#trying to teeter on how far i can go w/ my appearance

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I'm Yours, You're Mine | 5

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: Cheating, yandere!felix, sub!felix, mention of blackmail, public sex, pussy eating, guided masturbation?, fingering, hella jealousy, assault mention, jisung inclusion lmao

A/N: link to the gorgeous dress the OC wears made a super lovely anon thank you babe

GIF CREDIT

“What is taking you so long?” You grunt, walking into the kitchen to find the freckled boy pulling a tray out of the oven. At the sound of your voice, he springs up and flashes you a brilliant smile that explains just why he’s nicknamed the sunshine boy. You smile bitterly at the reminder. Oh, how you used to believe that.

“I just finished the brownies for the picnic, noona.” He chirps happily, looking so angelic, like a bad thought never crossed his mind ever.

Felix wants to take you on a romantic picnic date beside the river. He volunteered to do everything, making you both the food and drinks you’ll need so all you’ll have to do is sit there and enjoy the pleasant early summer weather.

Taking a deep breath, you steal yourself, preparing for the transformation you’ve come to expect from him. “Oh, we’re not going on a picnic. I changed my mind. I wanna go to the mall instead.”

You know the commercial, impersonal place would upset the sentimental boy, and that’s why you do it. The sharp fall of his smile makes your heart stop for a second and your body stiffen, preparing for an attack.

“What?” He asks gruffly.

“I need new summer clothes.” You try to appear nonchalantly.

“Can’t you do that any other time?”

“I want to do it today.” You shrug, stopping yourself from flinching as you see his jaw clench. “You promised you’d take care of me. You promised you’d do what I want.” You remind him of the promises he made after attacking you last time. The promises he made to make you give him another chance. You didn’t believe in any of his promises, and you were provoking him on purpose to prove that he can’t himself in check so you’d have a reason to call this whole thing off.

And it seems he’s getting there. “But we agreed on this date. I prepared a lot for this. I made you fucking brownies.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.” You accuse, and he flinches, his body immediately deflating as the anger rushes out of him. “No, I won’t. It’s okay. We can go wherever you want, noona. You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

You didn’t expect this reaction from him. You thought he’d lash out again. Maybe it really was a mistake like he said, and you should give him another chance. You’re lost in contemplation when his soft, low voice breaks through to you.

“Would you at least try the brownies?” He pleads, his pretty eyes sparkling, making you believe that the universe truly is a cruel, uncaring place if the stars would agree to light up the eyes of someone like him. Still, you can’t resist the constellations reflected in his eyes and onto his cheeks, finding yourself compelled to lean down and press a kiss to his pouty lips.

You suck in a sharp breath at the exploding light that brightens his face at such a small action, like a supernova, blazing your cold heart.

“Okay.” You breathe, and he, giddy with excitement, cuts off a piece for you. You reach out for it but he swings his hand out of the way, wanting to feed it to you himself. You open your mouth and accept the food, biting a piece of it off and chewing it.

Felix watches you with bated breath, as if your opinion would win him a national baking competition. You’re scared by how much you’re enjoying his attention, and it scares you. It’s too easy to get addicted to him.

“How do you like it, noona?”

“It’s sublime.” You smile, the divine taste of the dessert and his angelic features could fool you into thinking you’re in heaven. How can one person give you such radically conflicting feelings? You feel like you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if at the end of fall you’ll be greeted by the refreshing ocean water or the jagged, deadly rocks.

Felix’s smile gets impossibly wider as he giggles. “I knew you’d like it, baby.” He leans in to give you a peck that’s sweeter than the food you just had.

______________________________

You can’t find anything you like. Nothing at all.

Frustrated, you turn to Felix who had been following you obediently like a little puppy through the countless stores.

“I don’t know. Do you see anything good?” You huff, and he seems surprised by your question, not having expected you to actually take his opinion, albeit how last choice it is. You feel bad. He not only didn’t complain like he promised, even though you cancelled the picnic he wanted, but he actually hyped you up and showered you with compliments every time you’d try on something new.

“What do you like your girl to wear?” You tease him, knowing your words will bring a pretty blush to his face.

“I--I like dresses.” He replies sheepishly.

“Yeah? Like what? Show me.”

It’s your turn to follow him around as he bashfully picks out a few dresses for you. You notice they're all so girly and pretty with bows and frills and lace. Seems like he has a type.

“Do you want me to try them on, baby?” You ask when he hands them to you.

“Please.” He breathes, impatient to see them on you and you think it's adorable how excited he is. You don’t wear dresses, and you know you won’t wear these, but you try them on just for him, not expecting how much his reaction will affect you.

"Wow." He sucks in a breath, his widened eyes taking in every inch of you. Smirking, you ask, "You like it that much?"

He nods vigorously, looking at you with adoration and want you’ve never had directed at you before. It takes your breath away, how genuine it looks, compelling you to do everything in your power to earn it.

The dress is made of a pretty pink Chiffon material, with a pink bow circling under the chest and a sweetheart neckline that exposes your collarbones and dips down to show quite a bit of cleavage, serving to emphasize your breasts that Felix can’t take his eyes off of. The contrast between the light and princessy look of the flowy skirt, and the seductive neckline hints at a certain corruption of innocence begging to be undertaken.

But just as you prepare to be engulfed in the sparkly blue-green of the ocean water, you find yourself crumpling over the rocks as Felix pulls out his phone to take a picture of you.

“You and your pictures.” You comment bitterly, happiness gone. “Gonna blackmail me over this too?”

He gasps, and the hand holding his phone immediately drops down, as if he couldn’t believe you’d say that.

“What, did you forget that you forced me into this?” You mock, “I bet you’re loving this. Making me do this. Dressing me up like I’m your doll? I bet your little dick is hard right now.”

He shakes his head, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to deny your words or just defend his actions. Pulling him close by his jeans, you press your thigh between his legs and laugh when it’s met by his hard-on. “See? I know everything that goes on in your sick brain.”

“Just wanna be good for you.” He whimpers, but even as he says that, his eyes fall to your breasts and his hand reaches out to run over the neckline of the dress you have on.

“Of course you do.” You snarl, and he cowers under your harsh tone. But like a kid at a candy store, he can’t stop his hand from straying, his fingers trailing down to circle around your nipples pushing through the soft material of the dress.

Grabbing his wrist, you bring his hand to your mouth and take his middle finger into your mouth, sucking on it lightly, grinning as his knees buckling and a small whimper leaves his lips. He tries to push you back into the fitting room but you don’t budge, taking his finger out of your mouth and humming. "I suddenly want something to suck on. Why don't you buy me a popsicle baby? I'm feeling hot."

He gulps harshly, "Yes, noona."

________

Felix buys all the dresses for you and you keep wearing the pink one, wanting to make him suffer more through the trip.

You strut to the ice cream store, feeling unstoppable in your flowy dress with your lovestruck lover in toe, hand on your waist and eyes glaring at everyone, trying to fend off anyone who would try to approach you.

Felix sits you down in a booth at the far end of the store, hiding you from view as he goes to get what you want. You sigh, playing the skirt of your new dress, lost in thought about Felix and how you feel about him. He’s sweet, addictively so, but he’s volatile and that scares you. Would you pick him over Chan? What if he just wants you because Chan has you? Maybe this is some kind of sick competition for him. Or maybe it’s the contrast with Chan that makes you like him at all. Maybe you’re just upset with Chan.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud, cheery voice. “Noona, how are you?”

Coming out your daze, you blink, taking in the new figure. “Oh, hey, Jisung.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks giddily, eyes raking over your body, stopping over your breasts the same way Felix did, and lingers on them too long. You clear your throat, smirking as his eyes snap back up to your face as he flushes.

You’re quite aware of the crush he has on you. So better get rid of him before Felix comes and throws a tantrum. Unless…

This could be your chance to get back at Felix for what he did to you and for forcing you to go on this date. He can threaten to tell Chan on you but what is he gonna do to Jisung? Nothing.

“I’m just hanging with a friend.” You smile broadly, “Why don’t you join us?”

“Wouldn’t your friend mind?” He asks, already moving to sit down. You grin wickedly, “No, he’ll love it."

“Okay.” He sits down opposite you, unsuspecting of the storm about to come over. Right on time, Felix comes back with your popsicle.

“Oh, hey Lixie! This is Jisung. We work together.” You pull him down, ignoring the sour look on his face.

“Hey!” Jisung pipes up with a friendly wave that Felix doesn’t return. Felix pins the other boy down with a glare that makes Jisung shrink back.

“He’s just a little shy.” You reach over the table and place your hand over his to comfort him, a gesture that only makes Felix angrier and he in turn grabs your thigh under the table and squeezes it in warning. Turning to him, you pluck the popsicle out of his hand and take a big lick. “Hmm, this is tasty.”

You take the part of the popsicle into your mouth, giving Felix a wink before you turn to the other boy. “So, how have you been, Sungie?”

“Um… good.” He fidgets as you swirl your tongue around the popsicle in an obviously suggestive way.

“How's your girlfriend?” You ask, knowing full well that they broke up. His eyes follow your tongue for a second before he clears his throat and answers. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh, no!” You pout, lips cherry colored and glistening with melted ice cream. “That must be very hard for you, baby.”

You feel Felix’s hand clench around your thigh, but you don’t spare him a glance as you continue, “How have you been handling that?”

You place the popsicle back in your mouth, sucking on it enticingly as you eye Jisung up and down and wait for him to answer, but the poor boy can barely string his words together. “It’s--I’m...o-okay.”

Pulling the popsicle out of your mouth with a wet slurp, you smile while licking the tip of the treat. “I’m so glad. Hmm, this is so good.” You moan out, and extend the popsicle towards him. “Wanna try it?”

Jisung chokes on his own spit, and you can tell that a handprint will remain on your upper thigh from how hard Felix’s fingers were digging into your skin.

"No that's okay, noona." Jisung fidgets, and you know he’s rubbing his thighs together under the table. You ignore his refusal, pushing the popsicle towards his mouth. "Come on baby, open up for me."

He obediently opens his mouth despite his refusal, but before he can close his lips around the ice cream, you pull it away with a laugh. "Why don't you stick out your tongue for me?"

He sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes snap to Felix. You can only see the other boy from the corner of your eye, but the rage rolling off of him in waves more than explains the terrified look on your coworker's face. No, that wouldn't do.

Leaning over the table, your ass in Felix’s face barely covered by the short dress, you curl a finger under Jisung’s chin and turn his attention towards you. "Don't look at him baby. Keep your eyes on me."

He nods weakly and you smile, moving to sit back down when Felix grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his lap, a small gasp escaping from your lips as you feel his hard-on against your thin underwear.

Your grin grows bigger, and you grind down on Felix’s dick as you tell Jisung, "Now show me your tongue, baby."

The sight of Jisung’s glazed eyes and pretty tongue out like a cute puppy makes you moan a little, something only Felix can hear. You feel his hand move from your hip to your pussy, fingers rubbing over you now soaked panties. With a shuddering breath, you move the popsicle over Jisung’s tongue, delighted by how he doesn’t pull it back into his mouth until you tell him to.

"Such a good boy." You coo, and you feel Felix’s fingers slip under your panties to rub harshly at your bare pussy. Shuddering, you open your legs wider for him. "He's such a good boy, isn't he, Felix? I bet he'd never act out or disobey me."

Felix grabs your clit between his thumb and index finger and pinches lightly, making you jump in his lap and bounce on his cock, the two of you groaning out in pleasure and making poor Jisung whimper as he clutches hard onto the table to keep from touching himself.

Opening your legs wide, you order Felix, "Put your fingers in me. Wanna show you what you're not getting by being a brat."

His hand leaves the tight circles he’s drawing over you clit and dip down to your hole, plunging a finger right in. “Oh, fuck.” You shudder at the delicious intrusion and the thrust of Felix’s dick against your pussy, the both of you clearly wishing that was his dick instead of his finger.

“Feels good, baby?” You whisper back to Felix and he nods sharply, finger pushing in and out of you incessantly as if you’ll tell him to stop at any moment. "Yeah? Tell Jisung how it feels."

Felix growls against your skin, sinking his teeth into your shoulder angrily, not wanting to think about the other guy with you right now. But you don’t back down. "Tell him or I'll have him find out himself."

He stuffs another finger inside you, and obeys, voice grave and hostile. “Noona’s pussy is tight around my fingers. So soft and wet for me. Only me.”

You laugh breathlessly, bucking your hips against Felix’s hand so that your clit can rub against his palm. Poor Jisung’s hands were white from how tightly he was gripping onto the table, and you’re worried he would either break it or hurt himself.

“You getting turned on watching us, baby?” You drawl, getting his attention. “It’s okay. You can touch yourself.”

As if he was waiting for your permission, Jisung instantly sticks his hand between his legs, and humps against it to relieve some of the pressure.

“Good boy.” You murmur, and Felix abuses the spot he bit in your shoulder again, deeping the mark forming there and making his feelings clear about you praising another guy while he’s fingering you. "Did you fantasize about my pussy, baby?"

“Yes.” Both of them answer, and you laugh.

"Hmm, seems like you've got competition, kitty. Maybe I chose the wrong boy to play with."

Felix stops abruptly, pulling his fingers out of you and pushing you onto the seat next to him. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest, thinking that he’s about to make a scene. Instead, he slips under the table and pulls on your hips so your ass is at the edge of the seat. Yanking your panties off, he spreads your legs wide.

"Gonna prove to you that I'm the one for you." He buries his face in your pussy, angrily licking every little inch of it and sucking harshly on your clit.

“Oh, fuck---Felix!” You moan, grabbing onto his hair as he devours your pussy. “Good boy. This is exactly where you belong.”

From the barely open slit of your eyes you see Jisung frustrated and on the verge of crying as he’s not getting as much stimulation as he needs.

"Pull your pretty cock out for me baby.” You drawl, trying to entice him so he’d forget about being in a public place and give in to you. “Don't be scared. Noona wants you to be dirty."

He discards his fears, pulling his dick out and yanking on it fast.

“Good boy. Such a good boy.” You effuse, and under the table, Felix pulls back to slap your pussy in punishment, furious that you’re still giving Jisung attention even though he’s on his knees under the table eating your pussy out.

“Brat.” You hiss, tugging on his hair and pushing his head back between your legs, grinding your pussy against his face.

"Wanna cum, please." Jisung begs, and you tear your eyes away from Felix’s shiny and livid ones to look over at him. He doesn’t look pretty or angelic as Felix looks even under the cramped table and surrounded by the pink Chiffon as he ignores his need to breathe in favor of pleasing you. Instead, Jisung he looks sweaty and fucked dumb, his eyes barely focused and his jaw hanging open.

"Wait for noona." You gruffly answer, squeaking in surprise as you feel Felix’s tongue push inside your pussy, a growly moan ripping out of him as he feels your tight walls around his tongue.

"You are doing such a good job, kitten.” You purr down to your lover, fucking his pretty face.

“No, I can’t, n-noona… please.” He cries, and you glare at him. “I said wait.”

“Can’t….ahh...noona, I’m sorry….fuck, fuck!” He squeaks, body convulsing as little ropes of white stain his shirt.

Seeing the mess he makes, you’re tipped over the edge yourself, cumming on Felix’s tongue and closing your thighs around his head, trapping him there. Obediently, he stays still as your hips buck a few more times against his face before your body relaxes and your legs fall open.

Felix gives your pussy a couple of soothing licks before he pulls your dress down and emerges from under the table, his face glistening with your cum. Yet somehow, he still looks as delicate and beautiful as ever as leans into your hand cupping his cheek.

“Good boy.” You murmur, your other hand reaching out to palm his crotch when a wet spot surprises you. You raise an eyebrow "oh?"

"I'm sorry. I know you didn’t say I could cum. I just wanted this for so long. Wanted to make you feel as good as you make me feel." He sobs, thinking you'll laugh at him. But you find it so incredibly sexy and flattering. You never thought you'd meet a guy who enjoyed pleasing you that much.

"You did good, baby." You beam, patting his cheek. ”Sitting there while I flirt with another boy? Maybe next I just make you watch while I fuck him. How does that sound? I bet it will make your little cock so hard, you little pervert."

He shakes his head violently, getting upset. "No, please don't. It would kill me. I love you so much." He breaks down and starts babbling about how he never wanted it to be this way. How sorry he is, begging you to not do this again.

"Hush, my dumb kitty." You press your finger against his lips to stop him from talking. “It’s okay. How about we go home and get cleaned up then have some coffee and brownies?"

He nods gratefully, and you’re about to get up when you hear someone cough. You look in front of you and remember that you had a guest.

“Oh, Jisung. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” You say, pulling Felix up and ignoring Jisung’s protests, and walking to the door.

However, Jisung isn’t the only one with something to say. As you’re about to leave the shop, an employee intercepts you. You can immediately tell what he’s going to say from the severe look on his face.

“Please, don’t try to come back to our shop or we’ll have to call the police.”

You nod, cheeks burning in humiliation as you run out and drag a smiling Felix behind you to the car.

__________________

When you head off to work a few days later, you wonder what you’re going to say to Jisung. You had set off to work with a promise to Felix that you’re not gonna pursue anything with the brunette, but he weirdly didn’t seem particularly concerned about the matter, despite how upset he was that day.

Yes, you’d been extra nice to him these past few days, acting much more receptive to his affectionate ways and responding in kind, but you still didn’t expect that much change.

Your brain is buzzing with all the possibilities about how Jisung will react and your lover’s one-hundred-eighty flip in attitude as you step into your office, but then you realize that Jisung isn’t there at all. Asking around, you find out that he’s at the hospital. Apparently he’d injured himself while playing with a knife. You roll your eyes. That boy is a danger to himself.

Still, you decide to go check up on him at the hospital.

You expect him to act awkward around you, to blush and stutter and look away. What you don’t expect is the sheer horror on his face upon seeing you.

“Wow, did I scar you that bad?” Is the first thing you say to him once you’re inside his hospital room.

“Why are you here?” He asks shakily, staring behind you as if he’s expecting someone to pop out from there.

You frown, “I realize I may have crossed the line yesterday but I just wanted to make sure you’re alright."

“I’m fine. Now please leave.”

“Thanks, I’m so reassured right now.” You roll your eyes, moving closer to him. ”How did this even happen? How does one stab their own leg?”

But as you reach out to touch his shoulder, he screams. "Don't touch me! You can't touch me!"

"What's going on? You're freaking me out." You jump back, and once again, he looks behind you. "Does he know you're here?"

"Who?"

"Your boyfriend."

"Chan?” You ask, confused. What does Chan have to do with this? “He doesn't even know you."

"No, Felix. The one that was with you yesterday."

"Felix? He's not my---" Your face suddenly falls as a horrible thought crosses your mind. No. It can’t be. "Did he do this to you?"

Jisung pales and shakes his head violently "No. I told you it was an accident. Now please leave."

He seems to be on the verge of breakdown, and maybe you should try to calm him down, but your mind is in an upheaval right now, and all you could think of is running to Felix to prove to yourself that you’re just being crazy. He would never do something like this, would he? It can’t be. It’s simply outrageous. But then again his weird change in behavior, his volatile attitude that always keeps you on edge… No, that’s crazy talk.

Numbly you go out of the room and make your way to your car to head back home. You’ll talk to Felix and he’ll tell you how stupid you’re being, and it’s all gonna be alright.

__________

A/N: this chapter was written so quickly because of all the lovely feedback you guys gave me so yeah feedback feeds me

[piecksz]

animeverse where eren is still in his cell and hange+others have an idea of bringing ina girl to fuc to 'loosen him up' so he can give info,hange has studies n research to back this up they bring you dressed scantily to go be his whore he knows why ur there n hates u so hes mean and ignores ur advances eventually he hate fucks u w his anger being directed at u from his situation choking xtreme degrading just being rough in general MEAN SERIOUS EREN NO FLUFF OR LOVE

catalyst

eren yeager x reader

warnings: nsfw, roughness, mentions of breeding, degredation, choking, explicit language

a/n: this is my first prompt request n i was vvvv nervous so pls go easy on me ok ok i hope i did your vision justice

“As romantic as this reunion is, it’s not a date, we need answers.” Levi’s words were austere, ricocheting off the passage walls as the three of you traveled deeper below ground. “He’s still a shitty-ass teenager. Hopefully isolation has made him desperate enough for female contact.”

You said nothing, and instead your eyes looked around fretfully. The chamber was inhospitable, forged from naked rock adorned with smoldering torches. Your minimal attire was inapt in its frigid ambience, so you walked clung to yourself, arms wrapped around your bare shoulders to retain as much body heat as you possibly could.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Levi questioned Hange, keeping his attention forward. He maneuvered through the sharp turns of the labyrinth, which gave you the impression he’d had many experiences down in the cells with his comrades.

Hange released a tremulous sigh. “It doesn’t matter. We’re out of options.” Their nervous tone had them looking over their shoulder, reassuring you with a placid smile. The gesture was thoughtful, considering it had felt like you’d been a third party to their strategic and undivided conversation, but it did nothing to soothe your hesitancy.

Levi and Hange had tracked you down and invited you to meet with them, urgently explaining that they needed your help with debriefing Eren after his insubordination and his blitz on Marley. He’d refused to disclose any further information about his conduct to anyone in the military, not even Mikasa and Armin, his closest confidants. So Hange suggested bringing in someone unbiased, someone not in the military to ruse more details out of Eren.

You were their prime choice after hearing how you and Eren had met when the Anti-Marleyan volunteers had arrived on Paradis. You’d been one of the several civilian volunteers that had helped with affairs and military proceedings at the port. There you’d met Eren and quickly forged a friendship, although Eren’s friends could have sworn there was more between you two than you would have liked to admit.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to their proposal. Perhaps it was your readiness to help the military in their righteous endeavors, or maybe it was for a different reason. Perhaps you were driven by your own selfishness. You wanted to see Eren again, even under the strange circumstances.

Eren’s cell was at the end of the corridor. Once Hange let out an abrupt “we’re here” your lips carried an eager smile, but your expression quickly faltered once you stepped forward and caught a glimpse of him in his cell. Even with the arrival of visitors, Eren kept his head forward while he sat on his bed, one arm balanced on his knee.

“Nice of you guys to pay me another visit. I’m starting to think you just miss me.” Eren’s voice was deep. So much deeper than you remembered. How long had it been? You couldn’t do the math.

“You know you’re our favorite problem child.” Levi responded humorlessly. He stepped aside for Hange to slip the key in the lock, and with one turn the door was swung open. “Don’t look so agitated. We brought you a gift.”

You made no efforts to step out from behind Hange and Levi, but Eren could see you clearly enough. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but maybe it was foolish of you to envision Eren slipping out of his troubled temper the moment you two saw each other again. Realistically, it never would have been that easy. Eren’s face remained hard, if anything it looked like seeing you made him even angrier.

Hange’s hand found its way onto your shoulder, supportive, but reminding you of the reason why you were there.

You shuffled forward, heels loud against the granite cobblestone. Darkness swallowed you as you crept in further, and you flinched at the sound of the heavy door being shut and secured behind you. Looking over your shoulder, your heart began racing at the sight of solid metal bars separating you from the outside.

“Let’s give them some space,” Levi suggested, stepping back from the cell.

Hange’s mouth opened to protest, but they were discouraged by Levi’s strong grip on their ear.

“We’ll be waiting outside if you need us, Y/N.” Levi announced through Hange’s squalls of pain. He gave you a comforting nod before his eyes drifted to Eren, and his expression toughened again. “Don’t try anything. Screams echo down here.” He paused and then turned on his heel to leave, tugging Hange’s ear before releasing it from his hold.

You watched nervously as the two of them disappeared behind the wall.

Hange’s voice was heard again further down the hall. “That hurt a lot, you know.”

It was the last remark you heard from the pair before you heard the door to the corridor close, and then worry flooded your system like it was on an intravenous drip. The Eren you were convinced you were meeting was replaced by someone you weren’t sure you knew, and suddenly you felt unsafe being alone with him, but you held an obligation to Levi, Hange, and the rest of the military that needed the information they expected you to gather.

You walked slowly, feigning a gentle smile to masquerade as though you were happy. It hurt to know that it was something you had to fake. You sat at the edge of Eren’s bed and took note as he made no efforts to shift away. That had to have been a positive sign.

“You look different,” you chuckled. “I like it.” The weak blaze from the burning torches casted a menacing shadow onto Eren’s stolid face. In the half light of the cell he appeared much older. You reached a hand out to brush away the loose wisps of hair that decorated his face, but your movement was stopped by Eren’s unyielding grip around your wrist.

You jumped, surprised at his roughness.

“Do you honestly think you can outsmart me?” His words were bitter.

You looked at Eren with wide, stunned eyes before blinking quickly and trying to laugh off your clear fright.

“What are you talking about?” You brought your unrestrained hand to his jawline, fingers tracing the shape of his face until your touch met the broad span of his chest, and then you felt gutsy enough to slip your fingers under the fabric of his shirt. “You’ve been down here too long. Not everyone’s your enemy, Eren.”

Your fingers wandered far enough until they met the defined curve of his collarbone and the robust muscle of his chest, but the moment was fleeting, interrupted by the jolt of Eren shoving you backwards. You fell off the bed and teetered, momentarily losing your balance.

“It’s pitiful that you’re letting them use you as a pawn.” Eren’s words were sharp, but venom in his words were bearable compared to the resentment behind his eyes.

He knew. He was smart, you should have known he would catch on. You created distance between yourself and Eren.

“What? They’re not using me as a pawn.” Your voice was unsteady. “I promise Eren, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you can help me understand if you just—”

“Then why are you here?” Eren rose from his bed to begin closing the distance you created, and your body began to quiver with dread.

You continued inching backwards until your tailbone collided with the edge of the cell’s sink, and you latched onto it with a sweaty grip.

“I’d rather be a pawn than be driven to do terrible things out of my own free will!” You had no choice but to admit what he already knew, and in seconds Eren’s hands were strung tightly around your wrists while he trapped your body against the sink.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, blinking back tears. You searched for something past his eyes, just a modicum of vulnerability to at least let you know there was a person behind the Eren you were speaking to, but the once fiery hues of green and blue in his irises were now frosted to an unremarkable grey. If it was true that eyes were the window to the soul, Eren was truly void.

“Please let go.” You pleaded and writhed in his grip. “Eren, seriously let go. You’re hurting me.”

“I don’t expect someone like you to understand.” Eren’s face showed nothing but malevolence.

“Someone like me?”

Eren pushed you back further into the sink until you bit back a shrill cry. “Someone that’s never had to make any sacrifices.”

Tear after tear did nothing to ease Eren’s painful hold, and as obvious as it was that he was hurting you, he remained unconcerned.

“Who are you?” You shook your head. “This isn’t the Eren I know.”

“Then your first mistake was thinking that you ever knew me.”

Eren’s words were somber, but he moved swiftly, and in seconds he tore you from the sink and had you pinned up against the wall, it’s jagged surface digging uncomfortably into your cheek. His mouth hovered by your ear, and when he spoke his breath fanned over the side of your face.

