#maybe a couple kitchen knifes with my arms in the bathtub

[devils-little-sista]

.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea

AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind

Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter

Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.

He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.

He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.

"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.

Yeah something's definitely up.

"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.

He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"

You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.

"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"

"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"

You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"

The bathtub overflows.

"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.

"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.

"Si-"

"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"

That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.

"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.

"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."

Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.

You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.

You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.

Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.

'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'

He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.

He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.

'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'

Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.

He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.

"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.

He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.

"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"

You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.

"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.

"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.

"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."

He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"

He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.

You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.

He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 10 - Bad Influence [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s an extra chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Some nights are more hectic than others.

Series Masterlist

Oh hell no.

Tonight was supposed to be a normal night. Boring even. You were supposed to stay at home, watch a cliché horror movie, eat noodles and worry about whether your fake boyfriend, who didn’t know he was your fake boyfriend, was safe and sound on yet another secret mission of his.

Okay, maybe not that normal of a night.

But what was not supposed to happen was your ex-boyfriend showing up out of nowhere at your door.

“I know we left things off a little awkward but that’s no reason to point a gun at me. I was just doing my job.”

“Walk away,” you said, “Go back to the circle of hell they unleashed you from.”

“I heard you’re fake dating Barnes?” he asked, “He looks like your type.”

“I’m going to give you three seconds, then I will start shooting.”

He hissed in a breath,

“Except you can’t,” he stated, “You have to keep your cover. Milkshake waitress having a gun? People would start asking questions.”

“You’re right,” you said through your teeth, “A knife would be much more silent.”

“What’s taking you so—“ Keith called out but he stopped talking as soon as he saw you two. His eyes narrowed almost immediately and he took a step but you threw yourself in front of him, knowing he was about to punch him.

“Keith, I got it.”

“What the fuck are you doing here dickhead?”

“Nice to see you too Keith,” Julian said, “Am I interrupting something? I always kind of wondered what was going on between you two.”

“Ew!”

“If I didn’t want to punch you before, I certainly want to do it now,” Keith stated and you shook your head.

“I got it,” you said, “Really, it’s fine. Go back to the living room.”

He gritted his teeth, “I’ll fuck you up the moment I get you alone, Julian.”

“I can pretend to be scared if you want,” Julian deadpanned as Keith walked back to the living room and you tucked your gun into the waist of your shorts again, crossing your arms.

“So what crossroad is missing its demon right now?” you asked and he tilted his head.

“Y/N.”

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to say hi,” he said, “Is that so bad?”

“Yeah. Considering the shit you pulled, it is bad.”

“You would’ve done the same thing.”

“No I really wouldn’t,” you said “What, am I supposed to believe you’re here to say hello?”

“Yep,” he said, “It’s customary to meet or re-meet your team leader on a mission.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him before you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Hey take it up to the General, I didn’t ask to be put on a mission where you play the honeypot,” he said, “Speaking of, is Barnes head over heels yet? I know how charming you can be when you want to, call it a first hand experience.”

“You’re not a part of my team.”

“I sort of am.”

“It’s my team,” you insisted, “I didn’t give okay to you being on my—“

“I’m afraid that’s above both of our paygrades,” he pointed out, “Nothing you can do about it. Trust me, I won’t enjoy this either.”

“Oh you won’t?”

“You think I will enjoy watching you have a relationship with the goddamn Winter Soldier?” he asked, “As fake as it may be, it will look real.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“So I take it he doesn’t stay over yet?”

You ran your tongue over your teeth, shaking your head, “You know what?” you said, “I think I’ve had enough of this bullshit for the night. It’s always a displeasure to see you Julian, fuck off now.”

You slammed the door on his face and ran a hand over your face, making your way to the living room.

“General put him on the team?” Keith asked, “Is he serious?”

“Looks like it,” you checked your wristwatch, “I need to talk to him. Do you think I can-”

“Don’t call the General right now,” he interrupted you before you could finish your sentence, “You’re angry, and I get that, so am I but wait until tomorrow.”

“Keith, he can’t be in my team!” you insisted, “He can’t be trusted, you know he can’t!”

“Hey,” he grabbed you by the shoulders, “I know. I know what he’s done, I know he can’t be trusted. But the rest of your team got your back, okay? Especially me and Chloe. What happened at that last mission won’t happen again.”

You threw your hands up, “Ugh, fuck this shit!”

“We got this—” he started but then your phone started vibrating on the couch, making you both turn your heads. You leaned over to check the screen, then snatched the phone off the couch when you saw Bucky’s name flashing.

“I should take this,” you murmured and made your way to the bathroom to close the door behind you. You jumped into the empty bathtub and answered the phone.

“Hi Bucky.”

“Hi darling.”

Even the sound of that was enough to make a small smile warm your face and you closed your eyes, leaning your head back to the bathtub.

“You could’ve just texted, you didn’t have to call.”

“Nah I wanted to hear your voice.”

Your smile widened as you bit down on your lip.

“I wanted to hear your voice too,” you murmured, for once dropping the act, “God, you have no idea what kind of a terrible night I’m having.”

“What’s wrong?”

You scrunched up your face, scolding yourself in your head. “Just a…just a bad night.”

“Girls at soup kitchen are giving you a hard time?” he asked and you let out a chuckle.

“No,” you said, “I just heard some less than ideal news.”

“Do you need me there?”

You raised your brows, “Aren’t you on a secretive and highly dangerous mission?”

“Yeah,” he said, “Doesn’t matter, I’ll come if you need me. Do you?”

The clear difference between your ex-boyfriend and your current, albeit fake boyfriend was impossible to miss and you felt your throat getting tighter before you coughed.

Fuck no, you didn’t cry.

The last time you genuinely cried was when you were 16, and quite frankly you had no idea if you were even capable of doing it anymore.

“It’s fine,” you managed to say, “It can wait. Date night when you come back though.”

“Of course.”

“And actually I’ve been thinking about that,” you said, “It’s my turn, right? To pick the place?”

“Mm hm, we last went to Brooklyn.”

“So I was thinking what if we did one modern and one old times?” you asked, “I can pick the modern dates and you can pick the old times dates.”

“Huh,” he said, “That’s a good idea. Wait, you’re not going to drag me to one of those nightclubs, are you?”

You giggled, “Would it be that terrible?”

“Please don’t do that to me.”

“You don’t like dancing?”

“Not that kind of dancing.”

“You know, I keep waiting for you to actually utter the words ‘back in my day’, but it’s not happening.”

He chuckled, “Back in my day, we wouldn’t call that dancing.”

You hummed, slipping a little in the bathtub, “Good point,” you said, “So okay then, it’s settled. I got the modern and you got the old dates covered. What does that entail anyway? Home cooked meal dates?”

“Nope,” he said, “We’re dating, not married.”

You pulled your brows together, “How is that relevant?”

“Me being at your place or you being at mine would be very frowned upon,” he tut tutted, “Us together, without anyone else. Inside and privacy and all. Scandal, there’d be lots of gossip about your virtue.”

A clear laughter escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth with your hand, trying to pull yourself together.

“Right, my virtue,” you played along, “So I take it you have never been alone with a girl back in your day then? Since virtue was a huge deal?”

There was a pause on the other line, “I mean it wasn’t— it wasn’t that huge of a deal for everyone…” he trailed off, and you clicked your tongue.

“But overall, no Netflix and chill?”

“What’s Netflix and chill?”

You bit inside your cheek, trying to ignore the warmth at the pit of your stomach, “I know you hate to hear it, but you’re so cute.”

“No I’m not.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” you taunted him, “I won’t tell anyone.”

You heard Sam calling his name and there was a shuffle before he cleared his throat.

“I gotta go,” he said, “Promise to be safe?”

“Right back at you.”

“Good night sweetheart.”

“Good night.” you said and hung up, pressing the phone to your lips before you shook your head at yourself. You got off the empty tub and opened the bathroom door to step out, then found Keith busy with the noddle boxes in the kitchen.

“It’s still hot, and I took the liberty of texting Chloe,” he said, “She’s on her way.”

You tried to offer him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he grabbed the chopsticks, “But we might want to finish Scream before Chloe gets here, because knowing her, she will make us watch a rom-com.”

                                                ***

You should’ve known trying to change the General’s decision was a lost cause. He listened to your multiple reasons why it was a bad idea to have Julian in your team, but you could’ve been talking to a wall and it still wouldn’t have made a difference.

“I’m aware of your past with Julian,” he said with a sigh after you were done listing your reasons, “Trust me, this wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

“It’s not about my past with him, sir.” You forced yourself to say, “He can’t be trusted. He’s not a team player, he doesn’t think about anyone but himself-”

“It wasn’t just my decision to make him a part of the team, it was all your superiors’,” he said, “We believe that you’re professional enough to pull this off.”

You gritted your teeth, “Sir, it’s not—“

“He’s in your team and a part of the mission now,” he cut you off, “You’re dismissed, Shrike.”

You dug your fingernails into your palms and nodded, then left his office to march up to Chloe and Keith who were huddled over Chloe’s desk.

“What did he say?”

“That he’s not going anywhere.”

Keith clenched his jaw while Chloe heaved a sad sigh.

“I can try to talk to him if you want, but…”

“It won’t make any difference,” you said, “I know.”

Keith crossed his arms, leaning back to the desk, “I mean we could always poison Julian.”

“Keith.”

“Or he could get caught in the crossfire. Spies die like flies, you know that.”

“Don’t say that!” Chloe exclaimed, “You guys are spies too and I already feel way too worried about you.”

“No worries, the only type of death Y/N will get from Barnes is la petite mort.”

You smacked him on the arm, “Fuck you, we’re not sleeping together yet.”

“But you sort of want to,” Keith said, “I heard your giggling last night while talking to him.”

You shifted your weight and threw your shoulders back, “Yeah, so? It’s my cover.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to fuck his brains out.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer!”

“I’m kind of excited about that too,” Chloe said and both you and Keith turned to her.

“Please tell me you don’t want to sleep with Barnes—“

“No!” Chloe said, “No I just… when Y/N wants to, we’ll go and get some vintage inspired lingerie so I’m excited for that.”

“We’re not going to do that Chloe.”

“Yeah, let the guy see the good things 21st century has to offer Chloe,” Keith winked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what, I didn’t give you shit when you were the one undercover in Brazil and had to—“

“Y/N,” Julian’s voice reached your ears and a shiver ran down your spine, making you clench your teeth, “You have a minute?”

Chloe stole a look at Keith who glared at Julian while you raised your brows.

“Not for you Julian, no.”

“I just joined the team, you have to update me.”

“Actually she doesn’t because I already gave Sarah your file and I know that she gave it to you two hours ago,” Chloe stated and Keith nodded.

“Yeah and you’re standing a little too close, so why don’t you step back a little?”

Julian shot you a look, “Seriously? And you’re okay with this?”

“He’s right, you’re standing a little too close,” you stated, making him sigh.

“Y/N, we’re on the same team,” he reminded you, “We need to get along.”

“Actually, you’re on my team,” you corrected him, “I’m the leader in here. So technically, I don’t have to get along with you. You have to get along with me, seeing that you work under me.”

A small arrogant smirk curled his lips. “Wouldn’t be the first time I worked under you,” he said, “Brings back the memories.”

Your eyes narrowed and you tilted your head.

“It really does,” you mused, “The memory of the most boring ten seconds of my life, you tranquilized mattress.”

Keith snorted out his coffee while Chloe gasped, staring at you. You smiled at Julian sweetly, then grabbed your phone.

“Well, I’d better go,” you said, “Some of us have a mission to lead after all. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Have fun,” Keith said without taking his eyes off Julian, “I know we will.”

You winked at them and walked out of the bullpen, grinning to yourself.

                                     ***

The following two days were an actual disaster. Bucky wasn’t in the city so you had nothing to do and nothing to report about. Not only that, you had also made it your own mission to avoid Julian but so far that mission had been a success.

You were beginning to suspect Keith and Chloe had something to do with it.

There was also something at the pit of your stomach. Something that made you both sad and uncomfortable at the same time, like an itch you needed to scratch and no matter what you did, it wouldn’t go away.

Chloe had this genius theory of you missing Bucky, but she was absolutely wrong.

You were just done with counting the money and locking the register when you heard the wind bell by the door chime, but you were way too busy with trying to place the mason jars on the shelf to even look around.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” you said but there was no answer. You froze for only a second before the spy in you kicked in and you grabbed the mason jar tighter before reaching out to grab the nearest knife. The footsteps didn’t signal that it was more than one person and you would throw the jar and judging by the angle of his shadow he would probably lean left to dodge it and that would be when—

“Hi beautiful.”

You whirled around, still holding the jar tight before you dropped it on the counter with the knife, staring at Bucky standing by the door.

“Oh thank God….” you rushed to jump into his arms and he caught you, lifting you off the floor as you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling his scent deeply. Somehow just his presence was enough to make up for these last terrible days and you closed your eyes for a moment while his hand cradled the back of your head, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hi,” you giggled as you pecked him on the lips, “I didn’t know you were back!”

“Oh we just arrived,” Bucky said as he put you down, “Sam went home and I came here. He says hi by the way.”

“Hi back,” you said and the duffel bag on the floor caught your eye, “Wait, you literally just arrived?”

“Mm hm.”

You hummed, pinching his chin between your fingers as you turned his face, making him smile.

“No bruises,” you commented “That’s a good sign. You scared me though, I thought you were a robber!”

“Yeah, speaking of,” he said, “Where’s your friend?”

“Tara? She had a date, and the part timer had an emergency, so I’m closing today.”

“By yourself?” he asked, “That’s not exactly being safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” you taunted him, “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Glad to be back,” his smile widened, “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh you don’t have to, you know I live close by. You should go home and get some rest, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Y/N,” he said patiently, “It’s night time—“

“Meh, evening more likely.”

“It’s dark outside,” he said, “I’m walking you home, come on.”

You thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“Okay,” you said and looked around to see whether you had missed anything, then grabbed your jacket and switched off the lights. He adjusted his duffel bag over his shoulder as you locked the shop then you both started walking.

“So I take it the mission was a success?” you asked, entwining your fingers with his vibranium ones. He still wasn’t used to it and he hesitated for only a second before he held your hand.

“Something like that.”

“How are you going to celebrate?”

He frowned, “Celebrate?”

“Yeah!” you said, “A nice thing happened, why wouldn’t you celebrate it?”

“We don’t really… celebrate missions.”

“Why not?”

He thought for a moment, “I don’t know,” he admitted, “Can I- can we celebrate it then? Together?”

“Oh we absolutely can,” you nodded, “How does tomorrow sound? It’s my time to pick the date, and I’m picking a bar with lots of celebration drinks.”

“There won’t be any dancing in this bar, right?”

“Not yet,” you wiggled your brows, “But I’m warning you, I have plans. We will push you out of that comfort zone of yours.”

“My shrink would like you.”

You tilted your head, “Is that a good thing?”

“Yep,” he said, “How about you? Do you feel better?”

You heaved a sigh and made a face, “Trying.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, “Anything at all, I’m serious.”

A small smile warmed your face and you looked up at him.

“It’s fine,” you said “Thank you for asking though. It means a lot.”

He squeezed your hand like he was trying to assure you and you turned around to see him better as you stopped in front of the building.

“I’d ask if you wanted to a cup of coffee upstairs but…” you sighed dramatically, “My virtue and all.”

“Right,” he played along, “Of course not. We can’t have your neighbors get the wrong idea.”

“No chaperone or anything…”

“I’m astonished you’d even think of such a thing miss,” he said, trying to keep a straight face and you bit down on your lips.

“Well, thank you for being the perfect gentleman, mister,” you taunted him, then stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his, his arm around your waist tightening. He looked down at you as you pulled back, that soft light crossing his eyes again.

“Good night Bucky.”

“Good night,” he stole a kiss from you again and you giggled, then made your way into the building. You took the elevator and as soon as you reached your floor and stepped out, you found Keith fumbling with his keys by his door. He looked over his shoulder and you tilted your head, staring at his blood stained clothes.

“Why are you covered in blood?”

“Why are you grinning like a high schooler with a crush?” he asked back and you tried to control your expression. “Something tells me the answer to both of those questions is the same.”

“Mission?”

“Mission.”

You hummed and went to unlock your door as well while Keith leaned sideways to his doorframe.

“At least one of us is having fun on missions,” he pointed out and you curled your lips, shooting him a look.

“Aw you poor baby,” you said, “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not and you know why?” you pointed at him, “You didn’t bring me coffee the other day.”

He gasped dramatically and you let out a laugh, then closed your door behind you.

“That Barnes guy is a bad influence on you young lady!” he called out before closing his door as well and you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I think you might be right.”

Chapter 11

[whumpasaurus101]

19th April, Plant Day!

I cannot tell you how tempted I was to write abt fungi but I didn’t want @brutal-nemesis to kill me :) so I can safely say that there is no fungi do not worry :D

Cw: plant whump / ‘stabbing’ sort of / deep cuts / caretaking after / fluff / angst / my gaey boys not having a good time tbh / Alicia being a bitch as usual /

Asher wasn’t happy. He was in Alicia’s house and Jack was right at her feet, kneeling. She raked her hands through his hair. Aaher looked at her in disgust from where he knelt, far away from them both. Why did Rodger have to leave him with this bitch? He would have prefered anyone, anyone over her. Jesus, he’d rather stick a fork in his own fucking eye than be here.

“Anyways,” Alicia sighed, “I want to go to the garden centre to revamp this house and whatnot and the two of you can come if you behave, Asher, I’m looking straight at you. Think of all the fun you could have if you don't throw a fucking tantrum, huh? I’ll even let you two go off for a bit if you're good. But keep in mind, I throw knives like a fucking champ so if one of you decides to try and run, you’ll get a knife in your fucking neck, understood?”

The garden centre was huge, Asher’s eyes lit up as he saw the building. And then there were people, normal people, not sick psychos! Couples, families, you name it! A sudden yank ripped Asher from his thoughts as Alicia pulled back on his top. He stumbled back and Alicia spoke in his ear, “Listen up big boy, you make one single sound to any other people and I will fucking kill you, got it?” Asher quickly nodded, scared to speak.

She forced a smile, “Good, now, let’s not waste any time!” The three walked into the centre, Asher standing in between the pair as he was least trusted. Alicia had her handbag rested against her forearm as she strode in.

There were plants everywhere. Some crawled up the wall, some hung from the ceiling and some were neatly potted and shelved. Asher, completely lost in his thoughts, didn't realise how fast he was walking until Alicia yanked him back, “What the fuck did I just tell you?!” Asher lowered his head, “Sorry.”

Both Jack and Asher followed Alicia obediently as she strolled around the store. Eventually, she had had enough. “Alright, alright! You're starting to piss me off! Just- just- ugh, just go -and stick together. But I swear that if either one of you tries something funny, I will slit both of your throats. Asher looked to Jack who smiled at him. He followed him to the outside area as they held hands in front of them so Alicia couldn't see.

Jack pulled Asher into a corner that was hidden by trees and kissed him gently, wrapping his arms around his waist. Asher chuckled, “Nothing funny, huh?” Jack smiled, “Fine, we can just stop you know, look at these… trees?” Asher chortled, snorting slightly at the end. He traced his hand against Jack’s cheek and jaw, rubbing it slightly, feeling the short stubble.

He brought Jack’s face closer and pecked him on the nose. Jack brought Asher’s hips closer, they kissed again as Jack raked his hands through Asher’s hazelnut hair. “What. the. Fuck?” They both pulled away with a jolt.

Alicia stood there, gobsmacked, “I-you.” She couldn’t form any other words than, “What the fuck.” Asher couldn’t breathe, “Pl-please don’t tell Rodger!! Please!!” That’s when Alicia smiled and chuckled, looking at Jack, “So you’re into Asher, huh? You like the ‘bad boys’?” Jack gulped, blinking fast, “Alicia, please! I-”

Alicia slapped him hard across the face, “I asked you a fucking question!” Jack whimpered. Asher looked in shock, finding himself frozen in shock. “Yes! Okay! I love him, I mean, what is there not to love about him? He’s perfect! He’s brave and he’s handsome. He’s there for me when I need him and he makes me happy every fucking day!”

Asher felt his cheeks flush a deep red. Alicia looked at him blankly, “How sweet. But you know this is simply just not allowed.” The two boys gulped. “Alicia plea-”

“Shut up!!” Asher flinched as she took a step towards him, caressing her sharp nails scraping against his cheek, “Now, now Asher, you know he’s way out of your league!” She cackled, “I mean, what’s the fucking age gap?” Asher clenched his jaw. Her thumb’s nail slightly pressing into his cheek as he let out a yelp.

“Alicia,” Jack raised his voice. Alicia turned to him, nails still digging into Asher’s skin. “Please, he didn’t-”

“You know what?” Alicia sneered, “I don’t think you understand. You are mine and Asher is Rodger’s. You are not permitted to even touch him.” Her grip tightened as blood now ran from Asher’s cut.

“I know, I know, Alicia, please, don’t do this, it was all my fault! I started this! He still doesn’t understand the rules!” Alicia sighed, yanking her hand away, making the cut bigger. “No, he doesn’t, but he will.”

Asher had no clue what she meant until an hour later when he was tied to a chair in Alicia’s kitchen. Alicia circled him, shopping bag in hand. “Have you ever heard of a honey locust?” Asher just glared at her in response, dried blood stuck to his cheek form earlier. “No?” She hummed, taking out what looked like branches of a tree. “Hmmm, well, I was going to give these to Rodger to use them on you, but I guess I can just get more and use these bad boys now!!”

Jack pulled at his cuffs which kept his hands right at the fridge’s handle, “Alicia I-“

“SHUT UP!!!!” Both boys flinched at how loud Alicia was. “Stop sticking up for your bitch all the time! You are mine and he is Rodger’s. And the bast way for you to understand things is to hurt people that you love.”

