please him enough since his finger finally touched your clit causing you to release a relieved noise and allow your head to fall between your arms. While circling it, he took his other hand inserting two fingers in your slickery hole, curling them and hitting your g spot over and over again, following the same rhythm his other finger circled your clit applying just the right amount of pressure on it. Soon, your release was getting closer, your eyes started to close as you focused on every sensation Sackler made you feel. When your orgasm hit, you were sent to another dimension, pleasure coursing through your every atom as you moaned his name. 

After you recovered from your intense climax, Sackler took his fingers away from your pussy, substituting them with his thick and long erection, stretching you open in ways you had never been before, every inch making your feel fuller. When he was finally done, his filthy words filled the air once again “Y-you are so fucking tight, you are strangling my damn cock”. His sheer length was making you squirm already, but every word that left his mouth make you unconsciously clench your cunt around him. As soon as you got accustomed to his size, you threw your hips back, a sign that he could start moving. Quickly, he was pounding in and out of you, in and out of you, in a merciless pace which made the sound of his pelvis meeting your ass echo loudly through the living room, your moans just as loud. Sackler’s hands were gripping your waist so tight that you knew it would bruise - not that you really cared -. 

“Ur so fucking good to me - jesusfuckingchrist - I wished I had fucked this pussy earlier”, you tried to sassy him since he was the one to blame, but he was fucking you so well that you couldn’t form a understandable phrase, all that left your mouth were whimpers as you felt his cock filling you perfectly and hitting your cervix in a unbelievable pace. “You can’t talk back, slut?” he gave a strangled laugh “Like you better l-liike that”. 

Taking one of his hands out of your waist, he took it to your clit rubbing it quickly and  pressuring it deliciously, taking you closer to the edge with every passing second. The fullness you were feeling and the electricity your nub filled with blood was sending to your brain making you tighter. It wasn’t long before you climaxed for the second time, losing the strength of your arms as your body shook, if it wasn’t for his grip you would have fell with your face directly on the couch. “Sweetfuck, you are milking my cock, shitshit”.

His pace became irregular and it wasn’t long before he took his erection out of you painting your ass and back with his release. Gently, Sackler laid you on the couch asking you where the bathroom was. When he returned with a towel to clean you up, you were watching a sitcom - you had put it on after using all you strength left to pick the remote - waiting for him. “After you clean your mess, let’s watch it like the old times” you said shaking your head towards the tv. 

“If you insist” he said with a smile on his beautiful face.

[writingchalamet]

In The Hills

An Upperclassman finds himself intrigued by a lower-class seamstress. Their worlds collide when they literally bump into each other at a May Day parade. 

A/N: I spent 15+ hours writing this yesterday only for it to be deleted so it probably doesn’t have the same spark as when I first wrote it which really bums me out. Also thinking of making this a multi-chapter story so let me know if you want a part 2 :) 

The sun beamed down on the grassy hills, lighting up every fleck of grass in its path. The wild flowers growing in the meadow bursting with vibrant colours, pink, purple, blue and whites. The flowers growing being the first real welcoming of spring. The temperature slowly rising to a comfortable level, unlike the winter just gone. It was May Day, a day for celebrating the welcoming of Spring, towns everywhere gathered together to celebrate the good weather and traditionally danced to increase fertility. 

Timothée Chalamet atop his horse was riding through the village on his way to his parents estate. It was along the dirt road that he heard the distant bustle of music and laughter. Curiosity only rising, he turned his horses tracks grasping the reins and tugging him in the direction of the sound. He rode uphill until he came across a large wooden pole erected from the ground, pieces of colourful ribbons hanging from the top and into the hands of the young ladies of the village. The men playing instruments and the girls, dressed in white danced in a circle around the May Pole. He stared for a moment then caught sight of a girl, her hair cascaded down her back in curls, her smile was bright, laughing as she clutched hands with the other girls jumping around. She was beautiful. 

Feeling intrigued he hopped down from his horse, allowing her to roam around. And strolled over to stand with the men, clapping and singing along. Not long after an older village lady shouted out for the boys to join the dance. Timothée stepped forwards joining the group in there circle, stood holding hands with two young women, both giggling at the likes of the handsome man. He spotted her across the circle, a small pit of envy growing in his stomach as he saw her holding hands with two other men. The song began again and the group began to move in circles, occasionally spinning and raising their arms. The circle broke and couples began pairing off to, performing a hand touch dance, before spinning and switching partners. The songs pace sped up as did the dancing. You could hear the breathlessness from each person as they passed. 

Timothée not completely concentrated on what he was doing took a step backwards, bumping into another dancer, rather vigorously sending her to the ground. It was then that he heard her laugh for the first time, sounding like bells in his ears. He vastly lunged forwards offering his hands out to her. It was then that she turned her head, and looked up to meet his gaze. It was the girl he had been somewhat fixated on. She took his hands graciously still laughing, and he pulled her into a standing position. 

“Miss are you alright, are you hurt?” The secure feeling of his hands on her elbows making her feel more at ease. “I’m very well sir, thank you, and I apologise” bowing her head into a submissive nod. He lets out a sigh of relief, “nonsense, It is I that is at fault, I stepped to forcefully and bumped into you” His eyes were full of guilt realising he could have really hurt her. “May I ask your name miss?” hopefulness rang in his voice. 

“Of course sir, Y/n, Y/n L/n” He let the name sit in his head for a moment, his mind reeling over and over. Beautiful, he thought. He offered his arm out to her which she took cordially. They began to walk away from the group, the buzz of the music and laughter fading as they got further away. She looked up at him almost as if she recognised him from somewhere. “And what might your name be sir” she spoke with hint of curiousness, trying to piece together where she might recognise the gentleman from. she was sure she had seen him pass through the village on his horse before, but he never usually stops to engage with anyone. 

“Timothée Chalamet, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance”  He took one of her hands in his, raising it to his lips. Although she wore a sudden blush across her cheeks, they soon went pale again at the realisation of who he was. “Chalamet, as in Lord Chalamet’s son?” Her voice was muted the shock coursing through her system. She had been seen tantalising with the Lords son. “Yes Lord Chalamet is my father however I do not live on the estate, I wish to lead my own life, Do you know the cottage at the far end of the village, on top of the hill?” She nodded in response “That’s my house” she let out a short breath, the shock still in her system. 

“Well I bet your family would not approve of you talking to the likes of a girl like me” She muttered with her head hung low. A soft hand was placed delicately under her chin to raise it back to meet his eyes. It was then she felt her body melt away, his orbs swirled a pale green colour with hazel flecks towards the centre. She was gone. “I do not care for my families title, nor their opinions or their ignorance. I’m a man that simply wishes to exist, I am unbothered by the socialist way of life, and all the high society has provided for me is a name. Everything else I have done I’ve worked for myself, without the help of my fathers money. I will be no part in their charade.” He spoke bluntly but with passion. She just let out a short breath. It seemed they had gotten closer while he was talking, she could practically feel his breath on her skin. 

Politely taking a step backwards a simple “I see” fell from her lips confirming her understanding to him. She took another step backwards pulling away from him completely, brushing off her dress, and fixing the loose curls that had stuck to her damped skin from the dancing. He smiled as he watched her, taking note of her little mannerisms. “I would love to have you over for tea, do you have the time tomorrow afternoon?” She stood there dumfounded by his bold question, why would he want to see her again. 

“I do yes, I would first have to ensure that my mother will be home to take care of my sisters of course, but..” Her sentence trailed off, her head still reeling at the question. “Where can I find you?” He queried. This part she wasn’t looking forwards to, admitting the poverty her family came from. “Do you know Mill Lane?” he nodded encouraging her to continue. “Mine is the cobble house with a large wagon in the front yard.” She smiled at him “Oh yes I believed I’ve passed it before, is the wagon your fathers?” he asked plainly, genuinely intrigued to know more about her. 

“Yes he’s a costermonger, he trades potatoes from the local farm in the surrounding towns” For the first time she spoke confidently, proud of her family, which was a lot more than he could be of his. “Wonderful, and your mother, you mentioned you have sisters?” stepping closer again showing her his interest. 

“Myself and my mother are seamstresses, we work at the Hepsketh dress shop, and yes I have two younger sisters, Maeve and Eleanor who I take care of while my parents are working. I also have an older sister she’s away working as a housemaid for the Lord of Buckinghamshire.” She spoke more clearly this time, detailing her love for her family in her tone. 

“Well I must come and introduce myself tomorrow, before I take you to tea” he flirted, eyes boring into hers. He couldn’t help himself, he had somehow become infatuated with this girl within the ten minutes they had been talking. She shook her head laughing a little at his boldness. She looked back up the hill and noticed how far away they had strayed from the group. 

“I apologise for leaving so soon, but I must be going Sir, I left my sisters up there with my friends and they’ll be wondering where I’ve gotten to” He caught her hand once more before she turned away completely. “It was a pleasure meeting you, miss L/n, I look forwards to seeing you again” he raised her hand once again leaving a light kiss on her knuckles. She soon felt the tingle shoot through her at the touch. “It was lovely meeting you Mr Chalamet, I’ll see you on the morrow.” She spoke softly matching his tone, before turning away and running back up the hill to her friends. 

He stood and observed for a moment as she reached her friends, hearing the faint squeals and giggles emitted from their mouths. Her friends carefully brushed away hairs that had blown in her face and fixed her dress, they all turned to face him, another set of squeaks coming from the girls. He saw two young girls running towards her, she fell to her knees and embraced each girl in her arms. A look of love upon her face, she rose, taking the girls hands and began dancing once again. He was in awe of her. He found his horse again jumping on, tugging the reins in the downwards direction back to the dirt road. His head turning once more to catch a glimpse of her before she was completely out of sight. He sighed as she went out of view and followed back to the road leading to his families estate. 

The noise was almost constant in your house. The loud cheerful buzzed through the walls of the small house. Although you didn’t come from much you came from love and a hardworking family. Each member doing all they can to ensure the families stability. You wandered into the kitchenet area where your mother was preparing a lunch. She didn’t quite believe you when you had told her you met a fine gentleman yesterday. She was a kind woman but was never very trusting of the higher class, they only wished to humiliate and belittle us, in her mind. 

You had dressed this morning in the nicest dress you owned. Blue with white frilly details along the neckline and bust, It accentuated your femininity, you although had rolled up the sleeves, which your mother was always smacking your wrist for, to make it easier to work in. You had wished just once though that you would be fortunate enough in this lifetime to wear a dress and grand as the ones you helped sew at the shop. Mrs Hepsketh was one of the most acknowledged dress makers in the county, often getting orders from Lady’s and socialites. You just helped sew them together. 

A roar of laughter and screams emitted from the front garden where your two sisters had been playing, chasing and hitting each other with sticks. You walked out to stand in the doorway, keeping an eye on them, they had always been quite boisterous, a trait they must have picked up from your father. Your older sister and yourself were always quite contented with books and sewing, something that the girls had always turned their nose up to. 

“who’s that! Look at the carriage!”  “I think he’s coming to our house!” their words jumbled together stumbling over one another only adding to the chaos. He’s coming. A sudden burst of nervousness and excitement washed over you. Running back into the house you fixed your hair and flattened your dress. “He’s here mama, he’s on his way, how do I look” With frantic eyes you turned to your mother who still seemed completely un-phased. “Lovely” She said without looking up from her dough and rolling pin. You let out a puff of air, taking a seat on the sofa and pulling out a book, as if to look unfathomed by his arrival. 

“Mama there’s a man here to see y/n!” - “mama his name is Timothée he wants to take y/a to tea, mama look!” The girls’ voices once again jumping over one another, making it hard to clearly hear what they were saying. Into the room steps Timothée with a garland of flowers in her hands, a timorous smile on his face. He looked towards you lifting the flowers slightly. Your mother finally looked up from her dough, flour all over her apron, with a shocked expression on her face. “Oh my dear boy, do come in, what was your name again?” moving around the small table stepping towards him, bowing her head in acquaintance. 

“Timothée, Mam, Timothée Chalamet”  It was at that moment that your mothers eyes practically gouged out of her head, her jaw almost hitting the ground. “My Lord” She bows her head again dropping into an awkward curtsey, Timothée took your mothers hand raising her from her position. “Please, non of that is necessary, and please call me Timothée, I’ve never been fond of such formalities.” He smiled at your mother softly “Ti-Timothée alright, can I get you some tea my boy” you sensed your mothers nerves dropping the more she spoke to him. 

“No I’m quite alright thank you, I was hoping to take Y/n out to tea, if it didn’t bother you” The timidity reflected in his voice, unsure of what her answer would be. “Of course, she’s right over there” directing his attention fully to you. He stepped towards you nervously. Offering you the flowers still in your seated position. “These are for you” handing over the flowers, “Thank you they’re beautiful” inspecting them closely admiring the beautiful array of colours. “not as beautiful as you miss L/n” he spoke quietly, almost afraid he’s offed someone. “awww” erupted from both your sisters mouths. You stood up and sent them a short glare warning them to stop. “Maeve would you put these in water for me please” directing your words to the elder of the girls. You handed the flowers over to the girl, walking over towards the door taking your shawl and wrapping it around your shoulders. 

You kissed your mother on the cheek but didn’t have time to stop the assault Eleanor was making towards Timothée. Tugging at his trouser leg looking up at him with wild eyes “Are you going to marry my sister?” You blushed shooing her away from him “I apologise-” you were interrupted, “maybe if she’d have me” Your eyes widened in shock, your younger sisters giggling and your mother looking heart-warmed. He held out his arm for you again beckoning for you to take it. You looped your arm though his, saying a final ‘goodbye’ to your family before exiting. You look up to Timothée the sunlight bouncing off his skin, making him look more undeniably handsome. There sat at the front of your house, a peculiar yellow coloured, two person carriage. 

You noticed his horse from yesterday, her hairs looking even more ginger in the light. He held out a hand for you and aided you stepping into the coach. He followed pursuit, pulling the reins into his hands giving them a snap, encouraging the horse to move. You looked back at your humble house again, seeing your mother and sisters in the doorway, your sisters still shouting their goodbyes as you drove away. 

The yellow carriage followed the road, up hill to the south of the village where, Timothée’s cottage was. He charmed you the entire journey there, his constant flattery was something you’d have to get used to. You soon pulled up to the cottage, colourful trellis travelling up each side of the house, splashing the walls in colourful flowers. The carriage came to a holt. Timothée jumping down and walking to your side to help you down. Soon two members of staff came out un latching the horse from the carriage and pulling them both away following down the side of the house, which you can only imagine where the stable is kept. 

“Your house is beautiful sir” looking up at the larger house in awe. The light stone walls accented beautifully with the flowers travelling up the house. “Thank you, lets go in, I’ll have Marian prepare some tea” taking his arm again you followed him into the house. Stepping inside a lounge area, paintings hung on the walls, a hand carved clock sat atop the fireplace mantle. The decoration of the room felt quite romantic. Oak furnishings filled the room. “ Please take a seat, I’ll go fetch Marian” he left the room contently, eyes lingering on you a little longer. Your own eyes fell on a painting hung on the wall. A portrait of Timothée, you wandered over, reaching your hand up, gently tracing over the delicate brush strokes. It was beautiful, they accented the hazel flicks in his eyes and even managed to capture his half smirk perfectly. 

You stepped back abruptly hearing footsteps re-enter the room. “Oh that old thing, my father had that done for me, a sort of ‘gift’ for me leaving the families fortune” He scoffed and nodded his head in the direction of the chairs sitting in the room. You followed his gaze and seated yourself in one of the armchairs.

“How do you take your tea mam?”  You heard pleasantly from the woman stood next to you holding a tea tray. “lemon or sugar?” she insisted placing the tray down on the table in front of you. “please call me y/n, and no thank you I take it plain. Thank you” You smiled at the woman assuming it was Marian that Timothée mentioned earlier. She gracefully poured two cups and handed the china over to you. You took it thanking her again with a subtle nod. 

“You are excused Marian, Thank you” Timothée utters smiling at the older woman. You took a sip and diverted your eyes back to him. “How do you like it?” he smiled genuinely happy to be in your company. “It’s lovely thank you, Sir” - “Please just call me Timothée.” you nodded your head again submitting to his request. 

“Do you not feel lonesome living here all alone” The words rushed out of your mouth afraid of causing offence. “I’m never truly alone, I have Marian and my books keep me company just fine” he laughed easing your nerves. “What books do you like to read, I’m reading Shakespeare to my sisters at the moment, trying to teach them how to read” Your eyes lit up at the mutual love for reading. “Well I do love Shakespeare, Washington Irving has always been a favourite of mine.” He smiled looking towards you for your approval. 

“what’s your favourite work of Shakespeare?” he questioned you, intrigued to know more. “It has always been sonnet 116. It’s just so emotional.” you carried on reciting the sonnet. “Let me not to the marriage of true minds, Admit impediments. Love is not love, Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks, Within his bending sickle's compass come;  Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.” You spoke clearly and passionately. The words seemed to roll off your tongue with ease. You noticed him staring at you with a soft expression. 

“That was beautiful.” he responded, he couldn’t quite find the words to express how he felt. “You are beautiful” the words fell from his lips before he could stop them. A blush crept up to your cheeks, feeling suddenly very hot, you rose to your feet and walked to stand by the window. You looked out at the view. You could everything from up here. The hills, the village and distantly the trees lining his families estate. 

He stood up and walked towards you taking your hand in his. “forgive me if I have overstepped, I just can’t help but speak my mind” You blushed again, this time grazing your fingers over his knuckles, in reassurance. “No forgive me sir, no one has ever called me beautiful before, I’m just unsure of how to respond, to ones remarks” You let out a breathy laugh. “I refuse to believe no one has ever called you beautiful before, what about your mother?” He gushed over you “No she’s a woman of few words” You smiled dropping your head to look at your feet. There his hand slid under your chin again listing it to meet his eyeline. 

“Well you are beautiful, thank you for coming, I wasn’t sure you’d still want to attend” he changed the subject to avoid your disagreement with his comments. “Thank you for inviting me, my mother didn’t believe me when I said a young man was coming to take me to tea, It wasn’t until you walked through the door that she realised I wasn’t just fantasising” He smiles in return laughing along with you at the thought. 

“Well I’ll have to come and visit you more regularly so she doesn’t forget me” he smirked, looking much alike with the painting that stood behind him. You giggled shaking your head. “You want to see me again?” you quizzed him, trying to find a logical explanation as to why. “Of course, do you not wish to see me” He replies slightly offended. 

“Yes of course, It’s just that I know your mother has you lined up to marry several Ladies in the county, and I do not wish to be a distraction, they would not approve of your flirtations towards me.” glancing out the window staring down at the tree barrier of his parents manor house, from across the village. 

“I have said before, I do not care for my families title nor any of the women they may wish me to marry. That is why I moved away from the estate, I want them to see that I am capable of making my own decisions. They bare too much ignorance towards anyone of a lower class, their shallow mindedness has led to them losing a son. I do not need their approval of anything, and you are far better and kinder and more beautiful than any socialite they could ever find.” He finished his rant with a puff of air. “I apologise for going off like that, they just anger me that is all” dropping his head slightly, not wanting to meet your eyeline in case of judgement. 

“I have never met anyone more passionate than you Timothée.” His head turned slightly giving you that one sided smile. You look towards the clock and notice the time. “Oh my, I am sorry but I must be going father will be expecting me” Pulling away walking to the back of the door where Marian had hung up your shawl. “Of course I’ll get Johnson to take you home at once, I won’t be a moment” He stepped out of the room before you could protest. You took one last look at the room soaking everything in one last time before you left. You didn’t know if you really would be able to see him again. 

“He is preparing the carriage now, miss L/n” He strides towards you again taking your hands in his “I am so pleased you came today” his hands were clammy and notably warmer than your icy ones. “Thank you for the invitation Mr Chalamet” He loved hearing the way his name rolled off your tongue. You heard the carriage outside and followed Timothée out towards it. He once again offered his hand in his gentleman like manor and helped you step into the carriage. 

Just as the horse started pulling away you heard him shout “When can I see you again?” smiling his hand shading his eyes from the sun. “You know where to find me Sir, Goodbye!” You hollered back to him giving him a final wave. You sat back in the carriage and let out a relaxed breath, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin. You looked over at the view of the village, as the cart slowly trucked its way downhill. You felt a sense of comfort, you had never before clicked with someone, or had someone speak to you with as much passion and drive as Timothée had expressed. Something about him just felt right. 

[stanskzseungmin]

SCB ~ Shifting Tides

Mafia! + Gangster! AU

Gangster! Changbin x F! Gangster! Reader x Mentioned! Woojin x Mentioned! Chan x Mentioned! Lee Know

Genre: Angst

Trigger Warnings: Drugs, Alcohol, Non Graphic Sexual Content, Slightly Graphic Depictions of Violence, Death, Rape, Self Harm, Kidnapping, Torture

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: #NotProofread #WeDyingLikeMEN

A/N 2: Also kinda slow burn, because I’m not good at pacing lmao.

A/N 3: Title kinda doesn’t relate, but if you know, you know. I can’t wait for the next season.

A/N 4 (I’ll shut up after this dw): I did not like how it turned out because I hella rushed the ending. I wanted to get this beefy boy done and over with so… sorry if it wasn’t that great.

In life, there are limits. There are boundaries, fine lines that should never be crossed. But in a selfish world, the selfish succeeds. They thrive within the blurred lines that have been smudged and smeared to a gray area between black and white. However, is black and white really so different? Is it simply one is good and one is bad?

The color black can produce feelings of emptiness, gloom, sadness and rebellion. The color black is also affiliated with animosity, malicious intent and evil. Black can also symbolize fear or the unknown. In mainstream media, the bad guy is usually depicted donning black clothing and the good guy is in white. But is white as virtuous as it seems?

White is a visually loud color. It is hard to miss. White can be blinding and can cause headaches. It is also affiliated with coldness and loneliness. White could also be an emotional detachment or a complete cleansing and purge.

But what they both have in common, is to never judge a book by its cover.

It was a typical Friday night for you. Dark nights, crowded rooms packed with people, blaring music and flashing lights. You were feeling particularly randy that night. Boosted with liquid confidence, you adjust your wayyyy too short body hugging white dress. The dress seemed to hang dangerously low on your bust and is riding high up your thighs, leaving your rack on full display and your undergarment is barely peeking out. Your dress was riddled with many gems, rhinestones and glitter that almost made it appear as if you were glowing under the many lights of the bustling club.

Giggling to yourself, you drank the amber color liquid from your glass. You hummed pleasantly from the strong sweet rambunctious flavor and the light burning down your throat. Your head was swimming from the light buzz you were feeling as you let yourself go on the dancefloor raising your glass. 

It was one of those nights where you could feel the pent up frustration residing over you like an elephant keeping you pinned down under its large foot. You needed release and what’s a better way to release pent up stress other than sex? As you were swaying your hips sensually to the flow of the song, your eyes were searching for a physically attractive man that could make you forget the maladies of your past week. Your heart swelled with pride from the several men eyeing you like a piece of candy with their bottom lip captured between their teeth. You recognized a select few, but you were sworn to only affiliating yourself to each man once. Commitment wasn’t your style, you had too much to lose. You’d rather let whatever drunken feelings dissipate by morning’s light.

You recognized a cute faced honey brown haired male. He sat in a booth by himself with distant eyes that glanced at different points of interests of the club. You couldn’t remember his name, Woo.. Woo-something, not that you cared enough to remember. Sex with him was pleasantly surprising. You were expecting a bashful innocent boy judging from his face, but he was a sex god that packed quite a punch below the belt. Your eyes nearly rolled out of your sockets seeing him in all his glory. He really fucked you dumb with his magnum dick.

Another person you recognized was a guy with crispy blond hair. Black seemed to be a natural color for him; the dark leather complimented his pale skin perfectly. You couldn’t really put a finger on anything remotely close to his name. You only remember the thick Australian accent he had. His doesn’t compare to the size of the first, but him being vocal in bed made up for it. He wasn’t much of a moaner, more of a power trip dirty talker. His accent made it all the more worth it. You could still hear his sultry “Babygirl” being whispered in your ear and it sent chills down your spine.

The last guy you recognized was the blue haired performer on the club stage. He wore a skimpy outfit: a long sleeved crop top and a matching black booty shorts. The way he danced around that pole was so fluid, you wondered if he even had any bones. You only remembered his name because of how dumb it was. What kind of name was Lee Know anyway? Initially, you absolutely refused to moan out his dumb name, but how he used his stick when he dicked you down was jaw dropping. It’s probably because of his damn dancer hips.

You were currently being courted by this much older guy who reeks of alcohol, but you had a much higher standard. Your eyes caught a glimpse of this dark guy. He sat next to the Aussie. His body was facing you on the stool. His legs were wide open practically inviting you in between them, but his upper body was twisted and turned to face the same direction as the Aussie who was sitting with his back facing towards you. You rebuffed the older man who had his hands on your hips and is licking your neck, walking out of his grasp without sparing him a second glance. You stood in between the man dressed in full black’s legs and leaned forward, resting your hands on his thighs making sure to show off your rack. The male quickly whipped his upper body to face you with wide eyes. 

“Damn, babygirl,” the Aussie noticed your presence as well and gave a quick slap on your ass.

“Not tonight, baby boy,” you smirked with your eyes still glued to the handsome man before you.

The Aussie huffed as turned away taking another swig of his drink. You eyed the man before you. His dark hair was delicately tucked under his black cap. He wore a tight black tee that accentuates his broad and tone chest. He also had a leather jacket slung over one of his legs.

“Do you have a weapons license? Because look at these guns,” you chuckled feeling his broad muscles on his thick arms. 

The man scoffed with a small smile obviously amused by your attempts at flirting. 

“Not bad,” he smirked. Your ears buzzed hearing his raspy and rough voice. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Changbin chuckled reaching behind and roughly grabbed your thighs and pulled you onto his lap. You teased him a bit by grinding your clothed heat against his thigh.

“So your place or mine, handsome?” you inquired, biting your lip and running a finger along his fly. 

“Mine, it’s closer,” he whispered kissing along your neck.

You hummed in delight. “Shall we be off then?”

Changbin nodded softly, putting his hands on your hips and lifted you up slowly. He slapped the Aussie’s shoulder to signify that he was leaving. In an act of chivalry, he led you out of the bustling club with a hand on the small of your back and pushing away any drunk guys who’s trying to grab at you. Once you both were outside and the door closed behind you. The loud music transitioned to muffled noise. You shivered when you felt the cool breeze. It seemed as if a storm was coming in. Changbin then decadently draped his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders.

“So chivalry isn’t dead,” you chuckled.

“I’m not as bad as I look,” Changbin smirked outstretching an arm, pointing the direction of his apartment.

“I haven’t seen you around. You new to this area?”

“No, I actually frequent the club every week. You’re there every time,” Changbin chuckled, pulling out a cigarette and placing it within his lips. He offered the box to you with a cig protruding out. 

“And you’ve done nothing about it? I’m not that alluring to you?” you smirked accepting his cigarette and placing it between your lips as well. You both leaned forward so the ends touch. Changbin covered the connection with his hand as he lit both cigs simultaneously. 

He took one long drag of the cig and exhaling out the smoke. “I don’t take advantage of women.”