“Scream and I’ll break you.”

So you said nothing as Eren’s knee slid in between your legs, parting them far enough so that he could press his thigh to your cunt. His hands retired from holding your arms behind your back, and they traveled to your ass, riding up the fabric of your dress until it was on full display.

“This is nice.” His voice was condescending as tugged on your dress's short hem. “They did a good job at making you look—,” Eren delivered a sharp spank to the exposed skin then he ran his hand over the area searing with pain, “—like a whore.”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a wail as Eren’s palm collided with your backside. He slipped a wicked finger under the thin material of your underwear and dipped his touch down between your thighs to stroke your folds through the cloth.

“Why are you shaking?” Eren used his free hand and slid it around your neck, gently at first, but you knew he wasn’t averse to tightening his grasp. “I thought this was all part of your plan.”

It had been, but your tremors weren’t the result of fear alone. You were scared out of your wits knowing that Eren had no reservations about harming you, and the thought shouldn’t have been as enticing as it was, but the combination of not knowing how he would choose to have his way with you had you feeling hot.

Your words were muffled through sobs, and your dazed mind didn’t make things easier, so all you could do was nod, which solicited a dry scoff from Eren. He hooked his finger around the fabric of your underwear and tugged it aside forcefully before parting your folds.

You released a feeble moan, and you could feel your knees buckling. If it weren’t for his tight grip, you were certain you would have collapsed. “Eren…”

“You’re wet already,” he said scornfully. Two fingers rubbed your clit mercilessly before slipping down to tease your entrance. “Acting scared meanwhile the whole time you were fucking dripping at the thought of me touching you like this. I don’t have to tell you how pathetic that is.”

Your breathing grew more labored at the anticipation of Eren’s long fingers entering you, pumping in and out of your hole while he ridiculed you for how desperately you tightened around his fingers, but you inhaled sharply when his touch disappeared.

Instead you felt Eren wipe your arousal on the inside of your thigh, and you had no time to question his behavior. A pitiful cry of surprise left your mouth as he grabbed the back of your neck, forcibly pulling you off the wall before throwing you in the direction of his bed.

“Move,” he commanded.

You staggered, looking back at him in alarm, but observed his directive without sacrificing any more time. Once you reached his bed, Eren followed closely behind, waiting until your back met the mattress to cage you in under his intimidating frame, and it then became clear that he held no other resolve than to use you for his own satisfaction. He disregarded your discernable ache and began unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs in one haste motion.

Eren’s large cock was already half-thickened with beads of precum glistening at its crown. He brought his palm to his mouth and spat in it before grabbing himself in the large curve of his hand to pump his length in preparation. He ran his tip up and down your folds, taking pleasure in the way you squirmed every time it prodded your tender clit, and then without warning he drove his cock into you, kindling a fervid cry that rose from the pit of your stomach and tore through your throat.

The sound echoed off the walls of the concrete box before ebbing into silence. Eren’s eyebrows creased in irritation while he looked down at you, and you suddenly harked back to his threat. You threw a quivering hand over your mouth, and shook your head, spluttering out a fragmented apology.

“I—Eren—I—I’m sorry…”

Yet he took no heed, and he began thrusting in and out of you, rocking back just to slam his hips into yours, over and over again until an uncomfortable pain grew from deep inside you and diffused over the span of your pelvis. All you could do was swallow your wails while your palm did it’s best efforts to smother your pleas. Fat tears ran down your cheeks and soaked into the sheets; your agony was hard to hide.

“Stop crying,” Eren barked through grunts. He pressed his hand to the hollow of your neck, fingers digging into your fleeting pulse. “You said yourself you have no problem being used.”

Sweaty fingers clutched his forearm, and you struggled against his dominance, breaths growing more and more shallow in an effort to conserve the air you were quickly losing.

He grabbed your wrists and held them together, pinning them to the mattress above your head with one hand.

“Maybe I should put a baby in you, then you’ll understand why what I’m doing is our last resort.”

Eren arched an eyebrow, but when you said nothing and only looked at him with glossy eyes a disdainful laugh slipped past his lips. He continued fucking himself deep into you, watching the way your body lurched with his movement, and then you felt his cock pulsate inside you.

It served as wordless notice that Eren was close, especially since he made no efforts to warn you. His eyes shut tightly, jaw hung slack while his groans intensified, and then he was cumming inside you, his hot seed flooding your walls as he claimed you.

You wound your eyes shut too, dark mascara-tainted tears staining your cheeks while you felt Eren thrusting through his high, making sure he had jettisoned every drop of his cum into you before he pulled himself out and wiped the creamy, white liquid that glazed his cock on the inside of your thigh.

“And when you report back, why don’t you tell them—” As if it were nothing he eased his weight off of you, taking a seat on the bed beside your shuddering body while he tucked himself back into his pants. “‘I let him fuck me pregnant because I’m a whore.’”

[atinybitofau]

[ateez] S E O N G H W A ⤮ baby daddy au

HIS SON IS A PRODIGY AND HE NEEDS A (mommy) NANNY. MAFIA SEONGHWA.

a/n: in honor of the beautiful vlive from last night 😭😭. how ya’ll doing Seonghwa stans?

• Seonghwa’s proud of his son.

• even if he works dirty jobs—

• isn’t exactly proud of himself.

• he’s got pride, believe me.

• but it’s not ordinary pride.

• Seonghwa’s far from the ordinary.

• “The nanny quit.” Hongjoong teeter’s Seonghwa’s baby-double on his hip. “Hwa, you need to find someone who can handle Yeolhwa. Your son is as bad as you. If not, worse.”

• he chuckles lowly putting down his stack of papers before reaching over for his son.

• his son always curling at the scent and warmth of his father.

• he playfully glares picking at his cheeks before telling him, “Yeolhwa, you can’t just pull nanny’s hair when you can’t get something you want. That’s not good.”

• Yeolhwa’s too young to understand.

• because his son is spoiled by everyone he encounters.

• and Seonghwa expects nothing but when he works his ass off to get the things he wants.

• he doesn’t want his son to struggle the way he did when he was young.

• “What’s the mother doing?” Hongjoong is merciless when he asks. “That dumb skank only knows one thing and it’s popping kids and popping pills.”

• he admits he’s had too much leisure when having his fun in the past—

• but he never regrets having his son in a mistake he can barely even remember.

• “I’ve made it clear he needs no mother.”

• “Seonghwa, no matter what you do, that boy needs a mother.” the younger rolls his eyes. “A nanny can only make up so much for what you deprive. And your job doesn’t make things easier. You can’t take care of him like this forever. Not by yourself.”

• Seonghwa teeters his own son to sleep in his arms.

• staring and cradling his face like he’s the greatest gift not even money can buy—

• not even his power.

• he didn’t have to kill someone to get Yeolhwa.

• his son is everything to him.

• but he has to make sacrifices to give his son everything.

• nothing is ever just given.

• “I’m sorry it’s such short notice, Ms. y/n. But I hope the accommodations we have are enough to settle with.” Hongjoong opens the door for you. “Yeolhwa can be a little arduous when it comes to caretaking. Do be careful.”

• you are anxious you must admit.

• the home smells eerily like iron and musk.

• you can tell the job you took wasn’t just leisure or easy money.

• “Oh.” you shyly smile. “I’m sure he’s just a little hard to understand. Children can be unpredictable and we can’t blame them for that.”

• Hongjoong hears that too many times.

• knows that’s what they all say.

• chokes on his breath before he says something that might scare you away.

• “Well I must get back.” he hands you a cellphone and a book of references before pulling his suit. “Please don’t hesitate to call me. Everything you need is in that book. I’ll be back to relieve you at 9 pm tonight.”

• “Thank you, Mr. Hongjoong. I hope I don’t let you down.”

• he scoffs at that. “Good luck, Ms. y/n. You’re gonna need it.”

• you don’t know what that means.

• but you’re more concerned on taking care of a child who is claimed to be intolerable.

• and you stern by the idea of inexperienced children.

• because they’re not like us.

• they learn from what they’re surrounded with.

• “M-mr. Hongjoong. I’m sorry for bothering you but I was wondering if I can take Yeolhwa to the park today. I see there’s no schedule for outside play time and I—“

• “Unfortunately his father doesn’t approve of outside exposure.” Hongjoong’s fast to quib. “He’s going to have to settle playing inside.”

• “But Mr—“

• “I apologize y/n but that just can’t happen.”

• you observe Yeolhwa.

• he’s a quiet and kept child.

• but he doesn’t like the word no.

• no, he likes getting what he wants.

• and he plays with his toys like they’re not toys at all.

• holds his toy gun like it’s almost real.

• “Yeolhwa, what’s that baby?”

• he looks up to you with golden eyes. “Nanny y/n.”

• you smile at the small boy who offers you a book. “You want me to read to you?”

• he cracks a smile and curls in your lap.

• he’s a sweet kid and is quite capable.

• but you see why he’s not easy to deal with.

• not when he throws tantrums like he’s a grown ass adult—

• “Yeolhwa baby, put the book down.” you ease him in the best way possible. “Sweetie, you can’t play anymore. You have to take a nap.”

• he sobs again.

• hurling a heavy hard cover book in your direction.

• sighing, you only collect the things he throws never giving it attention.

• it only peeves him more.

• “You can cry all you want. But crying won’t get you your toys, baby. You have to sleep.”

• eventually fulfilling your hopes,

• he gets tired.

• curling in your lap when he seeks comfort and warmth for slumber.

• once he’s asleep, you pack your things ready to leave for the night.

• “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

• Hongjoong’s surprised the safe house wasn’t a complete wreck.

• he’s surprised nothings broken.

• but notices the bruising marks that formed on your legs.

• “I’m assuming you won’t be back?” he asks while teetering the small sleeping boy on his hip.

• “I’ll be back.” you affirm. “And I don’t intend to leave any time soon.”

• he’s convinced you’re different.

• that you have a certain will and composure that resembles someone he knows.

• tells Seonghwa immediately.

• “She’s worth watching. You should definitely see.”

• it happens again for the next couple days.

• but Yeolhwa’s toys hurt more than the books.

• and now you’re bleeding hard in the bathroom while he sleeps in his bed.

• “Children are unpredictable, y/n.” you mumble to yourself. “They grow learning from you.”

• Seonghwa watches through his monitor how you treat his child.

• sometimes peeved that you don’t give his son what he wants—

• but mesmerized when his son crawls into your lap every time despite it.

• “Hongjoong, I’ll be picking up Yeolhwa tonight. And prepare Yunho for babysitting duty.”

• Yeolhwa cries when he’s pulled out of your arms by a dark suited man,

• wants to stay in yours.

• crying for your name while you smile softly at him, hand to his cheek.

• “I’ll be back tomorrow, baby.” you coo. “Be a good boy okay? And I promise if you don’t cause trouble, I’ll come back every time.”

• he understands well for a child.

• curling obediently into the dark suited man who resembled him after you spoke.

• “I’m assuming you’re the infamous father?”

• Seonghwa studies you. “You take care of a child well. Thank you.”

• you shake it off pulling at your scarf. “I take care of a child as if it’s my own. Thank you for letting me.”

• your voice is soft,

• motherly and gentle.

• Seonghwa hasn’t felt this kind of delicate emotion in years.

• “I have dinner waiting. Care to join me?”

• you smile while holding at Yeolhwa’s reaching hand. “I have my own family I must attend to, Mr. Park.”

• “It’ll only be a couple minutes.”

• you notice the tattoos on his neck.

• the similar stamp of injustice that lingered on each of the men you’ve met prior.

• realizing days ago that Seonghwa’s son was a prodigy.

• one so that isn’t exactly safe or ordinary.

• “Your family relies on you.” Seonghwa keeps his eyes on you in midst of eating. “You’re a very lovely woman, y/n. Strong willed and captivating.”

• you blink softly unsure of how to respond. “I do what I must..”

• “Don’t we all.”

• your eyes meet his and you swallow your emotions harshly biting back at your lip.

• you don’t deny he’s a charming man.

• like his son, quiet and kept.

• “But you’re a beautiful woman too.” he admits. “Caring and gentle. My son’s fond of you for those reasons. He has good taste.”

• “Like his father I presume?” you tease making him laugh. “I have one request I want to light up though, Mr. Park. I want to bring your son out. Expose him to more than just the guns and walls.”

• he notes your observance.

• strong willed indeed.

• “I trust you.”

• you should be the one trusting him.

• but it’s inevitable what happens with his son as soon as he’s vulnerable, exposed.

• he’s a prodigy wanted by the best and worst of the world.

• and now your shielding a child with your own life.

• as if he was yours.

• “Hey baby, don’t cry. You’re gonna be okay. Yeolhwa, you’re gonna be okay sweetie.”

• he’s only crying because you’re crying.

• cause you don’t know what to do in this situation.

• but when Seonghwa appears from nowhere, spins you and his son around into his chest,

• you suddenly feel safe.

• him guarding you,

• you shielding his son.

• “Y/n, look at me.” he’s careful to touch you. “I’m gonna need you to come with me, okay?”

• you can only blink when his son is yanked out of your hands,

• the poor boy wanting only you.

• but with Seonghwa’s men, he’s safer.

• Seonghwa staying behind to protect you.

• “Y-Yeolhwa!”

• “He’s gonna be okay.” Seonghwa caresses your face shooting blank bullets over the car you two hide against. “I need to get you out of here okay? You need to be strong for me.”

• crying’s not gonna get you anywhere and if anyone were to know that, it would be you.

• so you follow.

• now safe from harm, Yeolhwa sleeping soundly on your lap,

• while his men try to console you with a cup of hot herbal tea and sweet talk.

• “This must be a lot for you. We’re sorry y/n.”

• you smile softly bouncing Seonghwa’s son up and down on your lap. “I don’t mind. I read the book Hongjoong gave and it was all in the fine print. A disclaimer that promised to keep me safe.”

• it’s no lie even Seonghwa’s men find you attractive.

• and it might be because you’re so humble.

• so delicate.

• Seonghwa has a proposition for you when Yeolhwa’s asleep.

• today being the day you should be quitting.

• but you promised Hongjoong your full effort and nothing but.

• “Y/n, stay with me.”

• Seonghwa leans his forehead against yours, hand cradling the line of your jaw.

• you feel warm against his touch.

• like a baby to a mother.

• in this case, a woman to a man.

• “Stay with me and Yeol.” he runs a finger over your parted lips. “He needs you. He needs a mother.”

• he admits his son has grown to love you.

• and maybe he’s grown to love you too.

• “I can’t take care of him the way you do.” he watches as your eyes lull to his voice. “He won’t be able to live without you.”

• “I’ll stay for as long as he needs me too.”

• it’s the first time Seonghwa’s ever stayed home.

• ever slept in his own bed with his own son curling into his chest.

• but it’s not the first time he’s slept in a bed with a woman.

• but it’s the first in his own bed with a woman he loves.

• “Mommy, hurry..”

• your eyebrows furrow and you whip around to face Seonghwa and his son,

• “M-mommy?”

• Seonghwa chuckles brushing through his sleepy son’s hair. “You heard him, mommy. Come to bed.”

• you take care of his son like he’s your own.

• but now Yeolhwa doesn’t need a nanny anymore.

• most of the time, looking for his father.

• “He doesn’t need me anymore, Seonghwa.” you playfully nudge at him when his chocolate haired son plays with new toys. “I don’t think I need to stay.”

• “Absurd.” the mafia boss spins you on your feet so your lips meet his. “If he doesn’t need a nanny, he needs a mother. But if he didnt need you at all then stay because I do.”

• you giggle against your boyfriend’s lips.

• “Hongjoong keeps having me sign a contract.” you pull at his collar, studying his eyes some more. “But the one this morning seemed to have unordinary discrepancies.”

• “That’s because that was a marriage contract.”

• “Ah.” you tease, him biting at your lip. “That must be why I saw your name instead of Yeol’s.”

• “APPA!”

• you two are suddenly pulled apart, the small boy holding out his arms protecting your legs.

• “You’re hurting mommy with your teeth! Bad appa.”

• you choke a laugh when Seonghwa furrows at the cockblock son of his.

• “Yeolhwa, you can’t just hurt me to get the things you want.” Seonghwa teases hoisting up his smiley son on his hip. “Who taught you that?”

• “You appa. You said we have to protect mommy from bad people. And that mommy should never get hurt.”

• “Oh yeah. I did, didn’t I?”

@atinybitofau

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Want to kiss?

Pairing = Poe x reader

Words = 5.2k

Summary = You and Poe are friends. Acting married won’t lead to anything. Will it?

Warnings = SMUT (18+only); semi-public fingering, semi-public grinding, implication of a bj, also language 

A/N =  Prompt no.23 requested by @witchyavenger as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” w/ Poe  and bolded in text

Also i might have concentrated more on the smut, than the plot, so if there are a couple of plot holes, that’s why, im not sorry 

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

You weren’t looking forward to this. 

A small, masochistic part of you was, but the larger part of you, the more sensible part, wanted to scream at the prospect. 

Pretending to be a couple with Poe, to have the real thing so close in front of you, yet knowing that you couldn’t, made you want to cry. In fact, you already had. 

The two of you had been briefed together, and told you would be acting as married senators at a gala. The way Poe’s face had tightened at the word ‘married’, made your chest hurt. He hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t need to before you’d drawn your own conclusions. 

You’d tried not to think about it too much as the briefing had continued, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, and having to blink a little faster. You’d managed to keep it together until you’d gone back to your room, where you’d immediately burst into tears. 

Poe couldn’t even stand the idea of being married to you?

You knew he wasn’t interested in you like that, but that hurt. Hurt more than you’d anticipated. Poe only had to pretend for a mission. And he didn’t want to do that? Now you’re sitting in front of the mirror, and you blow out a big breath. Not right now. Your make-up’s half on, and you don’t have the time to redo it if you start crying, now of all times. 

And the truth was, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew Poe. He was your friend and Commander, nothing more. He’d never given you any indication that he’d ever wanted more, never acted as anything but a good friend to you.  

Now you were in the bathroom of a hotel on Coruscant, and Poe was next door and stars you had to share a bed tonight but you didn’t even want to think about that yet . All you had to do was finish your make-up, do your hair, put your fancy dress on, hope that Poe could bear to pretend to be married to you while the two of you looked for an opportunity to sneak upstairs, break into Senator Sewinn’s office, and gather any incriminating evidence stored there. Simple.

And that wasn’t counting getting out, and sharing a bed with Poe tonight, before your ship departed for the Resistance base tomorrow. 

To put it simply, you were fucked. 

But you’d pushed the emotions away, not wanting to address it. Not wanting to have that horrendous conversation. After all, it wasn’t a crime for someone not to fancy you. 

Now you took a moment for yourself, looking up at the corner where the wall met the ceiling, and exhaling deeply. 

Ok, think. What’s your first job? Make up. 

You took your routine step-by step, finishing your makeup and hair, and pulling your dress on. You took the time to admire yourself in the mirror before you stepped out to face Poe, knowing that he was no doubt going to look absolutely dashing, while not caring either way about your appearance. 

You knew that, except you did look good, even if you said so yourself. You let yourself breathe once more, hands fluttering out any invisible creases in the front of your dress. It had a nice cut for your chest, falling to the floor with a split down your right leg. 

Ok. “Poe?” You knocked on the door before you returned to your room, not wanting to catch him in the middle of changing.

“I’m ready!” Comes the response, and you can’t help yourself, exhaling heavily again before greeting Poe. 

You’d been prepared. Or so you thought.

You’d never seen Poe in a suit before, and it’s more than you could have ever imagined. He fills it out nicely, shoulders looking broader than ever. He’s brushed his hair neatly back, curls subdued for the night. They look darker than ever, strands curling over the back of his collar. Desire and heat are pooling low in your belly, your eyes slow in their movements as they graze over him

He’s freshly shaved after his shower, bronze skin glowing in the yellow light of the lamps scattered around the room. Your mouth is dry, and your breath shaky again. Poe’s looking at you funny, and you must be staring, so you clear your throat, shaking your head a little. 

His tie is slightly to one side, so you step towards him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Can I-?” Your voice is a murmur as your hands reach out, one going to the centre of Poe’s neck. You straighten his tie, ignoring the warmth of his body below your hands and step back. 

You hadn’t realised how intimate that would feel, how close you’d have to get, and now you feel overwhelmed, your body heating up, your heart beating faster. Poe’s looking at you with a strange look in his eyes, like he can’t quite figure out what your motives are, he can’t decide what you want. 

Only, it’s not unusual, is it? Poe’s always been a touchy-feely person, hugging, holding hands, touching whenever he could, it didn’t tend to matter who it was, or what the situation was. 

Except this feels different somehow, heavier. Like you crossed a line in your friendship that you weren’t aware existed. That the intimacy of fixing Poe’s tie, being this close to his body is teetering beyond friendship. Poe’s still looking at you with this heavy gaze, and maybe there’s something in his eyes, but you can’t bear to meet them, can’t bear to face the rejection you’ll find there.

So you swallow, fixing your gaze on the section of wall just to the left of his face, ignoring how your palms are singing from touching Poe, even through his shirt. They itch to do it again, hungry for more, and it takes all of your self control to stop yourself and to take a step back, widening the space between you. 

“Shall we go?” You’re the first to speak, and at your words, Poe seems to snap out of it, closing down, any softness in his eyes, in his face, disappearing. 

He nods, stiffer than he normally is around you, and you can only hope that he’ll loosen up when you get downstairs. “Here's your ring.” He reaches into his breast pocket and hands you a wedding band, gold and simple.

And you’ve been so distracted by the top half of him that you hadn’t seen his on his ring finger, hanging loosely at his side. You don’t say anything as you slip the cold jewellery on, your heart stuttering at the implication of something so plain. 

Stepping out of your room, you take Poe’s offered elbow, and the two of you start your descent to the lobby. It takes you a while to get used to the breeze on your right leg, where your skin is exposed. The building is an old one, corridors extending in every direction with bedrooms and storerooms scattered in a seemingly random order. The lift is quiet, muzak playing faintly out of a tiny speaker. 

“We’ve got this,” you murmur under your breath reassuring yourself. Poe looks at you, but doesn’t say anything, just patting your hand where it rests on his arm. 

The transformation in him when you step into the hall is amazing. His smile, which you recognise enough to tell it’s fake, spreads across his face, and as you enter, he turns his head to your ear, murmuring, “I didn’t tell you how beautiful you looked before.” 

There’s suddenly no air as you turn to look back at Poe, that familiar grin tugging on his lips. Your faces are close again, like a married couples, and you don’t try to hide the pleased look that’s clear across your face, feeling more flustered than you expected. 

His eyes are encouraging, and you’ve never noticed how warm they are, what a soft brown. They’re lighter than you thought, having never been so close to his face before, dark irises increasing in size as he looks at you, waiting for your response. 

You’re married, remember?

So you press your cheek to his smooth one, with a soft “thanks.” 

You turn back to the crowd, missing how Poe’s gaze catches on you for a second longer than normal, instead concentrating on how no one noticed you walk in. Good. The room is busy already, you and Poe one of the last stragglers arriving. Soft music, not dissimilar to the one in lift is playing, largely drowned out by voices chattering away.

The ballroom is light and airy, yellow lamps creating a warm atmosphere, with a marble floor that causes your steps to click. There’s a bar near the entrance, and a stage to your left. 

The beginning of the night is spent hanging off Poe’s arm, making conversation with Senators about brain-dead topics, Poe’s hand moving to squeeze yours in warning whenever you make a slightly too sarcastic comment, usually about the First Order really having an impact, and how it was about time someone made a monopoly of the galaxy anyway. 

You push down the urge to be more sarcastic, if only to feel Poe’s skin on yours again. 

No one seems to notice, especially not when you start to zone out, looking for opportunities to sneak away. The office had to be around this room somewhere; hours of poring over maps of the building had revealed a lot of empty space around the ballroom. And now Senator Sewinn was walking out of a concealed door in the back right of the room, which had to led to his office. 

Unfortunately, he and a number of other important, puffed up looking peacocks of politicians seem intent to stand right in front of it, drawing, if anything, more attention to the door. 

You huff, unknowingly scowling. What was the point of a secret door when you act like that? You may as well make a sign saying ‘Secret, Do Not Enter.’

“You alright, sweetheart?” Poe’s the one to drag you back to where you are, and you do one of those smug, self-centred couple smiles, one that you’d seen far too often, smoothing out your face. 

“Yes, sorry honey.” You step back from the group, suddenly needing a moment. “If you’ll excuse me.” You direct this to the rest of the group, mumbling something about getting a drink, stumbling away, sure they won’t miss you. Poe’s behind you, his presence both stifling and a comfort. 

When you reach the bar, his hand is on the small of your back, and he’s still so warm. How can his hand spread heat through your body like this? Through your dress? “Hey,” his mouth is by your ear again while you wait for the bartender. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake your head, unsure yourself. “I don’t know Poe. Nothing.” Maybe it’s him. You can’t look directly at him, fearing you’ll combust. 

It’s definitely him. 

But instead, you turn your mouth back to his ear, close enough your mouth just grazes his earlobe as you talk. “Senator Sewinn isn’t leaving the door behind him.”

Poe looks behind you in a casual sweep of the room as you order two drinks. 

When he turns back, his chest is pressing against you now, his arm around your waist, caging you into the bar, and you hope you don’t look as hot as you feel. You practically vibrate under his touch, the urge to push back into him stronger than ever. Poe’s blazer isn’t buttoned up, and it’s almost around you, you can feel the silk of his tie on your back.

Your breath sticks in your throat as he bends to whisper, again. This man is going to kill you. “Good spot sweetheart.” 

Don’t press your hips back into him, you remind yourself, he’s there, but don’t do it. 

You can smell the cologne Poe’s wearing too, the one he only uses on really special occasions and it’s making your head spin. Maybe you need some air. 

You accept the drinks from the bartender, passing over some credits and turning in Poe’s arms, the cold glasses in your palms helping you a little, distracting you from the heat which seems to have settled in your core, pulsing in between your legs. 

Except now you’re facing Poe, facing those warm brown eyes, and are they darker than they were before? Is this better or worse? Face to face, or chest against your back? 

He’s licking his lips as he’s taking the drink from you and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Breathe, in and out. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll move,” it takes a second for you to tune back in, to realise what Poe is talking about. “Sewinn has to make a speech at the other end of the hall, we’re to move then, when everyone’s distracted, remember?” 

His voice is soft, quiet, and you do remember, that the movements he’s describing are all part of the plan, have been ever since the brief, but this man who’s crowding you into the bar, the sharp edge cutting a vertical line into your back, is distracting you from the mission. 

This mission, which is important for the Resistance. 

The mission, which you can’t fail at. 

And, more than that, you can’t let Poe down. 

He’s not interested, you have to remind yourself when a pang of disappointment shoots through you as he steps back. This is fake, you’re fake married. 

Somehow the reminder doesn’t help. 

You sip your drink, cold liquid shooting down your throat as you look anywhere but at him. 