And with that, she got a thorn and quickly moved it down Asher’s collarbone, leaving a dark red line which blood fell from. Asher let out a howl of pain. His restraints left him unable to double over and protect himself.

Alicia snickered, “Oof, that’s a deep one. Oops?” She did the same thing on the exact another side. This continued until deep gashes covered his abdomen.

When she got bored, she picked up the thorns one by one, piling them into her hand. She dropped the branch and grinned at Jack. She approached a trembling Asher and traced one of the sharp thorns all across and down Asher’s arm, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.

Without warning, she quickly stabbed a thorn straight into his arm. He yelled, he couldn’t take all of this pain. “P-please, no more! I- AGH!” He was interrupted when she poked another one right under the previous thorn. He felt his vision starting to blur.

Alicia, noticing he was starting to blackout, decided it was enough, for now. “Oh what now? No ‘smart comments’? You see, after a while, I do start to miss them. Its quite satisfying to be honest! You know, Rodger being unable to control his mutt while Jack just sits right at my side like a good bitch.”

Asher saw Jack flinch through his blurred vision. Jack had never heard Alicia call him that. It was always Rodger who did, never Alicia. Did she prefer Asher? No, no, she couldn’t! She loved Jack… right? He looked to the two, Alicia was running a hand through Asher’s hair with a smile as the other’s head lolled to the side as he slowly drifted out of it.

---

Jack was allowed to clean Asher’s wounds. He had a tweezers and was trying to pluck the thorns out from Asher’s delicate skin. Asher let out painful moans as he rocked back and forward. Jack blinked away his tears, “Ash- Asher please, I need you to stay still.” Asher did but once the tweezers were back on the last thorn, he flinched. Jack rolled his eyes, “ASHER! I NEED YOU TO FUCKING-” He froze the minute Asher’ tear-stained face and puffy eyes turned to him. He looked as if he was about to absolutely ball crying.

“Asher, oh my god, Asher, I am so sorry!” Asher blinked and the tears followed. They streamed down his cheeks as his chest rose and fell fast. He whimpered and bit his lip to stop himself from sobbing. “Asher, please I- I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry!!”

Asher sniffed and blinked rapidly, “ ‘s alright, y-you didnt m-mean to.” Jack’s heart felt heavy but he had to keep cleaning the wounds before Alicia would come in and make some snarky comments. “This is going to sting- wait, I might have some pain killer I can give you, mkay?”

Asher nodded weakly. “Alright, give me a second.” He got up out of the empty bath they sat in and walked to the bathroom cabinet. He scanned through the shelves and his eyes landed on one of the orange containers.

He opened it up and poured two pills into his palm. He then got a glass and filled it with water, knowing the water from the bathroom probably wasn’t the best but it was better to get rid of all of the pain Asher was in already.

He handed Asher the pills and glass. Asher looked at him, waiting for a nod of approval before putting the pills in his mouth and washing them down with the water. “Th-thank you” His voice was hoarse. Jack wiped tears of his own and sat back behind Asher.

Asher’s flinches were less violent. Jack smiled, knowing that his love was in less pain. No- no, not his. Rodger’s. The heaviness settled in his heart once more. Surely there was some way of keeping Asher. Keeping? What the hell was wrong with him?! Maybe he didn’t deserve Asher. Maybe it was for the best.

He looked down as he felt Asher’s back press against him. He was asleep. His adorable face looked so peaceful. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t in pain. His angry face was relaxed and the usual crease in his eyebrows was gone.

Jack gently traced his cheek with his finger. His scar had been reopened and looked painful. After a few moments of peace, Alicia burst through the door, “Jesus fucking Christ, you cant keep your hands off him, can you? After what he went through because of you!” Jack’s head snapped up to her, “Alicia, please, let him sleep, he never sleeps! Please, I’ll do anything!” Alicia fake smiled at him for a moment before shoving her arms under Asher’s arms and dragging him out of the bathtub. Asher let out a yell of shock as he was brought out of his sweet peaceful dreams back to this phscho bitch.

“Alicia, leave him, alone, please!” Alicia just giggled in excitement, “No way, this is a fun thing to play with. You two think you're so in love. But none of you knows what love is!” Asher hung his head in shame and embarrassment. Jack noticed, he knew that Asher had absolutely no memories of his childhood, he didn't know what love was. Jack felt terrible.

Alicia looked between the pair with a shit-eating grin, “Well, you guys must be tired! Asher, you can sleep on the floor in the kitchen. Jack, you're sleeping in with me!” Jack knew better than to refuse. Asher was dragged out of the room and Jack was left sitting in the bathtub, waiting for Alicia to come and show him who he really belonged to.

—-

Taglist:

@as-a-matter-of-whump @yesthisiswhump @appy-polly-loggies @jordanstrophe @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-offical

[deascheck]

A Better Release

Summary: After Sam and Dean save you from a Wendigo, you hide in your bathroom and release your overwhelming panic and fear in the only way you know how- hurting yourself. Sam and Dean follow up and find you bloody, and decide to show you a better way to release your emotions.

Word count: 2749

Warnings: self harm!!

THIS COULD BE VERY TRIGGERING. HEED THE WARNINGS IF THIS IS A SENSITIVE TOPIC FOR YOU.

A/N: Inspired by @samdeancass ‘s story Panic Attack, which you can find under Sam Winchester on the pinned Masterlist. As someone who has struggled with self harm in the past, I know all too well the addiction of the release it offers. I wanted to write a fic that simultaneously offers alternatives to that action, and helps people who struggle with it realize they aren’t alone in going through the struggle of self harm.

@waywardimpalawriter @that-one-gay-girl @winchest09 I thought you guys might be interested in reading this!

You couldn’t believe your eyes. A monster that had all but killed you was burning, shot by a flare gun. The two men who had saved you had come out of nowhere. They must have been tracking the thing that had you trapped and bound.

“Are you alright?” The taller one asked.

Still in shock, you nodded. The monster, a Wendigo you’d heard them say, hadn’t had a chance to seriously hurt you.

“Let’s get you home then….?” The shorter one trailed off, clearly inquiring your name.

“Y/N,” you managed to get out. “My name is Y/N.”

“Sorry to meet under these circumstances, Y/N. My name is Sam, and that’s my brother Dean,” said the taller man. His hair was much longer than his brother’s, you observed.

You shook their hands, still trembling, and accepted the ride home. You gave Dean your address and sat back in your seat, staring into nothing as you tried to process what had happened.

Sam and Dean didn’t say much as Dean drove. You were clearly in shock and they didn’t want to press you, which you appreciated.

When they pulled into your driveway, you got out and numbly thanked them for saving you and for the ride. You then walked up to the front door and went inside.

Once inside, it was like your dam broke. You sank against the closed door and sobbed. The fear, the panic, the shock, all washed over you like a massive wave, drowning you as it surged. You felt overwhelmed and almost felt like you didn’t know what to physically do with yourself. Then the thought entered your head. Almost like it came in the back door of your mind, it slunk in. A dark thought.

You stood up and walked to the bathroom, needing a release. You opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a knife. You knew you had a problem if you were keeping your knife in the damn bathroom, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It’s what long sleeves and long pants were for.

Sitting against the bathtub, you crossed your legs Indian style and stretched out your arm across your knee, a couple paper towels under your arm. You took the knife in your hand and slowly dragged it across your forearm, a thick line of blood following the blade. The sharp pain was a sweet release. You threw your head back in relief as the pain washed over you and the blood dribbled down your arm. Your fear and shock began to fade. Eager for another release, you drew another, deeper line. This time blood easily flowed from the cut, soaking the paper towels underneath your arm and dripping down your leg. You sighed at the feel of the physical pain overtaking your emotional pain. You drew the blade across your arm one more time, the deepest cut yet. A steady stream of blood started pooling on the floor.

You realized you had gone too deep, but you didn’t care. All you wanted to feel was the sharp, throbbing pain of your new lacerations. Your vision started going fuzzy, and your brain knew it was from blood loss.

All of a sudden, almost as if in the distance, you heard your front door bang open and the sounds of heavy, hurried footsteps rang through the house. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had no idea who would have barged through your locked front door but you were too weak to do anything about it.

“Y/N!! Oh my god. Sam!” Dean crouched down beside you and wrapped his handkerchief around your deepest cut. His hands and his handkerchief quickly became slick with blood. Dean patted your face quickly, trying to keep you alert. “Y/N! Stay with me, ya hear? We’ve got you.” But it was no use. You had passed out.

By then Sam had gotten to the bathroom and looked down in shock at the amount of blood his brother was crouching in.

“Dammit. My handkerchief is too thin! Sam! Go grab the first aid kit from the car. We’ve gotta stitch her up,” Dean snapped.

Sam disappeared for a couple minutes before returning with the kit tucked in his arm. He set it on the sink’s counter and opened it quickly. Sam pulled out a needle and some thread and crouched next to Dean. “Let me do it,” he said. “I’m better at this than you are.”

Dean shifted so that Sam had full access. Dean lifted your arm to set it on his knee so that it was elevated and Sam could reach it easier. Sam started with the third cut, working as quickly and effectively as he could. Once the cut was stitched, he moved to the other two cuts. In minutes, he’d finished and they both sighed in relief. You’d remained out of it for the duration of the experience, but you were slowly starting to come to.

Your eyes opened and your vision started coming back. Your eyes came into focus and saw the two brothers crouched in front of you, worry etched on their faces.

“Umm. What are you guys doing? Why are you in my house?” You asked weakly.

Dean answered first. “Well, you were so out of it in the car, we were worried about you going into full shock. So after we left, we decided to turn around and check on you to make sure you were going to be ok before we left for good.” He looked at you with an unreadable look on his face. “I’m glad we turned around.”

Sam continued, “When you didn’t answer the door, we figured something was wrong. I mean, we hadn’t dropped you off that long ago, and we were worried maybe you were having shock symptoms.”

You smiled weakly. “Nope, no shock symptoms.”

Dean rolled his eyes so hard his whole head moved. “Look, sweetheart, this?” he motioned at the mess and at your arm. “This is not healthy. If we hadn’t shown up when we did, you could be dead right now. We saved you! You know why? So you could LIVE! Not so you could live, then kill yourself!” His voice was growing heated, though you could tell he was trying to keep his cool.

“Clearly you need a way to release negative emotions,” Sam said softly. “Am I right?”

You nodded, somewhat sheepishly. “I know this isn’t healthy. I know it’s dangerous. And clearly I went too far with it this time. But you don’t understand,” you replied, keeping your voice low. “This erases all the emotions I don’t want to deal with. Even if it’s just for a few minutes. The physical pain takes over and for those short, sweet moments, it’s all I know.”

Dean tilted his head, getting an idea. “You say it’s physical pain you want? I have an idea. Come on,” he stood and lifted you with him, grunting as he did. “You’re gonna come with us. But first, we’re gonna clean you up, and then we’ll go.”

He released you and you swayed on your feet, unsteady from the blood loss. “Woah there,” he said quickly. “On second thought, why don’t you sit, and we’ll take care of this.” Dean scooped you up, blood and all, and took you to the kitchen and sat you down.

Sam followed with the first aid kit, and asked, “Where are your washcloths and towels?”

“In the linen closet to the right of the bathroom,” you responded with what little strength you had.

Sam returned with a couple wet washcloths and a towel. Dean took the wet washcloths from him and gently started wiping your arm clean of the blood. Once it was cleaned to Dean’s satisfaction, he took the other washcloth and gingerly started wiping the blood from your legs. Sam looked at his brother with surprise on his face. He rarely saw this side of Dean.

You watched Dean as he wiped your legs clean, and quietly said, “Thank you, Dean.”

He merely nodded as he worked, but you could tell he was relaxing because his shoulders started to look less tense.

When the blood was all but gone, Dean told you to go get into a fresh set of clothes while he and Sam got everything cleaned up in the bathroom. Your eyes filled with tears at their kindness but you did as Dean asked.

You went to your room, tears running down your face. You pulled out a pair of loose, gray sweatpants and a baggy long-sleeved t-shirt and put them on, carefully putting your injured arm through the sleeve. Curiosity at what Dean had planned for you kept your thoughts busy as you dressed. You almost found yourself hurrying, interested to know where the brothers would take you.

Once the boys had cleaned up the bathroom for you, the three of you met back in the kitchen.

“Ready to go?” asked Dean with his eyebrows raised.

“I guess so,” you responded honestly.

“Good. Let’s head out,” said Dean. He opened the front door for you and Sam and followed you out, locking the door on his way out.

Sam opened the Impala’s backseat door for you, and you thanked him as you got in. Sam and Dean piled in and you were off.

They didn’t say much as they drove, only that it was going to be a solid four hour drive. You listened to the music playing, which you found amazing. It was a beautiful collection of classic rock. You knew a few of the songs, and found yourself humming along. One song, “Night Moves” by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band, had you singing out loud, with the boys looking pleased as they sang with you. As you sang, you found yourself releasing all the pent up emotion you had and channeling it through your voice into the song. It almost felt passionate. You realized this was a good release. This was healthy. And effective. This was something that could replace your blade. You finished the song with gusto, pleased with yourself for having found something that you enjoyed enough to be able to use as a coping strategy. You wished you’d thought of it years ago.

Dean smiled as he listened to you sing. You had a pretty voice, and you weren’t afraid to belt it out. Sam also had a grin on his face as he thought about how much better of a headspace you were already in.

The drive went by in a blurred mix of singing and sleeping. When it came to an end, Sam and Dean found you slumped over sideways, sound asleep against the leather of the backseat.

Dean opened your door and gently shook you awake, mindful of your arm. “Y/N? We’re here. You gotta wake up now,” he said tenderly.

You slowly woke up, blinking blearily up at him. “Already? Wow. Ok,” you said sleepily.

You hopped out of the car and stretched. You were in a massive garage with multiple old fashioned cars and a couple motorcycles. Your eyes went wide as you took it all in.

Sam and Dean laughed at your expression. “Welcome to our home, Y/N,” said Sam proudly.

They led you to the main area of what turned out to be a bunker. Dean said, “Y/N, follow me. I’m going to show you a good way to release some emotions.”

You blushed faintly but followed him meekly down the stairs. He led you to a gym area and over to a punching bag. “Now,” he stated, “I’m no pro at releasing emotions in a healthy way. I tend to shove them down and pretend they don’t exist by punching walls and drinking whiskey for breakfast. But your response to negative emotions? That could kill you, and we aren’t having none of that. So, put these on.” Dean handed you a pair of gloves. Obediently, you put them on.

“Ok, now put your hands up in front of your face like this.” He demonstrated. “Good! Now, punch the bag using your good arm. Don’t want to be ripping none of Sam’s stitches now.”

You punched the bag as hard as you could with your non-injured arm and instantly felt better. You looked at him with a smile as he steadied the bag. “Good punch, Y/N,” he praised. “Now, do it again.” You punched the bag once more. This was something you could get used to.

“I like this,” you told Dean. “A lot. It feels good. Like, a release just rushes out of me when my fist impacts the bag.”

He smiled. “Sweetheart, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to feel like.”

You smiled back demurely and said, “I’m going to get myself one of these.”

Dean nodded in approval and quietly guided you back up to the main room of the bunker. Sam was waiting for you there with something in his hand.

“My turn,” he said.

Dean smirked. “I leave you in my brother’s capable hands, Y/N. I’ll be in the kitchen with a beer when you’re done.”

You acknowledged his comment and turned to Sam, waiting.

Sam put a journal on the table. “This,” he said. “Is one way I release my emotions.”

You looked at him. “You write?” “I do,” he said

You looked at him inquisitively. “Ok,” you replied hesitantly. “What do I write about?”

He smiled broadly. “Anything and everything,” he answered honestly. “I tend to write about our hunts. I write about the lore I learn about, the situation we find ourselves in… I write a bit more informatively, but it’s still a release for me. It acknowledges everything I’m feeling by creating a place of information. I don’t know if that makes sense,” he ducked his head shyly.

“No,” you said. “I like that idea.” With that, Sam handed you a pen and pushed the journal towards you. “It’s yours,” he said. “Give it a try.”

You nodded and sat down. You opened the journal to the first page and wrote “Y/N Y/L/N” and flipped the page. Thinking as you wrote, you started to write about your experience with the Wendigo, and about how the boys saved you. You wrote about everything you felt and what went through your mind. You wrote about your response to your emotions and about how Sam and Dean were offering you other methods of releasing your emotions. You wrote about how you discovered one on your own; singing. You wrote for the better part of two hours before you stopped.

Sighing, you put your pen down, feeling immensely better. You felt like you’d acknowledged everything you’d been feeling, and that by putting it down on paper, it was real but not necessarily defining you.

Sam looked up from the book that he was reading and smiled. “Done?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly. “That was fantastic.”

“I’m so glad you liked it. Do you feel better?” he asked with concern.

“I really do. Between the singing, the punching, and the writing, I feel completely in control and balanced.” And it was true. You felt validated and whole.

“Excellent,” he praised. “Let’s go find Dean and we can talk about next steps.”

You thought about what he said as he led you to the kitchen. Next steps? What could that mean?

Dean lifted his head up when the two of you entered the kitchen. He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “How’re you feelin’, sweetheart?”

“Much better,” you said softly. “Thank you, Sam, Dean. I mean it. I wouldn’t be here, let alone alive, if it weren’t for you two.”

“About being here,” said Sam. He looked at Dean who nodded at him. “I think you should stay here, with us, Y/N. You can use us as your support system, and you can help us prepare for hunts with research and stuff.”

Your jaw dropped. “What?”

Dean chuckled. “What do you say, kiddo?”

You nodded vigorously, trying not to cry. You pulled Dean up by his hand, and grabbed Sam and pulled him over to you. You wrapped your arms around their waists and hugged them together, unable to formulate words of gratitude. They put their arms around your shoulders and squeezed you gently, letting you know they had your back.

You could tell already, they were your new family. You were going to be alright.

[thecatladywife]

That Time We Met (3)

Taeyong x Male reader

Fluff (Domestic)

Happy New Year to everyone reading those lines, I wish you all the best !!

I’m really getting back into writing these days with NCT inspiring me a lot, I didn’t expect that at all.

I thank every single one of you who liked the previous chapters and I think I’ll write a couple more on this story about Taeyong before getting onto something else (I’ve got a few ideas in mind with Ten, Johnny, Mark and Jaehyun) However since it’s slice of life, I’ll probably get back to it later.

I hope Chapter 3 is as enjoyable as the first two ! Take care !!

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< (2)

Once inside Taeyong looked like an excited kid in an amusement park, rushing in the living room and staring around. He examined every corner, every little things of your daily life which amused you because you would do the same in his stead.

The room was small, there wasn’t much stuff inside but some shelves with books and boxes, a desk on one side near the windows then a couch big enough for three to sit and a tv in front of it.

Taeyong was standing in front of the couch, captivated by the wall full of photos behind it. He could see your younger self with your first bike, you wearing a dirty apron on your first day as apprentice then other pictures more recent with your motorbike chapter, friends, family and finally some pictures of him, selfies he sent you over the months.

Sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for him to be done you looked up in his direction when you heard him giggle. He grinned at you and pointed at one particular photo on the wall.

“Your brothers and you look like three sizes of the same person.”

 It wasn’t the first time you heard that but you were curious to discover which picture made your boyfriend think that too so you turned around. It was the one from your first cousin’s wedding, you were posing with her and your two brothers wearing the exact same suits. You could only to admit that you did look like triplets in different shapes, your younger brother being taller and bulkier than you when your older brother was one head smaller with a leaner body.

 “So… tell me. Which size do you prefer?”

 You tackled him on the couch and tickled him until his giggles turned into a fit of laughter and he started squirming beneath your body.

Taeyong was a mess once you were done with him, his face hot and red and his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He was so beautiful with his brown eyes full of mirth and his boyish smile, you felt your heart skip a beat.

You grabbed him by the waist and sat up, bringing him on your lap at the same time and waiting for his answer to your question. He looked you up and down, then back and forth between the photo and you, pointing your brothers with his finger.

 “Hm… this one looks as tall as me so it’ll be awkward when we hug… this one is definitely too big, he would crush me and this one…”

 He slid his arms around your neck and cocked his head from left to right, pretending to examine you. You played along with him, giving him your most charming smile and even copying some facial expression you saw him make on photoshoots.

 “Ohh~ this one is really hot but I don’t know, he looks too flirty…”

 You both burst out laughing, holding each other close until you finally calmed down and cuddled a little bit. Taeyong’s head was resting on your shoulder while you caressed his hair softly, kissing his lips and cheeks from time to time.

 “Alright Goldilocks, come with me. I'll show you around then you’ll see why I’m the best out of the three."

 You crushed your boyfriend in a bear-like hug, earning the cutest whine from him then got up. You were still holding him up in your arms as you walked toward your bedroom.

Since your apartment was bathed in light most of the day you preferred to keep the decoration simple, white walls and touches of dark grey here and there for the furniture, a large bed at the feet of which you displayed a big carpet and then drawers and hangers for your clothes. There wasn't much but it still felt cosy.

You carried him around to show him the toilets first then the bathroom, laughing at how excited he got because of the bathtub. In the end you went back to the living room, Taeyong still clinging at you like a koala as you took him out on the balcony to see the view on Paris’ roofs.

From were you lived you couldn’t see the Eiffel tower but you could catch glimpses of other famous places in the capital like Montmartre and a few others you pointed out to Taeyong.

 "You must've impressed a lot of dates with this view. Is that your special move?"

"Not really... but does it work?"

 As you were up several floors, you were holding him securely in your arms like your instincts told you he might drop if you didn’t. Taeyong leaned so his forehead was against yours and nodded slightly before kissing your lips.

 "We could have breakfast here tomorrow morning… with bread and croissants, what do you think, mon coeur?"

"Sounds good."

