#rip to them but if I sparkled in the sun I’d one be very pleased and two figure out a good fucking lie

[seriesxwriting]

Private jet

Pairing- topper Thornton 🥰

Series- outer banks 💕

Summary- topper takes you on his private jet for the first time, heading to a surprise holiday for two weeks. Just you and him ;)).

Warnings- just kissing.

—

“And we are going where?” I smirked across at my boyfriend in the taxi abandoning my view from the window. It had just stopped outside his private jet and my eyes had hearts in them. “Not tell you… still” he laughed cheekily at my pout and then leant over to kiss my cheek. Topper got out the car closing the door gently and bounced over to one of the men. He looked so important with his glasses and business talk- it was hot.

I waited for a few moments in the taxi alone, watching their conversation and topper laugh his head off with whatever other man said. He eventually came round to my side opening the door wide for me and putting his hand out like the gentleman he was. “Why thank you kind sir” i fluttered my eye lashes at him putting on a fake posh voice. “You joker” he laughed pulling me closer to his body looking down into my sparkling eyes.

“Your eyes are so pretty, especially in the sun” he smirked because I already knew, I told him it practically daily. They where definitely my best feature. “And you call me the joker” my hands slid up to his neck pulling him down for a much needed kiss. Thirty minutes in the car was much too long for me. He smiled against my soft lips at first before going into to the heart beating kiss. I could feel his heart against my chest and still I wanted to be closer to him.

“Master Thornton, the jet is ready to go when you are” the man came over awkwardly. If there was any other reason someone was interrupting our make out session I’d be pissed. But I’d been looking forward to this for what felt like a life time. We both gazed over at the stairs mechanically lowering to the ground. Our luggage was being unloaded by some other man in a suit. “Ready?” Topper asked me glowing, whilst dangling his hand in the air for me to take it. I’d never been on his jet before, I was beyond excited.

But even more so to spend two weeks on holiday with my boyfriend getting him all alone. All to my self, with no interruption. “As I’ll ever be” I grinned my shiny white teeth and topper took my hand chuckling at my excitement. “Your so cute, all it takes is a jet to make you happy” “what do you mean all” I slapped his chest, quite softly if I admitted it. Topper wiggled his eyebrows knowingly. We both climbed the steps hand in hand and he lead me over to two opposite window seats.

There was a butler waiting for us to sit down and he automatically handed us menus which topper just shook his head too. “Just a coffee for me please” I took the menu nervously looking at my boyfriend. I wasn’t used to all this fancy treatment. I had been a pogue for most of my life. Though my dad had recently struck gold we where not extravagant with our money because we where used to pogue life. We where very charitable even though we where now kooks. Topper understood this and knew I felt pressure as the man stared at me waiting to order.

“You can come back, we need a minute” topper saved me. I felt the airplane jolt before suddenly moving forwards. Faster and faster. Untill we where soon in the air. I gazed out the window to take my mind off of ordering also being amazed with my first plane journey. The seat belt Sign disappeared making a loud noise ripping me back to reality. “Come here” topper ordered beckoning me with his hands. I undid my seat belt and walked the step it took me over to him.

He wrapped his hands around my waist pulling me down to his lap. “Get what you want” he put the menu in my hands. I felt comfortable and safe in his arms, I smiled at the boy and browsed the menu. “Can I have a pizza please” “of course baby girl you can have anything” he kissed my hand taking the menu from me and pressing the button that made a bell noise. The man rushed out the cabin behind and stopped by us. Topper ordered for me and added a coke on knowing me too well.

We were left alone again, which is how I liked it. “So what do you wanna do” he asked me pushing his legs up and down so I was practically flying. I shrugged putting my hand on his legs signalling to stop with a playful grin. “what is there to do” I wondered “we could watch a movie, play a game, make out?” “Hum… I’ve never made out with someone on a jet” I pretended to stroke my beard “shut up” topper laughed at me and pulled my face into his.

And so i checked that off my list. “I’ve never been on a plane you know” I stared out the window again at the magnificent view of the island “thought you said you went to the Bahamas last year” topper asked confused playing with my fingers “yeah we did, but we got a ferri- never been on a plane I thought I’d be more scared but it’s nice” I admitted looking back at him “were not going to be on it for long, it’s a short flight” he told me.

I looked at him, into his beautiful eyes and couldn’t help smiling “you know when I first met you I thought you where just like every other kook” “what changed your mind” topper ran his thumb over my thigh. “Well I saw you at the club and I guess I kinda kept an eye on you till i grew some balls”. Topper thought back and then laughed hard “what” “I remember one time when me and Rafe caught you looking and he was convinced you where after him”

I rolled my eyes with a little smile “of course he was”. Me and Rafe had become good friends now but I’d always been after topper ever since I laid my eyes on him. “Well I’m glad you came and made your move it was hot, I like confidence” “everything happens for a reason top” I ran my hands up and down the back of his neck feeling his fresh new haircut. Out the corner of my eye I noticed something splashing about in the water below.

“Topper look!!” I squealed excitedly pointing at the grey dolphin swimming up and down in my view. He giggled slightly at my reaction but was also mesmerised himself. “There beautiful” I gasped feeling the joy inside of me “this is just the start gorgeous, these two weeks are going to be the best ones of your life” he whispered to me kissing my cheek. My food came out the kitchen just as I was about to kiss my boyfriend.

“Thank you” me and topper said in sync to the butler.

- one hour later -

The seatbelt sign turned on and me and topper slowly looked back at each other. He was reluctant to let me go but did. I tightened my seatbelt in my seat and got ready for the plane to land, holding onto the arms. The pilot landed it softly into the ground on the runway and it eventually came to a halt. I smiled with relief and undid my seatbelt, topper was standing up already collecting up our stuff.

“Topper” I called out, watching the stairs go down and walking over to look at the view slowly. I felt him come behind me his hands holding my hips “welcome to St Lucia” he whispered in my ear kissing my neck.

- St Lucia

I gazed at the beach that i could see from here in utter shock and almost started jumping when I turned around to him. “Topper oh my god I can’t wait I can’t wait” I rapped my arms around his neck. Laughing he swooped me up in his arms and my legs magnetically curled around his waist. “Let me just say thank you to the pilot then I’m all yours and we can go to the villa” he kissed my lips quickly.

“Hurry” I commanded with a little smile walking down the stairs. I took a moment to breath in the different air, it was so refreshing. I couldn’t help but smile, in fact I couldn’t stop smiling. Our luggage was being loaded into a taxi already and I saw topper shaking hands with the pilot that was now walking down the stairs with him. “Alright top I’ll see you soon” “yeah, have a good one Richard” he waved.

“You ready for the time of your life?” Topper turned to me with a flash in his eyes. I couldn’t help but throw a devilishly grin back.

For more like this here is my masterlist <33

[whimsyprinx]

The Cullen family fully could’ve just gone out in the sun if they all pretended to have a body glitter obsession, like yeah it would still be kinda weird that the whole ass family has an obsession with body glitter and wears a huge amount like that but it wouldn’t be as weird as “I’ve never seen that weird ass family in the sun” like it’s such a simple solution, y’all are in modern times you can get body glitter at like any shop, just douse yourself in it regularly enough that no one bats an eye next time they see you shining like a disco ball in the sun. Like at least this way you’re weird but like in a “hey fashion!” way, y’all know your aesthetic and you’re committing to it. The Cullens are fools, you’d think all their time being live they’d use their brains and find an excuse to go into the sun but no.

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | epilogue: bases loaded

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 1.3K

notes:  thank you endlessly for reading, reviewing and sharing this story. i’m so in love with this tough-but-secretly vulnerable yoongi and you’ll never know how happy it makes me that you guys love him, too. i hope you enjoy how the story ends. either way, i’d love to hear from you! please send me an ask here and tell me what you think.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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

Fuck, it’s hot.

The forecaster called for a high of 91° today, but he must have missed that mark by at least a hundred degrees.  There is no breeze and absolutely no respite from the unforgiving sun here in the cheap seats.

The Lions batter connects with the ball -- finally -- and Yoongi winces as he watches it sail right over the foul line.

Beneath his sling his arm feels sticky, itchy. 

He’d love nothing more than to rip that sling off and go to town on his arm with his fingernails, but any moment now you’ll be back from the concession stand.  You’ll probably hold his hot dog hostage if you catch him.

So Yoongi tries to focus on the game, not the itch.  But the game sucks and Yoongi curses under his breath when the next Lions batter flies out on the first pitch.

Nine weeks ago, Yoongi never would have guessed that surgery would be the easy part. 

Going to sleep for a few hours and letting doctors cut into his skin and bone turned out to be a breeze compared to everything that’s come after.  The physical therapy has been grueling and painful.  Simple tasks like dressing and showering, even pouring a bowl of cereal have become a complete pain in the ass.  

He’s not sure he could have gotten through any of it were it not for you.

By now, he’s lost count of the ways you’ve taken care of him.  Lost count of the meals you’ve cooked for him, the loads of laundry you’ve done for him, the very, very creative ways you’ve come up with to make love to him.  He’s probably due for a new couch at this point. The damned thing started creaking last week.

So he’ll buy a new couch. 

He’ll buy a hundred new couches if it means you come home to him at night.

The days of arduous physical therapy are long forgotten when you shower and slip into bed beside him.  When you warm those forever-frigid feet against his under the covers and curl into his side.  When you wake up in the morning and make coffee and tell him wild stories about strange objects you’ve pulled from someone’s strange orifice the night before.

That’s how most nights go.  But not every night.

So it’s not enough.

It’s not enough because no matter how much Yoongi gets of you, it’s never enough.  He still wants more.

He walked to the drugstore before the drive to Daegu today.  He bought you a brand new toothbrush, one of those fancy electric ones with all the bells and whistles.  And he’s been waiting for the right time to tell you all afternoon, appreciating your pretty eyes and sunburnt cheeks.  

Waiting for the right time to tell you that he really wants you to stay.

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

“Wow, that line was brutal,” you mutter, and Yoongi looks up from beneath the rim of his snapback to find you balancing two hot dogs and a basket of fries in your hands.  You drop carefully into the seat beside him, grinning.  “I thought I was going to have to fight this kid for the last ketchup packets.”

Yoongi can’t help but grin back.  

The game sucks and the heat sucks and his arm sucks -- but you?  You definitely don’t suck. 

“Can’t get arrested for fighting kids at the concession stand, Doc,” he teases.  “The lockup here in Daegu is not exactly swanky and I can tell you that from experience.”

He reaches over with his one good arm to steal a french fry but you wrinkle your nose, pulling the basket away childishly.

“The hot dog is yours.  These are mine.”

“Wow,” Yoongi huffs.  “You’re gonna deny a one-armed man french fries?  That’s dirty.”

 “I’ve seen your bloodwork, Min,” you shrug.  “It’s time to back off the cholesterol.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head.

“So how’s it going?

“Bears are still up by five,” he sighs.  “Can’t believe I waited my whole life to watch them play this shitty in person.”

“Poor thing,” you tease, cutting your dark, sparkling eyes at him.  You begrudgingly hold a french fry out to him; a greasy consolation prize.  “Okay, fine.  I’ll give you one.”

Yoongi leans into you, pretending to go for the fry but stealing a kiss instead.  

“Sneaky,” you breathe, lips soft against his.  “But I’ll allow it.”

“Nothing to allow,” Yoongi smirks, grabbing the fry out of your hand.  “I already got it.”

You smile, turning away to look out onto the field.  

The stadium is nearly empty by now, most of the hometown fans leaving after the 7th inning when it was clear this game was headed straight into the toilet.  A Bears batter hits a line drive that whizzes right past the Lions shortstop’s glove and Yoongi claps a hand over his face.

“Swear to God, they haven’t had a season this bad since I was nine years old.”

You tut and hand him another fry.

“Namjoon offered me a job,” you announce, eyes still on the field.

Yoongi freezes, mid-bite.  

He knew this was coming, of course.  Namjoon had taken him aside one afternoon and spelled out his plan to extend the offer.  Yoongi knowing all too well that the Gajog has never been in need of a full-time doctor.  The offer is a gift, an extension of family protection.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” you grumble, rolling your eyes.  “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Okay, fine,” Yoongi grins.  “What did he say?”

“He said he’d set me up with a clinic space,” you murmur, watching another Bears lineman crack a base hit.  “Unlimited supplies.  Nurses, if I need them.  And he said he’d pay me more every year than I think I’ve made altogether since leaving medical school.”

“So are you gonna take it?” Yoongi asks carefully.

You’re quiet for a moment, dark eyes serious before turning to him.

“No.”

He knew that was coming, too.  

“I’ve worked really hard for this,” you say softly.  “And I want what I’ve earned the right way.  This isn’t judgement on you or them, but it’s not for me.  You understand, right?”

“Of course,” Yoongi says and he means it. You press your lips to his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder.

Secretly, he breathes a little sigh of relief.

He likes that you’re his piece of peace separate and apart from family business.  He likes that you’re his oasis away from the ugliness and bullshit that come far too often in this line of work.  He likes that you’re not some hand-me-down from a mothballed church widow or an act of charity from Kim Namjoon.  

He’s earned this thing with you all on his own.

“Doc,” he whispers, planting a kiss in your hair.  “I need to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” you whisper back.

“I bought you a new toothbrush.  It’s super fancy.”

You pull away from him, feigning shock.  “How fancy are we talking here?”

“Like, two hundred settings.  Video calls.  Takes bitcoin.”

“Ooh, that does sound fancy,” you breathe, smiling.  “What’s the occasion?”

Yoongi takes your hand into his, laces his fingers into yours.  

“I want you to move in with me,” he murmurs.  “If that’s what you want.”

You go quiet on him again.  Only this time, your mouth quirks into a soft smile before you lean in to press it to his.  You kiss him slow and unhurried, lips tasting like peanut oil and salt, and in that moment Yoongi decides it’s his favorite flavor of you.

“So is that a yes?” Yoongi asks, grinning when you pull away.

“Yeah.  That’s a yes.”

You both turn your heads when what’s left of the crowd starts to boo.  The Bears have just loaded the bases, top of the ninth inning, no outs. 

“This game is terrible and it’s blazing hot,” Yoongi groans.  “We should go somewhere to cool off.  And celebrate.”

“Hmm,” you sigh happily.  “What do you have in mind?”

“If you’re up for a walk, I know a place nearby,” he murmurs, planting a kiss behind your ear.  “Great milkshakes.”

You smile.  

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

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST 💕💕💕

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[greenygreenland]

Fireflies: Morro x Reader

-i was originally writing this on a whim but saw a request and was like, okay this fits PERFECTLY for that request, so here ya go -okay don’t judge me but I think Morro’s cool -banc is some random guy i made up just now lmaooo -you’re an elemental master and Morro’s childhood friend because yeahhhh

Summary: Humans are insignificant, tiny beings. Your time is drawing near and you’re sure your life was a waste.

Dreams were powerful. They became the very thing that drove people to the edge. But they were also the very thing that drove people forward, and taught them to keep looking up in the dark. When you were young, you used to wish upon a star. You used to lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling in thought.

Now, you couldn’t. Your breaths began to slow, your eyes fluttered open and closed. This was the final blow. Your final stand. Was it really okay to be out here all alone? At least you had the stars and the moon to keep you company. They had lit your way and guided you to your target. If it weren’t for those tiny little specks above, you wouldn’t have completed the stupid mission.

Sometimes you wondered if things could have been different. Before you left the monastery, you should have given Morro a tighter hug, a longer smile, a bigger laugh. You should have told your sensei how much you adored having him around, how much you admired and respected him for what he did. You should have sent another letter to Garmadon and written about how boring it was without having him around. 

There were so many things left unsaid. Unwritten. Forgotten. Why didn’t you cling tighter to them? 

“(Y/n)!” 

Your breath hitched. Was that...?

“(Y/N)!”

You let out a strangled wheeze. “M-Morro...” The grass parted around you and swished with the breeze. He collapsed by your side, heaving and mumbling under his breath. “What happened?” he demanded. “Where were you?! We captured that guy, but then you just disappeared!” Morro didn’t even try to hide the fear in his voice as he ripped his sleeve and tied it around your wounds.

The man you were trying to catch was a serial killer. You thought he was some lowly idiot, but it turned out he had an entourage of killing machines. He experimented on them, and that gave them abilities no normal people should possessed. “Morro...” You winced. “Leave. That guy, he...he has these people who...”

“Just shut up.” His was holding back tears. “You aren’t dying on me, and even if that guy had backup, you bet Sensei won’t have trouble taking them out. I’m bringing you home, so don’t you dare sleep on me.” You intertwined your bloody hand with his. “Morro, please. Go.” He clenched his teeth.

“No!” His voice came out harsh, but you knew it was good-natured. “I’m not leaving you! Not again.” You turned to stare at the starry sky. What was Morro referring to? Whatever it was felt like so long ago--or was that just your hazy memory? No, you had incredible memory. 

“(Y/n), stay awake!”

You were sleepy. The stars were beginning to fade, along with Morro’s beautiful eyes glazed over with tears. Fireflies rose from the grass, fluttering past your view in little specks of light. You wondered what it felt like to be so free and insignificant. They had no responsibilities, no nothing save for living.

What did that feel like?

“Hey...” you whispered. “Remember that time you...helped me up...after I...after I scraped my knee?” Morro squeezed your hand, but it was like he hadn’t at all. Your limbs were numb in pain.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “Save your strength--”

You laughed and it was melancholy and broken and sad and all the things Morro wished he never heard. This wasn’t you. It wasn’t what he wanted for you. The sky was blurring in a mix of pale moonlight and scattered dots of stars. You thought back to that day, the one where you had scrapped your knee.

Blood gushed out of the tattered skin. You winced, wishing with bitter regret that you hadn’t overstepped your attack. It wouldn’t have happened if you were paying more attention, but how could you when Morro was so attractively distracting?

He glanced at you from over his shoulder and paused. “Hold on,” he told his sparring partner. You blew on the open wound. Maybe it would help ease the pain, you weren’t sure. “First Spinjitzu Master, urgh.”

Morro knelt by your side, eyes all soft and warm. “You’re such a clutz sometimes.” You huffed. “I wouldn’t be if you weren’t so freaking...” Heat rose to your cheeks, reddening them like apples. There was no way you’d openly admit he made you trip over your own two feet.

“’So freaking’ what?” he inquired, raising a brow. Your rosy cheeks darkened and Morro let out a bright laugh. “Wait here.” He stood and hurried inside the monastery. His sparring partner, Banc, sent you big thumbs up. You rolled your eyes at him and threw your scabbard at him. He easily caught it with a smirk grin.

“When are you going to tell him?”

You raised a brow. “Tell him what?”

“That you like him.” Banc said it like it was the mot obvious thing in all of Ninjago, but it wasn’t like he was wrong. Sensei Wu saw it, Garmadon saw it, everyone saw it. What a miracle it would be if it was a secret, or at least a quiet thing.

“Morro’s the only one who doesn’t realise it.” you muttered. Banc rolled his eyes. “Then tell him! I’ll go insane if you keep your mouth shut for another day.” The Monastery doors opened and Morro jogged out with a wet handkerchief and a bandage. “I don’t mean to keep you guys waiting,” he said, “but this is important.”

“To you.” Banc jested. Morro rolled his eyes playfully. He knelt back by your side and gently wiped the wound. “(Y/n) could die if the wound gets infected, so it’s important anyway.” You snorted. “A wound’s not going to kill me.”

“It very well could if one is not careful.”

You turned to look at the open doors. Sensei waltzed out, bamboo staff in one hand and straw hat in the other. His bag, heavy around his shoulders, was big and filled with as much stuff as he could fit. You wondered if it was because of tea or scrolls. “Are you going somewhere?”

He nodded. “I’m afraid so. In the mean time, I hope you all come to realise what’s hidden under the surface. Whether it be hidden feelings,” he cast you a knowing look, “or personal progression. Keep the Monastery tidy and please don’t forget to pickle the vegetables. I’d hate not to have any pickled radish without my rice.”

You all shared a good-natured chuckle. Morro wrapped your knee in a bandage and turned to glance at Sensei with curious eyes. They sparkled like the clouds in the rising sunlight, just like little nuggets of gold. “What do you mean by ‘hidden feelings’?” Sensei smiled warmly. “You will have to find that out on your own. I’ll be off now, you will see me in seven days’ time.”

The moment Sensei disappeared down the front steps and Banc had closed the doors tight, silence fell over you three. Banc kept looking at you with that stupid grin of his and you had to admit, it was getting annoying. Whenever Morro turned his back to you, he motioned for you to tell him.

An hour passed, then five and six. The sun began to set along the horizon, and that was when Banc decided it was high time you fulfilled your task.

“Morro,” Banc announced. “(Y/n) has something to tell you.”

At the foot of the mountain, you lay in a large field. Morro was on your right, and Banc on your left. The fireflies that flitted past your vision were as bright as the stars, maybe even brighter. A single one landed on your nose and Morro couldn’t help but think about how beautiful you were in that moment.

“What do you want to tell me?” he inquired. You stared at the lone firefly, cheeks a dim red in its glow. “Uh...it’s...it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Banc looks like he wants to yell at you.” he said with a chuckle. The firefly launched off your nose and joined its family in a swarm of bright specks of light.

“Okay, okay. Maybe I do have something to say. It’s just that I...uh...I...”

A soft smile rested upon your lips. “You didn’t...didn’t forget that day...did you?” Morro touched his forehead to yours. His tears glistened in the moonlight and touched your cheeks like a misty morning drizzle. “No,” he whispered. “Of course I didn’t forget. How...how could I?”

You released one of his hands and shakily placed it on his damp cheeks. This was it, nothing else could stop time and save you from your last moments. No magic, no element, no god would or could come to your aid. But that was okay. As long as you Morro stayed right here in these moments, you’d be happy.

Happy. What a funny word.

“I...I don’t want to die.” Your voice cracked and Morro didn’t ignore it. “I don’t want you to die either.”

“What...what will...happen when I’m dead?” Morro heaved in a sharp breath and shook his head. “You won’t die,” --he chocked back a sob-- “I won’t let you.” That was a lie. Even though he didn’t want you to die, how could he save you? Morro was the Master of Wind, not death or resurrection. There wasn’t anything to do, no matter what he said.

“When...when I’m gone...promise you’ll...move on?”

A look of horror snapped through his eyes, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of ever having to let you go. It wasn’t what he did. How could he when you were his light, his life? If you hadn’t been around, then he would have died trying to prove Destiny wrong.

“I...I love you Morro.”

“I love you more.” He pulled you close into the security of his arms and hugged you tight. “But please, please don’t go.” You smiled again with the last of your strength. It was all you could do when the world was fading, blurring into dots and colours.

You shut your eyes. Your hand went limp.

Morro stilled and tightened his hold on your dead body. Fireflies flew past him in glowing paths of specks. A single firefly landed on your nose, illuminating the dried splatter of blood on your cheeks. In that moment, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were.

“I love you (Y/n). I love you more than anything in Ninjago.”

REBLOG so this can reach more people (and therefore support me, the creator!) TIP JAR <---

[cloud-9ine]

Through a Golden Lens (pt 1)

⤷ pairing - hawks x (fem) reader

⤷ fandom - bnha 

⤷ warnings - some language, hawks flirting, reader’s cynicism 

⤷ summary - reader is a bitter, overworked photographer at a hero press agency with little patience for her newly assigned muse- hawks

⤷ word count - 4.5k+

⤷ notes - i have lots of ideas so this is probably going to be a multi-part series. also new to tumblr so this might not be the best

⤷ pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

“Mr. Hawks! Please look this way!” his heavy lidded eyes rolled to the side as another blinding flash burned through his vision. 

“You look perfect, thank you!” it was hard to smile for their benefit, but he managed. Hawks had attended countless of these events for the press. It had been exhilarating at first, with the rush of adrenaline from the cameras and the lights and the endless stream of compliments solidifying his place in the public eye.

Nowadays, it was less thrilling. After a while, they all seemed the same- each one blurring into a senseless flare of cameras and hollow accolades.

He was bored, to say the least.

“Mr Hawks, would you like to come and see? I’d love to hear your opinion on this set!” with a practiced, easy smirk he nodded. It was easier to pander to the artist than to criticise their work. 

He looked good, but when did he not? The shoots were easy to glide through. All he had to do was pull a boyish grin, ‘make love to the camera’ as the photographers always liked to spout. It didn’t really matter what he did: the public would eat up anything with his face slapped on to the front. They all looked the same to him, anyway.

“Looks good,” he wondered why people were so easily satiated by shallow praises, but as he stared at the younger lady’s blush, he couldn’t help but realise that maybe it was him who had something to do with it.

Hawks couldn’t help his gaze from drifting to the door. His skin prickled in the humidity of all the moving bodies in one enclosed space and he longed to take a step outside and stretch his wings in a way that wasn’t to pose for a magazine. 

For a moment, he felt like his prayers had been answered when the door opened, letting in a stream of natural light to breach the artificiality of the modelling room. 

”(L/N)! You were supposed to be here over three hours ago!” the woman in front of him exclaimed, ripping the camera away from his view and marching to the figure that appeared in the light. He blinked in surprise: this entire shoot he hadn’t heard her raise her voice above anything but a low mumble when conversing with him, and now she was positively fuming.

You stared down at your co-worker through honey-tinted shades, expression unamused.

“Yeah, and I was also supposed to be out of this job three years ago. We don’t all do what we’re supposed to, cupcake.”

For a moment, Hawks thought you were a model. Tasteful cream turtleneck tucked into heavily creased mocha skirt, caramel beret perched on your head. There were a few metal, classy looking rings wrapped around your fingers, but as far as he could see, no wedding ring. It was pretty standard style for those who worked in the arts, but somehow you wore it so well. 

Your hair was a little dishevelled, and the dark circles under your eyes combined with the coffee cup in your hand were obvious signs of a rough night. His eyes locked on to the loopy black handwriting on the brown band around the cup.

(L/N) (Y/N)

You were no model, but Hawks couldn’t see the difference.

His wings beat lightly behind his back as he glided over, weaving through the other photographers and models scattered around the area. 

“Hey there, I’m Hawks,” he said smoothly, voice saccharine as he spoke to you. Your attention turned to him as you glanced at him from above the frames of your sunglasses, seemingly unimpressed.

“This the new boytoy, Mizuki?” you asked, eyes raking up and down his figure. Hawks was never one to shy away from the gaze of others, but the way you were inspecting him made him feel so exposed.

“Show some respect,” Mizuki muttered, voice lowered at Hawks’ presence but glare still piercing. You sighed, sparing one last glance at Hawks before snatching the camera out of Mizuki’s hands, leaving her scrambling for the device as you walked away.

“Lemme see what you’ve got already,” Mizuki’s face grew red, half from anger towards you, and half because of the embarrassment of being diminished in front of Hawks.

“(L/N) y-you can’t just come in three hours late and take over! I’ve already done the shoot and Hawks has already expressed that he is pleased with the outcome,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and shooting the shorter woman a glare over your shoulder.

“There’s no way you’re gonna force me to come into work and make me sit here doing nothing,” you sneered, waving the camera around almost teasingly, “you wanted someone actually skilled to do this shoot, and here I am. Let me do my thing,” without waiting for a response, you left, thumb fumbling with the dial that allowed you to scroll through the photos.

Hawks was impressed. You hadn’t bat an eye when you saw him, and while you were very clearly very late, you were confident in your skills and obviously took your job seriously.

“Who was that?” he questioned, wings spreading slightly as his eyes chased after you. Mizuki bowed her head, remorse filling her expression.

“I apologise for her impertinence. That’s (L/N), she was who your original photographer was supposed to be today, but when she didn’t show up I had to take over,” she huffed, “she’s been like this for about a year now, and the boss is prepared to fire her if she keeps it up. So you’d think she’d be able to pull her at together for you, Mr. Hawks...”