The introductory section drags. You don’t return to the group you were talking to before, instead choosing to stay near the bar, exchanging the odd observation with Poe, the two of you consistently getting closer than you really need to talk. 

He’s acting more normal now, his smile more natural as he relaxes. His hand has found a home on you, it doesn’t seem to matter where, moving from your shoulder to your back to your waist. You don’t dare mention it, afraid he’ll stop, when that’s the last thing you want. 

Sometimes you feel like a black hole, desperately looking for love and touch, and sucking up whatever you can find, always needing more. You hate to think that maybe that’s what you cherish most about your friendship with Poe - that even as his friend, he touches you, and hugs you, and gives you a kiss. Although it does spark the idea of Poe being cuddly in bed, that if you ever went out with him, he would always try and have his hands on you. You allow yourself these soft dreams for a moment, before tuning back in before Poe can notice. 

You’ve nearly finished your drink when the quiet background music starts to fade, and to your delight Sewinn begins to move. The crowd easily parts for him, and you wonder briefly what it is about him that makes people so responsive. What would it be like to have that kind of power? 

You grasp Poe’s hand, feeling his calluses on your palm when he makes his move, pulling him to stay with you a second longer. “Wait for him to settle,” you say, knowing there’s no rush, yet. 

And so you do, the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, pretending to listen to the senator’s drivel. And then he turns, looking for the trophy he’s using to make his announcement more convincing, and you pull Poe along the back wall, still holding his hand as you lean against the hidden door and allowing a grin as it clicks open. 

And you’re in. 

You blink in surprise when you realise it’s really been that easy. You’d expected at least a locked door to get in the way. But no, you’re standing in the Senator's office, looking at a large desk, footsteps suddenly muffled by the plush carpet and still holding Poe’s hand. 

You drop it like you've been burned, not daring to look at Poe as you go to the other side of the desk. There’s bookshelves around all the walls, creating a slightly dark and gloomy look, especially in contrast with the light ballroom next door. 

You start going through the drawers as Poe plugs in the holostick that he’d been given, downloading files for later reading. Most drawers contain useless information, files on drinks needed for the party, a bill for the band later, business cards and other junk. There’s one locked drawer you can’t open, even when you try and pick it. 

You give it a kick in frustration when it still doesn’t open, earning a snicker from Poe. “Did that help, sweetheart?”  

You scowl at him, not bothering to answer, and determined to not mention the fact that your foot really hurts now. “How long left?” you ask, deflecting instead.

“Two minutes,” is the answer and you nod, going to one of the bookshelves, hand idly tracing down a number of spines. None are in a language you recognise, and when you turn back to tell Poe so, you find him leaning against the desk and watching you. His legs seem longer at this angle, thighs … bigger. And you’ve seen this man with a harness wrapped around his legs like a second skin. 

You wonder what it would be like to … You shake your head before you can finish that thought, mouth dry even as you remind yourself that Poe’s your friend. Your friend. “I can’t read any of these,” you tell him instead, watching his head snap up to meet your eyes as you talk. 

And then a lot of things happen very quickly. 

Before Poe can respond, the holostick beeps, he unplugs it, just as the door to the ballroom clicks open. Before you can react, he’s closing the steps between you, holostick clasped in a fist, crowding you into the bookshelf behind you. When he speaks, it’s a low, quiet, “I’m sorry,” his forearm coming to rest next to your head, and you can smell him again, eyes falling closed like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The scent is familiar and grounding, and even as your heart rate picks up, you feel calmer, Poe’s other hand holding your cheek. His head turns, your noses bumping and his lips are so close to you … he’s going to kiss you.

And then he stops, except he’s moving like he is kissing you, and you realise his hand is connecting your two faces and there’s someone else in the room, so you don’t think, you just react. You widen your legs so Poe can step between them, and you let out a breath, nearly but not quite grinding on his leg, moaning low in your throat as one of your hands flies to the nape of Poe’s neck.

“Excuse me!” The guard’s voice is sharp, and cross, which is fair enough, you later reason, when you think that you wouldn’t want to find two people snogging in your boss’s office. Awkward one to report, that. 

Poe is slow to separate from you, his eyes dark when he opens them, and you're breathing embarrassingly fast considering he didn’t actually kiss you. He turns, standing just in front of you, a protective stance, whether he realises it or not. 

“Sorry, sir,” his voice is more hoarse than normal, and you never realised what a good actor Poe is. You sheepishly smile at the guard who just huffs and ushers you outside, grumbling about how disrespectful the two of you are and warning you not to do it again. 

The two of you stand in the hall, Sewinn just wrapping up his speech. Your head is spinning and you can’t think. 

Poe seems entirely unaffected by the whole thing, winking at you as he grins, joining in with the clapping at the end of the speech. You copy him, but you feel like you’re moving at half the speed of everyone else, your whole body screaming to be surrounded by Poe again. 

“Are you alright?” Poe asks you, and is it that obvious that you aren’t? You can only nod, not trusting your voice to be steady. “I’m sorry … about, in there, I just-”

“Stars, Poe.” You interrupt, not wanting to hear it. “It’s fine, it was good, quick thinking on your part.” You force a smile, and if Poe notices, he drops it. “We did it, though,” You add after a second, the silence between you somehow worse. 

Poe grins, and you know you’ll be ok, the breathless, hot feeling gradually fading, your senses tuning back into the room around you, hearing the band setting up, everyone moving around you. “We did.” Is all he says, extending his hand in mock performance when the band start playing. “May I have this dance?”

You allow yourself to relax, graciously accepting it. “Why, kind sir, of course!” The two of you are giggling as you start to dance, neither of you aware of what the steps are, just concentrating on having a good time. The music isn’t particularly great; the stuffy sort that politicians think make them look classy, when really it just makes them look like pretentious assholes. 

You both get bored of this pretty soon, Poe losing his jacket as the two of you get warmer and warmer, dancing ridiculously in a corner. 

When your feet begin to hurt you pull on Poe’s hand, taking him away from the dancefloor. The hall is hot, and you want fresh air. You feel flushed, the cold air nice on your warm cheeks. 

You’re walking along the corridor back to your room, talking about the best song you’d play to start a party. Poe’s jacket under hanging off his arms, hands stuffed in his pockets. You try not to look directly at him too much as the two of you discuss better songs. “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy is one that would definitely get everyone going.” Poe says it likes it’s the simplest thing in the world, his answer the definitive one, while you snort. 

“You only think that because you want an excuse to ask everyone that all the time. No - Gimme, Gimme, Gimme is the best. Hands down.” Maybe you’re just as bad as he is. “Rasputin is another good one,” you add, “there’s dance moves and everything.” 

“No!” Poe’s voice is low, exaggerating his horror by dragging out his vowels, being over-dramatic now, “the best one for dance moves is Rock the Boat.” 

You ruffle his hair in that way he hates. “You like that because you can sit down!” Your laughter is interrupted when Poe’s head snaps up, looking towards the end of the corridor.

You pause, looking for the cause of the change in Poe’s attention. Hearing the voices approaching you, he grabs your hand, pulling you into an alcove, pulling the curtain across. There’s hardly room for the two of you to breathe, bodies pressed together, wall cold on your back as you listen to the footsteps coming closer. 

“... and Sewinn is going to want his whores there.” A nasal voice, coming closer. 

You stop breathing, glancing at Poe, who shakes his head. “The usual ones?” The question is spat by a deeper voice, while the other person presumably nods. “Fuck! They think they have more influence, always looking down on us, when Sewinn listens to us.” 

Poe’s hand fumbles around yours, fingers intertwining and squeezing gently in comfort, sending electricity up your arm. The same deep voice continues down the corridor, passing you. “And he just can’t get enough of them, especially that boy with the awful fashion sense, I mean really...” 

The voice fades gradually, passing you in a blur in the corner of your eye. You determinedly concentrate on looking at the fluttering curtain, a shade of blood red, suddenly too shy to look at Poe. 

This mission has been a lot. Working with Poe, who you have a desperate crush on, pretending to be married, and now standing far too close for comfort while you listen to people talk complain about influence in the Senate. You can’t hold it in any longer, the two of you dissolving into giggles, bodies collapsing forwards, Poe’s jacket landing on the floor with a soft whump.

And maybe it’s the release of this tension but when you finally compose yourselves, leaning back as much as you can in the small space even though you could leave, or maybe it’s the fact that his thumb is now massaging your palm, but the words tumble out before you can think. 

“Poe I like you.” He hasn’t let go of your hand yet, which is a good sign, right? But he also hasn’t said anything, so you keep talking. “Like you, like you, I mean.” Why can’t you shut up? There’s something unreadable in Poe’s eyes. “Like I would quite like to go on a date with you sometime and maybe -” 

Eventually Poe stops you with his free hand, covering your mouth for a beat, enough to get you to shut up. Is he closer? You didn’t think it was possible. His face is unreadable, even as he looks into your eyes, considering something “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” 

Your mind goes blank, your mouth dropping open as Poe removes his hand, going to his tie, loosening the knot. “What?” you just manage to stammer out. 

Poe just tips his head, like he’s considering the best angle to kiss you. “I like you like you too, sweetheart.” He’s teasing, but it’s fond, you realise with a rush of affection. All night he’s been looking at you like this, with fondness. “Can I kiss you?” He’s almost begging. 

Words escape you. You nod, unable to breathe, unable to talk anymore. Poe leans towards you, tilting his head, eyes closed, long lashes fluttering on his cheeks. At the last second, you remember to close your eyes, kissing him back. 

His hand moves to your hip, pulling you towards him, where you can feel him, already half-hard under his trousers, pressing against you. Poe slides his hand under the split in your skirt, warm hand on your skin, pulling your leg up as his hand travels down your thigh, settling into the crook of your knee, opening your legs and pulling your core closer to him.  

You catch on, wrapping your leg happily around his waist, not caring how exposed you must be, gasping when you grind against him again, and Poe’s even harder now, the seam of his trousers catching on something pleasurable between your legs. You’re already more aroused than you really have any right to be, considering he’s hardly done anything to you yet, but you’ve been thrumming at a low level all evening. 

You’re still kissing, even as he grinds against you, pushing you more into the wall behind you, and you feel overwhelmed, already, in the best way possible. All you can hear are your combined breaths, breathy sighs that fill the small space. You feel hot, nearly overheating, the cool wall balmy on your flushed skin behind you. 

You forget where you are, what you’re supposed to be doing, Poe taking over all your senses. His tongue is in your mouth, teeth biting at your lip and all you can do is let him. Your free hand moves to his hair, tugging gently and feeling a pull of satisfaction in your core at his low groan. His hair is soft, and thick and you don’t want to let go, the sudden image of pulling on his hair when his head’s between your thighs jumping to your mind’s eye.

You finally let go of his hand so you can hold onto his shoulders, the crisp white shirt becoming crumpled in your grasp and helping you balance on one leg. Poe’s now-free hand pulls your skirt fully up around your waist, no doubt causing some creases and teases you, playing with the hem of your underwear, fingers tracing circles into your hip.

You groan into his mouth, you can feel yourself getting wetter, and your hips unconsciously buck into his hands, wanting more. When Poe pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, you’re both breathless. His eyes have blown wide, and you’re sure yours look the same. You’re panting a little, even as Poe keeps his movements regular, grinding his dick into you, moving his hips up and adjusting his position with every moan you let out. 

“So good to me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing down your neck now. “You feel so good, you … urgh … you don’t even know how much you turn me on…” He sounds breathless, even as he continues to talk. 

And then he surges up, hitting your clit and you can’t help it, crying out. Pleasure’s building in your body, all centred around Poe, and you want more of it, more of him. You can’t see Poe’s face, but you feel the smirk he presses to your skin as he does it again. And then his hand that’s playing with your underwear moves, pulling it away from your skin, dipping his hand down and stroking one long finger through your wet folds. 

The moan you let out is broken. “Poe…” That’s all it takes for him to push his finger inside you, motioning gently towards himself. You can hear how wet you are as a second finger joins the first, a steady squelch in time with his movements. His fingers are thicker than yours are, and you feel dizzy at the thought of being stretched on his dick. His palm is grazing against your clit with every movement, steady and repetitive. 

Poe’s fingers feel so good, moving inside you, gently building you higher and higher while he watches your face, kissing your jaw, your ear. Your moans come out in breathy whines, repetitions of his name, and soft oh’s of pleasure. You can only hold onto him, trusting he’ll catch you if your leg gives out, only half-aware that anyone could walk past and hear or see Poe utterly destroy you. 

You start to moan more and before you even realise what’s happening, Poe’s greedily kissing you as you fall apart from his fingers. He keeps kissing you as he works you through it, your pussy clenching around his fingers, his tongue in your mouth while your hips buck forwards still. 

You’d feel embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. “Yes, by the way,” His voice is low as he moves to kiss the soft spot under your ear now. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

You can only frown as Poe removes his fingers from inside you, glistening wet and placing them on your lips, pushing gently until you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers, your own tart taste filling your mouth. “What?” You mumble, Poe’s digits muffling your voice. 

“I’d quite like to go on date with you sometime too.” 

You nod slowly, your post-orgasm haze lifting slower than normal. “Can we go to bed first?” Poe’s fingers are still half in your mouth, and you suck on the tips a little for emphasis, widening your eyes. And then you get an idea. “Or, actually,” you purr, removing your leg from Poe’s waist, and gently pushing his shoulders so he hits the wall behind him as you drop to your knees in front of him. “Maybe we should stay here for a minute.” 

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

this is the suit I was imagining, but the hair was all wrong for Poe. also I know that there are technically no suits in Star Wars canon, but I wanted to write it this way so

[codegemini]

Rinse, Repeat - Part I

 (( Co-written with @sylaess / @sylaesschasewind . Tagging @argonas / @thefugitivemango​  for character mention))

 ~*~*~

The trees swayed gently in the breeze. She smelled moonflowers faintly, and looked around. This again. This grove. So familiar, it was going to drive her mad! She had to know.  But she didn’t. The void in her memory was a gaping wound she couldn’t get past. 

 Sylaess sighed softly, placing her face in her hands gently. There was no scar pitting the left side of her jaw, no exposed tissue. It was oddly gratifying. But it sealed the knowledge that she was not awake. Most likely. Torghast was a very difficult place to traverse when not plagued with traumas. Her grip on reality was fragile at best.

 “Va’shal dan duentha.”  “...I don’t understand you. Why don’t I understand you?” She fixed the other elf with a stare, trying to puzzle him out but only ending up with a headache. She knew that voice, it brought her comfort. Sadness. Longing.  ~*~*~ A sharp, ragged breath drawn in and the sword slammed into the ground beside her head, narrowly missing.  Oh, shit!  Teeth bared in a voiceless snarl of effort, Sylaess brought her feet up and kicked hard at the empty husk of armor. Saronite screeched across the floor as she slid away a little, clattering back to her feet. The intense throbbing in her skull cinched tighter, trying to force her eyes shut.  Breathe. Walk through it.  The brittle calm settled over her, a ragged safety blanket as she fell back into the warrior mindset. It was getting nearly impossible to draw upon. Half clenched fist, runes flared along her body. An enormous spike of ice crashed up from the floor beneath the guard, impaling the hollow armor and immobilizing it.  The rush of magic fled and she wilted, head falling back a bit.  Get your shit together, girl! Find her, get the hell out. You know the drill. 

 The elf scrabbled up her dropped swords, hunting around for one that had been kicked away. Brought herself into a slow jog up the corridor. She’d made it this far. Again.

 The cages hung over the expanse. Were they floating? Chains were taught from the bottom of each descended into unknown depths, but ups and downs were questionable at best. It was not helpful. But she saw her. The ghastly form of Sinafay.  Sheathed her swords and made one giant leap from the edge of the stairs, teetering the cage over the ominous expanse. “--Ugh--” The impact was as graceful as a rotten fruit being hurled. Syl looped an arm through the bars. “Let’s... Let’s try this again.” Her voice was ragged and worn out. A gravelly toneless thing. The elf started fiddling with the lock. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Sinafay gasped, eyes wide as she leaned back against the far side bars of the cage, both to keep herself from falling over as it swung and to be as far away from this image of Sylaess as she could.

 “WHY do you keep coming back?! Leave me alone!” She growled, “I -know- what this place is! I -know- you are not really her!”

 The lock finally came free. Sylaess let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, sagging against the cage, her elbow hooked through the only real support she had. “Seriously, the amount of times I’ve had my ass kicked here? The Jailer picks better people to represent him, I assure you.” The elf grimaced, maneuvering herself to the side so she could kick the door open. Hastily healed slashes, unattended gouges and a myriad of other mostly superficial damage that she just didn’t have the energy to mend up again gave her a very... earthy look. Much like a worn out rag.

 “If you’re going to torture me, just get it over w—“

Sinafay cut herself off, however, as she felt something different about the Kal’dorei. It wasn’t her, per say, but more of what followed her. Spirits… lost spirits. They clung to her… Sinafay frowned, confused. Spirits wouldn’t cling to the jailor’s forces. If anything, they would be repelled… cowering.

 “Why do the lost follow you?” She asked, curiosity overcoming her panicked state.

  “...They think I’m a good option to get them out of here, but personally, I’ve now got fresh doubts up to my fucking ears. I come back for you because I promised Argonas I’d keep you safe.” Syl shut her eyes a moment. “I failed him.” And he’ll have every damn right to be disappointed, but let’s survive this first. 

Those black eyes seemed to stare off into the expanse of cloudy nothingness a moment, she shook her head. “I’ve got to try to get you out. I...”  Sylaess grimaced again, letting the words just fail. Steeled herself up for the next exertion. Leapt, caught the edge with her chest and her legs swung beneath the platform. Vivid swearing strained as she scrabbled her purchase of the edge, plated hands slipping. Saronite screeching on stone. It all made to ramp up her headache that much more. “Fuck sakes!” 

 A wisp flew wildly about her head. “Would you piss off!” Hanging on by sheer will and gumption, she snarled.  “This is the worst joke I’ve ever been the ass of. Almost.” Wheezed the words, resting her face on the cold stone of the platform, once she had enough grip not to be in perilous threat of falling. “Or at the very least, the worst drug trip I’ve ever been on.” She still dangled over the edge precariously. Hooked a foot finally.

Sinafay’s tail twitched and flickered erratically behind her as she didn’t move from her side of the cage. She kept her suspicious gaze on the struggling elf, internally debating on the validity of her words. She wanted to believe this was really her friend, but how could she be certain.

 “If you are the real Sylaess, then why do you not remember the very event that brought us together as friends? Do you remember Sigil? Draenor? Tanaan? Do you know anything about me other than the fact that I am Argonas’ mate? Why are your eyes like that? What is wrong with you?!”

Sylaess gave a good heave and hauled herself back on top of the platform gracelessly, laying there a moment. So tired. Empty. Debating on how to answer all of that. Breath in, hold, release. She brought herself up to sit on her feet, tucking back her ragged black hair. Drew a hand over her face wearily.  “A long story full of mostly bad decisions.”

 “I don’t remember anything because I sold my memories to an Old God. I remember snippets. Fragments. Worse, nothing makes real sense. No, I’m not sure you’re real either. In fact, I’ve not been sure about reality since falling in with N’zoth. Good news is, he’s dead.”  The abrupt and naked truth of it stung like a raw scrape in cold air. Somehow, hearing it in her own gravelly ruined voice made it all too much. 

 “My eyes are like this because the kaldorei--Tyrande--called upon the Night Warrior after the burning of Tel’drassil. I took the blessing with thousands of other kaldorei. This was before the Old God made an appearance.”  A bitter smirk twisted her face. “And as for what’s wrong with me,” Her gaze finally swept over to Sinafay as she rose. “I don’t think an eternity is enough to cover that one.” She spread her hands slightly, as if surrendering. The silent ‘what do you think now?’ so plainly evident.

Sinafay just… stared, head slowly tilting to the side as it often did when she was struggling to understand something. An awkward silence stretched on between them as she tried to make some sort of sense of everything Sylaess had said, before finally speaking up.

 “Teldrassil… burned? An Old God? Why would—“ 

 No, she didn’t have to ask about the Old God deal, she’d made similar mistakes in the past. At least that explained the missing memories.

 “I… remember a large influx of souls arriving… a lot of them ended up in this tower…”

 She shook her head. There was nothing to be done about that. This was her first time in Torghast, and she didn’t know how to get around at all.

 “My apologies, Sylaess. When we -do- manage to finally escape this place, and I manage to return to Azeroth, I will do all that I can to help get your memories back.”

 She looked at the distance between the cage  and platform.worried her bottom lip.

 “So I take it that, in true Sylaess fashion, you have no idea where we are or how to escape.

 “We’re in a place called Torghast. It’s the worst place in the Shadowlands you could possibly be. Of course.” The elf smiled a bit, superficially. A little refreshed that she wasn’t under extreme scrutiny. Something she shouldn’t have really feared with Sinafay. She knew that. Somehow.  “The halls keep on forever it seems. There’s a lot of levels down, the best we can do is keep trying.” She looked up at the swirling mass of clouds. At least she thought they were clouds. “This tower is the mirror of Icecrown citadel, so to speak. So. As we can’t get up and through to Icecrown, we’ve got to get back to whatever the hell is ground level. There has to be a door.”

 “Shall we?”

~*~*~

[tiaragqueen]

OOoo how about a #5 for itachi on the yandere prompts #1?

Because I Trust You

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Itachi Uchiha x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,2k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, possessiveness, implied isolation

[Edited]

***

5. “Are you doubting my love for you?”

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“All the reasons why I let you go, still there's not a day that can go by when you ain't on my mind at all.” - Doubt My Love [Jaz Karis]

It was during this moment where you were reminded of how lonely you were. Specks of white floated down like little angels, blanketing the entire world with their purity. Dead trees, burdened by overlapping snow, clustered together. The wind howled and tapped the glasses, and you could feel its frigidity seeped through the cracks. You slumped behind a window, vacant eyes staring far into the alabaster woods. A blanket draped over your back as you held a cup of hot tea, the heat intensified the redness on your skin.

When was the last time you saw Itachi again? It felt like months, but you were uncertain. He never left you that long, did he? Or maybe he did. There was no use in predicting his movements. He was as mysterious as the sea itself, smoothly deceived you with its calm appearance. You could frolic on the shore, chattering and laughing under the brilliant sky. But you could never guess the true depth of the ocean, just as you could never guess his genuine motivation and expression. Was he angry at you? Was he sad? Was he tired? You didn’t know. You weren’t adept enough to read between the seemingly blurred lines. But he always humored you, stroking your hair like a doting boyfriend and kissing your lips like he hadn’t practically abandoned you for weeks.

No, not abandoned. He’d never abandoned you. He loved you, or so he said. It was hard to know which one was real and which one was a lie. Maybe he loved your innocence only. You were pretty much gullible to him. He could spout random nonsense and you’d probably agree with a starstruck face. That was just proof of how putty you were in his hands.

Gripping the blanket closer, you sighed. Was that a bad thing, though? He’d saved you, after all. When you were teetering on the verge of insanity, he’d swooped into your rescue, the strange cloak billowing majestically behind him. You’d gazed at him with wide, sparkling eyes as he effortlessly eliminated the ninjas who had shattered your whole life. And you’d eagerly accepted his hand when he offered to whisk you somewhere far, away from the piles of dead bodies and everything you’d come to know.

You were so thankful, so desperate for a companion that you failed to notice the darkness that swirled within his crimson eyes, nor were you aware of his tightening grip on your joined hands. You’d stopped thinking that day, simply and enthusiastically putting your trust and soul in him, a mere stranger. And he’d readily accepted those gifts as he locked the door behind him and turned to face the horror of the outside world.

… Maybe you were gullible. Because if he could leave you without a second thought, without a moment of hesitation, then he must’ve not loved you as deep as he’d claimed.

It hurt to conclude that, but at the same time, you understood. Why would someone like him love you? He probably just took pity on you. The gap between your strengths and intelligence was wide and bottomless. It was only natural that he sought a matching partner, right? Affection could only go so far without connection, and once that your mind had cleared itself, you realized that those deep conversations were as rare as his visits. And even if he did come, you were too busy basking in his quiet affection to notice that he hardly talked about his days or past.

It shouldn’t have bothered you so much. You’d spent days without hearing anything, after all. But it wouldn’t hurt to know a bit, right? He’d probably learned something about you, heck, maybe your entire background. A little reciprocation goes a long way, no?

Fate allowed you no time to contemplate further as the front door clicked open. Itachi shook the snowflakes that stacked upon his raven hair and peered around, noticing that you’d yet to leap on him. You were always the affectionate one between the two of you, and it served to shorten the bridge. He was glad that you’d adapted smoothly to the new environment, much quicker than he’d expected. It meant that manipulation was unnecessary, but a sweet word here and there remained vital to keep your trust.

He’d broken his brother’s once, and he didn’t want to ruin another. Not if he could help it.

“[Name]?” His cool voice drifted through your ears like the calming sound of a steady river. A tall figure appeared on the doorway to your shared room, dark irises immediately found their target. Sensing his stare, you turned your head slightly and beckoned him to accompany you. Itachi smiled, an expression that you would’ve missed had you didn’t look deeper and went to claim his rightful spot beside you. You offered him your full tea, and he accepted it with a soft thanks.

“Where have you been?” you whispered, feeling the telltale nervousness building on your throat. You noted a long period had passed before he answered, and even then, it was ambiguous.

“I was out on an errand.”

“That long?” You didn’t know if it was appropriate for you to press on, but you figured something was better than nothing. Unfortunately, Itachi seemed to catch your abrupt curiosity because he stared at you emotionlessly.

“… Something went wrong along the way.”

And that was his only response before he started to sip the warm tea, a clear indication for you to drop the subject. However, you refused to back down. You thought that you deserved some clarity once in a while, especially when you’d been nothing but understanding to his constant disappearance.

“Why? What happened in there? Did someone attack you?” You knew you were beginning to irritate him – you could see his eyebrows twitched slightly – but you persisted nonetheless. “Why won’t you tell me more, Itachi? You’ve been hiding secrets from me. I feel like… you don’t trust me or something.”

“Are you doubting my love for you?”

“W-what? No! It’s not that. I just…” You gripped your forearm as you looked down nervously. “I just want you to be more… honest with me, you know? We’ve been together for so long, and yet, I barely know a thing about you. It feels unfair to me because you know… well, everything about me.”

Itachi sighed and had you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he was sighing in relief. Maybe he was, you weren’t sure. Even during his relaxed state, his face remained vacant. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I know, but I’m scared that you’d be angry with me. I don’t want you to think like I’m disturbing you or something…”

Itachi shook his head, a mildly amused smile gracing his features. It felt surreal to witness such a soft expression from him, and you wondered if he was simply entertained by your innocence.

“Of course not.” Lifting you from the mattress, he sat you on his lap and began to caress your arms as though he was consoling you before you could explode to his face. “I’m sorry that I made you think that way. If you want me to be more honest with you, then I’ll try to do so.”