 You gazed at your boyfriend fondly and let him kiss you again, much longer this time, your lips still against his as you went back inside and laid him on the couch with you above. You felt Taeyong hand passing on your shaven head, making you shiver and press your body a little harder against his in return. He moaned softly when you started leaving kisses from his jaw to his neck, aware that you wanted to take things further than a few kisses.

 “Y/N… the visit isn’t finished…”

 You lifted your head and stared at your boyfriend, thinking about all the rooms you already showed him. From the bedroom to the toilet, you couldn’t think of more and raised a questioning eyebrow at him, clueless.

 “My apartment isn’t that big. I don’t have anything else to show you.”

 Taeyong shook his head vigorously, his big brown eyes staring at you with so much expectation you felt a bit sorry.  

 “Come on! You didn’t even show me your special place !!”

 You oow-ed when you realized what he was talking about, a soft smile appearing on your face as you looked at him sheepishly.

 “I forgot about that.”

 He snorted at you then pushed you off his body. You watch Taeyong get up and stare down at you with a mocking smile.

 “You literally spend your life in your kitchen and you couldn’t even remember to show it first.”

“Like you’re one to talk… you can spend days playing video games.”

 He shrugged before taking your hands and helping you off the couch. You let Taeyong drag you through double windowed door, separating your kitchen from the living room with large glass panels instead of wall.

He looked in awe at how spacious it was in contrast with the other rooms, noting how well organised you kept it before sitting on the huge worktop.

 “I’ve seen you so many times here when we were on the phone… it feels so familiar and also weird to finally see it with my eyes… like a good kind of weird.”

 You chuckled but you knew exactly what he meant. You felt weird too. Having him by your side now was like a dream.

 “You have no idea how many times I wished you were there with me, Taeyong. I would be cooking and then I would look up… picture you geeking on the couch over there then at one point you’d smile up at me.”

 You cleared your throat, feeling embarrassed after this confession and avoiding your boyfriend’s gaze but Taeyong grabbed your hand in his, pulling you closer then kissing your palm to catch your attention.

 “We can realize your dream now if you want? Well, I mean after I’m done with showering… I feel kind of sticky.”

 You nodded at your boyfriend then sent him away with a kiss, to take his long-deserved shower.

Taeyong came back half an hour later and you couldn’t help checking him out as he crossed the living room and walked toward you in the kitchen. He had change into comfy sweatpants and a black sleeveless shirt that gave you a peak of his slender body from shoulders to the bottom of his ribs and was drying his hair energetically with a towel and looking slightly less tired.  

 "God... I really needed this shower!"

“It felt good ?”

“A bath would’ve been better but yes. Now all that's left is a little bit of sleep and I'll be ready to roam the streets of Paris with you tomorrow”

He came to stand next to you while you were busy preparing dinner, sleeves rolled back on your arms and an apron tied around your hips. You smiled at him then focus back on your task, not realizing that you weren’t paying attention to what he was saying afterwards.

Cooking was a serious business to you so much that once your hands were busy with a knife or a pan, you tended to zone out. More than once, when you were on a video call with Taeyong he had to shout your name to get your attention back so when you barely responded to him, he was well aware that you were already “gone” and probably for a long time.

You were done peeling your potatoes and were focused on mincing garlic when you suddenly felt two arms come around your torso as your boyfriend hugged you from behind, his head reaching no further than your shoulder blade. You turned your head briefly to see him grinning lazily at you and you could feel that he had something in the back of his mind.

 “You come with me."

“Where?”

“To take a nap with me.”

 Knife half in the air and hand steady on one mushroom you were about to chop, you jumped when he bit on your shoulder lightly.

 “Tae!”

“Come~”

“What about dinner?”

“Later…. maybe… let’s take a nap Y/N”

 Taeyong was tiptoeing as his mouth ran from your shoulder to you neck, leaving kisses on the way then going back to biting your skin and making you lose focus.

 "Alright…alright. You go first and… I'll join you once I put the meal in the oven"

"Can't we just order something when we wake up?"

 You scoffed and turned around just to give your boyfriend an indignant look that made him roll eyes at you. Yes, you could be pretty dramatic. However, you really looked forward to cook something for your boyfriend once he arrived, as a butcher working with the most renowned restaurants in Paris, you knew your way in the kitchen and it was a bit of a matter of pride.

 "You really think I'll allow that your first meal in France is a take out?"

"I'm sure we can find some really good restaurant that do delivery."

"What the point of having a boyfriend who can cook if I can't even prepare something delicious to welcome you"

 You really wanted to brag and see his delighted face when he'd dig into your homemade meal but when he buried his head in your back and whined a little bit, you knew you had lost the battle against him.

.

"Y/N~ Can't it wait tomorrow? I just want to stay in bed with you"

 You sighed in defeat and let him take you in the bedroom, untying your apron on the way and throwing it on the kitchen worktop. You let yourself fall down on the mattress and opened your arms for your boyfriend to join you which he did, almost leaping onto you then laying down with his head on your hard chest as he giggled.

 "Happy now?"

"Very much"

 Taeyong let out a long yawn then pecked you on your pectoral and scoot closer to your side. You could feel his tense body relax as you cuddled.

 "Y/N...?"

"Hm?"

"Being in your arms is better than food."

"I think your lack of sleep makes you delirious."

 You laugh at his nonsense and kissed his forehead, tightening your embrace and watching over him as he closed his eyes. Enjoying the moment, you waited for his breathing to even out and his head to feel heavier on your chest, both signs that he was well asleep to slip out of bed and back into the kitchen.

[tae-cup]

Candle | MYG Oneshot

Inspired by: Cavetown’s “Candle”

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader 

Summary: You met him at the lowest point in your life. He was your candle, your light, and he helped you fly to the clouds. 

Warnings:  TRIGGER WARNING (I write my emotions and my dark thoughts, I write my pain and sturggles, but please don’t hurt yourself, okay? If any of you readers need to talk, please just shoot me a message. I’m a listening ear.) Angst, Hurt/Recovery Au, Depressing thoughts, Thoughts of Suicide, and last but not least Fluff, Please if you are struggling, reach out :) (HOTLINES)

Word Count: 4.3k Words

A/N: Please reach out if you’re struggling. I understand because I’ve struggled with these thoughts and this is my form of release. I really don’t want to trigger anyone. I care for all my readers and I want you to know that this beginning part may be the darkest thing I’ve written in a while, but I swear to you, this has a happy ending. 

Other: Masterlist

Every time I screw up I feel I've let down all my friends Stumbling through a thousand stars and neon cars break through my skull There's so much life out here in space it's crazy that we're here at all

    You can skip this beginning part if you would just like to read about recovery

             It seemed like running away from your problems was the only thing you could do. It wasn’t even just speculation, it was the truth, evident through many many occasions where you metaphorically and literally ran away. 

      The first instance would have been when you were just 10 years old. Your parents were fighting again; smashed plates, drunken screams. So you managed to slip out undetected and you ran. You ran so hard that you couldn’t breathe. Everyone at school had always spoken about how beautiful love is. How they want to fall in love, get married, maybe become famous. 

       But it was at this moment that you decided that love was awful. If that’s what love did to people, why would you want that? As result, you were...emotionally stunted. Rash, unreasonable, guarded. 

        You found yourself running again in seventh grade. Kim Seokjin gave you flowers and sheepishly asked you out. No. No. No. The words rang in your head. Love is awful. You thought as you curled into a ball. It was making you cry. And you feared the ache in your chest would never go away, a forever hole in your heart. Love hurt other people. Seokjin was hurting because of it, or maybe because of you, but your mind watered it down to it being because of love. 

         Throughout high school you refused to let love into your life, to even try. It wasn’t worth it to you. What was the point if you were just going to break it off anyway? Surely you would never survive college. Besides, it wasn’t like you had a line of people wanting to date you. 

           Then college came around and left. You spent the entire time huddled in your studies and maybe going out with friends. You still ran from your problems, your insecurities. You were terrified. Terrified that whatever unfathomable anger your parents had was also passed down to you, that you’d hurt people like they hurt each other. 

           It’s better this way. You thought to yourself as you returned to your empty apartment. 

           It’s better this way. You thought at you watched the happy couple order their coffees. 

          It’s better this way. You thought as you turned down a man with roses and a boxy smile. 

         It’s better if you don’t fuck up someone else’s life like you’ve fucked up your own. The world was a scary place and you just wanted to get by. Happiness meant nothing to you. Everything was black and white. The world felt heavy on your shoulders and you knew no one could possibly help you hold it up.  

         What’s the point anymore? A waste of space. Years of pushing everyone away had finally worked. Now you were alone. No new messages, no phone calls, just empty space. You were stuck in a dead end job and it wasn’t like anyone would notice if you disappeared. 

        You sat in the bathtub, water turning cold, knees drawn in. If you slid under, would anyone notice? Would your body even have the strength to struggle if you inhaled the soapy water? If you let it drown you? 

         What if you took the kitchen knife and...You shivered. No. Your subconscious whispered. 

          Shut up. The monster responded. The monster was dark, a curling shadow the infested your mind. It wouldn’t be long until it grew to fill all the space in your mind; every corner, every turn. Every time you locked it away, it burst back stronger than before. When would it end?

           You didn’t want the pain anymore. You didn’t want to die, you just wanted it all to stop. Maybe that’s why you were in the hospital. Maybe that’s why you were now surrounded by a group of adults around your age, all dressed casually and sitting on plastic chairs in a circle. 

           “Mina, why don’t you go next?” The woman who ran the group smiled. Her name was slipping your mind. She had introduced herself a while ago, but you hadn’t been paying attention. Instead, your attention was on a boy you went to high school with. Min Yoongi. 

          The young girl known as Mina fidgeted restlessly. Her fingers curled in and out, clutching the hem of her white shirt with unease. 

           “I...today...” She searched for the right words. Everyone was silent, only a few people looking at the girl. The rest were either staring at the ceiling or the ground. You were trying to figure out how much long you had to stay here. You had always known you were unwell mentally, but you didn’t think it was this bad. 

          That was until you were brought to the hospital with blood pooling around your wrists and cold water in your hair. It hadn’t been thought out, per say, you just didn’t want to continue on, not like this. None of the people here care about what you’re saying. No one is here to listen. They want to leave as badly as you do. The monster whispered. 

          And you intended to leave soon. You didn’t know what you were going back to, but you didn’t want to spend three months in this place. The entire building felt like a hospital with bare rooms and the bare minimum necessities. You couldn’t even shower without someone standing in the room, back faced away from you. Your phone was taken away, but it wasn’t like anyone was contacting you. 

           “Today, I didn’t feel the need to, uh, you know.” Mina whispered, head tilting down. The woman smiled at her approvingly. 

             “That’s wonderful improvement, Mina. You’re doing so well.” 

             “Thank you.” The girl murmured back, every word getting quieter. You didn’t want to share, you didn’t want to let these strangers into your head, you already enough strangers in there. 

              “Y/N?” The woman turned to you. Her blonde hair was pulled into a crisp bun, not a hair out of place. 

             “Pass.” You said lamely, slumping in your seat. You could feel a heated stare from across the circle and you spotted Yoongi looking at you. He locked eyes and you had no choice but to look away out of pure discomfort. 

             “Okay, but please do consider opening up to the group. We’re all here to support you.” She smiled warmly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. You knew she was getting frustrated. A full month and no improvement. 

            “I don’t want to, I won’t ever. I’ve handled my problems just fine before so I’d appreciate if you’d let me do that.” You snapped back. Why can’t they just understand you? See, it’s just another room of people who don’t care. 

            Your fingers itched to dig into the pad of your thumb. That’s how it all started, right? You went numb a long time ago, it was hopeless impassiveness. 

           “Please think about it.” The woman noted something onto her clipboard. She went down the list of names and tapped her pen on a name. “Yoongi?” 

            The male frowned and shifted uncomfortably. He had pitch black, curly hair and bangs that hung loosely in front of his face. He was like you. He hadn’t said much, but there had been a noticeable shift in how he acted. You didn’t even realize that you had been studying how he moved, how he ticked, but you realized it now. He sat up straighter, no longer lazily avoiding questions. The man even tried to interact with you a couple times, but you immediately turned him down. No one wants to be friends with a monster. 

           “Today...today I felt better.” Was all he said, a soft expression passing over his face before he went back to his blank expression. The woman couldn’t hide her excitement at the progress. 

           “That’s great, Yoongi! Keep it up and let me know if there are any issues.” She said, her voice hurried and almost giddy. 

           He simply nodded swiftly and went back to staring at you, or maybe the wall behind you, you couldn’t tell. Your fingers dug into the palms of your hand. Why are you the only one not making progress? 

           “Well, I think that’s all we have time for.” The woman looked at her watch. “Let me know if you want to talk,” She looked pointedly at you. “My door is always open.” 

          She seemed nice enough, just...overly excited. It came across as fake, forced, and certainly not genuine. She gathered her things and left the room, big double doors swinging behind her. 

             You watched her leave and when she was out of sight, you relaxed more. The others in the group got up and went to watch T.V. or play games. Yoongi and you were frozen in place. He was burning you alive with his eyes and you were trying your best to put out the flames. He slowly stood and walked over to you, standing close enough that you had no choice but to look at him. 

              Surprisingly, the expression he wore was not intimidating. It came across as soft, almost kind. He held out his hand and your eyes trailed to where his sleeves hitched up slightly. White lines of faded scars, scars made from sharp razors, peppered his skin. You didn’t mention it. Your arms were marked the same way. 

              “Y/N?”

              “Hm?” 

             “I recognize you from high school.” He said nonchalantly. “Want to get lunch and catch up?” 

             “No thanks.” No. No. No. Stop trying to get close to me. You averted your eyes, but that didn’t deter him. 

              “Y/N.” He breathed. “Come on. I just want to get to know you better.” 

              “No you don’t.” You bit back, hands clenching into fists. 

              “But I do. And if I cared about the dark thoughts in your head or the twisted caverns of your mind, we both wouldn’t be here.” 

             It was weird to hear someone describe their mind to you. You had always thought of your mind as a house and your bedroom where you slept had the worst demon. To hear him see his mind as caverns, twisting tunnels, and a maze, it was...informative. He’s lost. You’re trapped. One in the same. 

              “No thank you.” You repeated. “I’m going to my room to read.” You stood abruptly and left. 

             But he just doesn’t give up. It was actually a weird attribute for someone in the position you’re in right now, but you didn’t think much of it. He asked you every single day. No. No. No. 

              And one day, he wore you down. When he took your hand in his and led you to the cafeteria, you realized how much you craved physical affection. It made you feel out of control. And you dropped his hand like you were burned. You’re not supposed to let people get this close. Getting attached is stupid, what if you hurt them? 

             Yet, when you sat down with him and began talking about life, you could physically feel a weight pulling off your chest. You didn’t know when he took your hand, you didn’t realize, that he had rushed forward and taken some of the weight for himself. He dedicated his shoulders to help you hold your pains as well, he reached out and he cared. He cared for the girl he’d been obsessed with since high school. 

             It was a shock to see you in the same place as him. Why didn’t he see the signs? A question he would ask himself for a long time. 

          You couldn’t laugh. You physically couldn’t bring yourself to do it, even if you found something hilarious. It was like your chest was weighted down, refusing to do anything other than keep you alive and breathing. A month passed of sitting at lunch with Yoongi and then running to get as far away from him as possible. You’re getting sloppy. You thought, was it your thoughts or the monster’s? Perhaps you were the same person now. 

             It was after lights out. The hallways were dark, dead silent. You didn’t want to sleep. You couldn’t. You had another month and then you could leave, but they could sign a few papers and force you to stay if they didn’t think you were better. You couldn’t even remember what it was like to feel better. What is it like to feel anything? Your arms hung off your bed as you sprawled out on the single bed. There was a knock. The door was always unlocked, but everyone usually respected each other’s space. 

          “Yes?” You didn’t question who it was, you knew. 

          The door softly opened and then closed. In the darkness, your eyes struggled to see the outlines of him, but with how he was standing you knew it was Yoongi. 

          “Hey. How are you?” He murmured, he walked forward and plopped onto the ground in front of your bed. You didn’t turn to face him. 

         “I’m stuck in this place, what do you think?”

          “You can talk to me, you know?” 

         “I don’t want to talk, god, everyone just wants me to spill all of my life to them. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You said harshly, your voice hushed as to not be heard by the staff. 

         Again, Yoongi was not deterred. He stood and walked to your bedside. You turned your head to look at him. He crouched and took your hand in his. The moonlight filtered through the small window, illuminating his face and eyes that glowed in the darkness. He was staring at you and you felt your breath hitch. No. You wanted to look away but you were transfixed. Look away, goddamnit. No one wants to know your shit. But his warm hand didn’t stray from yours. You thought back to the cafeteria, all the small smiles of encouragement he gave you, the happy memories he was beginning to create. 

         But you don’t deserve those happy memories. You don’t deserve-

         “Want to see the stars with me, Y/N?” 

         Your train of thought halted. He smiled a little, eye glinting. You craned your neck to look out the small window, but at this angle it was impossible to see much except black. 

         “I’m not sure if they exist anymore.” You whispered, eyes locking with him. He squeezed your hand. 

         “They do, and you deserve to see them.”

          Stop, what are you doing? The monster hissed. 

          I’m not sure anymore. A new voice whispered. The monster was taken aback by a small light, small as a matchstick, floating into the room. All I need is a candle to light this place up. The matchstick whispered in your ear. 

          You nodded blankly, standing up and following him out the door, voices forgotten. 

           “Yoongi?”

           “Hm?” He doesn’t look at you. 

           You’re currently both sprawled side by side, arms and legs splayed like you’re making snow angels. Your eyes are taking in the sight above. The Milky Way shines in a brilliant streak across the sky. The stars are littering the darkness like flashlights twinkling on and off. 

            “It’s beautiful.” You breathe softly. All that’s there is the sound of the trees rustling around the building’s rooftop. 

            “I know.” 

            There’s a beat of silence. Then the gravel shifts underneath him as he turns over on his side to look at you. 

            “Tell me what happened.” He whispered. You shifted over to look at him as well. 

            “You don’t want to know. The things inside my head,” you paused, letting your eyes shut and a breath escape. “They’re monsters. And I can’t tell the difference between me and them.” 

            He nodded, holding eye contact. He reached over and interlaced your fingers with his. 

           “I think if people knew my thoughts, they’d run. So I do the job for them.” You relented, the walls slowly cracking. He had shared so much of himself with you, you felt the need to let him have a piece, but you didn’t want the whole dam to break. 

          “You’re not a monster, and no one’s going to shut you out.” He whispered. The dam cracked, water splashing over the top as it filed beyond capacity. 

          “My parents fought a lot and I fear their anger is in my genes. I refuse to hurt people.” You whispered, suddenly sitting up before the wall could crack further. “And that includes you.”

          “Wait, Y/N!”

          “Just stop, Yoongi. You’re only going to get yourself hurt.” You couldn’t even bring yourself to add anger to your words. It was just pure defeat. You were tired. So very tired.  

           “Y/N. You have someone here to see you?” A nurse knocked on your door. You often heard her knocking on others’ doors to say this exact line, but you never imagined it to be your own. 

          “Who?” 

          “She goes by a Mrs. Y/L/N.” 

          Your heart sped up. 

          “What?” 

          You followed the cheerful nurse down the hall in a daze, one foot after another. She came? She came? You ignored the gaze from Yoongi as you passed him. She came? She came? It was like a chant, a mantra. Your throat closed up at the thought of even seeing your mother. The woman who raised you, the one who made you terrified of love, but loved you endlessly. Nonsense. The monster whispered at that thought. It made you want to cry more. 

         She came? You turned the corner. Your eyes searched the room of visitors. It was quiet, murmurs of joy and sadness shaking from each group. Then you saw her, sitting in the back, not distracted, eyes searching for you. You can’t do this. You were shaking and the nurse paused, giving you a sympathetic smile. 

         “Are you alright?” 

        “I’m just...homesick.” The last word barely managed to get out, your mouth shutting to keep a sob inside. Your mother met your eyes and she didn’t move. You could barely breathe. 

          She came. You bit your lip hard to stop the tears from gathering more than needed. You were an adult. You hadn’t even spoken to her in two years, but there was no doubt that she represented your home, your childhood, years you could never relive again. You walked forward and sat in front of her. 

          You expected anger. Their eyes were always full of anger in your memories. Her skin was always cut from the dishes thrown to the ground. Her voice was always hoarse from the screaming; from the love that faded before her eyes, before your eyes. 

          You expected anger, but when you met her eyes, she was simply worried. Motherly concern written on her face. She looked you up and down.

          “Mom?” Your voice was small, like a child. She stood and went to your side. She crouched and pulled you into a bone crushing hug. Her hand caressed your head, her other wrapped around your waist. 

         “Shhh.” She whispered, but you could feel her wet tears on the back of your shirt. You slowly let your hands come up and wrap around her as well. You pulled her in close, tears flowing quickly, a pain in your chest letting itself out. You were a child again, running from the rain and darkness, running from the things that scared you most. 

         Your hands scrunched up the back of her shirt as you sobbed. 

        “I’m sorry.” You cried out. “I’m sorry.” 

        “It’s okay, It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” She held you. She wrapped her arms around your middle and let you release tears. A language that speaks when the words just aren’t enough. 

         “Once you’re out of here, once you’re better, I think you should come live with us again.” She whispered. 

        “Why?”

         “Because we love you.” 

          You pulled away, rubbing your nose on your sleeve. 

          “You don’t know what love is.” You said in disbelief, the words tumbling out before you can think. See, look at you messing up again. The words weren’t accusatory, they were spoken like the truth; the truth you had convinced yourself to believe. 

          “Yes, I do, Y/N.” She gently pushed back a strand of your hair, not showing any signs of pain. “Your father and I fought a lot, but we still love each other. Love is commitment. You can’t run away from it.”

          “Yes you can.” You insisted. “I’ve done it my entire life.”