“How quaint.”

~

Once the doors have closed, all bets were off. Changbin has pinned you against his door as lips are met in a heated kiss with clashing teeth. You immediately shrugged off your (his) jacket, letting the leather material fall to the floor. Your hands flew to his belt and began loosening the material as he hiked up your already too short dress to get full access to your bottom.

“Are you gonna lead me to a bed or are you going to fuck me on this doorway, handsome?” you smirked, pulling away momentarily to catch a breath. He let out a guttural growl before hoisting you in his arms with his hands supporting your knees.

You both collapsed on the sheets as he pulled up the cover to drape over both your sweaty bodies.

“I never did catch your name,” he turned to face you, resting his head in his hand.

“Y/N,” you spoke out. “What about you, handsome?”

“SpearB,” he spoke out pridefully.

“Oh, so you’re CB97’s guy?” you smirked looking deep into his eyes.

His expression fell as his gaze darkened.

“You…know about us?” Changbin growled out threateningly.

“Only by name, it’s nice to put a face to it though,” you giggled patting his cheek softly. You sat up, swinging your legs off the edge of the bed and stood up, exposing your naked back in all of its glory to him. You bent down to slide on your party dress.

“Well, I shall be off. Thanks for the wild night, B,” you winked at him and tossed him your lace panty. He effortlessly caught it with his free hand. “A gift for you.”

Needless to say, you’ve caught Changbin’s attention. You were a total enigma that he desperately wanted to solve. It was icing on the cake that you were easy on the eyes as well.

“Chan hyung, do you think you can find out who that girl is?” Changbin asked leaning over Chan’s shoulder.

“Who do you think I am? CB97 is the best hacker in the underground,” Chan chuckled running his fingers through his blond hair and taking a long drag of his blunt. “Was she a good fuck?”

Changbin chuckled, “you had her before. How could you hold back this valuable information?”

“I never knew you were interested! Here, I got her,” Chan gestured Changbin to gaze at his laptop screen.

“Ally or enemy?” Changbin’s lips quirked upward gazing at the stunning picture of you.

“Amicable,” Chan clarified. 

Changbin hummed in response. “I want her. There’s something about her that’s so alluring. She’s like a puzzle box that I desperately want to solve.”

“Careful, mate. Every lovely rose has its own thorns,” Chan warned.

“It’ll be fine. She has no fixed affiliation with a specific gang, she could join ours as my girl,” Changbin smirked, the air filled with his hubris.

“Alright. It seems her day cover is a barista job at Yellow Wood Cafe. You can take bus 4419 there.”

~

It had been almost 2 months since you last saw Changbin. Of course you knew who he was. His actual name, his face and who he was affiliated with, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you saw him around. CB97 was a true mystery though. As far as you knew, he was never seen in public and several other gangs and mafias in the area tried to gather as much info on the man, but couldn’t even get a face, not even a name. 

You pulled your long hair into a high ponytail as you tie on your apron over your modest white dress shirt and black pencil skirt. It was early morning and you were the only one running the morning shift. Your coworkers would usually trickle in one by one about an hour to half before noon. There was also not that many customers, just the usual regulars. The second you see them walk in, you would get straight to work fixing up their drinks. As you served an elderly man his coffee, the hanging door bell rang as you were pouring the elderly man milk in his coffee.

“Welcome to Yellow Wood Caf…e,” you trailed off seeing the man standing in the doorway. His dark locks was slicked up exposing his forehead and showed off his intricate face. He wore clothing similar to what he had on when you saw him in the club: tight black shirt tucked into his dark jeans with fingerless leather gloves. The only thing different is that he was a very loose and worn black cotton vest. With his smirking face, it was Seo “SpearB” Changbin himself.

“For one,” he stated with his sultry voice.

“Anywhere you like,” you smiled with a plastic smile as you gestured to all the empty seats. You followed him to a corner table in the sun as he sat down in the wooden chair. You placed a menu on the table in front of him.

“No need,” he waved at the menu. “I just want coffee as dark as my soul.”

“So coffee with extra cream and sugar and a hefty amount of milk?”

Changbin spluttered choking on his saliva. “I am dark.”

“Sure,” you smirked as you walked away to pour a glass of dark coffee. 

You delicately placed the glass cup before him as you took the seat in front of him.

“Why are you here?” you frowned.

“What’s wrong with going to a cafe for coffee?” he smiled innocently.

“I don’t think you’re here for coffee,” you crossed your arms at his remark.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he responded coyly.

“Of course not,” you remarked sarcastically.

“Alright, you got me,” he brought up his hands up in surrender. “I’m just here for the barista.”

“No,” you stated with finality as you left your seat.

Changbin however didn’t let that phase him. Everyday that week, Changbin frequented your cafe, coming in at the same time, ordering the same drink and sitting in the same corner table. Every single time, he wore black clothing. If you didn’t know better, you would assume he wore the exact same clothing every single time.

“You’re not going to give up, aren’t you?” you snapped, pouring him his drink.

“Please, just join my bed and lay by my side,” Changbin smirked darkly.

You huffed. “Straight to the point, huh? Fine. I’ll meet you at your apartment tonight.”

Changbin internally cheered and threw up an imaginary fist in victory. His heart and stomach did flips within him, but externally, he was calm and collected as he took another sip of his coffee.

As promised, you did show up to his apartment late at night. It was around 10 when you finally arrived. Changbin sat around anxious twiddling his thumbs fearing that you had stood him up. In reality, you were caught up in work because the café was understaffed. A few of your coworkers were feverish and never showed. You showed up still in uniform.

By the time you and Changbin had gone a couple of rounds, it was well past midnight and a storm was brewing. Lightning flashed as rain lightly pattered the window.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” Changbin offered. “A storm looks as if it’s going to come in.”

You sighed sitting up on his bed. Changbin tossed you one of his hoodies that was discarded on the ground. 

“Your hoodie smells like shit,” you laughed sliding it over your naked body. You weren’t necessarily lying. The material reeked of alcohol, drugs and sex.

Changbin snorted sliding on a pair of black boxers.

“Might as well. I’ve already broken many rules staying here,” you sighed jumping back on his bed.

“What do you mean?” Changbin asked. 

“I don’t sleep with guys twice and look at us now going for round 2.”

“I’m flattered. Settling with just one dick isn’t your style?” Changbin chuckled.

“Commitment isn’t my style. I don’t want to catch feelings,” you frowned looking off to the side, unable to face him.

“Why is that?” Changbin asked concerned. His voice was laced with worry and his tone suggested that he was genuinely interested. You internally rolled your eyes at your thoughts.

“You could only be betrayed if you trust. You could only be heartbroken if you love. To experience pain, you had to feel. I don’t want to go through that again…” you trailed off. 

“Is this why you’re not tied with any gangs?” Changbin asked softly.

“Yes. I don’t trust people. They always end up leaving one way or another or using me.”

“I won’t leave you,” Changbin blurted out without thinking. You glared at the man after hearing his words. Even though Changbin hadn’t meant to say it, he meant it. He genuinely wanted to get to know you better.

“How can I trust you? You’re just a gangster at the end of the day,” you spat.

“Have you ever heard the saying ‘there is more honor among thieves than diplomats?’” Changbin started. “You and I both know that it holds water.”

You scoffed. He wasn’t technically wrong. Many of the gangs run on social solidarity and a sense of a brotherhood. Many people thrive on the fact that you can do stuff with your “brothers”: drink with your brothers, do drugs with your brothers, etc. It’s a way of escaping life. You, however, favor the physical relationships that would disappear by morning’s light. You let out a loud groan, thinking long and hard about Changbin’s proposal. 

“Many people have hurt you. I won’t be one of them. I refuse to be a statistic.”

You stared deep within Changbin’s soul through his eyes. He seemed unphased and determined against your steel will. Not wanting to deal with his determination, you changed the subject.

“A drink isn’t going to cut it. You got any drugs?” You swung your legs over the edge of the bed as you waltzed out of his room with Changbin following suit. 

“Uhh..  yea. What are you hoping for?” Changbin asked pulling out ziplock bags of drugs and setting it on the table before you. “I have a fair bit of weed and a few that will definitely fuck you up.”

“You don’t really seem like the type to do drugs,” you chuckled.

“I’m not. Just mainly weed and only then, I don’t do it much. You’re not the type to do drugs either.”

“Got me there. I’m actually planning to grab and go,” you jested lightheartedly, eliciting a laugh from him.

“Wow [by 3RACHA]. Going to make some bank off of drugs that’s not even yours. Shady.”

You laughed wholeheartedly in return.

“So,” you started off.

“So?” Changbin called off heading towards his mini fridge and grabbing two beers, handing one towards you.

“So you’ve gotten your gain. What is mine?” you asked with a hint of mischievousness laced in your voice, taking a small sip of your beer.

“You know this all underground stuff with gangs, killings, alcohol, drugs and shit. You can’t leave once you’re caught up with this shit. It just… takes control of your life. Your life isn’t yours anymore. Ya feel me?”

“Yea… I feel you,” you nodded. “Is this why you’ve never given out your actual name?”

“It’s sacred to me. It’s the only part of me I have left.”

~

Being alone in these sorts of dealings is way less than ideal, especially when you’re basically flying solo. You had no gang to watch over you and no family or friends to rely on. A price to pay in order to protect yourself. You would rather die alone, than die heartbroken.

Your day job did little to support you. You never would’ve predicted you would even end up in the life you’re in now. You felt pressured by the world, ready to give up. You found a way to relieve those built up tensions by many many one night stands. However, this has caused you a bit  of trouble since you unintentionally riled up underground crime lords who are spoiled rotten that they can not take no for an answer and stuck with the “if I can’t have you, no one can” kind of schtick. So you learned to survive and bounce around various protections but without actually getting involved. 

You were currently commissioned by one of the resident local gangs who needed your aid to ensure a highly important deal is a success. You were never told the details, just that it had to be passed. All you were told is that you were to meet up with your client's… client and trade the briefcase you’re provided with with theirs with the instructions to never look inside either of the briefcases. Your payment? Protection from those who want you gone before, during and after the deal. Afterwards, you would basically be set free as vulnerable as a deer caught in headlights until you find another job to do.

You fiddled with the hem of your black skin tight leather dress as another finger twisted and curled a strand of your hair. The briefcase was rested snugly by your feet as you leaned your body against the wall.

“Y/N?” a voice whispered out to you in the shadows.

“SpearB? Are you… the client?" 

"No… I’m the messenger. I didn’t think you were one of them,” Changbin set down his briefcase and crossed his arms.

“I’m the same as you, a messenger as well. I was hired to make sure this…whatever this is, is a success.”

“… I see.” Changbin paused. “You don’t need to do this you know? Hopping from job to job. One day you’re going to run into a gang who will see your job hopping as disloyalty. And you know what happens to people who are disloyal. You could come with us, with me.”

“I already said no, SpearB. I only agreed to try out…whatever we are. Don’t make this any harder for me and give me your damn briefcase!” You outreached your hand suggesting Changbin to just hand over his briefcase.

He sighed. “On one condition.”

“What?” you growled out. 

“Do jobs for CB97.”

“Sure, I’m going to do jobs for an enigma,” you grumbled reaching for the briefcase with Changbin lifting it above his head out of your reach. 

“Please,” Changbin whispered softly.

“Fine,” you gave in after a pause and handed him your briefcase and he handed you his. 

“You’re going to go back to your client right? Let me come with you,” Changbin walked forward and grasping your wrist gently.  

“No-”

“Please, I know who your guy is. He’s dangerous. I’m just a messenger, he probably won’t know who I am,” Changbin pressed. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”

You let out a loud defeated sigh.

~

“You were followed?” your client, growled out eyeing the dark male behind you.

“Hakuna your-tatas, babe. He’s with me,” you rolled your eyes, scoffing softly before proceeding to place your (Changbin’s) briefcase on the table.

“But you work alone…” your client eyed you warily, and carefully grabbed a hold of the briefcase with high precaution.

“You seem to know me. Clearly not well enough,” you waltzed over to Changbin with a slight swagger to your hips and grabbed his lower jaw. Your fingers pressed into the soft flesh of his cheeks and squishing them up. You chuckled internally at Changbin’s expression when you did that.

“He’s my baby boy, my boy toy. Surely, a pimp like you can understand,” you responded cheekily, yet carefully trying not to rile up your client. “Look at him being a good boy. Standing there silent, waiting for mommy to finish her job." 

You squished his cheeks even more until his lips scrunched up into an expression similar to a fish. You got up to your toes and gave him a light kiss to his lips. Needless to say, the glare Changbin shot towards you was priceless.

"Rigghhhttttt….” your client coughed out, feeling slightly awkward about the situation. He turned the briefcase towards him and began undoing the clasps. You slowly closed the gap between you and the client. You leaned forward slowly, the sounds of distress from your leather dress due to the stretch broke through the silence. Your pressed your palms onto the cool metal of the table and slowly spread your arms. Your client glanced up at you and down to your exposed cleavage. While he was distracted, Changbin circled around the room slowly, pretending to seem interested to the many dust unsettling from the ceiling. You eyed Changbin curiously. You confused glare burned through him. You were sure Changbin could feel your gaze boring into him due to him stiffing up momentarily.

“I did what you asked. I got your pretty briefcase. May I get going now? I promised my baby boy there a wild night,” you smirked, wanting nothing more to do with this man. You only cared about your payment for rent.

Your client snapped out of his daze of ogling over your cleavage. He cleared his throat and regained his composure.

“Of course, if this deal actually went through. You would get your payment,” he replied, carefully unclasping the briefcase. You hummed pleasantly in relief from him finally getting to the point.

“What the fuck?” your client seethed.

“Is something the matter, hand-” you were cut off by your client grasping your neck harshly. His large fingers wrapped around the delicate flesh most likely leaving bruises as he cut off your air supply.

“You bitch,” he spat at you. Flecks of saliva flew to your face as you attempted to pry his hand off of you. “You gave me a false briefcase, didn’t you. This shit is empty-”

“Let her go.” A soft click of a gun echoed through the air. Your client’s eyes widened at the realization that a gun was pressed to the back of his head. He slowly released your neck and raised his arms up. You stumbled backwards hacking and gasping for air.

“What?” your client’s voice was breathless. “Who?-”

“SpearB. Ring a bell? She didn’t swap your damn case. It was empty to begin with. Her orders were only to swap the case and bring it back and to never look at the contents.”

Your gaze darkened at Changbin’s words as you raised your head to glare at him. How did he know what your actual orders was?

Feeling a pair of eyes burning through him, Changbin glanced at you with an apologetic look.

“B? What the fuck?” You gritted out through clenched teeth.

A hesitation. A moment of weakness. That was all the client needed. Changbin eased up slightly to apologize. The client easily grabbed ahold of Changbin’s armed hand and twisted it behind his back trying wretch the weapon out of his hand. With hands quicker than the eye, the tables were quickly turned and it is now Changbin at gunpoint with his own gun. 

“SpearB? So you’re part of 3RACHA? I didn’t think 3RACHA cared about anyone other than yourselves? Only using everyone to benefit yourselves. Like that little lady over there-”

A shot. A singular shot rang out that had Changbin jumping in shock wide eyed. Ugly screams echoed throughout the small walls as red dripped down to the floor, splashing onto Changbin as well. The client quickly cowered back into the corner, dropping the gun in the process. His hands flew up to cup his now missing lower jaw, the mandible bouncing pathetically on the ground in between Changbin’s feet.

“Holy. Shit.” Changbin exasperated jumping away from the bloody jaw. He looked up to you shocked, yet in awe wielding a S&W revolver, a thin wispy smoke came from the barrel.

You quickly pointed your gun at Changbin who brought his hands up in surprise.

“Don’t shoot,” Changbin stated calmly yet alarmed. 

“Get out, B,” he nodded, bending down to grab his gun quickly and headed towards the door. 

“After you,” he gestured to the door politely.

The client’s howls of pain can be heard echoing down the alleyway once the door has been opened. Changbin quickly shut him up with a singular bullet in between his eyes and closing the door behind him. 

The second the door closes, you swung your leg backwards at an arn in an attempt to roundhouse kick him. Changbin reacts by blocking the hit with his forearm. His other hand instinctively grabbed at your ankle. You attempted to catch you balance by shifting your weight from your other foot to your palms pressing against the cold asphalt.

“Nice moves,” Changbin smirked, letting out a sultry chuckle. You huffed in annoyance.

“I was wondering where did you manage to hide that big boy?” He asked referring to the gun.

“Ever heard of a prison purse?” you retorted.

“Jesus Christ, that was a lot of heat woman.”

“So?”

Changbin backed off with both hands in the air, dropping your leg in the process.

“Whatever,” you growled crawling forwards to jump back on your feet. “How did you know what’s my mission?”

“My mission was to basically off the guy, but you’ve already got that covered,” Changbin crossed his arms ignoring your question.

“So you were using me?”

“No I-” he tried to interject, but you didn’t give him the chance. 

“Just save it, B,” you stormed off, feeling betrayed and used.

~

It’s been a week after that incident. The both of you end up in the same club you’ve met, but never again frequented afterwards. On opposite sides of the club, you were drinking and partying on the dance floor, grinding on random men trying to ease the heavy feeling in your heart. Changbin was at the bar chugging down cup after cup of the hard liquor with a blunt between two fingers. Your mind was swimming in alcohol, but the only thing you can think of was how much you fucking missed Changbin and seeing his back turned to you at the bar only emphasized those feelings.

You slumped down next to him on the stool and he turned to look at you with wide eyes. You noticed the blunt in his hands and frowned and a pang of pain bubbled in your chest.

“I thought you didn’t do drugs…” you whispered out.

“It’s just weed,” Changbin scoffed.

You both turned away from each other, both suddenly finding their glass cups very interesting.

“I’m sorry,” the pair confessed simultaneously.

“Wait what?” Changbin breathed out looking at you bewildered.

“Why are you sorry?” You squeaked out, surprised.

“For using you…” Changbin confesses looking down and slumping his shoulders. “It wasn’t that I meant to use you, it was just the cards I was dealt. I hadn’t expected you to be the man’s hired bargainer. I was under the impression that he would show up himself due to the utmost importance of this trade.”

“Yes… I completely understand that. It wasn’t your fault, you were just doing your job. That’s why I wanted to apologize… I was being unfair to you…” you trailed off. “I missed you, Changbin-”

You tried to stop yourself, but it was already too late. The damage was done. Changbin visibly stiffened up. His drunken brain sobered up to the sound of his own name.

“W-Wait, B,” you stammered.

Suddenly, it is as if the world disappeared around Changbin. The blaring music and bass faded away to muffles in his ears. His heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears. He felt small and helpless. Alone in this dark world with a singular light shining directly at him.

“B?” you whimpered out, your fingers grazing his muscles lightly. “SpearB… I- I didn’t mean-”

Changbin swiftly backhands you without a second thought. Your eyes were wide as your head turned from the force of the impact. Your cheek was red and stinging but it was nothing compared to guilt eating away at your soul. He then storms off, leaving a heartbroken you behind.

“Han!” Changbin called out to his junior. Changbin’s booming voice tearing through the club bass made his junior jump and choke on the smoke from the bong he was ripping. “Give me some of the heavy shit.”

Han coughed, trying to catch his breath. “Are you sure, hyung? I thought you didn’t do drugs?”

“I just need to get blasted right now,” Changbin eyed the various items on the table: several bags of probably meth and cocaine as well as several syringes of heroin plus the bong sitting on his lap.

“I gave you a blunt earlier?”

“For fuck’s sake, Jisung, just give me some crack cocaine or some shit.” Changbin snapped sitting opposite of Han in the booth, and pulling out a credit card. Jisung sighed and slid a ziplock bag filled with white powder in front of him. Changbin grabbed a hold of the plastic and dumped a generous amount directly on the table. He used his credit card to separate the powder into several lines.

“You got a bill?”

“What happened to all your money?” his junior going at it again with his bong. 

“I drank it,” Changbin replied seriously.

“I don’t think you should be doing drugs with alcohol.”

“I don’t need a lecture, Han,” Changbin grumbled leaning forward, plugging up a nostril, snorting up a line. Changbin sighed in content. A euphoric feeling washed over his body, turning his brain into putty.

Everybody in this club probably have done drugs at least once, mainly weed, but it’s a drug nonetheless. Some kept at it. His junior, Han “J.One” Jisung, has prob hit every one at least once. Some didn’t like how the after effects outweighed the euphoric effects and dropped it entirely like his senior,  Bang “CB97” Chan. But besides this, everyone has their drug, the drug that will just click and consume their entire body and soul.

Unfortunately for Changbin. It was cocaine. His alcohol intake hastened effects of the drug and he found the feeling to be addicting and euphoric. He felt as if he was on Cloud 9 and in heaven. 

And he couldn’t stop.

~

“Hey,” a voice called out. “Hey!”

You jolted awake at the hand shaking your shoulder gently. You winced at the pounding headache you had. You looked up recognizing the pale man with crispy blond hair.

“Sorry to wake you up, but do you know where SpearB is?” he asked. You can pick out his ear candy Australian accent.

Right. You remember where you were. You tried to find Changbin after he stormed off at the club after him giving you a nasty blow on your cheek, but to no success. You lost him within the crowd of clubbers and there were too many men trying to lay their hands on you. So you went to his apartment and fell asleep at his door waiting for his return.

“Is SpearB not with you?” the blond asked.

“N-no?” you stuttered. “He never came home?”

“Shit,” the blond breathed out, running a hand through his hair. “That was not the answer I wanted to hear.”

“What is it…?” You tried to remember the Aussie’s name, but nothing came to mind.

“CB97,” he responded, leaning against the wall and throwing his head back. His skull bounced off the wall lightly as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. You gasped, eyeing the blond in front of you.

CB97? THE CB97? An enigma in the underground and one of the most powerful men to top it off? And you’ve slept with him and then you’ve slept with one of his guys and deeply hurt him. Your mouth gaped open as all that ran in your mind was that you were thoroughly fucked and not by a dick.

“Relax. I have no quarrel with you,” he responded, smiling softly to show that he has no ill intentions. What he said next made your racing heart drop straight down to your stomach.

“SpearB is missing.”

~

Changbin awoke in a cold sweat. His head was throbbing. Everything felt cold. He felt cold, yet his body was burning up. Sweat was running down his temples and his back in streams causing his shirt to stick to his skin uncomfortably. Changbin was sobbing, tears were running down his face. It felt as if there were a million fire ants crawling beneath his skin, nipping and gnawing at his flesh as the symptoms of withdrawal hit him hard and fast.

Changbin squirmed and thrashed only to quickly realize that he was in a chair with his arms and legs bound and chained at the wrists and ankles. His heart was hammering in his chest not necessarily from the fear of being bound and imprisoned, more so from the side effects of his withdrawals as he screwed his eyes shut.

“Good morning, sunshine,” a voice called out. Changbin peeked at the figure in front of him. He was stood in the dark with a singular hanging light over Changbin. Changbin could barely make out the blurry figure; all he got was that he was dressed in all black with a hood, mask and sunglasses.

“What do you want?” Changbin rasped out, his throat was dry and it felt like he was swallowing pins and needles when he swallowed in attempt to moisturize his throat.

“You should know what I’m looking for,” the man chuckled. “Tell me who are the rest of 3RACHA.”

“No.” Changbin responded firmly without hesitation. A loud crack ran through the air not even a second later. Changbin’s head was thrown to the side, eyes wide and a split cheek.

“I’d suggest you make this easier on yourself and just give me the names,” the man growled sliding on black latex gloves.

It’s been a daze. Changbin had no idea how much time has passed. His face was battered and bruised and blood was running down his nose in streams staining his lips and teeth red as he has a constant metallic taste on his lips. He’s currently sitting in isolation alone in the dark with the light off. The room was soundproof with no windows so Changbin hadn’t the slightest what is going on outside or even where he was. His entire body was burning up and trembling profusely from his drug withdrawals and his stomach constricted painfully yearning for food.

Soon a door opened and the familiar man walked in closing the door behind him.

“Care to talk now?” 

“No,” the man’s response was a swift kick to Changbin’s torso causing him to double forward to cough and wheeze.

“So, how was it in isolation? Are you thirsty? Does your back hurt from being slouched over for too long?”

Changbin could only merely glare.

“Here, let me help.”

The man carefully unbounded the straps on Changbin’s wrists and ankles and proceeded to drag him out by his forearm. He didn’t take him very far, just the next room over. The next room was as bare as the one he was in, save for a singular table in the center along with hanging LED lights that were currently off.

“Get on,” the man commanded. Changbin reluctantly complied due to the piercing pain in his legs. Changbin lied flat on the cool metal table as the man strapped him down once more.

“Aren’t I so generous? You must be tired sitting in the dark all day long,” his tone was apathetic as he turned to leave and flicked the light switch on. Changbin winced at the harsh light shining directly to his face as he screwed his eyes shut. Suddenly, he heard a rattling of a chain and the sound of a metal trap door opening. Before he can fully comprehend what was happening, his nose and mouth were suddenly flooded with water. Changbin gasped and sputtered after the first wave. Before he could fully recover, a second wave came in and it kept coming. 

“Do you want to talk now?” the man’s voice played through an intercom.

“Fuck. You.” 

“Wrong answer.”

Changbin got waterboarded once more.

~

“I gotta say. You’re pretty impressive. Your resilience and determination would be awe inspiring if not annoying,” the man started, forcing a taser into Changbin’s chest. Changbin was now strapped back to his original chair after the man failed at breaking him with the use of waterboarding.

“Since you don’t want to talk about the other members of 3RACHA. Let’s talk about you,” the man started, walking circles around Changbin. 

“You’ve always been on your own. Taking control of your own life. Never bowing down to anyone or anything, but somehow the great SpearB was managed to be tamed and now you’re under the command of CB97. CB97,” the man chuckled speaking out that code name. “CB97. Ever the enigma. Managed to strap down one of the finest underground hitman, SpearB and one other. So much influence and power, yet no one can touch him. Not even a name or a face have come to light.”

Changbin eyed the man with pure hatred and disgust.

“But it seems CB97 isn’t the way to go here. How about that girl who has no affiliation in the underground?”

Changbin’s breath hitched. The man smiled wickedly. “Jackpot.”

~

“How long has it been since he’s been missing?” you asked pacing back and forth in the dark room. 

“A little over a week now. J.One is out there hustling for as much info as he can get,” CB97 informed. “A part of me was hoping he just went away for a little while and then reappear.”

“It’s all my fault,” you blurted out. “I always end up sleeping my way into a fucked up position.”

“I’m not blaming you and neither would SpearB.”

“What makes you say that for certain?”

“Because he loves you.”

~

Howls of pain ripped through Changbin’s throat, his throat now as red and raw and the pulsating flesh on his fingers.

“Did you really think she cared for you?” the man growled, wrenching off another fingernail with pliers.

“You don’t know anything about her,” Changbin growled out.

“Probably not, but she knows you. Seo Changbin is it not?”

“How did you-”

“What do you think?” the man smirked, turning away and pulling out an unknown syringe, giving it a light press and flicking it to get rid of oxygen bubbles.

“No. Not-” Changbin was cut off by the man injecting the strange liquid into his arm.