Somehow, the words didn’t sound too comforting. He’d try, but for how long? Until you forgot about his promise and relished the scanty information you had about him? Until you realized that secrets were basically a part of him?

Regardless, you allowed yourself to fall into the snare by kissing his jaw and rested your head against his collarbone.

“… Thank you, Itachi.”

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Us and Andie Ch. 12

Summary: Bucky works as an Avenger because it’s what’s right. He feels he has sins he’ll never be able to make up for, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he comes across Andie, the daughter of recently divorced Y/N. The life he had once “maintained” in hopes of surviving changes as his heart warms for a tough-as-nails nurse and her wonderful daughter.

Pairing: Bucky x Singleparent!Reader

Word Count: 3806 words

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

A/N: IGNORE WHAT THE GIRL LOOKS LIKE IN THE PHOTO. I just really wanted to add a visual similar to what her powers look like :) ALSO shoutout to @littleredstarfish​ for the awesome art!!

Everything felt terrifyingly slow – forcing Bucky to realize there was nothing he could do to catch up.

Zemo shooting the gun…

The glimmer of Andie’s skin as she turned visible…

Bucky realizing what was happening…

And then she shimmered again.

The streaks of color reminded him of light reflecting through a gem. It was only moments until he saw her move between Y/N and the bullet. Her body now changed - glowing like a rainbow, and appearing…

Diamond.

The bullet deflected off her chest, hitting Zemo in the knee. He staggered, falling to his other knee. In that moment, it felt like time stood still. Andie’s chest was heaving as her hands trembled. Her foot was coated in blood, the glass shards forced out now that she was in her secondary skin.

Her knees buckled as Y/N turned towards her. She heard Y/N scream her name, but it sounded so soft – as if she was at the end of a long tunnel. Her whole body relaxed when she felt Y/N’s soothing touch and she collapsed. Y/N caught her, holding her close and rocking her. She was still shimmering. Still diamond.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to take Andie and Y/N in his arms and never let them go. But he couldn’t. Not yet. His eyes were transfixed on Andie, completely mesmerized by her powers as he hurried towards Zemo.

“I – Did I – “ The stuttering question made Bucky feel sick. He looked at Y/N.

She looked away from him, kissing Andie’s hairline. “No, baby girl. You didn’t kill him.”

Bucky wanted to kill Zemo then and there. The sound of his breathing made him livid. Winding up his metal arm, he struck hard, knocking him unconscious just as Steve and Sam came in. Sam was offering Steve a shoulder. If the bullet were anywhere else, they knew Steve would walk it off. But the thigh was a particularly sketchy area.

Yet that was forgotten as they saw Andie and Zemo. “Help them,” Steve told Sam, bracing himself against a nearby column.

Sam jogged to Bucky’s side, hand finding his back. “Bucky?”

He blinked, not quite registering that Sam was talking to him. “Quentin – is he?”

“Currently locked in the car. I got Scott’s suit.” Sam gestured to Zemo. “I can finish this up if you…”

Bucky didn’t need to hear anything else. He stepped away from the men, eyes pleading with Y/N to let him come closer. She watched him carefully, but silently nodded, blinking away fresh tears. Bucky crouched next to them, his hand finding Y/N’s back. He mimicked the patterns he saw she was tracing on Andie’s back, not sure what to say. They were all at a loss for words.

Quentin and Zemo were down.

But Ethan was still out there.

-.-.-.-.-

Being back at the compound was difficult for Y/N. She kept thinking about what Quentin had said – how she and Andie were put in that situation because of their friendship with the Avengers. And yet here they were.

She lightly brushed Andie’s hair out of her face, fingers running through her hair. In that moment, she was utterly thankful for the bedroom Bucky and Tony had created for her. The blackout curtains were keeping out the faint light coming from an early morning. It had taken hours for Andie to feel safe enough to slip back to her natural form. And watching her now, Y/N was just happy she had stopped crying.

Every bone in her body was spent, begging for a bed and the opportunity to maybe sleep. But her brain was wide awake, craving the assurance that her daughter was safe. Leaning forward, she pressed a light kiss to Andie’s hairline before hearing the bedroom door creak open.

The tiniest sliver of light threatened to light up Andie’s face. Looking over her shoulder, Y/N’s body went ridged when she saw Bucky’s massive frame. “Hey…” He glanced at Andie, attempting to keep his voice quiet. Y/N held a finger to her lips, standing up and joining him.

Stepping outside, she quietly closed the door and pressed her forehead against the frame. Her whole body trembled as she pressed a hand to her mouth, muffling a sob. Bucky placed a hand on her shoulder, wanting to offer some sort of comfort. She jerked, pulling away from his touch and leaning against the wall. He dropped his hand, pain in his eyes because he wanted nothing more than to hold her. “Um…the others - they wanted to talk to you.”

Y/N nodded silently, adjusting her dress. Bucky’s eyes flickered down to the bruises on her arms, the ones shaped like fingerprints, and his stomach lurched. He should’ve been there to protect her.

But now wasn’t the time to apologize. It wasn’t the time to tell her that he would do anything to take back these past several months. It just…wasn’t the time. And he was far too sure that their time had passed.

So Bucky led her to the debriefing room. It was painfully quiet. As Bucky opened the door, he watched Y/N step inside where Tony, Steve, Sam, and…Everett Ross waited. She was silent, feeling Bucky’s presence behind her. His warmth practically radiated off him, warming her back and providing something similar to comfort.

“I wanted to wait till morning for this,” Tony told her, earning a roll of the eyes from Everett. “But it seems the CIA had other plans.”

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Everette stepped forward, offering his hand to shake. Y/N simply stared. Out of everyone in the room, she looked the most exhausted, the most filthy. “I just want to extend my sincerest apologies for everything that you have had to go through.”

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head as she asked, “Did all of you slip in a nap and shower before this?”

“Ms. Y/L/N – “

“Y/N – “

Y/N closed her eyes, looking away and hugging herself. She didn’t notice the look that Bucky and Steve shared. Exhaling softly, she looked at Everett and told him, with the straightest face, “You can take your sincere apologies and shove them up your ass.”

Sam coughed, covering his mouth to hide the faintest smile. Everett glared at him and he shrugged. “You’re honestly surprised?”

Tony said, “Well, we did offer for her to get a shower, see a medic, get some clothes – “

“Tony,” Steve warned.

Y/N laughed. “Yeah, you offered all of that while forgetting that I have a daughter. She is my primary responsibility. Her feeling safe, her knowing that nothing will happen to her – that is my biggest priority. And do you know how…how sick and twisted and gut wrenching it is to know that the only reason this happened to us was because we…” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Because we knew you. Personally. We became friends with the Avengers and that put targets on our backs.”

Finally.

Silence. The one thing she wanted more than anything.

Taking a shaky, whimpering breath, Y/N felt herself teeter. She probably should have taken the time to get her head checked on. “Y/N,” Bucky whispered, helping her take a seat. Steve slid a first-aid kit across the table, relieved when Bucky caught it with ease. They didn’t need anything that would make her any more jumpy.

“I can handle that,” she whispered.

Bucky simply shook his head, immediately getting to work on cleaning the blood off her face. There was a silent plea in his eyes as he asked, “Please, let me?”

Everett was surprised by how kind and gentle Bucky was, using the smallest touches to sooth Y/N. He hoped it would be enough to make her comfortable. “I wanted to talk to you about Ethan Creed’s arrest.”

Y/N looked up, hissing when the harsh movement provided too much pressure against her head. Bucky pulled his hand back, giving her a moment. “You – You arrested him?”

All eyes turned to Tony and it was then when Y/N noticed the busted lip and faint bruising of his jaw. He didn’t say anything though. Instead, he pressed a button, allowing a hologram to appear near the farthest wall. Three separate images appeared.

Helmut Zemo.

Ethan Creed.

Quentin Beck.

All restrained in cubes with thick glass paneling. There was a cot, but nothing else. It looked like a warped, futuristic prison.

So many questions ran through her head in those moments. When? How? What about Ethan’s sons? What was going to happen to these men? Were they –

“Ow.” She flinched as Bucky finished wiping away the last of the blood.

Everett took a seat across from her, making sure to keep his distance. Comfort was their priority in this moment. “In normal circumstances, these men would be confined like this until my bosses decided what the best route would be. They would be left in the hands of the CIA.”

“But?”

Everett smiled, reaching across the table. His hand gently rested on hers, squeezing ever so gently. “Your ex-husband has friends in high places. Specifically, within the CIA, Hammer Industries, and the FoH. Which means one of the reasons he was an asset for Zemo was because, if his plan backfired, then we would be responsible for them and they would have a minimum sentence instead.”

“So what does this have to do with me?”

More silence. Everett looked back to Steve and Tony, silently asking them to step in with better words.

It was Tony that spoke up, “If you and Andie are willing to testify and go on record – “

“No.”

“Y/N, I know this is hard, but – “

“I will not bring my daughter into any of this.” Y/N leveled them with her eyes, making it adamantly clear. “Andie has been through more than any kid should ever have to. You can’t ask me to put her through more.”

“This would send all three men to the Raft.”

“No. No, there has to be something else. Anything.”

Everett watched him carefully, still unable to think of something off the top of his head. So instead, he leaned back in his chair and told her, “Give me time. I’ll think of something. Until then…I can promise they won’t be going anywhere.”

“Thank you.”

Bucky walked alongside Y/N, leading her through the compound and back where Andie’s bedroom was. “There’s a spare bedroom right here.” He pointed to the room. “And I’m two doors down.”

Y/N was silent, as if taking in this new information. “Why did you…” Her words trailed, falling silent as she lost the nerve to ask.

“What is it?”

She shook her head, opening the bedroom door and slipping inside. Bucky stared for a moment. Even though she was out of sight, he wanted nothing more than to go after her. He stepped closer, but then the door closed just as his hand reached the frame.

It made sense. Her retreating, refusing to talk. He didn’t blame her.

But god, it still hurt.

Stepping into his room, he flicked on the light and asked, “F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

Yes, Sergeant Barnes?

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “Let me – Let me know if Y/N needs anything. Please?”

Of course, Mr. Barnes.

-

Sergeant Barnes.

Bucky woke to F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice. Looking around, his eyes landed on the alarm clock on his nightstand. He’d only been asleep for a couple hours.

It’s Ms. Y/L/N. You asked for me to inform you if she was distressed.

Bucky was already on his feet, hurrying out of the room as he called, “Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Taking the quick strides to Y/N’s bedroom, he was relieved when the A.I. let him in.

His heart faltered when he saw her. She was tossing and turning in the bed, drenched in sweat and hair plastered to her face. Bucky recognized a nightmare better than anyone. Immediately, he was at her side. He brushed her hair back, fingers nimbly brushing her cheeks, her jaw, her shoulders. Anything to try and sooth her.

“Y/N? Y/N, come on. Doll, wake up for me.”

Y/N whimpered, crying out in her sleep as Bucky pulled her up and cradled her in his arms. One hand wrapped tightly around her waist, the other stroking the back of her neck, playing with the spot where her hair started. Though the touch was kind and meant to be soothing, she jerked and jolted, screaming so loud that she woke herself up.

Wide, panicked eyes stared at him as she kicked between them, trying to gain as much distance as possible. She didn’t stop until her back hit the wall. Bucky’s hands fell, landing on the sheets and watching her carefully. She looked so skittish.

“Y/N?”

Her heaving chest slowly calmed as she seemed to regain her senses. Fresh tears slipped down her face as she curled her knees into her chest. “I – “

“It’s okay. You had a nightmare.”

Y/N’s gaze shifted from him to the bed and back again. She was wearing a loose t-shirt and some sweatpants, probably something that Steve or Sam had lent. Her hair was damp, but from a shower or nightmare, he wasn’t sure.

He inched closer. “Y/N…please, let me help.”

Y/N tensed at that and hit his chest, a new wave of tears hitting her. “You were supposed to.” She choked on a sob, arms trembling as he flinched. “I wanted you to – to help. To be there. You were supposed to…” She sniffled and hit his arm before pulling into herself.

“No. Stop. You’re not doing that. Y/N - ” He grabbed her arms, forcing her to uncurl herself.

“Stop! Let go!” She moved to try and pull herself free and Bucky was beginning to see where Andie had gotten that behavior from. “Bucky Barnes, let go of me!” She tried kicking him and, if Bucky wasn’t so worried about calming her down, he would’ve found it adorable. She was acting like a child. It reminded him of how chaotic she was the first night they met.

Grabbing her ankles, he yanked her close and placed her legs on either side of his lap. Every time she told him how much His hands moved then, one grabbing her wrist while the other grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “Y/N. Please, you are breaking my heart.” His voice trembled as he watched her watery eyes.

“What do you think you did to mine?”

Bucky could’ve expected just about anything, but that was not it. He held her close, shifting so his back hit the wall. Looking up at her, he gently ran his thumb along her cheek. “We…really need to work on this communication thing, don’t we?”

Y/N tensed as he wiped away any sign that she had cried. “Bucky, I’m not doing this.”

He watched her, knowing he had to choose his next words carefully. “I left a month ago on a wild goose chase for the man who ended up targeting you and Andie. You really don’t think we should talk?”

“I – I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause what’s the point?” She sat back slightly, using his thighs as a seat as his free hand gently stroked her knee. He just wanted to comfort her. “I tried telling you before that we are from very different lifestyles. Hell, Andie and I – we got dragged into your world just because we were associated with the Avengers.” She ran her hands through her hair, pulling it out of her face. Her chest felt so tight. “I can’t…This isn’t…” She gestured to everything around them. “I need normal.”

“So do I.”

Y/N scoffed. “No, you are an Avenger. You need bad guys and missions and battles and…”

Bucky shifted, gently squeezing her leg and interrupting her train of thought. “Y/N, listen to me. Please?” She hesitated, biting her lip as he slumped against the wall. “This is all…really…horrible timing. What happened was just a few hours ago and I’m not even sure we should be having this conversation right now, but it seems time is never really on our side. So we should probably take advantage of everyone being asleep while we can.” Y/N stayed silent, picking at her nails and letting him talk. It was a relief that someone would simply let him speak freely.

Taking a shaky breath, he told her, “I have no interest in being an Avenger.” She raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to argue, but he beat her to the punch. “I don’t. I spent a lifetime brainwashed and working for Hydra. I did horrible things that I can never make up for, but I’m trying to do that with the team. I’m trying to take some step in the right direction.”

“Exactly! Which means we just don’t fit. There’s nothing about this that makes sense.”

“I met you because your kid got on a subway and I was worried about her. I had genuine concern for a kid I’d never met before. There’s nothing about any aspect of my life that makes sense, Y/N, and that is a prime example. But honestly?” His eyes searched hers, simply hoping that she would believe him. “I never wanted to be a soldier. Or a hero. I…I just wanted a family. And that’s why meeting you and Andie…Fuck.” He ran a hand over his face. “Why do I always struggle to talk around you?”

She stayed silent. Instead of picking at her nails, she was lightly tracing the arm next to his leg, trying to ease his nerves. Comforting each other came so easy. He found himself relaxing under her touch. “If it makes you feel any better, I have the same struggle.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I kept trying to tell myself that I was too broken for anything outside of being an Avenger. I thought I was so screwed up that it was my only option. And I kept reminding myself that…God, I hate that I ever thought this, but I kept telling myself that you and Andie weren’t my problem.” She frowned and he quickly told her, “That lasted four days, Y/N. Just four and you two had me wrapped around your fingers.”

Y/N slowly relaxed, any argument she had now fading away. “Bucky – “

“I know that we fucked up. If nobody else, I should’ve been more aware of the risk that came with you and Andie being a part of our lives. And that’s on me. Not you.” He took her hands in his, placing a light kiss to her knuckles. “I just…Y/N, I have been thinking about you and Andie nonstop. I am constantly worried about you two. I think about what new things I can do for her. How I can spend time with you and…” He forced himself to relax, to try and calm his racing heart. “I want to try this. I want to see if maybe I can fit in yours and Andie’s lives. If you’ll let me.”

“Um…” Y/N felt like her voice was caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure what to say or do, at a complete loss for words. So much had happened in one night. She had gone a month without even talking to Bucky and here he was, confessing emotions that she never would have expected. “Bucky…” She wanted to try. She really did. Everything about Bucky had made her smile. He had been someone she looked forward to seeing and spending time with. So why couldn’t she say that? “I can’t be a part of this life.”

“Then you don’t have to be. And neither do I. I don’t have to protect every family in the world.” A weak smile curled his lips. Those calmed nerves of his reappeared, threatening to set him on fire as he told her, “I just want to protect you two.”

Y/N could practically feel the walls around her heart crack and shatter. She wanted to fall into Bucky and let him catch her. She wanted…

God, what did she want?

She wanted to trust him. “We’re just trying?”

Bucky’s small smile turned into a grin, hope flashing in his eyes. “Yes. Trying, seeing if it works.”

“No missions?”

“Honestly?” He shrugged. “I am more than happy to leave all of that behind. I want normal, Y/N. I want you and Andie.”

She laughed. It was soft and weak, but it was there. “We aren’t normal. We’re a mess. And broken and… I mean, you saw Andie’s powers. We’re not easy.”

“And I would never insult you by assuming you were. But I want to try and take some of the drama out of both our lives.”

Y/N bit the corner of her cheek before nodding. “But we have to be slow.”

He grinned, sitting up more as his arm wrapped around her waist. Her hands found his shoulders. “I can do slow.”

“Bucky, I mean really slow. Andie can’t know. I don’t want her to get excited about a potential father-figure. I can’t do that to her after all of this.”

“Okay. Then we won’t. We will take it as fast or slow as you want. You make the rules.”

Y/N smiled at that. “Thank you.”

“But can I ask one thing?” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for whatever question he could possible ask her. “Can I please kiss you?”

Y/N really laughed that time, full and beaming smile in place as she pressed her forehead against his. “It’d be a waste of a moment if you didn’t.”

Bucky grinned and leaned forward, capturing her lips in a slow and intense kiss.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Warmth was the first thing that registered in Y/N’s head when she woke up. An arm was wrapped securely around her waist, reminding her of the events from last night and earlier that morning. Though she was still tense, nervous from everything that had happened at the warehouse, remembering Bucky comforting her was enough to put her at ease once again. She smiled as she felt Bucky tug her closer, still finding it so sweet that he refused to leave, simply wanting to hold her through the early morning.

But it was giggling that made her open her eyes.

She immediately propped herself up on her elbows when she saw Andie in front of her. That Cheshire cat smile curled her daughter’s lips, showing she was very aware of the situation.

It seemed the combination of Y/N’s sudden movements and Andie’s giggles woke Bucky from his deep slumber. He groaned, tugging at her waist and trying to pull her closer. “What’s going on?”

“Mom? Bucky?” she drawled, bouncing on her feet.

Bucky sat up when he heard Andie’s voice, finding her as he looked over Y/N’s shoulder.

Andie glanced from one to the other, eyes and cheekbones shimmering in rainbows due to her excitement. “Do you have something to tell me?”

-.-.-.-.-.-

Tag List:

@buckyssoul

@amnahs9695

@booktease21

@niahmariec

@purplekitten30​

@mr-robot-x

@lets--be-honest​

@maggyme13​

@littleredstarfish​

@mishaandthebrits​

[themuffinbee]

Lore Olympus Novelized, Chapter 2

First Chapter

I decided to combine chapters 2 and 3 since they basically flow into each other anyway. Plus, we get to the action faster :)

For the most part, I will be sticking pretty heavily to the source material in this little writing exercise. However, I may change a few minor things to better suit a prose retelling of the story, like maybe adding small actions/gestures or tweaking a bit of dialogue here and there. Hope you enjoy!

----------------------------------------------------

“I don’t think I should have come to this party…” Persephone said through the stall door, tugging down the hem of the dress yet again. No matter how she adjusted her clothing, she couldn't find a way to make the darn thing stop riding up her butt.

Loaning Persephone an outfit had been a great idea on Artemis’ part since the two of them were pretty close to the same size. Well, close to the same size, with one important exception: Artemis was curvy, to be sure, but Persephone was curvy. She could breathe all right, that part was fine. However, it was obvious that the dress didn't fit the way it should. It was just one more thing to add to the teetering stack of worries she had built up on the drive over to the Panathenaea, her earlier optimism now shriveled up and gone.

She was going to make an embarrassment of herself, she just knew it. 

“Come ooon." Artemis' voice echoed off of the sleek bathroom walls. "You look fantastic!”

Persephone attempted to smooth out the bunched-up fabric at her hips, wincing at the contrast of her calloused hands against the shimmering material. Even her fingernails looked unsophisticated, cut short and stubby so it would be easier to clean the dirt out from under them after working in the fields.

With a sigh, Persephone leaned forward and peered through the gap under the hinge. "I feel out of my depth...everyone’s going to think I’m some stupid village girl.”

“Nobody’s going to think that," Artemis said, unconcerned as she reached down to adjust the strap on her heels. "Come on, I don't want to talk to a bathroom stall all night." 

Persephone cracked the door open and peeked at her cousin around the edge. "Artemis, I'm really nervous…" 

"Awww, Persephone. You'll do fine. We'll stay under the radar." Her cousin sounded sincere enough, and Artemis didn't tend to attract too much attention to herself anyway. 

Persephone poked her head out a little farther. "One drink and then we can go, right?" 

"Promise." Artemis nodded.

One drink. That shouldn't take too long, she could handle that.

With a final steadying breath, Persephone smoothed out her borrowed dress, attempted something close to a smile, and ever so confidently said, "...Okay."

----------------------------------------------------  

"One drink and then I can go, right?" Hades cast a sidelong glance at his youngest brother.

Zeus looked at him as if he had sprouted three other heads. “What? No, no, no, no! The festivities have just begun!”

The festivities had been underway for a good hour and a half, but Hades knew there would be no point in arguing with Zeus. He’d spared no expense this time around and was obviously proud of his work. The floor under their glassed-in suite was awash in all matter of nymphs, gods, and demi-gods, a sea of celebration roiling in time to swelling music. Aerialists drenched in technicolored light swung on swathes of silk above, while a vast variety of libations flowed without end among the cheering crowd below. Hell, it looked like people were even starting to crowd surf over in the far corner. It was, by all accounts, a damn good party.

Too bad Hades couldn’t find it in himself to enjoy it.

“What’s the problem?” Poseidon asked, handing Hades a glass of scotch. “Normally you would be drinking us under the table.”

“Oh, he’s got blue balls because some nymph dumped his sorry ass,” Zeus answered.

You little shit.

Hades rolled his eyes and set his drink on a side table without tasting its contents. “Can you please not talk about my balls? Or my ass, for that matter?”

“‘Can you please not talk about my balls? Or my ass for that matter?’” Zeus mimicked in his most morose tone, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. Then he shot Hades a shit-eating grin and pointed at him. “That’s what you sound like.”

Before Hades could decide if he wanted to bestow a response to his brother’s terrible impersonation, Poseidon twitched and stiffened as he looked down into the crowd.

“Zeus…” the Sea God said through gritted teeth, the faint outline of shimmering scales beginning to show through his skin, “...did you invite Odysseus?!”

“Of course!" The shit-eating grin on Zeus’ face took on a fiendish glint. "You know, Poseidon, you’re just too entertaining when you get mad.”

Not for the first time that night, Hades found himself wondering why they put up with His Royal Pain in the Ass. As the father of the blinded Polyphemus, Poseidon was still more than a little sore about Odysseus stabbing out the Cyclops’ only eye. Granted, the Cyclops had been trying to eat the King of Ithaca at the time, so Hades sided more with his great-great-grandnephew’s point of view over that of his nephew’s...point of view.

Poseidon probably wouldn’t have appreciated that pun. Perhaps it was a good thing Hades wasn’t in the mood to annoy his brothers with bad wordplay tonight.

The Sea King thumped a fist against the glass and pointed at the wide-eyed sailor. “Yeah, Odysseus! MOVE ALONG!”

And move he did, with a start and a jolt, right into…

It took a moment for Hades to comprehend what, or rather who, had just encompassed the entirety of his vision. At first, his brain could only process parts of what he had seen before assembling them into a whole. Pink hair and skin as bright and rosy as the sky just before the break of dawn. A falling drink dissolving into a spray of petals in midair. Next, a pale gold dress that, wow, left nothing to the imagination, and—

It was then, as she sank to her knees among the tumult of revelry, picking up the scattered petals, that he saw her eyes. Sadness, one reaching far beyond that of a simple spilled drink, resided there. Judging by the look of inexplicable hopelessness on her face, it had probably been there for some time.

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts at forming a sentence with his stuttering tongue, he managed to ask, “W-who...who is she? She’s...”

The word merely echoed around in his head as his vocal cords failed him.

...Beautiful.

His pulse began to pound through his veins with a beat loud enough to rival the music blaring through the speakers over the dance floor. His fingers seemed to move on their own accord and pressed into his chest, as if they could somehow reach through his rib cage to calm his racing heart and ease the sudden ache constricting his lungs.

“Who, Pinky?” Poseidon asked.

Hades’ vision expanded to once again include the rest of the party around the mystery girl, now accepting a helping hand from Artemis as Odysseus turned back around to offer his apologies.

"P-Pinky?" He glanced back towards his brother, translating his words from sound to meaning at a snail's pace. 

“Persephone, she’s Demeter's daughter,” Poseidon continued. “She’s the Goddess of Spring."

Hades rested his forehead against the window, the coolness of glass grounding him to reality as he began to collect his scattered thoughts. This reaction wasn't…normal. No, not normal at all. He squinted out into the crowd, now doubting what his own eyes had seen. Surely this Persephone couldn't be so beautiful to warrant his earlier moon-eyed staring. It had to be a trick of the light, paired with some kind of romantic desperation after the disaster with Minthe.

Only one way to know for sure.

Reaching into his jacket, Hades pulled out his glasses, cleaned the lenses with his gloved fingers for good measure, then practically shoved the spectacles onto his face. All too aware of his brothers’ sudden silence and intense stares, he grabbed his scotch off of the table, attempting to recover at least the appearance of composure. Taking a nonchalant sip, he searched the lower level for a splash of bright pink.

She wasn't hard to find. Even in the multicolored mob, she stood out like a rose in a snarling mess of brambles. His improved clarity of vision only confirmed his first assessment: she was still gorgeous, perhaps even more so than before. It had been foolish to think that his mild nearsightedness could be to blame for what he had seen. He could feel himself getting sucked in again, unable to look away as she waved a stilted yet gracious goodbye to the unnerved Odysseus. 

“Demeter’s daughter, you say?” he asked, absently spilling some of his drink out of his forgotten glass. Any pretense at composure had flown out the window as soon as his eyes found her again. “I didn’t even know she had a daughter.”

Hearing his own voice made at least part of Hades’ brain wake from its stupor, though he still stared after her. None of this made sense. “Hold on. How come I’ve never seen her before?”