          “Are you happy?” 

Silence. You could feel the lump in your throat coming back. She came back for you. She cared. She loves you and she wants you to come home. The matchstick sung. You refused to give it a candle. You were scared. Without the darkness, who would you be? Weren’t you and the monster one in the same? 

          “No.” You said quietly. 

          “Visiting hours are over.” The nurse said over the speaker and families bid their farewells as they left. 

          “I think that’s telling enough.” Your mother didn’t move for a moment. Then she slowly stood, taking you with her. “Get better, please. I love you, Y/N.” 

          You couldn’t move as she left. You watched her leave. Always gone. The monster whispered. 

            But she came back for you. The matchstick said softly. 

               “Yoongi?” 

              “Hm?” He looked up from his food as you walked over. You had spent so long eating in your room, isolating yourself, but you realized you missed talking to that dork. 

               His eyes traced your body, a confused look on his face. You set down your tray and sat with him. Avoiding him was getting you nowhere. You glanced at his short sleeves, then to the metal knife in his hand. He’s improving. You felt self conscious, but continued. 

              “You don’t like carrots, why did you get them?” He asked, eyeing your plate. You knew he liked them. You got them for him. And...you couldn’t help letting out a small chuckle. The sound was foreign. 

              “You’re doing well.” You said quietly, ignoring his confused stare. He nodded once. 

               “You as well.” He didn’t smile. You wanted to see his gummy smile again. You reached over hesitantly and placed your hand on his. His eyebrows shot up. 

              “When are you being discharged?” 

             “Next week.” 

             “Good job.” You ignored the sinking feeling in your stomach. You’re happy for him. Really. But it made you feel weak. This entire time you were trying to be strong, to shut everyone out, but maybe real strength was working to improve yourself. You don’t have that strength. Yet, the monster’s voice was weaker and the matchstick burned brighter.

             Just give me a candle and I’ll light this place up. The matchstick floated towards you. At this rate, I’ll burn up soon enough. 

            And you didn’t know if you would be able to recover if the matchstick burned out. 

              “Hey, Yoongi? Want to go see the stars tonight?” 

           The galaxy looked like if someone took a paint brush and smeared a streak of purple, pink, and white across a blank canvas. 

            “Sometimes, I think I’m just letting everyone down.” Not sometimes, all the time. 

            “What do you mean?” 

            “I chased away all my friends and everyone I cared about. Now look where I am.” You were sitting with your legs crossed while Yoongi laid down. “They probably hate me.”

            “I think if you reached out, they would still want to see you.” Yoongi said carefully. 

            “They don’t.” You said sharply before letting out a breath. “I don’t know what I’d go back to.” 

             “Your friends may not love you, but they care about you, right?” 

            “I haven’t spoken to them in years.”

            He mulled over this fact for a moment before sitting up right. 

            “Well you have me, and I love you. All of you.” His voice was firm and before you could speak, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, tugging you to his chest. You missed this. 

             “That can’t be right.” You murmured, but he heard you. 

             “It’s true.” He whispered, breath fanning across your neck and making you shiver. 

            “Why?” 

            “There isn’t a reason, it’s just the universe telling me something about you makes me feel right.” 

           You turn around and interlace your fingers with his, holding them up between you. 

            “Me too.” 

           Yoongi was gone, but you didn’t feel like a lost cause. They trusted you with metal now and you could take a shower without someone in the room. Your mind just kept going back to his number written on a crumpled up piece of paper in your pocket. 

           You had looked at that paper for hours, memorizing it in case you lost it. Now you stood, fingers curling and uncurling as you hesitated. The door was blue, a contrast to the white halls. The name card read Dr. Kim. So that was her name, huh? You raised your hand to knock. No. No. No. 

           The monster had never fought so hard. Doubt flooded your brain, filling every crevice and the matchstick was drowning. No. No. No. Then, as you were dragged into the depths of your mind, your feet turning around to go back to your room, a hand grabbed your arm and tugged you to the surface. Yoongi’s face stared back at you in the darkest corner of your mind. 

           He pulled you to his chest and looked you in the eye. Yes. He whispered. The candle. There it was. Warmth, a soft yellow light chasing the darkness away. The monster, shrunk away, for once smaller than the candle. You held the candle and found yourself walking back to that blue door. 

           Knock knock knock. The door opened to reveal Dr. Kim, the kindness in her eyes that had seemed so fake a few months ago, now comforted you. The flame burned brighter. 

           “Y/N?” Her disbelief was evident. “Would you like to...to talk?” 

           No. No. No. 

          “Yes, please.” 

          She opened the door and the flame turned into a wildfire, spreading to every corner in your darkened home. You walked in, watching the monster grow bigger, growling at you to leave. And for once...you didn’t run away. 

Have the strength to push away all the pain from yesterday, Cause there's nothing worth crying about Your heart is a candle and I won't let you blow it out

[softbiker]

Born to Run - Chapter 5

Warnings: some cursing, descriptions of injuries, sloppy editing

Word count: 3k (whew)

A/N: Here we go!! I’m excited about this chapter and your responses. I’m also excited for the story to keep picking up from here. :) Slow burn is still a slow burn though, sorry not sorry. As always, let me know what you think!! Thanks for reading!

“Oh my god…” Y/N gasped. “Get in here, now.”

She helped Bucky into her house, screen door banging behind him. He leaned his weight on her heavily, hissing when her shoulder jarred him a little.

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered,

“S’alright,” he shook his head. “Where d’you want me?”

“Bathroom.”

They stumbled down the hall together, barely able to fit side by side with Bucky’s massive shoulders filling the space. She could feel his blood soaking her clothes, staining the pale pink scrubs she had neglected to take off. She imagined, for a moment, this man dying in her house.

“What happened this time? Another metal stake?”

He grunted, almost a laugh. “Sure, let’s call it that.”

Fucking bikers.

Y/N sat him down on the side of her bathtub and instructed him to peel off his top layers while she went for her first aid kit. She cursed under her breath the whole way, throwing open her kitchen cabinets and shuffling around her dishes and coffee mugs before remembering the kit was under the sink. Grabbing it, she ran back to the bathroom. She stopped right outside the door, eyes closed, breath held.

Please don’t let him die in my house.

Bucky was still on the edge of the tub, his bloody shirt and jacket dropped inside. His hand was pressed over the wound on his now bare torso, blood smeared from the struggle of taking his shirt off. She had never noticed somehow, all the tattoos that traced from his left shoulder down to his wrist. When he looked up, his eyes were glassy and distant, and she snapped back into focus.

“Alright. Let’s see it.”

He had definitely been stabbed. Maybe with a metal stake. More likely with a knife - something with a serrated edge, too. The jagged tears in the skin around the wound told her that. It was a bit deep, deeper than she would have liked to be treating from the floor of her bathroom, but this would have to do. Save his life or don’t.

She got to work, cleaned him up and ruined towels and disinfected and stitched. Bucky managed to stay conscious through it all, mumbling about everything she asked: the Army, his family, his elementary school. His shaking fingers gripped the edge of her tub, keeping him upright. She took note of the other scars, big and small, all over his body - at least, what she could see of it. She didn’t ask which were from the Army and which from the Avengers.

She tucked old sheets over the cushions of her couch, fluffed up some extra pillows, and put her patient to bed in the living room. His eyes closed immediately, sweaty hair bunched up under his neck. She watched him for a minute, waited for his breathing to slow.

He grabbed her hand before she could leave.

“Y/N,” he sighed, eyes still closed. “Thank you.”

She didn’t say a word.

**********

Bucky Barnes was a lucky man.

He knew this. Even when he got dealt a shitty hand in life, he always managed to stay in the game long enough for things to turn around. That was how he had made it this long, even with every dangerous choice he made, every time he looked at his cards and chose not to fold, to up the ante a little bit. That was how he got to Y/N’s house last night without bleeding out and crashing his motorcycle, how she was home and agreed to help him. He was one goddamn lucky sonuvabitch.

When he woke to the sound and smell of frying bacon, he was thinking about that, luck. He thought that with just a little bit more of it, he could’ve been waking up to this all the time - a quiet home, a woman cooking breakfast in the kitchen. For better or worse, his luck had never gotten him quite that far.

Y/N found her patient lying awake on the couch, staring at the dusty ceiling fan.

“Good morning,” she greeted, sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“Mm. Mornin’,” he croaked. His throat felt like sandpaper. Without asking, Y/N held out a cup of water with a straw. He took it and slurped.

“Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat and shifting against the pillow. She just raised her eyebrows.

“I think you owe me a lot more than ‘thanks’.”

“I know, doc. I know.” Bucky shuffled back against the cushion. “But can I use your bathroom first?”

Y/N helped him hobble down the hallway, threatening to let him die alone if he popped his stitches. She stood outside the door when he protested that he could manage to pee by himself, sighing as she heard him curse under his breath when he hit his toe on the edge of the cabinet, and listening to the sink run.

When he reappeared in the bathroom doorway, he looked better. He had splashed some water on his face, if the droplets running down his neck were anything to go by. Her eyes followed them and she remembered that he was still shirtless, with only a bandage covering his injury. His tattoos were stark against the rest of his olive-colored skin.

She realized she was staring when he cleared his throat.

“I was just making breakfast,” she blurted, letting him prop himself up on her shoulder without a glance at his face. “Are you hungry?”

“Well, I’m not gonna say no to whatever that is that smells so good.” She could hear the smile in his voice, but still didn’t look at him. She settled him in his spot on the couch and hurried off to the kitchen to make a plate.

Y/N gathered a cup of coffee and a full plate of eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast onto a beautiful tray she was sure had never been used. A part of her, a little voice in the back of her head, watched from the outside and couldn’t believe what she was doing - making coffee and bringing breakfast in bed, playing house with a (suspected) criminal. She did her best to ignore it.

She watched from her perch on the coffee table as Bucky tucked into his breakfast, eager and appreciative with every bite.

“So. You made it through the night, and your appetite is good, which means you probably won’t be dying on my couch,” Y/N began, as Bucky forked a couple of potatoes. “I think this means you can start telling me what the hell is going on around here.”

Bucky eyed her, guilt heavy in his gaze, and laid down his fork. He sipped his coffee, turning his face away from her, his jaw tightening.

“I know...that you deserve some answers,” he said, after a minute of silence. “And I know it ain’t right showing up like this, dragging you into our shit. For the record, I never wanted - I didn’t want to ask you.”

“Ask me what?”

“To help out the Avengers. Be our medic, whatever the hell you wanna call it. They should’ve left you out of it.”

“Well we agree on that point.”

Bucky shook his head.

“No, you don’t understand-”

“Then fucking explain!” Y/N threw her hands up in frustration. Bucky sighed, staring at her with sad eyes. He pushed the tray back, finished with his plate, and leaned as far forward as his wound would allow.

“I…” he sucked in a deep breath, tensing up his body. “I’ll tell you some things. As much as I can, alright? But, for your safety...the less you know the better.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Sure, fine, whatever. Just get on with it.”

Bucky nodded and blew out another breath, settling back against the couch again and running a hand through his long hair. He shifted a little, chewed on his bottom lip and picked at the fabric of his jeans. Took another sip of his cooling coffee. Finally, he settled a soft gaze on her and began his story.

“We’re not what you think we are.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows.

“Well, okay, we are a motorcycle club,” he corrected, raising a hand. “But, we’re not...those articles, the things on the internet, that’s not us. We aren’t vandals or thieves, or whatever else they’re saying about us around town.”

“How about murderers? Drug traffickers?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “No, of course not.” Y/N wasn’t laughing. He continued.

“Look - shit I’m bad at this. Lemme start over,” he shook his head. “Me and Steve, we’ve been best friends since we were 6 years old. When we got out of high school, we went straight into the Army together. Didn’t really know what else to do, ya know? And there’s money for college with the military, so. But when we got out, still had no idea what we were gonna do. I had worked in a garage in high school, and we always liked working on motorcycles together...over time, we had sort of a group so we decided to make it a real motorcycle club. And then...when we moved out here…”

He paused for a moment, working his jaw. Y/N noticed that he couldn’t keep his eyes on her, couldn’t maintain eye contact.

“...when we moved out here, I guess three years ago now, we overlapped territory with some bad people. Club called Hydra - but their leader goes by Crossbones. They’re...Y/N, they’re everything you thought our club would be. Violent, ruthless. Cruel. They’ve managed to keep their names and activities out of the press, somehow, since the Avengers are more visible. We get blamed for everything. But we try to stop them, where we can, and that’s how we end up getting into...accidents.”

“Mm. Accidentally running into knives.”

“Yeah,” he gave her an awkward grimace. “And - well, I shouldn’t really tell you more than that. You’ve gotta believe me, I would never have dragged you into any of this. You could be in danger just from bein’ seen with me - these people, Hydra, they wouldn’t hesitate to-” He cut himself off with a shake of his head, eyes wide and pleading. Y/N felt ice drip down her spine. Suddenly she was more scared of what he didn’t say, wouldn’t say.

“Well, it’s a little late for that isn’t it,” she sighed coldly, crossing her arms.

His eyes, those damn eyes. He was begging her to believe him, and the worst thing was that she did. Not all of it, not every turn of his vague and incomplete story, but there was just something about it, about him. She wanted to trust him. Even when he had just told her that he could get her killed.

“Alright then.”

“Alright?” His eyebrows went up.

“I believe you,” she shrugged.

“You do?”

“I mean, not all of it. You’ve got some pretty big holes in your story. But maybe you’re not a criminal.”

He practically melted with relief, his posture relaxing as he sagged against the couch. A rueful smile stretched up the corner of his mouth.

“I - thank you, that really means a lot.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, standing and gathering up his tray. “Now get some rest. That’s enough talking for now.”

**********

Bucky had been out cold for three hours now, and Y/N was pacing back and forth in her kitchen.

Okay, so maybe he could explain things. Some things. Didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. His friends were dangerous. His enemies were even more so. In spite of her best efforts to ignore him, he was now napping on her couch as he recovered from an injury. So much for that.

She refilled her coffee cup for the fifth time, ignoring the trembling in her fingers and wondering what in the hell she was actually going to do about this. It’s not like she could call the cops - what would she tell them? That she helped a wounded man? And she had no one here, no friends, no family. No one she could run to for help.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the front door.

Bucky slept through it, his faint snores coming steadily from the couch as she crept through the living room. She couldn’t imagine who would be coming to her house, let alone on a Saturday, but she poked her head around the door anyway.

“Hello!” Mr. Van Horn waved through the screen door.

Shit.

“Oh, hi!” Y/N waved nervously, stepping out onto the porch and pulling the front door nearly closed behind her. “Hi, Mr. Van Horn, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you’d be stopping by today?”

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry I didn’t call - hope I didn’t wake you up or anythin’,” he frowned apologetically. “Was just droppin’ by to check on things? See if you were all settled?”

“Yes, I’m - I’m all moved in, doing just fine,” she shrugged, trying to keep things light and talk him off her porch as quickly as possible. “Everything’s just fine.”

“Well, that’s what I like to hear,” the old man smiled, adjusting his John Deere cap. “And what about your clinic? Everything going alright?”

Oh god please just leave before coming inside and finding the man who bled on your mother’s carpet.

“Sure, sure, nothing too crazy. Just, you know, trying to stay busy.” She smiled, bright and fake, unsure how much longer she could keep making small talk before etiquette required her to invite him inside.

She was spared and condemned by the revving of motorcycle engines up the road.

They turned at the same time to see them, three bikes speeding down the small residential street, their riders dressed all in black and covered in helmets. Mr. Van Horn finally seemed to notice the Harley parked in the driveway, and his eyes slid between the bike and Y/N and the newcomers, mouth puckering in a confused frown. When the bikes pulled up next to the curb in front of the house, he half turned back to her.

“What on earth have you gotten yourself into, girl?” he muttered.

She stared at him, at her uninvited guests, speechless. Asked herself the exact same question as she watched Steve Rogers pull of his helmet and dismount his bike, eating up the driveway in long strides. Sam Wilson followed, flanking him, and a woman - beautiful, with bright red hair.

“Afternoon,” Steve smiled tightly, his greeting directed more to Y/N than to the old man standing next to her. He gave a small nod to Mr. Van Horn, but kept his gaze on her. “How is he?”

She crossed her arms across her chest, an afternoon breeze bringing out goosebumps along her arms.

“Fine. Resting.”

Steve nodded, then made for the front door. His friends followed a half-step behind, Sam giving Y/N a small nod and a wave. They were swinging open the screen door and slipping inside before she could protest.

When she looked back at Mr. Van Horn, he was already watching her.

“I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing,” he sighed, and walked back to his truck.

**********

“So, he’s going to fully recover?”

“As far as I can tell, yes. But all I did was patch him up in a bathroom, he should have a real examination at the clinic - better yet, a hospital.”

“Hm. Looks like I’m still stuck with your sorry ass, Barnes.” Sam Wilson slumped in an armchair next to the couch. Bucky flipped hims off, frowning.

“He’s lucky - we’re lucky - you’re around,” the woman, Natasha, spoke up. “He would have died last night without your help.”

“Yes, I think that’s pretty obvious,” Y/N frowned.

“The point is,” Steve came around the corner from the kitchen, holding a glass of water. “That we need you. Life or death. You’re smart, you’re good at your job, you’re great under pressure. It’s that simple - you’re the best option we have.”

“Just because I’m a good doctor - which I am - doesn’t mean I want to join a biker gang. You’re all crazy!” She gestured to Bucky, propped up against the arm of the couch. “He almost died last night, and that’s just a casual Friday to you! You’re fucking insane!”

“We’re a biker gang that can pay you,” Steve countered.

“Enough that you could pay off your student loans in half the time,” Natasha added. Y/N’s gaze snapped to her, brows furrowed, but Natasha only shrugged. “I do my research. I know you wouldn’t be out here, in the middle of nowhere, if it weren’t for the deal to let the clinic pay off your debt. Let us do it, and you can get out of here in 2 years, tops.”

Y/N was struck dumb, both by the size of the offer and the starkness of it. The opportunity. They were offering her thousands, tens of thousands, just to be a part time field medic for a couple of years? They needed someone that badly? The way they were all looking at her, she knew the offer was serious.

“If I say yes…” she spoke slowly, tasting the apprehension on her tongue. “You agree that I have a limited contract? I do the work, I get the money, and then I’m gone. I’m taking 2 years as a guarantee.”

“Agreed.” Steve nodded immediately.

“You won’t try to keep me here? Withhold money? Blackmail or kidnap me?”

Sam and Bucky chuckled a bit at her comment, but Y/N was dead serious, holding Steve’s gaze.

“You have my word,” Steve crossed a hand over his heart. “You’re free to go whenever you want, money or no money.”

Y/N turned and looked out her front window, the blinds opened to the afternoon sunshine. The grass of her lawn was still a brilliant green, the late summer hum of insects still loud and strong, the sun warm. She thought of her old apartment in the city, summers with the windows open and dining al fresco and her friends sipping beer on the fire escape.

She stuck out her hand. Clasped Steve Rogers’ in a tight grip.

“Fine. We have a deal.”

[darknessisafriend]

Hi could you write something like if the reader was alone while walking home to Joker at night in Gotham and some men attacked her leaving her on the road hurt and all bloody,and when she comes home Joker didn't expect to see her like that and takes care of her but also will find the assholes who hurted her "kitten" and beats the shit out of them? Sorry this is caos and my English is not that good,thank you if you'll do it!!

You made this request some time ago but I never forgot and I finally wrote I hope you’ll like it :)

You’re fucked

You were tired and annoyed, your day at work got longer than expected and you had to work on extra material because someone else didn´t do their job. To make things worse you lived 1 hour away from work, you moved in with Joker and it was easier for him to do what he does from the suburbs. The subway was fine, a lot of people were taking this line to go back home, it made you feel safe. Cities and especially Gotham were dangerous places for women, even more if you’re alone outside after 8 in the evening. Now what worried you the most was this 10 minutes’ walk from the subway to your flat; the neighborhood was a bit crappy and you had refused to have an escort and Joker had offered, this would only draw attention to your lover. Law and order weren´t common in this part of the city; and unfortunately very few people knew who you were with. You stopped counting how many times you had to stand your ground and fight because of some guys calling you or trying to rob you, but you had taken street fight classes you could handle the situation most of the time.

You exited the subway stop, it was getting quite freezing, and after all it was December. You tighten your coat around your body and walked to your flat; the way was pretty simple, you kept walking. A couple of shops were still open, one even had Christmas decorations, and it was nice.

“Hi…” lost in your thoughts you startled at hearing someone calling you. You quickly glanced in their direction; there were 3 guys against the wall of a building. ‘And here we go’ you thought resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

You decided to continue walking; hopefully they will leave it at that.

“Hey Miss! C’mon don’t be afraid, we just wanna have little talk, we don´t bite, cm´here!” another insisted. You continued to walk pretending not to hear them, your heartbeat slightly increasing. You heard footsteps behind you ‘I´m really not in the mood to fight’ you started to increase your pace. Until you felt your arm being yanked back.

“Don’t you fuckin’ ignore me!” badgered the man holding your arm.

“Yeah you´re not very polite…” chided the third one. You tried to snatch your arm out of his grip.

“Just let me go before I make you regret it.” You threatened but they laughed.

“What you think we´re scared of a small girl like you!?”

“Exactly you fuck…” a heavy slap across your cheek cut you off, you can feel your cheek burning, the shock makes your eyes wet. You clenched your jaw, you won´t let them get off so easily. Taking him by surprise you throw a punch right in his nose, making him groan in pain. But the 2 other men joined him gripping you by your coat, shoulders, pushing towards a dark alley.

“You´re gonna regret this!” you raged at them from the top of your lungs, you received another hit, this time a fist met your jaw, sending you to the ground,

You smirked, chuckling as blood came out of your mouth.

“What´s so funny bitch!?”