“Seo Changbin. August 11, 1999.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Changbin’s vision was getting blurry as his head was turning to mush.

“Do you still believe that that girl is innocent? She only does what she does to benefit herself. Why do you think she has no affiliations? Why do you think she’s been keeping the fact that she knows your real name from you?”

Changbin’s head slumped forward in defeat.

“Now… tell me their names or I can bring her to you so you can watch her break.”

~

“You can’t be serious, Changbin? Even now you refuse to speak even with that drug I’ve injected and a knife deeply embedded in your thigh?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Changbin spat his blood at the man.

“I’ve had enough of you!”

“How ironic,” Changbin chuckled. “You’re trying to break me, but you’re the one breaking.”

Changbin couldn’t see the man’s face, but he could imagine the scowl he’s wearing and dilated eyes. The man growled and pulled out the knife. Changbin bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He wouldn’t give his captor the final satisfaction of hearing his cry. The man brought the blade to Changbin’s neck, prompting him to bring his head up to glare at the man.

Before the man could do any damage, a muffled explosion went off in the background. The room shook slightly as dust unsettled from the ceiling. The door was busted open and in comes in CB97 and J.One, both wielding guns.

“Y/N,” CB97 called out. “SpearB out of here. We’ll take care of this mess.”

You appeared behind pair, nodding softly and rushed towards Changbin who passed out. His body finally shutting down after seeing the familiar faces, knowing that he was being saved.

~

Changbin wakes up some time later. His lips were chapped as he panted for air through his dry throat. Changbin’s eyes were bloodshot and heavy bags decorated his eyes. His head snapped up feeling a light pressure on his thigh.

“How are you feeling, B?” you asked softly, bandaging up his thigh.

“You.”

“B?-”

“Did you think you can take advantage of me? Just use me for your own benefit?”

“SpearB, please-” 

Changbin cut you off by flipping both your positions.

“What’s wrong? You take advantage of men by sleeping with them and seducing them? Look, I’m in just my boxers.”

“SpearB, stop. You were drugged, just go to sleep and we’ll talk-”

Changbin shut you up with a harsh slap.

“Talk? Just like how you talked to that guy who kidnapped me?” Changbin growled pulling your shorts and panties in one fell swoop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried placing a hand on his chest to get him to slow down. Changbin very quickly pinned both your wrists above your head with a single hand, the other running up your (his) hoodie raking his fingers over your bare flesh. 

“Quiet and take it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to obey him. You let out a shaky exhale when you felt a sharp pressure from down below. You winced once he began snapping his hips against yours without giving you any time to adjust.

“Did you really think you could take advantage of me like that? How does it feel now when the shoes on the other foot?”

“No, please. Just listen- Aah!” he cut you off with a particularly hard thrust. “P-please, that’s not how I truly feel about you. I meant what I said back at the club.” 

“Yeah? Then how do you feel?” he growled out.

“I would die for you.”

“Then perish.” Changbin’s eyes darkened as it bored into your soul. He pulled out of your throbbing heat as it pulsated lightly with pain. His sharp gaze looked at you expectantly as you sat up and curl into yourself feeling so exposed and little under his gaze.

You gasp out, nodding solemnly. You delicately pulled out a pocket knife from your discarded shorts you kept on you for self defense. You start just below your jawbone to the left and began slicing, blood is pouring out as the stainless steel blade sliced through skin, flesh and muscle like butter. The sight of the brilliant red liquid spewing out sobers up Changbin a bit. Changbin stops her by grabbing her wrist preventing further damage.

“Why did you stop me?” you seethed, tears pouring down your face.

“Because I didn’t think you were actually going to do it!” He snaps, gritting his teeth together. His breath fanned over your face, his eyes red and bloodshot.

“Let me go, Changbin,” you sniffled, forgetting why you were in this position in the first place.

The sound of his name escaping your lips fueled the burning rage within him. Memories of the club played through his mind like a broken record. The breathy sound of his name escaping your lips mixed in with the loud blaring bass of the club and the chatter of the surrounding clubbers. He finally realized the humiliation of having that last thing he held sacred been outed to the world, leaving him feeling small and vulnerable like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP,” he shouts like a mantra. “Don’t say that name like you OWN ME!”

You tried to back up and crawl away, but the throbbing pain in your nether regions and your putty legs made it difficult.

“B… SpearB, I’m sorry,” you sobbed out.

“JUST SHUT UP!” He very quickly overpowered you and bringing you down flush to the ground with his weight. 

“Just shut your whore mouth!” At this point, all Changbin saw was red. His large hands quickly wrapped around your small neck. Tears were dripping from his ducts, the droplets landing on your cheeks. You gasped and gurgled as you clawed his wrists to get him to let go. Crimson red began dotting at his wrists from where your nails broke skin as it slowly rolled down and joined the crimson fluid that was gushing through his fingers from your neck.

“Just shut up,” he sniffled, his voice cracking and breaking at the last word. Your eyes were blown out as tears free flowed down your temples soaking you messed locks. Drool was also dribbling out of the corner of your mouth.  

Suddenly black dots began appearing within both your visions for you from oxygen deprivation and for changbin from the side effects finally kicking in. Darkness finally enveloped the pair and Changbin slumped over your body as the light from your eyes faded and you took your final breath.

Daybreak broke, CB97 and J.One found their way into Changbin’s apartment.

CB97 very quickly notices a very naked Changbin and a semi naked you on the floor. He quickly rushed forward pulling Changbin off of you and attempted to shake him awake. J.One carefully pulled down the material of your (Changbin’s) hoodie to cover yourself and pressed his fingers against your neck hoping to find a pulse. He looked up at CB97 and shook his head.

Changbin wakes up in a slight daze, trying to get a footing of what happened last night. His head was throbbing as he blinked multiple times trying to get rid of the blurriness. What was discerning to him was how he could not for the life of him remember anything that happened after he passed out in that chair. Soon his vision focused on the blank stare of your body beside him.

“Y/N?” he whispered out. 

“Y/n? Y/N!” he struggled out of CB97’s grip and shoved J.One aside, sending his junior flying backwards straight on his ass.

Changbin tries waking Y/N up by shaking her shoulders vigorously but to no avail. Quickly Changbin pressed an ear to her chest.

“She isn’t breathing!” Changbin sobbed. “Save her!” 

CB97 and J.One attempt to pry him off you.

“Changbin stop! She’s gone.”

Changbin got out of their grip and rush over to you, cradling you softly in his arms as if you were made of glass.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry Y/N…” 

All CB97 and J.One could do was watch their friend in pity.

[veridium]

stolen

Well, friends, what kicks off a weekend better than a College AU update? Titled after one of my favorite songs of all time, and definitely one of the best kinds of love songs to describe Cass and Liv, the dashboard confessional classic. :)

Fall Carnival fun pt. 2 commences now!

last chapter // fic masterpost

--

There’s walking on glass and eggshells, and then there’s the week Olivia has leading up to the fall carnival. Ellinor deserves a medal of service for dealing with her each and every day, hour by hour, every time something unsettles her anxiety. She had told her everything was fine when they were shoving sushi into their mouths and laughing about fish puns. If only she could hold onto the same kind of half-optimistic, half-resigned sensation she felt then. 

It’s not that Cassandra is mean, or even insensitive. Despite Olivia’s incessant ranting and brooding, she can’t really say it’s because of cruelty. 

The day after her and Ellinor’s sushi date, she texts to check in. Cassandra replies, answering her questions, and nothing more. Olivia once again restricts herself from prodding, and comes back to her dorm to complain to Ellinor. That night she receives texts from friends insisting that they meet up at the Carnival at some point to take a fall aesthetic selfie. The dread grows. 

Then it’s Thursday. To her surprise, Cassandra texts her first.

Cassandra: Hey, will you be around at 12? I have office hours, I thought we could have lunch. 

The cup runneth over -- too bad her request collides with a final project meeting, and by God, Liv  will not give her team more of an opportunity to disappoint. She was the one who scheduled it, set up the shared Google Doc, and delegated responsibilities. If she ducked out, the whole thing would come apart. So, as much as it makes her want to cut four of her fingers off, she tells Cassandra no. Of course, Cassandra isn’t one to give grief. 

Cassandra: No problem, just thought I would offer. Have a good meeting!

Later that night, Olivia takes some initiative. The Carnival is the next day and if Cassandra isn’t feeling it, she would rather go alone or not go at all than try to force it. Cute pictures would never be worth it, and Olivia has grown up experiencing enough cringey, orchestrated “outings” to last a lifetime. She paces the floor of her dorm after sending the text, expecting one of dozens of possible reasons. After all, who wants to endure a Carnival with an ankle boot on?

Apparently, Cassandra does. 

Cassandra: Yeah! Cullen and the team have been looking forward to it for weeks. I don’t see why not. 

Olivia stares perplexed at her screen. Okay. Okay? Okay. That’s it, then. They’ll go, and it’ll be great. Except it won’t be, because in that split second, she’s already charted in her head all of the awkward and potentially conflictive situations that could happen. What if Cassandra gets there and her mood changes? What if she wants to get on a ride, but can’t because of her injury? What if she loses at a Carnival game and it sets her off? What if someone makes fun of her? What if she trips and falls?

As if by divine providence, she gets a phone call during her spiral. And it’s none other than Theia, finally getting back to her after over a week of radio silence. Olivia doesn’t waste time asking what happened between her and Josie, but Theia doesn’t have much to offer:

“It’s a break. That’s all I can really say,” she says, voice going low while she’s on speaker phone. “It’s a long story. I’d rather not get into it tonight.” There’s a loopy sound, like the swig of a bottle.

Olivia, scrunching her face while she sits on her bed, figures she should change the subject. She tells Theia she needs to vent to someone else besides Ellinor about what is going on with her, and Theia is the only other person who’d understand. The only other person who would be able to provide any insight as to what is upsetting her so viscerally. 

When she gets to the bottom of it, Theia doesn’t speak immediately. The quiet pondering scares her, like the ominous stillwater before a gator attack on those Discovery channel shows. 

“Liv,” Theia finally says, reluctant like she’s a Doctor about to break some terminal news, “you’re gonna hate me for saying this.”

“What? No!” she disagrees. “Not at all, please, help me out here. I’ve been stewing all week.”

“Well…” she chuckles nervously, “you sound just like you did when I first met you.”

Theia doesn’t have to elaborate. The phrase is code for  “a couple years ago,” which comes with its own subtext, one everyone who’s gone through what she has can understand. The phrase has grown from “a few months,” to “last summer,” to “last year,” and now she’s here. Time sucks ass. At least in Theia’s use of it, it doesn’t come with the same feigned accepting grief that Olivia’s Mom has when they’re at “gatherings” with “loved ones” who Olivia hasn’t ever seen before. 

Her cheeks go hot and she tosses the phone onto the comforter and looks away, as if she’s eluding the discerning gaze of a close friend. Theia knows better.

“I know you hate me,” she says, vindicated. “But, you know. The fretting, and the worrying about things that haven’t even happened to her. You’re trying to figure out her needs before she even says them. That’s how you sounded every time I’d be on the phone with you during break. You’d just...completely turn everything on for him, then your Mom.”

Olivia criss-crosses her legs, and picks at the tufted fabric of her old pajama bottoms. “Yeah.”

“Hey, you good?” Theia is quick to check, her tone more concerned. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”

“Warned me for what?” Olivia smirks and rubs her neck. “Trigger warning: your own damn life?”

“I mean...yeah. That’s kind of how it works.”

“Not always,” she replies, and picks up the phone. “It’s fine, Theia. I appreciate your honesty.”

Theia lets out a discomfited sound. “Maybe you should...I don’t know. Maybe it’d be best to tell her. Unless you think you can figure this out on your own. It’s up to you.”

“Yeah, it is,” Olivia nods, trying to convince herself simultaneously. All this time she’s been so worried about getting to the bottom of Cassandra’s issues, she’s scarcely thought about the consequences of her own. As if only one of them had baggage to bring around. No shit, Olivia owns her own baggage terminal. Silly for her to believe it would just go away if she just cared enough about someone else’s problems. No matter how many times she tried that trick, it never worked. 

Her and Theia manage to wrap up their talk on kinder, easier terms. Both of them acknowledge they aren’t in a place to be fully open. Agreeing to be patient with each other, they hang up, and Olivia collapses back on her bed to overthink things while staring off into the ceiling. 

This can be a really happy time, if you just let it. She thinks it, over and over, like a song lyric. Just let it. 

--

The next day, Ellinor’s glee and the prospects of fun lighten her up. She puts on one of her favorite dresses, a tea-length button-up dress with short sleeves and a ribbon around the waist. It has a print, blue and white small flowers, and flows at every little move she makes. When Ellinor sees it, she damn-near tips over. 

“You’re wearing that?” she asks, slipping her coat on. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Olivia smirks, and the back of her throat stings with nerves. She locks the door to her dorm and then drops them into her black denim jacket. Just a little touch of the normal aesthetic. 

“It’s the carnival!” she replies, “gotta dress to the occasion.”

“Hah, well, Cass will probably...hey,” Ellinor tries to say something funny, but seeing the immediate change on Liv’s face, she stops herself. “Everything okay?”

Olivia blinks. “Yeah! Yeah. Just distracted by something. Um,” she checks her phone. No messages. “Let’s hurry, parking will be a nightmare.”

--

Whatever Ellinor meant to say about Cassandra’s reaction, she was likely spot on: the minute they see each other in their kitchen, it’s like the world freezes. The first time she’s seen her all week, and Cassandra looks just as beautiful as she looks in Olivia’s memory. Black leggings and a knit, sangria-colored sweater with a dress shirt underneath, all neat and fresh looking. They stand facing each other silently while Cullen and Ellinor are off somewhere making various happy noises, giggling and joking. 

Olivia feels the strap of her string purse slipping and adjusts, her grip on it atop her shoulder turning deadly. The way Cassandra is acting confirms it: she knows its strange, too, that it’s been this long. But, as she always does, Olivia finds the words. 

“Y-ou ready?” she asks, offering a smile. 

Cassandra returns it. “Yeah! I just have to go and get my jacket.”

“Oh, you want me to--”

“No, no, don’t worry,” she says kindly, “I’ve got it.” She’s walking easier than she did the first day. Still an uneven sway, but she’s about as fast as she would be without it. She goes and comes back from her room, a fresh new team jacket over her arm. Shit, they must have got their team jackets?

She’s met in the living room with Cullen and Ellinor, who are also ready to take off. And so, with grins and happy laughs from all, they head out. 

--

The entire drive Olivia is trying to walk herself back off the mental ledge. Now that she’s aware of what she’s doing, or at least more aware, it’s almost worse. How can she tell her new girlfriend that she’s lapsing into something that’s taken her 3 years of on-and-off counselors for her to know is even real? When she’s not thinking about that, she’s thinking about how she should have been more honest with her, especially when Cass was raw about her own issues. Then she feels unreasonable for her expectations, and then…

In the middle of it, her gaze wanders to the center console, and then to the left, where Cassandra is seated. She’s sitting there, and then she feels Olivia’s gaze and looks over, and she smiles. She’s smiling, and she’s looking so happy in the sunlight shades changing so fast as the car goes fast downtown. 

Hands gathered against her waist like a kid on a school field trip, she grins back. 

Next thing she knows they’ve arrived, and Ellinor and Cullen are romping in the parking lot like spring yearlings, egging each other on for donuts or something. They’re so happy it almost rots her teeth. Ellinor tries to stick with the group, and before Olivia can ask her to stay, Cassandra surprises her and waves them off. That’s all the lovebirds need to fly off. 

Olivia takes a stiff breath and slips her aviators on. Who would have thought being alone with Cassandra after the week she’s had would be the exact opposite of what she wanted?

“Well, we better catch up, right?” Cassandra smiles again -- she’s smiling so much -- and slides her hands in her jacket pockets. 

Olivia looks over, nods, and goes forward. “Yeah! Yeah.”

“Everything okay?” Cassandra asks as she starts walking. “You seem anxious.”

“I...I am, a bit.”

They’re near the entrance when Cassandra stops. Olivia jerks and turns around, immediately admonishing herself. “Am I going too fast? I’m sorry, shi--”

“No,” Cassandra shakes her head. She’s reaching into her pocket. “My wallet is just stuck in the pocket. Give me a sec.”

Oh. That’s...that’s okay. Ok. Everything’s good. 

“You don’t have to worry about getting your wallet out,” Olivia says, grabbing her purse. “I got us!”

Cassandra furrows her brow and meets her gaze. “What? You sure? It’s not a big deal, I…”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Olivia puts in the effort for a sweet smile. She already has her wallet out and ready by the time Cassandra gives up grabbing hers. 

“Oh, okay then.”

They get in through the ticket stand without trouble. Once they’re in, it’s a marathon for the senses: spices and sugary treats freshly made and slathered lace the air, groups of people in bright autumnal hues exchanging cotton candy and stuffed animals. Music plays low and abundantly on speakers staked throughout, echoing the party of the open dance floor and festival stage somewhere through the fray. Machines and games ring out their sirens, with all the bells and whistles. Far beyond the front is the ferris wheel towering over the rest of the park yard and its sea of striped spotted tent roofs. It’s paradise for a bunch of young hearts with sweet teeth and salty energy levels from a semester nearly concluded. 

Olivia and Cassandra walk at a glacial pace. Cassandra looks just as endeared, scanning slowly from side-to-side, a carefree expression on her face. She looks so much more content than the last time Olivia saw her in a celebratory crowd. She’s cooler than cool. They walk beside each other so closely their shoulders bump, and ever so often one glances over and the other smiles in reassurance.

Then, because of course, they are hollered at by familiar faces. 

“Cass! Liv!” 

Lysette is walking over -- no, sauntering -- complete with what looks to be a giant inflatable hammer under her arm, and an ember-colored soda bottle in the other. She looks like a fabulous lumberjack, flannel, belt, boots and all. And a smug face of victory. 

“High Striker champion strikes again?” Cassandra asks with a clever laugh. 

Behind Lysette, a man looking like Rylen...or, sounding like Rylen, the way he’s cussing, is taking his turn at the game. Surrounded by several other bros, all chuckling and gesturing towards him as if to give pointers. Pointers he’s definitely not taking. 

“Agh, what can I say,” Lysette shrugs, looking over her shoulder. “He’ll be the last to call himself a loser.”

“That’s for sure.” Cassandra tilts her head, brow raised. “He’s lucky I’ve retired.”

Olivia gapes a little at the tall machine. “You played that?” 

Lysette laughs and hits Cassandra playfully on the shoulder with her balloon trophy, which Cass brushes off while smirking. “Cass taught me the magic,” she corrects proudly and takes a swig, “it’s from her that I inherited this heavy crown.”

Olivia’s brows lift into outer space as she looks over at her girlfriend, thinking of course she would, and Cassandra looks modestly self-satisfied. 

“Eh, well--” Lysette is interrupted by Rylen’s roar. They all turn around and see him, huffing and puffing like the wolf from the three little pigs story, strike hammer in hand. 

“Lys, you get your ass ov--h-hey! Liv! Cass!”

Olivia waves a little sheepishly. Cass nods. Lysette takes another glug of her beer. Poor Rylen couldn’t be gesturing toward a more unimpressed crowd of women. But, never one to be discouraged, he struts over swinging the thing like a baseball bat. 

“Either of you wanna take me on for the Striker?” he asks it generally, but his eyes stay on Olivia. The petite dancer, of course. Easy target. 

“Almost didn’t recognize you in the dress, Liv. C’mon,” he says, holding it out to her. “Take a swing!”

Olivia lets out a cautious laugh, and gently pushes the hammer away. Before she can give an excuse, Cassandra inches closer to her, until their sides are up against each other. It sends an excited chill down her spine. 

“Don’t get her caught up in your losing streak, Rylen,” Cassandra defends her. 

“Yeah,” Lysette snickers, “no need to pull innocent lives down with you, dude.”

Rylen looks sincerely confused at this disrespect, spreading his arms out wide to puff out his chest. “Ya’ll just don’t want to mess with the hometown glory!”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Olivia giggles, taking the opportunity to slide an arm around Cassandra’s waist. Cassandra is steady and warm. Irresistable. 

“We’re going to walk around some more before getting looped into games,” Cassandra says to Lysette, who happily nods and side-steps toward Rylen. 

“Come on,” she says, nudging him, “I’m not done with my streak.”

Liberated, Cassandra and Olivia turn to the left and walk on, her arm staying around her and Cassandra sending hers over Olivia’s shoulder. It’s one of the first acts of public affection they’ve done in a place like this. Well, that is, as a definite couple. The milestone is not lost on Liv, who for the first time since waking up in the morning has started to let the anxious “what if’s” slide. Cassandra isn’t dodging her, nor is she ignoring her. She’s here, she’s cheerful, and they’re here, together. The way Olivia’s head fits against the crook of Cassandra’s neck is perfect. 

“He was right about one thing,” Cassandra says as they walk down an aisle of stands. “You in a bright blue dress feels like a rarity.”

Olivia smirks and folds some wisps of hair behind her ear. “I live to shock and amaze.”

“That you do. You hungry?”

“Actually, kinda. I was hoping we could go to--”

“--the funnel cake stand?”

Olivia freezes and pulls away just a bit, just to be able to look up at her with eyes wide and mouth open. Cassandra looks back at her, a bit surprised. 

“Yes…” Olivia says slowly, “but the only flavor that is valid is…” 

Cassandra, catching the hint, chuckles softly. “Strawberry.”

“Agh!” Olivia lays her head back and smiles, leaning into her some more like before. “See, babe, it’s the little things that get me.”

Cassandra’s chuckling continues to bubble as she wraps her arms around her. As she pulls her in, she mumbles a soft caution: “careful, easy on me.”

Olivia is eyes closed and latched onto her like a koala when she hears it, and immediately backs off like they’re suddenly magnet ends.  

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! Ugh, I forg--”

Cassandra tilts a bit in reaction to the sudden shift of weight, and takes hold of Olivia’s flailing hands before they make her airborne. “Hey! Easy!”

Hands secured and attention obtained, Olivia once again freezes in a state of stress. 

“Liv, I’m okay,” Cassandra comforts with confidence. “I’m not a piece of fine china.”

Olivia can feel the embarrassed blush as she relaxes her arms. They stay linked, Cassandra rubbing the back of her hands with her thumbs. 

“I...I know that, I so know that,” Olivia repeats, “I’m sorry. I’m s--”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Cassandra adds, further dispelling the worry. 

“No, yeah. Yeah,” Olivia shakes her head fast, almost dizzying herself if not for Cassandra’s close presence. “Um, listen. Uh, hm…”

Cassandra blinks. “You okay?”

She looks so open, so understanding. Liv could tell her, she could just say it. Or, she could have a bit more mercy for her and not unload all of this on what is supposed to be a good, lighthearted night out. But would it help the stone in her gut, or the noiseless but deafening sensation in her head, between her ears? Will it make the dull but deep sense of dread subside?

“Cass, I…” her voice shakes a bit. Now she’s starting to become overwhelmed by all of the sensory overload and busy energy around them. Her cheeks go from hot to cold. 

“Olivia,” Cass says softly, coming closer. There’s a new look in her eyes, one that is least lost and confused. “We should go over to the picnic tables, okay? Just hold onto my hand and follow me.”

Olivia follows the instructions to the letter. After all, it isn’t exactly an unthinkable task holding onto her and letting her take the lead. Cassandra leads them over to where a few picnic tables form a semi-circle facing the venue, all but one taken up by people. It’s as if the last empty one was reserved especially for her unpredictable episode should she need it. 

But this isn’t an episode, right? God, she hopes not. 

“Have a seat,” Cassandra requests. Olivia, ever the dissenting queer, sits on the edge of the picnic table rather than the bench seats on either side. Her hands clamp on the wood while Cassandra stands in front of her, taking off her prized new jacket. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

“The thing that happens in every teenage romance film pre-dating 2005,” Cassandra replies. She then loops the jacket up and around Olivia’s shoulders. It’s a size or two bigger than she would wear, which makes it perfect. Olivia’s spine goes straighter than she’s ever been in her life, and she clutches the ends of it against herself like a blanket. 

Cassandra rubs up and down Olivia’s arms, slow but vigorous. The athlete is showing. “There.”

Olivia, feeling so sheepish she could be cast as an extra for a Charlotte’s Web remake, stares and rolls her lips shut. She feels better, but if she doesn’t let herself breathe, it’ll all surely get worse. 

“Are you in a place to tell me what’s going on, or should I just distract you?” 

Olivia’s fast becoming enthralled in just how prepared Cassandra is. If only she could say marveling at her was distracting enough without sounding corny. Yet, she’s asked the million-dollar question: can she say it, or should she? Without thinking, her gaze flashes to either side of Cassandra’s shoulders toward the crowds. Cassandra notices and immediately hooks a finger under Olivia’s chin.

“Olivia, don’t worry about them,” she says and guides her attention back to her. Butterflies. 

Olivia parts her lips and lets herself sigh. “I can’t.” She takes hold of her hand and guides it to rest in both of hers in her lap. “I wish I could, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Not here. We’re supposed to be having a good time.”

“What we are supposed to be doing doesn’t matter.”

“I know, but, I’m okay. I just need a second. I promise.” She says it honestly. She can enjoy this, if she just gives herself permission to without scolding at every turn for mistakes she had no intention of making. “Just a minute to cool down.”

“Okay.” Cassandra turns and slides onto the table right next to her, for which Olivia gladly scoots over. She lets go of her just so she can hold onto the jacket again. The sun is heading toward the mountains in the distance, but the evening is still far out. 

After a moment’s silence -- well, silent as one can get amid a fall carnival -- Olivia takes her first solid breath. The feeling in her throat is cooling down, and the tension in her chest is releasing. Her wandering eyes go across from the horizon to the next tallest thing: the ferris wheel, where it looks like a couple very similar to Ellinor and Cullen are in one of the carts. If only she could see past the obstruction of a giant stuffed animal. 

Knowing them, that probably confirms that it is, in fact, them. It makes her snort. 

Cassandra picks up on the reappearance of good humor. “Feeling better?”

In return Olivia looks over and gives her perhaps the first real and relaxed smile of the entire day. “Yes, a lot. Thank you.”

Many yards away, near a ring toss stand, two people begin to wave. Olivia zeroes in and sees that one has a beautifully-crafted side-braid of black hair and a fabulous ruffled coat. The other is a less-familiar face, but not a stranger’s.

“Oh, Josie!” Olivia says, and waves back. Josie is holding a smaller stuffed animal, bright pink, looking like a teddy bear. The other person says some words to her, looking like a question. 

She looks happy. That’s good. 

“Where’s Theia?” Cassandra asks, sticking a pin in the moment without even knowing. 

Taking another breath, Olivia leans her shoulder into hers and groans. 

“Am I missing something?” 

Olivia sighs. “You and me both. I’ll explain later.” Her phone dings from her bag. She looks up and sees Josie and her company gone, only to look down at her phone and have an answer: 

Josie: I hope we can link up before either of us leaves and take a pic! You both look adorable!

She hums in speculation, and replies: 

Olivia: Yes please!! 