“It’s...complicated.” Zeus took a swig of his fizzing wine and thought for a moment. “But, basically, Demeter doesn’t like the way I run things. So, she opted to do her duties in the Mortal Realm. Apparently, I’m 'morally corrupt.' Whatever that means.”

Hades nearly rolled his eyes at the air quotes discernible in his brother’s voice, but that would mean losing sight of the Goddess of Spring for half of a second. It wasn't worth it. 

“So, for the most part,” Zeus continued, “she raised Persephone in the Mortal Realm. I’m surprised Demeter let her move to the city, to be honest. She’s always been super protective of Persephone.”

I can’t imagine why.

Expressive features…sleek, short-cropped hair…big doe eyes…curves for days wrapped up in that incredible dress…there shouldn’t be a way for someone to be such a mix of beautiful, sexy, and adorable. Looking around, he was surprised she didn’t have a string of would-be suitors following her around. Did no one else have eyes?

“Honestly,” Hades said as he folded his glasses to stuff them back in his jacket, “I think she puts Aphrodite to shame.”

His brothers grinned, elbowing one another in the side at this unexpected development, and for the first time that night, Hades smiled.

----------------------------------------------------

“Honestly, I think she puts Aphrodite to shame.”

… Honestly, I think she puts Aphrodite to shame… 

… Honestly, I think she puts APHRODITE to shame… 

The words went round and round in Aphrodite's head, seething just fifteen feet behind the oblivious jerk that spoke them into existence. 

Why? Why did they always do this? Some lovelorn dope sees a pretty girl, and obviously she must be compared to the Goddess of Beauty herself. Every. Single. Damn. Time.

And this time it wasn’t even some stupid mortal who had never seen her in her full glory. It was Hades of all people! One of the three Kings!

Ugh! The nerve.

This could not stand. Aphrodite needed to make an example out of him. Now. No, better yet, a certain someone needed to make an example out of him. Finish what he had never started months ago.

Yes. Perfect.

Aphrodite’s fingers flew across her cell phone’s screen, dropping her favorite disgruntled cat gif into the chat. She was going to give him five seconds before she called.

Five...Four...Three...Two—

‘What’s wrong, Mommy-kins?’ came Eros’ response. ‘Party no fun?’

What a good boy. 

Aphrodite tapped out her reply, ‘Get over here.’

‘No can do, this orgy isn’t going to coordinate itself.’ Followed by a string of sunglasses smiley emojis. ‘I wore a really cute polo shirt…’

‘The salmon pink one?’ She bet it was. That one went so well with his complexion.

‘YUUUUUS! I’M THE CUTEST!’

‘I love that one!’ Aphrodite added a heart-eyes emoji at the end, to show she was supportive. ‘Polo shirts aside, I still need you to get your butt here.’ Snorty face emoji, to show she was serious.

Then she closed the app and sighed. She loved her son, more than almost anything in any of the realms, but he needed to learn a few things about priorities. And a lesson. He needed to learn a lesson too.

As did Hades.

Next Chapter

[gaycrouton]

You're wonderful. I love the viagra fic and I want more please🍆🍆🍆

Aaaaaaannnnnnddddd THE FINAL PART IS HERE! Thank you so much for your support! And another thanks to @admiralty-xfd for being my love!

Side note, not to toot my own horn, but this is spicy

Clinical Detatchment II

She’d been doing good, in fact too good, at shutting her mind off to ignore any sounds coming from the other room. She tried to read her case files, get some work done, she even meditated. Aside from a few gasps, she was pretty confident she was doing a good job. Which is why the knocking startled her so badly.

Scully glanced at her watch, amazed by Mulder’s stamina, when she realized the lifetime that had passed had only been six minutes. Walking to the door, instead of relief, she was met with the biggest kicked puppy dog look she’d ever seen from him - pouty lip, glossy eyes, and all.

“Scully, I can’t focus because I’m anxious and I’m scared and I can’t get out of my head, but I don’t want to go to the doctor,” he rambled in a single breath. 

Sighing, she opened the door for him to come in and he waddled in holding the towel to his still prominent bulge. 

“What if you tried watching TV, just charge the Pay-Per-View to your card?” she asked.

“No TV,” he replied, his intonation implying he’d considered that option as well.

She was already mid-scoff when she looked around the room and realized that he was right. Of course they’d be in the one motel in America without a television. 

“What do I do?” he asked in one of the most desperate tones she’d ever heard. She couldn’t blame him, if the situation were reversed, she’d be in a panic by now.

“First, I want you to take a deep breath. You need to calm down,” she commanded, taking a deep breath to lead by example and repeating the motion to get him to mimic her.

“I would have tasted it if it were too high of a dose right?” he asked.

“Not necessarily,” she replied honestly. His brows furrowed and he took a step back, pacing lightly out of stress.

“I’m sorry, I know this is awkward and please don’t think less of me. I just really don’t want to lose my dick,” he confessed, looking at her apologetically.

“Mulder, you’re not going to lose your dick,” she replied. “How does it look now? Did being jostled aggravate it?”

“Is that what you call it, Scully? Being jostled?” he teased before looking down, taking the towel away from himself just a millimeter to try and peek. 

“Mulder, there’s no need to be shy right now,” she reminded him.

He looked at her with chagrin before acknowledging that. Wordlessly, he pulled the towel away and the motion caused his penis to bob once against his stomach before resuming its normal stance at attention. 

She took a step closer and grabbed it lightly, moving it gently to look at it fully. “Fuck, Scully,” he gasped in surprise and something that sounded much more relief than displeasure.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she bit back a gasp. When she’d brushed it with her palm she undoubtedly felt him twitch in her hand. “It still looks normal,” she assessed before taking a step back. 

As she did this, she noticed the way his eyes had been locked on her face hungrily, something she’d been too distracted to notice before. His eyes were dilated and his jaw was clenched, a sight that might appear like anger to others - but looked like unadulterated lust to her. 

Scully swallowed and, aside from his gaze flickering to the hollow of her throat, he came back to himself and looked away, covering himself once more. “Why don’t you call one of your 1-900 numbers?” she asked.

“First of all, you shouldn’t know about those. Second of all, I cancelled my accounts a few months back,” he replied.

“Why?”

He shrugged non-committedly and murmured “I didn’t feel like I needed them anymore.”  If she was gauging correctly, he looked shy at this admittance. She knew for a fact he wasn’t with anyone, so the timing just felt oddly coincidental to when they started hanging out after work more often. Part of her wanted to think it was directly related to their increased time together, but the rational side told her it was more likely that he just didn’t have as much time for it.

“You know, some say when the prostate is stimulated just right that orgasm is almost involuntary-”

“No judgement, but I don’t think the first time I want something in my ass is under these circumstances,” he deadpanned.

She wiped her face as if to rid herself of her stress and contemplated the situation. Really contemplated the situation. They’d been teetering on this line between being platonic and more for a while now. That back massage she’d given him a few weeks ago involved way more touching than necessary, him kissing her cheek was a given after a night hanging out and cheek had slowly been wandering into side of the mouth territory, and she’d dare to go so far as to say they’d even been cuddling without calling it cuddling during movie nights. 

All in all, their platonic relationship was a camel with two thousand straws on its back. This would be the one to break it.

She let out another long breath before looking him in the eye. “Mulder?”

He met her gaze and furrowed his brow, alarmed at her severity. “What?”

“I want you to know I’m only saying this because I trust you and if we want this can eternally remain a secret,” she started. He didn’t say anything, just looked at her with prying eyes, trying to decipher her meaning. Keeping her hands firmly planted at her sides, lest she give way to her nerves, she stated, “If you think there’s anything I could do to help, I’m willing.”

His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened, scanning her to make sure he was understanding her correctly. “Scully, I could never ask-”

“You aren’t asking, I’m offering,” she clarified.

He continued to stand there stunned, still holding the cloth against himself,  and she started to feel self-conscious. “You even mentioned earlier in your room that you were afraid you’d come in front of me. And earlier before at the restaurant you seemed to get flustered when I touched yo-”

“Yeah, Scully. I’m obviously attracted to you, but I don’t want you to do anything like that out of pity,” he explained. He paused for a minute before adding, “And I don’t want you to think I came in here under the assumption you’d help.”

She sighed and wished anything could be easy or simple. “I’d never think that, Mulder. And I’m not doing it out of pity. Again, I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t comfortable with the idea. You know me better than that.”

Her final words seemed to really strike something in him and a look of understanding started to cross his face. “But I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you and your condition either. Just because I find you attractive doesn’t mean I would ever expolit-”

“Really?” he asked, astonished, his sincerity almost laughable with the straining erection pressing the thin fabric held in front of him.

“W-what?” she asked, feeling like the room was a hundred degrees hotter than it had been earlier.

“You’re attracted to me?”

She rolled her eyes at how juvenile this all was. “Mulder, I think we both know we’re attracted to each other,” she declared honestly, unable to meet his eyes.

He was silent for a moment before chuckling lightly. “I never thought it would come out this way,” he stated quietly, almost to himself.

“Part of me isn’t surprised,” she admitted with a small smile. Conventionalities had yet to find a place in their partnership. 

“I know this,” he gestured to his erection, “-says differently, but I’m nervous. I feel like a teenager again,” he laughed.

She offered him a reassuring smile to let him know the feeling was mutual. “It’s just me,” she whispered shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Exactly,” he murmured. 

She took in a deep breath, feeling her heart continue to beat rapidly in her chest. The words were out there now, but that was only the beginning. “Do you think I could help you?” she asked, posing the question to him with a lilt.

It wasn’t meant to be seductive, but her question caused him to lick his lips and his eyes to roam to her chest before they shot respectfully to the wall art. “Can I be honest?” he asked.

“I’d be offended if you weren’t,” she replied.

He chuckled as he raised a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I’d always thought we’d take things slow.”

“We still can,” she told him in earnest, playing with the nail of her middle finger.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and stated uncertainty, “How?”

“Well…” she thought and looked around as if inspiration for how to get your partner off would manifest in the wallpaper. She was rewarded by an idea coming from a glance at the motel phone. “You talked to those women to get off before.”

“Yeah…?” he questioned, uncertain of her intent with that statement.

“What if…you talked to me?” she asked coquettishly.

It was a minute gesture, but she saw him squeeze himself through the hand towel. “So, we talk while I…?” He made a gesture to his crotch and she nodded. “It feels vulgar to jack off in front of you.”

Deciding honesty might help the situation, she admitted, “I wouldn’t be appalled if that’s what you think.” He cocked an eyebrow in surprise and she did the same in response. “But, what if for now, you sat on the bed and I sat in the chair by the adjoining door facing away from you?”

He nodded in understanding before meeting her eyes. “Are you sure?”

She nodded before walking over, grabbing the chair and dragging it to face the corner of the room, realistically only ending up three feet at most away from Mulder, but it gave the illusion of privacy. 

She sat down as she heard him get comfortable on the bed. They stilled for a moment in their positions, as if both really realizing what was going to happen. The only sounds in the room left were their pounding hearts and their shallow breaths. “I’ve never done this before,” she laughed nervously, breaking the silence.

“We don’t hav-”

“I want to,” she interrupted. “I promise.” She did too, despite her nerves, the thought of getting him off was one she’d entertained on countless lonely nights and the idea of finally fulfilling the fantasy was turning her on.

Deciding to begin, she asked. “So, what do you and the call girls usually talk about?”

“Um, sexual fantasies normally. Just like, verbally acting them out,” he admitted with hesitancy.

“Your fantasies specifically or one either of you just makes up?” 

“Mine. I’d tell her what I liked and she’d improv from there,” he explained.

Curiosity was burning in her as to if he was already touching himself. Was he waiting? Was he looking at her? “Tell me one.”

“You promise you won’t get mad?” he asked.

She wanted to send him a curious look at his choice of wording, but didn’t want to break his trust by looking. “Yes.”

“Um, usually, I’d ask her to pretend to be my coworker,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” she breathed. She’d never imagined his sexual habits as a conduit for relief of their own sexual tension, but the newfound knowledge stirred something deep inside. “What else would you tell her?”

“I’d describe you,” he admitted, the sound of his voice resonating slightly differently and she realized he was, indeed, facing her. “Your hair, your face, your body type.”

“Give me an example. What would you say to her,” she requested. She just wanted to hear him say it.

“She has short, auburn hair - enough to grab but not enough to get in the way; she’s beautiful, stunningly so, with intense blue eyes, plump red lips, and an aquiline nose; she’s very short-”

She let out a little huff of laughter and he paused to chuckle alongside her. “As I was saying, she’s very short, with a very lithe build - athletic but graceful.”

She was stunned at the delicacy and precision of his words, clearly all of the sentiments expressed were ones he was confident in and it gave her a boost of confidence. “What am I wearing?” Present tense. First person point of view.  He recognized that change as well and the tension in the room started to become more comfortable as they got into it.

“Your usual business clothes, much like the ones you’re wearing now.” She was about to ask another question when he added, “But underneath you’re wearing a matching black lace bra and panty set, and when I’m taking it off you tell me you wore it for me.”

A chill went down her spine as she remembered what she’d put on this morning. Had he seen somehow? The coincidence had her spooked, but thrilled at the same time. 

“Where are we?” she asked.

“The office,” he answered quickly, obviously already picturing it vividly in his mind. She wasn’t sure if he was making the next part up just to hear what she’d say or if this was really how it went. “That’s usually all I say before she takes over.”

There was a gruffness to his voice that told her he was undoubtedly touching himself, the gentle sounds of the bed moving underneath his shifting hips signifying the same. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in the basement, in the very same office they’d been in only a few days ago, where seven years of flirty comments, longing gazes, and sexual tension permeated the space.

“Okay, but let me know if I’m not doing it right,” she nodded, adjusting herself in her seat while trying to ignore the dull ache in her groin.

“I highly doubt that’s possible,” he murmured.

“But I just need to know one thing before starting,” she stipulated.

She heard the movements stop as he answered, “Of course, what is it?”

“In your fantasies, am I the instigator, or is it you?” she asked softly, biting her lips as she waited for an answer. He was silent for a moment and she could hear his mind whirring with the possibilities that came from both ideas. 

“You.”

She’d imagined both so many times that she would have been ready for either. The implication of his choice was obvious; her speaking as the instigator made it more for her rather than making it sound like she was just pandering to his desires. She hoped he knew that wasn’t what this was.

“Good choice,” she complimented before clearing her throat.

She’d truly never done anything like this before in her life. The only thing comparable was her journal that had seen glimpses of a really good fantasy or a recalled dream. That’s how she’d have to do this - just act like she was reading from her private diary.

“It’s Tuesday morning and you’ve been in a mood all morning,” she began. He chuckled and she immediately felt her cheeks redden. “I told you I hadn’t done this before.”

He stifled his laughter quickly to reassure, “No, no. I’m sorry. I just found it funny that even in a fantasy I’m brooding and morose.”

Comforted that it wasn’t her he was laughing at she smiled and defended herself, “May I continue, Mulhder.” She drew out his name in a more sensuous tone than she’d ever used in his presence before and she heard him agree readily.

“It’s Tuesday morning and I can tell something’s off. I’ve been looking across the desk at you since you came in and I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong and every time I ask, you just say you’re fine.”

As she mentally planned out her fantasy she blushed at the fact she was revealing quite a bit about her secret wants. Too late now. “It takes a few hours of prompting before you make a snide comment about me going out with another man.”

There was an abrupt halt then too, and he spoke up again, “Scully, don’t take this the wrong way, but I really don’t-”

She could hear him getting upset at the idea of her fantasy including another man and she smiled at the meta nature of it all, “Let me finish.”

The sounds started up softly again and she took it as a sign to continue. “When you mention it, I feel indignant. I’d spent the night touching myself to the thought of you and I woke up this morning double checking myself in the mirror and hoping you’d like what you’d see, and the fact you would think I could look at another man pisses me off.” The absolute honestly of the words leaving her mouth burned, her mouth felt like a loaded gun and her face felt like it was on fire. But the honesty was erotic.

Mulder thought so too. At these new words she heard a clear as day moan escape his lips, though it sounded like he tried to silence it. “I ask you what you’re talking about and it becomes clear someone said something stupid to you to get you riled up and it worked. I’m pissed you’d believe it so readily, but when I look at you I can see you’d rolled your sleeves up, your jaw is set, and you look absolutely jealous. Possessive even, and it turns me on instantly. I try to meet your eye with a leveled glance and try to ignore the fact that I can feel myself getting wet.”

He inhaled quickly and his breath comes out trembling. “I want to play with you a little bit, see how much you’re willing to admit you’re jealous, but I don’t think you will. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me now that you’re thinking of some nameless agent and imagining his hands on me. You’re thinking of him touching me, fucking me, making me come, and it pisses you off because you know it should be you. You know that no one could pleasure me better than you could.” Now it was her turn to take a deep, shuddering breath. She was staring at the corner of the wall intently, the depressed line where two surfaces meet, as she spoke. The comfort of not having to face him, yet hearing the effect her words had on him was painfully sexy.

“I ask what you mean and you confirm my suspicions. You overheard some guy make a comment about taking me out and you misconstrued it. But you’re not covering your feelings up at all. You don’t say it’s none of your business, you don’t say I can do whoever I want, you don’t say you don’t care, because you know that would all be a lie.”

She’d unabashedly squeezed her legs together to relieve some friction, but it wasn’t enough. She could hear the now rhythmic shifting of the bed, and with the hope he was too distracted to notice, without moving her arm too much she slid her hand in between her legs and up her skirt. Her knuckles brushed against her damp panties and she sucked in a breath and hoped Mulder didn’t hear it. She quickly tries to mask it as her starting another sentence and resumed her narration. “Even though I’m a little upset with you, I can’t stop focusing on how sexy you look. I stand up abruptly and I can tell you think I’m going to leave and you sit up in your seat. For a moment I think you’re going to try and stop me and the idea sends another wave of arousal rushing through me. But you stay in your seat and watch me like a hawk as I walk around the desk so that I’m right beside you, leaning back against the wood.”

She fingers the elastic on the side of her underwear before pulling it to the side and letting her index and ring finger press onto her swollen clit. Her body jolts once and her head rolls to the side. There’s a slickness to the sound of Mulder’s masturbation now and she knows it’s working. For both of them. “When I ask you if you seriously think I’m going out with someone else and you’re shocked. Before you’d been empathizing with the man, understanding what it’s like to want me and you were just jealous he acted on it. Now I’m making you empathize with me and you know me better than to think I’d be fraternizing with some other guy after how close we’d been getting recently.”

“Scully?” he prompted, his voice strained.

“Hmm?” she replied, not trusting her own.

“Are you touching yourself?”

She froze, her fingers just starting to press into herself as she realized she’d been caught. She was about to apologize before he requested. “Can I see you?”

His words weighed heavy in the room as she contemplated them, both of them eager to see what her next action would be. She took her fingers away, slightly surprised at the amount of wetness coating them as her underwear snapped back into place. She stood up and adjusted the chair so it was facing Mulder, and slightly closer to the bed too. She didn’t risk a look at him in fear of chickening out before she sat down. But as she slid into the chair she had to suppress a moan.

He wasn’t lying on the bed. He was sitting on the edge, his feet planted on the floor as he faced her.

He’d been watching her the entire time.

His cock was wet, thick, and swollen in his hand, which hadn’t stopped its rhythmic pumping. Encouraged by his brazenness, she slipped out of her blazer, leaving herself in her thin blouse, letting it fall to the ground next to her, and rose up slightly just to hitch her skirt over her hips. Then she reclined again, spread her legs, and resumed her prior actions.

She saw Mulder mouth the word ‘fuck’ as his hand sped up, and she had no doubt the look in her eye was anything other than lascivious. “W-where was I?” she asked.

“You were mentioning how close we’ve been getting lately,” he informed.

They locked eyes and smiled at the irony of that statement contrasted with their current situation. “Right. You start apologizing and I can tell you’re relieved, but you also feel bad for jumping to conclusions.” She swirls around her clit proficiently enough to make her gasp and jerk slightly against the chair and she saw Mulder’s eyes hungrily devour the motion. 

“Then what do you say?” he asked, adding a second hand below himself to cup his balls, fondling them with precision.

“I lean down close to you tell you I could never be with anyone else because all I think about is you and how much I want you, fuck,” she gasped as she started feeling the beggining twinges of an orgasm. She was reaching the point of inevitability and she couldn’t help but grind her hips against her hand. 

Scully let her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling, not saying anything as she began swirling her clit more fervently, chasing her climax. “Yeah, that’s it, Scully,” he praised, his voice husky and gruff.

Feeling guilty she was on the brink when this was intended to help Mulder, she forced her head back down to look at him, though her hand’s actions didn’t slow. Her voice was uneven and strained as she tried to talk through her arousal. “Hearing me say that was all you needed and you jump up from your seat and grab me, kissing me like your life depended on it. I’m overwhelmed with feeling your arms around me, the way your tongue feels against mine, and how your hands feel on my body.”

She’d spent the past ten minutes working them up, and with one more sentence, he made her come undone.

“God, I want you.”

Her jaw dropped open as waves of pleasure radiated through her entire body. She screamed his name as her fingers mercilessly worked her clit to draw out her orgasm. Her legs went from being rigid, to squeezing her hand between her thighs, to quivering in quick five second intervals. 

When the orgasm subsided, he was pumping furiously and looked absolutely drunk with pleasure. Even though she’d just come, every cell in her body was on fire and craving more. 

The pretense they were hiding behind, the divulgence of a mutual fantasy, was undeniably sexy, but in this moment it didn’t feel like enough. She’d spent years fantasizing about them over and over again, it would never get old, but she fantasized because she felt they were things that could only happen in a dream.

She didn’t want to fantasize when the reality dangled its potential right in front of her face.

“Mulder,” she whispered, his name tumbling wordlessly from her bitten lips.

“Hm?” he replied, slowing down just ever so slightly. 

“I know you wanted to take it slow, but haven’t we waited long enough?” she questioned, her chest rising and falling as she tried to stabilize her breath.

“Are you sure?” he replied, halting his motion and searching her eyes for the hesitation he’d never find. 

“In your fantasies, am I the instigator, or is it you?”

“You.”

Taking a deep breath, she steeled her resolve and stood up. She locked eyes with him and maintained eye contact as she sauntered over to him and hooked a leg over either side of his hips on the mattress, relieved when his hands came to her thighs to stabilize her before roaming the skin experimentally. The whole time he stared at her with so much reverence she felt like Aphrodite incarnated. 

Regardless of her boldness, the last ten minutes included, and despite the fact she could feel their arousals all but straining to touch the other, the absolute intimacy of this situation was not lost on her. This was really going to happen. She was nestled on Mulder’s lap, so close she could smell his aftershave from this morning and she could feel the warmth of his body head radiating onto her, and she started to feel her heart race with something other than arousal.

She raised her hands up, ignoring the way they were trembling, and cupped his cheeks, taking a moment to stroke her thumb against the skin textured by his five o’clock shadow. Her eyes roamed his face as she let her thumbs dip low enough to stroke his full bottom lip. He surprised her, eliciting a gasp, as he pressed a kiss to the wandering digits.

She looked up to meet his eyes and saw adoration reflected in their depths. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered, the words ripped from her lips without her giving thought to them.

A humbled smile broke out from beneath her thumbs as she felt one of his hands travel up her back to rest on the nape of her neck, his index finger instinctively tracing the scar he didn’t need to see to locate. Her breath hitched at the contact and, in the same breath, she lowered her hands to his shoulders and pressed her mouth against his. 

The timidity that may have been present under other circumstances was far removed as a result of the mutual masturbation session that had just taken place and the suffocating desire that was enshrouding them both. As soon as their lips touched their tongues followed suit and he pulled her tightly against him so that they were flush together.

Her hands started at his shoulders, but they quickly migrated south to roam the expanse of his back, enjoying the curves and contours of his muscles under her touch. Widening her legs, she sank down so that his erection nestled itself into the vee of her thighs, rubbing against the soaked fabric of her panties. He groaned against her lips and bucked upwards in a languid scooping motion that made her gasp.

He surprised her by hooking his arms under her legs and standing up, bringing her along with him. She let out a huff of aroused amusement at his eagerness before he turned around and laid her down in the middle of the bed, crawling on top of her as soon as she hit the mattress. He took a moment to rid himself of his shirt and she followed suit, unbuttoning her shirt as quickly as she could with her excitement hindering her precision. He saw what she was doing and started at the bottom hem edge of her shirt, unbuttoning simultaneously in the other direction until their hands met in the middle so she could arch her back and rid herself of the garment. She went one step further and lifted her hips so she could shimmy out of her skirt, tossing it off the bed before repositioning her legs against Mulder on either side.

He placed his hands greedily on her sides and ran them up and down her torso and all over her abdomen like he could commit it to memory by touching her enough. His eyes drank her in and she felt his hips roll against hers, pressing arousal to arousal sensuously. “Black lace,” he murmured with an appreciative grin as he used his hands to cup her breasts and tease her nipples through the thin fabric.

“Sometimes when I’m getting dressedI think about what you’d see if if were you undressing me. If you’d like what you saw. I didn’t know how right I was until earlier,” she admitted, arching her back and scooting so she could press herself more firmly against him and undulate her hips to match his movements.

He paused and a thoughtful look passed his face. “You thought of me when you put this on?” he asked.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip as she watched him. He smiled like this was the best news he’d ever received. He moved one hand to the valley of her breasts and teasingly toyed with the clasp. “As much as I love your taste in lingerie,” as he said this he unclipped the middle and it came apart, her breasts shifting out of the confines. Then moving his mouth over where the clasp had been, continued with, “- I want to see all of you.”

She helped him remove the bra, tossing it off the bed before his head descended and he latched his mouth directly onto her nipple, sucking, teasing, and nipping before diverting the attention to the other one. Each flick of his tongue sent a ripple of pleasure down her spine, goosebumps erupting over her skin as she clutched the bedsheets. When he switched his attention from breast to breast, he’d pepper little kisses all across her sternum and whisper half complete statements like “so beautiful” and “can’t believe.”

Through her haze of arousal she remembered what started this all and figured they shouldn’t wait anymore. “M-Mu-lder,” she whimpered, squeezing his hips with her thighs to get his attention.

“Hmm?” he hummed with a nipple still in his mouth, the wetness heightening the pleasure the vibrations caused.

“I want you, now,” she moaned, grabbing at his shoulders to pull him up.

He grunted enthusiastically and lifted himself off her. She missed the contact, but was quickly rewarded with the sight of him shimmying out of his boxers before crawling back on top of her. 

His face was looming over hers as their bodies pressed flush together and it was another moment that broke through the haze of lust. It was as if the moment dawned on them both and they couldn’t help but smile. She lifted a hand up and brushed his hair back as she beamed at him, trying not to ruin the heat of the moment by getting teary eyed. They didn’t have to communicate to know the gravity of this moment, that everything they’d ever done had been leading up to this moment. 

She leaned up and kissed him sweetly on the lips as she reached in between them to find his erection and guide it to her entrance. He hissed at the contact and watched her reaction as she angled her hips to allow his tip to sink in an inch or two.