After a while, Hawks tuned out her whining, eyes curiously trained on you, surveying your furrowed brows and expression pinched with annoyance as you studied the photos. Although they looked good enough to him, it appeared that you didn’t share the same sentiment. 

Hawks didn’t have time to avert his eyes when you turned your head, gaze locking on to his. You raised a slightly suspicious brow, but otherwise didn’t entertain his actions. 

“Mizuki, why would you use cool lighting?” you called over your shoulder, not even sparing the decency to turn around and face the person you were addressing. Mizuki frowned, moving to your side. Like a magnet, Hawks did the same, peering over your other shoulder. You eyed him from the corner of your vision for a second before tapping the screen. 

“What do you mean?” you sighed at your co-workers words, evidently frustrated.

“Considering you have bird boy over here in dark academia, accented in warmer yellows, using cool lights will bring out too much of a contrast. We need to match the accent colours with warmer lighting, or use a overlay,” you muttered, seemingly addressing yourself more than the two of them. Mizuki just shook her head.

“That would just oversaturate the image,” you snorted, giving her the same patronising look an adult would give a child if they tried to outsmart them.

“Not necessarily. I could spot-reduce saturation in highlight areas during editing. Or, if you really want your contrast, I could neutralise the warmer shades by using a blue, or compliment them using a red,” Hawks didn’t miss the way you said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. Mizuki looked agitated, her frown growing deeper.

“Even so, we only have white backdrops. That would be a jarring contrast. You’d need something darker or more clustered to make it work. If you wanted a backdrop change you probably should’ve come earlier,” she spoke with a formality that obviously stemmed from Hawks next to her, but you paid no mind. You were silent for a moment, and Hawks could see your eyes narrowing as you were thinking.

“I need a natural background, huh?” you mumbled, thumbing the buttons on the camera. With a shrug, “alright, bird boy, come on, we’re leaving,” Hawks blinked in surprise as you spun on your heel, a grin breaking onto his face. Finally, he got to leave.

“Whatever you say, boss,” you shot him an irritated look.

“Don’t call me that. I’m 22, not 40,” his feathers ruffled up. “Hey, I’m also 22! What a coincidence, right?” he grinned, winking at you. You just responded by rolling your eyes.

Mizuki spluttered, trying in vain to get either one of you to stop as Hawks trailed after you.

“L-Look, you can’t just leave-” you turned, shoving the camera back into her hands, a mirthless smile on your face.

“Watch me,” your voice was cold, goading her to try and stop you, “bird boy, out, now.” Hawks didn’t have to be told twice. Some of the others whispered and muttered as they realised what was going on, but they all fell quiet when you shot them a sharp glare.

He breathed in the fresh air with a content sigh, his chest feeling lighter now he was out the cramped room. The amber glow from the late afternoon sun kissed his tanned skin as he stretched his arms above his head, his forearms flexing slightly under his dark blazer. His eyes shut in bliss and head tilted back, exposing his sharp jawline.

You eyed him slightly, eyes trailing across his features. Now that you had actually left, you were a little lost on what your plan was. You didn’t regret storming out of there, though, nor did you even consider turning back to apologise.

You took your own camera out of the dark camera bag slung across your body, careful not to scratch it on the tripod, and focused the lens on Hawks. It was smaller, a little more compact than the ones Mizuki and the others were using, but you found that it was much better suited for portrait work. 

The click of the camera shutter brought Hawks out of his stupor, eyes snapping open and immediately landing on you. Your attention had already been diverted to the screen, studying your work. 

“The modelling room is stuffy, I’ll give you that,” you mumbled, zooming in on his face, “but you can stretch while we walk,” Hawks leaned over you, eyes sparkling at the shot.

“Aw, you make me look so good, I’m flattered!” you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be,” you took a large sip of your coffee, moving down the pathway as you thought. Hawks scrambled after you, his wings puffing out when he reached your side. You couldn’t help but gaze at the bright red feathers as he unfurled his wings, a small, happy chirping noise rumbling at the back of his throat once they were fully spread behind your back. They were warm, you noticed, feeling the heat through your turtleneck. 

Your vision was filled with a cheeky smirk painted on full lips, Hawks’ face appearing in front of your eyes. Your eyes narrowed as you sized him up.

“See something you like?” you rolled your eyes as he purred. 

“Not in the slightest, bird brain,” his wings beat behind his back, hand clutching the fabric on his chest.

“Oh, how you wound me!” Hawks cried, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly, which you quickly covered with your coffee cup. 

“I’m sure you’ll face a villain that will do greater damage than I could,” he hummed, angling his face towards the sun. 

“So, where are we headed?” you chewed on your bottom lip, slinging your camera over your shoulder. 

“It can’t be anywhere with lots of traffic, you attract a lot of attention, you know?” it was a rhetorical question, but Hawks’ chest still puffed out in pride at your words.

“Thanks, it’s because of my raging-”

“Shut up,” you cut him off, “either way, I have a pounding headache and I do not have enough shits to give to put up with your fan girls today,” with a sigh, you rubbed your temples. Hawks stared at your clenched teeth.

“Hey, why do you-” “I think I know where we can go,” he frowned.

“You know it’s not polite to interrupt people like that-”

“Sunflowers.” your tone dripped finality as you faced Hawks, a brazen determination in your eyes he hadn’t seen until now. It made his breath hitch in his throat.

Breathy chuckle escaping his lips, and eyebrows furrowed when you sped your pace, gulping down more of your coffee.

“Uh, what?” you waved a hand dismissively.

“There’s a sunflower field in Fukuroi City, I think it’s west from here,” the tiniest of grins etched onto your features, “it’s gonna be a lot more interesting than the rest of those blank background. Plus, the yellow will compliment your clothes, and with the sun low in the sky I’ll get my perfect warm lighting,” you explained. Hawks wasn’t sure exactly how much of a difference it would make, but the idea seemed charming, and it was more exciting than being perpetually flanked by a white screen.

“Sounds good,” he chirped, “although, to be honest, you could take me out anywhere and I wouldn’t mind,” you rolled your eyes. 

“That’s a shame, because I don’t intend to hang around any more than I have to,” Hawks pouted, crossing his arms.

“Come on, I wanna know more about you!” you bristled.

“Good for you.” the two of you fell into a beat of silence before Hawks smiled, undaunted.

“I’m sure I can win you over somehow,” shaking your head in disbelief, you lifted the cup to your lips, before looking down disappointedly when you realised it was empty.

“I don’t have enough coffee for this,” you muttered. Hawks’ expression brightened. 

“That’s an easy fix: your agency is around here so you must know there area pretty well,” he spoke nonchalantly, as if he was on a casual lunch date and not in the most expensive outfit you’d seen in your entire life, “what’s the best place to grab a coffee?” for a moment, you looked taken aback, before shaking your head.

“Best café in these parts is the Sunset Hour,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck, “but as much as I have no inhibitions regarding bunking off work, that’s a little too far away. I need to take this pictures before the end of the day or Mizuki’ll submit those crappy ones she took in the studio,” Hawks nodded in understanding, smile never faltering for a second.

“Well I gotta get you your caffeine fix somewhere, so what’s the second best?” your expression scrunched in thought for a moment, before you jutted a thumb over your shoulder.

“There’s a Starbucks across the road,” he snickered seeing your blank expression.

“Not exactly where I would want our first date, but I suppose it’ll do,” rolling your eyes, you shoved the empty cup to his chest, which he gripped almost instinctively. 

“Good thing this isn’t a date, then,” Hawks grinned, sending your empty cup on a feather to the nearest bin before chasing after you as you crossed the road. You didn’t spare him a single glance when he appeared at your shoulder, nor when he reached over above your head to open the Starbucks door from behind you.

“So you’re saying we can have our first date somewhere else?” with a shallow sigh, you shook your head.

“What I’m saying is that there’s not gonna be a first date. Not between us,” his chest tightened. God, you were so mean. He’d be into that.

The inside of the Starbucks was a mix between modern, western architecture and traditional Japanese woodwork. The equipment was all cutting edge, and the tables and chairs were made with a sleek mahogany, but the windows were framed with bamboo shutters, and the backroom was separated with shoji sliding doors. It was an curious blend, one that you studied with an interest. The deep, earthy scent of roasted coffee beans heavily imbued the air, filling your nose with the aroma of something far more familiar. 

Given it was the late afternoon, and most people tended not to drink caffeine after 2pm, the patrons were few and far in between. Good for you, at least. It meant you wouldn’t get- “Hawks? Sorry to bother you but can we get a picture?” your head turned at the voice that rung out.

Two high school girls stood to your left, hands clutched together in front of their chests and a dark pink coating their cheeks. With a small sigh, you took a step forward in the small queue. Hawks smiled with all the faux charm in the world, an obvious change in his demeanour as his pride spiked.

“Of course! And just as it happens, I have my personal photographer here who can make sure your photos look amazing as you two do!” it took you a moment to register what he had said through the excited squeals of the girls before he clutched your shoulders and pulled you forward, causing you to stumble slightly. 

“Your what?” he sent you an audacious smirk, willing you to play along as one of the girls handed you her phone. Your first instinct was to decline, but as you met the eyes of the girls, so eager and bright, you couldn’t find it in you to disappoint them. 

Taking a couple steps back, you lifted the phone, slightly angling it so the picture looked more natural, and not that of a celebrity and their fans (even if it was). You squinted angrily at the poor lighting, but tried to rectify it the best you could. The girls looked a little tense, but Hawks was a natural. A liberal smirk played on his lips and shoulders rolled back, relaxed. Even with the low lighting, the highlights on his cheekbone and jawline were indescribably perfect, and you weren’t sure if the credit should go to you or his god-like genes.

“Wow, that’s perfect!” one of the girls cried, her body appearing by your side. You hadn’t even noticed her moving, “thank you so much!” you just nodded, handing her back her phone and crossing your arms, eyes narrowing at Hawks.

“If that’s all, ladies, we best be ordering,” they nodded frantically at Hawks’ words, sharply bowing and spouting their thanks to the two of you countless times. They left the Starbucks, but even outside you could still hear them fawning over the picture. He faced you with a grin, but you couldn’t muster up a smile.

“Don’t go around telling people I’m your personal photographer,” you sneered. He pouted, looking genuinely disappointed for a second. “What, you don’t wanna be mine?” “Not in the slightest.” 

“What will be your order, Miss?” the barista had directed the question at you, but it was clear his attention was elsewhere. You weren’t surprised, but a small swell of annoyance grew in your mind.

“Can I have a mocha with a double shot of expresso?” Hawks chuckled.

“Might as well have an expresso, you know. You’re basically just taking a shot of caffeine,” you shrugged.

“It’s my favourite drink. I like the chocolate taste,” he looked at you with round eyes, a small squeeze in his chest.

“And you, sir?”

“Oh, I’ll have the same, then,” he didn’t miss the way your eyes darted to him. The barista nodded, tapping for a couple seconds before turning back.

“That’ll be 660 yen,” “I’m paying,” Hawks blurted, even before you could offer. You were silent, a small nod in the affirmative rocking your head. As he handed over the bills, he chuckled. “You know, not that I mind, but usually couples would argue over who’s paying,” you rolled your eyes.

“We’re not a couple,” you watched the barista prepare your drinks, more of a way to occupy yourself rather than a genuine interest, “besides, you’re a lot richer than I am. I don’t mean to be impolite, but I’m sure you can lose 600 yen and still be good,” he hummed happily.

“No disagreements there.” “Are you two eating in or taking out?” the barista asked, in the midst of securing the plastic lids to the top of the cups. Hawks’ eyes sparkled as he turned to you with an excitement you assumed only appeared in children.

“Hey, we can-” “Take out,” you responded, giving a now deflated Hawks a challenging look, “I will leave you here if I have to.” the blonde grinned. “You wouldn’t. You need me for the pictures,” he sang, voice jovial.

“I don’t care about you that much. The sunflowers are probably less annoying subjects anyway,” oh. With no warning, his heart beat sped up, his wings puffing out slightly. Sure, he wouldn’t mind if you were a little nicer to him, but your insults were like a breath of fresh air. There was no doubt that Hawks loved the limelight, loved the popularity he got, but the relentless ass-kissing got old after a while. You kept him on his toes. Even if he was just constantly chasing after you every time you brushed him off, he didn’t care. 

“Put those away, bird brain,” it was then he realised his wings had spread further than he intended, stretched out on either side of him. One was curled right around his face, and he almost felt himself blushing as he pulled them in. It was just animal instincts, he assured himself. 

The rest of the journey was filled with a one-sided conversation of him talking and commenting on what was around you, with no response from you except the occasional witty retort or light-hearted jab at his expense, each one making his heart flutter. It wasn’t too long before you had arrived, the chain link fence around the plot stretching high above your head and corroded with orange rust. 

Rows and rows of bright yellow sunflowers stretched to the horizon, an immense display of summer vitality. The fragrance was potent, a sort of cloying sweetness that you didn’t hate. And just as you were about to enter, you knew you had made a mistake. 

“Oh.” Hawks stared at you incredulously, attention switching from your taken aback expression to the sign posted on the gate.

“You didn’t check to see it was open?” you looked up at him, allowing him to survey a tinge of remorse he hadn’t recognised until this point. 

“Look, how was I supposed to know? This place has always been open at this time since I was a little kid,” you rubbed your arm, brows furrowed. Hawks sighed, rolling his shoulders back.

“Well, the sun’s too low to go anywhere else outside,” he shrugged, “it’s no biggie, I guess. Those other photos weren’t too bad. Hey, now that we’re free, do you want to- what are you doing?” your foot was halfway in the gaps in the gate, the wedges on your heels making it hard to climb.

“I’m not wasting my day for nothing,” you growled, fingers curling around the metal, “get climbing, bird boy,” with a soft sigh, smile gracing his lips and a warm feeling in his chest, Hawks spread his wings.

“I think you’re forgetting something that’ll make this a lot easier,” you felt a cool draft on your back as Hawks flapped his wings, the feeling being quickly replaced by the warmth of his chest as he pulled you in. A foreign emotion coiled in your stomach, but you convinced yourself that it was just the flight.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other supporting your knees, and all Hawks was thinking that such a gentle flight never felt so calming. 

Your feet tapped against the soft soil, sinking in to it slightly when the hero placed you down. You nodded your thanks.

“Let’s go over there, I want the sun coming in from the right,” Hawks nodded, content to just follow your orders. You pulled the tripod from your bag and set it up, adjusting it to your liking as Hawks looked around, trying to think of a pose. 

Once everything was ready, you turned your attention to Hawks.

“I want to humanise you,” he grinned curiously as you walked over.

“What do you mean by that?” he nearly gasped when you grabbed his chin, angling his face to the side and slightly up, towards the sun. You took a step closer, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. He bit his lip, hands trembling as you tugged slightly, trying to mess it up a little.

“All the photos I’ve seen on you always put a huge emphasis on either your wings or your hero status, and I don’t really see why,” you mumbled, placing one hand on his jawline while the other fixed his hair to your liking, letting a few strands fall in front of his eyes, “I think that just creates a divide. If they wanted you to seem angelic they should play that up, not just have it the norm,” you huffed, “anyway, I wanna put the emphasis on you and not your wings. So ideally if you could tuck them behind your back that would be wonderful,” 

Hawks nodded, disappointment filling him as you stepped away. He made sure not to move as he awkwardly folded his wings over each other and pulled them in, glancing at you with a look of apprehension. You just nodded in approval, leaning down to your camera. 

You took plenty of shots, allowing him plenty more opportunities to feel your hands on him (and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it). 

“Hey, why were you so late today?” Hawks dared to question while you were analysing your photos. You were perched on a bench, appreciating your work. The late sun cast a golden sheen on his skin, the spattering of glimmering rays highlighting his face in all the right places. 

“I was sleeping,” you responded, deleting an out of focus shot. His eyes narrowed.

“What?” “Just as it sounds. Figured if they were gonna make me work so I could only have three hours of sleep a night it was gonna be on their time, not mine,” he frowned, taking a seat next to you.

“They shouldn’t work you that hard,” you shrugged with a hollow laugh, blank gaze in your eyes. 

“What am I gonna do? Have them fire me? As much as I hate this job it’s the only thing that pays for my coffee in the morning,” he was silent as you stood up, stretching your arms behind your bag before tucking everything back in your bag. 

“Did you want to be a photographer?” he questioned, only to be met with a forlorn smile.

“Maybe at one point.” the two of you lapsed into silence before you sighed.

“Well, I’ve gotta submit these to Mizuki, and I’m sure you need-” Hawks caught your wrist, spinning you back around.

In the glow of the sunset, you looked almost ethereal. Your eyes gleamed, and cheeks warmed in the orange flare. Sunflowers framed your form, and the words caught in his throat, nearly stopping him from saying anything at all.

“Come work for me.” he blurted. You snorted.

“No.” all he could do was smile as you hopped back over the fence, not waiting up for him.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Christmas Specials: Jake and Kauri

Honestly, this is mostly just some genuinely sharp pining and yearning.

“Merry Christmas.”

The box, small and light, drops onto the kitchen table with a sound more like a tap than a thud. Jake blinks down at it, cheerfully wrapped in a bright cacophony of rainbow colors in vaguely ornament-like shapes. Jake sets his coffee mug slowly down, steam curling up into the air, particles of dust briefly visible floating through the beams of early morning light.

Kauri hasn’t slept, and it’s clear - his hair is still mussed, he’s wearing clothes from the night before, that particular look of shadowed satisfaction he has after a night well-wasted. Red-rimmed eyes and the slightest wince at the sun coming in through the curtains, and still… still, he’s Kauri, and Jake’s glad to see him.

“Not Christmas yet,” Jake offers, carefully casual. If his eyes are on Kauri’s too long, neither one of them mention it. Kauri smells like cigarette smoke and another man’s cologne, and he doesn’t smoke so Jake knows that means he’s been with someone who does. “You’re up early, Kaur.”

“At what point,” Kauri asks, with the air of a philosopher posing a question for the ages, “Does it stop being up late and begins being up early?”

“When it’s 7 o’clock in the fucking morning, you’re pretty safely at up early. What brought you by?”

Kauri shrugs, pouring himself a cup of coffee. The house creaks around them, ancient bones settling into the foundation. There’s the telltale squeak of the spot just outside the bathroom door, and then the sound of water rushing through pipes. Chris, in the shower, Jake thinks. Antoni steps around the spot on the floor that squeaks. Leila moved out, and they haven’t gotten anyone new for her old room yet.

“I just decided to,” Kauri says, yawning, and something about the way his eyes close makes him look like a sleepy kitten, rumpled and ready to simply list to the side until he collapses. “Had this to give you.”

“I have something for you, too, but I haven’t wrapped it.”

Kauri blinks, pouring peppermint mocha creamer into the coffee cup and topping it off with plain milk. He turns and leans back against the counter, sipping, and the way he smiles a little at the taste of the coffee makes Jake’s chest twist in an anxiety he can name but can’t afford to linger on. “You got me a present?”

Kauri sounds so fucking surprised that it hurts.

Do you really think so little of yourself?

“Of course I did. So did Chris, and Nat, and Antoni.”

Kauri lets out his breath, disbelieving, shaking his head with a half-grin. “I don’t know why. I can’t have anything that doesn’t fit in my backpack.”

“I mean, you could stay-”

“No.” Kauri cuts him off. “No. I can’t.”

“Fair. But I think everyone got you stuff that you can carry with you easy. Plus I think Nat got Keira something, but don’t ask me what. What you buy for a fucking Roomba is beyond me.” Jake watches the way Kauri relaxes back into the easy joking, the more sensitive minefield of simply being cared for avoided for now. “I’ll be right back, then we can exchange, yeah? Just us, first.”

“Yeah.” Kauri gives him that cockeyed grin again, turns to look out the window. The sky is a riot of purples and pinks as the sun slowly rises on a California December. The only change is that it’ll start raining soon, and Kauri wears a sweater sometimes.

Jake pushes himself to his feet, ducking his head as usual to avoid knocking it on the top of the doorframe, heading up the stairs with the solid creaks from the old steps that are as much a part of the house as the pictures Nat keeps on the wall. Chris meets him coming out of the shower, towel-drying his longish hair - he’s growing it out, he says, and it has the slightest curl against the back of his neck and under his ears - and wearing all his clothes already.

With some of the rescues, it’s a sign they still didn’t feel safe, when they took all their clothes into the bathroom and never let their skin be seen. With Chris, as with most Romantics, it’s the opposite. He feels safe enough to know he can make himself comfortable any way he wants. Not feeling like he needs to show skin is a sign of security for him.

“Hey, hey Jake,” Chris says, one green eye covered by the pastel purple towel. “Did, did I hear you, um, you talking to, to-... is, is breakfast-”

“Can you chill up here for a sec?” Jake interrupts him, voice pitched low. At Chris’s confusion, he says softly, “I just… want to do something. Give me ten minutes, yeah? Then I’ll start on breakfast and you can come down.”

“Um, oh-okay,” Chris says, frowning, but he slips into the room he shares with Antoni, and Jake heads for his own room, digging out Kauri’s gift from underneath a carefully arranged pile of basically trash papers in his desk drawer. Hidden, like Kauri was a kid who still believed in Santa.

Hidden, like Jake didn’t want to explain what he did to anyone but Kauri, and definitely didn’t want to explain why.

He heads back downstairs with the gift carefully slipped into his back pocket, unseen until he wants Kauri to know. Ducks his head again - and Jake has been ducking to avoid doorframes since he was sixteen, he thinks, or eighteen maybe - and finds Kauri right where he left him, still sipping his coffee, lost in thought.

Warm gold light edges his mussed-up black curls, sets off the blue of his eyes when he turns to look at Jake. Lights his smile a little, too. Jake’s eyes catch the barest hint of a flash of bare skin at his stomach, where shirt hem and low-slung jeans meet. 

“Want to do yours first?” Jake asks, and his voice sounds airy to him, but Kauri doesn’t seem to notice.

“Nah. You open yours, then I’ll do mine.” Kauri gives a smooth shrug, effortlessly graceful. Or maybe it hadn’t been effortless, before it’d been beaten into him until he couldn’t be anything else. 

Jake nods, slowly, and sits down, carefully shifting his weight not to put any on the phone, and takes the box in hand. He rips open a seam very slowly and shifts the box out, then folds the wrapping paper and sets it to the side. 

He catches Kauri watching him, eyebrows furrowed again and glances up. 

“Why-... why didn’t you just tear it?” Kauri points at the folded square, as neat as origami. “Why did you do that? It’s like 15 cents of paper.”

Jake shrugs, running his fingers over the smooth, plain brown box the size of his palm, mostly flat. “We always saved wrapping paper to use the next year, when I was a kid. It’s just a habit, guess I never lost it. What’s in here?”

“Open the box and see.” Kauri holds his mug in both hands, giving him a pleased little smile, and not for the first time, Jake thinks, if I’d met you any other way…

He opens the box. Inside, there’s three gift cards, slightly shiny, and Jake looks each one over, blinking, before he looks up. “This is… the Mitchells Center downtown, the Blue Martini, and… Holden’s Harbor… Kauri, this is-... what is this?”

“A date.” Kauri bites down on his lower lip, looking at Jake over his mug, and his eyes are sparkling bright. Jake almost opens his mouth to say, I’m so sorry, we can’t do that, we just can’t, when Kauri quickly adds, “For you and Addie.”

Jake’s protest dies, unspoken. “For… for Addie?”

“Yeah. You’ve been talking for months about saving up for a big anniversary thing, and then, you know, I heard you say you were giving Nat a bunch of your money when the pipe burst and the basement flooded, so…” He shrug, again. “I didn’t want you to miss out on your date. And I remembered you said she likes that bar, the Blue Martini, I know the bartender there-”

You know everyone, everywhere.

“-so he’s gonna give you drinks half-price, just tell me the night and I’ll let him know. Then Holden’s Harbor, that’s the big one, but I’m friends with a waiter and the hostess is going to give you a table that looks over the Bay, she’s fun, I partied with her a few week ago. And then… the Mitchells Center is doing Hadestown, and you said that’s Addie’s big thing right now. So. Happy anniversary.” 

Jake is, for a moment, utterly speechless. “Kauri this is like-... three hundred dollars of-... you can’t possibly-”

“Four. But don’t worry about it. I had a bunch of really good weeks a couple months ago and I don’t spend much money, anyway. Is it good? Do you think?”

Jake just stares at the gift cards for a second, swallowing around a lump in his throat, a tightening threatening to take his voice. “It’s, um.” His voice cracks a little and he has to clear his throat to recover it. “It’s amazing, Kaur. Thank you. Um… like I said, I didn’t have time to wrap it, but…” He pulls the gift out of his back pocket and lays it out on the table between them.

Kauri steps forward, setting his mug down. “What-... a new phone? Thanks, I-”

“Yeah, but, um, that’s not what’s important. Just…” Jake picks the phone up, and it feels like such a dumb thing, now, what he did, but he powers through it. The phone isn’t locked yet, and it’s easy to pull up the apps and folders, select one, and open it up. He slides the phone closer. “Pick one of those, and click it.”

Kauri looks down, and Jake looks with him. It’s a file folder open to a bunch of sound files, each one labeled with an emoji rather than words. A heart, a broken heart, a smile, a sad face. A gravestone. A tree. A cat.

His finger hovers, and then taps deliberately over the heart. A line of options pops up, each one punctuated with new emojis. The one Kauri picks is marked with a face that has blue eyes and black hair, a leaf, and a flower.

“I swear,” A voice - Jake’s voice - comes out of the phone’s speaker, “since seeing Your face, the whole world is fraud and fantasy. The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf or blossom. The distracted birds can’t distinguish the birdseed from the snare.”

“What is this?” Kauri’s voice is hushed, and uncertain. He almost sounds scared. But he doesn’t stop the recording. 

“A house of love with no limits,” The voice continues, “A presence more beautiful than Venus or the moon. A beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart. The Divani Shamsi Tabriz XV.”

Jake clears his throat again. “That’s, um, Rumi.”

Kauri’s breath catches in his throat, and he looks for a second like he’ll pick another choice, then pulls his hand back, looking up at Jake wide-eyed. “You… recorded poetry? For my Christmas present?”

“Yeah.” Jake licks at his lips, his heart pounding for reasons he can’t really explain to himself, or maybe just doesn’t want to. “You, um, you quote-... you quote shit all the time, so I started looking it up, and it’s almost always… poetry. So I figured, maybe, um, maybe-... you liked that shit, you know? And you shouldn’t have to… not get it, just because you can’t read yet. So I recorded, um, like… two hundred poems or something?”

Kauri opens his mouth to speak, closes it again. 

“Oh my God,” is all he says. His voice cracks.

Jake’s chest twists, nervous, he finds himself tapping his foot on the floor, twisting fingers into his pajama pants. 

Kauri leans over and pushes another poem, in a sudden burst of movement like he wants to stop himself and can’t. “Sometimes, I think you get the worst of me.” Jake’s voice is softer on this poem, and it’s uncomfortable listening to himself read this. Why did Kauri choose the love poems? “The much-loved loose forest-green sweatpants, the long bra-less days, hair knotted and uncivilized, a shadowed brow where the devilish thoughts do their hoofed dance on the brain.”

“This is Ada Limon,” Kauri whispers.

“I’d like to say this means I love you, the stained white cotton T-shirt, the tears, pistachio shells, the mess of orange peels on my desk, but it’s different than that. I move in this house with you, the way I move in my mind, unencumbered by beauty’s cage.”

“You, uh, mentioned her one day when Nat was listening to NPR-”

“Ssshhhh,” Kauri says, holding up a hand, as Jake’s recorded voice keeps reading.

“I do like I do in the tall grass, more animal-me than much else. I’m wrong, it is that I love you, but it’s more that when you say it back, lights out, a cold wind through curtains, for maybe the first time in my life, I believe it. Ada Limon, Love Poem With Apologies for My Appearance.”