With one click and toss, her phone is back in her back, and her sense is back in her head. Ariana Grande’s song “Tattooed Heart” has started to play on the Carnival DJ speakers. 

“I love this song,” she smiles, and sways a little to the beat. “How are you feeling?”

Cassandra rolls her shoulders as she leans back a little. “Great, I have no complaints.”

“Really?”

She takes one look at Olivia’s hopeful look and bites the side of her lip. “I mean, I still have my expectations. Firstly, the funnel cake. Secondly, I do want to see you take a swing at the High Striker. Third, I--”

“Oh, what!” Olivia scoffs playfully, “That hammer looks taller than me and about as heavy!”

Cassandra smirks. “With me coaching you, Love, you can’t lose.”

Butterflies, part two. “I...suppose you have a point. But if it’s gonna happen, I’ll need that funnel cake to help hold me down.”

“Deal.”

Love. I like that nickname. Hell, I’d change my name to it, why not?

She hops down with her spirit anew, and helps Cassandra back onto her feet. Just a little help, as a treat, since Cass is right: she isn’t fragile, and Olivia doesn’t have to worry. Watching the people she depends on for strength deal with physical limitations doesn’t always have to be a crisis. It might have been in the past, but the here and now is what matters. And she is allowed to believe that. 

They hold hands that gently swing as walk back into the crowds. It goes from feeling like a minefield to that scene in Rapunzel where she and Eugene are frolicking among the city folk. Friendly faces turn and offer smiles and “hello’s,” and they wave back. It’s easy. It’s effortless and thrilling at the same time. The popping and bell sounds are no longer menacing. The heat of the day is no longer suffocating. 

And, at last, they find their way to the main event: that beautiful funnel cake truck, with its beautiful plates bigger than her faze of fried dough, strawberries, and whip cream. After dousing it in powdered sugar because, of course you douse it in powdered sugar, she approaches Cassandra with a bit of purposeful mischief.

Smart to the look, Cassandra raises a brow, holding her fork in ready. “You pull anything, Sinclair, and it’s war.”

“Whaaat?” Olivia asks coyly, pinning her own fork between her teeth and smiling. She’s holding the plate in both hands like a holiday pie. 

“You know what. Don’t even think about it.”

“I just thought maybe you could do a little taste test a--AAH!” she can’t even get the tagline out before Cassandra strikes the first blow, scooping a dollop of cream onto her fingers and smearing it across Olivia’s nose and cheek. She squeaks in a pitch nearly at Ellinor-level, and stands there, shocked and holding the pie while her fork falls from her mouth onto the plate. Eyes wide, mouth agape, and face whipped. 

She can’t believe it. Cassandra, standing there, smug and unable to run. But it’s not like she would, anyway. The woman stands and is judged for her crimes just as she is for her wins. 

“I…” Olivia huffs, “Did you just seriously…?”

Cassandra, folding her arms with one hand going to her mouth as she only half-conceals her kind of playful grin, only plays dumb: “What? I have no idea what you are referring to!”

“Is this revenge for the ice cream?”

“I would prefer to call it a preventative measure.”

“Preventative...for what? I was only going to feed you the first bite!”

Cassandra’s eyes narrow. “Sure, Olivia, sure.”

“I was! Dammit, I was being a nice girlfriend! I swear!”

“I suppose we will never know, now,” Cassandra laughs and takes the napkins Olivia has in her hand, the ones she’s forgotten about during this heinous act of assassination. Carefully she unfolds it and hooks her finger under Olivia’s chin like before, only now she tilts it to the side so as to get the prime angle. 

“Hold still,” she’s still laughing a little as she wipes off most of the whip cream. Olivia’s eyes are adrift to the floor but she can’t resist glancing. Glancing turns to staring. A brief moment in time where everything is messy, but everything is wonderful. Cassandra looks so thoughtful, so kind. 

Such a pity, since she’s in for it. 

Striking just as quick, Olivia leans her cheek in and rubs it across Cassandra’s mouth and tip of her nose. Most of the mess is already off her face, but they can still share in the stickiness. 

“Ha!” She beams, bouncing back. “Rules of engagement are rules of engagement, Pentaghast!” She grabs her fork and points it at her like a defensive weapon. 

Cassandra chuckles and folds the napkin she had in half, looking down at the floor modestly like she knew it was coming. She isn’t mad, though. Far from it. And she definitely isn’t mad when Olivia offers to take the napkin from her and pay her due, cleaning off her face. 

“You know, sometimes,” Cassandra says more quietly, as Olivia finishes with one last brush along her chin for good measure, “I...I can be very bad at allowing someone else to take care of me.” The silliness has slipped from her tone. 

Olivia goes still, her hand full of scrunched, stained napkin still caressing Cassandra’s jaw. Their eyes meet, and in the hazel hue she can see it. She can see the recognition, the apology for the amount of little things that have become a pile of a bigger thing. She knows. She knew in the kitchen earlier that day, and she knows now. And for some reason Olivia, who has always been team “an apology means saying the words,” this feels like it means something deep. Something trusting and vulnerable. 

Something definitely forgivable. 

And so, tossing the napkin to the trash a couple feet from where they stand, Olivia grins wide and cuts into the plate of precious funnel cake until she skewers a perfect bite-sized piece of cake, cream, and berries. Then, holding it up for just a few seconds, she then stuffs it into her own mouth. She then holds the plate out to Cassandra, who grasps the plate edge with one hand. 

“Don’t worry,” Olivia says with a mouth half-full, “I suck sometimes at letting others care for themselves. Maybe we both need to learn when to just stuff our faces and let things happen.”

Cassandra, looking relieved and with fondness, begins to dig in with her own fork. “You might be onto something, there.”

Though she can never not overthink things, Olivia is happy to think ahead with this one: their edges and sharp points aren’t what they used to be. The intuition she had to just ride the wave and let things play out proved vindicated. It’s uncertainty that isn’t tragic. It’s hopeful. Is this what it feels like, then, to be falling in love?

Bring it on, Hammer Strike. 

[sweethazzababy]

Not So Professional- Chapter 2

Plot: Y/N gets the job as Harry Styles’s personal assistant. Working for him, she deals with the ups and downs of his career ranging from difficult breakups to music celebrations and everything in between. How will her and Harry’s relationship develop?

CHAPTER 1

A/N: YOU. GUYS. It has been very long since I’ve posted, and I feel so bad for leaving everyone with just one chapter up. Life got in the way lol and I honestly lost inspiration to write. Recently, I’ve been wanting to and I had some of this written already. I can’t promise you I’ll update every week or something, but I want to develop this story. Thanks guys :) 

P.S. I apologize for any typos...it’s 1 am as I’m finalizing and posting lmao

                                                    Chapter 2

Nervously typing each digit one by one, I anticipate the dreaded phone call with my mother. Her and I never really saw eye for an eye. We have completely different ways of viewing life, which always results in many arguments and pointless bickering. At the youthful age of 18, I had decided to move out after graduation and figure out life for myself. She of course, was absolutely livid. Ever since then, there’s been a lot of unspoken tension and distance. However, I miss her sometimes. She’s my mom, and although we have many differences I constantly wish we didn’t end things the way they ended those years ago. The only times I see her is for holidays, and every blue moon she’ll come to the city for lunch. Other than that, we don’t speak much at all.

But this news is something I have to tell her, especially since I’m going to be traveling the world assisting the world’s biggest heartthrob. Reluctantly, I take a breath and hold the phone up to my ear. Out of an anxious habit I tap my nails against the counter while rolling my ankle as my elbows rest on the granite. It rings a few times, and I start to pray she doesn’t answer. Until the ringing cuts and I hear a sigh.

“Y/N?” She sounds surprised. Shocked that I’m calling her at such a random time. My heart sinks at her tone and I realize how long it’s been. My mouth is dry and my mind is reeling, words jumbling in my head not knowing what to say back.

“Hi Mom. I-uh..I am calling um..because tomorrow there will be a uh, a big change.” I stumble, taking big gulps as I speak. My voice is trembling just a tad, and I know she can feel how nervous I am through the phone.

“What do you mean?” Her volume lowers, her voice timid. My fingers grasping my phone start to ache and I realize how tightly I’m holding it, knuckles turning white.

“I got offered um, a very, very large promotion… One I never expected and uh I was told today, but I’m leaving tomorrow… to London.” My rambling picks up as I speak, just wanting this conversation to be over. My eyes wander the room as I start biting my lip gently waiting for her response. I can tell she’s speechless, not knowing what to say.

“Oh wow…Y/N that’s, that’s amazing.” She breathlessly responds, a hint of pride in her tone. A small smile creeps onto my face, not believing this. She’s happy for me. Never in a million years did I think she would be proud of something I’ve done. She’s been holding a grudge ever since I left, ignoring every accomplishment I’ve had. But this time, she cares. And she’s proud. A few lone tears prick the corners of my eyes. Rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of my emotions, I wipe them away quickly.

“Thank you Mom…I’ll be assisting Harry Styles. I’ll be…traveling the world. This is something I have dreamed about.” I start getting more comfortable, telling her how excited I am.

The conversation continues on for only a few minutes, but my heart warms at the way it turned out. We said our goodbyes, she wished me luck and to send her pictures of the places I see. She finally sees that I’m successful and doing just fine on my own, even though I left her at such a young age. And that’s all I could have wanted from her.

                                               ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It’s about 6:00 now. I’m sitting on my bedroom floor with clothes and other miscellaneous objects scattered all around. Having to leave so last minute is incredibly stressful and I find myself not knowing whether to pack one item over another. Groaning in frustration I decide to get my Bluetooth speaker. Maybe playing some music will make this a little bit more enjoyable. As I’m scrolling through my lists of playlists on Spotify, a thought popped into my head. Rather than choosing one of my playlists I go to the search bar and type in “Harry Styles”. 

Curiously scrolling through his 10 songs, I click on the song Only Angel. Immediately a choir blasts through my speaker and it’s almost like a sense of euphoria is washing over me. A little bit of piano comes into play making the beginning even more dreamy. As I’m getting used to the angelic sounds, all of the sudden a shriek of some sort interrupts. My heart feels like it’s about to break from my chest, and I jump from the unanticipated change of sound. What I thought would be a relaxing tune, turns into a rock song. When he starts singing my breath start to hitch in my throat. I’m quick to notice the rasp in his voice, like I’m wanting more and more as he sings so passionately within the first verse.

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me I'll guess I'll be getting you stuck in between my teeth And there's nothing I can do about it

The attitude radiating from his lyrics is oddly attractive. I’ll have to admit that this is a lot different than his One Direction stuff, and like it even more. It’s refreshing to see a former boyband member go in a different direction other than pop. It tells me he appreciates really good music that actually uses instruments. I continue to listen to the album as I pack and can’t help but fall in love with his music. Sign Of The Times is a tear jerker. Once the chorus hit me, I felt like I was frozen in time. The production, the raw emotion in his voice, his gorgeous vocals. It all hit me like a bus and the next thing you know, I have tears running down my cheeks.

 But then I listened to From the Dining Table. Acoustics so soft and melancholy, his voice so low and quiet. The vulnerability and loneliness I felt from his lyrics took my heart and dropped it to the pit of my stomach. The hopefulness from the bridge as the melody and harmonies pick up that soon turned back into sadness as if all that hope vanished, left me absolutely breathless. The kind of pain he experienced, I hope he never has to go through again, oddly enough. His music makes me feel instantly connected to him, a power not many artists have. He’s an incredible musician, and I’m disappointed in myself for never realizing it earlier. I think back to the picture I was shown and my heart flutters again. With a voice and looks like that, let’s hope his personality is decent too.

                                                   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beep…beep…beep. My blaring iPhone alarm disrupts my sleep and my first instinct is to grab it and chuck it across the room so I can fall back into a slumber. I groggily turn over on my stomach shoving the pillow over my head, groaning hoping it would stop on its own as if it’s alive. Having enough of the disrupting noise making my ears bleed, I bring myself to roll on my side and grab my phone from my bedside table. While pressing the stop button I glance at the time. 7:00 AM. I know that it’s not super early, but on days I normally have off I developed a habit of sleeping in till 12. It’s like my body knows what day it is. My plane leaves at 1. I should leave my apartment by 11:45 to get to JFK and give myself some time before my plane boards. These thoughts are running through my head, as I’m trying to have some sort of plan for myself.

Mapping out my day in my head, I reluctantly get up and walk straight to the kitchen starting up my Keurig. Coffee is an absolute essential in the morning, or at any time for that matter. You don’t want to talk to me when I don’t have caffeine in my system. Luna comes trotting into the kitchen, her little legs moving at a fast pace giving me a bark good morning. Smiling, I pick her up in my arms and gently pet the top of her head as she licks my hand. My mom reluctantly agreed to take Luna while I’m away… to my surprise. It’s going to be hard not having her by my side like always.

After eating some breakfast and giving Luna her breakfast as well, I finish up the last of my packing. I throw on an oversized white sweater after my quick shower, feeling comfy for the long plane ride. I pair it with black leggings and throw on my black slip on Vans. Pulling my damp hair back into a French braid and putting on a little bit of makeup, I sigh realizing how soon I’ll be in a whole other country. At this point, it’s already 11:30. Before grabbing all of my bags, I give pick Luna up and cradle her into my arms. Holding her against me, I give a kiss to her head and I hug her a little too tight. My heart sinks at the fact that she has no clue what’s going on and she probably thinks I’ll be coming back after work like I usually do. I left a spare key for my mother so she’ll becoming by in an hour or so to pick her up. Opening my door, I give a last and longing look at my apartment and take a deep breath. Onto a new chapter in my life.

The airport is complete madness. I’ve always hated airports. The smells, the loud noises, people running to make it to their terminal while alsorunning into other people. Many times, I had to dodge myself from another person coming at me full force with a panic-stricken face. It’s about 12:45 so my plane could be boarding any minute. To occupy myself in the time I’ve been here I got myself another cup of coffee and read some magazines. There was an article about Harry Styles actually. Intrigued, I read it wanting to know more about the person I’m going to spend all of my time with. Something about a new fling. This boy is in the tabloids so much I wonder what’s true and what isn’t. No doubt, he’s a lady’s man.

Love on the Weekend, a song by John Mayer is playing through my headphones. The soothing tone of his voice and the calming melody helps keep me sane in the midst of such a fast-pace and crazy environment. Everyone else’s stress, stresses me out. As I’m reading through the magazine I hear the intercom notify us that my plane is now boarding. Grabbing all of my bags in my hands, I make my way onto the plane. London here I come.

                                                   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sudden bump of the airplane wakes me, along with some woman shaking my shoulder to tell me we’ve landed. Squinting my eyes because of the brightness I take a look out my window and see it’s pitch black. Oh. Right. It’s about 1:30 in the morning now.

I make my way off the plane into the UK airport. Jeff mentioned something about a car service coming to pick me up to take me to a hotel. Standing in front of the terminal my eyes are in a frenzy as I frantically look for a sign, anything, to let me know who is here for me. After about a minute of searching, I see a sign that reads “Y/N, Y/L/N”. Letting out a sigh of relief I walk over and shake the man’s hand. I have never had my own personal car service before so I’m pretty star-struck by all of this.

 “Good morning Ms. Y/L/N.” The kind man greets me with a pleasant and cheeky grin. I chuckle to myself realizing he said good morning. After all, it is 1am.

 “Good morning to you do!” I laugh, feeling a sense of comfort which is good since I’m in a huge country by myself

 After exchanging some small talk with my chauffer, we get into the vehicle. Completely forgetting how I’m in Europe, he opens the driver side door which happens to be on the right side rather than the left. Glancing out the window I try and see what’s outside, what London looks like. The blackness of the early morning is preventing me to see nearly anything though.

We finally pull up to the hotel, and I thank the driver while giving him a generous tip. This hotel is absolutely gorgeous. My eyes wander the room in awe. I walk inside with my bags and right away, a bell hop helps me out and gives me a cart to push everything. I walk up to the front desk and give them my name. Jeff also said he already booked about two weeks for me. I can’t be anymore grateful for everything he and his team have provided to make sure I’m comfortable. Eventually I’m going to use my savings and the money I make to pay for it myself and hopefully rent a small apartment here in London. I retrieve my room key and make my way up the elevator towards my room. After getting settled in, I lie in bed on my laptop. I received a few emails from Jeff informing me of the address and time I need to be at the office by. Seeing the time, I decide it’s probably a smart idea to get some sleep and turn off the light, close my eyes, and nervously await the next day.

                                                   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Stepping foot out of the car, I take a look at the building in front me. It’s quite small, definitely not as big SONY back in the States. I was told this was a casual meeting, so I wore a pair of dark skinny jeans, a nice blouse that shows off a tiny bit of cleavage, and black heels. I tried my best to look good since I am meeting Harry today. I just can’t get his face out of my mind. The way he smirks, his dimples peeking through completely erasing the intimidating look only to make him seem absolutely adorable. Shaking the thoughts from my head, I tell myself that this is a job. Professional.

 I walk into the building and meet up with Jeff. Finally meeting him in person, he has dark hair and dark eyes. Scruff on his chin and around his face forming a little bit of a beard. He has a youthful and relaxing glow to him, calming my nerves. There’s no need to feel so uptight

 “Ahh finally I meet the famous Y/N!” he gives me a big cheery smile and pulls me into a hug. I let out a giggle and return his hug.

 “I can’t believe I’m finally here…it’s so surreal.” I say breathlessly. He smirks, looking down at his feet and clasping his hands together.  

 “I know but trust me it’s an opportunity you wouldn’t want to miss.” He leads me down the hall and into a room with a few couches and a table. “I figured it would be a little bit more comfortable and casual to meet Harry in a place that isn’t a business room.” He explains to me, shrugging his shoulder.

 I feel the sweat on my palms start to kick in and rub them along my jeans. The nerves start to settle in at the thought of meeting Harry. Jeff and I talk a little bit before all of the sudden there is a quick knock on the door. My heart feels like it’s beating outside of my chest, assuming Harry Styles is standing on the other side of that door.

 “Yeah!” Jeff yells casually as he scrolls through his phone.

My eyes are peeled on the door when it opens, my teeth gently biting into my bottom lip. Harry walks in with that damn smirk on his face. He’s wearing a plain white t shirt, his tattoos running all along his left arm. My eyes try and keep up with all of them, trying to decipher each one. The swallows on his chest near his collarbones are peeking through the top. His pants are not what I expected from him. They’re black, high-waisted, and are extremely flowy and loose around his legs. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want a pair, noticing how comfortable they look. He has a pair of black sunglasses on the top of his head, pushing back his locks in the front. Curls are peaking through near his neck, behind his ears. So endearing.

He’s even more lovely in person.

Then finally, he sets eyes on me. His blue-green irises meet with mine and I feel my breath leave my body for a split second. As he’s staring at me, I notice his eyes glance down at my top, setting on the cleavage I’ve shown. He bites his bottom lip as he looks at me, and I can’t help but blush and look down at my feet. This interaction only lasted about 2 seconds, but it felt like it was moving in slow motion. He strides over to me and puts his hand out for me to shake

 “Hello. My name is Harry.” The deep and husky tone rumbles through his throat. He speaks at a slower pace and his eyes are even more mesmerizing close up. He gives me a little smile, dimples on full display, crinkles by the corners of his eyes. I grab his hand and return the shake, his palm engulfing my small one. The warmth radiating from his hand is a comfortable one, and it sends shivers down my spine. He has multiple rings on his fingers, something I find very attractive. After shaking hands, I immediately wipe my clammy hands against my legs once more.

“Hi. Y/N Y/L/N, your new personal assistant.” I say with a friendly tone, giving him a smile back. I tuck a loose strand behind my ear shyly. He takes note of it and gives me another smirk, chuckling to himself at my awkwardness.

 “Here, have a seat while we chat a bit.” His British accent is a little more obvious this time around. Jeff tells us he has to take a few phone calls and leaves the room. Harry sits opposite of me, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. The metal of the rings are glistening in the light, catching my eye. He has a ring shaped as an H and one as an S right next to it. Peering my eyes away, I try not to make my curiosity too obvious. The fact that he has personalized rings like that, makes me wonder how much money he actually has. I can tell he noticed my gaze, a small smirk forming on his face. But he doesn’t acknowledge it and continues with the conversation. We already have a nonverbal understanding of each other and I just met him.

 “So, tell me a bit about yourself Y/N. Obviously, we’re going to be workin’ with each other every day, so I figured I could get to know yeh now.” Harry rambles on, clearly unsure of what to say.

“Well, I-uh, I’m from New York City. I originally worked at the SONY headquarters, but obviously I’m not anymore.” Harry jokingly rolls his eyes and laughs at my comment. “Um, I have a dog named Luna, but my mother is taking care of her while I’m gone, and uh yeah.” I finish not really sure what else to say. I’m sure he can feel my awkwardness from here and my cheeks heat up at the thought. Why am I so embarrassing?

 “As entertaining as that was, that’s not what I meant.” Harry replies cheekily, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Blushing, I glance down at my shoes wanting to avoid his gaze because of my embarrassment.

“What are some favorite things of yours? Maybe we’ll find common ground or somethin’. I don’t know…like, your favorite ice cream flavor, or favorite movie. Both very important questions f’me if I’m honest.” Harry explains with a playful tone and I struggle to find the answers before I respond. I just feel so overwhelmed at this entire situation, and I think he can feel it too. “I want to get to know Y/N. Not Y/N Y/L/N from SONY.”

Harry looks into my eyes and gives me a comforting smile. He gives off such a calm and collective vibe that suddenly makes me feel a little less overwhelmed. I appreciate that. He makes it easy to talk to him. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for my answer. I giggle at the unprofessional and light-hearted reality of the situation.

 “My favorite ice cream would have to be either cookie dough or mint chocolate chip…” Before continuing on I observe his facial expressions. At the mention of cookie dough his eyes light up but right when I mention mint chocolate chip, he scrunches his nose in disgust which makes me giggle. “What, you don’t like mint chocolate chip?”

“Toothpaste doesn’t belong in ice cream.” He quickly insisted.

“I don’t think so either.”

“Then why do yeh like mint chip?” His confusion is so adorable, but I try and keep a straight face.

“Because… it doesn’t taste like toothpaste. Mint and chocolate is such a good combination, you’re really missing out.” The fact that we’re having a serious debate over ice cream is so funny to me, but it makes me excited to work with him.

“Nope, not at all.” He scrunches his nose once more, and my heart flutters at the cuteness. “Okay enough about ice cream, favorite movie?”

“My favorite movie? That’s such a hard one, I mean I love so many movies I can’t pick just one.”

“Sorry love, yeh gotta choose. For my sake.” He light-heartedly says,,

“If I had to choose, oh God this is so embarrassing…the Little Mermaid. It’s been my favorite since I was little and I idolized Ariel” I giggle at my ridiculous answer. I’ve always found it childish and a little bit embarrassing to say that my favorite movie is some animated Disney movie, but it was a huge part of my childhood and I still love it.

 “That’s actually quite cute that’s your favorite movie. But idolizing a mermaid? How’d you react when yeh found out they aren’t real?” Harry amusingly banters back. He runs his hand through his hair, lifting his sunglasses as he does so only to put them back on his head. Such a simple gesture, but it has me staring at the way his fingers glide through his locks. 

Easing back into a more comfortable position, he rests his arm stretching it along the top of the couch and lifting his leg to rest it across his thigh. His casual form makes me self-conscious about my professional appearance. Harry also seems to be enjoying our conversation, and that eases my subtle nerves. Butterflies form in the pit of my stomach at the sight of him.

“Really? Everyone always makes fun of me for it since I’m 24 and admitting my favorite movie of all time is a fucking princess movie.” Harry chuckles, crinkles by his eyes forming. “I also was devastated when my mom broke the news. 10 year old me was mourning over the fact that mermaids don’t exist. I felt like my whole world was crashing down.” I reply with a grin, a more playful tone in my voice. He lets out a burst of laughter, his smile so wide and contagious it makes me break into a bigger smile. 

“I’m curious, what’s your favorite movie?” I switch the roles, asking him. Giving a deep sigh Harry answers.

“The Notebook or Love Actually.” He says hesitantly. My jaw drops a little bit, surprised. His cheeks start to turn a shade of dark pink, expecting my surprised reaction. He lifts his hand and runs his fingers through his hair again, I’m assuming it’s a nervous habit.

“That makes me feel a lot better about my answer.” I joke with a laugh. “I can’t believe the famous Harry Styles’ favorite movie is a rom-com.”

“What can I say, Ryan Gosling is just too irresistible.” He jokes back, his eyes sparkling as we speak. I roll my eyes at the comment, shaking my head at the silliness of the conversation. The ease of our banter doesn’t go unnoticed and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.

“He is, isn’t he?” I sigh, the image of Ryan Gosling in my head. I never expected Harry to be as playful and amusing as he is. The tabloids make him out to be this intimidating popstar, but all I see is a normal guy with a witty attitude.

“Okay so as much as I love this conversation, I have to lay down the procedures and rules of the job.” Harry states, rolling his eyes. Already, I know he’s going to be pretty laid back about it. “I’m not gonna be one of those guys that order you around asking you to fetch me a coffee, or a muffin, or anything ridiculous like that. You’re a friend not an assistant. Just helping me along the way”

His sincerity is something I’m already admiring. Not to mention his complete and utter kindness. For someone so famous, I’m surprised at how humble he appears to be. Jeff walks in as we speak some more, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“How’s it going?” He asks, plopping down next to me. A small smirk is on his face, eyes wandering from me to Harry.

“Great! Should be fun.” Harry replies, but he keeps his eyes on me with a devilish smile, dimples appearing at each corner. Blushing I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. 

This is gonna be a ride.

A/N: Again, thank you for your patience! Let me know what you wanna see as I develop this story, I’m open to plot suggestions :) Also, let me know what you think in general, my DMs and requests are always open. Love you guys!!

If you haven’t yet, read Chapter 1 here

[roman-writing]

two, across (2/?)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Hilda Valentine Goneril / Lysithea von Ordelia

Rating: T

Wordcount: 7,678

Summary: Lysithea can barely keep afloat under the workload of giving undergrad lectures and finishing off her PhD thesis. Meanwhile Dr. Hilda V. Goneril is somehow both the laziest person as well as the most successful young professor she has ever known. It’s absolutely aggravating.

Read it here on AO3 or read it below the cut

The elevators are broken. All of them. Lysithea stands on the ground floor with Hilda, staring at the yellow tape suspended over each of the elevator doors. Her heart sinks in her chest, and her grip slackens on her coffee. 

"Can you believe this?" Hilda whines, punctuating her words with a stomp of her foot on the ground. "Do they expect us to clamber up Everest to get to our offices every day? What bullshit!"

"It's only seven floors." Even as Lysithea says it, she is furiously calculating how many steps that would entail.

How many steps were there per flight of stairs on average? Twenty-five? Thirty? She usually starts panting at around thirty, and has to take a break at forty. Edelgard always knew to take long walks around cities or parks with extra breaks. Lysithea didn’t know how many times she would have to stop while climbing seven whole flights of stairs.  

"Maybe we can work from some ground floor offices," Hilda muses, taking a contemplative sip of the coffee Lysithea had brought her that morning. "I could kick Leonie out of the gym office space, and we could work from there instead? It’ll smell, but it’ll just be for this week. Until they get the elevators up and running."