Mulder’s inside me.

It wasn’t even all the way yet, but the simple fact it was happening excited and thrilled her. Mulder eased himself up into a position where he had more control without ever slipping out of her. “You’ll let me know if I hurt you, right?”

She raised her legs up and hooked them around his back so that he had easier access, wrapping her arms around his neck at the same time. “I know I won’t have to,” she whispered, placing a kiss to his lips before pressing her heel into his back in encouragement.

Slowly, he eased in inch by inch, giving her time to adjust to his size. Her body tensed occasionally at the intrusion and the slight pain from being stretched so much, and, just as she predicted, Mulder took her hitched breath or the tensing of her muscles as a sign to pause until she relaxed again. During the brief intermissions, he’d kiss her mouth or play with her nipples, anything to help ease the dull pain.

But when he was completely in and she was able to move her hips a bit in exploration, the dull pain began turning into pleasure. Pleasure that Mulder had undoubtedly been feeling excruciatingly well this whole time if the sweat on his brow and the look of rapture on his face were any indication.

“I’m good,” she breathed out huskily. “You can move.”

He settled into a better position where he still had control but where their pelvises could have more contact. He began at a slow, languid pace, analyzing her face for any sign of discomfort and using it as a gauge for if he could speed up.

In no time, he was snapping his hips back and forth with his thrusts - the entire bed rocking with the momentum. She’d never felt so full and satisfied in her entire life and for what felt like the first time - sex wasn’t partially performative. Not once did she make a sound just to let Mulder know she was having a good time. No - these moans and whimpers continually falling from her mouth felt like they were being ripped from her. Involuntary reactions to an overflow of overwhelming lust and satisfaction all caused by him.

Mulder’s face was a mask of complete and utter bliss. Not once did his eyes leave her body; they roamed from her face to the way her breasts bounced on her chest to her glistening arousal as he bucked against her. “You’re s-so beau-tiful, Scully,” he praised with struggling breath.

“So are you,” she replied with a quick exhale, smiling at him. Watching his muscles work under his skin as he moved was extremely erotic.

She felt the stirrings of a second orgasm building, but she knew it would be harder in this position. “Mulder, I wanna be on top,” she requested ineloquently.

He smiled at her and let out a full blown chuckle as she squealed at his quick movement. With amazing dexterity, he rolled to the side onto his back while keeping her latched to him with his hands on her hips. In a whirlwind of motion, she was on top of him, knees on either side of his hips, as he laid on his back.

The visual stimulation alone was almost enough to send her over the edge. His engorged and throbbing cock was still buried to the hilt inside of her while he looked up at her in awe. It was empowering and she’d never felt more attractive. 

She adjusted her knees into a better position before she began rocking, lifting herself up and down his shaft without letting him fall out. She threw her head back at the sensation and raised her hands to cup her breasts, playing with the weight and tweaking her nipples to heighten her pleasure. She gasped and jerked when she felt his hands rest on her hips, letting one hand dip lower so his thumb could circle her clit as she rode him.

“Fuck, please,” she gasped, picking up the speed and enjoying the lewd sounds of their sexes joining reverberating off the motel walls. 

Intermittently, she’d stop bouncing in favor of sinking down as much as she could and squirming on his lap, enjoying the way she could feel his whole cock inside her and how his tip pressed against her walls so deeply. Whenever she did this, he’d pick up where she left off and buck his hips upwards, making her bounce slightly on his crotch.

One of the times she did this, he started swirling her clit furiously and she knew she was done for. “Muldermuldermulderpleasedon’tstop,” she rambled as she felt her body climbing the peak of pleasure, excitement building at the prospect of jumping over the edge and falling into the depths of ecstasy. 

He could see it in her face and became relentless, swirling her swollen nub mercilessly as her ground her hips against his, keeping her firmly pressed against him by grabbing her hip with his free hand. “That’s it, Scully. I want to feel you come,” he growled.

Something about the way he said her name, mixed with the overwhelming sensations made her second orgasm roar through her. She all but collapsed on him, desperate for as much contact with him as possible as she shook and gyrated her body to prolong her climax. She could see stars and heard a ringing in her ears from the intensity, and she groaned in pleasure when she felt him start thrusting erratically. There was so much intensity that she felt his hips lifting off the bed before she felt him spill inside her as he cried her name into her hair.

She shakily chuckled as she fell against him, not wanting to break the contact yet, but too spent to have the energy to do anything other than lay on top of him. She rose and fell with his uneven breathing, and her eyes fluttered shut as his hand came up to stroke her back tenderly.

“That was-” he began.

“Better than any fantasyI’ve ever had,” she finished, lifting a hand to rest next to her face on his chest.

“You can say that again,” he laughed, kissing the top of her head.

She was so soothed by his warmth and his fingers making lazy patterns on her skin that she never wanted to move. She distantly felt his breath even out and his cock softening inside of her as she felt sleep start to-

Wait.

She rolled off of him so that she instead lay flush parallel to him, still in his arms, as she took a look down. “Mulder, your erection’s gone,” she exclaimed in relief.

He craned his head to look and relief that he wouldn’t have to go get an operation on his penis shone through his eyes. He turned his neck and placed a kiss to her lips, pulling back only to say, “I have a really good doctor.”

[kny-secret-santa2019]

From: @imagine-your-party-hosts

To: @kny-ramblings

notes: hello!! I was your Secret Santa ^^ I do your prompt “aren’t you cold in that?” as well as “look out, it’s icy!” I hope you don’t mind!!

It was cold outside, with big, fluffy puffs of snow piling in the Butterfly Estate’s expansive yard. You’d been stuck here after the last mission ended with a broken bone, and you’d never been more bored! With no Tanjirou, Inosuke, Zenitsu to keep you company you felt like you were going crazy. They’d been sent off on their own new mission not long after you’d come back here, and you’d never quite realized how much you’d miss Inosuke and Zenitsu’s babbling or Tanjirou’s comforting eyes and strong back carrying his wooden box and-

Your sword hit the dummy at the wrong angle, and the shock reverberated up your arm and throughout your body. You gripped onto the hilt tighter and shook your head, standing up straighter, seeing your breath cloud in front of you, warm and wet. A voice inside you wondered what exactly you were doing out here in the freezing cold, without even your haori, and only in your uniform that felt foreign after your two months of hospital garb, and another said that you had to be able to catch up to the others and make up for the time you spent in recovery. You didn’t want to slow the others down, not when you all worked so well together, not when Tanjiro was counting on you-

“[Name]-chan?”

You jumped, your feet stomping down in the snow, before you turned towards Shinobu, standing there with her butterfly haori wrapped tightly around her. “What are you doing out here? You better not get a cold, you’ll get stuck here longer,” she warned, and you shuddered, both from the cold and the idea of staying in a hospital bed a day more.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to hold my sword and practice. I finally got out of my cast,” you told her with a small laugh, though you still reached to sheath your sword, stepping towards her.

“Tanjiro-kun and the others are on their way back right now. Maybe if you hurried and get cleaned up you could meet them at the gates?” she offered, and you stood at attention, nodding your head.

“They’re okay?” you asked, your voice desperate, and Shinobu offered a smile.

“I’m sure they’ll be tired, but they’ll be just fine. It wasn’t a hard mission. Let’s get you inside,” she said, stepping aside and waiting for you to enter the doors behind her. You got your haori, meeting her to walk to the gates; the place was covered in snow with just a small shoveled path for you and Shinobu to walk through, and ahead of you you could see a small speckled neon that was Zenitsu.

“[NAME]-CHAN!!” he yelled to you, lifting his arms up wide to you. You waved back at him with a grin; you’d never thought you’d be so happy to see Zenitsu. Inosuke was not far behind him, still refusing to wear a shirt even as snow melted as it touched his skin, and there next to him was-

You broke into a run down the snowy path, Shinobu giving a laugh as you did. Inosuke whooped and punched at the air, while Tanjiro and Zenitsu both hesitated and went to meet you halfway.

“Look out! It’s-“ Tanjiro began to warn, though you’d already skidded on a patch of ice and slipped - something came out of your mouth, a curse that you weren’t sure was at the snow or your clumsiness or at the idea of everyone watching you break your arm again and get shoved back into the Butterfly Estate, when Tanjiro reached out and caught you, holding you by your elbows.

“… Icy,” he finished with a soft laugh, and you were blown away by how warm he was on such a cold day. He helped straighten you up, while from behind him Zenitsu was telling you to be careful, “because you couldn’t ruin such a lovely face.”

“Is your arm better?” Tanjiro asked when you were standing secure, and you nodded, holding your arm out to the three of them.

“It looks the same,” Inosuke remarked after inspecting it for a good thirty seconds.

“Except not bent with the bone sticking out,” Zenitsu shuddered, and Shinobu appeared behind you.

“[Name]’s all fixed up, boys, and will be ready to come with you in your next mission,” she told them, and while Inosuke and Zenitsu gave over the top applauds, Tanjiro grinned brightly. “But you should rest after being out for so long, especially with the weather so terrible. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get some time off for their holidays - but I doubt it.” She gave a quiet laugh, and though the other three huffed, you were grinning and entirely ready to go back out on your next mission.

“Aren’t you cold like that?” Tanjiro asked you as Shinobu was leading you four back to her estate, and you shook your head, though your cheeks were windburned. He sighed, though still reached to remove his own haori and lay it over your shoulders, regardless of your protesting.

“I’m fine, really! It’s not that long of a walk back to the Butterfly Estate. Besides, you’ll get cold,” you told him, pushing the haori back to him, though he only pushed back.

“It’s not that long of a walk,” he repeated, and though you rolled your eyes you pulled the checkered haori closer, looking away from him. From behind you two Zenitsu huffed, something about how he wished he’d thought about that, and Inosuke boasted about how he didn’t even feel the cold. Back at the estate you let Tanjiro’s haori fall off your shoulders, folding it over your arms; he was shivering and trying his absolute best not to show it, and maybe if not for the teetering box on his back it wouldn’t have been noticeable.

“Aren’t you cold like that?” you teased him, handing the folded up haori back to him, though he only placed his hands atop yours and pushed it back to your chest.

“You can wear it,” he assured, and you wondered if his cheeks were pink from the cold or something else.

“You two should flirt somewhere else,” Zenitsu deadpanned, and Tanjiro immediately wheeled on him, sputtering.

“W-we’re not flirting!!” he objected, while Inosuke tilted his boar head and wondered aloud what flirting was.

“I get you’re trying to make me jealous, and it’s working, but come on, Tanjiro,” Zenitsu continued in a monotone voice, while you retreated back to your room with a red face.

Up in the empty room you’d been given, you shut the door behind you and sat the folded up haori down on the bed. Was he flirting? Zenitsu always accused Tanjiro of hogging you to himself, but you weren’t even sure what that meant, and just chalked it up to his ramblings. You looked down at the checkered haori, and were reaching out to run your hand along the fabric when a knock at the door made you jump, going to open it.

“I’m sorry about Zenitsu. I’m sure he didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Tanjiro was saying and you opened the door. The box on his back was gone, and you wondered where Nezuko was.

“It’s okay,” you told him, stepping aside for him to come into your room. “Here’s your haori back. Hopefully we can head out on a mission sometime soon.” you remarked as he went to pick up the folded haori, and he gave a shaky laugh.

“Really? I hope we can get a few days to relax for the holidays,” he told you, glancing back over his shoulder at you, and you shook your head.

“I’ve had plenty of time off. Tanjiro?” you asked him, and he stood up straighter, pulling his haori on. “… Were you flirting?”

His shoulders went rigid, only one arm in a sleeve, and he rigorously shook his head. “That wasn’t the intention, and I’m sorry if I offended you, [Name]!”

You laughed, going towards him and helping him put the other sleeve on; he was stiff under your hands, though still let you adjust the haori on him. “I’m not offended, Tanjiro,” you assured, placing your hand to his back and walking him towards your door.

“O-oh, that’s good…!” he breathed out, stepping out your door when you opened it, and you smiled up at him.

“Just hoping it was true,” you laughed, and he blanched, sputtering your name as you closed the door in his face, still in giggles.

“T-that’s not fair, [Name]-chan!!” he was saying through the door once he’d recollected himself, and Zenitsu, standing right beside him all of a sudden, stomped his feet.

“It really isn’t!!” he was yelling, and Tanjiro jumped, turning to him.

“You shouldn’t be eavesdropping!” he began, and Inosuke, standing there, slapped his thighs and demanded they stop speaking in code and teach him these words.

[arissayoo]

Neverland -> [Ateez AU]

Chapter 2

Genre: Thriller, Horror, Fantasy, Lostboys!Ateez

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence and dark/horror themes, fem!reader, cursing

Summary: As you work to gain the trust of the lost boys, you hear of the various magic powers that are found within the island, fueling your desire to return home. The horrors lurking within Neverland continue when you receive a cryptic note containing information on the lost boys’ dark secret, leaving you questioning if you sided up with your worst nightmare. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Seonghwa led me through the dark narrow cave, the smell of sulfur invading my nose.

“God, how do you guys live with this smell?” I covered my nose. This was also kind of a small place to be housing eight boys.

“Oh, yeah I forgot to mention that, sorry. It covers up our scent. Our base is not that far up.” He continued walking, stepping to the side to avoid the large body of water. We turned a corner, the darkness disappearing as sunlight poured in from the ceiling. 

“Woah.” I gasped, my mouth hanging open in awe.

“This is it, welcome to The Den,” Seonghwa announced, chuckling at my reaction.

The narrow walls of the cave opened into a large dome shape, the expanse of space occupied by a large house that had been built into the cave. My mouth was still gaping like a fish when I realized Seonghwa was already at the front door. I ran to catch up with him, admiring the detailing of the structure.

“I would offer to give you a tour but I’m worried about your injuries.” Seonghwa looked at me worriedly. The blood from my cuts had mixed with dirt and dried on my legs.

“Oh right.” My voice showed my disappointment. This place was so beautifully crafted, the cave walls serving as the basic structure of the house. “How did you guys find a place like this?”

“We didn’t. Yunho built it with some help from us of course.”

“WHAT? You mean to say you built this whole house out of a cave by yourselves?” I exclaimed, my voice echoing throughout the living room. Seonghwa stayed silent leading me into a room on the first floor.

“This is my room, it doubles as an infirmary.” He opened the door, gesturing for me to sit in the corner. “I need you to place your legs on this, and I'm just going to feel for any, uh .......swelling.”

I just watched as he placed his hand on my shin, not touching any of my cuts but barely grazing the messy blood-dirt that dripped down my leg. I couldn’t feel the pain earlier due to the adrenaline rush, but now I could feel a stinging sensation from the cuts on my legs. Seonghwa closed his eyes, breathing in slowly before opening them again, his irises glowing a bright green.

“What the?!” I shrieked, trying to squirm away. Seonghwa’s hand clamped around my leg holding it in place.

“Stay still.” It was more of a growl than the normal voice I was used to. I whimpered in fear, his hold too strong for me to even consider moving. With one blink, his eyes went back to normal and he let go, turning to gather supplies. “Thankfully you managed to not cut yourself on any Manchineel trees. There's just a little venom from the Khanin’s claws, that’s why you feel stinging.”

“Excuse me, care to explain what the fuck just happened?” I backed into the corner, suddenly much more defensive from earlier.

“I’ll explain but not until I finish cleaning up your leg. You need to hear this anyway.” He brought over disinfecting supplies and started cleaning my leg, with me flinching with every one of his movements.

Even though I was on edge and scared about what happened, I felt waves of calm wash over me. Seonghwa was wiping my leg with soft strokes to get all the dirt and blood off without hurting me. A large gash running from my knee to the middle of my shin was outlined in a dark red, small scrapes scattered around it. 

“This will help with any lingering venom in the cuts,” he spread a green mixture over my legs before wrapping them in white gauze. He gave me some in a jar for the cuts on my chest and packed the rest of the supplies up, locking them away.

“So, now can you explain the whole demon eye thing?” 

“It has nothing to do with demons. The island we are on now, Neverland, is....magical to put it lightly. Everyone here as far I can tell acquires unique powers shortly after arriving. That’s how we were able to build this house. My power is herbalist, I can essentially see and understand illnesses or injuries and know what herbs and plants will help. That's why my eyes were glowing.” 

“So all of you can do that?” I questioned, not really understanding what he said. 

“Like I said, everyone has their own powers that are different from each other. My eyes are the only ones that can glow.”

“You really expect me to believe that? And that I somehow woke up in a children’s fairy tale?”

“It’s not a fairy tale Y/N. How else would you explain any of this? You think we all abandoned our lives for some fairy tale.” He raised his voice. I was too stunned to speak. “You will eventually discover your powers, just as the rest of us did. Neverland has a weird way of incorporating your normal life outside of here into the powers you get.”

“How-” I cut myself short, not able to wrap my head around this information. 

“In the future, try to avoid the Khanins. They are shapeshifters that hunt the humans on this island. They will tear you to shreds if they get the chance. Also, you need to learn our rules if you are going to stay with us-”

Seonghwa paused when I abruptly stood up. “I-I’m sorry. This is just too much to comprehend right now. I need some air.” I ran out the door, trying to follow the route that Seonghwa had took when he brought me here.

Until I was on the beach. The beach that looked completely normal, so similar to the one close by my house. I realized it would be a while before I got to see that beach or go home for the matter. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the rush of emotions. Ever since I got here all I’ve been is confused and lost. I thought getting information would be helpful but it only ended up disorienting me more than I already was. Just the idea of being on Neverland, surrounded by magical creatures and man-eating monsters was enough to make a normal person go mad. It was enough to make the line between reality and fantasy in my mind a blurry mess, teetering on the unknown fear of why I was the one in this nightmare.

A rustle in the bushes snapped me out of the thoughts in my head, the hairs on the back of my neck doing handstands. Don’t walk towards it Y/N. Don’t go investigate. I took a step back, fearing the worst.

Another rustle. 

A high-pitched wail sounded, the birds in the surrounding trees flying out to escape whatever danger that was behind them. I covered my face, turning around to run the opposite direction and bumping into something.

“Watch it, Wendy, wouldn't want to get in our way,” A distorted voice rang into my ears. I looked up, the sun blocking their features. I lifted my hand to block the sunlight, seeing San’s face take an animalistic look, eyes wild as he pushed me aside. He twirled his blade in his fingers, devilishly licking his lips. 

Another rustle sounded before a large Khanin ran towards us at full speed. My heart stopped as I struggled to run away, tripping and landing on my back. The Khanin’s gaze focused on me, running up to attack. Before I could scream, San appeared in front of me, slashing its throat and covering me in blood. 

“Did you see that Yeosang?” San laughed, licking the blood off of his blade. The other boy pushed out from the trees, high-fiving the crazy blonde. I watched, still on the sand with my eyes wide. It wasn’t until I got up and reached up to my face, smearing the blood there that Yeosang noticed my presence. 

“You got a little blood on your face Y/N.” His hands gestured to his face.

“I almost got killed!” I screamed, facing a shocked Yeosang and a smug San. The sky became dark and I could hear thunder rolling close. My luck was officially gone.

“I told you to move. No one said to get in our way.” San walked over to the beast, pulling out an arrow from its back. I huffed, beyond pissed at him. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be out here,” Yeosang came up, offering me a rag. I took it, turning and walking away from them. I couldn't stay here with them much longer. Between San and the information Seonghwa told me I was so emotionally tired. I missed my life back home and unless I figured out a plan to get back I would be stuck here. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. I wiped my face, the wind picking up and causing me to cry harder. 

“It's always fucking raining on this island,” I sobbed, falling to my knees. The rag, loosely held in my hands flew away, falling against a gathering of rocks. Great. I wiped my eyes, standing up and walking over to them. I bent down to reach for the rag, my eyes catching on a piece of paper jammed between two of the rocks, fluttering in the wind. My eyebrows scrunched together, grabbing the paper carefully so it would not rip.

Playing with the enemy is not why you are here Wendy.

I turned the note over, looking for some sort of clue of its sender. There was nothing other than the small writing on the front, making me question whether this was a prank. Maybe it was and this was just a meaningless piece of paper. I went to toss it, before catching the black ink scrawled on the back. “Huh? I swear this was blank.”

They are hiding something from you.

I wiped the font, smearing the fresh ink against my fingertip. I gasped, dropping the paper as I stared at my fingers. My head whipped around checking for signs of anyone, scanning the bushes in the distance. I scrambled to my feet, running back to the only place I knew. 

*

The stench of sulfur stung my nose as I pounded on the front door. The sun was beginning to set, eliminating most of the light within the cave. My heart was pounding in my ears and I prayed that the door would open. 

“Y/N!” Hongjoong opened the door, hurrying me inside. “What’s wrong, did something happen?”

I looked around, trying to even my erratic breathing. “I-“

They are hiding something from you.

“I thought someone was following me.” I let out a nervous breath, “but it turns out it was just a bird.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t believe me. I wouldn’t either honestly, but I needed a moment alone to process everything.

“Yeah, I think I’m just paranoid after today.”

“It’s been a long day. Here I'll show you to the guest room.” He led the way up the stairs to the room at the end of the second floor. “Just let me know if you need anything, my room is right next door.”

I nodded, quickly entering the room and locking the door behind me. I needed to figure out what was happening and fast. Everything that has happened today and how the guys have treated me was all that I could think about. I didn’t know that much about them, making it harder to not be suspicious.

Playing with the enemy. Were they the enemy? I didn't find it hard to believe after how I saw them act today, especially San. 

But they were the enemy of who? And how was I supposed to trust this person when I couldn’t even trust the people I was currently living with?

I needed time alone from everyone and everything that would hinder me from forming a plan to escape this island. I was not certain I was safe here, for now choosing to leave this house. It would inconvenience me greatly but I couldn’t risk staying here with a group that was harboring a dark secret and unwilling to share the truth.

I waited for in my room for hours, until the house became silent. I opened my door, checking the hall before trying to walk down the stairs quietly. The lights were off, save for a dimly-lit lamp by the door, cloaking me as I tiptoed through the house. Hopefully, the boys wouldn’t care and I could leave quickly without having to outrun them. As I made my way to the front door, I noticed there was just a simple lock, making my escape that much easier.

I slowly turned the bolt, reaching for the handle when two knives landed an inch from both my hand and head. I screamed, turning around to face all eight boys staring at me coldly.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

[thatshxtagain]

Kindness Is Always Warm and Dry (Nightlight one shot)

Here's a oneshot of MISFIT Ruby x FREAKS Matilda for the people in the NERDS Discord!! Hope you enjoy!

The thunder that roared in the heavily overcast skies made Matilda yelp, pulling her hood further onto her head. Rain pelted her fleece hoodie, soaking into her clothes and clinging onto her skin as she wobbles to her feet, nearly slipping on the puddles already forming underneath her. Thankfully, she doesn't feel any scrapes or bruises from that fall. She takes a look back, barely able to make out the doors of the warehouse through the dense rain, but knowing fully well that she wasn't getting in anytime soon. Not with those stupid goons that kicked her out - 'past working hours', they claimed. 'Past working hours' her ass, they just wanted to have the facility to themselves.

Matilda almost had no time to react when she saw the rapidly approaching headlights from the side, barely able to jump out of the way in the nick of time. She splashed into another puddle, nearly teetering off balance as the car speeds past her, splashing into the puddle she was previously in and spraying her from behind. The tiny girl shudders, jumping away to examine herself before shortly groaning. If Mat wasn't completely drenched in water before, she certainly was now. She stares down at the street through the heavy precipitation - there’s no way she’s going to make it to Heathcliff’s house through this downpour. With a clammy hand, she reaches into her hoodie pocket, carefully taking out a small, round object the size of a yo-yo, several glowing green numbers flashing rather brightly on the front despite the water droplets already splattering on the screen, and smack on the top was a blue button. Matilda knew this object well - it was one of MISFIT’s teleportation devices to other universes, the numbers being coordinates to send her to Dimension 1. Specifically, Ruby 1’s room. Matilda stared at the device for a few seconds, hesitating, before finally pressing the blue button.

Her room is exactly like she remembers - cream colored walls lined with bookshelves, a few bean bag chairs littered around a table with a tv, a fluffy grey carpet smack in the center of both, a smooth marble desk in the corner stacked with an ungodly amount of paperwork that not even her own Ruby would be able to handle, and a queen sized bed with a tiny dresser right beside it. Ruby 1 had been reading a book in one of the beanbag chairs when Matilda popped in, and when she did notice her, her eyebrows shot upward, eyes widening behind her square framed glasses as she takes in Matilda’s appearance. Mat can only imagine how she must look in the other girl’s eyes - she must be a pathetic sight, already shivering from the sudden blast of the AC. Her shoes squish on the polished wood of the floor, and she suddenly feels bad that her sopping state is beginning to ruin the floor.

The petite girl only had a chance to blink before Ruby began scrambling off the beanbag chair, darting to her closet and frantically taking out a large towel, already beginning to bundle the girl with a perfectly worried expression. “Matilda, what happened to you?! You look absolutely soaked!!!” She fussed, her voice dripping in concern as she begins to dry her off despite her state. "I-I got kicked out in the rain," Matilda stuttered, startled with the other girl's sudden behavior. How could she be so caring to her so quickly? As far as she knew, she was only an 'alternate' to her. Before she knew it, clothes are being shoved into her hands and she’s ushered to the bathroom to change. Mat is quick to undress - she was practically freezing in her own clothes - and starts to properly dry herself off. She leaves the towel ruffled in her hair before picking up the clothes Ruby provided her - a grey and yellow sweater with a tiny front pocket, brown shorts, and a pair of ankle-high white socks - and tugs them on. It was no doubt that they were ridiculously huge on her, the sweater kept shrugging past her shoulders every chance it gets, the socks sinking ever so slightly down her ankles, and the shorts didn’t  even try to fit, immediately flopping to the floor the moment she tried to put them on. She frowns at this, pulling the shorts back up and trying to tie the sides. No luck, they immediately fell back down with every attempt. She sighs, kicking the shorts to the side of the bathroom. At least two out of the three articles of clothing could somewhat fit her. Mat tries to adjust the sweater one last time, holding it up one shoulder as it sagged off the other, and with a huff she exits the bathroom. 

“Ummm...the shorts couldn’t fit…” Matilda mumbles, shifting awkwardly the moment Ruby laid eyes on her. She wishes the stupid sweater could stop sagging for one damn minute - she swore Ruby must’ve been holding back a laugh, since she did have a hand over her face when she saw her come out. Matilda kept her eyes glued to the floor, feeling uncomfortable the longer the other girl stared. Finally, the blonde clears her throat, straightening slightly. “M-My bad. I forgot my clothes were much bigger than you. Sorry about that.” She responds with an apologetic look. “I think I have an old skirt that may be your size though!” She offers. Mat wrinkles her nose, immediately shaking her head. “No thanks - not exactly a fan of skirts.”

Ruby frowns at this. “Are you sure? Your legs must be cold right now - I can’t imagine how frigid they’ll get if you leave them like that.”