“You don´t know who you´re dealing with…when he´ll see how you´ve damaged his kitten…you´re fucked…” they were taken aback by your statement, still they didn´t flee probably not believing you. You tried to crawl away from them, you couldn’t handle a fight against 3 but they were fast, gripping your hair tightly.

“We’re gonna teach you your place!” one of them growled, kicking you in your belly, you curved into a ball trying to protect yourself, and they continued to punch you over and over again you weren´t sure how much time you could handle this.

“The cops are coming! Let´s get the fuck outta here!”  One of them urged, they ran away leaving you bleeding and in pain, you gritted your teeth, you needed to get away, the cops could discover who you are or more like who you are with. So, limping, you walked away as fast as possible, thankfully they didn´t seem to notice you.

With the back of your hand you angrily wiped off the blood coming out of your open lip.

“Shit!” you cursed, Joker was going to notice and he´s going to be pissed, you who wanted a quiet and relaxing evening.

You continued to walk, your head was pounding, painful, and you had blood on your brand new coat. You sighed; a shitty night was an understatement. You didn’t want to Joker to find out even though they deserved to suffer for what they did to you, you just felt exhausted, like any ounce of energy you had, had left your body, you just wanted to lie down on the sofa.

As you entered the building Joker´s henchmen looked at you, some whispering about your state; some even started leaving as if they knew how he was going to react. When you entered the elevator you rolled your shoulder, your back muscles starting to ache, you look at yourself in the mirror and you winced at the view of your face, the punch you had received on your cheek was starting to bruise purple, you had dried blood smeared on your chin. It was a bit hard for you to breath; maybe you had a broken rib.  

You nodded at the two guards in front of the door of the apartment, and you turned the knob as quietly as you could, sometimes he was too busy to talk to you right away, you quietly took off your shoes and tip toed towards the bedroom.

“Where do you think you’re going…” you jumped at his voice behind you. You took a deep breath ‘he´s going to be so pissed´ you told yourself as you pivoted to face your lover. The smile he had instantly disappeared when he saw your face, his eyes grew darker, deadly. You didn´t moved waiting for his next move.

“Who did this to you kitten?” he asked in a very calm voice which you knew was even more dangerous, you lowered your eyes trying to find an excuse or something to prevent him from going on a manhunt.

“I don´t know…” you started but he grabbed you by the coat, pulling you closer to him, you winced at the pain coming from your ribs. Softly he brushed his fingers on your face, assessing the damages, the contrast between his tenderness with you and the hatred in his eyes was terrifying.

“Don´t make me ask a second a time.” He grumbled, his voice shaking with anger.

“It was three guys around the main street right after the shop with the Christmas decorations, they fled to the north when the cops arrived, one of the guys had some sort of ring on his middle finger, that´s all I remember…” He clicked his tongue frustrated not to have more details.

His hands still cupping your face he turned his head to the living room, and made a sign with his head, you realized it was because some of his men were there, probably for some meeting and now he was ordering them to find those who hurt you.

“Bring them to me.” He ordered, you knew this wasn´t going to be pretty, they were going to suffer. The men left, leaving you alone with your lover; he brought you to the bathroom, making you sit on the edge of the bathtub. He took some medical supply you had actually bought for him one day. He started with your face, delicately using a compress to clean the blood away, he was being very attentive. Then he gently lifted your shirt, he had seen you wincing, he checked your side, his past experience gave him a good knowledge of this kind of injury, your side was turning purple, he softy touched your ribs, the contact of his cold fingers making you jump.

“Shhhh stay still kitten.” He directed “Nothing broken.” His eyes inspected the rest of your body and landed on your right hand, small purple bruises were appearing on your knuckles.

“You fought back didn´t you?” he smirked as if he was proud of your temper.

“Wasn´t gonna let them do whatever they wanted to do to me…” he hummed in response going to the kitchen to retrieve some ice for your hand, he came back and put it on your knuckles and slightly bandaged it to hold it on your hand for a bit.

“Thank you…” you started, lowering your eyes. He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind you ear.

“You need to rest now, go to bed” he ordered you, helping you to stand up.

“But…”

“Don´t discuss my orders kitten, not tonight.” He grumbled almost threatening, you sighed, there was no point in trying to argue with him, he had taken his decision.

He helped you change clothes and get you to bed, as he pulled the covers up to your chin; he caressed your cheek, anger still present in his eyes.

“Rest now, I´ll be back soon.” He said softly as he left the bedroom, you suddenly realized how exhausted you were, your eyelids feeling heavy, you fell asleep within a few minutes.

 A few hours later

 You started to wake up, feeling someone stroking and kissing your hand, you opened your eyes to see your lover, you smiled at this vision.

“It´s time kitten…”

“Time for what?” you asked sleepily a bit confused. A big grin formed on his face and he openly laughed.

“I got them! Come!” he answered excited, you realized he was talking about your attackers, you got up following him, your ribs still hurting. As you arrived in the living room, he gesture with his arms to three men, hands tied behind their back, one of them lying dead on the floor “sorry I couldn´t restrain myself…” commented happily Joker. The two others were already quite beaten up. You instantly recognized them, and hatred rose in your chest.

Joker circled around you and stopped behind you, his mouth coming closer to your ear.

“Do you want me to hurt them?” he asked, you simply had to say the word and he will satisfy your every desire.

“I want them to suffer” he chuckled and took a sharp knife in his hands.

What followed is a session of violence that you had rarely seen from him, but you enjoyed it, releasing a smile when they pleaded mercy. They will not get it; they had no mercy for you.

Joker was panting now, he had taken all his rage out, and he turned to look at you, waiting for your instructions on what to do next, you were satisfied with what he did to them, now you just wanted to get rid of them.

“Give me your gun.” You asked him, extending your hand. He chuckled, happy with your reaction as he took out his gun and handed it to you. You slowly approached one of the men and put the gun on his forehead, you fired, the loud bang of the shot followed by the sound of his body falling on the floor. You went to the next one, he had his head lowered, and he was panting.

“Look at me asshole.” You ordered him, fearfully he lifted his head and the second his eyes met yours, you pulled the trigger.

You had to admit you felt good after this; they got what they deserved and that thanks to Joker. He was laughing, happy with how it turned out, you smirked at him another feeling rising in your chest. And your lover felt it; you jumped in his arms your lips crashing on his mouth, ignoring the pain from your open lip, he grabbed you by your hips, kissing you deeply, his desire for you quickly rising.

“Leave and expose their corpses as a warning, anyone who touches my girl will have the same fate.” he ordered to his men, his lips brushing against yours.  

As they were leaving you lead him to the bedroom, your body wasn´t ready to handle some wild session just yet. You pushed Joker on the bed, taking off your top, exposing your breast to your lover, who growled with desire.  

“Such a good girl…” he purred smiling as sat on top of him.

You leaned in, kissing his lips; his hand on your hips, he trailed kisses down your neck making you moan, then his lips went to your nipples nibbling them as his hands went in your pants, caressing your butt.

Biting your lower lip you buried your fingers in his green locks, then he shifted to put you underneath him, he kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours. You could already feel him hard against your leg. Your other hand traveled to his collarbone under his shirt, his skin was burning hot.  He let you slide off his jacket, letting it fall on the floor, then he started to unbutton his shirt, you watched him reveal his torso, you loved it, you wanted to kiss every inch of it…

“You´re so beautiful…” he growled, his eyes were now dark with desire. Your heart skipped a beat at his words. One of his hands travelled down you’re your belly to enter your panties, you moaned at the contact, you felt him smile against your lips.

“You look pretty good yourself…” You purred between your moans; he didn’t need to hear more and crashed his lips against yours one more time, slightly making your open lip bleed.

His work between your legs is becoming more intense, you’re panting, you want to feel him inside of you, you let out a needy moan.

He chuckles against your jaw “you like that kitten?” he teases softly biting your sensitive skin, you chuckled enjoying the moment so much. As one hand was grabbing his hair, the other slide down his lower belly, then beneath his pants and underwear, you stroke his cock, gently, slowly at first making him longingly moan.

“Fuck…feelin’ playfull huh?” he swooned against your lips. He was being so sensitive to your care that it made it difficult for him to do anything, even kiss you, your smirked at this.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore and unzipped his pants to let his erection out. You felt his cock at your wet entrance. Slowly he entered you, you released a shaky breath when you felt him inside of you. His thrusts quickly became more forceful, his forehead against your collarbone. You gripped his shoulders bringing him closer to you, feeling his torso brushing against your breast. His thrusts became deeper and quicker making your eyes roll back. You felt yourself coming closer and closer and Joker was too, his groan becoming louder and louder. You cried at out as you came, an electrifying pleasure spreading across your body, he quickly followed you in a long moan.

He was out of breath, his whole body shaking, you kissed him one more time as he slowly turned to lie down on his back, gently putting you on his torso, he reached for a cigarette on the night stand, lighting it, he exhaled the smoke as he laid back his  head on the pillow, the arm around your shoulders, distractingly caressing your skin.

“Exactly how I wanted the night to go…minus the beating of course” you laughed with him, planting soft kisses in his torso. Being with the king of Gotham had some nice privileges.

Tag list: @help-i-am-obssessed @the-ineffable-dreamer @skaravile @arthurfleckjoker2019 @cigznvalentines

[neerasrealm]

Into The Woods - Chapter Two

Story also available on Wattpad.

Chapter one

Chapter Two - Healing

"Stay still."

"It fucking hurts!"

"I know it does! But it's necessary." Liu snapped. "Now keep quiet, you don't want the neighbors to hear, do you?" 

Jeff shook his head. No, he definitely didn't want that. He looked away. Liu sighed and ruffled the boy's messy, dirty blonde hair, forcing a smile. "Now lemme see your eye." He said, dropping the antiseptic wipe he'd been using on Jeff's mouth gash.

Jeff tilted his head up, letting Liu look at his damaged eye. "What'd you do to it?" Liu asked. 

"I-I wanted to keep looking at the smile…" he murmured weakly. "I tried to cut off the lid."

"With the knife…?"

"Yep."

Liu grimaced. Jeff had cut up his brow a fair bit and- Liu didn't doubt that he'd stabbed his own eye too. The damaged eye kept leaking and Jeff kept trying to blink despite not having an eyelid to do so with. 

"Can you see?"

"It's really blurry." Jeff replied. "I-I can see with the other one though! I can still see you!" Jeff forced a smile. Liu stared at him. Jeff was such a sweet kid- he could have a temper, yeah, but he was more dangerous to himself than others. He didn't know why his brother attacked those kids the way he did…it had been bothering him since the incident happened, and- "Liu?"

He snapped out of his thoughts. "Yeah?"

"My eye really burns." Jeff murmured. "D-Do you think I could use your eyedrops?" 

Eyedrops...Liu stood up quickly and pulled the bathroom cabinet open. He had eyedrops, just for helping him put his contacts in on the rare occasions he wore them. 

"Tilt your head," he said. Jeff did as he was told and Liu applied the drops. He smiled weakly. "Good." Standing up, Liu dusted himself off and looked down at Jeff. He held his hand out and helped him to his feet. "You ready to go?"

Jeff gulped. He nodded and grabbed the brown satchel Liu had given him. It didn't contain much, just some spare clothes, his phone, earbuds, a power bank, a stick of deodorant, his toothbrush, pyjamas, a hairbrush and his wallet. Liu grabbed his own backpack from the floor beside the bathtub. It contained very much the same, but with more money. They'd found a significant amount stashed away in their parent's room. 

He grabbed the medkit he'd been using on Jeff and closed it, slipping it into the backpack before putting it on. He held his hand out to Jeff.

"We're gonna get some stuff before we go, okay?" He said. Jeff nodded and took his hand. 

After putting on jackets, raiding the kitchen for snacks and slipping out the backdoor, Liu led them downtown. He didn't know the area that well yet, but he remembered seeing a pharmacy not too far from their house. As they walked he thought. Was he really going on the run? Jeff murdered someone- that wasn't right, he couldn't let him get away with that but…

He remembered the scared look on Jeff's face, the gun he'd seen next to his dad's cold, dead hand. He felt bile rising in his throat at the memory but he swallowed it. No. He had to be brave, for Jeff. 

He stopped outside the pharmacy, then looked at Jeff. He reached over and pulled the boy's hood up. "Jeff," he said. "You wait out here okay?" 

Jeff nodded and watched him walk into the pharmacy. He looked back out at the street, looking around nervously. He fiddled with his hands. 

Paranoid, he started to think. What if Liu left him out here? And the police found him? What if Liu was using this as an opportunity to go to the police?? No- no Liu wouldn’t do that...he trusted his brother more than anything, right? Right. He started to pick at his leathery white skin. It was easy to pull and tear pieces off, what with it being so burnt.

‘‘I got the stuff.’‘

Jeff immediately brightened up. Liu stepped out just as he'd started to contemplate going inside himself. Liu led him into an alleyway beside the pharmacy and dug through the plastic bag he'd brought out.

"I got you a couple things," he said. He pulled out a gauze eyepatch and held it out to Jeff. "This is for your eye, to keep it clean. There isn't much else we can do besides putting drops in and giving you antibiotics to prevent infections." 

Jeff took the eyepatch and looked at it for a moment. He carefully put it on and looked up at Liu.

"...Do I look cool?"

"The coolest." Liu smiled at him. Jeff grinned. "I also got you this," he pulled a black face mask out of the bag and held it out to Jeff. Jeff looked confused. "People will freak out seeing your face, since it's scarred, so you need to wear it."

Jeff stared at the face mask. It was simple. Black, made of cloth, but...what bothered Jeff was that Liu said he needed to wear it. Was he...ugly…? He could understand other people being freaked out by his appearance, but...did Liu think he was gross…? 

No, no! Liu wouldn't think that! But- no, people wouldn't have to be freaked out by him. He wasn't a freak! Jeff felt anger suddenly rise in him. His hands shook. 

"You can still end this. You could run off without him." 

A voice. Deep and haunting. It seemed to echo and whisper all at once. It sounded like it was in Jeff's head but also just beside him at the same time. He looked up, eye staring straight at Liu, who wasn't even looking at him. 

"You don't need him, Jeff." The voice whispered. "You're better than him, stronger! He'll slow you down!"

Liu looked up from his backpack and looked at Jeff. "You goo- URK!" He was cut off by Jeff lunging at him. Liu doubled over, gasping. Jeff had elbowed him in the stomach. He looked up, staring at his brother. Jeff's eyes seemed to almost glow as he stared at him. "Jeff…?"

Jeff said nothing, just stepped forward. Liu gulped.

"Jeff, knock it off! You're not funny!" 

Another step. 

"I mean it bro! I'm trying to help you!"

"I don't want your HELP!" Jeff lunged at him, hands reaching out to grab Liu's throat. Liu, out of instinct, shoved Jeff off. While he was stumbling back, he fell over and banged his head off a trash bag. He groaned and stared at the sky. 

"Jeff…?"

"Ugh…" 

Liu leaned over his brother. He gulped. "Are you- gonna attack me again?" Jeff blinked. He looked at Liu and shook his head. "Why did you do that?"

"I-" Jeff sat up and looked away. He chewed on his nails. Liu was mad, Liu was definitely mad. He'd attacked him, he'd attacked his brother, he was nothing but a danger- he gulped, suppressing tears threatening to break. "...The voice told me to do it." He hugged his knees, looking away. He couldn’t even trust himself to not attack his brother. Maybe their parents had been right, that he was just a-

"The voice?" Liu looked worried now. Jeff snapped out of his thoughts and looked up slowly. He nodded.

"I-It tells me to...hurt people…" His voice was soft, quiet, scared. Liu's expression softened. He crouched down and held his arms out. Jeff stared at him for a few moments, then slowly wrapped his arms around him. Liu sighed against him. 

"Okay...well don't listen to it, alright?"

Jeff nodded. "I won't..." He mumbled.

[hereticpriest]

Reap your Rewards

Warnings: Dubcon, brutal NSFW

@lvngdvns

Mischa Tarasov, the eldest of the Tarasov children, had always been everything her father wished. She was brilliant, with a keen mind for business, strategy and tactical defense. She was charming, a brilliant liar, and able to think on her feet. She spoke multiple languages, had been tutored in tactics since she was a child, and had been taught varying forms of self-defence since she was a toddler. Ballet, gymnastics and acrobatics had rounded out her training, giving her versatility and instilling an almost unhealthy work ethic in her. She was everything her brother wasn’t; driven, focused, able to lead or follow in any given situation. Mischa could take a punch, could endure torture, and could inflict it effectively. She was everything that Viggo wanted. Which was also likely why he lost her.

John remembers the day he met her. Viggo was having her perform for him when he called John in for a task. Ever the proud father, Viggo had gestured to his pride and joy and told John to stay and watch. She was skilled, John had to acknowledge it. Even The Director would have approved of her skill, though she likely wouldn’t have shown it.

“John, this is my daughter, Mischa. Mischa, dorogaya, this is Mr. Wick. He works with us.” Viggo introduced them.

“I know who he is, papochka. He killed my boyfriend for you.” The eighteen-year-old hummed, locking eyes with John and blowing him a kiss. Viggo laughed, clapping John on the back and getting him to sit so they could talk while Mischa danced.

Later that same day, John had laid Mischa across her lavish four-poster bed and eaten her out. He had the pleasure of being the first man to make her squirt, the first man to fuck her mouth, and the first man to make her cum without touching her clit. He still remembers the day that, after completing a job, Mischa had crawled into his lap with a stiletto and told him to carve his initials into her thigh. That was also the second-last time he saw Mischa. By then she was twenty-one, in university, and she was leaving in a month to visit her family in Russia.

He remembers her golden blonde hair that always smelt like violets. He remembers her peridot eyes, truly the window to her soul. He could always read her by her eyes, though he was aware that was a talent all for him. He remembers the way he fucked her in the ass, just to say he was the man who had so many firsts with her. She’d bit down on his belt, screaming bloody murder at him despite the fact that he was well aware he’d prepared her enough to take it. Maybe he hadn’t asked for permission, but he rarely did with her. They were toxic that way. Always fighting for the next scrap of eachother. He had scars on his back from her nails ripping into him, and another on his shoulder from her biting into him while he took her on her father’s desk. Perhaps that’s part of why they never worked out.

She left for Russia, left him, and the next and final time he saw her was an accident four years later. He came in to get the details for a job, and she was visiting her father and brother. He knew she had left the mob a couple of years back and had been working for the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow, but he didn’t know she would be back. He fucked her again in her hotel room, forcing her up into an arabesque and making her scream so loud they got a noise complaint. He took a necklace with him, one that her father had given her when she was little. Maybe part of him knew he wouldn’t see her again.

Which brought him to his current situation. Iosef was dead, Viggo was dead, and he was still angry. Without Helen, his impulse control was shot, and he did the only thing he could think to do. Finding her took the longest. She was back in America, living and working in New York City at the American Ballet Theatre School. Aurelio ended up being the one to give him an address, as he had worked on her bike only a couple of months ago. According to Aurelio, she was assisting a sommelier on the side, designing custom weaponry and modifications. Otherwise, she didn’t have her hands in any business anymore.

Despite the fact that she hadn’t been in the game in at least ten years, he packed enough heat to handle anything. She hadn’t changed her name for some reason, so she clearly could protect herself still; if she couldn’t she would be dead.

Mischa has a pretty regular routine. Up at four AM to be at practice and geared up before six, lunch at eleven, teach classes from noon to four, practice from four to five-thirty with a half hour cooldown, dinner, and then custom work for Hephaestion’s clients until bed at nine or ten. She rarely deviated from her schedule, and only when she didn’t have design work to do. She didn’t have a boyfriend, and only had a couple of friends, one of which was her roommate, Mallory. Mal rarely was home, spending most of her time with her lover, an older man who retired from the life before Mischa and Mallory met. Duncan was one of the few people who knew who Mischa was, but he didn’t bring it up beyond a quick conversation when they met that ended in Mischa reminding him that she knew how to kill him if he crossed her friend.

Mallory and her boyfriend were an odd pair, but they fit, and they left Mischa with the apartment to herself most of the time, so she wasn’t complaining. It was nice having company when she needed it after living a lonely life for so long. It was also nice having someone who understood Mischa, who shared her life and herself and her boyfriend with Mischa. It had been a bit of an accident the first time. Mal was teasing Mischa about never going out and getting laid, legs draped over Duncan’s lap while they shared a bottle of bourbon and a pizza. Mischa was sitting on the floor, her head leaned back against Mallory’s stomach while Mal played with her hair. Duncan had told Mal not to tease her, that Mischa was clearly not someone who could give herself to people she didn’t trust, but also didn’t want any attachments.

“You trust us.” Mal argued when Mischa agreed with him. She agreed again, and Mal thought about it for a moment before giving Mischa’s hair a gentle tug. “You need to get off, Mischa. All you do is work. You’re so tense you make my shoulders hurt just looking at you.”

“Find someone I trust, who also won’t get attached and just wants fun, and I’ll be all for it.” Mischa retorted, and Mal shut her up with a kiss. The trio ended up in Mischa’s bed, as it was the largest, and the next morning, everything was as normal as any other day. Duncan and Mallory continued their relationship without Mischa, without any pressures, and their relationship as a trio was reserved for days when Mischa needed them, or Mallory needed her, or Duncan felt like spicing things up. It was the most comfortable life she could have ever imagined for herself, and she wasn’t sure what she would do when Mallory moved in with Duncan and left her.

Mal and Duncan had been at his place for nearly a week straight, so Mischa took advantage of the massive bathtub that had sold her on the apartment, then walked around in her robe for the night. Standing in front of the window with the night sky behind her and the skyline of the city, she opened her robe enough to offer a tantalizing view of her body and took a picture, sending it to the couple with a text saying she missed them. She was feeling tense again, and she missed Mallory’s voice echoing through the apartment.