It's tempting. It really is. And Lysithea is ashamed of herself for seriously considering letting Hilda do just that. 

Eventually however, Lysithea sighs. "No. We should just suck it up, and walk up the stairs."

Hilda whines again, but she's already trudging towards the nearby door marked with the symbol for stairs. 

"This is so inconvenient!" Hilda groans, pushing the door open and holding it until Lysithea has joined her. "And, you know what? Leonie wouldn't even mind! I mean, yeah, okay. She would mind. But I could make a great sales pitch about how it's just turning every day into leg day for the next week. She might buy that!"

Hilda continues on in that vein, and Lysithea listens with only half an ear. The stairs extend ahead of her, looming like a snow-capped peak, except these are gilded in white linoleum. The chromed handrails gleam with the sweat of too many generations of hands passing over them. Lysithea is reluctant to touch them, but knows she will have to eventually. 

On the other hand, Hilda has already begun the climb. She is still talking, and has made it halfway up the first set of stairs before Lysithea can gather enough courage to even start. 

The first floor passes without much issue. Lysithea tries telling herself that it won't be so bad; she can do this. Hilda's constant chatter acts like a balm. Her presence is almost soothing, in and of itself. 

The second floor is where Lysithea's hubris realises its potential. Her breath has grown laboured. She reaches for the handrail. Hilda is ahead of her by a good distance, but they're still on the same set of stairs together at least. 

By the third floor, Lysithea feels an all too familiar twinge in her chest.

By the fourth floor, Hilda's voice fades into a murmur of white noise, like static. 

By the fifth floor, Lysithea drops her coffee. She doesn't mean to. Her hands are trembling uncontrollably, and the takeaway cup slips from her fingers. The coffee goes splattering all over her shoes and black stockings. The cup tumbles down the stairs until it rolls to a halt and dribbles dark foam. 

Hilda's voice stops, and an awful silence descends over the fifth floor staircase. Lysithea is panting. She is bent over her knees, and clutching the handrail like it's a buoy keeping her afloat. 

"Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah," Lysithea lies. She turns and sinks to the ground so that she is seated on the step she had just been standing on. She doesn't even notice that she's sitting in some of the coffee spill until it's too late, and by then she can't bring herself to care. 

Hilda's boots clack against the ground. She comes to stand behind Lysithea, and for a brief moment, Lysithea feels fear lance through her at the thought of what expression Hilda might be wearing. 

Finally, Hilda sits down beside her with a huff -- on the other side so as to not sit in the coffee. "Geesh," she says. "You listened to my moaning this whole time, when you legit were on the point of, like, dying behind me?"

Lysithea leans her head against the railing, relishing the cool press of metal against her forehead. "At this point, I'm used to listening to your moaning by now."

Hilda nudges their shoulders together to get Lysithea’s attention, and then wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "That's what she said."

With a groan, Lysithea shoves weakly at Hilda’s shoulder. "Shut the fuck up. You have the humour of a twelve year old boy."

In answer, Hilda wordlessly hands Lysithea her coffee cup, and then stands. She descends to the step just in front of Lysithea, and turns so that her back is facing her. Hilda pats herself on the shoulder. "Come on, then. Hop on and hold tight, spider-monkey."

Lysithea glares at Hilda’s back. "You did not just make a Twilight reference."

"I sure did. Now either hop on, or I'll leave you to crawl the last two floors by yourself. Up to you."

Lysithea purses her lips. She considers her options. Sighing, she clutches the coffee cup in one hand and wraps her other arm around Hilda's neck. She feels Hilda's hands slide under her knees as she crawls atop her back. When Hilda straightens, there’s a flex of muscle all along her back and shoulders. For all that however Lysithea is surprised at how soft she is. 

"If you tell anyone about this," Lysithea says, her voice dangerously low in Hilda's ear, "I'll kill you, and they will never find your body."

"How dare you threaten me with a good time."

Hilda jostles Lysithea a little to get her resting just so against her back, before turning around and marching up the stairs once more. As she does so, she steps around the spilled coffee so as to not get any on her designer boots. 

“I’ll need to give the janitorial staff a gift,” Lysithea mumbles against Hilda’s spine. 

“Cyril likes flowers. Little white ones that come in bouquets. Baby’s breath, or whatever they’re called. Which suits him, actually; he’s such a baby-faced guy.”

Lysithea lifts her head slightly to frown at the slope of Hilda’s cheek. “How on earth do you know that?”

Hilda flashes Lysithea a sly grin over her shoulder. “I make a point of being on excellent terms with janitorial staff wherever I work.” 

“Of course you do.”

The last two floors to their offices pass without incident. Apart from the fact that Lysithea can’t help but notice that Hilda smells nice. Really nice. So nice, Lysithea almost asks what perfume she wears, but keeps her mouth shut instead and demands to be put down the moment Hilda carries her up that last step. 

--

The elevators are down for the entire week. Everyday of that week, Hilda gives her a piggyback ride up the stairs. And everyday of that week, Hilda complains about the university’s health and safety policies.

“Seriously,” she says on Thursday for the fourth time, “you should complain to Judith about this. If you don’t, then I will.”

Lysithea huffs against Hilda’s shoulder blade. “I doubt the head of the biosciences department can make the university contractors work any faster.”

“No, but she can talk to Rhea on your behalf. Duh!"

"And what's the Dean supposed to do about it? Magically make the elevators work again?"

"Maybe! You don't know!" Hilda grouses, and she is excellent at grousing. “If nothing else, they should review their disability services. Or install a pulley system for you. Bucket and rope, that kind of thing.”

“Your thoughtfulness is as touching as ever,” Lysithea says dryly. 

“Or I could just -” Hilda pretends to drop her, loosening her grip beneath Lysithea’s knees.

With a yelp, Lysithea wraps her arms more tightly around Hilda’s neck. “No! I take it back! I take it back!” 

“That’s what I thought. Did Cyril like the flowers, by the way?”

They have resumed the climb, and Lysithea relaxes fractionally, safe in the knowledge that Hilda would not have actually abandoned her on the third floor stairwell. “He did. He still has them in a vase, I think.”

“Told you so!” Hilda says in that sing-song tone of hers.

“You’re insufferable. You know that?”

“You love it."

"I do not."

"And yet you continue to hang out with me. So, who's really at fault here, huh? Checkmate."

"That's -!" Lysithea splutters. "- completely illogical! How is it my fault that you tricked me into hanging out with you?”

“What do you mean ‘tricked you’?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh, we had a deal. That’s not tricking. Besides,” Hilda has to pause on the fifth floor landing to hike Lysithea a little further up her back, “You can’t steal a crossword in a communal newspaper. It’s literally for everyone to use.”

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can’t steal from a communal resource. That’s the definition of the Tragedy of the Commons.”

“So, you admit it? We’re friends?”

Lysithea snorts, and says sarcastically, “No, I prefer to let my nemesis carry me up flights of stairs every day.”

“Your nemesis sounds like a really cool gal. With amazing eyeliner. And impeccable taste in clothes.”

“And an ego the size of a planet,” Lysithea adds to the list.

Hilda ignores that comment. “You should totally let her give you a makeover.”

“Over my dead body.”

Hilda laughs, and the sound makes Lysithea’s stomach fizz like she’s had too much sparkling lemonade.  

It’s a good thing Edelgard and Hilda don’t know one another, Lysithea thinks. If Edelgard found out about this whole Almost-Fainting-on-the-University-Staircase (A.F.U.S.) debacle, she would be on the first flight over to scold Lysithea in person for being so careless. And Lysithea isn’t sure she could handle both Edelgard and Hilda in the same place at the same time. 

--

Edelgard’s monthly care package arrives in the office on the same day that Lysithea finally manages to arrange a meeting with her main supervisor. She enters Tomas' office, excited to finally get some guidance on all the hard work she's put into her thesis over the last few months, only to leave twenty minutes later with more questions than answers.

He is nothing like how he’d acted when she was still being courted by the university before this whole process began. Back then, Tomas had been charming, always with a kind smile and a twinkle in his eye. Now, he jabs his finger at her data charts and refuses to accept any answers she gives him regardless of how many different ways she explains the results. 

Lysithea is wandering listlessly back to her own office, cradling the latest drafted chapter of her thesis, when she sees Hilda striding towards her down the hallway.

"Hey! Lysithea!" Hilda holds up an enormous cardboard box that she’s carrying. "You got a package in the mail! And judging by the weight, your family sent you -” she lifts the box with both hands. “- a shipment of lead! It’s your lucky day."

"Oh," Lysithea feels her spirits stir somewhat at the sight of the package. "My friend sends me those every other month. It's probably full of food and new clothes."

At that, Hilda's eyes light up, the way they did when she figured out a crossword clue, or when they are walking down the street and she saw a pretty girl wearing an outfit she admired. “Well, I gotta see what’s in it now. Hang on -” her brow furrows slightly, and she looks down at the package. “A friend sends you gifts nearly every month?”

“Edelgard has known me since I was five. We’re basically siblings,” Lysithea says by way of explanation. 

The furrow in Hilda’s brow disappears. “Aww. That’s so cute!” 

Lysithea hums in wordless agreement. Normally, whenever Hilda called her ‘cute’ Lysithea would reprimand her, but she can’t be bothered today. She tries to slip past Hilda, and slope into her office for a much needed sulk, but Hilda steps in her way. 

“Bad meeting?” Hilda asks, and thankfully she has lowered her voice. 

The pages of the thesis chapter crinkle beneath Lysithea’s fingers. Even looking at all of Tomas’ notes scrawled across the first page makes her feel sick to her stomach. “He thinks the data is insufficient, and doesn’t correspond strongly enough with the overall thesis statement.”

Hilda frowns. “Then why didn’t he say anything at the time. You gathered it a year ago, yeah?”

“That’s what I said!” Lysithea bursts out, before ducking her head and lowering her voice to a surly mutter. “And Hanneman thinks the data set is fine, but whenever I point that out, Tomas just gets mad and reminds me that Hanneman isn’t my main supervisor.” 

“Hmm.”

For a moment that is Hilda’s only response. She shifts the box in her arms in order to reach up with one hand and lower her sunglasses from where they’re perched atop her head. Then, she nudges Lysithea towards the elevators with her shoulder. “C’mon. Forget Tomas. We’re going to lunch, and you’re going to open this great big box, and it’ll cheer you right up.”

“You’re only saying that because you want to know what’s in the box, aren’t you?” 

“I’m insulted you would even think that of me.” Hilda sniffs, then drums her fingers in a playful rhythm against the box in question. “It’s only part of the reason.”

“And what’s the other part?” Lysithea asks.

“I’m a woman of grace and mystery. You’ll just have to embrace that,” Hilda says as she lifts her leg to hit the button that calls the elevator with the toe of her boot. 

They go to lunch at a place down the road, because both of them are tired of the downstairs cafe, and if they have to order the same croissant sandwiches again one of them is going to scream. Hilda grabs a table outside in the hopes that they can enjoy the last good day of fall before the cold rainy season hits. The sun is watery, but Hilda drags the table a bit further from the shade, and Lysithea moves the chairs. 

They order, and their drinks come out. Hilda barely lets Lysithea take a sip before she places the package atop the table and all but bounces with anticipation in her seat.

"Looking at the two of us, nobody would guess that you're the childish one," Lysithea says. She grabs up a knife from the cutlery placed out for them, and starts to cut through the copious amounts of tape that Edelgard had used to wrap the box. 

"You say that, but I wish I looked as adorable as you." 

Lysithea pauses to glare at Hilda, but it sloughs off her like water from a duck's back. Lysithea continues cutting until she can finally prise the box open.

Predictably, Edelgard has stuffed the box full of more goodies than Lysithea could possibly consume or wear in half a year. Lysithea immediately goes for a smaller package of her favourite cookies, which have been padded with an assortment of clothes wrapped in expensive-looking tissue paper and bound in ribbon. 

She never recognised the labels of the clothing or accessories, but Lysithea always recognised the sweets. 

“Oh, wow,” Hilda breathes, as Lysithea peels back the wrapping of a biscuit elaborately painted with frosting. 

Closing her eyes, Lysithea sighs with pleasure as she takes that first bite. When she opens her eyes again, it’s to find Hilda watching her closely. "Do you want some? I thought you said I had too much of a sweet tooth for your tastes."

"Yeah, well, bring on the diabetes because those look amazing."

With a sigh, Lysithea holds out the biscuit she has already taken a bite of, but instead of taking it from her hand, Hilda leans over the table. She takes an extra big bite, so that when she leans back in her seat she triumphantly holds half of the biscuit in her mouth. Lysithea just rolls her eyes. If it were any other occasion, Lysithea would have given her a scolding, but even a glance into the box clearly shows that she won’t be running out of confectionaries any time soon. 

“Okay, what else you got, Lysithea’s friend?” Hilda asks the absent El, pulling the box towards her side of the table to sift through its contents. 

Lysithea finishes off the cookie, and is reaching for another when she stops. Hilda has gone stock still. Her mouth hangs slightly open. 

“What is it?” Lysithea asks.

Hilda does not immediately answer. She pulls off her sunglasses, and places them on the table, but her eyes never leave the box’s contents. She takes out one of the carefully lined pieces of clothing as though it’s made of gold dust and dreams. When she tugs the ribbon free, the gauzy paper falls open to reveal a black t-shirt splashed with bold red lettering. 

Hilda picks up the t-shirt to gaze at it in shock. There are dozens of other pieces of clothing similarly wrapped and stashed in the box. Lysithea doesn’t see what all the fuss is about. 

“Are you telling me,” Hilda says slowly, and her voice climbs with every word, “that this whole time, you had an uber rich childhood friend who sends you Valentino via air freight? Valentino?” 

“Yes?” Lysithea mumbles, wondering if this is some sort of trick question. “Is that a good brand, or something?”

She knows it’s a dumb question the moment it leaves her mouth. Hilda lowers the t-shirt just enough to stare at her over it. “Why don’t I ever see you wearing this stuff?!” 

“It’s -! It’s not really my style,” Lysithea says lamely.

“Not your -!” Hilda has to close her eyes and calm herself with a deep breath. Then, she starts folding everything back perfectly the way it was. “You’re paying for lunch. Consider it amends for your sins.”

“You can have the clothes, if you want?” Lysithea offers, picking up her soda. 

“You think I could fit into this? Look at these, and then look at your spaghetti arms.” For emphasis, Hilda lifts one of her own arms and pokes at the bulge of muscle at her shoulder. 

Lysithea is taking a sip from her drink, and makes an exasperated noise at the back of her throat. She puts the glass down. “You know I can’t go to the gym. I can barely walk five blocks without needing to sit down.”

“At least tell me what you do with all the clothes your mystery millionaire sends you.” 

Lysithea worries her lower lip between her teeth. Hilda gives her a look, and she admits with a wince, “I donate them to a shelter in town.” 

Hilda buries her face into the shirt she had just folded, and muffles a sound halfway between a scream and a sob in the fabric. 

Tentatively, Lysithea reaches across the table to pat the top of Hilda’s head. 

Hilda’s voice is muted through the shirt. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

Lysithea pats her head some more. “There, there.” 

They have to clear the table, because the waiter is descending upon them with his arms laden with plates. Hilda swipes one of Lysithea fries before Lysithea can even reach for the condiments. 

“Okay, here’s the deal -” Hilda starts, but winces. “Ow! Those are hot!” 

“I feel less than zero sympathy for you right now.” 

“Fair. But you’ll sing a different tune when you hear of my super cool new deal.” Hilda snags another fry, avoiding Lysithea’s hand swatting down at her wrist. “I’ll read your latest thesis draft and give you feedback and all that jazz, if you do the same for an article I’ve just finished. You can come over to my place this weekend, and we’ll trade. It’ll be fun.” 

Lysithea places the condiment bottle aside, and picks up her fork and knife. “Why is everything always a trade with you?”

“All relationships should be equal and fair.”

Such a frank answer gives Lysithea pause. 

And then Hilda continues, “You know. The division of labour in society. Eat the rich.”

Lysithea aims a flat stare at her. “You’re already eating my lunch and my care package.”

Hilda grabs another one of Lysithea’s fries, pops it into her mouth, and winks. 

--

On Saturday evening, Hilda flings open the door to her apartment the moment Lysithea knocks. Lysithea hadn’t known what was an appropriate gift for her hostess, or if her hostess even technically required a gift, or if bringing Hilda soda when she was sick constituted a suitable substitution. In the end, she had defaulted to the latter of the options, and is now being dragged into Hilda’s apartment, empty-handed. 

If Hilda notices, she doesn’t show it. She shuts the front door behind them, and gestures vaguely to the apartment. “Welcome to my lair or whatever.”

On Lysithea’s previous visit, the curtains had been drawn and the lights dimmed so she couldn’t see anything apart from the impression of shapes. And perhaps it would have been better if that had remained the case. 

"Wow." Lysithea looks around at the wreckage. "Your place sure is...even messier than your office."

"Organised chaos, my brother calls it."

"Your brother is very kind."

"I think so, too. You want cider? I bought cider." Even without Lysithea's answer, Hilda is heading towards the kitchen. 

"I don't really drink much," Lysithea admits, picking her way carefully across the floor after Hilda so she doesn’t step on anything. 

"Oh, that's alright. You don't have to. I have soda, too!"

Lysithea blinks in surprise at Hilda's response, which had been immediate. In most social situations, Lysithea's adversion to alcohol was met with passive aggressive disdain or wheedling for her to join in the revelry. Hilda on the other hand, just starts pulling out various two litre bottles of sparkling lemonade and ginger ales, and arranging them on the counter in a single file formation like soldiers on parade. 

"I've got Schweppes. I've got Bundaberg. I've got Sprite. I've got Canada Dry. I’ve got San Pellegrino. I’ve got Perrier. I’ve got this new L&P stuff that my brother had shipped in from Australia or something, which I’ve been dying to try. Pick your poison."

Approaching the counter, Lysithea eyes the various bottles. Hilda has also pulled out a cider for herself, and is rustling around in a drawer for a bottle opener. Hesitantly, Lysithea picks up the cider and turns the bottle over in her hands. The glass is cold and misty from its time spent in the fridge. She goes to the back label and runs her thumb over the 2.4% ABV lettering. 

She can't even recall the last time she had alcohol. No, wait. That’s a lie. It had been on her eighteenth birthday. She had been allowed a single glass of champagne. It had a fresh strawberry in it, fizzing away at the bottom of the glass, and had tasted like dry unsweetened soda. 

Lysithea held the bottle of cider out to Hilda, who had finally found the bottle opener in her messy drawer of various cutlery, cooking knives, and spatulas. "Actually, I've changed my mind. I'll have one of these."

Slowly, Hilda takes the cider, and prises the cap free. “You sure?” She tosses the cap onto the counter, where it rattles around before settling in place. "Seriously, it's not a problem. No pressure. We're not, like, going out or anything. It's just us here, so -"

"This is fine. Thanks." Lysithea takes the bottle back, but doesn't immediately take a drink. She hesitates, and re-thinks her actions. 

With a shrug, Hilda turns to the fridge to pull out another cider for herself. "Alright. Up to you."

Switching the cold bottle into her off hand, Lysithea tugs at the strap of her bag over her shoulder to a more comfortable angle so that it doesn't dig into her skin. "So, uh - where are we doing this? Here?"

She nods pointedly to the kitchen table, which is piled high with grocery bags, library books, articles, makeup, empty mason jars, full mason jars, beads, jewelry, craft items, wire in various metals such as gold and silver and copper. Lysithea wanders closer to the table, clutching her cider. 

"You," she tilts her head to one side, "make jewelry?"

"Yup. It’s a hobby of mine." Hilda joins her. She puts down her own open bottle of cider, and picks up what Lysithea had originally thought was a necklace. She presses it to Lysithea's chest. "This sweater clip would look good on you by the way. Especially with one of those grandma cardigans you like so much. You should take it."

Hilda shoves the sweater clip into Lysithea’s free hand before she can complain.

"They're not 'grandma cardigans.'" Lysithea grouses. "They're just my cardigans."

"And you look very cute in them. You'll look even cuter wearing this. If you don’t want to wear the sweater clip with the cardigan, you can just hook them into the tips of your collars. Very chic right now. Or - ooh!" Hilda dives into one of the grocery bags, pawing through its contents. "I have a brooch in here that would make you look like some sort of Edwardian porcelain doll."

Lysithea scrunches up her nose. "No, thank you."

"No, no! I meant it in a good way!"

"I'm sure you did. But my answer is the same."

Hilda whines, but eventually relents. "Fine. Keep the sweater clip though. And don’t you dare donate it to a shelter!"

For a moment, Lysithea considers denying that request. Instead, she runs the fine gold chain between her fingers. Two clips hang from each end of the chain, molded from gold into the shape of little decorative pinecones with ivy leaves. 

Hilda is right. They would look good with her cardigans. And she does like cardigans...

"Thanks." Lysithea puts the sweater clip into a compartment of her bag, so that she won't forget that it's there. "So, can we clear this table, or -?"

Suddenly, Hilda stands between Lysithea and the table as if guarding her firstborn child from an evil witch out for blood. "No way! Don't touch anything here."

Lysithea crosses her arms as well as she could for someone holding a glass bottle. "What the hell do you think I'm going to do? It’s not like I can make it worse than it already is!"

"It's perfect! I know exactly where everything is!"

"Oh, yeah?" Lysithea lifts her chin, and issues the challenge: "Find me a pair of scissors."

Immediately, Hilda reaches into a bag and pulls out a pair of gleaming sewing scissors. The nice kind. The kind that Lysithea's mother would have yelled at her for touching as a child.

Sticking out her lower lip, Lysithea mumbles, "Yeah, ok. Fine."

Hilda waggles the scissors at her. "You're extra cute when you pout."

"Call me cute again, and I'm dumping this cider over your head."

At that, Hilda makes a face, but says nothing. She simply sticks the scissors back into the bag and out of sight. 

"I think I saw a couch under all the rubble of your living room," Lysithea says. But as soon as she takes a step towards the living room, Hilda interrupts. 

“Okay, I know we’re still new to this friendship thing, but we need to make one thing clear. All of this?” Hilda gestures towards the apartment in general. “Just looks messy, alright? I have a system.” 

Now, that, finally was something Lysithea could understand. She had a Routine, after all. Capital 'R'. And it sounded like Hilda's system came with its own capital letter, too.

"Please don't tell me we have to sit on the ground for this." Lysithea looks down at the kitchen floor. While cluttered just like everything else in the apartment, at least the floor appears clean. Hilda obviously washed stuff, she just didn't tidy it. 

In answer, Hilda picks up her cider and tilts the bottle towards the kitchen exit. "This way.” 

Hilda leads her not towards the living room, but towards her bedroom. When Lysithea realises what is happening, she freezes. 

"Uh -" Lysithea says eloquently. 

Hilda stops in the doorway to her bedroom, and shoots a puzzled glance over her shoulder. "Huh? What's wrong?"

Lysithea looks down at the cider in their hands, then at the bedroom beyond; she can’t meet Hilda’s gaze. She can feel her cheeks warming up, and knows her face must be going bright red. 

Hilda's eyes widen. "Oh! Oh! No, it’s -” She laughs, and Lysithea has never known Hilda to be anything but the epitome of confidence, but she sounds slightly nervous now. “It’s not like that. It totally could be like that, but it’s not like that. Tonight, there’s no funny business."

Even so, Lysithea squints at Hilda in suspicion. 

"I swear!" Hilda draws an 'X' over her chest with her free hand. "Cross my heart, and hope to die."

"I am starting to think you're actually two twelve year olds in a designer trench coat," Lysithea says. "How old are you, really?"

"Thirty this year."

Lysithea rocks back on her heels. "You're barely even thirty, and you were giving me shit for being twenty-four a few weeks ago?"

"There's a big difference between thirty and twenty-four. Six whole years difference, to be exact."

"Congratulations. You can count. Your brother must be so proud."

Hilda makes a rude gesture with her fingers, then walks further into her bedroom. "Don't even talk to me about it. The idea of turning thirty has seriously been playing havoc with my nerves. I'm going to be middle aged soon."

"Tragic," Lysithea drawls, following her inside.

"I'm being serious! I'm ancient! I could keel over at any second. You're going to have to put me into one of those old folk’s home, where they’ll dress me in scuffed kitten heels and outdated Chanel."

“I promise to polish your kitten heels for you when your crippling arthritis kicks in.” 

Hilda’s expression brightens. “Really?”

“No.”

“Tease.”

Hilda flops onto her bed. It's the only piece of furniture in the room that doesn't have mountains of stuff piled atop it. The chest of draws in the corner is almost entirely hidden beneath the sheer quantity of jewelry that Hilda owns. There's a work station that holds a laptop and a few charging cables, along with heaps of stray electronic devices that Lysithea can't even name. Lysithea would have guessed the table got some use, but for the fact that the chair in front of it is a sand-dune made of clean clothes that Hilda hasn't gotten around to putting away. 

The closet door is open, and shoes are spilling out in all directions. Innumerable jackets seem to be multiplying inside. More unopened shoe boxes teeter towards the ceiling. There's a narrow path between the shoes scattered along the floor that leads to the bathroom door, which is partially ajar. 

When Hilda jumps atop the bed, she bounces twice. She kicks her boots off and flings them in the vague direction of the closet, where they ricochet off the closet door. She places her bottle of cider onto the bedside table, and swaps it for a tablet that was charging there. She flicks the tablet on, and keys in the passcode.

When Lysithea still hasn't moved from her place in the doorway, Hilda glances up at her. "Well?" She grabs a pillow and makes a show of fluffing it up and propping it on the wall beside her, where she gestures to it as though to a throne. "Make yourself at home."

Slowly, Lysithea makes her way over to the bed. Where Hilda had jumped, Lysithea clambered. She nearly spilled her cider, and had to switch it between hands to keep from making a mess of the pink and white striped sheets, which are surprisingly soft. They smell like clean laundry and Hilda's perfume.

She shoves that thought aside brusquely. Clearing her throat, Lysithea slips her work bag from her shoulder and digs through it for her laptop. 

Something warm touches the hand holding her bottle, and Lysithea nearly jerks away before she realises that Hilda is taking the cider from her so that she can shuffle around in her bag without spilling anything. 

"Thanks," Lysithea mumbles, letting Hilda take the bottle for a second.

"Sure thing." Hilda hands the cider back the moment Lysithea has set up the computer on her lap. 

Between the two of them holding the bottle, the cider has begun to warm in their grasps. Lysithea takes a tentative first sip. It's sweet, pear-flavoured, and only has the mildest hint of alcohol. She takes another sip, and then balances it between her legs so that she can still type on her laptop.

“Alright, did you email me your article?”

“Already in your inbox since eleven this morning.” 

Hilda lounges back on her own pillow, sprawling over a good portion of the bed while she, presumably, opens Lysithea’s thesis on her tablet. She had summoned a tablet stylus from somewhere, and is jotting down notes directly onto the screen. 

Bracing herself with another swig of cider, Lysithea clicks on Hilda’s email, and gets to work. 