Well. Now that she mentions it, they were getting pretty chilly. Mat had to literally rub her knees together to keep them from numbing. Her lips pursed into a thin line, and she reluctantly nods. “I guess I could try.” She says sheepishly, pulling the sweater up her shoulder once more.

The taller female smiles, nodding slightly before heading to her closet. She rummages through her clothes for a while, then finally pulls out a short white skirt that Matilda honestly doubts would actually warm her in the slightest - but, beggars can’t be choosers. Ruby hands her the skirt, and she goes back to the bathroom to put it on. It surprisingly fit - almost a little too well, staying securely on her small waist without being too tight. She stuffs the burlap of a sweater into the skirt, attempting at a tuck-in but failing miserably. Was the sweater supposed to sag underneath the skirt? She guessed not. She tugs the sweater out a little, keeping a bit of the edges still tucking inside while the rest flopped out. She looked absolutely ridiculous from the reflection of the bathroom mirror, reminding herself of a spoiled toddler - if it weren’t for her wet, unkempt hair that still had a few droplets of water dripping from the tips. She dries her unruly hair with the towel one final time before setting it beside the sink, exiting the bathroom.

 She couldn’t help but feel even more uncomfortable with the skirt once Ruby’s attention was back on her, and the staring definitely felt longer then before, except her eyes were glued on the stupid white article of clothing. Her hand flew to her face again, and Matilda felt herself flush in embarrassment, fiddling with the hem of the baggy sleeves. “W-well...i-it fits..” she said meekly, somehow feeling more exposed then before, shivering slightly at the faint air that passed into the skirt. Sadly, it wasn’t the type with any sort of inside shorts.

“A-Are you laughing at me?” Matilda asks suddenly, what with all the staring and mouth covering. "NO!" Ruby responded almost immediately, making Matilda jump slightly as she waved her arms in a frantic manner. "No no no. You look great! You look pretty gir-pretty great!" She floundered, and the moment she exposed her face Mat noticed the deep blush beginning to form on the other girl. This causes her to blush brighter, squirming slightly at the compliment. For a moment, she almost thought she was about to say ‘pretty girl’. “A-Am I wearing it right?” She asks anxiously, peering down at the skirt a little. “Th-There weren’t any tags…”

“Yes! Yes, of course!” Ruby spluttered out, nodding instantly. “I-It looks amazing, and you’re wearing it absolutely perfect!”

This stirs yet another flush from the smaller girl, and she stiffly nods, hiding her face in her hands in embarrassment. Ruby blinks, making a small chuckle at this before walking over and wrapping Matilda in what she assumes to be another towel until she feels a strange warmth that seemed to be emitting from inside it. “Heater blanket,” Ruby explains, bundling the girl tightly and guiding her to one of the beanbags. “I’m going to get us dinner, okay? Then I’ll put on a nice movie before we retire for the night. Get comfy.” She informs with a smile, and the tiny girl made another nod, wringing the heater blanket closer around herself as she pulls her legs to her chest.

Ruby wasn’t gone for too long, but it was enough time for Mat to lift the collar of the sweater to her nose, sniffing it curiously. It smelled like warm pastries and lavender, a combination that reminded Mat of a luxury spa that was definitely way over something Molly could afford - but somehow always managed to. The lavender scent made her relax ever so slightly, and the pastry smell made her stomach churn. Both scents mixed together helped her unwind on the bean bag chair, leaning further back and closing her eyes for a few minutes. She doesn’t open them until she hears the door open, and sees Ruby carrying two trays of food. She joins Ruby on the carpet as she places the trays in front of them, then walking over to the tv table to get out the movies. They ended up choosing some sort of action movie, one with so many cringey moments that Mat could barely pay attention to it without rolling her eyes every so often as she ate. The food wasn’t bad - it was just some mashed potatoes, peas, and a few chicken slabs, but really, any food was heaven to the tiny girl, and she thanks Ruby during the first half of the movie.

When she finished, Mat didn’t notice she had unconsciously started leaning on the other girl. It wasn’t until Ruby turned to look over at her did she realize what she’d been doing. “Tired?” The blonde asked with an amused brow. Matilda huffs, shaking her head. “I’m just cold, that’s all.” She responds, which wasn’t exactly half lying - her legs were still chilly from the lack of clothing she wore. Ruby tilts her head at this, but smiles. She reaches over, and before she could say anything she pulls the smaller girl in between her legs, proceeding to envelop her entire body around her. Matilda froze, turning to stare at the taller female incredulously, who only gave a friendly smile in return, cuddling her even more. A pink blush dusts her face, and the Korean places her hands on top of her arms, turning back to the movie. She...she couldn’t explain it, but for some reason she felt at ease in Ruby’s arms, all her troubles somehow fading from her mind as she focuses only on the movie, and how comfortable Ruby’s chest feels, and how it was so easy to relax in her warm embrace. It got more and more difficult for her to stay awake with how much she was completely basking in the other girl’s cozy hug, blinking off quite often during the movie. The credits scene is the last thing Matilda sees before she dozes off, and the faint smell of pastries and lavender suddenly much stronger - especially when she curled further into Ruby’s arms, now knowing where the scent had been coming from - Ruby’s jacket, the scent wafting into her nose as her head nuzzles into the soft material, being the final nudge before she drifts into slumber.

Matilda wakes up in Ruby’s bed the next day, still incredibly soft and the familiar pastry-lavender scent stronger than ever that Mat almost fell back asleep. She notices Ruby still snoozing soundly in her sleeping bag, and the smallest of smiles crosses her face. She got up as quietly as possible, reaching for the teleportation device left on the nightstand, about to press the button to return home before remembering something. Opening the drawer, she pulls out a pad of sticky notes and a pen, writing down a short message and sticking it on the lamp. She gives Ruby one final look before pressing the button, teleporting back to her universe.

An hour later, Ruby wakes up to an empty bed and a sticky note on her lamp. 

‘Thanks for letting me stay over. 

P.S. I took one of your pillows.

-Mat’

[lunaschild2016]

[Redux] Worth Fighting For: Chapter 22 - Eyes On Fire

A/N: Here’s a short one to tease you beauties. Hopefully, the word count won't be bounced here.

@kenzieam  @pathyborba  @jaihardy @every-jai@ericdauntless@beautifulramblingbrains@bookgirlthings@jojuarez26@oddsnendsfanfics@offroadinjandals@singingpeople@iammarylastar@irasancti@captstefanbrandt@clublulu333@fuckthatfeeling@tigpooh67@ex-bookjunkybookjunky  @jughead-wuz-here wuz-here @badassbaker@beanzjellly@beltz2016@meganbee15@affabletimelady@scorpio2009@gylisaa@geekybeyondallreason @violetsonthelam@kyloswarstars@emmysrandomthoughts@kgurew@beltzboys2015-blog @slytherin-princess-25273@whatwouldbuffydo666@jaiboomer11@holamor@wealwayskeepfighting@original46@blakefc@xtheserpentx@artisthedgehog@elaacreditava@slytherlesbian

Chapter 21 - Eyes On Fire

Kat

I sat on the tiled bench that's built into the shower enclosure far longer than I really needed to. After playing with that damn digital controller I found a steam setting and sat down in shock while enjoying it at the same time. Indulging in the privacy of the shower plus all the neat little settings and using the bath products, that I've missed but haven't wanted to spend precious points on, is all well and fine. But that's not what I'm really doing here, at least it's not all that I'm doing.

I'm stalling and I know it.

My main concern right now is trying to find a reason to give Eric regarding the medications he wants to give that will sound reasonable and not end up tipping him over the edge he seems to be teetering on. The problem I'm running into is there is no good reason for it. Part of it's being stubborn while the other part is my own messed up rationalization. Neither of those are going to go over well with any of those guys right now.

I sigh and shut off the water finally resolving that at least I'm going to stand firm on any pain killers. At least with that I know I have a valid reason and one that Eric will understand and even if he doesn't, he can be mad about it all he wants but I'm not willing to give in on this point.

With that addressed in my mind, I start to dry off and get dressed. I just don't do it as fast as I know I can. I take my time with every stage.

First putting up my hair in a secure braid then moving on to using the various products that Zach included along with the bath stuff. While I don't hesitate to use the moisturizers and lotions, I don't even contemplate using the small amount of makeup he seems to have added to the mix as well.

I sigh in pleasure as I smooth lotion over my skin in all the areas that have felt irritated the most by the other stuff I bought. The relief it brings drives out any guilt I might have felt about Zach going to the trouble of replacing all the things I've been stubbornly refusing to stop using.

Honeysuckle and citrus drift on the air as I move on to getting dressed. That part doesn't take me long at all to do. The clothes are just basic black pants and a long-sleeved shirt. They're no different than the standard pieces for a Dauntless informal uniform and aren't far from what I know I have already.

What has me blushing while getting dressed is the undergarments that they included. Even that is no different than something I already have, a sports bra and boy shorts. It isn't so much the clothes themselves but the thought of anyone besides myself picking out my underwear. Let alone Eric, Chase, and Zach.

Especially Eric.

By the time I'm as dressed as I can be before I have to call for Eric, I've sufficiently worked up a total body blush by imagining him picking out and touching my clothes. I stand and stare at my reflection in the mirror and wince at what I see.

I've never dwelt long on the fact that I haven't been allowed to have any kind of say about how I look or what I wear. I've never really wondered about myself and if I'm plain, pretty, ugly or anything of that nature. That's not to say that I haven't heard all kinds of descriptions yelled at me over the years, and none of them very good, I just learned to disregard them. It didn't matter to me if anyone thought I was attractive or not, I had much bigger things to worry about and that's all I've let myself think about.

Before the incident with the factionless, I was so young the only thing I cared about was running and playing, to be free to do that and everything else my sister and I longed to do. After the incident, it felt like the end of my childhood. After that, all I could, or allowed myself, to think about was becoming as strong as I could to protect those I loved and to make up for all I did wrong.

Even when Tobias had shown his supposed interest in me when I was in my early teens I hadn't given more than a passing thought to why he would have any in me. Honestly, I've always been convinced that had been more about him thinking he should be with me for some reason rather than actually wanting to be.

I let my hand fall from my face and where I had been gently probing the puffy mess of my eye and sigh tiredly when I think of Tobias. Because that just brings up more worries than I'm capable of juggling right now. I know I'm going to have to face the situation with him, as well as his secret relationship with my sister, soon. Just not now.

My biggest worry right now is the young woman in the mirror and the only man I've ever wanted to notice me and see me. There must be something here in me if he's going to the trouble he has for me. I don't think it will ever be what I want him to see or feel. Not when I look at my reflection and know that I can never measure up to the women I'm sure he could have in a second if he wanted to.

Maybe there's something to the whole Abnegation shunning of mirrors because never have I been as self-conscious as I am now that I have such unrestricted access to one. Where even now, two weeks later, I can't help looking into one and immediately finding everything wrong about myself.

Especially when most of the time there is someone standing beside me to compare myself to, which is usually my sister. Then again, I always compare myself to her in most ways.

My hair is a lighter shade of blonde than hers. It darkens a bit if I'm out of the sun for long periods of time, but not by much. I've always considered it to be kind of dull and flat compared to hers with its mixes of blonde, brown and a tiny bit of red in certain lights. They are all mixed together in a way that can be really stunning when she leaves it down. Mine is more blonde with very little other colors, but the more I'm in the sun, the more it looks like dried out bleached wheat. I've always been envious of her shimmering locks.

We have the same general shape to our faces, enough that when combined with our close age and physical stature, people often confuse us for being twins. But it's those differences that stand out so much to me.

My nose is slightly shorter and turned up at the end, making it look cute rather than the strong one she has that looks like it would be at home on any Grecian statue.

My mouth has a bow shape with annoyingly pouty lips that make me look like I'm always throwing a tantrum of some kind.

My eyes are a little too big making my overall appearance even more childlike.

Combine all that with my short and petite frame, I could be mistaken for a pre-teen boy if I didn't wear clothes that show off the few feminine features I do have, my hips and ass. That I have plenty of. It's what Lynn likes to jokingly refer to as the junk in my trunk. Whatever you call it, it's still not enough by half to compete with the women I saw eyeing Eric that first night in the Pit.

Those are women with a capital W. With their figures encased in skin-tight clothing of varying lengths and coverage, ample cleavage, perfectly groomed and made up. All that on top of knowing exactly how to tempt and seduce in ways that I don't have the first clue about.

I shake my head when I have ridiculous flashes, imaging me made up and dressed like one of them and making a complete fool of myself. Pointing out to me that even if I knew how to do any of that I would still fall far from measuring up.

I look away from the mirror in disgust, finally finished with my reflections, and looking at my sad reflection. I force myself to turn and finish dressing until I have everything on but the shirt. I open the door and take a breath before I call out Eric's name then immediately wish I had taken just a few seconds more when nerves hit me full force.

I don't want him to see how ill at ease I'm feeling. Not after earlier. I want him to know I trust him completely. It's myself I don't trust but it's not like I can tell him that. Standing here shifting around nervously isn't going to exactly look like I trust him very much. I cast a look around and then decide it might be better to look as casual as I can.

I move over to the bathroom counter and shift until I can lift myself up onto it, wincing as my ribs take pressure it's not ready for and scooting back until I'm sitting, in what I hope is a casual manner. Hoping that I pull it off even if I'm in nothing but my sports bra, pants, and boots.

I laugh quietly at myself and shake my head then look at my hands when I hear his steps as he approaches after the door to his bedroom creaks open. My hands fidget together hoping to mask their shaking.

"Did you leave any hot wat…" Eric asks, laughing slightly as he came in the doorframe, but he stops in mid-sentence when he gets one step over the threshold.

I only know he's there and that he's stopped moving because I can see his feet from where my eyes were still glued to my hands. I refused to look up and even more now that whatever he's seeing is enough to freeze him in his tracks. I feel mild panic that I've done something wrong, and my brain races as it plays over his instructions. I know I followed them exactly so I'm not sure what's going on. I refuse to look up still but I can't stand just sitting here not knowing either.

"Did I leave any hot water?" I grasp at the playful question and decide to roll with it, hoping I can make my tone light as well. I shrug and smirk a little when I realize how truthful my answer is. "I might have left a tiny amount."

He clears his throat and steps forward. His boots thumping loudly on the tiled floor and the sound echoing back to us. I hear that thudding and hope that's really from his steps and not my heart. The sound of it is loud and fast in my ears, three beats for each pause between his steps. His intake of breath brings to my attention that my own is at least two times faster. Giving the illusion that he's barely breathing while I can't get enough.

One of his large, warm, and wonderfully calloused hands takes both of my clasped hands in his, while the other he raises until it slides gently along my jaw for the second time this morning. He tilts my head back so that our eyes finally meet as his thumb stroked my cheek softly.

There's danger in his eyes anytime I look at them. I never know what I'm going to find and how I'm going to react. Right now there is a clear worry in his eyes, along with something else that's not so clear. Whatever it is, it's just as intense as anything else he allows to broadcast. They seem to be darker right now as his brows lower more, casting shadows over them.

Eric's tugs his lower lip between his teeth quickly before releasing it and breath at the same time. "Are you okay, Kat?"

I nod and smile a little. "The shower helped, though I do still hurt a little."

The side of his mouth quirks up in a side smile as he shakes his head. "That's not what I was meaning…Kat." He pauses for the barest of seconds before he says my name, making me think he might have been about to say something else. The smile is gone and he frowns while holding my eyes. "Are you okay being here like this...with me?"

I swallow hard while thinking that I'm very much not okay being with him like this but not for any of the reasons he's worried about. At least I can answer that worry of his truthfully though.

"I said I trust you and I do, Eric," I answer softly with what I hope is a reassuring smile.

He sighs deeply. It might be one of relief. It might be of frustration. It might even be disappointment. They all sound so similar and the only thing that would let me know how he's feeling would be his expression or eyes, but those are back to being carefully guarded.

I feel like he's searching mine for something just as much as I am him until he breaks contact and they move over my face slowly. His expression slowly loses its blankness as a tightness I'm familiar with morphs it.

Despite the anger I can see and feel in him as he looks over my injuries, his touch is maddeningly gentle. It's so light and gentle that I struggle to keep my breathing normal while he moves his hands and eyes over me, evaluating the damage for himself for the first time. I close my eyes and will away the thoughts his touch is bringing to mind.

In my mind, Eric isn't looking at me with a methodical but otherwise passionless eye. In my mind, the soft brush of his fingers is anything but a clinical evaluation. My mind is in serious danger of making me make a complete ass of myself as I can barely contain the whimpers that his touch and those images are causing in me.

I keep my eyes closed tightly and scowl every time one of those soft whimpers escape me.

"Tell me if you want or need me to stop, Kat," Eric demands tightly.

A shiver that I can't stop completely escapes at the sound of him speaking in that deep and rough tone. I know it's caused by him trying to keep in the anger he's probably feeling after he comes to each bruise I have. I can't speak properly to reply, so I just gave a nod of my head instead.

"Answer me, Kat." This new demand has me holding my eyes closed even tighter.

A bolt of something strong rushes through me when his fingers graze over an area that seems to be sensitive in a way I could never have imagined it being. The deep rumble of his voice seems to connect straight to that sensation so that they combine and have what I know is desire pooling in me.

He can't know that his touch is creating a whirlpool of desire inside of me and if I don't answer soon, he's going to stop and I don't want that. As much as I should say something to make him stop, I just can't.

"Yes, I will, Eric. I'm okay though." I slightly gasp out the words while not once opening my eyes to see what his expression and eyes might hold. "Don't...I...please...I mean you don't have to stop."

I cringe and internally curse myself when I realize that all came out as me practically begging him not to stop. I even moaned a little when his hands started moving in ways and over areas I'm not prepared for.

What started out as the faint press of his fingertips along the ribs that were hurt as well as the other side, turned into the full length of his hand sliding over my skin. Near my hips, it slid against the bare skin there, a whisper of the heat from his skin against the goosebumped flesh of mine at the waist. Then his fingers made a slow, almost dancing, progression up until he was caressing each rib causing my head to fall back and the moan to escape.

I don't dare to open my eyes now as his hands stop completely. Tears burned behind my eyes making them feel like they are on fire right along with my body as I flush in embarrassment and shame.

I know any second he's going to jerk his hands away from me and step back to address the situation. I don't know how he's going to handle it but knowing how badly I've just messed up he might just say it's better that we have no contact if I can't keep my hormones in check.

That's what I expect to happen but it's not what he does. Instead of pulling away and getting far from me, he gets even closer. Stepping forward until I'm forced to open my legs a little to accommodate his body, my knees brushing his hips as he moves. His hands start moving again. Going from my sides to my arms, up until they travel across my shoulders then even further still as they go along the sides of my neck and only finally stopping when they are on either side of my face. There he stops and cups my head gently in his grasp.

"Kat, look at me," He orders me gruffly.

I want to refuse since I'm still horrified and ashamed at my reaction to him simply trying to take care of me. I almost refuse until I hear his breathing and how fast it is, how hard it's coming out and gusting against my skin.

My eyes pop open against every order I give them to remain closed so I can find out what could be causing Eric to be breathing like that. I almost wish I hadn't and that my body obeyed my order, not his because what I see just can't be real. It can't be real that his eyes are full of the same desire I have coursing through me.

I feel drugged as I drag my eyes away from his to search for anything else that might tell me what the hell is going on, only to see his lips tilted up at the edges in what could only be described as a smug manner.

Then his face starts moving closer to mine and any rational thought fled my mind except one thing. One thought and wish.

Please, oh please, let him be about to kiss me.

[trashpandaorigins]

The Body Keeps the Score Ch. 6 The Wrong Shot

"You said it yourself bitch, we're the Guardians of the Galaxy." Gamora is finally a part of something. But the past always follows you, eats at you and she must come to grips with her deeds as she tries to build a future. Meanwhile Rocket has never cared much for anyone or anything. Together the two of them discover they are more alike than different and try to heal themselves by befriending the other.

*Content Warnings: Mentions of child/animal abuse, trauma, character death, physical torture/pain*

Title of this fic is taken from the book of the same title "The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma," by Bessel van der Kolk

You and I both are nothing but thieves

We take what we want when we need

I had a chance for a better life

But all that I've known is to

Run, run, run, from a devil in disguise

Like a bullet, a bullet, a bullet into the night

Bullet  - Steel Train

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck! Rocket cursed rolling backward across the crowded workshop, hissing as the cybernetic panel in his back slammed into the unforgiving wall. Colors swam for a moment before his vision. The raccoonoid blinked several times, waiting for cybernetics in his optic nerves to recalibrate. He flicked his fingers, good still in tact.  

I’m gonna shoot that flarking humie, he thought begrudgingly, standing up and stalking out of the work room.

“Quill! What the hell kinda jump was that?! You’re gonna wreck my ship!” Rocket scurried to the engine room.

“Um it’s my ship,” the human stepped out into the main hall, one hand clutching his stomach. “And I didn’t do anything!”

“Then who the hell is piloting this thing?” Rocket pushed passed the human with a grunt into the cock-pit.  He halted in the door, an orange glow bathed the interior of the ship with hazy iridescence. Three large green asteroid rings encircled the planet. Kilvore.

“Gamora!” Drax boomed, stomping in behind Quill. “You are quite the pilot! You should be flying this ship!” Rocket suppressed a growl,

“Groot!”

The little sapling made a playful cooing noise from his place in the co-pilot seat. Rocket rushed over to him and growled at the right of the miniature flora, who, despite his seat belt had tumbled from his pot. Dirt scattered about the seat.

“What did you do?!” The raccoonoid growled, furiously packing the soil back around Groot’s base. Gamora bristled with the accusation.

“I didn’t do anything,” she keyed in the codes to approach landing.  “I strapped him in, he’s alright.”

Evidently Groot wiggled his arms as the raccoonoid hoisted him up on his hip-reaching to try and play with the straps of Rocket’s jumpsuit.

“He could’a been hurt!”  

“If he never get’s hurt he’s never going to learn how to protect himself,” she countered.

“Is that what daddy Thanos taught yah?”  He snapped, baring his teeth at the woman. He looked up at Gamora, a nerve pulsing in her forehead. Something snapped. Gamora stuck her arm out, instantly for the raccoonoid’s neck. Rocket panicked as his feet were whisked off the ground. Groot tumbled from his hold. Drax dove with surprising agility, catching the little flora who only giggled and wiggled in his pot. Rocket growled, claws digging into Gamora’s wrist,

“Oh yeah,” he snarled,  with a cruel grin. “There she is, there’s the daughter of Thanos!” Her fingers tightened around the scruff of his neck, hardly flinching even as he kicked and scratched, trying to reach for the gun in his belt.

“I’d  rip out your spine rodent, if you had one.”

“W...what the hell Gamora?!” Rocket wheezed out, trying to twist his neck out of her grip.

“I am not a daughter of Thanos,” she whispered dangerously.

“Yeah, you’re really proving me wrong. You flarking…”

“I could snap your neck,” she threatened, “it would be easy.”

Rocket focused his roving eyes  towards Groot’s plaintive wail.

“You can run all you want,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “But you can’t run from what he made you.”

“C’mon guys,” Peter whined, “I thought we were passed the point of killing each other!”

“At least I ain’t a hypocrite” he couldn't  stop himself. The humiliation of being held like some dangling thing, the escalation of Groot’s terrified cries. “Your no better than him.”  His tail thrashed madly, bite...bite her! Get away!

“Gamora,” Quill stepped forward tentatively, “let him go.”

Rocket swallowed down the animalistic yelp that nearly escaped him as Gamora dropped him to the floor. He glared up at her, trying to massage the throbbing in his neck.

“Like father like daughter,’ he wheezed, black nostrils flaring to catch his breath.

“Hey!” Quill snapped, pointing at him like some petulant child. Groot tried to inch his pot forward little arms reaching out for him, sap leaking from his eyes.

“I’m going after Nebula,” Gamora barked stalking from the room.

“Wait! Gamora!” Quill spared a disappointed glance at Rocket and darted out of the cockpit as the Benatar shook, locking into the dock on the main port of Yreka’a Kilvore’s largest city.

“Mmm, mmm Grrr!” Groot’s little face screwed up as he cried. Drax knelt down placing Groot’s pot in front of him. Rocket reached out to him, little wooden fingers grasping around his claws in earnest.

Groot teetered forward closer, burying his little head in the nape of the raccoonoid’s neck.

No! Don’t touch….

He jerked backward, still panting. Claws clenched against the metal floor. He stopped himself from the snarl forming in his throat.

“Small friend, are you alright?”

“I’ve had worse,” Rocket coughed, remaining on all fours. Groot tried to borrow against him, thin fingers wringing through his fur. “Watch it,” he spat, pushing the small flora away as one of the little hands hit against the metal bolts in his clavicle. “It’s not like either of you did anything to help,” his red gaze slid between the Destroyer and his miniature best friend. “You might be tiny but you could’ve at least tried to stop her!” He glowered at Groot who only pouted and reached for him. “Could’ve said something even if you couldn’t fight her.” He envisioned Groot’s  protective stance between himself and Drax back in that bar in Knowhere.

“You must not anger our assassin friend, she will kill you for what you’ve said.”

“Tsch, I’d like to see her try. Damn sadist.” Rocket checked the gun at his belt, and gripped the handle of it for reassurance, turning from the two of them.

“Where are you going?” Drax’s concern echoed down the hall as the raccoonoid stalked back towards his workroom. The heavy door slammed behind him with a satisfying clang. He snatched up the data pad, furiously pounding the keys.

“This is Sub…..Subject...8...8913, I have an update.”

The screen blipped and went fuzzy for a moment before a Nova agent’s face appeared on the screen, helmet obscuring her features.

“Subject, what is your…”

“Its Gamora,” he seethed. “She’s taken our ship to Kilvore, tryn’ to go after her maniac sister Nebula.”

“Has she threatened you or your crew?”

“She threatened me,” he snarled with contempt. I’d rip out your spine, rodent. Rocket hung up before the agent could continue.

“Animal friend, open this door!” Drax’s fists banged against the door, Groot’s whine sounded through the metal. Rocket snatched up his pistols and a few more rounds before opening the door again.

“Where are you going?”

“After Quill and Gamora.”

“What about Groot? He cannot go into battle.”

Rocket spun on his heel, glaring.

“Then you stay back with him.”

Without waiting he sprinted down the gangway, into the crowded sea of aliens bustling about Yreka’a.

---

Rocket darted through the crowds with relative ease, used to navigating the world of larger people. He kept one hand at his holster as he scanned for any sign of Quill or Gamora. Not that he wanted to see her. Not that he wanted them to see him. Not after being hoisted up by the scruff  like a misbehaving dog. The hair on his neck rose at the memory of it. Cold merciless metal clamped around him, cords that electrocuted him when he resisted. The gloved grasp around his neck. One hand restrained him, the other held a scalpel or a needle or some other device. The raccoonoid halted in his tracks, the legs and knees of the crowd becoming blurry in shadows. His vision tunneled and he shook his head, rubbing his paws across his snout.