She had the weekend off of work, and only had to do her stretches to keep herself limber, so she popped a bottle of red and took two large gulps. She draped herself over the couch, kicking her feet up and closing her eyes. The bottle went to her lips again, and she chugged down a fair amount, but a crunch from the other room alerted her and she threw the bottle in that direction before flipping over the back of the couch. Grasping a knife from its hiding space under the couch, she eyed her exit points and crawled along to the side table to fetch her bronze knuckles.

“Mischa.” His voice sounded from the kitchen, and she swore, peaking out to catch a view of him then throwing the couch in his direction. It knocked him, and she took the chance to bolt into her bedroom and slam the door behind her. The lock wouldn’t hold him off for long, but it gave her the chance to arm herself with the TTI TR-1 Ultralight that she had hidden under her bed. The door comes off of its hinges easily, and Mischa catches her first sight of him in years. He’s still beautiful and it infuriates her that he still sends a pulse of heat straight to her core at the mere sight of him.

“Mischa, stop.”

“I know why you’re here, John. Finish off the family, huh? Doesn’t matter that I had nothing to do with my brother or father’s actions, and it doesn’t matter that I haven’t come after you despite you taking out my only family. I’m not stupid, lyubimiy.” Mischa throws the knife at him and smirks when it buries itself in his shoulder. From his shout, it went deep. However, he knows where she is now, so she begins to crawl under the bed to get to the other side, only to be grabbed by the hips before she gets more than her shoulders under. John wrenches her out, slamming her head against the frame and stepping on her hand to get her to release the SMG she’s clutching.

“Mischa, stop fucking struggling.” John curses, hand wrapping around her throat and yanking her across the floor.

“Let go of me, John.” Mischa claws at his hand, then rotates and hooks her legs around his body. One around his neck pulls him off-centre, while the other gives her leverage to knock him over and get herself up. She gets atop him, pinning him carefully and striking him in the face with her modified bronze knuckles, leaving the imprint of her name in his cheek.

“I won’t go down easy, John. I didn’t take revenge, but if you want to pull this shit with me, I’ll make sure you fucking work for it.” Mischa growls. She fights his attempts to get up, but he jabs his thumb into the spot where he had carved his initials all those years ago, and she goes off balance. He throws her down, straddling her, and she struggles harder, rolling onto her stomach and trying to pull herself from beneath him.

“I certainly want to kill you now, printcessa.” John hisses, slamming her face into the floor again to disorient her, then yanking her robe off. She fights, but he is stronger than her and she can’t see straight, so he is easily able to overpower her, yanking her legs apart to make room for him.

“John, you fucking piece of shit, don’t you dare!” Mischa shouts, and he slaps her, her ears ringing from the impact. He’s inside her before she can say another word, and the entry is made easy by how soaking wet she is.

“I’m not here to kill you, Mischa.” John growls in her ear, yanking her back into brutal thrusts that make her gasp for air. He wraps his hand around her throat, pulling her back so he can kiss and suck at the sensitive skin of her neck. When he sees a DV tattooed behind her ear under an MS, he feels a sick sort of rage build in his gut. He shoves her face down against the floor and fucks her brutally, pulling her back into his thrusts to make sure she will feel him for days.

“Scream for me, Mischa. No one is coming to save you. Not from me.” John groans as she clenches around him and bites back a cry, “You’ve been mine since I first saw you, printcessa. You’re still mine.”

Mischa gasps, clawing at the floor, hips pushing back into him like she isn’t sure if she wants to get away or not.

“Who are MS and DV?” John asks, nipping at her ear, fighting the sick desire to slice the foreign initials out of her. Mischa shakes her head, biting into her wrist to hold back an answer and her screams. He drops his hand to circle her clit in the pattern she used to like, rutting into her until she screams around her skin and shatters to pieces around him. He fills her moments later, her clenching cunt milking every drop from him.

Mischa twists her head to look at him, mouth red with her own blood and eyes hazy, and then her world is darkness.

[surrounded-by-superheroes]

Crave Ch. 2 (Bucky Barnes)

Summary; The Asset.

Makes it sound like there was only one, doesn't it? One assassin, one soldier, one life stolen and taken over to be used as a tool for evil minds. There was never only one. Hydra's bloodstained hands, people called them. And once one's hands have been bathed in blood so many times, it's near impossible to look at the skin and not see red. Yet, when Hydra has been pushed out into the open by the Avengers there's the slightest flicker of hope for the asset left behind. You see, I never had a Steve Rogers. No one is looking for me. The only person I've ever had is the one I was trapped with, the one that's now free. The one who, if he finds me, I will surely destroy.

A/N; Second chapter! Reblog and comment and tell me what you think!!! :)

Warnings; Language, sexy teasing.

Words; 3,132

Chapter One~~~Crave Masterlist~~~Complete Masterlist

Chapter Two

The Facility

My apartment is small and relatively empty. A mattress on the floor with one heavy, navy blanket tossed across it, a small island, mismatched stools, bare kitchen counters excepting a coffee maker and toaster, stove, microwave, and mini fridge in the corner. There’s a bathroom just across the kitchen the size of a closet and has my big suitcase in it with what clothes I own. A couple of books lay beside the mattress and supplies me the only entertainment in my tiny apartment. After a quick shower last night, I just put underwear and a big T-shirt on, then fell onto the mattress to get some sleep. It was about three in the morning when I fell asleep. Which is why I’m pissed that it’s seven and I’m hearing a knock at the door. Knife clipped to my underwear, I stalk over to the door and swing it open.

James is leaning in the doorway with a dark blue baseball cap pulled low on his head. He’s traded his black clothes for dark jeans, rust Henley, and dirty white sneakers. My eyes shut in irritation and to shut out just how good he looks as my taut muscles relax.

“Gotcha.” He smirks as I open my eyes. “Nice outfit.” He looks me up and down appreciatively. This is made even worse since the shirt I’m wearing used to be his.

“It’s too early. Go away.” I swing the door at him and walk to the kitchen to make coffee. A thump tells me he caught the door and a slight click speaks to him shutting it behind him as he comes in. Drat.

“Little rude. Then again, you did give me a bullshit address before so maybe this is you being nice.” I shoot him a glare as I make a pot of coffee. If he’s sticking around, I’ll need it. “So, this is your place…” I whirl around and nearly throw the mug in my hands at his head. His eyes widen amusedly when my stormy grey eyes meet his clear blue ones.

“Oh Jesus, don’t even start. Sorry, I’m not sleeping on silk sheets and having eggs benedict every morning, but this is how I’ve decided to live. If you have a problem with it, get the fuck out.” I snap and spin back to my coffee pot. It actually takes him a minute to respond. Must be getting old.

“This place is shit, Rosie. I know, I’ve had places like this.” He tells me in a slightly softer voice and comes to this side of the island to be closer to me. After pressing the on button, I turn back around to face him as the pot groans.

“Don’t call me that godforsaken name.” I hiss and look up to meet gentle, stupidly affectionate eyes.

“Why don’t you let me take you out of here? No bullshit, I want an answer this time.” He crosses his ankles and arms at the same time to tell me he isn’t going anywhere and raises an eyebrow. I notice his arms flex and can tell he’s holding himself back from touching me, a habit I would’ve thought he’d have forgotten by now. Sighing, I hop up on the counter and put my hands in my lap so I don’t flash him.

“Pretty sure I already told you. Besides, what would I even do there, James? Hang out with the janitor? At least I’d have something in common with him.” He waits for me to continue and I roll my eyes. “Invisibility.” He huffs and pushes off the island to walk over to me. My legs instinctively widen to make room for him and the second his hands touch my legs goosebumps pop up all over my body. My soul sighs at being close to him again as electricity crackles between us. Cold and hot fingers tap in a line on my thighs as he stares into my eyes. “Oh, Chr-” I force a frown onto my face.

“You’ll be with me,” James says quietly and I nearly throw up my heart in his face. “And I can look after you. I’d be happy to get an apartment a little ways from the facility with you. Separate rooms. Single room, if you want.” He smirks a little to lighten the seriousness of his proposal. “Bottom line is, doll, I’m not leaving you. We’ve been apart for a little while,” I snort, “and I’ve got to say, not a fan.”

“James. It’s been years.” I sigh. “It’s been years since anything happened between us and there’s a reason for that.” I remind him and jump when the coffee pot beeps. His hands slip further up my thighs to my hips, tugging me closer to him. My hands plant themselves on his chest and he leans into it slightly, my palms pressed against his pecs.

“Because you kept running from me. You never explained that pesky reason you keep bringing up anyways. And that’s not true. It’s only been a year since that night in Brooklyn.” He corrects and I shake my head to block out the memory. Bucky pushes a little closer to grab the pot and fill the two cups I got out, then puts the container back. I press my lips together to prevent myself from reaching out to those familiar lips.

“That’s different.” I murmur and accidentally sigh with pleasure when his mismatched hands squeeze my hips. His pupils are blown wide with desire as my hands make fists in his shirt. “It was my first time seeing you since…since.” I end my sentence there and shove him back before hopping down. I take a breath of air, free for a moment from the drug that is him.

“So, you have to think I’m dead to give me any attention?” He pokes fun and I slide his coffee down the counter so he can make his own. Milk and sugar go into mine and the smell drifting up to me as I stir is at least slightly soothing.

“We���re talking, aren’t we? That’s attention.” I sass and he groans with frustration. “And I haven’t thrown you out for coming here so early. I think I’m being pretty damn hospitable.” My feet carry me around the island and to one of the stools around the island. It creaks slightly under my weight as I settle and look back at Bucky.

“Can you stop being a smartass? I told you I’m not going anywhere without you and I fucking meant it.” He walks around the island and splashes coffee on the counter when he slams his coffee mug down. Wasting coffee is a personal offense to me.

“Hey-”

He leans against the counter and huffs. “So, am I dragging you out of here, hogtying you to my bike, and taking you back? Or are you coming willingly?” There’s nothing but honesty in those baby blues, so I know he’s being serious.

“Pretty sure I could take you, Barnes. You’ve been out of the game longer than I have.” I point out and he frowns.

“Exactly. Not gonna let you fall into something again, doll. Not a chance.” My eyebrows raise and I take a hearty gulp of coffee as I think of a comeback.

“Sure. People just fall into Hydra.” I tease and his frown weakens a bit. Always prided myself on getting him to smile. “Look,” I lift a hand and rub my tired eyes. “I’ll come look at it with you. Alright?” He’s not going to let this go, obviously, so maybe this’ll hold him off a little. When he smiles it makes it harder to maintain the fact that I cannot fall into this. Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

“Good. Change and let’s go. Right now.” A heavy sigh leaves my lips and I hop up and head to the bathroom with my coffee.

“You’re infuriating.” He chuckles outside the door as I sit on my toilet to finish the rest of my coffee. My feet lift and I set them on the edge of my bathtub to relax. He can wait. Once my coffee is gone and Bucky’s asking if there’s a window in my bathroom that I’ve snuck out of, I change. First, I take my hair out of its bun and the burnished bronze falls in big curls below my shoulders, down my back. Then comes light jeans, a plain grey sweater, black socks, and ankle boots. Just to make Bucky wait a little longer I take my time doing my make-up before finally opening the door. Seems he was content to wait since he’s made himself comfortable on my mattress and is peacefully leafing through the pages of one of my books. “Tada. Let’s go.” I call and he looks up, then scans my body slowly. His lips part, “Don’t start. Come on.”

I strut out the door and wait for him to follow. He does, but with my bag on his arm and my heavy blanket around his shoulders. “Alright, ready.” He winks at me as I frown and basically skips down the stairs. Sighing, I lock the door and follow. We’re on the road within two minutes. Would’ve been quicker if Bucky hadn’t had to strap my stuff on his bike, but whatever. Hate to admit it, but it feels good to be beside Bucky on motorcycles again. Despite myself I’m grinning as we speed through the streets to what Bucky apparently thinks is my new address. As we tear into the driveway, my eyes take in just how beautiful it really is. Bright green, manicured grass, gravel that turns into concrete, multiple buildings housing multiple utilities, even a goddamn fountain which we pull up to. I’ll say this; Hydra definitely had nothing like this. Then again, there was a time where everything Shield had, so did Hydra. My eyes instantly meet James’.

“A goddamn fountain?” I ask and he grins, shouldering my bag and blanket.

“Stark. He’s fancy.” He tells me and slips happily into step beside me as we walk in. “We’ll drop this stuff off then I’ll show you around.” I roll my eyes and stay close as he jogs up a flight of stairs to a row of doors with names on them. We walk down past every door until we’ve reached a hall of blanks. There’s a door with J. Barnes on it and Bucky marches right into the one next to it. It’s small. Grey walls, white bed, black bedside tables, black tv, and a black tv stand are all that’s in the room. Except now there’s my blanket and my bag in it too.

“Never said anything about staying, Barnes,” I tell him as we head out of the room and back from where we came. He shoots me a playful grin.

“No way I’m letting you leave now, Rosie.” He teases and I shove his shoulder into the nearest door.

“What have I said about that fucking name?” I point a finger at him as he presses his lips together to prevent a laugh from escaping. The door he’s leaning on opens and he tumbles inside, then I’m laughing. God, I can’t remember the last time I laughed. A tall blonde that I know is Steve Rogers stands over James with a confused grin on his face, then he looks up at me. His eyes widen and he steps over James to reach me.

“You must be Rosalie Warren?” He questions and offers his hand to me. My smile melts.

“Uh, yeah. How exactly do you know that?” I ask and shake his hand once before releasing. Steve moves to the side as we watch Bucky stand, looking a little sheepish.

“This idiot hasn’t stopped talking about you. Would’ve been humiliating if I didn’t recognize you on sight.” I look at James with raised eyebrows.

“You talk about me, huh?” I ask and take great satisfaction when his jaw clenches.

“Great to finally meet you.” Steve tells me with an earnest smile and bright eyes a shade lighter than James’. The small smile I give him is genuine.

“Shut up, punk.” Bucky shoves Steve lightly once he’s on his feet again.

“If you didn’t want me to say anything then you should’ve shut up about her. You know Nat’ll want to see her too.” Bucky nods as a million thoughts fly through my head. His eyes meet mine again as he passes by us. “I’m in the gym, Buck. Hope to see more of you, Rosalie.” Steve tells me and jogs down the stairs. My eyes look back to Bucky’s and my eyebrows raise.

“Busted.” I tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Might as well follow him. Natasha’ll be in the gym too.” Sighing, I follow him back down the stairs and down the hall a bit until we’ve reached the gym doors. I’ll admit it. I’m a little jealous of the facility. Every exercise machine known to me is in here, lining the walls. There are even various punching bags for the old-fashioned. The center of the room is clear and the floor is padded for hand to hand combat. There’s a door to the far right with the words ‘shooting range’ written boldly above it, so that’s just another thing to look forward to. My eyes pause on Bucky’s smirk as he watches me survey the room.

“Not bad,” I admit and his smirk grows.

“Knew you’d like it. There’s a knife throwing section in the shooting range as well.” Dammit, he knows me. He gestures to another red-head in the room and starts walking over to where she and Steve are wrapping their knuckles. “Tasha.” Jade green eyes snap up and barely skim over Bucky before turning to me.

“Hi.” She greets me with a disinterested voice, but her eyes say she’s anything but.

“This is Rosalie Warren. We go back a bit.” I swear I hear her whisper ‘I bet you do’, before she stands and lets her wrapped hands fall to her sides. She scans me, then purses her lips slightly.

“Nice hair.”

My lips lift at the compliment. “Back at you.” Her hair is probably at least a shade different than mine. She smirks and I find it’s charming. More fighting a smile than quiet judgment. Or both.

“Come to see our two fossils? Pretty great, right?” Her eyes move between Steve and Bucky who both sigh and smile at the tease.

“Not bad. Actually, just trying to get this one off my back.” I flick my chin to Bucky and all eyes turn to him.

“Rosalie’s moving in with us.” He states and my mouth pops open. Excuse me?

“And you’ve told Tony?” Steve finally stands and joins the conversation with amusement dancing in his eyes. Bucky turns to Steve and crosses his arms.

“Didn’t know I needed permission,” Bucky emphasizes the last word, clearly hating it with every fiber of his being. Steve shakes his head.

“This is a team, Buck. Don’t be an asshole.” Steve playfully punches his shoulder before retreating behind a punching bag to start working.

“Stark’s in his lab. Personally, I’m not against having another red-head on the team.” Nat winks at me before walking to her own punching bag. Meanwhile, I’m sizzling slightly with anger.

“Sorry, I don’t remember saying a thing about moving here,” I tell him and cross my arms over my chest. Bucky turns to me and his eyes widen when he sees the look on my face.

“And I said I was unwilling to be without you.” He answers carefully, aware I’m pissed but unwilling to back down.

“Wow. Alright. I humored you and let you bring my stuff here and drop it off in some room. Fine. Doesn’t mean I’m going to agree to stay!” Natasha and Steve have both paused and are watching us. Steve, hesitantly entertained, Natasha, amused and wary. Bucky steps forward so we’re in each other’s breathing space and I hate how my eyes instantly flick to his lips then back to those deep blue pools.

“Sorry if I haven’t been clear, doll.” His left-hand lifts and lets his finger trickle down from my jaw to my collarbone. He sighs as it does, as if it wasn’t intentional but just a need to be in contact with me. It hits me like a shot of tequila; strong, staggering, and sweet with the promise of getting me drunk. “I’m not lettin you slip away. You’re stayin.” His words are quiet and firm and dammit it’s so hard to hold onto my anger when he’s like this.

“You don’t own me, Barnes.” Instantly, Bucky chuckles.

“Doll. We’ve owned each other for a long time.” His voice drops an octave with these words and they yank on my heart. Electricity pops and sizzles between us the longer we stand this close and I feel the pull he has on me. Judging on how he’s slowly leaning towards me, he does too.

“Don’t. Don’t say that.” I object as I feel emotion rising up in my chest. Gently, his hands claim my upper arms, but I instantly push him off. “Look, I’m not yours. You’re not mine. Back the fuck off, Bucky.” My words are a warning, but he just smirks.

“Whatcha gonna do about it, doll?” My eyes narrow. His hand reaches up and grazes my cheek. I shiver and it’s easy to get angry now. My hands frame his face and god he feels good under my hands again. Surprise creeps across his face as he smiles softly. My eyes shut as I savor this brief cheat of resisting him. “Rosie-” He’s cut off when I pull my head back and headbutt his nose. We separate instantly as his hands instead go to his nose. “Fuck!”

It’s just a little satisfying to see the shock and anger on his face. “That’s what you deserve,” I tell him firmly while Steve cracks up behind him and Natasha smiles, clearly entertained. Bucky balls up the end of his shirt and holds it to his nose to staunch the bleeding. The glimpse I get of his torso only makes this all the better.

“You fucking broke it!” He accuses and I still have yet to feel a bit of sympathy.

“Good. Remember this for the next time.” A light, airy laugh escapes Natasha as she stands and tosses a rag to James.

“I like her.” She compliments James and comes to a stop next to me. “Seen Tony yet?” I shake my head. “Walk with me, then.” Natasha pauses at the door as I spare another glance at Bucky before following her. Steve can nurse the asshole while I have fun with Natasha.

Chapter Three

[triplehelix]

for those 5 word prompts! "you can't be here now" but keep it fluffy and lighthearted to the best of ur ability that is my challenge to u c;

dallie…….this got away from me. know that i love you.

It’s going to be a good night.

He was able to get out of his council meeting early, and Gladio dropped him off in the residential district. He’s meeting Ignis at his place for a change; Ignis had promised to make something good. That means they’ll have a dinner just for the two of them at the table in Ignis’s apartment, which really feels more like a date than anything at Noct’s apartment because Ignis is over there all the time anyway. Then the two of them could just…hang out like usual. Noct could sit on the floor beside Ignis’s armchair, falling asleep with his head against Ignis’s thigh while Ignis holds reports with one hand and cards through his hair with the other.

Yeah, that’d be nice.

And who knows? Maybe they’ll end up making out on the couch or something. He can only hope.

“Ignis?” Noct calls, nudging the door shut behind himself. Usually, Ignis can be found sitting at his kitchen table or curled up in his armchair, drinking coffee while he works through some reports. There’s no sign of him now, and the warm yellow light of the lamp by the armchair is missing. And there’s a curiously sharp smell in the air that he doesn’t quite recognize. He thinks he’s smelled it a couple of times at Prompto’s place or when he’s over at Gladio’s house and Iris is around.

“I’m here!” Ignis calls, voice strained, from across the apartment.

Noct drops his bag to the floor, holding his hand out immediately in anticipation of some sort of blade. He hasn’t decided if it’ll be a dagger or sword yet. “Specs?” he asks quietly. “You good?”

“Apologies, Noct, but-”

“But what?” Noct slides his foot further along the hardwood of the apartment, heading towards the sound of Ignis’s voice. If there’s something or someone here, and Ignis of all people was caught off guard, what could he possibly do to stop that sort of person?

Ignis is silent for a moment, and then his voice sounds through the apartment with a faint echo. Bathroom, then. “You can’t be here now.”

“What’re you doing, though?” He clenches his fingers into a fist, deciding that a dagger would probably be best. He can throw those. He flips it in his hand, stepping closer to the bathroom.

No reply. Maybe a sigh?

“Specs?” he calls lowly, and his heart gives a lurch of fear. Not Specs, not Ignis, c’mon-

He throws open the door and leaps through the doorway, knife poised at the ready.

Ignis stares back at him, wide-eyed, from the bathtub.

Noct banishes the dagger immediately. “Uh.”

“Noct!” Ignis exclaims, cheeks turning scarlet. He’s not even wearing his glasses; his hair lies flat against his forehead like it used to, now a little darker from the steam in the air. “I didn’t think you’d be arriving for some time, Noct, so-”

“I got let out of the meeting early. My dad shut a lot of the council’s suggestions down,” Noct says dumbly instead of getting the fuck out of the bathroom. He should leave. He should leave. He should really leave.