The silence only lasts for a few minutes, before Hilda’s tablet starts playing music, and she hums along. Lysithea purses her lips, but does not tell her to stop. The additional noise and lyrics means she has to read more slowly for full comprehension. Lysithea finishes her cider, and sets it on the bedside table beside Hilda’s now empty bottle. 

While they work, Hilda contorts herself into a number of poses on the bed. At one point she lies flat on her stomach, and swings her feet in the air. At another, she’s on her back with her head hanging off the edge, holding the tablet up and reading upsidedown. Later still, she sprawls on her side like she’s seated at some ancient Graecian banquet, her head propped on her hand, tapping along with her stylus to the rhythm of whatever pop song is playing.

Eventually, Hilda complains about wanting snacks, and bounces off the bed in search of something in the kitchen. 

She returns with a bag of potato chips, and the invitation, “C’mon. It’s been like two hours. It’s break time.”

Lysithea is still scrolling through Hilda’s article, arduously checking all of her references. “But -”

“No ‘buts’.” Hilda waves the now open bag of chips in Lysithea’s face so that she can’t see the screen properly without leaning far to one side. And even then, Hilda follows her head with the bag. “Relax. The article isn’t going anywhere. It’s not due to be published for, like, two more months.”

Lysithea closes the lid of her laptop and puts it aside. “I don’t know how you do it,” she says, reaching for a chip.

“Do what?” Hilda waits until Lysithea has taken a handful before turning the bag back towards her self. 

For a moment Lysithea can’t answer, because she’s chewing. Finally, she says, “You’ve got that -- that thing. You know. The -” Lysithea grasps at the air with one hand. “What’s that word? It’s Italian. Means you look careless but only because you practice looking careless.”

“Sprezzatura,” Hilda answers without hesitation. 

Lysithea snaps her fingers. “That’s it! Jesus, you’re good at that. No wonder you’re so good at crosswords.” 

Hilda pretends to primp and coquettishly twirl a strand of hair around her finger. “Thanks. I know.”

Lysithea snatches the bag of chips from Hilda’s hands. “Shut up. I wasn’t finished, so don’t look so smug.”

Hilda lets the bag go without any complaint, and says, "Go on, then. What other compliments do you want to render unto me?"

Lysithea sticks out her tongue at her. She knows it's childish, and under any other circumstances she would never have done so. But this is Hilda, and they're all alone. There's nobody else to judge. When it's just the two of them, Lysithea doesn't care if she looks childish -- Hilda would never think she was a child, regardless of her appearance.

"No more compliments,” Lysithea says. “And I could do with less of your strategic incompetence. It's incredibly annoying."

"You should try it sometime," says Hilda, reaching towards Lysithea’s lap to take a chip from the bag. She speaks while she chews, so that her words are punctuated with the crunch of crispy potato wafer. "It makes life so much easier when you don't have to worry about other people's expectations. Trust me."

Lysithea balks at the very thought. "No way! I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because!" she tries to think of a reason, but fails. "I just - I couldn't.”

Hilda goes for another chip. “I know you can do better than that.”

“I'm always worried about what people think when they look at me, because I've always been in the spotlight. I was taken out of the normal school system at the age of twelve and put into special programs. And even before that, it was a constant stream of performances. Whether it's with a musical instrument, or my education, or all the doctors -"

Lysithea’s eyes widen. She bites her tongue, when she realises exactly what she has said. Hilda has paused in her chewing, her mouth closed but her jaw almost comically jutting out to one side while she stares at Lysithea. 

“Th-That - What I mean is -” Lysithea stammers. She has to clear her throat, and then fixes Hilda with a hard look that doesn’t match the waver still present in her voice. “You didn’t hear anything.”

Hilda blinks. “Hear what? Anyway, I’m starving. Are you starving? Let’s get something more than this.” She takes back the bag of chips and rolls it closed, sticking a few fingers in her mouth to lick off the residual salt. With her other hand, she pulls out her phone. “How does pizza sound? There’s a place around the corner that doesn’t completely suck and can deliver in fifteen minutes.”

Already hunched back over her laptop, Lysithea answers with relief, “Pizza is fine. Nothing too spicy, please.” 

“Extra jalapeños. Got it.”

Lysithea can’t help but let out a small huff of laughter. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

--

Lysithea awakes to a sea of soft warmth. She blinks, bleary, and squints. Light streams through a window, washing the sheets a bright white. A tangle of pink hair peeks from beneath the sheets beside her, nestled into the neighboring pillow, and Lysithea freezes. 

Hilda. She is in Hilda’s bed. She had spent the night at Hilda’s.

She doesn’t need to look down at herself to know that she is still mostly clothed. Her shoes and sweater have been abandoned somewhere on the floor. She could vaguely remember getting rid of them sometime after they ordered a pizza but before they abandoned their work to watch a show on netflix. Not that they had paid the show much attention. Hilda had spoken through the whole thing, as if every scene were in desperate need of her constant narration.

After that, Lysithea only remembers the warm hum of the laptop between them, and the softness of the bedsheets, and Hilda’s voice lowering to a murmuring lull. She must have fallen asleep, and Hilda hadn’t been so cruel as to wake her and kick her out of the apartment at midnight.  

Empty bottles of soda and cider are scattered like a city skyline on the bedside table. Her laptop was long gone -- probably under the bed at this point. God only knows. The corner of Hilda's phone can be seen beneath her pillow, glinting in the light when Lysithea sits up in bed.

She needs to somehow make her way to the bathroom, but she is up against the wall, the floor at the foot of the bed is a wreckage of clothes, and Hilda is asleep blocking the only path to freedom. She decides to brave the mountain at the foot of the bed instead of crawling over an insensate Hilda. When she slips out from beneath the sheets and starts to edge further down the mattress however, Hilda rolls over, and Lysithea only narrowly escapes being clocked by a knee. 

Swearing under her breath, Lysithea manages to escape, and climbs down the slope of Hilda's clothes. She finds her bag at the foot of the bed, beside her laptop, and breathes a sigh of relief that it hadn't been consumed by the living organism that was Hilda's apartment. Grabbing the bag, Lysithea heads to the bathroom, and shuts the door behind her as quietly as she can. The lock is a one of those sliding bars that covers the gap between the door and the frame, and Lysithea slips it into place. 

The bathroom is, much to her surprise, clean. Apart from the copious amount of bottles and brushes and makeup and hair product and other cosmetic items that Lysithea did not know the names for, it's still clean. Towels hang from a heated rack along the wall, and the combined shower-tub gleams white. 

Unfortunately however there's very little space on the countertops. Lysithea silently debates what to do with her bag until she finally gives up and props it on the edge of the bathtub. She has to bend over to loot through it. She pulls out another smaller bag from within, a black hard-lined case with a red and white caduceus staff logo on the front. It’s only her emergency staff, the one she keeps just in case her day doesn’t go quite as planned. Like yesterday. And today. 

She unzips the case at the sink, but has to stop. Of all the products and bottles Hilda has accumulated, there's not a single empty glass, and she had not thought to bring some of the leftover soda from the bedroom. With a grimace, Lysithea flips the lid of the case up, and goes about part one of her morning routine.

The cavalcade of pills needs to be taken once every twenty-four hours. Most of the pill bottles sport warning labels about adverse effects when mixed with alcohol. She uncaps the first, and shakes a single pill into the centre of her palm. At most she can manage to swallow down two at a time, but it still seems to take an age. Especially since she has to keep moving the bag aside in order to run the tap and sip water from her cupped hands. 

By the end, the front of her shirt has water marks all down it, and she is wiping off her chin and hands upon one of the fluffy towels. The bottles of pills are all lined up on the small bit of ledge she had cleared upon the sink, and the larger case they usually were neatly divided into rests upon the floor. Lysithea puts the last cap back onto its corresponding bottle, twisting until she hears the child-lock mechanism catch. 

She catches sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her pale hair is a mess. She considers the odds that Hilda would mind her using one of the many brushes, before deciding to run her fingers through her hair instead. 

“It’s not weird,” Lysithea tells her reflection in the mirror as she tries to tame a particularly stubborn cowlick to no avail. “She’s a friend. Having friends and staying at their house is not weird. You used to sleep in El’s bed all the time.”

That much, at least, is true. And that was even at Edelgard’s enormous family mansion, where there were more rooms with beds than a hospital, let alone in Hilda’s one bedroom apartment where the couch was off limits due to an overabundance of electronics and tchotchkes. 

Her thoughts are interrupted by a knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Lysithea,” Hilda’s voice is a tired mumble through the door. “C’mon. I need to use the bathroom.”

Frantic, Lysithea swipes all of her pill bottles from the sink ledge and back into her main bag. She doesn’t bother to sort them carefully into their own little miniature case like she normally would, cramming everything into her bag and tugging at the zippers. 

Hilda's knocking intensifies. 

"I'm coming!" Lysithea calls. There's a pause, and then she adds, "If you say 'that's what she says' I will spray you with the shower head."

"You're no fun before you've had coffee in the morning."

Lysithea yanks open the door. Hilda is rubbing at one of her eyes. Somewhere during the night before they had fallen asleep, she had the sense of mind to wash her face and remove all her makeup. Without her usual dark eyeliner and eyeshadow, Hilda looks -- not plain, exactly. Vulnerable. As though she used cosmetics as armour. 

As she slips past her, Hilda says, "Coffee’s in the freezer. There's cereal for breakfast, if you want. Or leftover pizza. Just be sure to leave a slice for me."

"Yeah. Alright." 

The bathroom door shuts, and the lock clicks into place. Lysithea stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do. She really should eat something. The medication was supposed to be taken with food. She can stay for breakfast. It’s fine. It’s sensible.

Sleeping over at a colleague’s house, and sharing a bed, and quibbling over who gets the bathroom, and eating leftovers for breakfast together is not weird. 

It’s not weird. It’s worse.

It’s becoming part of the Routine. 

--

NOTES:

The pinecones on the sweater clip is a very oblique reference to Lysithea’s major Crest of Gloucester and the Thyrsus. In Graeco-Roman mythology, the Thyrsus is a staff with a pinecone at the end. 

also: tfw ur not-gf is too tiny to steal her designer clothes (TToTT)

[peaches-of-1]

Peachtober | Day 10: Hybrid

Naga!BTS x Black!Reader

First chapter! The rest will be written in November, but for now, please enjoy the beginning of forever. Requests for moodboards and reactions open!

Even though I was the one who came to Korea after months of travel trying to find the origin of my family’s necklace, I was so tired of the king. It was clear his actions were ruled by fear. His rules and such were so harsh for the simple reason of fear. He wanted to keep the kind hearted foreigner--aka me--safe.

“Please, do not go near the rivers at night. Stay away from all caves and for goodness sake, do not go to the waterfall unattended.” He said in his outfit which I had learned was a hanbok. Rich in blue tones and emblazoned with gold.

However, I was able to get information from the help around the palace and from my few supervised trips amongst the commoners. I was no different from them other than my pallor was the same as some of the medicinal bark they tried to sell me.

Nearly 34 moons had passed since I arrived in this land. All were spent confirming what I knew. This is where I was supposed to be. The King’s fear came from the scaled beasts which roamed near those areas and were known for kidnapping its youth to eat. There were also rumors of those who bathed near the waterfall becoming impregnated with non-human children.

At least, most would appear human until they hit puberty. Others showed their scales before or after, but most hide if they even suspect they have part of the scaled beast within them. Another option for the half scaled creatures’ offspring was that the parent who birthed them sent them away or killed them before too many people knew about it.

I was going to see what was up. That is why I had gone out under the guise of washing clothing to bond with the maid--although I was treated like a royal guest--and had left the clothes basket behind once I was out of the sight of the king. I went as quickly as I could to where the “cursed” waterfall was, discarding my shoes to make sure I made less noise and could better control where I left my mark.

There was a young man wading in the water. Something was trailing behind him, but I wasn’t at the right angle to see what it was. He opened his arms and spoke the language of their elders. The ground shook but the gateway did not open.

I ducked down behind the rock and made sure the reds and yellows of my skirt weren’t peeking out.

“Human~ I know you’re there~! You are not from here and should go back. I will count to five before I start looking for you…1, 2, 3, 4--”

Suddenly a face was right in front of my own, a very handsome face, “Five. I found~you~” he had a grin on his face and…

His eyes. I couldn’t look away from his eyes. Slitted like a snake, and I wanted to look at his body and yet all my thoughts seemed to seep away

“That’s right, beautiful stranger. Look into my eyes. You came here to find me, did you not? The scaled beast in charge of cursing all the humans in the King’s Village? His pretty little palace?” He chuckled, his low voice hypnotising me as much as his eyes which started to strope in an array of green and blue. “Did you want to get cursed to? I’d be happy to help fertilize the eggs that your beautiful form carries. Give you some beautiful naga children.”

There was a heat on my chest. His movements were puzzling. Why was he wiggling so much? He had the tail of a snake and yet the torso of a human man. Was this what they were so afraid of?

“What are you doing?” I asked and reached out to him.

He pulled back and was confused, “You can speak?”

“I have a voice. What else would I do with it?” I questioned him.

Both of us looked down at the glow of my necklace. It was green and warm and intensified the moment he got closer. His face was serious now, and I felt like I had been awoken from a deep sleep.

“So, you’re the one we’ve been waiting for.” He said.

The man bowed low, his tail coiling behind him, “My name is Kim Taehyung. I am at your service, Princess.”

“Princess?” I asked.

He looked at me, “Yes. You have the necklace...and you look just like the art. How did I not recognize you sooner?”

I held my necklace. It was called the Gorgon’s Eye and had been passed down by my family for generations on end. I was the one chosen by my mother to wear this with the promise that it would protect me. It always had but never in such an important situation. After all these years... The necklace was made up of seven silver intertwining snakes around a green emerald eye.

“Taehyung?” I said his name.

His eyes met mine again, but then he looked at the ground. I followed him to the water’s edge because he moved without a word, and I was not sure what to say just yet. He was completely serious about the whole Princess thing. Yet I could never--could I?

The blue haired man looked back at me, “Please, ride on my tail and hold on tightly if you wish to know more.”

I did as told, holding Taehyung around the neck. My necklace glowed faintly as he slithered through the water, doing his best to keep me dry and above it. He spoke what I thought was Korean when hiding behind the boulder, but now knew it was something more than that. Something older and more familiar than the Asian language.

It reminded me of the song my Grandmother would sing to me, but I only recognized one word, “Home”

The cave to our left began to glow, and he smiled. We went through the entrance and it was an amazing sight.

“We are headed for the castle where I am sure you belong. Our princess has finally returned to us. What a joyous day!” Taehyung seemed in a good mood and full of light unlike a few moment ago where I had been sure he was trying to attack me.

“I assure you I am no princess.” I replied. “I am just a woman wanting to know where my family’s necklace came from.”

“Don’t worry, Princess. You will.”

“Stop calling me that. My name is Y/N!” I pouted.

The blue haired naga smiled, “As you wish, Y/N.”

The two of us soon ended up in front of a palace which seemed to have marble everywhere. The walls were decorated with natural gems. As soon as I stepped off of the blue haired being’s back, there was another young naga wiping the sweat from his face due to the hot sun. I looked at the difference between the two attractive faces.

Well, to start, the young guard had long-ish black hair and greenish yellow eyes compared to Taehyung’s blue tone. Taehyung also had green scales compared to this man’s black iridescent ones.

“Did you really fall for another human?” He asked. “No offense, ma’am. You’re beautiful, but…” Then his eyes went wide and his voice softened in reverence, “Taehyung. Is she…?”

Taehyung nodded, “Yes, Jungkook, this is our princess, but she prefers to be called Y/N.”

Jungkook bowed, “Princess! Oh, Princess Y/N. I thought I would not see you again until my next life!”

“Princess?”

“Our Princess is here?”

“A Princess?”

Soon enough, three other young snake...men showed up and were bowing to my feet. What the hell was going on? Two of them were basically entwined with one another. Dark red hair and vibrant red scales to match such a bright personality wrapped up with brown hair and baby blue scales with a bit of a sheen. They looked at me eagerly and with curiosity. Hope trailing right behind.

“Princess Y/N,” Jungkook began. “This is Hoseok and Jimin.”

He motioned to each. Hoseok was the red scaled one. Alright.

And then there was another who slowly slid out of a tree. White scales that shone rainbow in direct sunlight. His eyes too, were like sunbursts though he kept a pretty even demeanor. He hung around behind the others but was still very much curious to see the face of the one they called their princess.

“She doesn’t look like royalty. You didn’t steal that necklace, did you?” He asked, speaking in sort of a pout.

I was offended and my necklace knew this as it began to burn more brightly against anyone who dare doubt me.

He raised his eyebrows a bit out of surprise, “Ah. I see. I guess you are our Princess.” The mint haired man bowed low. “Welcome. I am Yoongi.”

There was a slight smile on his face as well.

“Where is Namjoon and Jin?” Taehyung asked.

Hoseok spoke up, “Namjoon went for a walk and Jin is…”

A beautiful tenor voice came from up high accompanied by guitar. The men all smiled fondly and then Jungkook climbed up the castle wall after shooting Jimin a devious grin with a suspicious glint in his eye. Though his stature was quite large, he barely made a sound as he slithered up the wall to the rooftop, using every groove and peg he could to keep his body elevated. The next thing I heard was a sour note and a loud voice go.

“YA!!! YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME! How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me while I’m singing? I will bite you, Jungkook. Try that again, and I swear to--”

A short moment of silence and then two adorable faces peeked over the edge.

“Princess?”

They came down and the pink haired one known as Jin rested his chin in the area between his thumb and pointer finger to size me up.

Then he reached out for my hand, and I gave it to him. He kissed it. He was very VERY handsome. Who knew that snake genes made one so good looking? Would he have been this alluring even without those genes.

“Princess. I cannot tell you how long I have waited to see you in person. I will be your extremely handsome Naga in Waiting. Ask for me whenever you need anything, and I mean anything. Call me Jin, or call me yours. I will answer to either.”

The others rolled their eyes at the charming one with a slender face.

He scolded them, “Excuse me! Don’t roll your eyes like that! Who is the oldest around here?”

“It’s definitely you, grandpa.” Said the adorable one I learned was Jimin.

“I will bite you.”

Jimin giggled and let his tail grab Jin by the waist and pull him closer, “Then do it” and showed his neck.

Jin slithered out of the hold, “I am a naga not a vampire. The neck is gross.” and shivered.

I had to say something, “I have questions. Like. A lot. Is there like a book or something I can read that will get me to know as much as you do? I have no idea what’s going on. If you knew me, I’m not fit to rule over anyone. Least of all, snake people. I’m human. I shouldn’t be ruling over things I am not.” I began to back up. This was all so much.

My back met up with the front of someone. I reached back and tried to see what it was since it was tall like a tree, and also hard. However, I knew snakeskin anywhere. I squeaked and turned around to meet dark purple eyes.

“Jungkook. Did you scare our meal? The meat doesn’t taste good when it’s scared.” His deep voice rumbled.

“She’s not that type of meal, Namjoon-hyung. Look at her.” The guard replied.

He was different from the others. His face was covered with a white mask and he was holding baskets full of vegetables and fish. Did snakes even eat fish? These ones must have.

Namjoon peered closely at me as Jin took the food from his arms, and he gasped, “My princess. You’ve arrived.” He bowed.

“Ok. Enough with the bowing. What the hell is going on?” I asked with frustration being obvious.

“You must have many questions.” He said as he took off his mask. “You must have many questions. Yoongi, Jimin, with me. The rest of you, make everything clean and beautiful. Our princess has returned to us.”

He gave me a gentle smile as the others set off to do what they were told. Both the tired looking naga and the cutesy one approached and we made our way into the building and down a few flights of stairs. They were wide and ancient, the edges chipped and rounded from decades of use. These halls were more Greek inspired than the rest of the buildings I had seen here.

I remembered Greece, when I thought you were so close learning the name of your necklace but not the power. However, I wasn’t as close as I thought. This was close. So close that I could almost taste the answers that this place held. They rested on the top of my tongue yet waited to be spoken by these nagas. Jimin gave me a small smile when I looked up at him his sky colored tail trailing behind him..

Both of these men seemed small compared to Namjoon, then again, nearly everyone did. Yoongi would not meet my eyes, looking away when I noticed him staring at me from the corner of his eye. Water dripped somewhere nearby in several places. Mayhaps this was an old cistern?

“We are here.” Namjoon said and turned to the others. “Will you two do the honors?”

Yoongi drained some of his venom into the elongated basin and then Jimin placed his torch upon it. They stepped back and motioned for me to place my necklace in the designated space. The whole place began to come to life the moment it was in the slot .I was in awe as the fire filled notches below wall paintings and such. 

“Everything we tell you is true whether you believe it or not.” Yoongi said. “However, it will be easier for us if you do. These are your answers if you’re willing to listen.”

I nodded, “I will. I will listen.”

Jimin smiled, “Good. I guess I’ll begin. That necklace you’re wearing. It has been passed down from generation to generation in your family because humans don’t live as long as humans do. It was first created by Medusa, her sisters, Lamia, and Nagas. Lamia kept it safe from humans, but soon fell in love with one. A performer.”

“My family has always been taught the arts. It really is tradition.” I whispered.

The baby blue naga smiled, “Yes. A long one that hopefully keeps going.”

“You see,” Yoongi picked up. “We’ve been dwindling in numbers and very few of the offspring we create survive past the age of 15 due to denying who they are or hiding in fear. This land used to be ours until we were attacked in our sleep and with poison in our water. We came to this spot...where we hid, where we’ve stayed.” He spoke with reverence to the dead.

I looked at him, “You were there. Weren’t you?”

He nodded.

Namjoon picked up where his friend left off, “We’ve survived mostly on hope that, one day, our princess would return to us from extinction. It has been a long time, so we have accepted that she would be mostly human. There is some of Lamia which resides in you still. Our princess that would bring the Naga and Lamia race back with the protection of a Gorgon. All the pieces are here. You’re here.”

The light finally reached the end of the hallway, where a piece of art hung. It was my face created out of snake scales. My eyes looked at all the photos. The war. The necklace. The long wait and ways of trying to create more.

“Create...more? Save you from extinction? You mean I have to…” the thought was not unwanted, just really shocking.

Namjoon replied, forcing himself to look at you although he was embarrassed,, “If you want to. I mean. We will die out sooner or later if more are not born soon, but...yes.”

“We have to mate, yes.” Yoongi said, his cheeks and ears getting increasingly red.

“How come it has to be me? I’ve heard you impregnate most anyone who comes this way.” I folded my arms.

The blonde and tall man replied, “They produce beings that are more human and can’t produce anything but human children. They aren’t you.”

I couldn’t argue with that. If my body really was made to carry half snake children, then I was the only one who could do it. Still…

“Then why mate with them at all if they can’t produce what you need in the long run?”

“Listen. Snakes have times when we can’t stop the need to breed. Not to mention, they come to us. We don’t seek them out.” Jimin nervously brushed his hair back when I turned his eyes on him. “It’s consensual. That’s one of our rules.”

I scoffed, “Then what was that spinny eye thing Taehyung did to me earlier?”

“Oh, he was going to kill you, not mate with you. That just makes sure you don’t fight back.” Yoongi said simply.

Well fuck.

“...I...I have to think this over. I spend my whole life to find out why I was entrusted with this necklace, and I’m just meant to be an incubator for snake children?” This wasn’t what I had in mind when I found the source.

“But you’ll be bringing back an entire race!” Jimin said as if this were an easy choice.

I stalked towards him, “Or I can drink myself silly, forget this ever happened, and have normal children with the King. He’s been courting me since I got here. Hell, I could even just go back home.”

The green light got more intense, and I heard the signature sound of a rattlesnake. Jimin was making it, the anger and bulbous rattle obvious. I stared him down. My glare dared him to attack me and instantly regret it. The glow of my necklace got brighter, turning the orange flames green.

Yoongi got in the middle, “Stop it, you two. She is free to do what she wants.”

“What about us, Yoongi? I want us to survive!” the small one replied. “And she wants to mate with the King? Are you kidding? That’s our enemy! His great-grandfather--”

“I know. I know, but--”

“If she was really our princess, this wouldn’t be a choice!”

That cut deep, and I didn’t understand why. “Listen here, baby blue. This is ALL new to me. I haven’t been adventuring and travelling the EARTH for the past 5 years of my life to become the baby maker to some BEAST.”

I left the room, grabbing my necklace and running back to where we came from. I grabbed the bottom of my red and sun patterened skirt and then dove beneath the waves and swam to where Taehyung had brought me in. The rock wall with a hidden door was the only thing stopping me. I didn’t know the song. I knew where my necklace came from. Now I wanted to go home. I wanted to grab my basket and--

“Work, you stupid thing!” I yelled at the now inanimate jewel hanging around my neck Get me home! At least, get me out!” I didn’t understand anything.

My head swam with thoughts. For once in my life, I didn’t trust myself. I was unsure of what to do and how to do it. I was hungry too. I ate hours ago at the castle before leaving to “wash” the clothing.

Jin zipped to my side, “Princess Y/N. What happened? You don’t seem well.”

How could I voice all that was inside of me? My stomach began to cramp with its emptiness and stress combined. He offered his hand just like before.

“Please. Stay with us for a bit longer? I’ll be making dinner soon.”