There’s a long silence broken only by Kauri’s harsh breathing, and Jake watches tears build in his wide blue eyes. He’s done something wrong, somehow. It had seemed like a good gift but he’s ruined it, somehow it wasn’t right at all, it wasn’t-

“Thank you, this is-... this is amazing,” Kauri says. Barely words. More just a breath.

Some part of Jake had been tense and coiled to turn in on himself in anger. That part, at the words, relaxes. “You’re welcome. Is it-... is it good, or…”

“You, um-... you fucking heard, some shit I said, and you-... got me something, I just...” Kauri’s hands move nervously, over himself and over the back of the chair, to the phone, back up to his hair. He meets Jake’s eyes, and his brim with tears and Jake feels his own heating up in response. “You just… I, I don’t-... no one’s ever done anything like this for me.”

“Really?”

“I m-mean, not that I know of anyway.” The joke falls flat, Kauri’s voice is too full of tears. Kauri picks up the phone like it’s a precious object that might shatter or disappear, holds it with reverent hands. Swallows and looks at Jake like he’s seeing him for the first time. “I didn’t-... know you listened to me so much.”

“‘Course I do. Merry Christmas,” Jake says, voice maybe a little thick, buried in the things they don’t say to each other. “Merry Christmas, Kauri.”

Kauri pours himself another cup of coffee, and Jake lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding at the sign that Kauri will stay a little longer. 

With his back to Jake and the phone still clutched in one hand, Kauri says, “Merry Christmas, Jake.”

They both pretend that Kauri’s voice isn’t shaking.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

[desiraypark]

Take What You Want

Characters: !CEO Ben Solo x Plus Size Female Reader Setting: Alternate/Modern Universe  Summary/Content Warning: Fuckin’. On a boat.  Unprotected PIV sex (assume you’re on BC, or don’t!), oral sex (female receiving). Reader is a bit insecure about her appearance but I worked to avoid the whole “woman doesn’t like how she looks, a MANLY MAN-MAN says HE likes it, therefore a lifetime of hurt disappears in seconds YAY!” trope lol. Ben just wants to fuck you in front of the ocean, okay?

*Use of “Ben Solo” is more so to establish his legacy/bloodline, not necessarily his character/personality or anything like that. BEN’S YACHT (Video: 00:15 is where you’re sitting) - I don’t know if I got the terminology right but who cares, let’s get to the bangin’. 

The past five months had been...Interesting. Different. Thrilling. Perfect. Almost, too perfect--but you didn’t fight it.

It was during the second week of January when you strolled through the cool, bland, and dull-lit spaces of Dice6, LLC.--all the way to the conference room where its young CEO, Ben Solo, sat at the head of the table. The receptionist led you inside. You shook his hand and sat two seats to his right. He asked very few questions and listened intently to your answers. Or so you assumed.

Barely five minutes into the interview, he closed your folder, leaned back in his seat, and looked you over. 

“I’m not hiring you,” he said. 

“Oh...okay...” you’d responded, confused and disappointed. 

“I’m going to take you on a date.”

“...excuse me?”

“Why did you apply for this job?” he asked.

“Um, because this is a reputable com--”

“What do you need money for? Do you have a new place? New to the city?”

“I just...I want a well-paying job to survive, Sir...”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. 

“I’ve got a feeling about you,” he said. He crossed his leg over the other. “I always listen to my instincts. How would you like to survive and thrive on my bank account?”

You freaked out and excused yourself from the interview. Of course, he gave you a call that you ignored. The next day, you got an email reminder about your soon-to-be due student loan payment, and well...you went on and called him back.

____________________

“I’ve never been on a yacht before,” you’d told him over the phone.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“What do I wear?”

“Dresses, shorts, bathing suits. Lingerie. Preferably nothing.”

“I’ll have to go shopping, I guess.”

“I’d like to see you in jewel tones. And bright reds. I never see you in red.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You’d sent him pictures of the clothing you’d bought with his money. In his calm abrasiveness, he’d called you and told you that he hated your swimsuits and lingerie. Later, he sent you photos of things he wanted you to wear--lots of things you’d never felt comfortable wearing. Or rather, things other people would make you feel ashamed for wearing. But you took another shopping trip and did your best.

____________________

Ben stood at the door to the outer deck waiting for you. You smiled as he took your hand and led you into the open space for dessert and champagne. The two of you sat close on the plush sofa as you ate a fluffy, strawberry cake and stared out at the sparkling waters.

“Are you enjoying everything?” he asked, breaking the serene silence. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his jaw.

“I’m loving it. Thank you for this.”

His eyes didn’t leave you when you pulled away. The pupils were dilated and he was chewing on his lip. You were familiar with that look. Past loves had also signaled their desire to fuck with darkened and narrowed eyes, and working jaws. 

Ben traced the outline of your red lips with the tip of his index finger. You parted your lips, signaling for him to place the tip into the small hole that had formed. He smirked and pressed his finger inside and you licked it. He pushed it further, making you suck. 

“My dirty girl,” he purred. “Where else do you want my fingers?”

You smiled, took his free hand, and guided it to between your legs. He hummed and grabbed your fleshy mound. Then, he removed his finger from your mouth and replaced it with his lips and hot tongue. When he was satisfied with the amount of your saliva he’d collected, he pushed the small dining table back, knelt to the floor, and lifted your emerald green sundress.

You froze and clamped your thighs shut.

“Shouldn’t we go inside, Ben?”

His hungry eyes met yours. He squeezed the soft fabric between his fingers and proceeded to lift your dress until it stopped at your knees. 

“No.”

He placed a hand between your knees to space them apart but you kept them clamped shut.

“What if somebody sees us, Honey?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he said with shortness. “I’m not waiting another second to taste you.”

You exhaled. Your clit perked up, but Ben was still. His eyes still on you and the skirt of your dress still scrunched between his fingers. 

“I don’t care about your size, Y/N. You know that,” he said.

“I know you don’t,” you started. “But, sometimes, I do.”

Ben released your dress and rubbed your clothed legs. “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Sure, Baby,” you responded, running your fingers through this hair.

“For me--just this one time--let me fuck you right here,” he requested. You swallowed, but before you could speak, he continued. “I want to see your pussy clench when the cool air hits it, then feel it melt when I wrap my lips around your clit...”

He tugged at the skirt of your dress again. “I want to see the sky behind you when I hold your legs in the air.”

Your knees weakened and your ass began to sink into the sofa. Ben pushed your skirt to your thighs and pulled your panties down.

“No more underwear this weekend,” he demanded. He balled your panties up, stood up, leaned over you, and threw them out in the ocean. Then, he fell back to his knees and pushed your heavy legs back.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you fell back on the sofa. You jumped at the feeling of cool air on your moistening pussy and bare thighs. Ben rubbed his fingers up and down your ass and reached up to pull the sandals off your feet. 

“I want to see how your skin glows under a sunset when I’m making you come...”

Ben gripped the back of your right knee with his left hand and rubbed circles over your ever-spreading labia with the pads of his right fingers. You moaned for him--moaned for yourself. Your mind relaxed as your nipples awakened. 

“Is your pussy as juicy as it looks?” he asked.

You threw your head back, now a complete goner. Suddenly, you felt a quick sting on your pussy lips, making you gasp. Your head shot up and you looked beyond your belly and into Ben’s fierce eyes.

“Answer me.”

You nodded profusely. “Yes, Baby. It is. Get a taste, Baby. Please.”

“Mmm...” he said, his index and middle fingers retreating from the others to rub deep into your slit--the crevice keeping your plush pussy lips together slowly drifted apart as your clit poked through them. He slid the two fingers over your wet clit--the insides of his digits stroking the soft bud, and the outsides stroking the warm inner flesh of your labia. Finally, he turned his palm up, pushed his middle finger inside of your welcoming hole, and trailed the very tip of his tongue from your opening to the pointed end of your edible rose.

“Oh, God...” you whispered. 

Ben took his time--licking every centimeter of your delicious pussy--slurping, sucking, smelling--burying his nose inside to get it sticky. You were helpless under him--pussy melting, ass cheeks sticking together with sweat and arousal. Ben would look up to see your contorted face--your breasts jiggling every time you moaned or groaned. He glanced at the orange sun setting behind you, smiled, and returned his focus to his task. When you grabbed his hair, he pulled away.

“I want your first orgasm from me to be on my dick,” he said, unbuttoning his pants. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him. Once Ben’s pants and boxers were on the floor, he sat on the sofa and gestured for you to come toward him. “Get on top.”

You froze again. 

“Ben, I don’t--”

Suddenly, his long arm reached out and his hand was around your wrist. He yanked you close--your face nearly falling into his lap. 

“Don’t be disobedient, Princess,” he said. You exhaled, and as fast as you could, climbed onto your knees, hiked up your skirt, and threw your leg over Ben’s lap to straddle him. He alleviated some of your worry by holding your left ass cheek in his hand, and his dick with the other. With his help, you slowly sank on his length. He stared at you the entire way down--patient, but hungry. He seemed to have an aversion to showing too much emotion, but you saw his eyebrows scrunch when your hot walls stretched for him--when he felt just how slick you were.

“That’s it, Gorgeous,” he mumbled. He bit his lip and smacked your ass. “Now, bounce on it. That’s your dick...”

You lifted your hips and fell back down with a pained-but-pleasured moan. 

“Give that tight pussy what it needs.”

“Fuck!” you shouted, picking up your pace.

Ben’s hands rested on the bottom of your ass as it jiggled and bounced in the salty, aqueous air. “Shit! Yes! God! Fuck! Ahh!” a chorus of obscenities you sang out to the sky--so loud, so free that the few remaining clouds parted so that the praise of your own pleasure could be heard by the naughty sector of angels. 

You covered him in your juices. Your flesh clapped against his. He’d ripped the bust of your dress and licked the sweat off your breasts. You pulled his hair. You called him Baby, he called you Princess. You screamed “yes!” he grabbed your throat to momentarily trap the sound. The heavens couldn’t have all of your “yeses”--your body needed to absorb some of your beautiful sounds, too. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered--your fingers falling to your clit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you shouted as your clit turned to mush under your fingers--gushing and clenching around Ben’s girth. Your head flew back and your eyes crossed as you rode out your wave. When you came to, you recognized Ben’s grazes against your flesh. 

After a quick, hot kiss, you climbed off his lap and he bent you over the sofa. He sucked at your juice and swallowed sticky cream. And as you observed the waters part for the heavy boat, you felt your walls part once more. Ben buried himself deep inside of your sensitive pussy and leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“You feel so good,” he said. He dragged out of you and slipped back inside. You turned your head in his direction and he found your lips and kissed you with passion--with fire. Then, he slammed into you repeatedly, chasing his own orgasm. He reached around to rub your clit, hoping to bring you to your second.

“No!” you squealed--squirming away from his touch, but he pressed down harder.

“Yes,” he retorted. “I know you’ve got some more in you. Give me another one.”

Feeling the pressure building inside of you again, you bounced back against Ben’s crotch. 

“There you go,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s it. Take what you want, Princess...take what you want...”

Just seconds after you exploded on his fingers and around his rock-hard dick, you felt him pulse inside of you. After a few more strokes, he stilled his movement--and you felt his warm cum spreading around inside of you--filling you up. 

Ben collapsed on your back but quickly crashed onto the sofa--as did you. The two of you caught your breath, then you finished your dessert and champagne. When the sky was completely dark, you’d gone back inside of the boat, washed, and changed into warmer clothes. Then, you went back out onto the deck, cuddled on your christened sofa to look at the stars. “I saw you in a dream,” he said out of nowhere.

“Hmm?”

He ran his fingers up and down your arm. “I dreamed about you before I met you. That’s how I knew you were my girl.”

You smiled and felt the urge to break up the sappiness before you started to tear up. “A genius and a psychic. Are you strong with The Force, too?”

Ben smiled--something he rarely did. “Don’t tease me when I’m being sentimental, Princess.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. You gazed into each other’s eyes, then Ben gave you another kiss and pulled you closer to him. ______________________ Thank you to @bluestarego @ellelaconi @xxcatrenxx @millenialcatlady @mariesackler and @clydes-hole for helping me out with this one!

[peeterparkr]

burnt|dick grayson.

So here’s the highly requested part two for Still Burning. There will be part three. 

summary: dick and you used to date, but there are still feelings for each other 

part two

pairing: dick grayson x titan!reader

warnings: angsty, fluffy, swearing

word count: 3k

special thanks to @ymeradonnadx​ for helping me out with this. love you girl

read part one here

wanna be tagged on my dick grayson fics? 

Burnt. 

It’s funny how fire works. It spreads. It gives light, but it is never seen as something remotely good. It leaves ashes. And you were walking through them, trying to find the reason as to why someone a) had lit up a fire and b) had it put it out as quick. 

There can be lights that can be sparkled, but sometimes we prefer darkness over any kind of burning fire. It makes sense, to avoid it. In a certain way. 

Dick liked to avoid you, at least. And he had left just after making you feel everything with that stupid dance. And you felt like you were back at 17, nobody understood what had gotten into you. 

A dance. 

He blamed alcohol. You blamed him. 

But he had left. And this wasn’t the first time he’d left, it seemed to you any time you were getting remotely close to each other he’d turn and back away and leave, like when he had on your 21st birthday. 

And it stung like a memory you’d never forget. And it hurt, to think that maybe he felt the same way you did, but he did nothing but push you away. 

Every single day he’d keep pushing you, and pushing and pushing you away over and over again. With small things, like in the mornings where you’d try to say hello and he’d turn cold. How he talked to everyone in the room but you and how any time your eyes landed on him he’d turn stiff. 

You had talked one time. And you knew he wasn’t feeling well either. He had woken up at 3 am and he’d gone to the roof, but you were there, too. You loved being at the roof, staring at the stars. 

“Can’t sleep, huh?” He asked, he had two beers. Maybe he had known you were there, too. 

You shrugged as you took a sip of the beer. “Never been good at that.” 

He chuckled. “Yeah, I remember,” but he turned stiff. “Light sleepers, both of us.” 

“Yeah,” you turned to him. “What about you?” 

“A lot on my mind,” he admitted. “It’s just like I’m 22 again.” 

You shrugged. “Yet it comes to you again, the choice.” 

“Does it?” 

“I know my answer,” you shrugged. 

He sighed. “It wouldn’t work.” 

“What wouldn’t work? Talking about it?” You frowned. 

“Well, do you want to?” 

“I guess I miss the good things, you know? I miss Donna,” you admitted. 

“We were a good team, weren’t we?” He asked. 

“Yes, we’re not that good when we’re apart,” you chuckled. 

“Donna said she felt out sometimes,” Dick said. 

You grinned. “I mean, we were very annoying.” 

He chuckled. “We weren’t, we were...adorable,” he grinned. 

“From the moment we met, I mean, we were always in a rush and we enjoyed the silence,” you grinned. 

“We did, didn’t we? Always sneaking everywhere…” 

You smiled. “I’ve kept it a secret, too.” 

“You have?” 

“Yeah, no one deserves to know we’ve got the world record in loving each other,” you grinned and he blushed. 

“I remember everything,” he declared. “Our first kiss.” 

You took a sip. “You stole the batmobile that night.” 

He laughed. “I can’t believe I asked if I could kiss you, so proper.” 

You nudged him. “Those are pretty cheap, you know,” you gushed. 

“What? Kisses?” 

You winked at him. “Wouldn’t kill you to shut me up with one of those once in a while.” 

He smirked as he laughed. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? I thought you were going to do it while we were dancing.” 

“Me? Please, only because you were begging me to do so.” 

“Would it be such a sin?” He laughed. 

You shrugged. “I mean, I felt young again, happy but I can’t really see the good things because then I remember everything that happened afterwards.” 

“Afterwards…?” 

You bit your lip. “I can’t let you hurt me again, Dick Grayson, when you broke my heart,” you scoffed. “Boy, you really got me.” 

He looked down. 

“It was days and days of crying, staring at the ceiling, wanting to find a reason why, I remember just not… Being clear, days were grey, and for me to say that about Gotham,” you chuckled dryly. “I was drowning.” 

He gulped. 

“No, I’m serious, I was such a mess, days were senseless, nights didn’t come and when they did, I couldn’t even go to sleep. No sun, no… nothing. What had I done wrong?” 

Dick bit his lip. “I’m really sorry.” 

“I got over you, don’t worry, Donna was there for me, every day,” you chuckled. “I’m at my best right now, ain’t it?” 

Dick looked down at his beer. “At least one of us did.” 

You coughed, nervously. “Well, why did you break up with me, then?” 

“I was protecting you,” he said. “Still am,” he admitted. “Did you listen to what you just told me?” 

“But I never said you hurt me before that-” 

“I… I realized stuff, alright?” 

You scoffed. “Fine you want to be dramatic and edgy and shit? Alright, go on  up that bullshit, but you know damn well that we were alright until you decided we weren’t. That whole you deserve better bullshit? C’mon Dick, you broke up with me for a reason and until I figure out what exactly-” You stood up. “We can’t really talk about anything.” 

“I had a reason.” 

“Really, what was it?” 

“Does it matter now?�� He sighed. “We moved on.” 

“Did we, really?” You questioned him. You sighed. “Look, I can’t… I can’t really have this conversation right now, not when I-” 

“When you what?” 

“What happened that night?” You pushed. “What happened when we danced?” 

Dick gulped. “I… well, I don’t know we were drunk.” 

“Keep telling that to yourself, Richard, maybe you’ll end up believing it.” 

You hadn’t talked since. 

And somehow, it made you want him more, because it seemed challenging but it was tiring knowing that it was one sided. How could you ever still be in love with him when he clearly didn’t want anything to do anymore? 

But really, in this situation, Dick couldn’t be avoiding you. 

You had been...Patrolling. It calmed you, in a way. It was a thing you’d gotten from Gotham, you guessed, in such a mess there was nothing more but to join it and find calm on it. 

You liked watching from the rooftops, now far from Gotham. No city was as chaotic. But it seemed that wherever you and the Titans stepped in, trouble was found. 

You had heard it, and you were walking through the remains of a battle that had gone through your eyes. Who would burn a department store? 

You walked through the mannequins, as Dick followed behind you. You knew he’d be here too, you both had that annoying habit of listening to the police operation. Both of you could rely on it, detectives. 

“There’s no sense in burning the place down,” he commented. “Not the way it was done.”

“Spark a fire and leave? I’d heard that before, I’m not surprised,” you sassed as you stared at the ripped clothes on the floor. 

“So you think it’s normal?” 

“Probably some stupid teenagers, drunk, and having fun. Look at it, there’s no sense of greed or corruption, no violence, it’s a crime for sure…” 

“But not a passionate crime, yes, I…” Dick nodded. 

“There are no patterns, nothing, it seemed like some kids were only trying to spark a fire for fun,” you sentenced. “Always a fire.” 

Dick nodded. “I’ll get the reports made and then,” he gulped. “We’ll...Yeah.” 

He knew you loved speaking in between the lines.

And he was gone again. 

And he had been. And it got grudgier, somehow. He’d avoid you more and more, avoid the rooms you were in, pretend to not listen whenever you spoke. Dick was trying too hard to put out the spark he had caused in you. 

You’d find yourself trying to not wrap your head around it. Because he was getting colder, how can someone light a fire and be so cold. 

And you didn’t want to understand why he was acting that way, you didn’t even try to push it. You just ignored it, because this was him. This was him being the big dick he was, that’s who he is. 

But you knew he couldn’t help but be adorable. 

The city was in ruins, however, lights were out and you had to use candles, all around your place. But it was fine, you loved the candlelight, and you loved darkness. Maybe you’d learned that from Dick, to love the night. 

There were a lot of things you’d got from Dick. You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t marked your life. It showed, from the way you dressed to the way you’d patrol all nights. Dick was a part of you. 

Too bad he didn’t want to be part of it anymore. And the Titans had noticed, but they hadn’t really asked about it. 

Until Kory did. 

“How long will you both keep acting like children?” She asked, joining you in the kitchen, you had some candles lighting up the room, but you remained in your darkness. 

“What?” You faked ignorance. 

“Look, I am not really aware of your situation with him, but you ain’t fooling nobody, clearly there was something there and if you two were adults you’d talk it out and not do that shit.” 

“It’s complicated,” you admitted. “With Richard, honestly, everything is complicated.” 

“You think?” 

“Dick isn’t someone who stays, you know,” you said. “Dick likes danger, and he likes challenges.” 

Kory raised her eyebrow at you. “So what? You guys clearly have the hots for each other, hook up once and that’s it.” 

You looked away. “That would make it more difficult.” 

“So are there feelings involved?” 

You wrinkled your face. “A long time ago, maybe. Maybe there is just a slight spark there still.” 

“I’d know that it takes only a spark to cause a fire,” Kory scoffed. 

“I— Dick,” you sighed. “It was a mistake. It was one when we were young and it’s a mistake now.” 

“You love him, don’t you?” 

“Sometimes we fall in love with the wrong people,” you sighed, looking down. “You can think you’re in love and then you realize, you’re only in pain.” 

Kory was watching you, analyzing what you were trying to say. 

“It sounds stupid, honestly,” you shrugged. “Him and I? He’s… pun intended kind of a dick sometimes, and I’m— I am crazy, ain’t I?” 

Kory chuckled dryly. “Aren’t we all?” 

“But with us, it was always a problem, either me giving too much or him not giving at all,” you bit your lip. “We were always so immature, and we ran out of excuses, you know?” 

“What went wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you conceded. “I’d love to know. It was all so… spontaneous. Dick likes to take control and with us—neither of us could take control.He blamed Gotham, Batman, and he even blamed me, saying it was for the best.”

“He said that?” 

“I guess we're both so immature when it comes to each other.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” 

“I don’t know if we were in love, or something worse,” you sighed. “Whatever it was, we were meant to fall apart.”

“Do you miss him?” 

You took a deep breath. “I guess, a bit,” you confessed. “I can only wonder if he ever thinks about me and just like me, can’t get the thought out of his head, that not even a cold shower will soothe him, even if it’s—senseless you know? Even if he claimed our relationship was the biggest mistake, I want to know that it was the one mistake he doesn’t regret.” 

Kory stared at you with a side smile, she sighed. “Girl. I truly don’t know what to tell you.” 

“Everything’s been said before.” 

She shrugged. “I know only that you should cut the bullshit and go for it.” 

You scoffed. 

“I know something about him, he likes to take care of people,” Kory admitted. “He is always protecting you the most.”

“But that is bullshit, he said he broke up with me because he wanted to protect me,” you explained. “Where did that lead us?” 

“Tell him then, to cut the bullshit, he clearly has feelings for you.”

A door was opened and you heard a laugh coming from Rachel, probably. Dick, Gar and Rach had been out. Probably another way of Dick to avoid you. Kory just stared at you as they joined you in the kitchen. 

Dick didn’t even give you a glance. 

“Did they figure out what happened?” Asked Kory. 

“Teenagers were playing,” Dick explained. “Y/N—“he coughed.”she was right.” 

You watched him as he had turned around. “What happened, then?” 

“They were playing with candles.” 

You nodded. “Told you, accident, not a crime.” 

Dick didn’t even look at you. 

“Yeah, could’ve happened to anybody,” Rachel said, as she opened a bag of chips, Gar ran over to pop some into his mouth. “Even to us, like right now that we don’t have any lights, or that day you both were messing around with the candle and dancing.” 

You and Dick gave each other a glance. 

“What was that about huh?” Gar questioned. “I’ve never seen you that close, you guys even seemed like friends.” 

“Dick is friends with nobody,” you chuckled, playing it as cool as possible, but you felt like your stomach was burning up. “But—We used to be some sort of friends, weren’t we, Dickie?” 

He gulped. “Yeah.” 

“What happened? You barely talk now….” Rach pointed out. 

“And that’s a great way to put them on the spot, Rach, Gar, come on, let’s leave so they can talk it out, figure it out and then when they’re done I’m sure y/n will pay us the favor by telling us everything,” Kory said as she stood up, ushering Gar and Rachel to leave with her. Dick closed his eyes. “We’re leaving,” Kory announced. “You have the whole house to yourselves!” 

You chuckled, sightly. Just as he was about to leave the room as well, you called him out. “You can’t keep running from it, you know, Grayson, I’m not like all the other parts of your past.” 

He stopped by the doorframe. “I know that.” 

“Are we supposed to talk about it, though?” You asked as he turned around, finally seeing you. 

“About what? Explaining it  to them? I truly don’t want to change the dynamic here, it’s better if they don’t know,” Dick said. “For the sake of the group.” 

“They don’t have to know, you’re right. But don’t I deserve to know?” You asked, you blew a candle off and picked up the other one, standing up walking over to him. “Do you expect me to act normal when we clearly—still… have unresolved business here?”

He took a deep breath, walking away. “It’s in the past.” 

“Maybe, Grayson, maybe,” you crossed your arms. “But I… You can’t...You can’t keep hiding because you feel like you’re going to hurt others.” 

“Look what happened just as we… As the dance thing happened, you haven’t slept, I haven’t slept, it’s for our own sake.” Dick explained, heading to his room. 

“Oh my god, Dick, no, no, you can’t, I feel like I’m 21 again,” you finally raised your voice, stressed. “Do you see it? Don’t you see it?” 

“I…” 

“Get yourself on my shoes, you walk into my house give me a dozen roses, and then you left! You broke up with me! And… You had me wondering, what did I do wrong? I stayed up days, nights, gosh, Grayson, I couldn’t…And I was such a fool! Waiting for you to come back with another dozen roses to take me back.  I didn’t understand it, but you know what I do, now! It’s you! You are the problem!” 

Dick just watched you. “I was too dangerous-” 

“And so am I, we’re both… I’m not proud of things I’ve done, but that’s why we worked, and then you turned into this, whoever you are now!” 

Dick frowned. “And why are you still here?” 

“Because you brought me back to you, Dick, don’t you see it?” You sighed. “You asked me to come with you for a reason, and I came back to you for that same reason.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Dick, you left me there with a broken heart and excuses that you didn’t even understand!” You pushed. “And now you keep ignoring me-” 

And he did what you’d ask him before, he shut you up with a kiss. And it felt like the old times, and suddenly you forgot that you’d stay up each night wondering if he’d come back, you forgot how you’d stay still until the night would fall down on you. And all those lonely days had been erased. 

Because god, how long had you wanted this. And as he pushed you against the wall, and as he ran his hand through your hair, you almost let the candle fall down, but you pulled away. You saw his eyes eating you with lust as he was catching his breath. You blew the candle off as he kissed your neck, peppering you with kisses to your sweet spot on your collarbone. His fingers were tangling with your hair.

And he was coming closer, and closer. And everything was dark, but Dick and you know how to move in the darkness. And even if the candle wasn’t burning, you knew you both were. But, somehow, even if it felt right, burning down the ashes seems wrong. 

But you didn’t care, you needed to feel the sweat running down your body and you needed his lips covering you with tattoos. But there’s a part of you that wanted Dick to feel the way you’ve felt before. 

“Meet me in the bedroom, I’ll be there in five,” you whispered in his ear, and he leaves, eagerly. But you didn’t join him in the bedroom, you left the house, knowing damn well you’d get burnt if you play with fire.

read part one here

wanna be tagged on my dick grayson fics?

[liliesoftherain]

hiii 💕 if u r interested could u do 52 and 58 prompts (can i kiss u smth like that and are you flirting with me?) it could be about y/n having a crush on bakugo (he likes her too) but she flirts way too much on him (in front of everyone at the dorms) in the weirdest moments (middle of class, 1a watching a movie, eating lunch) but ends in fluff IM SO SORRY IF ITS TOO MUCH TO ASK if u don’t like it i can write another one 😊

A/N: This had me so happy, you have no idea. Thanks for the idea, and you better give me more :b 

Title: Who said pickup lines don’t work?

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

52. “Can I kiss you right now?”58.  “Are you flirting with me?”

Katsuki Bakugou!:

You were constantly getting away with embarrassing him, there were way too many times to count as it was practically a daily occurrence. You were always doing it in the most public places, like in the classroom:

“I’m lost.”