He pauses for a moment, considering all the things Ignis might have been doing in his absence, and he flushes. “I can leave if you’re, y’know. Uh. Busy.” They’re not at that point in their relationship yet, really. He really shouldn’t be here.

Ignis goes even brighter red, eyes widening. “Nothing like that!” he protests immediately. “No, Noct, I wasn’t-”

“I should go,” Noct mutters, and he scrambles for the door handle, about to show himself out of Ignis’s apartment and hide in his own bed for about fifteen years.

“Noct, wait!” Ignis reaches out towards Noct, almost as if he’s about to leap out of the bathtub and chase him down, but he seems to realize what he’s doing, and where he is, and his arm just ends up hanging at the edge of the tub, fingers splayed desperately along the enamel.

Fingers with purple fingernails.

Noctis stares.

Oh, gods.

“Are you painting your nails?”

The smell makes sense now, of course. Holy shit.

“I’m also taking a bath, but…” Ignis trails off, biting thoughtfully at his lip. He seems to come to some sort of conclusion and makes direct, unwavering eye contact with Noct. “Yes. I am painting my nails.”

Noct blinks. “Oh.”

Ignis’s fingernails tap out a restless rhythm on the edge of the tub. Noct can’t stop staring at them. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to tell you this, Noct.”

“It’s not a big deal.” It’s a big deal.

“To me, it might be,” Ignis argues softly.

Noct winces. He’s said the wrong thing again. Okay. Course correction. Empathy. Conversation. He asks, “Is this why you always wear gloves?”

Ignis looks down; his long eyelashes cast shadows along his cheekbones. “Part of the reason,” he admits. “Or perhaps the gloves just became convenient when I started doing this.” He huffs out a little breathy laugh, startlingly loud in the echoing silence of the bathroom. Maybe the echo makes it resonate all the more in some part of Noct’s chest that he can’t quite name. “It’s embarrassing, really.”

“Nah.” Noct against the doorjamb of the bathroom. “I don’t know why you’re embarrassed about this.”

“It’s improper, Noct.”

“It’s your body.” Noct shrugs. “Who cares what you’ve got on? You’re still doing the job in the same way. The best way,” he adds, and he can’t help the blush that rises back to his cheeks at the words. Gods, is he really complimenting Ignis right after barging in on him in the bath?

Fuck, Ignis is naked right now, isn’t he?

They haven’t gotten too far yet. This is still new territory for both of them, and Noct’s afraid that anything going wrong here could jeopardize everything that they are to each other.

Ignis doesn’t seem to have any such qualms. He lifts his hand - gods, look at those nails - and makes a vague wave over to him. “You can come over here, you know.”

Noct raises an eyebrow and hopes that the expression masks how much his heart begins racing. “You’re sure?”

Ignis blinks at him slowly, tilting his head to the side to study Noctis. His eyes look darker green than usual, or maybe that’s just the lighting. “I’m sure,” he says. “You’ve already gotten this far.”

Noct almost wishes that there had been an intruder. It would be easier than this. It would be easier than a lot of things that have to do with Ignis, and Ignis in the bath, and Ignis in the bath with his nails painted. It would be easier than being faced with every godsdamned reason why he finally decided to ask Ignis if they could start dating. He can already see half his fantasies playing out like a movie behind his eyes, reminding him of every way that he wants Ignis, and more.

The soft rug beside the tub is a welcome feeling beneath his knees, because by the gods, he drops like a rock beside Ignis.

Ignis smiles at him, radiant and soft. “Welcome home,” he murmurs, and that’s no fucking help.

Noctis returns the grin, hoping that he’s not too red in the face. “Good to be home.” That’s good. Good answer. In control.

But up close, he can smell whatever soap it is that is undeniably Ignis. The scent of it reminds him of just how wonderful it is to bury his face in the crook of Ignis’s neck and experience every bit of him, and that’s not helping at all. Thankfully - thankfully? - the shower curtain is drawn enough that it obscures the view of anything too far down in the tub, and the bathwater itself is thick with suds and color. And Ignis. He’s there too. In the bath. Next to Noct.

Gods, he’s in way over his head.

To distract himself, he reaches for the hand that’s still resting on the edge of the bathtub, lifting it up carefully. Ignis lets him without a word of protest, so Noct takes the opportunity to really look at the varnish up close. It’s pleasantly iridescent up close, subtle and elegant while still retaining an air of beauty. Dark purple - wine, coeurl print, the spines of some of Ignis’s favorite books - fits him well. On Ignis, on his fingers, this is dangerous. Noct has always loved Ignis’s hands, capable and deft and deadly.

“I like the color,” Noct tells him. And then, before he can stop himself, he blurts, “You always look good in purple.”

The corners of Ignis’s mouth lift up in a tiny, pleased smile. “Thank you, Noct. I’m glad you think so.”

“Maybe…” He’s pushing his luck, but he’s already here, and he might as well. “Maybe you could try black next time?”

Ignis chuckles. “A bit unsubtle, don’t you think?”

“Well.” Noct lifts the hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the knuckles there. He raises his eyes to meet Ignis’s gaze, unblinking. “It’s my color.”

“Do I look good in black too?” Ignis teases.

“Fishing for compliments, are we?”

“I believe I’m owed a few, after the scare you gave me.”

“Okay. Yeah. Valid. Don’t tell anyone I did that.”

“It’s endearing. Very valiant.”

“Don’t call me valiant.”

“As my prince commands,” Ignis teases, and Noct can’t help but smile. Ignis tugs his hand out of Noct’s grip, studying him quietly for a moment. “I was planning on making something with rice tonight,” he muses. “And after that…you could stay, if you’d like.”

“Stay?”

One of Ignis’s legs shifts in the water, sending ripples of water up to lap at Ignis’s chest. Noct swallows. He’s not going to look. He’s not going to look.

Fuck.

Ignis smiles. “I’d certainly welcome your company.”

Noct breathes out through his nose, controlling himself as much as he can manage. “Will you keep the gloves off?”

Another smile, pleased and soft. “If you’d like. Certainly.”

“One more question, Specs.”

“Better hurry. The bathwater won’t stay warm forever.”

Noct grins. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Ignis breathes, and he reaches out to catch Noct at the back of his neck, digging his fingers into the soft skin there as he pulls him close. Noct shivers; he can almost imagine that he can feel the layer of polish there, and he leans in to close the distance between them.

It really is going to be a good night.

[bapdirt]

Banglo Blood

Here’s a half-formed idea I’ve had since last Halloween and couldn’t get out of my head since I saw this prompt.

In the mountains past the tea fields, Yongguk comes across a half-breed with a mouth full of blood, his new set of teeth barely pulling over his human ones, and a dead boy lying in his arms with his eyes pointing towards the dreary sky.

Yongguk went to see the old woman who lived at the base of the mountain as he did at least once a week, just to check up on her, but she hadn’t been home when he heard someone feeding; bones breaking and flesh ripping.

“I was hungry.”

“Clean up your mess,” Yongguk orders, keeps walking, “then disappear.”

///

His shoes sink into the soil between the rows of tea leaves, the fog thick and silencing as he makes his way back to the city. Neither of them have bothered to speak since Junhong started trailing him from a handful of yards away, dragging his feet.

“You can’t follow me back to the city,” he says without turning around.

The footsteps behind him falter then speed up to get closer.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” the guy mumbles, voice cracking from disuse.

Yongguk faces him, eyeing the mess of his face and clothes. His entire mouth stained red, the bite mark the left side of neck caked with days old blood, and his white clothes and sneakers dirtied. He’s a head or two taller than Yongguk, but he could easily break his neck.

“What happened to your family?”

“My mom and brother died, they couldn’t handle the turn.”

“Father?”

He curls back into himself, eyes drifting past Yongguk’s face. A group of birds startles and flies away from the barren trees around them. He’s younger than Yongguk initially thought.

“I killed him. He’s the one that bit all of us,” he answers, pressing his lips together afterward.

Yongguk stares at him, assessing the risks.

“My name is Junhong,” he provides, licking his sticky lips.

Yongguk nods and keeps walking forward, expecting Junhong to follow.

He does.

//

He leads them to a nearby stream and beckons Junhong over. The thin silk scarf Himchan called an accessory will have to do for now, he just wants to freshen him up before taking him back.

“C’mere. I want to clean the blood off of your face,” Yongguk looks at the swollen bite on his neck, “and the wound.”

Junhong kneels in the dirt beside him and stills, waiting. Yongguk dips the end of the material in the stream and wipes gently around his mouth, scrubbing where it’s dried up. Vampires aren’t always good looking, their genetics vary just as much as a human being, but Yongguk’s face is round, mouth pinched in concentration and his eyes bored. Handsome.

“Are all vampires as serious as you, hyung?” He asks, turning his face away when the scrubbing gets too thorough.

Yongguk dips another section of the scarf in the stream, sticks and debris floating along, and tries not to smile.

“You haven’t met any other vampires?”

“No, not really. Not many travel this way,” Junhong shrugs.

Yongguk gets a strong and sudden hold on his jaw, forcing him to bare his neck. It’ll sting, trying to get off all the crusted blood and mottled skin, he really doesn’t want Junhong trying to bite at him.

“What’re you doing?” He whimpers as nails dig into his cheeks.

There are factions trying to ruin the throne now that his family has given power over to the Kim sector. They wouldn’t kill Junhong for being a half-breed, it’s more likely they’d capture and torture him, experiment on his body. It still isn’t known why some people never fully turn, maybe a mutation on their makers part or their human genetics, but half-breeds are usually violent when hungry, can’t tell the difference between needing blood or wanting food.

Yongguk hasn’t done more than chop their heads off.

“I promise this won’t hurt more than when you got bit.”

He’ll bring Junhong back to the city and let Himchan decide whether he wants Yongguk to execute him or not. He hasn’t made his own decisions on law for years, a decade at least.

Yongguk lets him scream, echoing in the clearing and startling small animals, clawing at Yongguk’s arm and begging him to stop with the whites of his eyes showing.

All he knows is that Junhong reminds him of the snow white rabbit he hunted down. It let out a high-pitched growl right before Yongguk ripped its throat out.

“Shush, Junhong, it’s alright.”

He really wished he didn’t have to kill it.

//

Junhong holds onto the back of his suit jacket to keep walking sometime around midnight. His stomach gurgling and his knees weak.

“Hyung, ‘m hungry.”

“Wait until we get to the city, I’ll feed you then.”

//

“You never told me your name, hyung.”

He scrubbed Junhong’s face, thoroughly cleaned and disinfected the wound on his neck, and now he lets him sit in the wide bathtub filled with epsom salt and hot water while he talks about his home from before.

They lived on the other side of the tea fields in a tiny farm in a tiny two story house. Junseo wasn’t even twenty-five yet and he was planning to move to the city.

His father had gone to check on the horses and hadn’t come back until nightfall, bloodshot eyes and part of his throat torn to shreds.

“My name is Yongguk,” he tells him, wringing a washcloth out in the bucket beside the bath.

His mother got bit first, then his brother when he had come running downstairs when he heard her scream. Junhong got his right before he sank the biggest knife in the kitchen through his father’s heart.

“Yongguk, Yongguk-hyung. That’s different,” Junhong smiles, lifts one long, pale arm for him.

He’s scrubbed most of the dead skin away, leaving nothing but the porcelain skin Junhong will live with from now on. Reborn. The process is disgusting, shedding like a snake, but has to be done before the human layer causes rot.

Junhong’s old skin is floating in the water around him, slowly dissolving, and he’s surprisingly calm about it; humming an old tune.

His mother and brother burned up from the fever. It was his brother he was draining when Yongguk found him.

//

“You did what,” Himchan hisses, standing up from behind his desk.

Jongup looks out the window and tries to mind his business. He really wishes Daehyun or Youngjae weren’t out so they could make light of the situation.

“I brought a half-breed home. He’s docile.”

It’s another cloudy day. Yongguk just wanted to report and then go back home, back to sleep. Junhong made him eggs this morning. The eggs were outdated but he’s not sure those things ever spoil.

“For now, Yongguk-ah. Those things are dangerous,” Himchan exasperates, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“They can be. He hasn’t tried to kill me or anyone else. Yet,” he brushes it off.

“I swear, Yongnam should have eaten you in the womb.”

“Sometimes I wish that, too.”

He and Himchan were born vampires, Yongguk’s been suffering for centuries and doesn’t understand why Himchan loves living for so long.

“Jongup was half-breed, too, before you let him feed from you.”

Jongup snickers, intrigued by the entire situation. Himchan found him ten years ago, surrounded by the decapitated bodies of his men, good people, but they both know vampires have to die at some point. Jongup went without a fight when Himchan and Yongguk picked him up, falling asleep in the main office while they registered him in the system.

The closest thing Yongguk has to family is Himchan, Jongup, Daehyun, and Youngjae. His actual family is spread across the continents doing whatever they please, tired of running an empire of blood suckers in Korea and leaving it to the Kim’s.

“Jongup didn’t eat his brother,” Himchan is almost yelling.

“Jongup didn’t have any brothers left to eat.”

Yongguk leaves them with that.

//

“He’s so rude,” Himchan scoffs, slapping a folder down onto his desk.

Jongup smiles. Yongguk is a blunt guy but he knows when it’s too soon for something.

“It’s been ten years, hyung. My brothers are long dead.”

Himchan fumes like a child in his chair, shooting Jongup a disapproving glare. He’s supposed to be on his side, not Yongguk’s.

“Besides, that was a good one.”

“Still, I’d like to see this runt he’s so eager to run back home to.”

///

Junhong is rummaging through his fridge again when Yongguk makes it back home. There’s a few empty bags of O-positive sitting in the trash can, Yongguk’s favorite, but he doesn’t scold him.

“You’re gonna be insatiable for a couple years. Until you can control yourself,” he mutters, sliding his finger across the marble countertop in the kitchen, his finger stained crimson.

“It’s not enough, hyung,” Junhong croaks, turning away from the fridge to fix him with searching eyes and show his blood-smudged mouth.

Yongguk gives him a sympathetic smile. Junhong rugs at the too short t-shirt he’s wearing, belly button peeking out, and sways from foot to foot nervously. Afraid to ask for more, too modest, but unable to fight the need to feed.

He could—should let Junhong drink from him and turn him completely. It’s a 50/50 chance that he’ll survive another turn when he was already lucky the first time. If he doesn’t turn him he’ll have to find a way to keep Junhong on a leash, hide him away from Himchan until he’s presentable, and keep his favorite blood type on hand, but they’ve got a similar taste for the rare.

Junhong bites at his nails while he waits for Yongguk to make some sort of decision, shying away from the sunlit kitchen island with a pinched look.

He’ll do fine.

“I’ll be back,” he says.

“Where’re you going?”

“We’ve both got to feed and you just drained lunch,” Yongguk sighs.

Junhong apologizes softly and follows after him to the door, right on his tail.

“Stay here, you can’t go out yet.”

He pouts and pulls at the hem of shirt, yet he doesn’t complain. Junhong’ll stay half-human as long as Yongguk can help it, wants to keep that part of him intact.

He takes one last look at Junhong’s face before he shuts the door.

“Come back soon, hyung.”

[princessofthedarkrealm]

Stroke of Midnight- Chapter 7 (Pennywise x reader)

(((contains mild smut)))

Riiing! Riiing!

You groaned and rolled over on your stomach.

Riiing!

Your head snapped up. It was full daylight. On a Monday. You jumped out of bed naked to answer the phone and cried out when you stubbed your toe on the foot of the bed. Pennywise was asleep, laying on his back. One arm was hanging over the side and his mouth was hanging open, his chin covered in drool. You hobbled over to the phone and grabbed it on the sixth ring.

"Hello."

"Y/N?" It was Mrs. Stout.

You put your hand on your forehead and sank to the floor. Your little toe was throbbing. "Mrs. Stout, I am so sorry."

"And why aren't you at work, missy?" Mrs. Stout replied tartly.

"I forgot to call you yesterday. I was in an accident."

"An accident? Good gracious."

"Oh I'm ok," you said quickly. "It was a bike accident. I just got kind of banged up." In more ways than one, you thought.

"Well stay home and get some rest. No need to overexert yourself. You should be back tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, then crossed your legs and let yourself droop. You heard Pennywise get out of bed.

"I stubbed my toe, Penny." You sighed. "One of the few parts of my body that doesn't hurt right now."

Pennywise patted you on the head. "My poor clumsy kitten," he said in a mocking tone.

"It wasn't clumsiness that made me fall into the ravine," you said hotly.

Pennywise made some whining noises. He crouched down behind you. "You're awfully grumpy this morning," he said.

"I ache everywhere," you replied.

"And what do humans like to do to help their pain?" he asked.

You thought for a minute. "I know a good hot shower usually helps. Or a bath."

Pennywise giggled and his face lit up. He put his face right next to your ear. "Why don't you take a bath, kitten?" he whispered in a sultry tone. "Or I can give you one."

You tucked some hair behind your ear and glanced at Pennywise skeptically. "You want to give me a bath?"

He giggled again. "Why not?"

You started thinking of the mess he would make. He would have water everywhere.

"But you would get all wet," you pointed out.

His hands snaked under your arms from behind and he placed them on your bare breasts. "You did not complain last night, my dear."

"Yeah but that was just a couple of your fing-  whoa!" you exclaimed as he hoisted you to your feet.

“Get yourself going. I want to make you nice and wet.” Pennywise gave you a gentle push forward than slapped you on the ass causing you to jump. You blushed.

“This is going to be interesting,” you mumbled as you walked down the hallway. You didn’t even bother to put a robe on. You still felt awkward about Pennywise seeing you naked, and even though you hadn’t actually had sex, he had still been intimate with your body in a way that no one else ever had. You put your bath water running, then went to the kitchen to get some pain medicine. The curtains over the sink were open, so you quickly closed them. You fixed a glass of water, then took some pain meds. You rolled your shoulder, which was starting to feel stiff. What you really needed was to massage it.

You went back to the bathroom and stopped short when you got in the doorway. Pennywise was sitting on the toilet with the lid down. He had one arm bent with his elbow resting on his leg and his chin on his knuckles. He was like a satirical version of the Thinker. Your face lit up in a grin.

He glanced over at you and stood. You walked into the bathroom and he met you in the middle of the room. His eyes roved up and down your body. You worried your lip as you started feeling self-conscious. Suddenly the room started feeling very warm.

Pennywise’s hand came up to touch your hair. He lifted a piece of it. “One day I will undress you from head to toe,” he said.

You smiled bashfully and lowered your gaze. “Maybe so.”

He gestured towards the tub. Steam was rising from the water. You turned off the faucet and bent to feel the water. It was hot, but not unbearably. You took the Band-Aid off of your leg. The cut had almost completely healed itself. You sighed as you climbed in the tub. “Hmm this feels so good.” You sloshed the water over your legs.

“I like to wash my hair first.” You got the cup and started rinsing your hair. Pennywise lifted a piece of it.

“It would look so lovely floating around you.” His voice was almost a growl.

You paused and slowly glanced at him.  His yellow eyes stared right at your face and his lips were pursed. You found it a bit unsettling. “F-floating? You mean like… in a pool?”

His visage changed to a more happy one. He giggled. “Of course in a pool,” he said in a giddy voice.

You kept rinsing. “There is a public pool here. I actually enjoy swimming.”

Pennywise nodded. “Well then we’ll go there.”

You laughed. “Pennywise, we would have to go at night. And it’s closed at night.”

He put his hand on your knee. “If you want to swim, we will swim.”

You sighed. You wanted so badly to be able to bring him out in public. How could you get him to understand that that just was not possible? “We’ll see.”

You finished rinsing your hair and started lathering it. Pennywise started bouncing, his mouth in a grin.

He giggled. “I wanna do it.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Um…okay.”

You turned sideways in the tub with your back to him. Pennywise took off his gloves and placed them on the toilet lid. He continued lathering your hair.

“So, tell me about your life,” he said.

You told him about how you worked at the library. You told him about your cousins and about Henry Bowers and his gang of goons. “They’re constantly terrorizing my cousin and his friends,” you said.

Your head bobbed around as Pennywise lathered it. You winced every time he touched the tender spot in the back.

“Henry and Patrick are the two worse though.”

“Hmm,” was all Pennywise said.

“Yesterday, they had some poor kid cornered on Lovers’ Bridge. Henry had his knife out. I could hear the poor kid hollering. God only knows what Henry was doing to him.”

When Pennywise was finished, you turned back straight in the tub, rinsed your hair out, and started soaping a rag. You washed your face first, then your back. Pennywise started rubbing your back. You continued soaping yourself. He placed his hand over yours and leaned into you.

"Le-t me."

He grabbed the rag from you and crouched down. He started with your stomach, dragging the rag slowly across your abdomen. He then ran it along your breasts, giving special focus to each one. You closed your eyes and leaned back.

Pennywise roughly planted his lips on yours. You returned the kiss with fervor. You felt him drag the rag back down, way down until he reached your pussy. He gently rubbed back and forth, delving into your slick folds. You moaned against his lips. Pennywise pushed the rag aside and brought his hand back to your clit. He started stroking it, faster this time.

You leaned back farther, his other hand on your back, supporting you. He brought his lips down to your chin, then your collarbone. Leaving a trail of kisses as he rubbed you frantically. Water splashed in the tub.

"Oh, Penny," you moaned.

His mouth latched onto your breast and you threw your head back as he suckled on you. The feeling of the water lapping at your thighs just added to your arousal.

It didn't take long for you to reach your peak, and when you did, you cried out, moaning and gasping. When your orgasm subsided, he removed his hand. The cuff of his sleeve was dripping wet.

Pennywise’s mischievous grin returned. "Such a good girl. Don’t take too long, kit-ten.” He kissed the tip of your nose and left the bathroom.