I nodded and took his hand. He guided me onto his back using his strong tail where I subsequently passed out on his broad shoulders. It was too hard to keep my eyes and body awake with everything being so overwhelming.

~~~~~

To be continued….

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Sparks Fly (2/?)

A/N What am I doing? I have no idea. But Thor, though. Um, Madoc is evil, Thor is hot, and you think he’s trying to kill you

Thor stood at the fireplace, leaning on the mantle. The hearth was cold, but it gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. The delegation from Fairy was arriving today with you in tow. The wedding was a month away, but Thor had managed to convince Madoc that giving you a month to adjust to being in a new kingdom would help you to ease the transition. As such, several of the Avengers had come to help him ensure your safety while you were there. He could feel the expectant stares as they waited to be told what to do, and he sighed, “I don’t trust this King of Fears,” he said finally, “I don’t trust his intentions, and I don’t trust that he won’t kill her while she’s here to make sure Asgard takes the fall.” Natasha snorted, “This all seems like a lot of work for a political alliance,” she said. Thor turned to face the spy and smiled a little, “Perhaps,” he said, “But I cannot just leave the poor girl to rot in that place. Even if it isn’t love, for her to have survived this long, she can at the very least be diplomatic. There could be worse matches.” Bruce nodded, “It doesn’t hurt that she’s pretty.” Natasha smirked, “Now it makes sense,” she teased, smacking Bruce’s arm.

Steve stood and sighed, “We all have our assignments. Natasha, Wanda, Carol, you three are going to situate yourselves in her household. Bucky, Peter, Loki, eyes, and ears. I don’t want Madoc to breathe without us knowing about it. Sam, Rocket, and I are going to run interference. No one gets to the Princess, not a message, not a gift, not a nothing unless it comes from one of us.” Valkyrie nodded, her job was to watch Thor, but that went without saying. She thought this was stupid and dangerous, but the way Thor looked when he thought of you was enough to make her hold her tongue. The poor man was in love, and he didn’t even realize it yet. 

Thor felt his heart race when he saw the banners on the hill. He looked for you and found you, your petite frame and red hair side saddle on your white stag. “I think I’m going to be sick,” Thor said swallowing hard. Rocket rolled his eyes, and Loki laughed, “And you didn’t even want to go to Fairy,” he mocked. Thor scowled but said nothing. Punching Loki in the mouth wouldn’t actually stop him talking, and he had a feeling it might give you the wrong impression of his temper. There are horns and drums, fanfare befitting a future queen. Children hold flowers out to you, and you accept them with smiles and musical laughter. It pierces Thor to his core. He’s never heard you laugh before and he’d give anything to keep hearing it. Thor moves forward to help you off the Stag, willing his hands not to tremble as he sets them on your waist.

You smile at him shyly, not quite meeting his eyes and blushing prettily. Thor lets you go when he’s sure of your footing, and you curtsey, “Thank you, my lord,” you say formally, “Your kingdom is beautiful.” You mean it. It feels so open and bright after Madoc’s keep that you could cry. It almost feels like the Forests of Sighs. Somewhere you barely remember in dreams. Thor smiles at you and tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, “I think, under the circumstances, you might call me Thor,” he murmured. You look up at him, briefly and chance enjoying the feel of his fingers brushing the side of your face, closing your eyes and leaning into the touch. Or starting to before a prim cough behind you reminds you to pull away.

Thor swallows hard and turns, tucking your hand into the crook of his arms, presenting you properly to his people and his household. He tucks Carol, Natasha, and Wanda into your household by telling you gently that he thought to have human ladies in waiting might help you to adjust to being in the human world. You smile at them and thank them for their assistance and any resistance they might have had, melts. You look like a deer about to bolt under your polite smile and wide golden eyes. The Stag you rode in on hovers close to your other side and seems to be taking a measure of the assembled people. He makes a soft noise, and you turn, patting his nose. “Thank you, old friend.” You say softly, kissing his forehead. 

The Stag closes his eyes, and you rest your forehead on him for just a second, silently listening to what he had to say. Thor watched unsure what to do until a moment later, when you look up and chuckle, “Wicked thing,” you admonish, “Behave in the stable.” You hand the reins to a waiting groom and Declan follows him. You turn, blushing slightly, “My apologies.” You murmur. “Declan does not like to be kept waiting when he has something to say.” Thor smiled a little, “He speaks to you?” You bite your lip thoughtfully, “After a fashion. He doesn’t use anything as primitive as words.” Thor tucked your hand back in the crook of his arm, “And what did he have to say, my lady?” You blush and smile, “He bid me to tell you that he’s excited to explore the woods and that he is glad that you are giving me a welcome that befits The House of Story and Song. He was afraid you would remember that I am also the would be Queen of the Forests of Sighs.” Thor laughed, a booming belly laugh that made you start. “I am glad he approves, I do not think I would like to meet those horns if he disapproved.” Thor raised your soft hand to his lips, making you blush and surrendered you to Natasha, asking her to show you to your rooms.

You follow Natasha quietly, keeping your eyes open, assessing every move the ladies made to make a plan. The way they flanked you felt like Madoc’s guards and the thought made you shiver reflexively. They weren’t even here, and you felt their hands on you, and you could smell their rancid breath. You swallow hard, clasping your hands together to hide the tremble in your fingers. Thor might have promised you a home, but there was no binding hospitality vow here. The only thing that had offered you any protection with Madoc had no power here, and you feel sick. Natasha opens the door to your rooms for you and steps back so you can inspect them. They are small but cozy. Serviceable. Not so cold and unwelcoming as your old rooms in Madoc’s keep. The ladies seem unsure of what to do and your neck prickles in trepidation. You smile anyway, “Please, sit. Make yourselves comfortable. I shall try not to make too much of a fuss.” They smile at you and set about finding things to do with themselves. You wander over to the instruments that someone had laid carefully along the wall for you. It had been a long time since you were allowed to use the gifts of your house and you bite your lip, unsure if they were there for you to use or if they were a trap. Madoc had long ago forbidden you from playing, singing, or telling tales and you itch to touch the strings of the harp. The instrument calls out to you like a siren. You reach out cautiously, fingers inches away. You can feel the call to play as clearly as you can feel the beat of your heart. If this is a trap, it is cruel. You pull your hand away and close your eyes, chastising yourself. Madoc could have eyes anywhere. Any disobedience means your people will suffer and no song is worth that. 

Natasha and Carol watch the longing in your face as you look at the instruments Thor had painstakingly selected for you and Carol clears her throat, “Your Majesty, will you play for us?” she asked. “I am only a highness,” you correct, thankful you had not touched the harp, “and I cannot play.” It wasn’t a lie, not really. As a fey, even a half breed, you could not lie. “The Princess of story and song cannot play?” Wanda asked incredulously. You say nothing. You do not have to answer them, and silence can be a shield all its own. You turn to the window chastising yourself harshly. The silence stretches on, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter every moment. The knock on the door is a relief. It makes you turn so quickly Natasha reaches out to catch you if you topple over. “Enter,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend it to be and you wince. “Please,” you add in a much gentler tone. Rocket stands in the doorway, “Her Highness is wanted in the Throne room,” he says, “The lunkhead wants to speak with her.” He offers you a hand to take being too small to provide you with his arm and you take it, “Thank you,” she said, “I’m afraid I do not know the way.” Rocket pats your hand, something in you gentles him, “I’ll lead you, Princess.” You smile your thanks politely, and he leads you down the hall. You are quiet, and so Rocket stays quiet. He can hear the way your heart is pounding, and for once, he chooses not to make it worse. At the large oak doors to the Throne room, Rocket pats your hand, “Thor is waiting for you,” he said, sketching an awkward bow. Thor had tried to teach them all how to behave with you, but the lessons had been hurried and too full of jokes for any of them to learn much more than a few basic manners. They’d all gotten so used to seeing Thor as a friend that none of them could see him as a king. Meeting you up close made it all weird. They weren’t sure how to address him when you were near, though, so far as they had seen, you seemed to just accept things as they were. 

You took a deep breath and gestured for the guards to open the door. If you were about to die, you wanted it over with quickly. They complied, and you walk through, feet bare and silent on the flagstones. “Your majesty,” you say quietly, dropping into a curtsey. Thor tried to raise you, and you stayed still, “Your Majesty, I only ask that if you kill me, you kill me quickly and send my body home.” Thor stopped dead in his tracks and dropped his hands from your shoulders, watching silent tears his the flagstones for a moment. “Please, don’t send my body to Madoc for him to disgrace,” you plead. Thor swallows hard and holds out his hands to you, “Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m not going to kill you. I’d sooner stab myself through the heart than raise a hand to you.” When you don’t move his heart cracks for you. You’ve been so strong for so long that you just can’t believe anything could ever change. “Please, sweetheart,” he tries his voice hardly a whisper, “Come and sit with me. Let me explain. When I promised you a home, I meant it.” It was his endearment that made you look up. It had been so long since anyone was kind to you. “Take my hands and come sit with me a while,” he said, “I have much to tell you.” You hesitate for a moment but take the hand he offered you. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, leading you to the small dinner he had laid out to give you time to talk to him. He pauses at the chair he holds for you and cups your cheek in his hands, wiping away tears with his thumbs. You close your eyes and freeze. 

He’s warm, and his hands are gentle. It’s been a long time since anyone has touched you gently. Thor can read your history in your face. In your freeze and the conflicting feelings that practically radiate out of you. At that moment, he decides that you are his. He can’t abide anyone else touching you. He can’t sleep at night if your golden eyes aren’t the first thing he sees in the morning. He sits on the chair and holds his arms out to you, forgetting for a moment that he’s self-conscious of his belly and the softness of his chest and thighs, “Come here, sweetheart?” he asks softly. He desperately wants to hold you. To murmur his plans in your ear and give you a safe place to hide against his shoulder. After what feels like forever you take his hand and he pulls you gently into his lap, cuddling you close. Once he has you, firmly but gently in his arms, your head cradled on his shoulder against his neck, you sigh, and Thor chuckles softly. “That’s it, my love. Just let me hold you awhile.” He traces nonsense patterns against the back of your neck, and you close your eyes, nestling into him, resting a hand on the swell of his stomach. Thor feels himself blush, instantly remembering how embarrassed he is of his body. He wants to stand up. He wants to order you off of him but he just… I can’t. Your softness and the feel of your hair against his cheek, your need to simply be held properly, keep him glued to the spot. 

When he recovers his voice, he murmurs his plans in your ear, trying to reassure you. He tells you about Nat, Carol, and Wanda. He tells you about what they plan for Madoc. He tells you everything. When you pull away to look at him, he loosens his grip. Your eyes are severe and a darker shade of gold in the firelight, “What happens if we fail?” you ask softly. Thor smiles a little and touches the hardened lines of your jaw, “Failure is not an option, sweetheart. We will not fail.” He wants to kiss you. Your lips look as plump and delicious as the rest of you. The vibrant autumnal colors of your features are complemented by the ripe fullness of your figure and the earnestness in your eyes is stoking a fire in his chest that had long been going cold. He can feel some of his powers coming to the surface unbidden and stomps them down when he sees you start to lean into him. He’s never had to use his skills that way before, and he won’t start with you. You’ll come to his bed of your own accord or not at all. 

You’re his Queen, and he won’t dishonor you by taking you on a chair in his throne room. You lean back, confusion in your eyes for a moment and then discomfort when you realize what had just happened. Thor lets you up, helping you gently off his lap, “Dinner is getting cold,” he said cheeks coloring. He settles you in your chair and pushes it in gently before taking his own seat. You serve yourself carefully. Fresh fruit and a few vegetables but none of the other dishes and Thor frowns, “Is none of this to your liking?” he asked concerned. “I cannot abide food cooked in iron,” you say shrugging. Thor winces, “I’m so sorry. I thought that your half-blood status might change that.” You shake your head, “I am afraid not, the iron would burn my throat terribly.” Thor stands, “Allow me to have them make you something you can eat darling. You need not subsist on fruit and some carrots.” You shake your head, “Fortunately I am not hungry,” you murmur. It was true. Your nerves were frayed to breaking, and you felt raw and sore. Thor sat back down, nodding. “Very well, sweetheart. But I will make other provisions for you tomorrow,” he said, “I will not have you going hungry because I made an assumption… Please. This is your home. Tell the kitchens your likes and dislikes. Anything that is here is yours to use; however, you wish.” He bit his tongue to avoid saying, “Myself included,” he really needed to keep himself in check. You were not some courtier he meant to bed. You were to be his true wife and you deserved a soft bed and gentleness. Regardless of what desires you stoked in him.

“Are the instruments in my room a trap?” you ask so quietly that the god takes an extra beat to answer. “No, sweetheart. Those are for you. Madoc’s strictures hold no power here. Whatever he had forbidden you he cannot use to hurt you. Or your people.” You do cry then earnest tears of joy. It had been so long since you had used your powers that you feared they had abandoned you. Thor does not move to hold you but he does ask someone to bring you your harp, anxious to chafe the life back into you, anxious to give you the will to fight again. His research had told him much. Your mother’s council, though disbanded had been trying to keep the forests alive. Trying to keep a throne for you to come back to. They had sent the instruments and the god was ready to hear you play. Even on Asgard, they had heard of your house and he had long wondered what of the stories were true. He smiled as you took your place, head bent and eyes closed.

He smiled until you started to play. Even after 12 years, the call to the strings was strong and you played with such emotion and intensity that Thor’s own meal sat forgotten. He wept at the soaring highs and the darkest lows. You were telling him a story. A story that had no words but painted a picture with such intensity that the whole of his household could feel it. They were drawn to the throne room, standing in mute awe as you played until the very last note. Tears fell all around and the applause startled you out of your reverie, a mix of emotions on your face. You looked to your betrothed, biting your lip as if you expected retribution and Thor only beamed at you, “Well done, my love.” he murmured, crossing the room to kiss your hands only to see your fingers bleeding. He gasped and tilted your chin up gently looking for an answer, “I guess I lost my callouses,” you say, blushing slightly. 

Tag list:

@lancsnerd @fatheadtheroger @ultramagicaltacofandom

[team-free-will-oneshots]

Sticks and Stones

Title: Sticks and Stones

Request/Prompt: 1. The bar thingy to insert my name into your fics is super cool! 2.Would you write something where the reader is feeling some self-doubt because of how their mother emotionally abused them as a child, and Sam encourages them and makes them feel like their reaction to the abuse is valid? I would so grateful if you would, but only if you're comfortable with it. It's a heavy topic, so I 100% understand if you don't want to. Again, please don't feel obligated to complete it! Thank you! -- @meticulouswreck

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: ANGST ! Negative self talk !!! Mentions of abuse !!

Word Count: 1,980-ish

note; first off, sorry this came later than expected! secondly, i’m glad u like the bar thing ! i hope this is what you were looking for. i know this is a sensitive topic so i tried to approach it as carefully as i could, but if i made mistakes or you need me to change anything please message me so i can! x

also, unrelated but i was listening to “Let Me In” by Gabrielle Aplin while i wrote this and i highly recommend the song its A+, 11/10

__________

It was always worse at night.

The echoes of her words, your mother’s words, would creep slyly from the recesses of your mind, warping your thoughts, twisting your inner voice to mirror her own. Old conversations stained your rare happy moments, harsh accusations snapped at your every action. Somewhere along the line, the painful memories had distorted your own thoughts, and you’d adopted her harsh criticism - perhaps that was the worst tragedy of all. She couldn’t torment you anymore, but she’d taught you to torment yourself.

Sam slept beside you, eyelids fluttering with his dreams, his jaw slack, no longer tightened with the stress the daytime always bring. You envied him - the night was his solace, but it was your hell. Even Sam’s arms wrapped loosely around your waist, his gentle breath fanning over your neck, could not erase the doubt that crippled you.

He doesn’t love you. Why would he? You’re not good enough for someone like him. He’s a hero, and you’re… no-one.

You clenched your jaw to restrain your sob, channelling it into heavy breathing as your blurry eyes focussed on the roof. You tried to distract yourself, seeking out cracks in the ceiling, stains on the walls, but your eyes couldn’t erase the words reverberating through your skull. You couldn’t even tell whether they were in her voice or yours.

Sam shifted in his sleep, and you felt your heart stop as you paused with bated breath, watching him cautiously… his lips parted in a quiet snore, and you relaxed. The last thing you needed was to wake him up. He deserved the little rest he got, you weren’t going to be the one to deprive him of that. You were burden enough, in your mind.

Daytime was never this hard - surrounded by Sam, Dean and Cas, enveloped in chatter and laughter and teasing, it was easier to drown out your thoughts. But at nighttime, your thoughts were your only company. The weight of them crushed you, pulling shaky breaths from your lips and tears from your eyes. You needed a distraction.

You rested your hand on Sam’s arm, slung over your stomach and holding you close - a reassurance that you were there, with him, that you hadn’t met the same fate as all too many of his exes. But as he slept, it was easy to crawl out from beneath the youngest Winchester, leaving him snoring peacefully and tangled in sheets.

Releasing a shaky sigh, you grabbed your coat and left the room. You weren’t quite sure where you were headed, you just knew you needed to get out. The more you paced around the bunker, the more stuffy it grew. Her words… your words, crowded your mind and threatened to choke you, to snuff out the little hope you had left. And so, when you saw the Impala’s keys lying on the library desk, your fingers closed around the cold metal without a second thought.

The cold air slammed into you as you left the cosy confines of the bunker. Your cheeks and ears burned raw with the chill, and you dug your hands into your pockets as you walked towards the car, parked along the curb. The tears on your cheeks were beginning to freeze when you managed to unlock the door with clumsy fingers, and you were quick to thrust the keys into the ignition.

The Impala stuttered and shuddered with the cold, but eventually roared to life, the noise settling into a steady purr as you turned on the heater and rubbed your hands together before the small vents. As the blood began to return to your fingertips, you rested them on the cool wheel and prepared to pull away from the curb, only to halt as something tapped lightly on the passenger window.

Your heart was sent racing at the sound, the haste throbbing drowning out your thoughts as your breath caught. Leaning over, you rolled down the window and breathed an initial sigh of relief as you saw it was just Sam, bleary eyed and still in his pyjamas. Even his feet were bare, and you quickly ushered him in so he wouldn’t catch a cold.

“What are you doing?” you asked in a quiet voice, though there was no one around to hear you. Sam’s brow creased in concern.

“I woke up, and you were gone. I couldn’t find you inside, and I got worried, so...”

A small smile twisted your lips. “So you came to rescue me? Pyjamas and all?” you teased, and he huffed a laugh, leaning back against the seat.

“Yeah, well, maybe that part wasn’t quite thought out,” he admitted, and his humorous tone softened as he saw the tear stains on your cheeks and the red rims of your eyes. “Are you okay? What are you doing out here?”

You sighed, shaking your head slightly and leaning against the steering wheel. Sam paused as he sensed your unwillingness to talk. “I know what it feels like, wanting to escape,” he said eventually. “It feels like I spent my whole life running. From hunting, from my dad, and now from whatever big bad each year seems to bring. I used to sneak out and go for drives at night. Pick a direction and just go until I saw the sun. Dean would give me shit for it the next day, but it was nice to leave everything behind. Just for a night.” He glanced over at you pointedly, and you gave him a slight nod.

“Yeah. I get that. I get that alot,” you admitted. And although you hadn’t thought you’d ever allow yourself to share your feelings, you felt you’d explode if you didn’t. Sam had that effect on you - being around him left you feeling so utterly safe that you didn’t feel quite as much like a burden, not during the moment at least. Those feelings came later.

“Okay, I...I’ll talk. But I’m not good with… sharing stuff, so… I’m gonna drive so I have something else to focus on, okay?” You spared him a glance from the corner of your eye, catching sight of his gentle, satisfied smile and his accepting nod.

“Okay,” Sam replied. You released a shaky breath as you put the car into drive and pulled onto the road, headlights illuminating the long, narrow stretch ahead of you. Your knuckles were white on the steering wheel, fingers circling it so tightly that your nails bit into the palms of your hands, leaving small, reddened crescent marks. Your mouth was drier than cotton and you opened your mouth to begin, only to find yourself closing it again.

“Sorry,” you said eventually. “I… I’m not used to- to people actually wanting to listen to me,” you admitted. Your voice was small, barely rising above a whisper, but Sam heard it anyway.

“Why don’t you start with… why you got out of bed at three am?” he suggested lightly. You swallowed and licked your lips before beginning.

“I guess… I guess it mostly comes down to self doubt?” Your voice tilted into a question, and Sam nodded slowly.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked. You released another shaky sigh.

“I… I guess I just don’t ever feel good enough,” you mumbled. “Not a good enough hunter, not good enough for you, not a good enough… person. Just… a burden,” you surmised. Something about saying the words out loud, hearing your broken voice piercing the silence of the car, made your feelings seem all too real. You swallowed thickly.

“Y/N…” Sam whispered, his tone heavy with empathy. “Why would you think that? How could you ever possibly think that?”

You forced a short, sharp laugh that was too loud in the quiet night. “Honestly? My mother,” you got out. “She… that’s what she always told me,” you continued eventually. “I was just a burden on her, good for nothing, never… never enough. And she had no qualms telling me.” You chuckled dryly. “I feel bad even talking about this with you now… she never wanted to know how I felt, not really. Sometimes it felt like she didn’t want to know me at all.”

The gravity of your hurt seemed to crush you as the words left your lips, and you couldn’t bite back your sobs anymore. You pulled over, and as soon as the car was off, Sam was shifting closer to you. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your knee and his large hand found yours, encasing it entirely.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, and slowly, your tears began to subside. When your breathing evened, Sam spoke again. “I don’t want you to ever feel bad sharing how you feel with me,” he told you. “Or if you don’t want to talk to me, you can talk to Dean. Or Cas. Hell, call Jody! But I love you, okay? We all do. You’re the furthest thing from a burden.”

His words made tears spring to your eyes yet again. “I just- I just feel so stupid even feeling like this still! It was- it was so long ago, I was only a kid. I have you guys now, my new family, and I know you love me, I do, I promise. I just… I can’t shake this constant feeling of self doubt. It’s like I can never escape her,” you whispered, and Sam shook his head slightly, pulling you into his arms.

It was hard to hug him in the small confines of the car, especially with his height, but he curled his frame over you protectively as he held you close to his chest. You could smell traces of soap on his skin, the light stubble on his jaw rubbing on your cheeks, his hair tickling your skin. His warmth enveloped you, and you could feel his heart beating steadily beneath his shirt. You’d never felt so safe.

“Don’t feel stupid,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. “These kinds of things… they leave scars. And it hurts, but it’s okay, as long as you keep moving forward. I can’t promise that it will ever stop hurting, but it’s okay to feel it. Your feelings are valid, okay? So long as you remember you have us now, and we’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam’s voice fell to a whisper, and you pulled away, sniffling and nodding.

“Thanks, Sam,” you whispered, and he gave you a sad smile, his large hand cradling your cheek as he gently wiped a tear from your cheek. You could feel the calluses on his skin, a result of years of hunting. And though you knew these hands had ended many a monster, and held so much strength, he touched you with such tenderness, such… reverence... And you knew his words rang true. This man would be there for you, always. Through hell and highwater, he would never leave your side unless you ordered him away.

“Well… we should probably get the car back home before Dean finds out we stole it,” Sam said teasingly, and you found yourself giggling and nodding despite yourself.

“Yeah, he’ll kill us,” you agreed. Sam’s fingertips lingered on your cheek a moment longer, running gently along your cheekbone, tracing your lips… and slowly, his mouth brushed over yours. The kiss wasn’t as intense and passionate as ones you had shared before - no, this was soft and sweet and slow. It rang of a promise, and warmed the blood in your veins as goosebumps rose on your skin. He left you breathless when you pulled away, but instead of sending your head spinning, it finally allowed your thoughts to settle.

“You okay?” Sam checked when you didn’t speak. A slow, shy smile spread across your face.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

And for the first time in a long while, you meant it.

[a-simple-imagine]

Nothing But Co-Stars

Requested by anonymous: I was hoping to get a Gemma Chan story where she and reader worked on captain Marvel together and are high key in love and like the media finds out or something!

Pairing: Gemma Chan x fem!reader

Words: 1937

A/N - 2 posts in one day?? AND I have 3 more coming. This is so unlike me. I did say I would do all my requests before endgame which I’m seeing tomorrow. Since I’ve been avoiding spoilers it’s given me a lot of time to write. I have 5 open spots for requests so throw them at me. 

I was gonna make this fluffy but you know whats better than fluff? angst. I left it on a cliff hanger too

You glance anxiously towards your partner in this interview. You were looking for an answer; some indication of whether she wanted to talk about it or just move on. The woman just smiles softly and you turn back to the interviewer. You can answer a simple question. Nothing suspicious about that.

"Yeah, we become pretty close while working on the set together- as did all the cast."

"I agree." Gemma nods. "I think working on any show or movie you kind of become like a little family for a while. So I've been spending a lot of time with Y/N."

"You two were spotted out for dinner together quite a few times." The interviewer adds.

"Oh yeah. What can I say she makes a great dinner date." You insist with a soft chuckle.

"Y/N actually was late to our last dinner date," Gemma added.

"Okay, I actually have an excuse for that."

"Which is?"

"It's nothing major, I just had a really long day. I had just finished up some press with Brie and it ran a little later than expected. And these two girls run up to us asking for pictures. So I'm taking pictures of them with Brie because y'know she's Captain Marvel. I was surprised when they asked for one with me, it made me feel like a star. Anyway, this girl is standing next to me. I have one arm around her and she just whispers in my ear, will you strangle me?"

"What?" The interviewer seemed surprised but amused.

"Yeah, I was like so confused and Brie is just laughing next to me. I sadly had to tell her that I would not choke her but we were both shook."

"You never told me that."

You shrug casually, glancing in your co-star's direction. "Never needed to. I didn't think it was relevant, I wasn't that late to dinner."

The interview continues normally. You talk about the film. Answered some vaguely personal questions. And when it was over, you retreated to your black SUV with the rest of your team. Surprised when Gemma slips into the seat beside you a few moments later.

"Do you not have your own car?"

"Thought we may as well share." She insisted, hand settling on your thigh. You smile warmly at her.

"I was gonna head back and go for a run but how about we grab lunch instead?"

She nodded a little. You had your driver/security guard take a detour to a small cafe downtown. This thing with Gemma had been going on for a while now but letting the world know wasn't part of the plan yet. So it requires a lot of sneaking around. You share lunch at this small french style cafe. You chat about anything everything. It was pleasant. It was undisturbed. And for just a moment you forget that for some messed up reason you're more than just two people having lunch. Brushes of hands. Longing glances. As you leave, your hands are intertwined. A peck on the cheek before you slip into you car and she gets in the one behind. You go your separate ways after that like nothing happened. You had to be in a different places tomorrow.

"We have a problem," your assistant announces as your speeding down the road. Tapping away on her phone beside you. You're preoccupied, recording the current song on the radio to post to your Instagram story.

"Have you seen TMZ?"

You don't register the question right away but when you do you shrug. "Who got a DUI now?"

"I don't know. I'm more worried about you," you glance at her briefly before looking out the window. Cars pass by. An old woman walks her dog. A young man skateboards down the street with what looks like an ice pop. "Can we get ice cream on the way home?"

"What are you five years old?" Your drive asks. His tone is playful.

"A five year old who also happens to be your boss." You flash a tight-lipped smile in your driver's direction. Continuing to scroll through your Instagram feed. Completely ignoring most of the posts just minding your own business. Your team chatted around you. You could hear what they were saying but you just weren't registering any of it.

"Y/N. You were planning to keep your blossoming relationship with Miss. Chan a secret were you not?"

"For now." You respond with a small nod. "A lot of people date their costars so I just wanna make sure there's something here and it's not just because we've been working together. I don't want this to be promo."

"TMZ posted about you."

A split second of panic. "About the interview? That was fast."

"No about you two." She held her phone up for you. Your Y/E/C eyes narrow in on the English actress and yourself. Your lips pressed to her cheek. Hands intertwined.