Bakugou looked up to see you hovering over his desk, a confused look on your face as you held your notebook. It was study hall, and Aizawa was fast asleep, leaving people to their own devices. He was originally studying by himself, until you came over to bother him that is.

“Dumbass, why do I care.” He huffed, hoping his face wasn’t spotting a blush as he saw you pout.

“Because you’re the only one who can help me.”

“Tch. Whatever.” He looked back down at his desk as you set your notebook down in front of him, pointing to a-

A picture?

“What?”

“Like I said, I’m lost. Can you draw me the directions to your heart?” 

You pointed at your drawing, in the middle of it it said ‘Your Heart’ in very fancy lettering. 

Bakugou knew that this time his face definitely was heating up as you gave him a big flirty grin. The snickers and coos from his classmates only embarrassed him further as he ripped the page out and exploded it in his palms. 

“I’M NOT GIVING YOU DIRECTIONS TO SHIT, YOU LOSER!”

All you did was sigh and shrug your shoulders, giving him a wink as you grabbed your book in hopes he wouldn’t burn that too.

“Maybe next time, firecracker~”

“SHUT UP!”

Or even during lunch for the entire cafeteria to hear if they were listening. He knew that most likely no one cared, but it didn’t help it when you did something so grand it felt like all eyes were on him.

“Oh Katsuki!” You yelled from across the table, voice so loud that even Bakugou wanted to cringe back from it.

“What do you want now.”

“So, in front of all these witnesses,” You pointed to the lunch table and the rest of the people in the cafeteria, “I need you to do something.”

“No.”

“But you have to! Listen, you’re smart so I need you to answer this okay?” You fluttered your eyes, and Bakugou felt his resolve cracking. You always knew how to get him to do whatever the hell you wanted, he was sick of it.

“What.”

Mina, Kaminari, and Sero started to snicker as you dramatically stood on the table. They must have known about your stupid plan, those assholes.

“SO EVERYONE IS A WITNESS- KISS ME IF I’M WRONG BUT, DINOSAURS STILL EXIST RIGHT?” 

Plenty of eyes found their way over towards the commotion, and Katsuki felt his temper flare. Feeling mortified as you blew a kiss towards him and began to walk closer from atop the tables. 

“STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU LITTLE SHIT!” He got up and sped away, hoping the red on his cheekbones wouldn’t become permanent. He wanted your lips nowhere near his, or so he told himself.

Even times where it was just you two, you never left him alone.

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” You questioned, looking up from the pot of water you set on the stove to boil.

Katsuki, who was cutting some vegetables looked up with a brow raised.

“No?”

“Well then, would you please start. I like hearing your voice.” You smiled while grabbing the noodles.

“NO!” Katsuki snapped his head away from you, putting more force into his cutting than necessary.

“No fair, your voice is too pretty to be kept quiet. Talk to me.”

“S-shut up already! I’ll fucking kick your ass if you keep it up!”

“Could I kick yours back if you do?~”

“LIKE YOU COULD! DON’T TOUCH MY ASS!”

There were times where you weren’t even trying, yet you still somehow managed to get to him. This time in particular is when he couldn’t hold back any longer, and that was the first time you were flustered by him.

It was right after school ended, everyone was exhausted by Aizawa’s intense training at the end of class. Everyone had made their way to get changed out of their uniforms when Bakugou had saw you lingering behind. You looked tired and worn down, having a rough session with Shinsou earlier. Katsuki was annoyed the entire time you were fighting, not because he thought you couldn’t handle yourself, but because you seemed distracted and were taking more hits than you should have been. 

Without even realizing it himself, he stopped to bend down, pretending to tie his shoes as he waited for you to catch up. Once you were by his side you looked down at him with a frown, what the hell was this?

You were always smiling at him.

“What the hell is up with you?” He huffed, standing to his full height.

“I’m just.. Tired, sorry.” You shrugged, bringing an arm to rub the side of your neck, looking away.

Katsuki just stared on in worry, although if anyone told him he was worried he would blast them into oblivion, because Katsuki Bkaugou was never worried.

“Tch, then get more sleep. You can’t keep getting your ass handed to you like that. Got it?”

You smiled, or well you tried to. It was small and didn’t seem to be real, and Bakugou felt a bit hurt cerep into his chest. He looked away as quickly as he could, hoping you didn’t notice the upset look in his eyes.

You hadn’t been pestering him lately and he was growing annoyed. You weren’t being yourself, and he had this nagging feeling he didn’t understand tugging on his heart. 

Picking up the pace to get away from you, he didn’t think you’d try to so hard to catch up to him.

“Bakugou-ooh!” During the match, Shinso had delivered a hard blow on your left knee, and now that you were rushing to keep up with your crush, your body wasn’t ready for the pressure. Along with the blow, and still being so tired from your match, you moved quicker than your body wanted and your knee gave out.

Katsuki quickly turned to see you tumble forwards, so he stuck out his arms to catch you before you fell face first onto the floor. You stumbled a bit more, but his tight hold on you held you up, allowing you to steady yourself in his arms. They were wrapped around your waist, holding on just enough to not be painful. You could feel his chest underneath your palms as they pressed against him, and you couldn’t help the slight blush at the thought of how strong it was. He looked far too handsome right now, and your gaze was stuck on him.

 His beating heart quickened as you looked up at him, your eyes were blown open wide and sparkling from the setting sun that was filtering through the large windows. It caused his breath to hitch as your lips parted open in awe, a light blush across your own cheeks. 

“Oh Katsuki.. I think I’m falling for you.”

Normally he’d fight you, push you away and yell at you for being ridiculous as always, but right now you were too beautiful to look away from. You smiled up at him, and it wasn't the same flirty smile you always teased him with.

No, this was a genuine smile that he’s never seen before and he couldn’t help but look at your lips.

He knew what that feeling had to be, he missed you. Your flirts, your presence, but most importantly;

That’s the smile he’s been missing all day long.

He couldn’t help it, the urge to speak was too strong and so he just followed through.

“I’ll sweep you off your feet for the rest of my life if you keep looking at me, just like this.” 

Your mouth dropped open, red roses blooming across your cheeks as your breath caught in your throat. He was just looking at you so intensely, like if he was absolutely lovestruck. You didn’t know what to do, so you just stuttered.

“W-what? I-I.. huh? Are you flirting with me?” This seemed to snap him out of his own daze, because his cheeks then matched yours as he backed away from you. Hands crossed over his chest as he yelled at you.

“W-WHAT!? YOU NERD, I DIDN’T SAY SHIT! YOU’RE HEARING THINGS! GO AWAY ALREADY.”

“But you said-”

“I DIDN’T.”

“Did you mean it?”

“I DID!”

“Really?” You bite your lip, happiness coursing through your body at the sight of his flushing face.

He eyes screwed shut while letting out a sharp breath, opening them slowly but keeping his gaze on the ground.

“I.. I did. I.. I fucking like you okay?”

“I like you too Katsuki, really really!”

“I hope so, otherwise I’d kick your ass for leading me on with those terrible liners.” He clicked the roof of his mouth with his tongue, uncrossing his arms to shove them into his pocket instead. 

You just giggled, closing in on him to wrap him into a hug. He went ridgid, not sure what to do, but calmed down as he heard your voice.

“They’re only for you, no one compares to you.”

“Damn straight.”

“Oh, hey.. Can I kiss you right now?”

“Damn straight.”

Later that night, back in the dorms, you were sitting on the couch, with your now boyfriend, when your phone buzzed. Pulling it up you saw a text from Kirishima.

“What does he want?” Katsuki huffed, receiving a text from the boy as well.

You opened the message and couldn’t help but smirk.

“Looks like he had a present for us, damn there must be something wrong with my eyes ‘cause I can’t keep them off of you in this picture. Who knew you could look this cute.”

Katsuki slammed his phone on the couch, jumping off while screaming out into the dorms.

“SHITTY HAIR!”

You only looked back to the picture, your heart squeezing happily as you did. It was from earlier, he must’ve been spying. It was after Katsuki hugged you right after your kiss, and while you couldn’t see his face at that moment, you could see it in this picture clearly.

You swore to yourself you’ll see it in person one day, the smile on his face was the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

[namfine]

⦿ | 𝕲𝖚𝖑𝖆 : 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕟𝕕𝕦𝕝𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 | ⦿

gluttony is the over-indulgence and over-consumption of food, drink, or wealth items.

                                         - - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

β pairing: kim seokjin x reader

β word count: 5.3k

β summary: your boyfriend’s mastery of the kitchen is a pleasant surprise. he loves watching you enjoy the food he makes for you, and he has you eating out of the palm of his hand- literally. when a cute little game turns into something more sinister, can you handle the heat, or do you need to get out of the kitchen?

β tags: 18+/smut, bts smut, seokjin x reader, reader insert, boyfriend jin, blindfold, strip game, food play, oral (f + m receiving), light breath play, ripping clothes, unprotected sex (pls stay safe kids), lite monster fucking?, demon au

β part: 2 out of 7 of our seven deadly sins milestone challenge

⋫ link to master list here

β a/n: heya everyone! hope you enjoyed zesty’s first chapter yesterday! we’re diving a little deeper into the next sin. things will continue to unravel from here, so be sure to stay tuned because we will be releasing a chapter every day this week! please go to the masterlist linked above to see the rest of the chapters- you’re definitely going to want to read these bad boys in order. thanks luv, enjoy!

love, ya girl minty ✧

Jin’s front door opens, and a wall of aromas smack right into you. The scents flying into your nose whisk you away to a faraway shoreline, where the fresh breeze is hinted with a little bit of the ocean’s saltiness. The bright smell of lemon and the rich smell of wood chips fill you with delight, and your stomach churns at the thought of what he’s prepared for you. 

You have been seeing Jin for a couple of months at this point, and he had finally, finally offered for the two of you to have a special dinner at his house. You’d been dreaming of taking it further with him every time you had been out with him, but he was a very classy guy, not that you were opposed. He had been intent on the two of you taking time with your budding relationship. Though you had spent hours flushed at your daydreams of him between your legs, eager for him to just get down there already, you allowed your desire to build inside of you. When you were finally allowed to let the dam burst, you wanted it to be a flood.

 He is easily the dreamiest guy you’d ever seen in your life. He’s tall. He’s got the most gorgeous set of lips. His laugh is just ridiculous enough to be endearing. When you’d hugged him goodbye at the end of these last several dates you’d been on, his strong and broad shoulders rippling under your arms had your knees weakened and crumbling in moments. He’s incredibly handsome, and he knows it. 

And you love it.

You’re plucked back to reality when you catch Jin looking you over, slowly up and down, taking in every inch of your form with his hungry eyes. His eyes are much darker than you remember, but it could just be a trick of the light. Tonight, they look like they’re churning with something mischievous. He’s also never been so bold about checking you out before.  Perhaps there is a hope there’s more to his menu tonight than just food. 

“Come in from the night, beautiful,” he says, reaching for your waist and helping you in his front door, “you’re right on time; everything is just about ready.”

You’re glad to come indoors, too. The sun had just barely fully set, but it had already turned cold. He gently shuts the door behind you as you take off your shoes, and for a moment, a waft of something sharp hits your senses. It smells a little like something is roasting, maybe broccoli, judging by that slight sulfur tang.

“What smells so good, Jin?” you ask flirtatiously as you follow him into the kitchen. You take a seat on the stool at his kitchen island and watch as he begins stirring something in a large pot ever so gently. His dress shirt sleeves are rolled up over his forearms, and taking in the sight is stirring something within you. 

“I’ve got one pretty big lobster finishing up in that pot next to me, and this one I’m stirring has the pasta. I’ll be adding the meat to the lemon butter sauce in that pan there, and then I’ll toss it with the capellini which should… just… be… about… done?” he says, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he whisks out a steaming noodle and slurps it into his mouth, leaving his perfect bottom lip slightly damp. God, you want his mouth on you so badly, you feel like you could die.  “Mmm,” he says, “al dente,” and you can’t rip your eyes off of how his lips move when he speaks. It’s almost as if his words came out in slow motion. That’s how mesmerizing this man is. If there wasn’t a steaming pot in front of you, it would be so easy to just lean across the counter and kiss him, to finally feel his lips on yours, to hold onto his shoulders as--

“Wanna try?” he asks, breaking you from your devilish thoughts. You find his hand itches away from your lips, offering you a noodle that is hanging delicately off of his pointer and middle fingers. You swallow hard before opening your lips and wrapping your mouth over his fingertips, using your tongue to secure the noodle before pulling yourself off. You dared to look up into his eyes, desperately hoping that he would understand your verbal message. You needed him to know how badly you wanted him. His eyes flashed with something incomprehensible, something that looked like, for a moment, wild anger, and you quickly avert your gaze and really hope he wasn’t turned off by your eager advancement. Just as you mentally scold yourself, it hits you again. That smacking smell of sulfur, for just an instant.

“Is there broccoli too?” you ask, trying to play off your daring move. “I thought I smelled some when I walked in.”

“No broccoli, just a summer salad for a side,” he says casually, looking back across his shoulders as he drains the pasta in the sink, steam rising. “I hope that doesn’t disappoint you,” he adds with a little bit of his odd laugh, “I’ve never heard of anyone being upset at a lack of broccoli.”

“No, it’s fine,” you laugh as he turns back to the stove to grab the other pot with the lobster, “I just swore I could have smelled it. Either that or maybe boiled eggs? Maybe for the salad?” 

He turns back to the sink to drain out this pot, and you see three large bright red-orange lobsters fall out into the colander. 

“Nope, not that either, I’m afraid,” he says as he carries the lobsters onto his wooden cutting board and begins the de-shelling process. “The salad is a mix of field greens and spinach with candied pecans, sunflower seeds, sliced strawberry and mandarin oranges, topped with a simple vinaigrette. No egg in sight, my dear.”

You hear a patter and a tinkling sound from his hallway and moments later, a little black and tan miniature pinscher trots out. 

“Jin! I didn’t know you had a dog,” you say, reaching down to let the little guy sniff your hand. He seems unimpressed and hops onto the lounge chair just in the other room.

“Name’s Spot. I got him as a guard dog.”

You glance over at the small pup curled up on the chair and snicker. “There’s no way he’s a guard dog. He’s so cute and tiny!”

Jin laughs a little, “He gets the job done. Alright!” Jin exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Dinner is ready! Go get comfortable,” he says, gesturing to the table, “I’ll bring you your plate.”

Wow, you think, he’s really going over the top with this dinner. You seat yourself and take in how beautifully the table’s been set. Two matching sets of sparkling white dinnerware on either side of the table, and in between, two small candles sit, waiting to be lit. There’s a beautiful clear glass bottle of still water and a very expensive looking white wine to your left. You pick up the wine bottle and give it a look. LaVeyan Vineyards. You’ve heard that name before, but you can’t quite place it. 

You glance back up at Jin who is skillfully plating your food, before glancing over to Spot who is sleeping soundly on the chair. You nearly drop the bottle of wine in your surprise, because there are three dogs on the living chair. You forcefully shut your eyes, only to open them and still find the three dogs still there sound asleep. Just as you’re about to turn and call over to Jin, he sits your plates in front of you and caresses your shoulder, interrupting your gaze from the growing dogpile. When you look back, there’s just the one little snoring pinscher again.

“What is it?” he asks, concern lacing his voice as he rubs circles on your shoulder. “You look like you might be nauseous.”

“No, I’m fine,” you say, “I just must be really hungry.”

“Well, then, enjoy!” Jin says, watching you intently as you take a generous first bite of your salad. The taste is nothing like you’ve ever had before. The sweet nuttiness of the pecans, the crispness of the fresh spinach, the crunch of the sunflower seeds and the tartness of the orange and vinaigrette swirl together and overwhelm and consume you. You melt away, feeling like you and the food are one. 

Sometime later, the wine is gone and your plates are clean. There’s not a drop of sauce or dressing left. You’ve never been so full in your life, even still, you long to eat more.

“Jin, this has to be the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I can’t believe you made this.”

“Only the best for you. But I do hope you have room left, because I think it’s time for… dessert.”

“Dessert?”

“I’d like to play a little game with you. You’re going to close your eyes, and I’m going to feed you something. Using only your taste and smell, you have to tell me what it is. If you get it wrong, there will be… consequences.”

This piqued your interest. You’d almost fainted when Jin let you eat the pasta off of his hand earlier. You wonder for a moment again if he knows just how weak he makes you. 

“Okay, close your eyes.”

You do as you're told, shaking with anticipation. Your world becomes dark, and you sit there waiting for Jin. Something cool touches your lips, and you part them a little bit to allow the food in. It’s a slightly conical shape, but there’s no taste to it. 

“Bite.”

As soon as you bite, the familiar flavor bursts onto your tongue. As you chew, the sweet and tangy flavor coats your mouth, and you smile, knowing that you’ll get this one right.

“Strawberry. Easy.”

“Very good. This next one will be a little harder.”

The next sensation to hit your lips is a surprisingly cool and tangy pudding-like texture. It swirls with what feels like a warm whipped cream that’s been toasted. You can taste the little bit of char on the top, and then there's the crunch of something buttery as you chew. This one is definitely more complex, but you’ve had this before. 

“Lemon meringue pie.”

“You’re right again, my dear.”

“You’re going to have to try harder than that, Jin.”

Your eyes remain closed as you feel something smooth and cool graze against your bottom lip. You open wider to accommodate, and as you close your lips around it, you feel that you’re eating off of a spoon. Once the spoon is gone, you’re left with a sweet and spongy mouthful of… something. This one is definitely more difficult. There’s coffee, cream, and chocolate. Some sort of cake texture fights with a fluffy cream for dominance. There’s something familiar about this taste, though. You remember having it several summers ago with your friend Soobin. Where were you? You struggle to bring up the memory. The smell of fresh bread and a summer breeze soars through you. You’re hit with the smell of after dinner coffee, and then you can see a small plate in front of you at the cafe table. You were in Italy, and the dish you had shared with Soobin was…

“Tiramisu.”

“Impressive. Although I was hoping you would get it wrong. Let me try again.”

“You’re on.”

Feeling cocky, you sit there with your mouth wide open. You’re more than ready for his next challenge. 

In slides something warm and sticky, and you feel the juice coat your tongue as you chew. It’s definitely rice; the texture is unmistakable. It’s sweet, tropical, and pudding-like in consistency. A sticky sweet bite of fruit bursts in your mouth. The cold fruit fights with the warm pudding for dominance, and they end up in a draw, mixing perfectly with each other to create something so harmonious, it should be impossible. You’ve never tasted anything like this, and it’s driving you crazy. 

“So, what is it?” Jin asks. You don’t have to be able to see to know he has a smug look on his face.

“Let me have another bite,” you say. He obliges and you’re sent again into the whirlwind of flavor. This time you pick out coconut and mango as those tropical flavors, as the combination dances on your tongue and drives you dizzy.

“I’ve never had anything like this, Jin.”

“Does that mean that you can’t give me a correct answer?”

“Is it… rice pudding?”

“No, it’s not.”

You open your eyes. There’s nothing on the table but your empty plates and the table setting. Where did those deserts come from?

“I have to know what that was. That was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“First… Consequences, my dear,” Jin says, standing from the table. He strides over to you and lifts you up out of the chair by your hands. He leads you out of the kitchen and down the short hallway into his bedroom.

“J-Jin?” you stutter, “what are we doing?”

“Consequences.” he states, sitting you on the end of his bed. As you sink into the soft comforter, he walks to his dresser and retrieves something out of the drawer. He turns back around and presents to you a dull orange blindfold. 

“I didn’t say you could open your eyes yet, so I guess this is the only way I can be sure you won’t peek,” he says, poking his tongue into the side of his mouth. The change in scenery seeps in.

“Are we going to continue… in here?”

“I’d like to… heighten the stakes a little,” he says, towering over you. He holds your jaw delicately in his hand, and directs you to look up at him. “Every time you guess wrong, I get to remove a piece of your clothing.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“And once I have you the way I want you, because you will be getting every answer wrong from here on out, I’m going to eat you up. How does that sound?”

There’s no way you can speak right now, so you just affix the blindfold over your eyes and release a shaky breath.

“Very good. Now tell me, what is this?”

You bite down on something that feels like melon, but the taste is… bizarre. It’s savory, and you feel the ice cold juice run out and coat your tongue. It’s incredibly delicious, but you have no idea what it is. It’s an impossible food. As you chew, it gets more and more complex; flavors of cinnamon and ginger swirl together and then as it breaks down further, you begin to taste… ash.

“Jin, what is this?”

“I’ll take that as wrong answer number one. First, your shirt. I’ve been wondering what your bra looks like all night. I bet you put on your sexiest set, hoping I would see it.”

You had never imagined for him to be this… blunt. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t turning you on further. Him simply feeding you already had you soaked. You feel his hands on your hips, and his fingers dip beneath the hem of your blouse, inching it up and gingerly lifting it over your head, careful to not disturb the blindfold. You hear his breath hitch when your breasts are exposed to the chilly air. He was right, you did put on your nicest bra. The way your simple necklace draped down your cleavage and accentuated the curve of your breast was lighting a fire in him. 

“Of course you have perfect tits,” he mumbles. As you open your mouth to ask him what that was supposed to mean, he gingerly places another morsel on your lips. He must be eager for you to try again. You bite down and crack through some sort of hard coating, and a sticky inside clings to your molars. You chew and chew, trying to decipher the flavor, but really nothing is there. It’s as if you were chewing on air. Only when you swallow, you’re met with the taste of dust.

“Jin, this is getting weird,” you say.

“Do you not know what this one is either?” Jin asks, a slightly teasing tone slipping like honey from his lips.

“It didn’t taste like anything at all, Jin!”

“Are you saying I fed you something bad?”

“No, I-”

“Okay then, sweetheart,” he says, slipping his fingers along the inside of your thigh, dipping just below the hem of your skirt, “I think you know what comes next.”

Your breath hitches as he unzips your side zipper. He takes his sweet ass time with it too, fingers barely grazing your hip as he shimmies the fabric down. Your palms begin to sweat as you reflexively lift yourself up to help him get them off. 

“You are a hungry woman, aren’t you?” Jin questions as you hear your skirt hit the floor. You really wish you could see where he is. You really wish you could see where exactly he’s looking. “I knew you would be a dangerous little thing, but coming into my house, my realm, my domain without the decency to even wear panties?” 

You unconsciously cross your legs and tilt your head away from where his deep voice is speaking from a distance. You can’t see him looking at you, but you can feel it. You can feel the weight of his gaze roaming over your body. You feel utterly exposed, and a little humiliated. You also feel very aroused. As if he can read your thoughts, he speaks again, this time quietly into the shell of your ear.

“You know you came here with one thing on your mind. You’ve been teasing me all night. Look at you, you’re practically shaking,” he says with a small chuckle, “you’re touch starved, aren’t you, my darling?”

His large hands wander down your waist and hips and he grips your thigh, just firm enough for you to feel small bruises forming where his fingertips dig into your flesh. His grip is almost sharp, but that tiny bit of pain only causes you to clench around nothing.

“I did promise to eat you up, did I not?” Jin says, as you feel him getting closer to your bare form. There’s an immense heat radiating off of him, and that drives you to reach out and touch him. His chest is as firm and tight as you’d imagined, but his skin is hot to the touch, almost burning. He slightly winces at the coolness of your touch, but is only emboldened by your engagement. 

You feel yourself being shoved back onto his mattress, and your breath leaves your lungs upon impact. The next thing you know, your legs are being roughly opened, the cool air against your dripping heat causing you to clench again. Jin chuckles darkly.

“I’ve barely even touched you, and you’re already dripping for me,” he says, swiping up your entrance and collecting some of your slick. You hear an obscene popping noise, and as soon as you realize what he’s done, you gasp. The mental image you have of Jin’s perfect lips coated in your slick has to be nothing compared to what he actually looks like right now. There’s a guttural groan, not much more than a low rumble coming from the man between your thighs.

“My dear, the gods knew what they were doing when they made you. They knew you would ruin me.”

Before you can ask, his mouth is firmly on your slit, sucking and nibbling at your folds like a man starved. He grunts into your sopping cunt, hands firm on your legs as he slurps up every last drop of you. Your hands find purchase on his comforter, and you thrust up into him, a silent beg for more. 

His tongue slides inside of you, farther than you think it ought to go, but you’re too far gone reeling in ecstasy to protest. His tongue splits you open as his nose finds purchase on your aching clit, and you’re sent into a silent scream. Your hands race to his beautiful black hair to hold onto him for dear life, wanting to be assured he can’t pull away. You twist your fingers through his soft locks and find purchase on two solid objects protruding from his head. 

You edge closer, begging him not to stop as he struggles to hold your hips in place. His tongue is replaced by two of his fingers, that same sharpness you felt before on your thigh now at your inner walls. He curls his fingers up into the spot that will have you seeing stars, and he finally speaks again. This time, his voice is almost an octave lower, and heavy with desire.

“I can’t wait to taste your orgasm on my tongue. Cum for me, darling. Let me taste all that your sweet pussy has to offer.”

And with that, you come undone.

It’s as if your climax rips through your body and destroys everything in its wake. Your bones feel like jelly, and your mind is torn to shreds. Here, in this time and place, it’s as if you cease to exist for an instant. You are utterly consumed by your orgasm. The pleasure is so great that you forget who and what you are; all you know is that you want more. You don’t even register that you’re screaming until you start to come back down. Your body pieces itself back together, your heartbeat resumes normalcy, and you find your hands still firmly affixed to Jin’s silky hair. 

“I want more,” you say, voice cracking. You’re met with another growl, this time directly on your swollen folds. You get a glimpse for only a moment out of the bottom of your blindfold, and that instance will forever be burned into your mind. Jin is looking straight up at you from between your thighs, slick coating his plump and swollen lips. His irises are no longer the warm chocolate hue you’ve grown to love, but between the few stray strands of hair that has fallen into his face now lie two bright and churning orange eyes. 

“What, one orgasm not enough for you?” the man teases, “I knew you were a hungry woman, but I hadn’t pegged you as glutton for punishment. Are you sure you can handle more of me?”

“Jin, let me be clear: I want you to give me everything you have. I want it all.”

You can hear him exhale deeply as you feel him crawling on top of you. His heat again radiates onto your chest, and intensifies as he comes closer. He’s thrown one leg to each side of you, and his weight on your hips is delicious. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You don’t realize the mess you’re getting yourself in, little one,” he says, almost tenderly, as he grazes your collarbones with his touch.

“I think it is you who will be rendered a mess when this is all over, dear.” you retort, confident in your ability to make him see stars as well.

“Don’t hold your breath,” he mumbles against your ear. “Or… do.” he says and quickly fastens his hand around the base of your neck. Your heart quickens its pace at your lack of oxygen, but you’re determined to hold out. Only when you start seeing spots does he let go and wrap his hands around your body tenderly. 

“I bet you thought I was going to be rather plain when it comes to sex,” he toys. “You thought you were going to come in here and seduce me tonight. You thought you were with an innocent man. You thought wrong. Nothing could be further from the truth, little one.”

The hand that was once caressing your back is now ripping through the fabric of your bra. As you hear the fabric tear, you feel a deep rumble in Jin’s chest. How can anyone be strong enough to tear through the band of your bra?

Maybe you had bitten off more than you can chew.

You hear what you assume to be your bra hitting the floor, and Jin wastes no time in making you putty in his hands again. He is busy placing open mouthed kisses over your chest and down your cleavage, taking special care to remove your delicate necklace.

“You should be more careful with pretty necklaces,” he says into the crook of your neck, biting down there where your pulse point is. You feel something poking against the inside of your leg, and you wonder for a moment when he managed to remove his pants.

“Jin, please,” you beg, your voice lingering on his name, hoping the extra little bit of whine would get you what you want. You feel his cock twitching right at your folds, and having what you desire be so close and yet so far away is the closest thing to actual torture you’ve ever experienced. You start clenching around nothing again each time you feel his cock twitch. You’re still so wet, he could just so easily slip right i-

Your thoughts are cut short as he takes his time inserting himself into your still dripping cunt. You thought it would be frictionless, but clearly he is much... bigger than you’d anticipated. Inch by inch, he slowly sinks into you. The stretch is slightly painful, but the fullness that accompanies it is to die for. His tip reaches your cervix, and you realize that there is still more of him to go. 