Your heart was pounding as you laid back limply in the bathtub. What in the hell had you gotten yourself into?

***********

You decided to wrap yourself in a towel to walk to your room. Pennywise was looking at your drawing portfolio.

“Oh good. I had been wanting to show those to you,” you commented.

“My little princess draws well,” he said.

“Well I wouldn’t really say that,” you said as you scampered about your room searching for fresh clothes. You decided on a pale peach shirt and navy cotton shorts.

“What is this one about?” Pennywise asked.

You went to see the drawing that he was holding out to you, your towel still wrapped around you. It was a pencil color and ink drawing of a man and a woman reaching out to each other. The man was wearing yellow and white robes and his hair was made of flames. The sun was behind him to his left. The woman was wearing a long flowing black dress etched in silver. Her raven black hair streamed out behind her. The moon was behind her to the right.

“That’s the sun and the moon,” you stated. “They fell in love, but they can’t be together.”

Pennywise frowned. “Why not?”

“Well… because he represents light and she represents dark. Neither can exist in the sky at the same time. It’s a mythological story about why we have day and night.”

Pennywise tilted his head to the side. “And in your play, do you find someone that you can be with?”

You nodded. “Of course. After her step sisters attack her, they leave for the ball. Cinderella’s fairy godmother shows up and turns her torn dress into a beautiful gown. Then she turns a pumpkin into a coach to take Cinderella to the ball.” You explained to him the rest of the story of Cinderella.

“So her and her prince get to be together?”

“Yes.”

“Because of her fairy godmother’s magic?”

“Hmm… yeah I guess so. I don’t think Cinderella would have been able to meet him without it.”

Pennywise stepped closer to you. “Do you want me to go to your play?”

You didn’t know what to say. “Well, I would like you to. I don’t know how that would be possible though.”

He leaned forward and grabbed your shoulders. “If I could go, would you want me to?”

You didn’t say anything at first. But finally you decided. “Yes.”

Pennywise giggled. He clapped his hands. “Then your wish shall be granted, princess.”

You gave Pennywise a tiny smile, but you sighed inwardly. There is no way this is going to work, you thought. You leaned against his firm chest. “I do wish that. More than anything.”

@destiel-lover321  @hello-helianthus  @queenylime  @honk-honk-bitches  @fuck-the-clown  @wtf-it  @hoe-for-daddywise  @dallonweaksme  @floatingwithpennywise

[daddyxxstyles]

Damaged Goods - Part 2

Hello everyone! After almost sic months, this is part two to Damaged Goods. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think of it, my lovely readers! :)

4,2k words. Warning: contains smut*

*And for the smut I apologize. First time writing it, so sorry if it’s lame. 

‘Can I stay tonight?’ he asked with a deep voice and you felt goosebumps rise all over your skin. You both knew he didn’t have to ask for permission to stay. He has already stayed at your place multiple times; when you were watching movies until very late and he was too sleepy to drive. He stayed to make sure you were fine when you were sick or came back after a girls night out with your best friends. He stayed after a phone call from you in the middle of the night when you woke up from a terrible nightmare. But this time, this question was different. His eyes were dark and you were positive he was up to something.  

‘Of course… You can always stay here, Harry, you don’t need to ask.’ you answered and kissed his chest through the fabric of his plain white t-shirt.

 ‘Yeh know.. I have an idea.’ he said taking off his t-shirt. Seeing your confused face, he continued. ‘Yeh said yeh don’t feel comfortable with your uncovered body, so I’m thinking, would yeh feel better if I were naked, too?’ while speaking, he didn’t stop stripping his clothes off until he stood in front of you almost naked, only in his Calvin Klein black boxers.

 ‘This is crazy, you know that?’ you said chuckling with disbelief, trying to cover your stomach with your arms.

 ‘I am crazy. F’you.’ he said giving you a quick peck on your lips. He took both his and your clothes from the floor and headed towards the door. ‘’m hungry. Want some pasta?’ he asked on his way out.

 You faced the mirror and looked at your face. It was still covered with mascara residue so you took care of it with a cotton ball soaked with makeup remover. You splashed your face with cold water and wiped it with a soft towel. You sighed deeply and sat down on the edge of a bathtub. You felt like Harry was up to something but he obviously wouldn’t tell you that. You knew that sparkle in his eyes. You’ve seen it a couple of times already, usually after a very snugly make out session on his couch, just before you pushed him away and left his apartment in panic. The excruciating fear of being hurt again, blocked you completely every time Harry wanted more. Anytime he managed to touch your bare skin under your clothes, you could remember how your ex boyfriend humiliated you whenever he got you naked.

 You took a deep breath, trying to push all the bad memories away. You knew Harry was different. He deserved more. He deserved everything you could give him.

You left the bathroom, tip toeing to the kitchen. Now you realised how long it took you in the bathroom - a pleasant smell of Bolognese sauce filled the room. Harry liked to cook with loud music on - he plugged his iPhone to the speakers and put your iTunes playlist on shuffle. Sweet Child O’Mine was pumping loudly from the speakers and Harry was singing along. He rarely did this but he knew how much you like to hear his voice in a rockier version. He didn’t notice you entering the kitchen, as he was preoccupied with filling up a pot with water. His face was focused, eyebrows furrowed. Once he lifted the pot full of water, his muscles tensed and the outline of this trained body was more visible. You bit your lip as it was the first time when you saw Harry almost completely naked. It was the first time you saw all of his tattoos. That sight pleased you very much. You stared at him, forgetting you were wearing just black lace underwear.

 ‘Here yeh are, pet’ he smiled widely when he turned into your direction and finally saw you.

 ‘Don’t stop singing, Harry’ you said and sat down on a barstool just in front of him, on the other side of a counter.

 ‘Oooooh, sweet child o’mineeee!’ he sang, pretending to play the guitar solo.

 You supported your head on your fists and observed him. He loved to perform. Either on a stage in front of thousands of people or in your tiny kitchen. This boy was born to entertain people, you were quite sure of that.

Sweet Child O’Mine came to an end and the next song chosen by Harry was Little Things. It surprised you because he never chose to play One Direction songs. And the song choice made you wonder even more.

 He cleared his throat during the instrumental and started singing with Zayn on the recorded audio:

 Your hand fits in mine Like it’s made just for me But bear this in mind It was meant to be And I’m joining up the dots With the freckles on your cheeks And it all makes sense to me

When you heard his voice, you smiled. It was so soothing and calming as always. He was chopping fresh pineapple, your favourite fruit, but he glanced at you every couple of seconds. Now he continued along with Liam:

I know you’ve never loved The crinkles by your eyes When you smile You’ve never loved Your stomach or your thighs The dimples in your back At the bottom of your spine But I’ll love them endlessly

During chorus he closed his eyes and got carried away completely.

I won’t let these little things Slip out of my mouth But if I do It’s you Oh it’s you They add up to you I’m in love with you And all these little things

During Louis’ part, the tension was building up. He put the knife away and not losing eye contact with you, he walked around the counter and stood up in front of you, turning you around on the barstool. He licked his fingers off from the pineapple juice, missing some words. He put his warm hands on your thighs, touching them gently.

You can't go to bed Without a cup of tea And maybe that’s the reason That you talk in your sleep And all those conversations Are the secrets that I keep Though it makes no sense to me

Still not breaking the eye contact with you, he sang  the following parts.

I know you’ve never loved the sound of your voice on tape You never want to know how much you weigh You still loathe to squeeze into your jeans But you’re perfect to me 

I won’t let these little things Slip out of my mouth But if it’s true It’s you It’s you They add up to I’m in love with you And all these little things

And then there was Niall’s part and in a second you reminded what were the lyrics. You felt a sudden rush of blood to your head and the whole world around you started spinning slightly.

You’ll never love yourself Half as much as I love you You’ll never treat yourself right darlin’ But I want you to If I let you know I’m here for you Maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you Ooh

Your heart was beating fast and tears of affection formed up in your eyes. You put your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you. He put his forehead to yours and continued to sing his part:

I’ve just let these little things Slip out of my mouth 'cause it’s you Oh it’s you It’s you They add up to And I’m in love with you And all these little things

You couldn’t wait any longer. You crashed your lips against his and you conjoined in a passionate kiss. His lips were soft and warm, and tasted like sweet pineapple.

When he moved back, he wiped your tears away.

‘Wha’s wrong, love?’ he asked concerned.

‘It was a really good performance, Harry. I really enjoyed that.’ you said. He took air in, wanting to say something but you continued. ‘You better watch that sauce on the stove…’.

He returned to the pot and you stood up to prepare the table. Your thoughts were confused as you had no idea how to interpret his performance. Neither of you said the L word, but you were quite sure that the feelings you’ve had for him could be called love. You felt uncomfortable when he wasn’t around but once he was next to you, you were the calmest person in the world. You felt butterflies in your stomach whenever someone mentioned him, his warm chest echoing the sound of his beating heart was your favourite place to fall asleep.

But could that be true? Should you interpret this as he meant it? Is Harry in love with you?

You sat down to a quiet dinner. Harry went on about what he was doing the whole day. You weren’t quite talkative but you listened carefully to what he was saying. He easily noticed when you were in that kind of mood where you weren’t able to talk much. Then he took over control and took that pressure off of you.

After the dinner you moved to the couch to watch some TV. Harry sat down, resting his long legs on the coffee table, letting you lay down on his lap. His hand automatically went to caress your hair. He was browsing through the channels to find something funny to watch but you paid no attention to what was on the screen. You were thinking of that song, you were thinking of the words, you were trying to figure out what was on his mind. You were thinking, if he sang that song just because or if it was his way of telling you he loves you? You were terrified to ask because if you over interpreted his agenda, then you wouldn’t bear being hurt again.

‘Harry? Can you be the big spoon for a moment? I’m getting cold.’ you said looking up at him.

‘Sure…’ you switched positions and he wrapped his warm arm around you. The warmth of his body relaxed you as your thoughts were a mess.

After a while you forgot you were completely naked but Harry didn’t. Your female parts were only covered by black lace underwear and he really tried his best to contain himself. But then, he moved his hand on your body, giving you clear hints what was on his mind. He softly started to kiss your neck, nibbling on your earlobe. You knew what was coming. Another panic attack and Harry’s disappointment. You disengaged from his body and quickly escaped to the bathroom hearing his sigh.

You were standing under the shower, hot water streaming down your body. You’ve panicked again and some alone time in a steamy shower was the only thing that could calm your wrecked nerves again. You knew this would eventually happen but you were blindly fooling yourself that Harry will never want to make you do that or will wait until you’re ready. But you were happy with the current state of things. You could always count on him in times of need, even when he was touring he would always figure out how to make you feel better.

Obviously you fancied his body, you craved his touch and wanted you be kissed by him in your most private places but your previous relationship made it terribly hard for you to completely give in again.

‘Darling?’ you’ve heard Harry’s voice in the bathroom.

‘Yes?’ you looked around afraid of him seeing you but there was so much steam that the shower walls were completely blurry.

‘Jus’ wanted to say m‘sorry, pet, didn’t want to make yeh feel uncomfortable.’ he said, remorse in his voice was painfully audible.

‘I know Harry… ‘ you answered and took a deep breath.

‘Do it… do it now… He wants this… And you want this too.’ you thought. The struggle in your head made you feel a bit dizzy as you were torn between wanting him badly and being too scared.  

‘Harry?’ you asked quietly.

‘Yes, pet?’ he answered.

‘Can you come inside? Can you join me?’ your voice was shaking when you verbalised your request.

‘ y’sure?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ you answered firmly.

A few seconds passed and he entered the shower completely naked. You involuntarily glanced at the lower part of his body and seeing how well equipped he is, a little smirk appeared in the corner of your mouth.

‘I have eyes up here, love.’ he said smirking.

‘Sorry.’ you said blushing.

He moved closer until he could wrap his arms around you. His skin was cold and it nicely contrasted when your warmed up breasts met with his cold chest. He held you close, kissing the top of your head.

‘I wanna kiss your body, I wanna lick your pussy and then I want to fuck this little cunt  until you scream my name and beg me to stop… But m’gonna wait. As long as it takes, because I know you’re worth it.’ he said quietly to your ear, almost whispering. You’ve never heard him dirty talk and you were quite sure the wetness between your legs wasn’t caused only by the shower.

‘Thank you… It really means a lot.’ you said and kissed his collarbone.

‘It’s okay, little girl. You need to be protected. And you’re safe with me.’ he kissed your forehead. You snuggled into his arms and he pulled you in close. The moment was very intimate; you felt like your relationship with Harry reached another level. The fact that you took off your clothes in front of him was a milestone for you but his declaration from earlier, made your heart swell. 

He reached for your favourite flowery shower gel. ‘Can I…?’ he asked, pouring a fair amount of the gel on his hand. You nodded but your heart jumped to your throat. No one besides your previous boyfriend ever touched you like that. You were scared and petrified. But it’s Harry, your Harry, you thought, he could never hurt you.

His touch was gentle and delicate. He started with your arms, shoulders and then moved down his hands to your breasts. He hesitated for a moment and moved his hands further, covering your whole body with soap. Very proud of his achievement, he massaged your scalp with shampoo, making even more foam.

‘Yeh look like a lil’ snowman’ he chuckled and kissed your lips.

‘I do not!’ you laughed and stepped under the stream of water.

‘Nooooo, yeh destroyed m’work of art!’ he pouted but you felt his eyes staring at you.

‘Shhh... ‘ you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him.

‘Fair enough… But next time yeh gonna pay f’this.’ he said with a warning tone. He pulled you in, your bodies touching one another. You put your arms around his neck, what made you stand on your toes. His hands wandered on your wet back, when they reached their final destination - your bum. He placed both of his hands on your butt cheeks and squeezed them lightly. A quiet sigh left your lips right into his ear.

You left the shower, wrapped yourself with a towel and started brushing your teeth. Harry followed you a few moments later. His spare toothbrush was placed right next to yours. He grabbed it and stood right next to you also in a towel. You examined the reflection of his chest in the mirror. You looked at every tattoo on his body and wondered about the history behind it.

‘A butterfly? Really?’ you asked with a chuckle when you rinsed the inside of your mouth.

‘Yeah, and I love it.’ he smiled proud, his mouth still full of toothpaste.

‘Idiot’ you shook your head with a smile and left the bathroom.

You entered your closet and searched for fresh laundry. You were specifically looking for a Harry’s t-shirt. You loved wearing them, they felt so comfortable and although you washed it multiple times, you could still feel his scent on them. You put on his Hot n’ hard t-shirt and matched it with black panties. The t-shirt was long enough to cover your bum so you felt like there was no need to put on shorts.

 ‘Yeh have that t-shirt! Thought it was Niall who took it from me and he didn’t want to admit that he misses me this much. Hmm.’ he grabbed a fresh pair of boxers from the laundry box and dropped the towel right in front of you.

 His cock beautiful. Suddenly, you felt the urge to touch it, to make him feel good, to make him moan your name, to make it up to him. He noticed you were staring, again. You turned away embarrassed, and went to bed quickly.

 ‘I bought new candles today, wanna try them out?’ he asked, trying to change the subject.

 ‘Yeah, why not.’ you answered and waited for him to set up the candles around your bedroom.

 ‘Vanilla snowflake, tha’ should be nice.’ he said and laid down next to you.

 When you looked at him, he was laying on his left side, supporting his head with his left arm bent in the elbow. He was looking at you like you were some holy figure, a soft smile curved his lips showing his dimples. He reached his hand to your thigh and touched it. He caressed it, gently moving his thumb over your stretch marks covering the skin on your thigh. Again, you felt uncomfortable and Harry sensed it immediately.

 ‘Shh… Relax. I just want to give you some sweet cuddles…’ he said, laying kisses along your thigh.

 ‘Then kiss me.’ you said missing his warm lips badly.

 He didn’t have to be told twice. He kneeled between your legs and supporting himself on his arms, he hovered over you. His endearing smile melted your heart. You could never resist to that angelic face, those cute dimples. You cupped his face and moved it to your lips. You felt a soft peck on your mouth, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he took your lower lip and started sucking on it. Automatically, your hands went to grab and touch his muscled back. When a quiet sigh left your half opened lips, Harry forced his tongue into your mouth. But you didn’t resist even a second. You joined him in the most passionate kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone. It was so deep, you started losing your breath. You pushed him away lightly so he moved his lips over your jaw to your neck. You took in a deep breath, feeling soft sucking and nibbling on your neck. He touched your thighs and moved his hands up across your hips, to your waist. He wanted to kiss down your neck and move his hands upwards, but the t-shirt you were wearing seemed too much of an obstacle for him. When he pushed back, he looked at your tiny posture just in front of him and he noticed that the KISS t-shirt was soaking wet at the front because of your wet hair. The t-shirt was white which made your nipples visible.

 ‘Fuuuuuuck…’ he said wiping his face.

 ‘What’s the matter, Harry?’ you asked concerned. He took a deep breath and took his time to answer.

 ‘Why are yeh so incredibly hot?’ he asked with a bit of anger in his voice. His face was tensed and you could see a pinch of pain in it too. ‘You’re making it impossible to stop…’ he sighed.

 ‘Then don’t.’ your heart was pounding in your chest. His face immediately relaxed. ‘I’m scared like hell but I want you Harry. Very much. I need you.’ you said and touched his face with a trembling hand.

 ‘Are you sure?’ he double-checked.

 ‘Yes, I am.’

 He helped you take off the t-shirt and he froze still, capturing your body.

 ‘Don’t look at my stomach, please.’ you said covering it with your hands.

 ‘Stop, it’s beautiful.’ he took your hands away and started kissing it.

 He touched your chilled skin from the wet t-shirt and reached for the breasts. His touch was very delicate and warm. You relaxed immediately and forgot about everything when you felt his lips lowering to your entrance.

 ‘M’gonna make yeh feel good, promise.’ he said hooking his fingers on your panties. He took them off and threw them to the floor. He parted your thighs and looking straight into your eyes he licked his thumb and put it to your clit. ‘You’re so wet fo’ me already…’ he sighed and started rubbing his thumb faster. You bit your lower lip and gulped for air when his thumb started moving frantically. When you felt it was close, Harry ceased any movement. He looked at you, cherishing the way you looked. He pushed two fingers inside you, making you squirm under his touch. He moved his fingers easily thanks to the wetness coming out of you. You heard him pant heavily, right before you heard his voice.

 ‘I need to taste yeh... ‘ he pulled out the fingers, licked them and buried his mouth between your legs.

 You felt his warm tongue enter you and then it licking all the way up to your clit. He sucked on it, licked circles, adding his fingers inside you. You grabbed his still wet hair and pulled them hard as the pleasure overwhelmed you. You arched your back letting out loud moans of pleasure. Pleasure so strong it made your body tremble.

 When he finally moved his face away, you were breathing heavily.

 ‘So that’s what an orgasm feels like…’ you said sighing deeply.

 ‘I barely even started with yeh.’ he answered with a chuckle and a smug smile appeared on Harry’s face.

 He leaned over you and started kissing you again. You forced him to roll over his back and you straddled him and pulled him in to embrace you. He kissed your neck again, touched your breasts and sucked on your nipples. You tossed your head back and feeling his bulge between your legs, you started moving your hips. He immediately let out a sigh of pleasure.

 ‘Yeh are so damn beautiful…’ he said laying you down on your back again.

 ‘Don’t forget about protection, it’s in the drawer.’ you gasped out as he touched your entrance again.

 He put the condom on skilfully and pressed his body to yours. He touched your face, kissed your lips and pressing his forehead to yours, he asked:

 ‘Yeh ready, darling?’

 ‘Yes.’ you answered, feeling a ticklish feeling at the bottom of your belly.

 He slowly entered himself inside of you, checking your reaction. He asked if everything is okay and if he can continue. The burning feeling of him stretching you out made you feel a little uncomfortable for a moment, but once he started to move his hips, the feeling went away. You wrapped your legs around his waist and put your hands to his back. He panted heavily to your ear, exhaling his hot breath against your skin. He stopped for a moment, tightening his eyelids.

 ‘Yeh so tight ‘round m’cock… Doing me too much good... ‘ he took a moment to calm himself down and then continued once again. He moved steadily, slowly increasing the tempo. ‘Come on, ‘lil girl… Come for meh…’ when you heard his low, raspy voice, you felt tingling in your belly. The tension was building up and you felt it was close.

 ‘I’m coming…’ you whispered into his ear.

 ‘Louder baby, wanna hear yeh…’ he said pounding into you fast.

 ‘I’m coming! Oh Harry!’ you moaned arching your back and curling your toes as the orgasm spread through your body. Your muscles tightened around him and you heard his groans of pleasure.

 He sank into your arms, both of you panting heavily. You kissed his cheek and buried your hand in his curls. You both enjoyed the intimacy of the moment, eyes closed, limbs entwined together. Harry put a blanket over your bodies to prevent you from getting cold.

 ‘Thank you for trusting me.’ he said, looking into your eyes. You were laying on your sides, staring into each other’s eyes.

 ‘Thank you for taking care of me…’ you said. ‘I was so terrified because my previous… Intercourses weren’t enjoyable at all. But you changed it. You changed everything… You turned my world upside down.’ you said, caressing his cheek and ear.

 ‘Pleasure is mine.’ he replied with a smile pulling you in closer.

 You felt so peaceful and relaxed. The room was dark but the few candles that Harry lit up earlier. You could feel his hand gently touching your skin all over your body. You were almost asleep when you heard his voice again.

 ‘Yeh know… Tha’ lil’ performance of mine from earlier… I meant it… I mean… I sang straight from m’heart… I love yeh…’he confessed, looking straight into your sleepy eyes. His thumb was stroking your cheek as he waited for any reply.

 ‘I love you too, Harry.’ you answered without hesitation, but you weren’t quite sure if this was happening for real or if it was just another dream.

 You hid your face in his chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. For the first time in your life you felt safe... and loved.

Did yeh like it, pet?