'Y/N Y/L/N cosies up with co-star Gemma Chan during lunch date'

Uncreative. Straight to the point. Definitely TMZs style. But it was just one news outlet. No big deal. It's not like they caught you doing anything bad. You open Twitter and check your official mentions. More outlets had taken the opportunity to write about it. You're not a massive star but enough to peak the interest of the media. Enough for an otherwise slow news day. Fuck. It had been a brief laps in judgment. Hardly anyone was around. You decide to let the news linger for now. No need to confirm or deny. You open Instagram and take a selfie. No caption. Just a time filter. You get the ice cream you wanted. Deciding upon Mint chocolate chip. You also put that on your Instagram story. People who don't like mint choc are tasteless as a caption. 3 posts were enough to satisfy what fans you had. It makes you seem active and like you're engaging with your fans when you've hardly put in any effort. You return to your moderate size apartment. It overlooks the city. It looks beautiful at night. Your team leaves you alone not too long after that. You go for a jog with your dog. It's peaceful. There's safety in numbers. On returning, you take a shower to which you perform Beyoncé's greatest hits before retiring to your living room. The word room used loosely because your apartment is open floor. You place your shark mug - the body of a great white, fins and all made up the mug and the tail made up the handle - of hot chocolate atop a low glass coffee table alongside your iPad. You take up space between the table which is sat on a plush carpet and the couch which rests on laminate. You switch on the tv more so for background noise than anything else. Deciding to watch The Good Wife. You've been binge-watching it lately. It's good. And then you call her. A few rings pass by and she picks up. Her face swimming into view. You smile at her and she returns it.

"We need to talk," you say quietly. Picking up your mug of hot chocolate; for a moment you're amused by its quirkiness. You blow gently on the surface. Your attention on the drama unfolding on screen.

"You saw?"

"I did." You reply, daring to take a sip. It was really hot. Burns the end of your tongue but you can tell it's gonna taste great. You keep the mug in your hands allowing the heat to transfer to your skin.

"What are you watching?" She wonders clearly noticing your lack of attention.

"The good wife." You answer, turning back to her. "So, what do we do?"

"What do you want to do?"

You shrug. It's not a question you should decide on your own and so you had left it until now to truly think about. "Maybe it's time to just tell everyone."

Her expression is unreadable and so you divert back to Alicia as she battles yet another court case. She seems to be winning.

"Really?" By her tone, you can tell she's not entirely on board with the idea. But she's also not trying to come off as malicious or embarrassed. Just cautious. Being in the public eye could be great but it was also unforgiving. It was progressive but unprogressive. For every person who loved you, there were ten more lining up to tell you you're a piece of shit. Talentless. Your words were always being twisted. Every step of your life became strategic. To some extent, you did whatever you wanted but you had a publicist that kept you from doing anything stupid. Usually, she would be on the phone right now. Maybe she was. You had left your phone in the kitchen on silent for a reason.

"I just don't think Its best right now,"

"For us?" You question as your stare down the iPad screen. "Or to be telling everyone?"

The hesitation is worrying but you don't question it. You decide not to make a big deal out of it.

"Telling everyone." She eventually answers. She's not looking at you and you wonder where her attention lies.

"Why?" You ask immediately. Brow cocked in curiosity.

"I just... don't think it's the right time. "

"Then what do you want to do?" You ask, bringing your shark mug to your lips and taking a large sip. It warmed your entire body.

"I don't know," She answers. "can't we ignore it?"

"Sure," You nod, returning your gaze to the tv. "but people are still gonna think we're together so why not just tell them?"

"Y/N, please." Your disappointed in her soft words but you had been expecting them.

"I'm gonna talk to my publicist, see what we can do." You explain.

"Thank you,"

"I kinda want to tell everyone though." You mumble casually. More to yourself than her. She didn't seem like she was going to change her mind any time soon. "What does your publicist say?"

"I told her I wanted to ignore it. See what happens."

"Oh." You nod a little. "Okay then."

"How was your run?"

You glance back to her. Taking in a little more of your drink. She was changing the conversation so I guess that was the end of that. "It was good."

A silence comes between both of you. It's a little awkward but that's because you're a little disheartened. The circumstances had changed. Everyone had already caught a glimpse so why does she still want to hide? You can't wrap your head around it. What was she so scared of. You watch her through the screen. Listening to the TV show in the background.

"I'm gonna go." You eventually say. "I'll call you when I'm done with press tomorrow."

"Oh- yeah, okay." She offers you an unsure smile.

"I'll see you later Gemma,"

"Wait Y/N, I-" you cut off the feed before she can finish her sentence. You down the contents of your mug before raising to your feet. You exchange your mug with the phone in the kitchen and retire to the couch. Your pup comes along and lies down next you. Head falling to rest in your lap. You hand brushes through its soft fur. You unlock your phone and finally return the missed call.

"So what's the plan?"

"Tell me what you want?"

With an unfocused gaze on the screen, you sigh. "She wants to ignore it."

"I didn't ask what she wants, I don't work for her. What do you want to do?"

You hesitate for a moment. "I... want everyone to know."

[villainqueen]

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell - Chapter 3

V X Fem!Reader fanfiction, set after the events of Devil may Cry 5.

Prologue /  Chapter 1 /  Chapter 2 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

Ao3 [Link]

Chapter 3

How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing?

 August 1st 12:10 pm

Nero and V went through a long corridor, following the sound of gunshots and several screams. They soon got to the source of the noises, as reached the inner courtyard that was filled with fountains, angel sculptures, most of them overgrown with ivy, and a wide variety of flowerbeds. The fountain in the middle was dry and the water in it muddy and green, yet the place didn't make the impression it was vacant for over more than a few years. Something that was of much more interest, was the tower on the other side of the courtyard. The door was locked by a heavy chain, keeping the Misra demons, that were desperately trying to get inside, out. At least for the time being. However, another possibility was that, whatever was inside that tower, was locked up there cause even the windows of it were endowed with metal bars. Regardless, not all demons were scratching at that one door, most of them were busy fighting with a group of humans, the majority of them already fallen. Nero didn’t waste time shooting bullets at a demon that was on top of one of the remaining, living men.

"What a mess. Come on stupid monkeys, why not fight someone in your own league?" Nero exclaimed as he went straight into battle with the demons. V who couldn't summon Griffon, helped the remaining people to get to safety.

"T-thanks, we didn't think that we'd get surrounded by so many of them..." said one of them while trying to catch his breath. Three men survived this surprise attack. One of them on the wedge of death, due to wound in his chest. The other two appeared unharmed yet deeply shaken. They clearly were a group of demon hunters themselves, or rather wannabe demon hunters. Armed to the teeth with guns and close combat weapons like swords and knifes yet they're clearly lacked experience. Otherwise they wouldn't let themselves getting cornered by so many enemies who are weak by themselves but have the strength in numbers.

“You better take that guy and get out of here, otherwise you might join your fallen comrades." declared V calmly as he pointed his cane to the wounded hunter. With an understanding nod they took their comrade and went same route V and Nero previously came through. That path should be clear of all demons for now but that didn’t mean it stayed that way for long.

"If they hurry up, they'll might survive" muttered V while turning back to Nero, who had almost eradicated all demons by himself.

"You know what V, you could help me out a bit more!"

"Apologies, I'm not at my full strength, yet. But since you're already done, let us continue."

"Fine by me, which way?" as soon as Nero's question was spoken, V raised his cane pointing towards the door of the tower.

"Whatever is locked in that strange tower had the demons’ interest. I suggest taking a look ourselves."

"Sure, and you think it's a good idea to disturbed whatever is locked up in a dungeon? If we unleash hell on earth, you'll be the one to clean up the mess this time." Nero replied with annoyance but went up to the door regardless. With a few shots from the Blue Rose aimed at the lock, it cracked open.

"Good thing we came in time, I'm sure the demons were close to break inside!" muttered Nero after ripping the chains away from the door.

"How peculiar. Not only the demons but the church is also searching for something in this place. This was the originally purpose for this mission. Clearing this castle of any demon activity was only a secondary objective. A façade so to speak. I think it would be better if we found, whatever they're looking for, before they do."

They opened the heavy door with a loud creak. Something that indicated that this door was kept closed for a long time.

"After you." offered Nero as he made an inviting gesture with his hand. "You wanted to get in there, so you get eaten by whatever's locked inside first." he joked.

V stepped through the door followed by Nero, searching through each and every room in this tower. All of them prison cells long unoccupied. They were shabby and dark with few furnishings. Like one would expect. However, none was inhabited till they reached the last one at the top. A faint rustling of fabric and the rattling of chains was echoing through the silence of this place. The door to that cell was not even locked, which further indicated it was highly possible that there was never any other prisoner inside the tower, beside whoever was in kept in that room. V slowly pushed the door open. In this small room sat a woman on a simple wooden chair beside a barred window. She was dressed in a white silk dress, that was almost thin enough to see through yet still hid her skin underneath and had heavy chains around her wrists and ankles. The most striking of all features was the iron masked she wore, obscuring her face and clearly her view, leaving her blind.

 Once V went inside the cell, you tilted your head in his direction and spoke in a calm but gentle voice; "Who art thou? This is the prison chamber of a maiden. Tarnished, it shall not be, by the feet of men." Your voice took V a bit by surprise. How could a woman be kept here all those years and still live? The castle was at least sealed for half a century. Their theory must have been right, time stopped for everything inside the castle, including this prisoner.

"Okay, didn't really expect to find a woman here…" Nero said in disbelief to V as he followed behind him.

"My apologies for the intrusion, we are demon hunters, out here to kill the evil that infested in this place. And you are?" asked V in a curious but almost friendly tone. The last thing he wanted was scaring you. And the mystery of this mission just became a great deal bigger. Was the church searching for a girl? Did the demon attack the castle because of you? Or was it all just a coincidence?

"Thou'rt forgiven. I am (Y/N), prisoner of Dunscaith castle and to this wretched mask."

"Man, why do I always meet the weirdos?" Nero sighed in annoyance. "So V, what do you think? She gives up some really strange vibes but-" Nero stopped himself before he could finish the sentence, but V understood what he meant. To him you gave of an elusive feeling, soothing not at all threatening, yet clearly something not human. It wasn't impossible that you were a demon, deceiving humans by taking a less threating form, this was basically demon 101. That made it not unlikely that the demons and maybe even the church were after you.

"Whatever she is, I doubt it's a coincidence that she's kept here. And that means we have only two options, either kill her or take her with us."

"Kill her? I'm all for killing demons you could almost say I love it but really, killing a defenseless woman? Nah, there is no fun in that." mumbled Nero clearly uneasy with the thought. Nero was a little punk at times sure, but he had his heart at the right place.

While lowering your head down you spoke again: "So be it, I can no longer resist ye."

"Hey hey, wait we're not killing you!" panicked Nero a bit. While V, who had his eyes fixed on the you, the imprisoned woman. He clearly had his trouble interpreting your behavior. If you really were a demon, why offering your head so willingly to them? It just wouldn't make a lot of sense. Would a demon take its charade that far?

"Let's take her with us. We can't leave her here with all the demons lurking around." with that V took a few steps towards you grabbing your arm slightly, to gently lead you out of the tower.

"May I pose thee a question? By what name shall I address ye both?" you asked with a quiet, muffled voice. It made V almost chuckle. It was a welcome difference to hear someone talk with manners unlike his other acquaintances.

"You can call me V and that boy, that is Nero."

As they arrived at the tower door in the inner courtyard, V released you from his touch. The place where his hand touched you burned slightly; you weren’t used to any touch at all. And even though you could not see your surroundings, it was a relief to be freed from our dusty cell. It was clearly visible through your mannerisms as you relaxed your tense body just a little.

"Thou'st a kind heart. To speak to a captive such as I."

"I don’t really get what she is saying. Anyway, we still need to kill the rest of the demons here. Not gonna lie, could be difficult if we have to babysit her!" Nero declared while scratching his head.

"Who dares to say he is going to kill us? Don't you know who we are, puny mortal?" Suddenly a demon jumped from the roof across the yard down in front of them. It had the shape of a bull with its head split open and two horns on each side. In the middle where the spilt normally should reveal its insides, was a mess of teeth and flesh visible. Its body wasn't more pleasant to look at either as it was rotting away. A sickly sweet the smell underlined this further.

"Jeez, I’ve seen some ugly fucks but you, you're on another level. That's a face not even a mother could love!" taunted Nero the demon bull.

"How dare you! We are Gulganna the great demon and you, give her to us and we’ll might kill you last!"

 August 1st 10:00 am

Dante walked alongside the aisle of an imposing chapel cheerful whistling the melody of some famous gospel song. This caught the attention of a praying priest who sat in the front row of benches, his holy book in hand.

"In the name of our lord, I do!" Dante joked as he arrived at the altar, turning in an overdramatic fashion to the priest. The priest, visible unamused by Dante’s eccentrics, gave him an unfriendly glare as he spoke: "And how can I help you son, do you wish to confess or pray?"

"Confess, yes that's a really nice keyword here. How about you're gonna start with that!" said Dante while raising one of his guns fight in front of the priests face.

"Son, you are in a house of god!"

"Yeah, I was never the religious type and a gun makes your kind talk much faster. Believe me, not the first time I tried… so much for a vow of silence, am I right?"

"You wouldn't dare to commit such an act in this holy place!"

Bang!

As soon as the priest finished his sentence Dante fired his Ebony right next to that man’s face, leaving a bullet hole in the wooden bench. "Now how about you answer a few questions, you know who I am?"

"A demon spawn, that is what you are! Born out of debauchery between a witch and a demon. A vile creature!" shouted the priest with strong disdain in this voice. Dante didn't care about these types of insults; he was used to the holier-than-thou attitude of churches and their devoted people. And needless to say, he wasn't much of a fan.

"Yeah sure, anyway let's get straight to the point, shall we? The other clerics I visited so far told me, you’d know more. What is the deal with castle Dunscaith?"

"You would not even begin to comprehend. The rapture is upon us! The angel will come and open the heavens for us and we, the faithful, will ascend to a higher plane. We will shred humanity and embrace the divine!" With each word the priest spoke he became more ecstatic and deranged. Dante could recognize a fanatic when he saw one and this was not the first one, he encountered over the years.

"Oh great, I don't speak lunatic so how about you tell that's going on before I'll have to end you?"

"Killing me won't change much I am merely a humble servant. Everything is already in motion. The angel will arrive soon!"

"Sure... and will this angel bring the tooth fairy and santa with him?" Dante laughed. He was ready to believe a lot but angels? All angel like beings he met were demons in disguise. He was pretty sure there was no such place as heaven.

"You may mock us now, but the enemy of your demonic kind, will bring forth your end!"

Bang!

For a second time Dante fired his gun, missing the priest face only by a few inches, leaving him shocked behind. Whatever they're planning, Dante knew now that this was not something, he could just label as pure nonsense. Fanatics were dangerous and whatever this supposed angel that promised them salvation, was; it was alarming.

 August 1st 12:50 pm

"Normally I am all for beef jerky but damn you look already rotten!" Nero mocked the demon bull as he was ready to beat it to minced meat. "Hey V, you're ready again?"

"Yes, this won't take long." V answered while summoning Griffon.

"Yo V, do I look like a vulture to you? Picking apart the rotten ain't my style!" Griffon cawed as the gracefully landed on his masters outstretched arm.

"How dare you making fun of the great Gulganna!" And with that, the bull charged towards Nero and V. You, however, couldn't see what was going on around you and so you thought that it was for the best to simply move away from all the voices. Nevertheless, Gulgannas attacks were easily avoided by the two demon hunters. Griffon just took V by his claws and lifted him out of the charge attack, while Nero used his coattend to wave it around like a matador.

"Olé! Come on cow, here I am!" he teased his opponent. Gulganna looked impressive but was clearly not the smartest and easy to enrage. This meant also he was less good at focusing on more than one person at a time.

Once you heard that V landed not far away, you turned to his direction and asked: "Sir V? While this moment might not be ideal, I only wish to be of some genuine assistance! Please, I beg of thee, remove this mask for I cannot by myself!"

"Yo missy, you think we got time for that now?!" Griffon answered for his partner. The very same moment Gulganna faced their way and spit a yellow-green secretion in your and V's direction, missing both of you only by a few feet. The fluid landed on one of the many angel statures that decorated the inner courtyard, just to melt it away.

"Okay that's just gross!" was Nero shouting from a far as he shot Gulganna in one half of his splitten face.

"We better get that woman out of that mask before she gets hit! Griffon, in the meantime, make that demon bleed!"

"Yes, yes, Griffon do this, Griffon do that. What am I, a carrier pigeon?" the flying demon companion complained as he was sending flashes down onto the bull. V used time, provided by the distraction, to examine your iron masked. "You better not making us regret getting you out of this!"

"Thou art my savior, if mine power be need'st, I shall assist thee! Hereby I promise, I will repay this small kindness!"

"No need just find a place to hide for now." soon after he spoke those words, your mask fell on the floor, revealing a face that was hidden for such a long time. V couldn't help himself but stare. Your eyes were gentle and warm, your lips full and red. V couldn't deny that you were indeed a beauty.

As for you, it was the first time in years for you, to see something else than darkness. After it took a moment to accustom your eyes to the sunlight, you let your sight swiftly go through the place, to grasp the situation. Your gaze came to a stop, as you met eyes with the man who just helped you. He clearly was attractive. Black hair, wonderful green eyes, strange markings on his body. After a few seconds of intensive eye contact the noise of the fight behind, brought both of you back to the current situation. There was no time for that now, after all, there was still a demon spitting his acid saliva in every direction.

"My most humble thanks. Thou shalt not go unrewarded!" slowly you stood up, carefully making your way to a nearby puddle of acid.  With precision you dipped your shackles in the liquid, freeing yourself out of the confinement. V decided to keep an eye on your movement, not sure if he could trust you or not. Regardless, the situation wasn’t one where they should refuse any help. He couldn't keep Griffon up for long and while Nero was certainly capable of dealing with that demon on his own, due to the many puddles of acid on the floor, the courtyard became a much more limited space for them to move in.

"You BSE infected cow! How about you stop vomiting all over the floor, that smell starts making me sick!" Nero shouted annoyed as he rammed his Red Queen in the mouthlike crack on its head, just to get showered by an incoming burp. However, Nero was a quick witted one and turned to his devil form in the last second, avoiding becoming meat soup on the ground.

"Fuck, that shit is just gross!" Nero cursed and was laughed at from above by Griffon: "Can't say I smell a difference!"

"Just shut up, bird! And you, you fat cow, now you've done it! Playtime is over!"

Soon after Nero cursed at Gulganna, it began to charge at him again. Yet was unable to corner him as he was much more agile in his demon form. The demon’s life would soon come to an end, as Griffon attacked him with his thunderbolts from the side, Nero punched his front into bloody pieces and a few beams of light came from the sky piecing through the demon bull’s body. The last attack came from you, who was standing behind Gulganna with your right hand outstretched to the sky as if you were commanding the heaven itself.

"For thee, no mercy shall be shown." you told the demon in a gentle voice. A dying Gulganna now lying on the ground cries out to you: "You, you are the one! The master will get you!"

"Is it so? My apologies, oh great demon bull Gulganna but we must part now. Thou shalt not go unpunished!" And as you voiced these last words to him, you reached your hand inside of its chest, ripping out something buried beneath its flesh.

[buckymcbuttfacebarnes]

when hands touch (2/?)

wht masterlist

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: abt 1800

summary: a pair of two best friends, bucky barnes and y/n live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. it is only natural that they spend a majority of their time together.

a/n: fookin soft shite, next part is going to be halloween-related hehe

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“You owe me.”

You wake up to Bucky’s voice. Husky and faraway sounding. Blindly you reach in the space beside you, but he is not there. The sheets still feel warm, he’d only just woken up.

“Owe you for what?” You croak, refusing to open your eyes.

“For trying to kill me last night.”

The broccoli incident.

“But you lived.”

“That’s not the point, Y/N.”

You turn onto your stomach and pull the duvet over your head. “You’re weak.”

“Being susceptible to the effects of poison has nothing to do with physical strength,” he points out. You can feel him climbing onto the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight. “How long do you plan on staying bed anyway?” he asks.

When you don’t answer him he slides beneath the duvet too where it’s warm and he can see your face. He lies close to you, his head resting on the very edge of your pillow. Still, you keep your eyes shut.

His fingertips seem timid at first, his touch barely there, a whisper. He touches your brow bone, and ghosts across your hairline. Then he gets brave, maybe even a little impatient, and uses his thumb to swipe upwards at the skin of your eyelid, forcing your eye open.

You see his face, grinning with a juvenile mischief that makes you smile too. You hide it by turning your face into your pillow and feigning annoyance.

“This is why you can’t keep a girl, Buck. You’re annoying as hell.”

“This is why you can’t keep a man, you’re always annoyed as hell,” he mocks, propping head up with one hand.

“Speakin’ of girls, how’s Marissa?”

“Melissa.”

“Same thing. How is she?” Without thinking you reach out and rake your fingers through his hair, smoothing it out of its bedhead state. Neither of you notice the way he inclines his head towards your hand, leaning so naturally into your touch. 

“How would I know?”

You roll your eyes. “You’ve been seeing her for like four months, what do you mean how would you know?”

“I don’t keep tabs on her.”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“We don’t like labels.”

“You don’t like labels,” you correct him.

“Neither does she.”

Finally you turn your head to look at him once again. His mouth still quirked crookedly and his eyebrows raised in an attempt at achieving the look of innocence. “Your breath is awful,” you say.

“Yours isn’t so fresh either, gorgeous.”

You both laugh. He tugs the blanket from over your heads and you both take in a deep breath. The air is cool and the room is brighter than you had expected it to be. Your thick duvet filtered out the light until it had been nothing but a dim glow. You throw your arm over your eyes.

“What time is it?”

“It’s eleven thirty.”

“See, it’s not that late, Buck,” you whine.

“It’s late enough. I’m hungry.”

“You have a home.”

“A home with no food.”

You make a noise that’s halfway between a grunt and a groan and he laughs.

“No, it’ll be fun,” he talks quickly, touching your elbow, “Listen, we can go for a quick slice or something and then didn’t you say you had to go grocery shopping or something.”

You peek at him from beneath your arm, brows knitting together. “Since when do you care about grocery shopping?”

“Since forever! This place is where I get most of my meals.”

“You’d die without me.”

“I would,” Bucky flashes his pearly whites and presses a loud smack of a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be back in fifteen, alright?”

You wonder if the heat of his lips has left a mark on your skin.

Forty five minutes later the two of you were walking side by side down Fulton Street, large slices of greasy pizza in your hands. It’s chilly out, but that’s how the both of you like it. Just cold enough for a hat and maybe some gloves. On your head is one of the beanies you had purchased for Bucky two years ago. He typically wore baseball caps, but every now and then he’d slip a beanie on just to appease you. Today was not one of those days.

“What’s the matter with you?” You finally ask. The question had been lingering on the tip of your tongue for the past hour.

He makes a face and shrugs. “Nothing...What’s the matter with you?” A smile curves at his mouth. He’s lying.

“You’ve been oddly quiet,” you say in a sing-song tone, glancing up at him. The tip of his nose is pink with the autumn chill.

He takes a bite out of his pizza, stalling, and struggles with the melted, stringy cheese.

“Buck, c’mon.”

Bucky’s smile grows wider. “What? I said nothing!”

“I knew something was wrong with you the minute you showed up with all that food yesterday, so just spit it out. What’s wrong? Did something happen?” You urge. “Is it your mom? Are you sick?”

He stays silent, there are crinkles by his eyes.

“Oh God,” you say, grinning too at your sudden realization. “Is it...Marissa?”

“Melissa.”

“Same thing! Is it her?” You have to stop yourself from laughing. “Oh—It’s her isn’t it? Did y’all breakup?”

“Yes.”

“Yesterday? Before you came over?”

He makes a face and tilts his head up to the sky in a show of mock exasperation, “Yes.”

“So that’s why you’ve been acting like such a crybaby,” you frown sympathetically, looping your hand beneath his arm to gently rub his bicep. “Aw,” you coo, “That’s so cute.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but his smile never leaves his face. He looks down at you. You’re wearing his hat and eating his favorite pizza. You are grinning widely and seem so amused by the unfortunate turn of his so-called ‘relationship’, touching him in that friendly and sympathetic way of yours. You think you have him all figured out...but you don’t. How would you ever know that he had broken up with Melissa last week? How could you know that he had now decided that the breakup was the perfect excuse? The perfect reason to spend more time with you? You couldn’t know and you wouldn’t know because he would never tell you.

“I thought you didn’t get heartbroken over girls.”

“I usually don’t.”

Through a mouthful of crust and melted cheese, “You must’ve really liked her then, huh?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he sighs, and you only halfway believe him. It’s typical of him to say something like that.

“Wanna bake cookies when we get home?”

“See, who needs a girlfriend when I’ve got you to do corny shit with?” He looks down at you fondly, bumps you gently with his arm. “Maybe I should date you.”

“In your dreams, cowboy.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything?”

“Just hurry up and open the fucking door before my arms fall off.”

When you get the door open, after jiggling at the janky doorknob for what felt like forever, Bucky stumbles his way to the kitchen, and thrusts the brown paper bags of groceries onto the counter.

“Watch my eggs, dumbass!” you call from the other room.

“I did, they’re fine,” he lies in return.

After shedding his coat and shoes he leans against the counter and watches as you move back and forth through the kitchen, putting away groceries while simultaneously leaving out ingredients for cookies.

“You know,” you begin as you place a blue mixing bowl on the counter, “I still can’t believe you and Mar—Melissa,” you right yourself this time, “broke up. Did you break up with her or she broke up with you?”

“She broke up with me,” he lied coolly. When you turn to look at him he allows his face to drop just a little, really putting on a show. It’s hard to keep his satisfaction at bay when he sees your sympathetic expression.

“Why? What’d you do?”

His brows furrow, he mocks surprise, “Why do you assume I did something wrong?”

“Because you probably did.”

“She just said it wasn’t going to work out or something like that. I was too hurt to really listen to her.”

“That’s your problem right there,” you grab the eggs that sit just behind him on the counter and thump his forehead in passing, “You don’t fucking listen.”

“I do too.”

“Not to her you don’t.”

“I listen to you.”

“Yeah...like twenty-nine percent of the time.”

“Pretty sure it’s at least thirty-four percent, doll.”

“Either way, this isn’t about me, this is about you and Marissa.”

“Melissa.”

“Dammit, I thought I had it...Are you gonna try to win her back?” You bring the mixing bowl to the counter he leans against, so you can look at him while you mix.

“I might, I don’t know. Probably not, I think there’s someone else.”

“You’re joking right?”

“Nope.”

You lift a brow and narrow your eyes, your mixing coming to a slow halt. You hold each other’s gaze for a long moment. There is a twinkle in his eye. Who will smile first? 

It’s Bucky, and his smile is like the sun. You cannot help but grin too.

“Just put the chocolate chips in, dumbass.”

You wonder if he was serious about that other girl.

You sit atop the counter after mixing in the chocolate chips, watching as Bucky rolls the sticky mixture into spheres between his hands. He drops them down onto the parchment paper covered tray with a plop.

“There’s this party I’ve got to go to for work next Friday—” he pops a bit of cookie dough into his mouth “—I was going to bring Melissa, but, uh, you know...So do you wanna come? It’s a costume party, we can do one of those couple costumes you’ve always wanted to do.”

Halloween was the holiday that the two of you looked forward to the most. It gave you both an excuse to laze around with one another and eat candy while watching scary movies. A few times you had tried to convince Bucky to actually go out to a party and get dressed up, but somehow every year he had managed to convince you to stay at home with him and watch movies all day.

“You were going to bail on me on Halloween for a costume party?”

Bucky grinned. Like an asshole. “It’s not on the actual day of Halloween, so it doesn’t count.”

“Right,” you nod skeptically. “Well how come all of the sudden you want to go to a costume party? You hate dressing up?”

“Look, doll, you wanna go or not?”

“Fine,” you huff.

“Alright,” his voice is a slow drawl as he grins triumphantly, “That’s my girl.”

thanks to all u homies for reading and being cool. if u wanna be tagged pls send me an ask 

swag tags: @bambamwolf87 @princesse-de-ravenclaw @thunderous-flower