He pauses. You whimper.

“I warned you, beautiful,” is all he says before he’s slamming into you over and over again, hitting your cervix and sending waves of pleasure through you. The slight pain fades and all you’re left with is unbelievable ecstasy. You reach up to hold onto his shoulders, desperate for support. You feel the muscle ripple under your touch, as he uses his arms to grab your hips. You don’t remember his hands being this big, but they seem to be able to wrap all the way around your hips. 

In no time, you feel yourself approaching your second high, and you wrap your hands around his back. You want to dig your nails into his skin; you want him to notice the scratch marks you leave and be reminded of tonight. On your way down, you feel a rough patch of skin near his shoulder blades. Like it’s been shredded over and over again. Jin hisses as your hands drape over his scars, and you’re afraid you hurt him, but it’s followed with the deepest groan you’ve heard yet. His hips start to sputter, and you can tell he’s getting close. You scratch down his back once more and you finally get to hear how he sounds when he comes undone. His release triggers your own, and you’re both reeling through your orgasms, panting hard into each other’s mouths.

He pulls out of you with an obscene pop and you wince at the loss of warmth. You sit up, wondering where he’s gone, but in a flash his warm hands are on your shoulders, holding you steady. 

“You think I’m done with you yet?” he asks, “Or is that all you can take? Do you still want more?”

You feel his seed drip out of you, and that sparks an idea. You quickly get onto your knees in front of him and let your hands roam down his torso until you find his cock, still completely hard. You guide his tip to your mouth, and you hear him gasp. You take in just his tip, tasting yourself on him, and let out a moan of your own.

“You know,” you say against the shaft of his cock, “You would enjoy this so much more if I could make eye contact with you.”

“You’re insufferable, aren’t you?” he grunts out as you continue to tease his tip with your tongue. “You’re almost too hot to handle, you know that? I’d be surprised if anyone else can… handle you like I can.”

“Just admit that you’re not strong enough to last long if I take your whole dick and look at you. Or I could just take off the blindfold and you could prove me wrong.”

“Well, well, is that some pride I see?” he asks with a low chuckle, “Oh dear, you’re in for quite a ride, aren’t you? Have it your way, spoiled brat,” he says as he rips the blindfold off.

Your eyes have to adjust to the new level of light, but when they do, you’re met with the most intense stare you’ve ever seen. Jin is staring right through you, right between the stray pieces of hair that’s fallen into his face. His whole body glistens with sweat; his chest is flashing as he breathes. From his parted lips come his last demand, wrapped up nicely in just a single word.

“Swallow.”

You waste no time in showing him what you can do. You alternate teasing his head with taking him as much as you can with some help from your hands. You quicken the pace and hollow out your cheeks as you make eye contact with him, getting lost in his beautiful brown eyes. He tilts his head back and you can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to contain himself. His abdominal muscles clench when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, and you know you’ve got him. 

He told you to swallow, but you don’t think he was anticipating you being able to do this.

You paused, only just to catch his attention and have his eyes back on you. Opening your throat, you ease down every last inch he has, and he fingers through your hair, using it as a hold as he fucks into your mouth. Tears are stinging your eyes as his devilish length hits the back of your throat, but you know he’s close again. 

You hold out until he’s a sputtering mess inside of you, and his cum is like honey on your tongue. You’ve never tasted something so delicious, and you don’t think you ever will again. You wait for Jin to finish, and without wavering eye contact, you look up at him with your best innocent expression, and display your cum covered tongue. You swallow, as instructed, and lay down feeling proud of yourself. 

“You’re going to be trouble, woman,” is all he says before laying down next to you, cock still twitching, eyes closed as he tries to gather himself.

You take this time to scan the room, now only being able to properly see everything. There’s a beautiful painting of two people mid-sex act, and you make a mental note to ask him about it later, because you notice something rather odd. 

You’ve been on your dinner date for maybe a few hours, but according to the sun outside of his bedroom window, it’s the middle of the afternoon. You look back over to the resting Jin to say something, but the reflection of his back in his dresser mirror is… not right. The skin on his back is… cracked. Like a porcelain doll.

“Jin?” you sheepishly ask.

He opens his eyes. 

They’re bright orange.

[wizardofrozz]

Put to the Test

Summary: Rosalia and Bucky meet at a famous Tony Stark party when Rosalia joins the Avenger, but something doesn’t quite feel right.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of implied smut

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

A/N: I’m a little nervous about this series; I love it but I’m anxious about anyone else liking it lol. Also, flashbacks are in italics.

Chapter 1: Well, hello

My eyes fluttered open as the sun peaked through my window across the room. I blinked, feeling unrested and groggy before rolling over check the time: 7:50. I rolled back over, groaning, praying I could fall back asleep for a little longer. I laid in bed for a few more minutes, but my chances of sleeping again were long gone. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes before swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, getting up to stretch. I shivered at the sudden chill in the air; apparently, no one thought to turn the heat on in the compound last night; I rolled my eyes, grabbed sweatpants and a hoodie before heading for the kitchen. I walked through the doorway, and the smell of brewing coffee greeted me, but I didn’t see anyone in the kitchen. I looked around for clues to who else could possibly be awake this early. I shrugged and made my way to a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen and sat down, waiting for the coffee pot to beep, letting me know it was done. After a few minutes, I felt sparks explode across my shoulder and travel down my arm; I gasped, sitting up straighter, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. I knew exactly who was awake at this point and turned in time to see him sit on the stool next to me.

           “Morning, Bucky bear,” I smiled at him. A goofy, groggy grin spread across his face, and his eyes sparkled when he looked at me.

           “Morning doll, what are you doing up so early?” he stretched his arms over his head as he spoke, testing the strength of the tank top he had on as it struggled to keep his broad chest covered.

           “I couldn’t sleep anymore. I slept like shit anyway, so I guess I’ll be making it through the day of caffeine and willpower.” I glanced over at the coffee pot wishing it would brew faster.

           “Well, looks like we might need another pot of coffee. I slept like shit too, couldn’t stay asleep no matter how hard I tried,” he glared at the countertop before glancing up at me.

           “Phantom pain again?” I reached over to touch him but decided against it at the last minute, but he didn’t seem to notice. He answered with a grunt as he rubbed his left arm before sighing and putting his head down on the counter.

           “You’d think after all this time, it would stop hurting. I guess the cold nights don’t help,” he stood up suddenly and walked over to the coffee pot when it finally beeped. He grabbed a cup out of the cabinet, filled it with coffee, caramel sauce, a handful of ice cubes, and topped it off with milk before sliding it across the island to me.

           “Aw, Bucky, you remembered,” I smiled at him as I took a sip and sighed, thank god for caffeine. “Hey, aren’t you going to have some too? You made it.”

           “Yeah, but I’m going to jump in the shower quickly,” he made his way around the island, “don’t drink it all without me.” He smiled and reached out to touch my arm but stopped short, frowned, then cleared his throat and headed for the shower. Once he left the room, I sighed, cursing that damn compromise we made weeks ago. I think back on it periodically; it was over a month ago, my first night at the compound, which happened to be a famous Tony Stark party.

 ***

I was excited; I’d finally get the chance to meet the entire Avengers team after hearing about them from Nat endlessly. Knowing Nat for as long as I have meant that when she was welcomed to the Avengers, I heard all about them until I was asked to join Earth’s Mightiest Heroes too.

           “Hey, you ready?” Nat said from my doorway where she was leaning. “Woah, look at you, these guys are going to lose their mind,” she smiled as she walked in and continued to check out my outfit. I picked out a short sleeve, tight, floor-length, black dress speckled with glitter; I slid on the heels Nat let me borrow.

           “Well, I have to make an impression, don’t I?” I smirked at her before turning back to the mirror to finish putting my earring in.

           “Oh honey, you’re going to leave an impression those men will remember until the day they die.” I laughed as she wandered over to my bed and sat down.

           “Oh, come on, I doubt these guys will be that fixated,” I said as I turned away from the mirror and looked at her.

           “Well, I guess we’ll see then,” she smirked and stood.

           “Okay, so who else am I meeting tonight?” I asked, walking towards her.

           “You’ve met Rogers, Tony, Clint, and Wanda already, so that leaves Peter, Thor, Sam, Bruce, oh and Bucky,” she nodded when she was sure that was everyone.

           “Well, let’s go. I need a drink,” I looped my arm with hers, and we headed for the party. “Wait, who’s Bucky? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention him,” she didn’t answer; she just smiled and led me towards the steps. We walked down the steps, and the party was in full swing by the time we made it there. As we got closer to the bottom, something inside me forced me to look at the middle of the room, where a group of men stood talking; my eyes fell on one of them, at that exact moment he turned his head. His eyes darted around the room; I knew he felt me looking at him, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him no matter how hard I tried. Finally, he looked up at the steps, and our eyes met for a brief moment before Nat snapped in front of my face.

           “Hey, earth to Roz,” I shook my head and looked at her.

           “Sorry, I’m just captivated by all this,” I lied as I smiled at her.

           “Oh, I know, Stark never skimps on a party, but you’ll get used to it. The first party can be overwhelming,” she laughed as we reached the bottom of the steps. She stood on her toes to look over the crowd before grabbed my hand and pulling me with her. “Come on; I see the guys.”

           “Nat, you’re going to rip my arm off,” I laughed as I followed her. We made our way through the crowd before stopping short in front of the group of men I saw from the steps.

           “Hey guys, I want to introduce you to Rosalia, Roz for short. Stark finally managed to get her here.” She turned to me and smiled before introducing them. “This is Thor,” she pointed to a large man standing at the center of the semi-circle of men, he was huge, handsome, and he knew it.

           “Pleasure to meet you, Thor Odinson,” he reached for my hand, bending down and placed a kiss on the back of my hand without breaking eye contact. I assumed I was blushing, but my face never warmed, but I did smile at him.

           “This is Sam Wilson,” Nat pointed to a shorter, handsome man who looked tiny standing next to Thor.

           “Hi, nice to meet you; Natasha talks about you a lot,” he shot me a flirty smile and shook my hand.

           “Then we have Bruce,” this time, Nat touched his arm instead of just pointing. I made sure to make a mental note of that so I could bug her about it later.

           “Hello, Dr. Bruce Banner, Nat has told me a lot about you,” he had a friendly smile, but he seemed very jittery.

           “Then there’s Peter Parker,” I looked at where she pointed and saw a young boy, who could only be about 16, that looked like he just saw an angel.

           “H-Hi, nice to meet you, you’re beautiful,” his cheeks turned red when everyone else laughed, but I smiled at him.

           “That’s very sweet, thank you,” he smiled, and his face flushed a deeper pink before Nat grabbed my attention again.

           “And finally, this is Sergeant James Barnes,” I followed where she was pointing too, and my eyes fell on the man I saw from the steps. His beautiful blue eyes were what caught me off guard, along with how physically intimidating he was. He had broad shoulders, along with massive, muscular arms. I noticed he moved his left arm oddly as he switched his drink to his left hand to reach out and shake my hand.

           “Please, call me Bucky. I haven’t gone by Sergeant in a long time,” he smiled at me and grabbed my hand. The most intense feeling I’ve ever experienced came over me; time seemed to stand still. My whole body felt like it was on fire, but thankfully, not in a painful way, almost comforting. It felt like every nerve ending in my body was firing simultaneously, and the sensation took my breath away. I could tell by the awed look on his face he was feeling the same thing. Finally, we both let go, and reality came rushing back, and we were standing in the middle of the party surrounded by the rest of the Avengers. I quickly looked at Bruce, Sam, Peter, Thor, and Nat, but no one seemed to notice what just happened, but I didn’t have much time before Nat grabbed my arm and pulled me towards to bar.

           “I want a drink. I know you could use one too” luckily, she was facing away from me.

           “You can say that again,” I whispered as I followed her. We ordered our drinks, and I tried to shake off what just happened before Nat started asking questions.

           “So what do you think?” she said as she took a sip of her drink.

           “So do they only hire attractive men,” we giggled before turning our back on the bar. “So, what’s with you and Dr. Banner?” I raised an eyebrow and smirked at her.

           “When I figure that out, I’ll tell you,” she smiled then looked over at Bruce. I followed her gaze and noticed Bucky wasn’t standing there anymore, I started to scan the room, but I didn’t make it far when someone cleared their throat behind me.

           “Can I join you for a drink?” his deep voice sent chills down my spine, but I turned to find Bucky standing behind me. He towered over me by at least half a foot; I glanced back to where Nat was standing, but she was already walking away towards where Steve had walked into the room, throwing a shitty smile over her shoulder.

           “Yeah, I’d like that,” I threw back the rest of my drink. “I could use another if you do,” he smirked and nodded.

           “What’s your poison?” he asked as he leaned closer to hear me over the music.

           “Whiskey on the rocks, please,” I smiled as he pulled back.

           “Oh man, a woman after my heart,” he smirked again and ordered our drinks. We grabbed them off the bar then he motioned for me to follow him to the end of the bar. We stood there for what seemed like hours, drinking and talking until we realized that the party was starting to die down. I don’t know what came over me, but I leaned towards Bucky and stood on my toes to get closer to his ear.

           “Why don’t we continue this party upstairs, my room?” I moved back and winked; a smile spread across his face. He threw back the last of his drink and stretched his left arm out to let me go first. I noticed the odd movement of that arm again but shook it off and headed for the steps that led to my room; I felt him following close behind. We finally made it to the door of my room; I opened it and stepped aside so he could walk in; I noticed that somewhere along the way, he had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He caught me looking and winked as he made his way through the doorway; I looked up and down the hall to make sure no one saw us before slipping into the room, closing the door, and leaning against it. He stood in the middle of the room, and oddly enough, he wasn’t looking at me; he was looking around the room. Bucky must have felt me looking at him because he turned his attention back to me; he smirked and took a few steps closer.

           “You really blow my mind, you know that?” the smile had vanished from his face, but his pupils grew, trying to take in as much of me as he could.

           “No, I didn’t. Why don’t you tell me why Sergeant Barnes?” I moved my face closer as I talked. A low, almost growl came from his chest, causing me to shiver. Our faces were so close that if one of us even twitched, our lips would touch. For a moment, I thought I said something that upset him because he moved away a few inches, but then his lips crashed into mine. The force of his body moving forward pushed me up against the door; his whole body held me against the door. My fingers found the belt loops of his suit pants; his hands settled on either side of my head against the door. The only thing that was off was the insane sensation that tore through me the second our lips touched; it startled me so much I opened my eyes at the same time Bucky did too. I stared into his eyes for a few seconds before he moved back suddenly, and I stumbled forward. I caught myself trying to catch my breath and noticed that Bucky had stumbled back too and was sitting on my bed, with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath too.

           “What the fuck was that?” he said through deep breaths.

           “I was about to ask you the same thing,” I replied, panting. After a few more seconds, our breathing evened out, and I pushed away from the door, moving to the corner of the bed opposite Bucky. “I-I’ve never felt anything like that. Can I assume you’re feeling the same thing I am?”

           “What do you feel?” he turned his head towards me with a concerned look.

           “I-it’s like someone, I don’t know, released hundreds of thousands of butterflies loose inside me, but they are all on fire. Like every nerve ending is ready to explode,” I turned my face away from him, praying that I didn’t just embarrass myself.

           “Wow, that’s a pretty perfect explanation,” he let out a breath that he was holding in and relaxed some before scooting closer to me, just far enough that we weren’t touching.

           “What does this even mean??” my head was spinning; I had no idea what was going on. We sat in silence, stuck in our heads before we both turned and opened our mouths to talk at the same time. We both giggled and looked away before finally looking at each other again; something about him brought a weird feeling over me. He seemed so familiar. “Okay, so what are we supposed to do, Bucky?” I tried to keep my voice even.

           “I don’t know; this may sound weird, and please tell me if it does, but I don’t want this to stop. Something inside me keeps screaming for me to stay here, near you,” Bucky trailed off and looked at the floor. I almost reached out to him, but we needed to get through this conversation without getting sidetracked.

           “It’s not weird because I was thinking the same thing,” his head shot up, and our eyes met. The relief on his face squeezed my heart; he sat up some and turned his entire body towards me, and I did the same. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I don’t want to just shut the door on it either, but we have to try and figure out what it is because, don’t get me wrong, it’s the most amazing feeling, but it’s not normal. The world we live in, Bucky, it makes me worry it’s not innocent,” I sighed.

           “I agree. I want it to be innocent. A sign we are supposed to have met, but I’m not that native,” a frown grew on Bucky’s face, but when he turned his face towards me, he tried to hide how he felt. We both turned our bodies, so we were facing the door again, in hopes of hiding how we felt from the other. “What do we do? Stay away from each other?”

           “I was thinking about digging into S.H.I.E.L.D files and see if I can find anything. Maybe there is a record from our pasts that can shine some light on this,” I moved my hand back and forth between us.

           “Good idea, but does that mean we stay away from each other? Or can we continue where we left off,” he smirked, leaning closer.

           “Sadly, I think holding back until we have some more information would be best, just in case. But when do we just accept it and move on? When is it enough time? I don’t want to wait forever for something that we may never have an answer to,” I had started to wring my hands as I spoke.

           “I wish you weren’t right, part of me wants to argue, but with everything that I’ve seen and been through, I can’t help but worry. Let’s give it a few weeks; if we can’t find anything, maybe we can talk to Bruce and see if he can run any tests, see if anything weird shows up,” he looked hopefully.

           “Okay, deal, keep our distance, no touching or anything, and if we can’t find anything, we’ll go to Bruce. I do think we should keep it to ourselves until we either know something or have to tell someone,” I sighed and looked at the floor, trying to hide my disappointment.

           “Yeah, I think that’s for the best, but do we have to stay away until then? Can’t we meet a couple of times a week? No touching, but I’d like to get to know you,” he looked at me, but I didn’t meet his gaze. Every fiber in my being screamed to say yes, but something still made me feel like I should say no.

           “Fuck it, yeah, a couple of nights a week we can go for a walk or whatever we want and talk. If we find out that it's fine, we aren’t going to turn to dust or some other crazy shit, it would be helpful to know each other,” I smiled. He laughed, I mean really laughed, and nodded his head.

           “Deal,” he said through chuckles. I smiled at him; I yearned to run my hands through his shoulder-length hair, just touch him in some way. As if he read my mind, I felt fireworks explode up my back and down my leg when his hand found my thigh. I didn’t realize how close he was until I turned my head, and our noses almost touched. Every nerve ending in my body was alive, my entire body was on fire, and everything felt incredible. Bucky’s breath on my face felt like pure bliss, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving my hand up to the collar of his open shirt. I ran my hand over Bucky’s collar bone then back to the base of his neck before running my hand up to his neck to his hair. A sound came out of Bucky that was a mix of a gasp and moan; I didn’t realize his other hand was moving up my back until he roughly grabbed the back of my neck. “Sorry, but right now, I don’t care about what we agreed on,” the words came out as a growl. He pulled me to him at the same time as I grabbed a fistful of his hair to do the same. Our lips met, and I felt like I might burst; he kissed me like he might never get to again. I opened my mouth, and his tongue slid in, dancing with mine. I smacked his hand off my leg with my free hand, then pulled myself on top of him, straddling him. Bucky moaned into my mouth before releasing his grip on my neck, running his hands up my legs instead. My body felt like it was vibrating from the constant sparks exploding all over me until I noticed an odd sensation on my right leg. We finally pulled apart, but I touched my forehead to his; the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing.

           “Okay, we have to stop until we know what’s going on,” I weakly giggled as I played with his hair.

           “As much as I don’t want to, I have to say I agree,” he sighed through deep breaths. I opened my eyes and saw that he was already looking at me; I pulled my head back some to get a better look at him as I climbed off him to stand back and admire him. He moved his arms behind himself to hold his weight up; the sleeve on his left arm rode up, and I saw what looked like black metal; I turned my head slightly to try and get a better look.

           “Bucky, what’s wrong with your arm?” I said softly, not taking my eyes off it. For a split-second, fear flashed across his face, but when our eyes met, it disappeared. He stood up and started to unbutton his shirt, and thank god he has a tank top on under it to reveal metal that started at his shoulder.

           “Yeah, I should probably explain this,” he looked at the floor.

***

          “Damnit,” Bucky’s yell snapped me out of the memory. I turned around and saw him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, rolling his left shoulder while rubbing his hair with a towel in his right hand.

           “Goddamn Bucky, you scared the shit out of me,” my breathing steadied again when he pulled out the stool next to me and heavily dropped onto it.

           “Sorry, doll, apparently multitasking isn’t one of my enhanced abilities,” he smiled over at me. I shook my head and finished my coffee just as he decided to shake his head like a dog.

           “Bucky!” I yelled, trying to shield my face from the cold drops of water. He doubled over laughing, holding his side; I punched him in the arm before starting to giggle myself.

           “Okay, shithead, very funny,” I stuck my tongue out at him, which only made him laugh harder.

           “I can’t say I’m sorry because I’m not,” he finally said through giggles. He stood up, still laughing, and went to get himself a cup of coffee, then brought the pot, caramel and milk over to me. “Hey, we haven’t had a chance to have any of our dates this week. Want to go sit outside and talk for a while before we have to get ready to head out for our mission?” he poured our coffee then set it back on the coffee maker.

           “Yeah, I’d like that, as long as you don’t fling water at me again,” I smirked before mixing my coffee.

           “No promises,” he winked. He had already changed into a t-shirt and dark cargo pants, so that was my cue to do the same.

           “I’m going to change quickly. Can take my coffee with you, and I’ll meet you out there?” I asked, handing him my coffee. He nodded and made his way to the front of the compound.

Series Masterlist | Chapter 2

Taglist:

@criminalyetminimal​ @kendallthesimp​ @marvelfansworld​ 

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 25 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 24 here. Part 26 here.

Summary: All right, well, I guess no one's gonna go swimming in that pool, anymore.

Words: 6600

Warnings: cw--a kylorengarbagedump special: tons of graphic violence and gratuitous bloodplay

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: HI, HELLO, what the fuck am I doing! I'd like to give thanks to @faestae and John Wick for this chapter. Without them, I'd be completely fucked. For some reason, I keep writing shit that demonstrates how little I know about writing anything other than sex. Please let me know what you thought! I'm interested to see what people think about this bit.

I love y'all so very much! Thank you for always offering kindness and encouragement. <3

You hadn’t taken your eyes off of your Commander since entering the car, hoping that, if you stared long enough, you’d be able to identify any hint of emotion, any flicker of feeling in his inscrutable expression. But Kylo Ren sat, back against the partition, hands at his sides, a veneer of distance cast over his face. The harder you looked, the further away he seemed--like a void, emptying itself, slowly, of vulnerability. 

“Do you know how long I’ve known your Commander?” said Snoke. You felt his spider-leg gaze crawling over your figure. “Since he was a boy.”

Unsure if you were supposed to respond, you dipped your head in the tiniest nod you could muster.

“And there was a period where he disagreed, you know. With the idea of Gilead. Did you know that?”

Ren was solid, unmoving, staring through the back windshield. He didn’t blink, didn’t twitch. Swallowing, you allowed yourself to peer over at Snoke. He was watching you expectantly.

“Um.” To be fair, you did know that--you just didn’t know to what degree, and for how long. “I didn’t know that, no.”

“Well, it’s true.” His focus drifted back to Ren. “He was so unsure of himself, back then. Couldn’t ever make a decision. Afraid to let himself achieve what he was truly capable of.” A dark, breathy laugh escaped him. “He was so sensitive, so scared.”

There, right below his nose, you saw it--a twinge of muscle.

“But, thankfully, he’s resolved those doubts, now.” A wicked smile twisted through his skin. “Haven’t you, Ren?”

His eyes, like slate, met Snoke’s for a millisecond. “Yes.”

“Yes.” Now Snoke turned his attention to you. “He believes, like I do, in the roles of society. In the order we can provide by enforcing them.” A glance at Ren. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

“Yes.” His back straightened. 

“He agrees with me that Handmaids are one of those unfortunate necessities of society,” Snoke said. “If we had a perfect world, we wouldn’t need you at all.” He shrugged. “For now, both of you have your roles. Separate and equal.” 

Not that nonsense again. It sounded just as repulsive as when it had come out of Ren’s mouth. “I think we’re both more than that.” You peered at your Commander, who observed you with guarded confusion. “More than our roles.”

Snoke’s eyes sparkled with some sick delight. “Really, now.” He looked to Ren. “We have to make sacrifices, don’t we. To ensure our vision survives to the next generation.”

He averted his gaze, nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ve made many sacrifices for Gilead, Ren.” 

Snoke’s hand laid on your knee, squeezing it, red fabric bunching in his skeletal grip. Your throat thickened with fear, your breath stolen. Ren’s chest filled with slow, tense air, his jaw tight. The knife in your sleeve seemed to sear you with its presence--you imagined whipping it out, swiping the button, slamming the blade right into the old man’s wrinkled neck. Instead, you sat there, watching his hand creep higher, your focus switching between his fingers and your Commander.

Do what you wish with it.

If you tried to attack him now, here, in his car, both you and Ren would end up dead. You shoved the urge into the bottom of your brain, chin trembling as the bony excuse for a hand grazed your thigh--Snoke’s eyes were trained on Ren, daring him to move. 

But he did nothing.

A whirr of a winding engine cut through the silence, and Snoke removed his hand--you sagged with relief. He rolled down the window, making a quick motion with his wrist, the limo stopping for a brief moment. Then it pushed forward, past a gated entrance staffed with at least two guards armed with rifles. Fear dug its claws into your chest. 

The limo coasted up a long, winding driveway, up to what you could only define as a mansion, and came to a halt. Snoke glanced at the both of you, popping the door open.

“We’ve arrived,” he said. “Come, now.”

Ren met your eyes for a brief, electric second before he exited the vehicle. Steeling your nerves, you followed, feeling significantly hampered by the rustling of your dress. As you clambered into the sun, you breathed the heavy summer air and glanced over the property.

A white stone gate with the pair of sentries encircled a ring of decorative topiaries, bushels of red flowers poking through the mulched landscape. The driveway looped like a racetrack through the yard, up to the bleached cement plaza that opened to a glittering fountain pond. The center of the fountain was dominated by a marble carving of Jesus on the cross, his head craned toward the sky, water gushing in clear, noisy rivers from his hands and crown. In front of you, the staired entrance led to a grand, columned pavilion that guided you toward the front door, a glass and iron arch with concentric rows of windows radiating out to the walls. 

All of this might have been beautiful, you thought, had you not been a slave, invited with your owner under the pretense of interrogation.

That, and the two guards coming to escort you to the entrance--also armed, of course.

They bookended you in a line--Snoke, Ren, and you--through the front door, into the vaulted foyer, ivory granite floors stretching out into a wide parlor room, light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Through them, you spied the backyard, complete with a glimmering Tuscan-style pool, enclosed also by that same white stone. And more guards marching in assignment.  

Silent, you kept close to your Commander’s heels as you all climbed the one of the two curved staircases, ascending past an enormous chandelier, tiers of glowing crystal casting flakes of light onto your skin. Despite its warmth, at the last step, you fell cold--there were still more riflemen at the top. The guards ushered you down an empty hall to an open door. They stood at either side of the entrance, and, blood escaping your face, you followed Ren and Snoke inside.

Cherry wood-panelled walls wrapped the oval stone floor, a circular Persian rug rolled out underneath a huge teak desk. It was accompanied by a tall Chesterfield throne upholstered in red leather, two smaller, sister chairs attending the sides. Behind the desk, built-in shelves were lined with heavy, hardbound tomes, all illuminated by two sets of double-necked glass sconces at the two ends of the room.

You stood next to Ren, hands strangling each other as Snoke closed the door and wandered around to the head of his desk. His stride was slow, deliberate, crossing the room like it was slick with molasses. Arriving at his chair, he opened one of the drawers, carding through it before pulling out a folder and plopping it on the flat surface. With precision, he plucked a few pages from it, pushing them forward. 

“Do you remember signing these, Ren?” 

Kylo Ren’s eyes flicked between the paper and his superior. “Yes.”

“Your very first acceptance to the order,” Snoke said, gazing at it. “The evidence of your commitment.” He turned his attention to you. “You said that you think you’re more than your roles. But I know that isn’t the case.”

You cleared your throat, spine straightening. “And I know it is.”

“You’d be wrong,” Snoke said. “Because Kylo Ren is a facade. An identity--a role. Just like yours.” He paused, waiting for Ren to react. He didn’t. “Before he was Kylo Ren, he was a lost, lonely little boy. Always winding up in fights. Parents too busy to care.” 

Ren rolled his tongue along the inside of his teeth, but said nothing.

“But I saw potential in him. Didn’t I, boy?” Snoke offered him a small grin. “I could see the greatness, the cunning, the power you could have.”

“You did,” Ren muttered.

“And this is all you’ve become. Your heart hasn’t hardened. You’re soft. You could never hope to be Kylo Ren.” He sighed, and leered at him. “And I’m disappointed to see that this is the case.”

He was silent, chin raising, stare toward the floor.

“You’re still fighting it, aren’t you?” When he didn’t respond, Snoke’s entire face twisted in a frown. “Answer me, boy.”

“I’m not.”

“No?” Snoke opened the top drawer of his desk and produced a massive silver revolver, tossing it on the desk with a thunk. “Prove it,” he said. “Shoot her.”

Your heart shot between your ears, eyes darting between Snoke, Ren, the gun, Snoke, Ren, the gun, Snoke, Ren, the gun. Kylo Ren was as unreadable as ever--he considered the revolver as if Snoke had thrown down a ballpoint pen. A tiny breath escaped him.

“Everything I’ve done has been for Gilead--my commitment has never wavered--”

“Don’t lie to me, boy!” Snoke’s gaze flashed with barely-leashed rage. “I see how you respond when I touch her, I can feel your weakness for her.”

Ren’s lip twitched. “Weakness. For a Handmaid.” 

“I know your mind, Ren. I know every little thought that goes through your brain. Your impulses are raw, you allow Gilead to suffer under your foolishness. This paper...” He held it up, pointing to the signature--beautiful, loopy letters that read Ben Solo. “The boy that signed it still lives. And he is weak.” 

Snoke pushed off the desk, stalked over to you--before you could even think to move, his hand gnarled in your hair, fingers scraping like screws over your scalp. You whimpered, thinking to scream, to fight, to beg--but worried Snoke would shoot you himself if you did. 

“Show me who you’re meant to be, Kylo Ren.” He ripped you to the floor, shoving you onto your knees near his feet. Then, at the back of your head--something hard. Cold. Another gun. “Or I’ll show you myself.”

In the back of your mind, it seemed strange--for all the scenarios you’d imagined being on your knees in front of your Commander, this had never been one of them. Terror shuddered you, but you stilled the quaking of your flesh, meeting Ren’s eyes, sticking your chin into the air. He stared into you and through you, hooking into your hidden fear, finding himself there. Your chests rose and fell with the same breath, lips parting with the same awful knowledge--there was no scenario where he could save you, no reality where your story could’ve had a different ending. For all of your emptiness, loneliness, wanton need, this was your destiny--two souls, desperate to know the other, denied for every unchangeable reason fate could offer.

Part of you knew that Ren had to kill you. Part of you hoped against hope that, somehow, he wouldn’t.

But then he moved. And he picked up the gun.

“Good,” Snoke said. “Good.”

Ren stepped toward you, face blank, and aimed the revolver until it was inches from your head. You gazed at him, thankful that you’d known relief at least once in the past few years, somehow more thankful that he’d been the one to give it to you. Heat stung your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not now. You’d wished for death too many times at this point to begrudge its arrival.

“Good choice, my boy,” Snoke said. He jerked your scalp. “Would you like to have a prayer for your last words?”

He scoffed. “What use does a dog have for prayer?”

A hearty chuckle. “Oh, I’m nothing if not a man of God.”

“Last prayer, then.” Ren blinked. “Do what you wish with it.”

In your chest, breath hitched, your pulse flying. The switchblade. Swallowing, you glanced at the floor to Snoke’s foot beside you, then back up, meeting Ren’s eyes. A spark, a crooked crackle of light--you were seeing them, seeing him, seeing yourself, a reflection, an echo, pure resonance in the emptiness of his mind--and in that moment, you knew.

You knew him.

Clearing your throat, you began, “O, Lord Jesus…” 

You pressed your palms together, bowing your head to conceal them as you used the heel of your hand to guide the blade up your sleeve.

“... pour into me the spirit of your love…”

The handle poked through the edge of fabric, the wooden scales cool and smooth. Your tongue was paper, scratching at your mouth.

“... that in the hour of my death…”

With the switchblade fully encased in your hands, your finger dipped to find the safety and flick it free. Perspiration had it slip in your grip, and you flinched for only a second, pinching it tight between your palms. 

“... I may be worthy to vanquish the enemy…”

Your thumb fumbled for the safety, now, finding it behind your sweaty skin.

“... and receive the heavenly crown.”

Pushing it up, you drew a long, deep breath through your nose. Ren cocked his gun. 

“Amen.”

The blade sprung free, and you drove it, a stake, straight into Snoke’s hapless foot. He screamed, his gun clattering to the floor--in that instant, Ren cocked a brow, raised the revolver, and fired. Snoke blew back, blood spattering your crown, a crimson spray cast over the desk, onto Ren’s face, and the body hit the floor behind you with a fleshy thud. 

You blinked, gasping, trembling, too terrified to look behind you, too anxious to not confirm he was dead. A quick peek--a massive crater in the lifeless facade of his skull--and you swallowed, looking to Kylo Ren, without breath, without speech, without pretense. His eyes were wide and wild, his chest heaving with something like excitement--then, outside the study, the guards stirred. 

“Commander Snoke?” one asked.

Ren glanced at the door. His pupils swallowed his irises, and at the corner of his lips, a smirk. He tore off his tie, tossed his suit jacket onto the floor, back and shoulders swelling like mountains underneath his shirt. 

“We’re coming in, sir.”

“Get down,” he muttered as he cocked the gun, aiming it at the door. “Come in.”

You scrambled to the side of the desk and tore off your wings so you could see, curling over your knees, and the door squeaked open. The moment the guard’s head breached the entrance, Ren fired, and you jolted--blood spurted, painting the wall, the body dropped. A second guard flung the door back, rushing Ren before he could reload, but Ren threw his elbow into the man’s chin, wringing his arm around his neck and shoving him to the ground. He drove his heel into the guard’s neck before cocking the gun and blowing a hole through his face.

Heart flying in your chest, you stared at him, mouth open, almost unable to believe what you’d just seen. In the recording, you’d heard Snoke call him a warrior--you just hadn’t known until now what that meant.

“We’re moving.” Ren stalked over and snatched your wrist, but you winced. 

“Hold on!” You tugged away and snagged the switchblade from Snoke’s foot, sheathing it and shoving it back up your sleeve.

“Come.” He grabbed you again, leading you over the leaking lump of the guard and into the hall.

As you breached the threshold and crossed the hall, two guards turned the corner--the ones from the top of the stairs. Kylo Ren shoved you behind him, gunshots spearing your ears, a body falling; then he slammed you against the wall, the trill of wide rifle bullets whizzing by your skull. You screamed, covered your head, and Ren reached out, wresting the barrel of the offending gun and wrenching the guard flush with his chest--he shoved the revolver up to his chin and fired, viscera erupting from the man’s eye sockets and coating you both. 

You gagged, mind whirling--but Ren was crazed, rippling with the heat of exhilaration. He ditched the revolver and tucked the rifle under his arm, shrugging the body off and grabbing you again. Ren hugged you tight to his frame as he marched through the halls; panting, you gazed up at him, futilely trying to process that he had not only murdered his leader, but now apparently planned to gun down the entirety of this estate--when he all he had to do instead was kill you.

He cursed when you reached the steps. A pair of guards was posted at both sets of stairs--and, seeing you, they shouted and charged. Ren’s attention darted between them, landed on the chandelier. He shouldered you back, running forward and leaping from the banister. You squeaked, hands clapping your mouth--but he grappled the chain, feet stumbling over the metal frame as the crystal behemoth swung like a sparkling pendulum in the foyer. The guards hollered, racking their rifles--but Ren fired first.

Using the chandelier like an assassination assistant, Ren pinned the gun to his body and pulled the trigger, spitting a storm of bullets into the staircase, littering pockmarks over the walls. The guards quailed, ducked--Ren jerked the fixture’s chain, rolling his legs down, and he spun, a carousel of death, firing next at the guards climbing the other steps. These two were not so lucky--you caught hot streams of blood splash over the balustrade, and then Ren swung again,  crystals clinking like chimes as the chandelier bowed in wide arcs. Face tight with frenzy, he fired, and you watched the bodies crumple like marionettes and tumble down the stairs.

Bobbing in the air, he cast his gaze around the room, back hunched, an animal starved. You grimaced, crawled forward, gripping the banister, and when he met your eyes, he shifted, making to swing.

“Stop!” came a voice from the back of the home. 

From underneath the balcony, you saw two guards run forward, rifles pointed up--before you could shout, they fired into the ceiling, clouds of crystal fragments spewing into the air. Ren wobbled, dodging with surprising grace, then flung the chandelier back. 

You watched him, lids wide, as he stepped, one foot, another foot, skating over the steel and lurching forward, yanking on the chain like a rope and throwing his legs into the air. His other arm, still occupied with the rifle, swung down, and as he launched himself toward the banister, he fired, sparks snapping, the chain severed. Ren connected with the railing as the chandelier exploded to the floor, crushing the two guards in a splintering spew of metal and glass. Without thinking, you scampered to him, clutching his arms, straining as you helped haul him onto the balcony. He stumbled to his feet and ripped you up by your wrist.

“Commander--”

“Quiet.”

Adrenaline coursed through him into you, absorbed like warmth through your skin. He dragged you down the steps, tossing his current gun and grabbing a new one while you fled over the ragdolled corpses covering your path. In your dress, it was difficult to maneuver, but Ren pulled you through, jaw set firm, ravenous fury dancing in waves from his body. His eyes were focused and feral, a predator, a true, live killer, consumed with a hunger you’d never before seen--not up close. 

He led you toward the front door--beyond the mottled glass, you could spy a pair of guards sneaking close, decked in armor, guns raised. Cursing, he doubled back, your arm popping while he hauled you toward the other end of the home. Then two more guards, also in armor, crept across the pool deck in the same formation, heading toward wherever the back entrance was. Grumbling, Ren tore to the right, wringing you forward--you’d been thrust into a huge kitchen, replete with white quartz countertops and oak cabinetry. You had little time to admire it before he shoved you under the hood of the breakfast nook. Breathless, you pulled your knees to your chest, trying to become as small and unnoticeable as possible.

Slinging the gun over his shoulder, he grabbed two long knives from the butcher block on the counter, sidling up to the wall next to an archway that opened to what appeared like a mudroom. The first sentry peered around the corner, and Kylo Ren snarled, driving the knife through the man’s throat. He choked, gasped, writhing as he fell to the ground, rivers of blood spilling over the floor. The second guard flinched, went to raise his rifle at Ren--but the second of hesitation sealed his fate. Ren jammed his foot into the man’s chest, knocking him onto his back, and stomped his face before shifting the rifle into his hands and ending him with a pop, pop.

Flustered with fear, you made to move--and then spotted that the two guards from the front had made their way into the home, crossing into the kitchen. Before you could warn Ren, one fired, a quick burst, striking him in the side. He roared, crumpling to the floor, a bloom of bright blood staining his side--your body burst with fear, with rage, your mind making decisions without a second of uncertainty. 

As the guards pushed toward Ren, you threw yourself into their path, a human speedbump; they tripped, stumbled over you, over each other, trampling you as they both collapsed to the ground. You craned your neck to see your Commander--he seethed as he stood, punching himself in his wound, each strike punctuated with a furious grunt.

Kylo Ren flipped the free knife into the air, caught it by the handle, and sneered, stabbing one of the guards through the eye--his body jerked, twitched on top of you, and Ren rolled the other man with his foot, aiming his rifle at his exposed face and riddling it with holes. You squealed as his frame jolted with the shots, trying to scramble free--but Ren caught you by the arm again, prying you to your feet. He started toward the back door, but you jerked away--he spun, hair tossed in choppy waves over his face, teeth bared, entire form trembling with the throes of bloodlust.

“The--the front,” you managed to eke out. “You’re injured, let’s get out of here.”

He growled, seizing your wrist and tugging you forward. “We’re not done yet.” 

You swallowed. This was no longer about escaping. It was about revenge.

Led through the mudroom in the wake of his wrath, Ren discarded you to the side of the door and shouldered it open. Two guards stood, anticipating, at the exit, two more chasing around the pool. Your Commander wrapped one of the guards in a headlock, using him as a shield while he surged forward, facing the closest guard while shooting over his arm at the other two. They shook, barraged with bullets, toppling back until they both splashed into the pool, crimson fog weeping into the water. The guard in his grip kicked back, and he faltered--the man closest to him took this as an opportunity to lunge, and smashed into Ren, knocking him and his hostage to the ground.

Chest tightening, you made to move, but hesitated--what would you do? Shoot them? Your brain raced with the possibilities--at this point, you’d picked up a pistol, but you’d never pictured yourself as someone who could end a life. You’d also never pictured yourself as someone who would speak back to the lead Commander of Gilead, get belted over a knee, have her pussy stuffed with a gun, or feel worry for the man who owned her.

That last one caught you by surprise--you weren’t just worried, you were terrified. And not for yourself, but for him. 

Kylo Ren rolled as the other guard approached, his rifle raised--he ducked behind his captive, using him like a barrier and reached down to the man’s side, stealing a handgun from his belt. The other guard went to dodge, but was blasted in the face with two shots, raining blood over the brick patio, crumpling to his knees and smacking the ground. 

Caught in a struggle, Ren went to shoot his final victim through the skull--but the man had already produced a knife from the other side of his belt, and slashed up, ripping Ren across the shoulder and slicing his face. He howled in pain, and the guard took the opportunity to tear himself free, scurrying to his feet, reaching for the gun in Ren’s hand.

Something possessed you--fear, indignity, affection, something--and you dashed through the door, grappled a gun from the corpse closest to you, and cocked it. Maybe, before Gilead, you weren’t a person who could end a life. But now, you were a survivor. And you would be damned if you or your Commander would die here.

Taking the pistol in both hands, you aimed at the guard’s torso. “Hey!” you shouted for absolutely no reason. He glanced over, confused. “Fuck you!”

You pulled the trigger, ears ringing--the bullet nailed his chest, and he staggered, jaw dropped, perhaps wondering if he had really just been shot by a Handmaid. Ren, face smothered scarlet, swung to his feet, swiping the knife from the ground. He snatched the man mid-fall, hoisted him into the air and, snarling, shredded his throat with the blade. A geyser of blood gushed from his neck, bathing Ren in its fever, soaking his shirt, coating the curls of his hair. His shoulders crowded with the desperate cycle of his lungs as he loosened his grip, letting the body hit the ground, crimson bubbles seeping from the wound.

Hands quaking, you lowered your arms, dropped the gun. You couldn’t find your breath, chest fighting for air. Ren turned, eyes tracing the bodies, until finally, they landed on you. Heat hit you, strangled you, wrapped you like wire in a suffocating, powerful, need. Both of you, sprayed with blood, panting, aching--everything you had done, you’d done for the other. His transgressions faded to shadows in your mind. Against every single governmental pillar and logical instinct, you were alive because of him. And you wanted nothing more, now, than to be in his arms.

The word fled your lips, a caged dove. “Kylo…”

Kylo Ren threw down the knife, rushing you, and your feet moved too, carrying you on feathers to him, until your bodies connected, his arms coiling around you, his mouth bruising yours, the taste of iron fresh between your teeth. He was damp with blood, his skin spilled copper into your nose--but despite it all, you groaned, flooded with passion, burning in his embrace. Ren’s tongue drove into your mouth, his hand cupping the back of your head, wetting your hair as he crushed you to his frame. Thighs thrumming with desire, you kissed him back, nipping his lip, threading your fingers through his sticky waves--he moaned, crumbling to his knees, his hold taking you with him. 

“You saved me,” you muttered against his lips. “You saved--”

Ren silenced you with a kiss. “Little bird...” He nibbled the line of your jaw, jerking a fistful of hair and burying his face in it, inhaling deep. “Get these clothes off.”

You shivered. “Yes, sir.”

Keeping his gaze, you gathered the hem of your dress and peeled it over your head, his eyes leaping over every bit of exposed flesh as it was revealed to him. You tossed it and your switchblade to the side, his hands grappling with your hips, sliding up your sides, smearing crimson over your skin. Whimpering, you reached toward your feet, pulling your boots off and throwing them to the side, attempting valiantly to remain kneeling while you inched your underwear down your hips and over your calves. Ren watched, trained on your naked cunt, as you finally flung it behind you.

When you went to begin the arduous task of unhooking your bra, Ren growled, your knees scraping across the pool deck as he yanked you into an impatient kiss. You whined in pain, soothed by his soft lips working yours, new blood from the wound on his face dribbling into your mouths and over your wrestling tongues. He wrested your tits from your bra, dying them red, thumbs skating delight over your stiffening nipples. Moaning, you writhed into his chest, and he gripped your face, nails scraping your scalp while he pulled you closer, groaning into you, leaning--you followed him, chasing his kiss until he was on his back, your legs straddling him, palms planted on his chest.

A soft, anxious breath escaped his throat, and he swirled his tongue over yours before biting your lip and pushing you up, hands settling on your thighs, rocking you back and forth over his thick erection. He watched you, panting in rhythm with you, and you admired him--how fucking beautiful he was, even (or especially) doused in blood--his eyes stark with need, his mouth parted in open anticipation, his muscles tensing as he gripped and squeezed you, jerking his hips into your heat. If he was in any pain at all from the gash on his face or the bullets in his side, it didn’t show--he rolled into you as if he cared for nothing other than the sight of your body over his own. 

“Are you okay?” You placed your hands on his, squeezing them. 

Ren frowned and swatted you off, gathering both wrists behind you in a tight vise. “Interesting question to pose while you’re already grinding onto me.”

You blushed. “I just wanted to make--” 

He shoved two bloodied fingers in your mouth, depressing your tongue, cranking your jaw open. “Ask me again after I’ve fucked that little cunt raw.”

Shuddering, you clenched, and nodded.

“There we go.” He released your tongue, popping your wrists back--your tits swayed from the movement, and he hummed in satisfaction, kneading and groping at the flesh, teasing your nipples. “You’re gorgeous…”

“Oh…” Submerged in desire, you could barely process his words. He twitched underneath you, drawing another spasm from your core. “Kylo…”

He sucked in air through his teeth, digging his fingers into your breast. “You want my cock? Hm?” He reached down, brushed his thumb over your clit, and you whined. “You want me inside you, slut?”

“Fuck,” you whispered. “Fuck, yes, please.”

“Good girl…” 

Ren kept his grip on your wrists, working at his pants until he’d managed to pull his long, heavy cock free. You ached at the sight of it, wanting to slide it between your folds, feel it pulse inside you, bask in its swollen heat. Ren slapped it against you and shifted his hips, pushing you higher, hand stroking his length as he guided it to your entrance. Stoked on adrenaline, on some sort of intoxicating infatuation, you were wet and wanting and warm with need--you sank onto him, crying out when he broke you open, letting him drive deep into your belly. 

“God,” you hissed, “you feel so good…”

He throbbed at the base, rutting up into you and popping your wrists again. “Shh.” His free hand clutched your hip. “I’ll tell you when to speak, little bird,” he muttered. “Be quiet and take this cock.”

Ren’s strength overwhelmed you--he slammed you from below, fucking up into you, forcing gasps and squeals from your lungs. Bliss blazed through your blood as the force of his thrusts throttled you, body quaking, breasts bouncing. His face was screwed in a twist of lust and effort, lip furled, strangled growls escaping his chest--he pumped hard, fast, pinching you in his hands as his own pleasure built. 

“Fuck,” he growled, “that’s right--do you like that?”

“Yes…” The words were as unfiltered as you were. “I love it…”

“Good--good girl.” His stare devoured you while you rode him. “So beautiful… so perfect…” A hand glided up your side, cupping one of your tits. “And all mine…” He grunted, punished you with a particularly hard thrust--you yelped. “Say it.”

A twinge in your heart, distant and irritating. “But I--”

He yanked your wrists, straining your shoulders, branding a bruise into your breast with his fingers. “Say it.” His pace switched, and he rammed your cunt with brutal, deep strokes, striking your cervix with white streaks of pain. “You’re mine.”

“Kylo--”

Ren seethed, throwing you off of him and onto your back, wincing when he loomed over you, and he pounded his side, hissing in pain. Your eyes widened--in seconds, he’d spiraled into mania, his face wrought with possessive fervor while his fist pummeled his wound. If he’d looked beautiful before, now it was sinful: dark hair matted in messy clumps around his crown, his brow drawn in focus, his shirt, torn from the knife, flopping over to reveal his bare chest, showered with blood. He peeled your legs wide, ankles in his fists as he lifted your ass from the ground--and, sneering, he split you, cock cleaving your cunt. In pleasure, you sobbed. 

“Fuck,” he growled again. “You’re so fucking tight…” Ren started fucking into you, slipping in to the hilt, hips hitting yours with loud slaps. “You feel so good around my cock…”

Whinging, you lolled your head on the deck-- his words sent a torrent of yearning through your flesh, and your clit screeched for attention, but part of you knew that touching it yourself would deny you release altogether. So you stared at him, chin tucked to your chest, each stroke bringing new, desperate breath to your lungs as your back scratched the smooth stone underneath you. 

“Nothing to stop me,” he said, “nothing to keep me from you.” He jerked you closer, and you wailed from the depth of his thrusts. “You’re going to be mine…”

“Kylo--”

“No,” he hissed. “Say it.” He propped one of your legs on his shoulder, his hand diving between your legs to rub your clit, covering it in blood--you cried out, clenching, convulsing, pleasure creeping into your vision. “Say you want to be mine.”

The earth turned beneath you. Everything, all of it had been for you, but not in the way that you had hoped. No, it had been to alter the universe to his own whims, to construct a galaxy where he could possess you, keep you, trap you in a tiny, wire cage. His little bird. 

You wouldn’t accept that--not after today. You couldn’t.

“Only if--ah--you’re mine, too,” you replied. “I can’t just be yours! You--you have to be mine!” 

“What have I told you?” Ren groaned, deep and low. “If that’s what you want…” He gathered some of the blood from his face onto his thumb. “Then you’ll want for nothing.” He slicked your clit while he fucked you, the fluid warm and wet and spinning you to the height of euphoria. “Say it.”

“I’m--I’m yours!” You shut your lids, awash in the elated reality of his admission. “I’m yours, Kylo!”

“Cum then,” he ordered, “cum on this fucking cock...”

You were drawn and quartered by ecstasy, spine arcing toward the sky as your core clamped his dick, limbs shuddering with the waves of your epinephrine-injected climax. Ren growled, leaning over you to hammer into your cunt, strangling his groan as he poured his cum into you, rolling his hips until he was empty--empty of rage, lust, and energy.

Swallowing, you heaved, eyes fluttering open, seeking out your Commander’s gaze. Not that his position mattered, in this hazy purgatory of existence. In this moment, the laws and regulations of Gilead didn’t apply to you and Ren. You’d defied them, destroyed them all. Together. 

Something, some emotion you’d wrestled into submission so many times before slithered out of its grave--like hope, but more poignant, more powerful, not just the faith that you could survive. No, it was the dream that you could thrive, that Gilead would crumble underneath both of your feet, that--maybe--you could take a canvas and paint a future with him in it. 

Locking eyes, you spied it there, too, beyond the lowered shield of his anger: a mirror of your mind. His hand fell between your breasts, his lip quivering, fingers skimming down your sensitive, starlight skin. How long you laid there, you weren’t sure, but it was after his soft cock had slipped out of you, after your breath had leveled. Sweat glazed you both. 

“Why did you do it?” you asked, finally. You fumbled for his hand, laid yours over it.

Ren paused, staring at the image of your hand--so much smaller--wrapped around his, analyzing it in his mind like a puzzle.  His jaw tensed, and he pulled away. A piece of your heart wilted.

“I told you,” he said, beginning to adjust himself to decency. “Gilead is flawed. My vision will perfect it.” He met your eyes. “You’ll be mine. And you’ll want for nothing.”

“But…” You narrowed your lids. “You’re mine, too, then.”

“I am.” He stood, gazing over the carnage of the yard--the bodies, the blood, the dyed-red water--all of it turning rancid in the summer heat. “Your Commander.” 

There it was. The mallet of his intention, shattering your dreams to disasters. It was as if you had been thrust into the pool yourself, drenched in cold, icy admonishment. How stupid, how foolish were you to imagine that Kylo Ren could consider bringing Gilead down? How short-sighted had you been to believe, for one moment, that he would ever renounce his ownership of you? How horrible, how awful were you that the tiniest, most foolish part of you wanted to accept this--agree to his terms, as long as he’d stay, somewhere, in that canvas.

He held out his hand. “Come.”

Shaking your head, you grabbed your underwear and pulled it on. It seemed silly, getting dressed when half of your clothing would be muddied with blood. You glanced up at him, mapping the wounds in his body. He was hunched, but not hampered. 

“Are you really okay?” 

Ren still had his hand extended. “Yes.”

You frowned, slapped it away. His eye twitched, attention switching between you and his hand--and, to your surprise, he shoved it in his pocket. You grabbed your dress, tugged it on.

“Continue getting dressed,” he said. “I’ll contact my men and tell them--”

“Hello? Who’s out there?”

The voice, tight with fear, froze you both--Ren’s fists clenched, your heart falling somewhere into your ass. From inside the mudroom, a young woman cloaked in blue emerged, and you recognized her immediately. Snoke’s robot, er, Wife. Christine. She hadn’t spoken once at the dinner. 

Between the gloves, the hat, the heeled shoes, it was obvious she was just now returning home. As she surveyed the yard, her gaze fuzzied, and she tumbled into the threshold. Neither you nor Ren made a move to help her.

“What… what happened here?”

It was a fair question. But admitting you’d both participated in a coup likely wouldn’t go over well. You weren’t sure what Ren’s plan was, but you knew the Eyes could have you both killed if they learned this had been your doing.

“Commander Snoke is dead,” Ren said. “I killed--”

“The guard,” you said, glaring at him. “He killed the guard who killed Commander Snoke. After that, the entire place went up.” Looking back at her, you gestured to Ren. “You need to call an ambulance, he’s been injured.”

Christine, appearing dizzy, pushed off of the doorframe and nodded. “I’ll… I’ll get help. Just…” She waved her hands in circles. “Don’t move.”

With that, she stumbled into the home, the click of her heels growing distant. 

You sneered at Ren, pulling on your boots and stuffing the switchblade in your sleeve. “You’re welcome.”

He watched you as you stood, said nothing for a moment--a twitch of pain crossed his face. “When I’m taken to the hospital, you’ll be questioned,” he said. “Say nothing. I will handle this. And when you get home, bathe and get into bed.” His eyes raked over you. “Do you understand?”

You nodded. “Yes, Kylo. I do.”

Ren exhaled, drinking you in. “I’m going to contact my men before the ambulance arrives. They’ll have work to do here.” He reached out and cupped your face. “Be good, little bird.” He patted you on the cheek, and walked into the home. 

[deans-mind-palace]

Suspirium (Pt.5)

Pairing: Prof!Sam x Reader

Summary: You’re in your last year of your Classics and Mordern Languages studies and you’re majoring in Latin and English. Then you get assigned to a different Latin teacher. And damn, he loves his subject. Too bad that he’s also hot. What is just a childish crush soon develops into something way more complicated.

Word Count: 1,220

Warnings: Awkwardness

Author’s Note: Chapter 5. There will be more or less 12 chapters. You can find all parts with the tag suspirium on my blog. Also over the guide to my blog (the pinned post) and on the masterlist. 

Or you catch up here: Suspirium - Masterlist

You stood outside the door of Sam's office and nervously looked at the name tag attached to the white door.

Professor Winchester Member of the ancient languages department

For the fourth time you clenched your fingers into a fist and were about to knock when you let your hand drop again. If you were honest, you didn't know why you were so nervous. Sam was a nice guy who offered to help you with your book and wanted to meet you in his office at 4:00. Yet you felt this dull feeling that made you hesitate. Today you realized for the first time that Sam was your professor. The lecture you had come out of two hours ago had proven that he was a pretty good professor on top. You were trapped in an inner conflict.

He was your professor. So what? He was just trying to help you. You had a lot of respect for him. But he was still the same man from the café! Was he?

Finally you struggled through, took a deep breath and raised your hand to knock when the door was ripped open and the wood disappeared under your knuckles. Sam almost ran you over. Surprised, he paused and his hazel eyes stared at you amused. "Y/N. How long have you been standing there?" he asked you with a smile. Embarrassed, you stroked a strand of hair from your face and stepped from one foot to the other. As soon as he smiled at you and his hazel eyes sparkled, all your doubts were gone. "I thought I'd get a sandwich before you get here. I was just gonna run so I'd be back when you got here." You started laughing out loud. "You're amazing." He made a gesture that went through his brown hair. You realized early on that it was a gesture of nervousness. It relieved you that he was nervous, too. "I get to hear that all the time," he replied, winking at you to mask his excitement. Was he flirting with you? There was a red glint covering your cheeks. Sam looked at you, then his eyes widened. "I - oh, damn. I didn't mean - that sounded wrong." His cheeks turned pink and he coughed.

"No, I - don't worry." you calmed him down by putting your hand on his arm. When you realized what you were doing, you quickly pulled it back. Sam looked relieved and didn't seem to notice. "Come in." He opened the door a little wider and let you step into his office. It was lined with bookshelves. The shelves contained all kinds of Latin works, as well as dictionaries, essays and epics. The books and loose sheets were scattered about. Some even in front of the shelves or in stacks on the floor. A large brown desk stood in the middle of the room, in front of it two chairs. On the wall to the left at the back there was a green sofa with the filling pouring out of its seams. The walls, which were not covered by bookshelves, were decorated with maps of the Roman Empire, pictures of archaeological excavations, Rome and a box with some Roman coins. So Sam was a nerd through and through.

"Sorry it's such a mess," the young man apologized. "It's comfy," you said. The smell of cinnamon, sandalwood and old parchment filled your nose. It took you a moment to categorize it. You knew that smell. When you hugged Sam, he smelled the same. It calmed you down immensely. "Thank you. Please sit down." He pointed to one of the chairs after removing a stack of books. You expected him to sit at his desk, but he sat down right on the chair next to you. For a brief moment there was silence between you, but it was not an unpleasant silence. The sun was shining through the window and the bookshelves groaned and creaked as soon as the sunlight shone on them. Dust danced to its own melody through the air.

"So what did you think of the first lecture?" Sam asked and you heard the curiosity in his voice. You thought about how to put your thoughts into words. "It was... different." The sparkle in Sam's eyes faded and an uncertain expression flashed across his face. You felt the urge to put your hand on his arm again, but you pulled yourself back together. "I totally enjoyed it. You made the lecture lively and unconventional. You were responsive to every student. It was interesting and instructive. It was refreshing, in a way." you began to elaborate on your remark. Sam smiled warmly at you and you realized that you would do anything for that smile. "I hope the others felt the same way," he muttered. "De gustibus non est disputandum. There's no accounting for taste," you replied and Sam laughed out loud. "Probably, yes. Your interpretation today was very interesting and I look forward to reading your analysis. But actually it was your book that I called you here for today. And because I wanted to discuss something with you." You swallowed and your throat got dry. Uh-oh.

"Did you bring the manuscript?" he asked you. "Uh, yeah - sure, of course." Hastily, you pulled the pile of stapled pages out of your bag and presented it to him as your personal sanctum. His thumb ran across the pages and he flipped through the manuscript once. "Wow, that's a lot," he said with a smile. You blushed. "This is a copy. You can keep it and go through it. Whenever you have time, you can write some notes and we'll go over it." Sam nodded and his brown hair bounced up and down as he loosened the collar of his shirt with two fingers.

"I've been thinking about something. You seem to share my passion for Latin and you're about to get your PhD. Besides, I'd like to help you with your book. But I want something in return." He probably paused for a second between his words, but in that second my imagination went crazy. What did he want? Money? Favors? Sex?! He was handsome and smart, and there were worse candidates. But this was Sam. You didn't think Sam could do something like this. Or could he? Actually, you'd only known him for three days. What made you so sure? But Sam interrupted your thought process abruptly. "Well, well." He scratched his neck. "I could use some help preparing my lectures a-and we get along just fine, so I thought-" As confident as Sam was in the auditorium in front of all his students, he actually seemed quite shy and insecure with you. You thought he was cute, and you liked the privilege of knowing that side of your professor. "-which is why I thought maybe you could be my teaching assistant. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, if that's convenient. Then we'll spend some time preparing the content of the next lecture and afterwards we'll go over my notes in your manuscript together." He paused for a moment and his eyes looked for yours, to see some kind of approval or rejection in it.

"What do you think of that?" You were still trying to process the fact that he didn't want to have sex with you.

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[multific]

The Fourth Date

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: slight violence, smut

Summary: You don’t know about Bucky’s past and since you two only started dating recently, he is yet to confess it all. But after a date, Bucky is forced to confess everything.

 Bucky didn’t want it to happen like this. He wasn’t even ready for it. He only found the courage to ask you out a few weeks ago, and this was only your fourth date. 

Bucky heard it from Sam that the fourth date was the “magical date”. Even if Bucky got his memories back and he remembered all of his previous encounters with women, he wasn’t the same now. 

He was an official Avenger, who fought on the right side. Yet, Bucky never forgot his scars. Steve told him billions of times before to try and move on, Bucky still felt like an old and beaten up wolf. 

That was until you came into his life.

It was only a simple breakfast with Steve but when you served them food, Bucky was mesmerized. Your bright and kind nature, your smile and your sparkling eyes took his breath away. You were the polar opposite of him. He was this person with a dark aura, and you, you shined greater than the sun.

And after going to the place for about a month, and with a little help from Steve, he was able to ask you out.

And now Bucky found himself with you by his side as the restaurant you went to have a romantic night was getting robbed with all of the customers held as hostages. When all you wanted was a night filled with laughter and sweet moments.

Bucky knew he had to do something to save the others and most importantly, you.

When the three men barged in with guns, demanding money, Bucky’s training kicked in. All of his soldier senses came to life and his mission was clear, keep his girlfriend safe.

It was weird that the thieves thought about robbing a restaurant of all places, but it made sense since there wasn’t much security and the place was rather expensive, took Bucky a good amount of begging so Steve would ask Tony for a table.

Bucky tried to calm you down as you were shaking from fear. He held you close to his chest, trying to shush you since the thieves hadn’t noticed the two of you, thanks to Bucky hiding away.

“Listen to me Y/N. I have a lot to tell you and I promise, I will. But please, trust me on this. Stay here, don’t come out and stay quiet, can you do that for me?” Bucky said as he received a text from Steve that he and Sam were on their way. It wasn’t like Bucky couldn’t take a few man out by himself, but he needed to think about the hostages.

“What are you doing?” but he didn’t give you an answer, he just kissed your cheek and ran out there.

You were in a state of shock, how could he fight all those men? They had guns! You wanted to yell after him but you remembered at his words. 

You could only sit there, hidden behind a wall and a plant as you peeked out to see a man getting beaten up pretty badly. You heard Bucky yell at other customers to start running out. You were astonished. 

The gentle and shy man who you knew was beating the shit out of three men at the same time was the same man who blushed as he leaned in to kiss you after your second date. The man who got shocked when you held his hand as he walked next to you. The man who you remember was nervous to even look at you as he ordered his food when you first met. It was like a switch has turned in him.

But for some reason, it didn’t scare you. Even when his jacket got ripped and his left arm became visible, you realized why he was always so nervous about it now. Or when you tried to grab his left hand, he pulled away. It was all because it was a metal arm. It looked like a prosthetic but it was made out of black metal. And as one guy hit it with his gun, the gun broke in half. When all thieves were on the ground, you waited for Bucky to get back to you, you wouldn’t get out until he got there.

Then two other man arrived at the scene. However Bucky didn’t talk to them when they called out his name, he came straight back to you.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

You didn’t even know what happened after that, you remember Bucky helping you out of the place, then he talked to the two guys, one named Sam the other Steve. You remember a paramedic checking you, then you found yourself in your car as Bucky drove you home.

He stopped at a red light is when you came back to your senses. You remember him saying that he will explain things, and now you weren’t sure if you should ask or wait for him.

As the light changed and he began driving again, you remember thinking one thing, which you ended up asking him.

“Do you even have a license?”

Bucky looked at you for a second then back at the road.

“You haven’t said a single word for the last hour and the first thing you ask is if I have a license?”

“Yes, you’re driving my car, and I don’t even know if you have one. What if we get stopped and they’ll take my car? How will I get to work on Monday?”

“We are nearly at your place. But… you really don’t want to ask me anything else? About what happened or such?”

You took a deep breath, then one millisecond made Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

“No. You said that you’d explain it. I assume it is something hard for you to talk about, so I’ll be patient and wait until you are ready to explain.” When Bucky stopped your car in front of your apartment complex, he looked at you with an expression you haven’t seen on anyone ever.

“How are you so perfect? Others wouldn’t even sit in the same car with me, yet here you are being patient and perfect. You saw what I did back at the restaurant yet you let me help you out of there and you even hugged me when I came to you. Others would have ran, scared, yet you were calm and… Only Steve had been this calm with me before.”

“Steve? Is he a friend of yours? He’s the guy from back there right? With the grey suit?”

“No, that’s Sam, Steve is my childhood friend.”

“Oh. I see. And Sam? Is he your friend?”

“Kind of.” Bucky looked out of the window at a man walking past.

“I only ask this because, you barely tell me about yourself. During our past dates, I know we haven’t been going out for long, but for the most part, I was the one talking about myself while you listened. And yes, I wasn’t scared back then. You helped so many others, put your life at risk to save me and those people, how would I be scared of that? And even your hand. I’m sure that there’s a story behind it. I’d love to hear it, when you are ready to tell me. I like you Bucky, very very very much. And I will not run just because you have a past, everyone does, some have dark ones. I won’t run, I won’t leave. Unless you ask me to.” You touched his hand and that made him look at you.

“Thank you.” was all he could say before you hugged him once again. You clearly saw it in his blue eyes that your message went through him, every word you said.

Looked like an abandoned and tortured puppy found love again, a new reason to live.

The next thing you knew, you were stumbling into your apartment, while feverishly kissing each other. You soon found yourself naked on top of this gorgeous human being. You could barely believe anything on him was real. From his ripped built to his amazingly long and thick cock. Bucky was truly like a God. 

You never felt such pleasure before and he looked like he didn’t either. The two of you melted into one as you reached your highs more than just once that night. The first time was slow, passionate lovemaking, the second was more rough and animalistic sex, the third was slower than the first and in the shower, while the fourth was just as slow and passionate as the first time, but with both of you laying down on your sides as he worked his hips against yours while his mouth was on your neck, there wasn’t a place on your skin he didn’t kiss, sucked on or licked. 

He worshipped you.

Now, you were tired as you laid on your sides, looking at each other while your fingers moved from his chest to his arm and down to his fingers. You were exhausted but you didn’t want to sleep just in case it was all a dream and he would disappear.

“I was born March 10th, 1917, the eldest child of four. During my childhood, I met Steve Rogers when bullies were trying to steal his money. We soon became best friends and stuck together for many years, I saved his ass many times. Then came the war. While serving on the front lines of World War II, me and my unit, were ambushed and I got captured by HYDRA. I will sum it up the best I can. A lot happened, war stuff…Steve and I fought on a train and I… I fell. During that, I lost my arm. That part is a bit blurry, but it ended up with me becoming an assassin for HYDRA. They used this brainwashing machine and made me into a murderer. I killed many people, Y/N. But I don’t do that anymore. My mind got free and I am trying to do what’s right, so at least I can do good things after all the bad I had done. I would understand if you wouldn’t want to see me anymore I’m a monster. And-“ he stopped himself when he noticed a tear leaving your eye as it ran down your cheek, he lifted his hand to wipe it, but as soon as he saw the shine that his metal hand reflected, he stopped.

“You are not. You are a victim. You got brainwashed, right? So, you couldn’t… it wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice.” Bucky remembered that Steve said those exact same words, and his answer was the same as it was for Steve.

“I know. But I did it.” you shook your head. And moved to sit up while you held the blanket against your chest.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You saved me today. You saved many others too. You didn’t have a choice back then, but you have now, and you’re doing the right thing. You would never hurt me. I know it. You are so gentle and honest with me.”

“I feel like a used, old, broken toy. Like someone used me for their own will and now that I can live my own life, I still can’t move on because inside I still know what I am and what I did.” now he was sitting on the bed as he just watches you cry. He couldn’t understand why you were crying. Was it fear?

“I-I, Bucky, what you had gone through it horrible. I want to help you, heal you. It breaks my heart that you still see yourself as that man. I love you.” perhaps it was too soon to say that, only four dates, but you already knew as he kissed you in the car and then in the elevator that your heart held more than just a crush for the man.

Bucky hugged you close to his chest.

“Thank you, Y/N. Really. I believe that with your love, I will be able to be better and hopefully one day I will see myself as you see me. Because the picture you painted of me is so much better than the one I have in my head. I’m happy. I love you too.” he whispered the last sentence into your ear and you squeezed him tight.

“So, I guess I’m dating a 102-year-old…” you said trying to lighten the mood a little bit after all the deep conversation you just had.

“You are.” he said with a rare smile on his face.

That night, after years and years of nightmares and troubled nights, Bucky finally slept peacefully with you in his arms as all he could smell was your shampoo and small hints of your perfume that still lingered on your neck.

Sam was right, the fourth date really is the “magical date”.

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[sisterpiranha]

The Art of Snake Charming ch. 3

Pairing: Lawrusso, Daniel Larusso/Amanda Larusso

Summary:  Johnny is a stripper. Daniel has a bachelor party. Louie is an idiot.

Chapter 1 & 2

No beta. The many mistakes that can be found here are all mine. This one is also mainly Daniel angsting, so there's no dialogue. Just Daniel lying to himself. Sorry! I'd write the next chapter over the weekend and I promise that it'll have a lot more dialogue.

The card was still haunting Daniel the next day. 

It was the first thing his bleary eyes saw when they opened the next day. The bright little piece of paper seemed to mock him, standing against a picture of Amanda and him from their holidays last year. The same holidays in which they had decided to get married and made plans for their future together. 

He groaned and closed his eyes again, grateful that Amanda was spending the week at her sister’s house organising the wedding. Under the stark, unforgiving light of the sun, he could feel embarrassment and shame take root in the pit of his stomach.

The previous night seemed like a fever dream. The image of Johnny came to his mind as he had been in the street, smiling softly at him. Butterflies burst in his chest, and he buried his face in the pillow, forcing himself to squash them with guilt. He had a fiance, he would be a married man in a week, he shouldn’t be feeling this way. He blamed it on pre-wedding nerves and the shock of seeing Johnny after so many years. That was it. Nothing more. It couldn’t be nothing more.

With a sigh, Daniel resigned himself to get up.  When he headed for the bathroom, the card was still there, on his nightstand, mocking him. 

The cold water of the shower was a balm for his aching head and troubled mind. He rubbed his skin hard until all he could feel was its sting. He focused on the physical sensation. The pain helped him keep away any other unwelcome thoughts, thoughts of blond hair gleaming under the streetlight, deep blue eyes sparkling in joy and hard muscles under his fingertips.

When he left the bathroom, he was determined to throw the card away and forget about the whole thing. Leave Johnny in the past, where he belonged. 

Despite his best intentions, as the day progressed, Daniel kept finding something to do, some different task that took him away from his goal. So when seven o’clock came by, the card was still there, untouched. 

His hand shook slightly when he took it. The same mantra ran through his mind like a prayer ‘throw it away, throw it away, JUST throw it away’. A set of magic words that would bring him back to course with his life, a life in which he didn’t know Johnny was a stripper, he didn’t know the adult he had become. He thought of the blond when he had first seen him at the bachelor party, before Johnny had know he was there. The man had been  all bravado and a cocky smile. And he remembered the fire in his eyes when he went for Louie…

Louie.

Daniel knew his cousin enough to know that he wouldn’t pay what he owed to Johnny. Would it get him in trouble? He heard his mother’s voice telling how important family was, how they should take care of it. 

He closed his eyes and sighed. He knew what he had to do. 

An hour later Daniel was entering The Slammer. 

The first thing he noticed was how dark and noisy the place was. It was Saturday night, so it was packed. A cowboy was dancing on stage to what sounded like a remix of a country song.  The man was good looking enough and, all around him, men were clapping, shouting obscenities, offering bills or just ogling. As he got increasingly more naked, the tension seemed to increase. There was an inescapable sense of seediness in the air. A wave of revulsion swept through Daniel as he turned around and walked to the bar. The thought of Johnny performing in such a place made him feel a little ill. 

He asked the bartender about the blonde, but he seemed to have no idea who he was talking about. He was about to start to describe him, when the announcer’s voice boomed through the room. It seemed the cowboy had finished his act and a new performer was going to take his place. 

“Well, gentlemen, up next we have the house favourite. Please welcome the Cobra!”

The first notes of a rock song started to sound, but it was the name thre announcer said that made Daniel turn around. And there, on the stage, was Johnny. His appearance made his heart jump. He was wearing black dark jeans that were ripped at the knees and thighs, a tight white shirt, his black headband and his Cobra Kai red leather jacket, now tighter molding perfectly to the muscles on his arms. He looked like he came straight from a teenage wet dream, more like an action hero than a dancer.  

The crowd cheered enthusiastically. There were shouts and wolf whistles as Johnny started to move. His performance was very different to the one from the previous dancer. The cowboy had focus on being slow and sensual, full of teasing smiles and coy looks. Johnny went hard and fast, his dancing were more athletic, but still grateful. Daniel realised the man had incorporated many karate movements to his routine. And the people around him seemed to love it. 

Once the jacket and shirt were off, Daniel started to feel a blush creeped through his face. He could see Johnny’s muscles glistening with sweat and could just make up a fine dusting of golden hair covering his chest where he remembered none used to be. 

Just when Johnny’s hand moved towards the waistband of his jeans, Daniel thought he had had enough. He felt like a voyeur looking at Johnny doing this. He was no better than any of the perverts trying to get a piece of him in front of the stage, he had to turn around, look away, try to find Johnny once his show was over and he was dressed. He couldn’t humiliate the man even further. If the blonde were to find out that he had seen him, he would surely… 

And then Johnny’s eyes met his, and there was no anger, no shame, but a bright fire that shone through. A smirk formed itself on the man’s lips and he winked at him just as he pulled from his pants, leaving him in nothing but a black jockstrap. It was at that moment that Daniel knew he wasn’t going anywhere. 

[star-doll-universe]

Michelle Goes to Candy Island (Part 2)

Here’s the second part to my little mini series that I’ve been writing based off @one-piece-dumpster-fire​‘s self/insert from her fanfic ‘Crumbling Worlds’ (go read, it good). This part is even longer than Part 1 because I have no self control and there will probably be at least two more parts after this *hides*

Enjoy my nonsense!

Part 1

 As Michelle predicted, the Peter Midnight got them to Candy Island in less than no time at all. She had been to this island only once before and that had been back when she’d been travelling around Tottoland with her parents in search of a new place to live. She remembered it being the largest island she’d visited on her search; in fact, according to the brochure, it was the second largest island in the Tottoland Archipelago behind Whole Cake. This was one of the reasons why Michelle had ultimately turned the island down, despite the rather lavish display the citizens had put on in the hopes of attracting newcomers, as the place was far too crowded and overwhelming for her. Not nearly as quaint and quiet as Biscuit Island, her eventual forever home, turned out to be.

The young woman recalled all of these things as she took in the impressive display that was the domain of Big Mom’s oldest child. The entire island was basically a work of art comprised of hundreds of intricate and brightly colored candy structures courtesy of Perospero’s Lick-Lick Fruit. The city at the island’s center was made up of dozens of gorgeous spire-shaped towers with shiny candy surfaces glittering in the sun in dozens of brilliant colors; the amount of detail placed into all of the buildings was truly remarkable.

Spice had since left Michelle’s side to direct her soul projections, so they could safely steer the ship into the Sweet n’ Sour Port at the edge of Candy Island. The little pumpkin boat gracefully lined up with the largest of the red and white striped docks. One of Spice’s soul projections quickly jumped off and tied the Peter Midnight off with thick ropes of black licorice.

“Alright! Let’s go, easy does it,” the real Spice helped Michelle down the ramp, her soul projections vanishing in puffs of purple smoke as they went. “Is your hip doing better now?’

Michelle nodded, giving her a thankful smile as she stepped away from Spice’s helpful arm and moved to make her way further down the dock. However, only a few steps further, and she suddenly felt an odd cold feeling wash over her body, as though she had just passed into a different area of space that was hovering independent from the rest of the world. Confused, Michelle turned back around to see that Spice was waving frantically at her, her mouth open, but as the other woman looked on, she realized that no words or sounds were coming out.

“Wha-?” Michelle couldn’t even finish the question before her vision suddenly went dark when a pair of gloved hands clapped themselves over her eyes.

“Guess who?!” shouted a voice.

The shriek Michelle made would have deafened a dog. The peals of laughter that soon followed were nearly as loud.

“Hahahaha! Oh God, I got you good, didn’t I?”

Michelle quickly whirled around as the gloved hands were removed from her eyes and found her vision filled with a laughing white and red painted face. A tall, young woman was grinning down at her, her skin was a warm brown but her face was painted a brilliant chalk white with red diamonds cutting through each eye and dots on her cheeks as well as cherry-colored overdrawn lips. Her wavy chin-length hair was light blue and lavender stripes and was tucked beneath a white and red swirled beret. She was also wearing a red and white striped blouse with wine-colored pants and suspenders. The other woman’s eyes sparkled, as red as her outfit, as she lifted a finger to her lips, still grinning through her elaborate makeup.

It was at that moment Michelle realized that she couldn’t hear anything, the entire island seemed to have gone deathly silent; she couldn’t even hear the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore.

“Charlotte Peppermint!” Spice’s voice ripped through the strange spell of silence, and Michelle glance up to see her hovering over their heads, her hands on her hips. “Why would you do something so rude to Michelle? She’s a guest on your island and a future family member!”

The woman called Peppermint snorted. “Oh, come on, Auntie Spice! I’d bet my hat you did the exact same thing when you first met her.”

Spice looked miffed at this remark, her face going as red as Peppermint’s lipstick at the fact that her assertion was indeed true. “Well, I mean…That’s all the more reason for you not to do it! She’s already had one scare today!” With a huff, Spice zipped past both Michelle, who was still trying to recover, and the other woman called Peppermint, who was apparently Spice’s niece.

“And would you turn the sound back on, please?!” Spice called back, clearly a little irritated.

Peppermint rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” She then snapped her fingers, and just like that, the island came to life again as all its sounds abruptly returned. Michelle’s ears were once again filled with the crashing of the sea on the shore, the bustling of the people moving about the streets: shouting, laughing, crying and cheering all throughout the capitol of Lollipop City.

Michelle looked back at Peppermint, who was wiggling her fingers at her with a knowing smile. “Pretty cool, huh? It’s called the Calm-Calm Fruit.”

The other woman looked at her, blinking rather rapidly. “Y-Yeah, it is.”

“I guess I should introduce myself properly: Charlotte Peppermint, Executive of the Big Mom Pirates, Assistant Minister of Candy and the oldest child of Charlotte Perospero and Winter.” She then held out a red and white glove for Michelle to shake.

She did. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh! Candy Cane, I was wondering where you got to!” Spice was heard talking to someone else further up the dock.

Michelle turned their way to see Spice speaking to a tall, thin man wearing a mint green waist coat with large red and white striped buttons. He had tanned skin and wavy blue hair that was tied in a low ponytail and swept over one shoulder. The man also had the same ruby red eyes as Peppermint.

“Hey bro! You’re late” Peppermint called to the young man, rushing over to where he and Spice were talking on the dock. Michelle had to quietly hobble after her. Why did everyone in this family move so fast?!

The young man that Spice had addressed as Candy Cane glanced their way as Peppermint ran up to him. “I’m only late, Pep, because you were in too much of a hurry to get down here and knocked over that cotton candy vendor’s cart.” He growled in irritation as he picked pieces of pink floss out of his hair.

Peppermint snorted, barely stifling a laugh behind her hand. “Sorry about that.” She then turned to Michelle. “Michelle, I’d like you to meet my younger twin brother Candy Cane. He’s also an Executive of the Big Mom Pirates and he’s the Assistant Minister of Marshmallow.”

“Call me CC,” Candy Cane added, stretching out his gloved hand to Michelle, “You must be Uncle Cracker’s fiancée. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It really is!” Peppermint added enthusiastically, “We were so thrilled to hear that Uncle Cracker was getting married! And you seem like a sweetheart, I’m sure you’ll keep him at bay though.” She added with a wink, which made Michelle blush.

Spice suddenly clapped her hands. “Alright troops! Time to move out; we don’t want to keep your mother and aunts waiting!”

With that, Peppermint and CC lead Spice and Michelle off the docks of the Sweet n’ Sour Port and into the epicenter of Lollipop City. While they walked, the twins talked enthusiastically about Cracker as they both seemed to share a great admiration for him. Michelle eventually learned that this was because he had trained both of them in swordsmanship when they were younger, and they even showed her the blades they each kept at their hip. Peppermint’s was called Uzumaki and CC’s was called Kasane, and they were both Meito ranked swords like Cracker’s Pretzel.

All the while, Spice floated in the air ahead of them, talking on occasion with a several passersby, all of whom were very impressed and flattered to be in the presence of one of Big Mom’s infamous Sweet Commanders.

Eventually, Michelle’s attention was pulled away from the twins and returned to the impressive architecture of Candy Island’s capitol. The further into the city they went, the more elaborate and beautiful the buildings seemed to get.

“This place is so gorgeous,” Michelle whispered, slightly breathless.

“Yeah, our dad’s one of the best Devil Fruit user’s in Tottoland,” CC agreed, smiling proudly. “He can make just about anything with his Lick-Lick Fruit’s powers.”

As Michelle looked at him, she could definitely see something of Perospero in his eye shape and countenance, although it was abundantly clear that both he and his sister had inherited the majority of their traits from their mother. She was a Farfallen, as Spice had mentioned, and while Michelle knew little about the rather elusive ethnic group, she did recognize the dark skin, curly hair and brilliant red eyes as telltale signs of the twin’s mixed heritage.

“Wait until you see the castle he built for our mother though!” Peppermint interjected, jerking Michelle from her thoughts, “It’s magnificent!”

No sooner had she said this, that the little group rounded the corner into the central square of Lollipop City’s downtown district, and Michelle’s breath really was taken away as she gazed upon the massive structure at the very center of the island. The palace was constructed entirely of a smooth crystalline rock candy in a beautiful ice blue that glistened in the sun like diamonds. Its spires reached up to the heavens, dwarfing every other building around it, and every inch, every detail was painstakingly crafted, woven all together into a truly stunning display.

“Wow!” Michelle looked on in awe.

“I know right!” Spice exclaimed, “I always love coming here; it’s like my second home.” She added wistfully, the same nostalgic expression on her face as the one Michelle probably wore when they were riding on the boat.

“Wait until you see the inside,” Peppermint added, taking Michelle’s hand and pulling her along up the steps and towards the massive front doors. The air was instantly filled with a crisp, minty scent, sharp like the winter air after a fresh snow.

Over their heads, Spice phased through the towering double doors and then opened them from the inside for the other three. They swung inwards to reveal a sprawling high-ceilinged entryway accented by a glittering crystal white chandelier that illuminated a sprawling spiral staircase that twisted up towards the high ceiling.

“Hey, you guys!” an accusatory voice interupted Michelle from admiring the impressive entryway. She glanced up in time to see a girl in her early teens sliding down the bannister at an almost dizzying pace. “Why did you leave without me?! I wanted to go to the docks too!” The young girl continued as she gracefully landed on her feet at the bottom of the stairs. She looked to be around thirteen or fourteen with the same warm brown skin as Peppermint and CC, but her eyes were deep chocolate color that Michelle recognized to be identical to Perospero’s. She also had thick dark brown curls that cascaded all around her shoulders and fell past her waist. It accented the white lacey dress she was wearing with a large red satin bow tied around her waist. However, her most bizarre accessory, was a holly wreath resting in her hair that had four lit candles nestled amongst the berries and leaves; they gave off a pleasant yet striking glow.

It somewhat reminded Michelle of the strange sparking accessories Cracker would often wear in his hair.

“Hi there,” she said to the girl, who was still fixing Peppermint and CC with an accusatory glare.

“We’re sorry, Yuley,” CC was saying to her, “But you were taking too long in the kitchen.”

“Ooh were you making chocolates?!” Spice floated down closer to the girl, hovering a few inches above the candles on her head. “You’ll have to let me try some.”

The young girl glance up, and her face instantly broke into a wide smile, her previous anger instantly evaporating. “Sure! I’d love to, Auntie Spice!”

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself to Michelle?” CC added pointedly. “She said hi to you already.”

“Huh? Oh hi.” The younger girl waved at Michelle. “I’m Charlotte Yule. Nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Yule.” Michelle smiled warmly, “You’re Peppermint and CC’s little sister, right?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“And I heard you say you made some chocolates? I would love to try some.”

Yule’s expression brightened at this. “Really?! That would be awesome!” She then held out her red gloved hands and instantly a pool of rich brown chocolate appeared in her cupped palms. Before Michelle’s eyes, it hardened into a sphere the size of a golf ball. “I’ve been working on it for a very long time and it’s almost perfect,” Yule explained. “Ever since I first ate the Choc-Choc and became a Chocolate Human.”

“Oh, I see! So, it’s a Devil Fruit?” Michelle was always amazed at how many members of the Charlotte Family had Devil Fruit abilities, but she supposed it made sense given the power and influence of its matriarch.

A Spice soul projection suddenly swooped down like a hawk and snatched the ball of chocolate out of Yule’s hands. It then tossed it to the real Spice, who quickly caught it and gulped it down in one bite. “Oh wow! That’s so yummy, Yuley. You really are getting good at this.”

“Hey! Auntie Spice, that one was for Michelle!”

“Oh well, you snooze you lose,” Spice replied with a wink.

“What’s all the yelling about?” called a voice from the top of the stairs.

Michelle glance up just as a middle-aged woman draped in a snow leopard fur coat appeared above them. She momentarily wondered if this was the children’s mother as she had the same deep skin tone and the ruby red eyes of a Farfallen. They were paired with sapphire blue boxed braids that were pulled into a high ponytail. She also had a rather severe expression as she eyed Michelle momentarily before turning her gaze to Spice, who was zipping around in the air while Yule continued to yell up at her.

“You’re rather late, Spice. I take it it’s because you were fooling around.”

“Oh, come on! Life’s too short not to be fooling around a little now and then!” Spice replied before finally landing on the stairs beside the blue-haired woman. “Good to see you, North. It’s been a while.”

Oh, so this isn’t the kid’s mom. Spice said her name was Winter, Michelle thought. She said North was one of her sisters.

“Come on, kids.” North addressed the children, “Upstairs, chop chop!”

“Yes, Auntie!” Peppermint, CC and Yule all immediately complied, scampering up the stairs and almost leaving Michelle behind.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Spice floated back over to her, “Sorry but the Candy Palace has a lot of stairs. I should tell Brother Peros to make a candy escalator.” With that, she gently gripped Michelle around the waist and lifted her off the ground, carrying her through the air at a much slower pace than the first time, floating after the kids and their aunt as they made their way to the top of the massive staircase.

As Spice and Michelle followed them, a sudden chill washed over Michelle that was intense enough to send a shiver down her spine. She gripped Spice tighter, suddenly envious of her large sweater as her teeth began to chatter. The air had grown raw with a bitter cold so unbecoming of a summer climate like Candy Island.

“W-What’s going on?!” Michelle stammered, “Is the air conditioner broken?”

“Nah, it’s always like this,” Peppermint explained, and Michelle then noticed she and her siblings were all pulling on heavy coats from a nearby closet. Of course, hers and CC’s were both red and white striped while Yule’s was chocolate brown. “Our mom likes it this way.”

“It reminds us of home,” North added, her heavy leopard print cloak suddenly making a lot more sense.

As soon as Spice set Michelle down, she quickly thrown on her own coat that she’d brought along, immediately grateful for the warmth it provided.

“So, I take it you’re from a Winter Island then?” she added to North.

“No, we’re actually from a Spring island,” she sarcastically replied with a snort, a puff of warm air spouting from her nose like smoke from a dragon.

Spice snickered, nuzzling her neck into the collar of her orange coat with pumpkin-shaped buttons. “North and her sisters are from Hot Coco Island. It’s the largest Farfallen settlement in Tottoland.”

“It used to have a different name,” North muttered as she led the group down the hall and to a large set of double doors, which were coated in pale blue crystalline candy. However, the face on the door had a very red nose and sneezed loudly as the door approached.

“Open up, we’ve got guests,” North addressed the door Homie sharply.

“S-Sorry,” the door sniffed thickly as it swung open. “I’ve gotta cold.”

Michelle quickly followed Spice, North and their nieces and nephew through the doorway to find it led into an elaborate and elegant sitting room. The entire space was draped in thick white furs including all of the sofas, tables and chairs. There was a large polar bear rug next to the hearth which was snoring almost as loud as the crackling of the blue flames roaring in the fireplace. Above this was a massive candy chandelier hanging in the middle of the arched ceiling that resembled a cluster of icicles. The round table in the center of the room was laden with dozens of different treats and sweet as well as variety of both hot and cold drinks. Tiny snowball Homies were hopping around the frost-covered tablecloth on spindly little legs, arranging everything into its proper place.

Across the room, a woman sat at the opposite end of the large table in a grand high-backed chair. She was quite tall, even taller than North who looked to be nearly seven feet, and she was also incredibly beautiful. There was an air of maturity and grace to her posture despite the fact that her dark skin still looked bright and youthful. It matched her full, curly hair, which was a rich dark brown, like burnt wood, that lay elegantly swept over her right shoulder. It framed a rather curious half face mask that seemed to be made of pieces of crystalized ice which stretched over her right eye. The left was more visible, but both were a deep blood red color, accented by elaborate white and blue makeup as well as glossy shimmer across her cheeks and brow that looked almost like frost. Her lips were blue as if from cold but was in fact a shade of ice blue lipstick with the same white shimmer on top. Her dress was as blue as her lips and the candy of the palace, covered in what seemed like hundreds of rhinestones which were strategically placed to cover her body across the translucent fabric. Over the gown, the woman wore a massive fur coat that was so white it seemed to glow. It swept all around her body, wrapping around the chair like the train of a wedding gown. Its alabaster shade matched the shinning white makeup and the dusting of white powder in her hair, which quickly lead Michelle to realize that it was in fact snowing in the room. Soft drifts were collecting on the polished floor as snowflakes drifted lazily through the air.

As the group entered, the woman stood up to her full height which seemed to be a little over eight feet. Her three children quickly crossed the room towards her. Michelle watched, still somewhat transfixed, as each of the kids pull off one of their respective gloves and the woman did the same with one of her own white pair. Each child then placed their hands against the woman’s own palm to palm as a kind of greeting. Her smile was enough to warm the whole room as she looked down at each of them; although, she did not speak.

Once this was down, Peppermint and CC moved to sit in chairs on either side of her while Yule walked across the room towards the fire where two young boys were roasting marshmallows in the azure flames, giggling to each other.

The woman, who Michelle knew for certain was Charlotte Winter, then turned her attention to Michelle. Her expression was cold, yet not unkind, perhaps just difficult to read. The young woman silently wondered why she hadn’t said anything to her and tried to fight back some building discomfort.

Winter then looked to North and beckoned her sister over, who quickly moved to stand beside her. “Michelle, come on,” she called after her.

The addressed stiffened in spite of herself. Spice floated down beside her and took her arm. “Come on. You don’t need to be afraid.”

Michelle swallowed anyways. “Yeah…I know.” She then let Spice lead her over to the two sisters, standing side by side. As they approached, Winter leaned over and whispered something in North’s ear.

“My sister says she likes your dress,” North then said, which gave Michelle pause.

“Oh! T-Thank you,” she quickly stammered, instinctually fisting a handful of the purple fabric of her skirt. The dress in question had been a present from Cracker.

Winter then smiled at Michelle and held up her still ungloved hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Michelle reached up and pressed her own palm against hers.

As soon as she did so, a feeling of sudden warmth seemed to spread from the place where their skin was touching. It moved throughout Michelle’s body: going up her arm, unfolding in her chest and spreading down to the tips of her toes and the top of her head. She inhaled sharply, startled but no longer afraid. In fact, this curious warm sensation brought with it a sense of comfort, of safety. She felt welcome.

“Thank you…” Michelle whispered breathlessly.

Winter nodded, her smile now as warm as the glint in her partially concealed eyes.

At that moment, a side door to the room opened, breaking the spell between Winter and Michelle. Two more women strode into the room. The first one was well over nine feet tall. She was wearing a full-length black gown, her bare arms were covered only by elbow high black gloves, and she had a dark fur cloak draped over her shoulders. Her skin was slightly lighter than Winter and North’s as was her hair, which was sky blue and incredibly curly. In the center of her brow was a silver ornament in the shape of a sun. However, what immediately drew Michelle’s attention was the baby boy she was holding in her arms. He was wrapped in a nest of white furs, dozing lightly. His skin was dark and a bit ruddy from sleep, his scarlet eyes droopy and his blue and purple hair a bit messy, falling out of what seemed to be a naturally pointed shape.

“Look who just woke up,” the tall woman remarked, cradling the baby tenderly in her large muscular arms, a pure white sword with a fur guard hung from her hip.

Michelle’s grip tightened on Spice’s arm. “You didn’t tell me there was going to be a baby,” she whispered frantically.

Spice gave her an odd look. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not! I love babies!”

Winter and North looked her way, the former then whispered once more in the latter’s ear.

“My sister says you can hold him if you want,” North then added.

“So, this must be Cracker’s fiancée,” the woman with the baby remarked, striding over to them. “Michelle, right?”

“Oh! This is Michelle?!” the second woman than rushed past the first. She hardly seemed bothered by the cold and the snow as her arms were bare as well save high dark gloves. Her gown was made of a graham cracker bodice with a waterfall of chocolate fabric draped over her shoulder and swirling around her waist in a full skirt. As she ran up to Michelle, her energetic gate was framed by dark bushy hair not unlike a lion’s mane, her crimson eyes bright and cheerful. Michelle could also see that her white earrings and necklace were actually tiny marshmallows. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Charlotte Samore, Oven’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Michelle replied with a polite nod of her head. Samore’s smiled widened, squeezing her hands slightly in her own.

“And I’m Crystal,” added the woman with the baby. “I’m the middle triplet of these two,” she added, gesturing to Winter and North.

“You guys are triplets?” Michelle was surprised.

“Yep. Winter’s the oldest, and I’m the youngest,” North replied.

“Kinda cool, huh?” Spice added, “Multiples even marry into the Charlotte Family!”

“In our culture, having three children at once is considered good luck,” Crystal added, settling down on the couch beside Winter’s chair. “Now did you want to hold Chestnut?”

“Yes please!” Michelle quickly dropped down on the couch beside the older woman, instantly feeling dwarfed beside her massive stature. Crystal gently passed her the baby, Chestnut she had called him, and Michelle eagerly took him into her arms.

The sleepy baby looked up at her, his eyes lighting up as he grew more awake, gazing up at her. Michelle smiled down at him. “Hi, little man. I’m Michelle. I’m gonna be your new auntie.”

At her words, the baby raised one of his chubby fists, gurgling through one of those lopsided grins babies do. Michelle reached out and let the baby grab on of her fingers with his tiny hands, noticing that even he was wearing little blue gloves. Her heart melted despite the chill of the room.

“Auntie Michelle?! I wanna meet Auntie Michelle!” two voices cried in unison, causing the young woman to look up. She had nearly forgotten about the two little boys roasting marshmallows by the fireplace with Yule. At once, they both jumped up and raced over to where Michelle was sitting on the couch with Chestnut and Crystal.

She could now see that the two boys were nearly identical. They both had the same tanned skin, red eyes and curly blue purple hair, although the latter was parted on opposite sides. They were both dressed in neat little brown jackets with matching bowler hats. One boy had on green trousers with brown squares on it and a matching bowtie while the other had red trousers with brown polka dots and a matching bowtie.

“I’m Charlotte Fudge!” announced the boy with the squared bowtie.

“I’m Charlotte Truffle!” added the boy with spotted bowtie.

“It’s nice to meet you, Auntie Michelle!” they added at the same time, bowing in unison.

“It’s very nice to meet you too,” Michelle replied, nodding her head in acknowledgement while Chestnut giggled on her lap. “And how old are you boys?’

“Ten!” they replied together, holding up both their hands for emphasis.

“My hair grows clockwise; can you see it?” Fudge added, spinning clockwise as he spoke.

“My hair grows counter-clockwise, can you tell?” Truffle added, spinning in the opposite direction.

Their antics were suddenly interupted by a tiny voice clearing its throat. Everyone turned to see one of the snowball Homies that had been setting up for the tea party was standing at attention at the head of the table. “Ladies, gentleman, your afternoon tea is served!”

“Yay!” Truffle and Fudge cheered as they quickly raced to their seats, eagerly grabbing at whatever treats they could reach.

“Manners boys!” North scolded. “Peppermint, pass the whiskey.”

Michelle quickly learned that “tea’ was a bit of a lose term as several types of booze were quickly passed around the table, including wine, rum, and whiskey. Fudge and Truffle drank rich homemade hot chocolate and Yule ended up being the only one that actually had tea, while aside from Michelle as she was not usually one for day drinking. North and Samore meanwhile threw black glasses of whiskey and scotch like it was nothing, Spice guzzled heavy spiked cider while Crystal nursed a cup of rum and Winter sipped a glass of wine. The whole group quickly indulged in all of the candies and sweets available, including Yule’s chocolates, and after a while, North and Winter both lit cigarettes and the whole table started a round of cards.

Michelle supposed she should expect this; after all, nearly all of them were pirates. Even fourteen-year-old Yule was an apprentice in the Big Mom crew.

At first, Michelle mostly talked with Crystal, and through her, she learned a bit more about the Farfallen tribe she and her sisters came from. The technical name of their clan was the Tallay Tribe, and their Winter Island home was originally called Boreas Island. Two and a half decades ago, Big Mom had absorbed their homeland into Tottoland through an arranged marriage between her eldest son Perospero and the previous ruler of Boreas Island King Frost’s eldest daughter Winter.

“Boreas Island was eventually renamed Hot Coco Island,” Crystal explained, “That’s our main export, and for the time being, I’m acting as Minister of Marshmallow while Candy Cane is my apprentice. While it’s a position in the Tottoland government, its also a replacement position for the monarchy of our tribe. Winter is rightfully the ruler of our people, but she had to leave our island to live with her husband, so I’m acting on her behalf.”

Michelle found all of this rather interesting. She also learned that Crystal was a swordswoman like her niece and nephew and the sword at her side was called Yeti. It was also a Meito-ranked blade.

Crystal eventually moved to sit beside North, so she could participate in the card game, and Winter took her spot on the couch beside Michelle, seemingly not interested in playing. She continued to sip her drink, taking the occasional drag of her cigarette while watching her children and sisters as well as her in-law Samore, all the while not saying a word out loud.

For her part, Michelle remained on the couch beside Winter, sipping her tea and cuddling Chestnut who had fallen back asleep in his bundle of furs on her lap. She was rather overwhelmed, everyone around her had rather large, bombastic personalities as they all gossipped and scrambled around the table, talking over one another and eating off one another’s plates, even fighting over food in the twins’ cases. They Farfallen would also occasionally slip in and out of a language that Michelle couldn’t understand. Fudge and Truffle both seemed a bit lost with it as well; they eventually grew bored of cards and quickly found a new game of chasing the snowball Homies around the room.

“So, Spice, any update on my situation?” North was saying to the Sweet Commander.

Spice pursed her lips. “I’m afraid not. Mama’s been sitting on this issue for a while now, and she’s not giving us a whole lot of insight into her plans.”

“I’m afraid, I’m not up to date with this matter,” Samore interjected. “Are you referring to that issue involving Kaido?”

Michelle choked on the sugar cookie she’d been munching on, nearly hacking up a lung and unfortunately waking up Chestnut, who started to cry. Winter eventually took him back, waving off Michelle’s apology, the young woman’s face was red both from nearly choking and embarrassment. She glanced at the other women, who had turned their attention towards the slight commotion.

“I’m sorry, but did you say Kaido?! As in the Emperor of the Sea?!”

“Are there any others?” North replied, throwing her hand of cards down on the table with an agitated snarl, “A few months ago, I came across a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit, and Kaido wants it, or more specifically, he wants me.”

Michelle was aghast.

“And we know he’s serious about it,” Peppermint added, “He even offered Grandma’s weight in oshiruko soup.”

“Yeah, but Mama would only agree to an arrangement if Kaido traded North for King.” Spice added.

North snorted, “As if that would ever happen. I’m not worth losing his Vice-Captain.”

“Big Mom has some nerve suggesting such a thing,” Samore agreed.

“At this point, we should just have a Davy Back Fight,” Peppermint piped up, dealing everyone else cards.

Crystal gave her niece a horrified look. “Don’t even joke about that!”

“Yeah that would go tits up real fucking fast,” North mused, “I mean we barely held it together for the wedding.”

“Any interactions with the Beast Pirates tend to sour very quickly,” CC remarked, “Even just with low level grunts coming into Tottoland. I think they’re called ‘Pleasures’ or something, but a fight nearly always breaks out.”

“Having even one of the Calamities in conflict with our crew would be ten times worse,” Crystal agreed.

“Let alone Kaido and his bitch of a wife,” North added.

“I dunno, when we met her at the wedding, I thought she was kinda cool,” Peppermint asserted, shuffling the cards between her hands.

“You would think that, Pep,” her twin replied, rolling his eyes.

North scowled. “She had a very high opinion of herself.”

“I’m honestly surprised Big Mom hasn’t just tried to buy King from Kaido,” Samore mused, “I mean, it’s how she got me from that Celestial Dragon.”

Michelle was reeling. This whole conversation was just too much. She decided to just focus on sipping her now cold tea while Winter rocked Chestnut gently beside her. At one point, the two women’s eyes met, and Winter winked at her behind her mask.

The party went on for a long time. Spice got rather drunk after a while and entertained the children with stories from her duties as a Sweet Commander, including one of a battle between her forces and a member of the Worst Generation, Eustass “Captain” Kid and his crew.

“And then I launched him overboard!” she exclaimed, snorting into her drink, her face as red as the Farfallen’s eyes. “Right into the grape juice sea! His bucket-headed Vice-Captain had to jump in after him.”

“I did hear a rumor you admitted to thinking he was cute after he flirted with you though,” Peppermint chimed in. “He called you ‘sugar tits’ or something and made you blush.”

Spice growled, pointing a finger at her niece. “Watch it, Charlotte Peppermint, or I’ll revoke your pumpkin pie privileges.”

Michelle had to laugh at that, wondering if that was even a thing Spice could do. Well, there were stranger rules in Tottoland, she supposed.

All of the talking, drinking, laughing and eating carried on for so long, the tall, narrow windows lining the perimeter of the parlor began to cast longer and longer shadows across the icy floor.

Chestnut had finished napping and Michelle was now helping his mother feed him his bottle. Truffle and Fudge had seemingly made peace with the snowball Homies and were now racing them across the hearth by the light of its dying blue embers.

The gathering was so lively that everyone was a little taken aback when the doors suddenly burst open.

Michelle glance up in time to see Charlotte Perospero, the eldest child of Big Mom, stride into the room. Behind him, was Charlotte Katakuri, another of the Sweet Commanders.

“Father!” Fudge and Truffle instantly abandoned their game with the snowball Homies and rushed to Perospero’s side as he approached the table.

“Good evening, my boys! How are you?” Perospero exclaimed as Truffle and Fudge each grabbed a fistful of his long yellow coat, both babbling in unison about their hair, the snowball Homies and different types of candy. Eventually, Katakuri pulled them off their dad by the scruff of their necks, and they eventually ended up on his shoulders.

“Hiya Katakuri!” Spice zipped up into the air, hovering over him, “What brings you here? Did you finally decide to try out having some fun?” She giggled rather loudly at her own joke. After eating her weight in pumpkin cookies and cinnamon bread, she’d sobered up some but was still energetic and somewhat tipsy.

Katakuri gave his baby sister a cold look. “Spice, don’t you have important work to take care of for our mother?”

Spice scoffed, crossing her arms. “That stuff is not nearly as important as quality family time.”

“Hello, Katakuri.” Crystal called to him before the disagreement could progress any further, “How’s your wife doing?”

“Are you letting her leave the house?” North added, resulting in her sister smacking her upside the back of the head. “Ow!”

Meanwhile, Perospero had moved from talking with his older children and made his way over to Winter. “How are you doing, my love?” he asked, kneeling down so he was eye level with her and their son. He then leaned and whispered something in her ear. Winter’s smile was brighter than the sun pendent on Crystal’s brow as she then whispered something in her husband’s ear in response. Perospero chuckled, reaching out to stroke their son’s head, resting on his mother’s lap between them. Michelle noted that she had never seen Big Mom’s fearsome eldest child look so soft before. She wondered if that was the way Cracker looked to other people when he was around her.

“I think it’s time for me to leave,” Samore announced, getting up from the table. “Oven will want me home for dinner.”

“I can give you a lift, if you want,” Spice called to her from where she was lazily turning loop de loops in midair.

Samore raised an eyebrow at her. “Will you be okay to drive the Peter Midnight?”

“Of course, I am! I gotta take Michelle home anyways!”

“I’ll take you back.” Katakuri interjected, setting Truffle and Fudge down as he spoke, making both boys whine in disappointment.

“That’s not necessary, Big Brother. We’re going in the complete opposite direction from you, and you don’t wanna keep Sakura waiting-”

“I think it would be best if I accompany you and the other women home.”

“Katakuri, I’m not a kid anymore, you don’t have to-”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Spice. It’s decided.” Katakuri’s voice had nearly reached a snarl as he stared his sister down. There was also a sudden surge of something vibrant and almost static in the air between the two siblings, a twinge of menace hanging on the edge of the atmosphere they created. After a tense pause, Spice opened her mouth about halfway, seemingly going to argue with her older brother further but thought better of it a second later and snapped it shut.

“I appreciate it, Katakuri,” Samore gave him a warm smile, defusing the situation.

“Yeah whatever. Come on, Michelle, let’s get going.” Spice called to her, floating towards the door.

“Okay,” Michelle quickly got up from the couch, more than a little intimidated by Katakuri as she had been when she’d first met him.

Perospero looked her way as she did, giving her a sly grin from behind his large tongue. “Hello again, Michelle. It’s good to see you. I trust my brother is treating you well.”

“Very much so. Thank you, sir.” Michelle replied, instinctively smoothing down the skirt of her dress poking out of the bottom of her heavy coat.

“Let me know if you ever need anything, my dear,” Perospero added, reaching out and taking her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Winter then leaned into her husband and whispered something in his ear.

“My wife says you are welcome to visit us any time you’d like.”

“Yeah please come back, Michelle!” Peppermint chimed in.

“Bring Uncle Cracker next time too,” CC added. “He needs to visit us again.”

“Come back and play with us, Auntie Michelle,” Truffle and Fudge added.

“I’ll be doing an apprenticeship with my Aunt Pudding on Cacao Island,” Yule added, “You should swing by some time for more chocolate.”

“Ok, I will.” Michelle agreed with a smile. “Thank you all for a lovely afternoon.” She then leaned in and tickled Chestnut’s chin, causing the baby to laugh. “Goodbye, little man.”

“Come on, Michelle! We should leave before it gets too dark!” Spice called to her.

“Coming!” Michelle made her way across the room as quick as she could, following after Spice, Samore and Katakuri. “Goodbye, everyone! Thanks again!”

“Goodbye, Michelle!” North called after her.

“Take care!” Crystal added with a wave.

Michelle waved back as she passed through the double doors, they closed after her with a rather loud sneeze.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, Katakuri for taking us home,” Michelle addressed the eldest Sweet Commander.

“Don’t thank him yet,” Spice interjected before her brother could respond, “The Peter Midnight will be very grumpy to have someone else driving it.”

“That boat of yours listens to me, Spice. Now stop pouting, it’s unbecoming of you,” Katakuri scolded.

“I’ll show you what’s unbecoming of-”

“Spice!”

“Fine, fine.” Spice then stifled a yawn. “I guess I am a bit too tired to drive anyways.”

Samore laughed at the siblings bickering before falling into step beside Michelle. “You should come visit me and my husband on Yakigashi Island some time. My kids would love to meet you.”

Michelle smiled at her. “That sounds great. I’d loved to.”

“Hey Katakuri, North was kidding about you letting your wife leave the house, right?”

“Sakura is perfectly free to do whatever she likes, Spice.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Spice, can I ask you something?” Michelle approached the other woman, who was dozing on top of the Peter Midnight’s figurehead with her hands behind her head. They had recently dropped off Samore on her home island and now the little boat just consisted of the two young woman and Katakuri at the helm. Even though the boat wasn’t moving nearly as fast without Spice driving it, they were still making pretty decent progress, even with the steadily creeping darkness of night.

“Yeah? What’s up, Michelle?” Spice cracked an eye open at her.

“Can I-Can I ask why Winter never spoke to me directly? She was always whispering in her sister’s or husband’s ear.”

Spice sighed, sitting up and lowering her arms. “I told you before we arrived at the island that it wasn’t anything you did. Winter is that way with anyone she doesn’t know very well. She has trouble speaking to people she doesn’t trust completely, so anyone outside of her immediate family for the most part.”

Michelle’s eyes widened. “Why is that?”

Spice shrugged. “We’re not really sure. Perospero told me that Winter suffered a lot of trauma when her mother died suddenly several years ago. She saw the whole thing happen, and she never forgot it. She’s been that way ever since.”

Michelle looked down at her shoes, swallowing thickly. “I see. I feel bad for her; she’s so kind.”

She looked back up to see Spice staring off at the sea, her smile wistful. “She is. Winter and Perospero helped me a lot when I was a kid, and hey, even if she can’t communicate normally, she can still convey her feelings to those she loves most in the world.” Spice then held up her hand to indicate what she meant.

Michelle looked down at her own palm, remembering when Winter had pressed her hand against it and the warm feeling that had washed over her as a result.

She smiled, “Yeah. You’re right.”

 To Be Continued in “Michelle Goes to Komugi Island”