“Small angry companion! Wait!”

Rocket sniffed once more, through the ochre of cooking food and thick smoke. The sweat and liquor. He sniffed again, arching his head upward through the throngs of bodies, rounding a corner and down another thoroughfare. Music pumped from a nearby club, merchants shouted their wares in dozens of languages.

Too many smells, still the lingering old too much axe flitted on his nose. He could tell Quill’s scent anywhere.

“This way, hurry up baldy.”

“Mmmgggrrrt!”

“I ain’t waitin’!”  

He darted between the long purple tentacles of a Ktavian, sniffing for any whiff of either Quill or Gamora.

“Watch it vermin!”

Rocket growled, one paw tightening around his pistol but he kept it in check,  it ain’t worth it.

“Quill! Quill!” The raccoonoid scrambled down another series of streets, pausing only to ensure that Drax and Groot hadn’t fallen too far behind.

Flarking...bipeds, he cursed almost tempted to cover more ground on four legs.

“Quill, damn it wa…”

Something flashed in the monotone sea of grays and muddled browns.

Shit that can’t be… Rocket sniffed, it was.  Nebula was here, he scrambled up a nearby market stall, onto the roof, keen eyes scanning through the crowd. There she was...moving in the opposite direction of Quill and Gamora.  She moved with complete economy, head down glancing around suspiciously at anyone who dared come close.

“Furry one! Why are you all the way,”

“Shut up!"

Rocket hissed, reaching for the gun at his belt and looked through the scope, tracing the women's movements as she weaved out of the main streets, back towards the ship docks. His grip fixed around the gun, pulling the trigger back. One shot, that’s all it’d take.  Nebula flagged down one of the Rskeven workers. Paying him handsomely by the grin he spurted.  Rocket adjusted his grip, it’d be an easy shot, right in the back of the noggin and that cyborg’d be done for good. He sucked a breath in sharply through his nose, watching her walk up to a crummy little Xandarian transport vessel. Must’ve stolen it after the battle.  He squeezed the trigger, back as hard it would go 3…..2… flark it! Rocket hit the safety mechanism, let go of the trigger heard the empty click.

“Rocket! What are you doing up there?!”

Out of his periphery the Xandarian ship sputtered to life. Quickly he reached into his belt, loading his gun with the tracking device.

“Rocket!”

Something hit against his ear. Instinctively his swiveled towards it, his finger slipping. A bang. He recovered in time to watch the projectile launch through the air at the body of the ship as it took off. He watched it hit against the left wing, through the dust and exhaust, only to teeter and slip, falling to the ground in the wake of the ship taking off. Through the haze, a miniature head in the cockpit, Nebula’s eyes fixated on the atmosphere above.

Fuck, the ship took off, vaulting through the sky and out of sight to join all the other transports coming and going, lost among them. Rocket shook his head, thrusting the gun back into its holster.

“Who through that?”

“Rocket,”

Quil, Drax, Groot and Gamora stood below, gazing up at him with expressions ranging from confusion, (Drax and Quill), to irritation, (Gamora).

The raccoonoid huffed, ears twitching and made his way back down, making sure not to look at the green assassin.

“What gives man? We saw Drax and Groot and assumed you were with them. Quill planted his hands on his hips like a scolding parent.

“I saw Nebula.”

“Really?” Gamora’s skepticism grated against his last nerve. “Where?”

“She was taking off in a stolen Xandarian transport. I was tryin’ to shoot her but Star-Turd threw off my aim.”

Gamora shifted her displeasure to the human man, only for an instant.

“Did you shoot to kill?”

Rocket smirked, kicking a rock with his boot.

“Nah Gams I didn’t shoot to kill. I was tryn’ to put a tracking device on it.”

---

Rocket was three sheets to the wind when he heard the knock on the workroom door. Trying to drown the humiliation of being shaken like a misbehaving vermin in front of others, trying to drown the feel of Gamora’s hand around his scruff. They’d regrouped on the ship and he worked out the calculations to approximate Nebula’s trajectory. Towards the Keystone Quadrant. Rocket thought, lifting another can of Uzbellian beer to his muzzle. He never imagined he’d be back in the same Quadrant as ...that place. But Quill, Gamora and Drax has insisted they follow despite his protests; and he sure as shit wasn’t about to divulge his tragic backstory to them like a sucker.

No, he’d hunker down and bare it, he wouldn’t let Groot out of his sight. He’d stay on the ship, claim to be doing repairs. He’d pack more weapons on him, well, more than usual. His mind spun into strategy mode. How large was the Keystone Quadrant? Where was Halfworld in relation to their current flight path? What if Nebula was going to that very planet? No there was no reason to go there. She wouldn’t. SHE WOULDN”T. But if she did….how many bombs had he made? How much ammo? How could he….

“Rocket?”

Gamora. He could tell by her scent and the sound of her footfalls.

Great, the last person he wanted to see.

“What?”

He snarled, finishing off the beer and throwing the can to the ground. She stepped in gracefully, looking around the crowded room of half-formed weapons and gadgets.

“Immm grrrrrot!”

Groot waved to her happily as she came closer.

“Rocket,” the word was heavy as she spoke it. “About my outburst earlier, I sor…”

He held up one paw, eyes unmoving from the work before him.

“I’mma stop you right there,”

“I’m sorry,” she continued.

“Well I ain’t,” this time he looked up at her with indignation. “You wanna snap at me? Fine.” Rocket’s ears pressed against his skull. “You wanna choke me out or cut me with those knives of yours, be my guest. I’ll fight you any day.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed with speculation.

“Do whatever you want,” he rasped. “But you don’t do it in front of them. Or Groot,” he gestured to the flora who had lost interest in the both of them and was trying to reach for a discarded magazine. Gamora bit the inside of her cheek, looking at the baby. “He’s got a new start on things. He don’t need to see that stuff yet.” He watched her nod in agreement and wiped his claws free of oil.

“I didn’t mean to do those things in front of Groot,” she started. “I didn’t mean to say those things to you.”

“Really? Cuz I did,” he countered. “Thanos might’a taught you to hurt in order to grow but Thanos ain’t taken care of Groot while he gets his growth back...and I ain’t as bad as Thanos.”

This elicited a surprising smile from the assassin.

“No, your not.”

“No killin’ each other in front of the plant capeesh? He’s had enough of killin’....” Rocket swallowed the sour taste of liquor, “and bein’ killed.” Gamora nodded with more vigor this time. He watched her hover on the edge of words, trying to find something to say.

“Thank you, for not killing Nebula today.”

"Wasn't my shot to take." Rocket waved a dismissive paw, turning back to his work. She nodded once more, waved to Groot and made to leave, stopping in the doorway.

“You have my word Rocket, I never call you those names again. Nor will I ever...miss-handle you in that manor again. I swear.”

“Why don’t you go miss-handle Quill?” He laughed.

“I’m serious Rocket,” she pressed.

“Tsch, so am I! He’d love it. He’s clearly in love with you.”

He looked up from the disassembled gun, a sardonic grin coming to his face for the first time in days at the woman’s face, internally waging the possibility.  She gave him a look he couldn’t quite determine and finally left, closing the door behind her.

Rocket worked long into the night, the booze eventually coaxing him into a fitful sleep.

And...I shouldn’t have called you Thanos’s daughter…cuz you ain’t. At all. 

When he woke up the next morning, he couldn’t remember if he’d said the apology aloud. Or if it were another one of his drunken thoughts of what he should’ve said.

[everythingcollided]

Petrichor [Peter Parker]

(credit to owner)

Summary: Peter shows up, soaked from the rain, to explain something said in the heat of the moment. 

Word Count: 3064

Warnings: Swearing, Checkered boxers 

A/N: Here’s another imagine no one asked for. If any of you want to maybe read one you did ask for, hit up that request box ;).

“I’m not giving up Spider-Man for you!”

Peter’s eyes were bright fire, burning embers packed into two powerful orbs that sent me flinching back. Hands clenched into fists at his side and distance from me long in a way that made my stomach curl, he spoke softer, “If you can’t accept it...then go.”

A sound comes from my parted lips. A gasp of surprise or a whimper, it’s one that resembles the crack that appears against my heart. His words are a slap - no, they’re a blow to my side with a sword - and no amount of clearing my throat gets the lump dislodged from it. My eyes burned and in seconds I knew hot tears would tumble from them. I didn’t want him to see them, have the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me, so I gave up my fight. I’ve never been good at reciprocating fire, especially when it came to those I loved. Peter fell into the deepest part of that category.

Without a word, I grabbed my bag and left. The flood came the second the elevator doors shielded me from his floor.

For my seventh birthday, my mom got me a fish.

A beautiful betta fish a shade of indigo I’d never seen before, named Shimmer by my young mind. For months I’d kept her alive on my own, talking through the glass bowl lit up on my nightstand for hours after I returned home from school. Shimmer was my first friend, my best friend and though she never talked back, I loved her.

I cried for weeks after she died.

My parents thought there was something wrong with me, asking around their friend circles to see if any of their children broke after a pet died. I learned that I grew attached to things quickly, especially after I named a boy my best friend for picking up a yellow crayon of mine. And later, when that boy moved away, I found that when I lost those I was attached to, it was painful.

Leaving that apartment physically hurt me. Days have passed one after another, I’ve never been thankful that Christmas break has begun - and that’s saying something. I sit around in Peter’s Midtown School of Science and Technology sweatshirt and wish that we could be spending our time away from school together. Plans of binge watching the Star Wars movies morphed into stuffing my face with ice cream and playing How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days on a loop until I’ve run out of tears to cry.

I haven’t yet.  

I don’t know if we’ve broken up or are on some kind of break but I feel like I’ve lost Shimmer all over again. My chest is tight with a pressure that only fits the definition of ache and my head has been pounding since I pulled into the parking garage of my apartment complex.

“Just go.”

I wipe at my cheek with a dark blue sleeve pulled over my fingertips and unload another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into my mouth. My attachment to it does nothing to soothe my garbage mood. Rain splashes against the windows in harsh strokes, the battering of it on the fire escape outside the glass creating a symphony of soft clangs that soothe my bones. I curl in on myself, finding no shame in inhaling the scent engraved in the threads of Peter’s sweatshirt. A sweet smell, subdued by something I’ve never been able to place. I allow my lashes to flutter and shield my eyes from the poignant scene that’s been drawing away all my happy energy and replacing it with something worse.

A powerful knock at the door draws me from the haze of content I’d constructed.

Groan slipping past my lips without sanction, I burrow further into my arms and convince myself that I just imagined the sound. The aroma of Peter brings the image of him to the black of my eyelids and comfort flows in waves as I watch the colors splash against each other, painting a picture of a boy laughing, blushing.

Another knock.

I grumble, giving a soft punch to the cushion beside me before teetering to my feet and padding over to the door. I’m ready to curse at the person who disturbed my semblance of peace, even if that semblance included the reason it was crushed in the first place. I look through the peephole to ensure myself I’m not about to get stabbed and leave a gruesome scene for my Mom to come home to post-business trip.

My breath hitches at the sight and my fingers grab for the locks before I even fully comprehend the face on the other side, click clicking until he’s standing right there, right in front of me. Ears filling with the beats of my heart and palms beginning to grow moist, the anger rises in my throat. I open my mouth to scream, to yell, to hit him, when I fully realize what he’s wearing.

Peter is soaked from head to toe, thin navy jacket shining minorly with the appearance of water and hair stuck to his forehead like glue. His entire figure shakes and though his hands are stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, I know it isn’t helping when I notice the growing stain on the blue carpet decorating the hallway. His face is pale and his dark eyes are fixed only on me, the bags bordering below highlighting the rich color of them.

All that anger melts away. “Good God, Peter it’s freezing outside what were you thinking? Hurry up you’re soaking the carpet. Do you need a towel? Of course you need a towel, I’ll go get one for you, maybe some clothes too if I can find them. We don’t need you getting sick. Be right back.” I’m halfway down the hall that leads to the bathroom when I catch up with myself. I stop in my tracks, notice the adrenaline thrumming through my veins, the blood occupying the entirety of my face.

“Shit.”

Stupid Peter Parker. Stupid Rowan. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should be leaving him out there shivering and miserable, or throwing books at him, or anything other than aiding him.  “You are such an idiot,” I mutter to myself as I grip a towel, “You literally have no self-defense mechanism, what is wrong with you.”

I berate myself with no successful result as I clamber throughout my room in search of Peter’s sweater - the first one I’d ever stolen from him. It’s buried far back in my closet on a pristine plastic hanger that I almost break in my haste to get this boy out of here before I fall apart, managing to trip twice on my run back to the main room.

I throw the two articles at him, and I know the burst of exercise I completed isn’t the only reason why my breaths are heavy.  “Put that on, I’m going to make you some hot chocolate, you’re shivering.”

“Rowan-“

I send him a glare, both in payback of what he’s made me go through the past few days and a refusal to whatever argument he’s going to make. I resent the way my heart drops when his features turn sad, and he begins to tousle his hair in the provided towel as a gesture of surrender. I can’t help but watch him for a moment while he moves, caught off guard by how much my body is urging me to reach out to him.

He’s shaking, and it’s not until I clench my fist that I realize I am too.  

My stare is diverted quickly when he begins to lift his head and I practically dive into the kitchen.

I make the scorching drink with mechanical actions since it’s been engraved into my mind how he likes his hot chocolate since I gave it to him that first day. It gives me a larger window to think.

I have no idea why he’s here.

Is he trying to break my heart some more? To dump me officially? The thought brings an uncomfortable twisting to my stomach and I have to put down the warming mug because my hands have begun to shake. I tug at my sleeves and run fingers through my wild hair to get it to stop, to no avail. My surroundings are growing blurry due to the tears burning at my eyes and my throat is closing up and I can’t breathe. I’ve never felt like this before, probably because Peter’s different than anything I’ve ever lost. Things like Shimmer and that boy I never had to see again, but the subject this time around is sitting in my living room, doing just fine without me.

And I’m in here crumbling.

I sprinkle the last crumbles of cinnamon onto the previously deposited whip cream and take precious gulps of air. Come on, Rowan, you can do it. It’s just a stupid boy. A stupid, adorable boy that you love. No big deal. Nope nope.

I step back into the living room.

Big deal.

Big deal.

Peter’s head snaps toward the small patter of my feet on the hardwood and I think my lungs compact in on themselves in record time. Messy hair beginning to gain its natural curl as it dries and eyes that look like the honey stored in some kitchen cabinet makes me freeze up. The towel I’d given to him is wrapped around his shoulders clad in the dry sweater.

But his pants are not there.

He is not wearing pants.

“Shit, I didn’t get you pants.” My cheeks burn, eyes traveling up to the red checkered fabric before I can stop them. I bite at my lips, cringing at my idiocy and trying really hard to keep my focus on Peter’s face as I tread over and hand him the hot chocolate.

He chuckles. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not anything you haven’t seen before.” A sound erupts from his throat directly after his words and blood has time to fully rush to my face before he can stutter out the next string, “Shit, I mean...like w-with the Spider-Man s-suit and...yeah. That’s what I meant, sorry.”

His adorable struggle to find the words would be humorous if the mention of his alter-ego didn’t stab into my heart. It’s obvious that he notices my sudden change in mood because the room abruptly turns quiet. “It’s fine.” I mutter, picking at the balls of lint collecting on the edge of my sleeve. From the corner of my eye I watch his fingers grip the bright yellow mug, tapping in a sloppy rhythm I’m too anxious to keep track of.

“Why are you here, Peter?”

He must have been expecting the question, his answer is immediate. “I, uh, wanted to explain.”

“I thought you made it pretty clear,” I’m facing away from him so he can’t see the pain I know hides in my expression. “It’s fine, really, if you don’t...you know, want to be with me anymore.”

It’s not fine, my heart whispers, you love him and you're giving him up.

I hate what’s happening, but if Peter wants it I’m not going to force him to do something that doesn’t make him happy.  All I want is for him to be happy.

I’m finding it hard to inhale as I wait for an answer. The only thing I can hear is the pattern of breaths that leave him and it’s driving me crazy. My knee jumps up and down, pumping the hope for a happy ending into my veins.

I flinch harshly when warmth envelops my hand. It’s Peter, skin retaining heat from the mug I’d just handed him. He intertwines our fingers against my knee and I don’t stop him. I’m one snap away from bursting into tears; my nerves are frayed and my breaths feel ragged and I don’t have the strength to push him away.

“Rowan,” He starts softly. Seconds pass and he sighs in what sounds like frustration, taking a loud sip of hot chocolate and placing it on the coffee table. Those dark eyes meet mine, wide and darting to different parts of my face, flecked with gold. “I meant what I said. I won’t ever give up Spider-Man for you, but I pushed you away instead of explaining. That’s why I’m here.”

He begins to trace around my fingers, it feels like summer is traveling along my nerves. I give him a squeeze to indicate that I want more information. “Spider-Man is everything I’ve wanted to be since I was little. When I put on that suit, I feel like I can do anything. And...that anything includes protecting you, protecting Aunt May, protecting Ned. What if I did give him up and one of you got hurt? Or worse?

The anguish of his words alone is enough to snap the string packing my emotions up tight. A drop slips down my cheek and Peter’s thumb is there flicking it away before it can get too far.

“I’m really scared of losing you, Rowan. And maybe I don’t face that threat a lot doing what I do in Queens, but what about when Mr. Stark needs me again? When not just this city but the whole world’s in danger? I can’t risk not being there to protect you.”

I feel like such a selfish bitch.

How could I parade around begging Peter to give up something that was priceless to him? I was demanding that he take away part of himself for me and broke down because he refused. I’ve been sitting around moping as a result of my own stupidity. “Peter,” I start helplessly but he cuts me off.

“Wait, before you say anything, let me finish.” He briefly lifts his hand to run it through his hair desperately, and he looks frantic. “I can’t give up Spider-Man for you because that would mean that I’m not being the best boyfriend I could be. I’d hate myself forever if I let something happen to you because I was vulnerable. I love you, Rowan. A lot. So, if it’s between you and Spider-Man, I’ll always choose Spider-Man because a you that hates me is better than no you at all.”

Peter releases his heated hold on me and reaches for his cooled hot chocolate, slurping loudly on the contents and diverting my attention away from the self-loathing enclosing on my form. His exposed toes are hitting the floor in a soft pattern, sweater cuff pulled to the fingertips of his left hand and air dried curls beginning to drape over his forehead. He’s unaware of the fact that he looks like the embodiment of a Sunday morning.

I allow myself to dive into that fantasy for a few minutes. Sharing an apartment, cooking breakfast together, getting a dog like we’ve both wanted our entire lives, weekends together, weekdays together.

Why would I ever want to give that up?

And in what universe would I ever hate him?

Peter peers at me from over his cup. “So, um...do you still want to be...together?” Hesitance coats his voice, eyes heavy with vulnerability that tugs on my heartstrings.

That thing he does where he cares about others more than himself even when things are their fault is going to get him killed one day. Once in eighth grade, he’d pushed down his bully, only to help him up right after. He ended up in my house half an hour later with a bag of frozen peas held up to his swollen face.

All the pain I’d gone through after I left his apartment is my fault. I asked him to stop being Spider-Man, and I was the one who didn’t even think to demand an explanation. I’d just left him there, alone.

God, that must have hurt him too.

I skim over the darkness beneath his lashes and the fear twisting his mouth into an attempted smile, guilt coiling around my lungs. I press the pads of my fingers against his tense jaw and let out a breath when it relaxes under my touch.

“I’m sorry.”

Peter shakes his head gently, as to not lose contact with me. “For what?”

I trace the the line of his face until I reach his chin. His eyes close momentarily; I’d forgotten how much Peter loved any reminder that someone cared for him. He was like a puppy. And I’d kicked him. “For hurting you.”

“Rowan,” he says, free hand clutching to mine and bringing it to his cheek, “You didn’t answer my question.”

I hum in response - I’ve gotten caught up in the eyes that must match the shade of the sodden ground outside, in the park we’ve played in since we’d first became best friends, where he’d asked me out.  “Yes.”

His lips stretch wide with the smile I’ve fallen in love with in the happy moments. “Then you didn’t hurt me.”

“But-”

The kiss he places in my palm runs the thoughts out of my skull. “Maybe you should stop overthinking this time around,” he murmurs, placing his mug back onto the table and holding out his arms, “And just...come here.”

I don’t even hesitate to crawl over to him, draping my knees across his lap and burying myself into his chest. He smells like rain and Peter, a combination that works for him and blurs my mind. We’re a mess of unruly hair and rapid heartbeats and Peter dipping his head into my neck because he knows I’m ticklish and it’ll bring a giggle out of me. I want to save the moment forever, hopeful for the future, relishing in a new beginning.

“I missed you.” It’s a whisper against my shoulder, content.

I fumble with his minor curls, unable to resist the tugging at my lips. Sunlight casts itself across the hardwood floors as the rain stops and the clouds part. The shine reflects against the fat drops of water sitting on the leaves of the flowers planted in the windowsill and highlights the strands of Peter’s hair so that it’s quickly a pile of rusted gold in my grip.

We sit there, unmoving in a puddle of yellow, and I couldn’t ask for a better day.

“I missed you too.”

[tf-guru]

Basic Transformation. Tf story featuring woman -> pig, woman -> ????, man -> ????, man -> ????. MC

"What group of motherfuckers know how to pass an exam?" Derrick shouted to the group. His girlfriend Makenna replies

"It was a semester of basic biology, it's not like it was anything insane"

"I know I know but still, I'm proud of us!" Derrick respondes.

The group of four consisted of two couples, Derrick and McKenna, and Hailey and Joe. The group had just finished their biology exam and had decided to celebrate with a trip northward from their small llinois college. Derrick was the light hearted guy you'd always want to be around, his girlfriend McKenna had a bubbly personality as well but also would attempt to curb Derricks zeal.

"So you said your uncle owns a cabin up in Michigan?" This question came from Joe, a soft-spoken realist who often served as the groups leader. He was dating Hailey. Apart from Joe Hailey was probably the only genuine hard worker of the group, having been one of the biggest reasons they had passed their bio class.

"Yeah you guys are going to love it. My dad would take me their sometimes in the summer." Derrick said. The group continued driving for another half hour when suddenly, as if by magic the car came to a stall and Derrick began to pull over.

"What the hell Derrick?" Questioned Joe. Confused, Derrick responded

"I dont know? Everything seems to be fine! Let me go check the engine." Derrick, accompanied by the rest of the group got out and headed to the front of the car. While the rest of the group examined the engine Hailey inspected the area they were in. Looking ahead a shimmering sign at the side of the road caught her eye. She adjusted her glasses as it came into focus and came to read 'Pan's Haunted Museum and Auto Mechanic Shop' the auto mechanic section hung off to the side and Hailey could almost swear that part shimmered for a brief time longer than the rest. Upon finding the sign she called to the others

"Guys! Let's just head to this place, inform the owner of our problem, and be back on the road in no time?" The other two looked to Joe.

"I agree with Hailey, lets go check this place."

It didn't take long to reach the road the attraction was on. The area contained what was advertised, a small shop, a strange circus tent looking area, and a small farmhouse. When they arrived a small, hunchbacked man carrying a small bundle on his back sprang out at them. He had one crazy eye and a chin covered in black and white stubble. He looked at the gang and said

"Who might you be? Peculiar attractions have yee come to see?"

Joe, unshaken by the man's strange odd appearance or weird speech simply said

"We would like to see the mechanic sir." The man began to turn to the house and informed the group

"Hes out. I'll go call him. Feel free to check out the haunted musem over yonder."

After around fifteen minutes McKenna started to head over to the strange tent. With nothing better to do the group entered with her and found themselves in one of those cheap fair booths with "freaks of nature" including fake mermaid and pixey skeletons, magical rocks, and so on.

"Well this is... soemthing." Mckenna said, inspecting the fake mermaid.

"It really is isn't it." Derrick responded only half sarcastic. After throughly inspecting the room McKenna walked over to the far end of the room where a tarp covered an almost hidden door.

"Guys, lets head through here" Mckenna said

"Mckenna we should prob- and she's already gone. Lets go get her and make sure she doesn't get into trouble." Joe instructed as the remaining three went through the door.

The next room was a simple barn area with some hay scattered around. Upon seeing this Joe said,

"Alright, its probably just a staging area for the haunted attraction. Are you satisfied?" Mckenna turned around to retort before abruptly collapsing onto the ground.

"Mckenna!?" Derrick shouted before rushing to her side. He then continued

"She seems fine but just asleep, lets try and drag her back to the other room." Hailey went over to open the door but as she looked for the handle she couldn't find one, or even any sign there was a door at all. She was going to call out when she heard two distinct thumps behind her. She turned around to see both Joe and Derrick had collapsed on the floor. Before she could say anything she suddenly felt extremely dizzy.

As she collapsed on the floor Hailey saw the hunchbacked man before...

Hailey awoke, standing up in a completely different place. While still on a farm she was now outside standing in front of a man. The man was saying something when Hailey focused in

"You okay there? You look dazed." The slightly rotund man carried a pitchfork and wore a pair of blue overalls. Hailey replied

"W-wheres Joe and McKenna and D-" the man cut her off

"Who?"

"My-My friends we were on a vacation trip and and"

"Vacation trip? You've been here for a while. Remember the extra credit opportunity for your veterinarian class?" She did remember vaguely about applying for something along those lines but it seemed almost blurred in her mind.

"Sorry I must have just been day dreaming ha ha."

"Well, time to get to work. I'll show you where I want you today." The man led her into one of the long barns. This one contained a single area for pigs. In the opposite corner was a large mysterious container next to a dolley. The man then informed her

"Okay, I have you on trough refill duty. Fill the pig's trough with the slop and come find me in the farmhouse when your finished. Any questions?"

"No, I can do it." With that the man exited the barn and Hailey got to work.

She first went over to the barrel in the corner, lifting it onto a dolley. Bringing it over to the pig trough she undid the large plastic lid and started to pour the strange slop mixture into the trough.

"Damn, you'd think this would smell horrible but its not that bad!" She thought as the other fat pigs in the pen started to waddle over and treat themselves to the slop.

As she finished pouring a bit of slop spilled out onto her arm. Pulling the barrel back Hailey looked at the gloop on her arm and did a very un-Hailey like thing. She licked it off her arm.

For some odd reason the slop tasted amazing!

"Holy shit! That was so good! I need more!" She ran her finger along the edge of the barrel and consumed it once again. Realizing there was still some at the bottom Hailey poured it over and grabbed some by the handful.

As she ate her body reacted to the slop. Hailey always had had a thin figure but now she was teetering pass chubby. Her small breasts became bigger and her ears grew slightly larger. When she had emptied the barrel a wild hunger overtook her, causing her to go to the only other place near her with slop. The pig pen.

She entered, ignoring the mud starting to cling to her legs. First she simply grabbed slop and ate it but soon found it easier to just eat straight from the trough. With every bite she was less concerned about the other pigs and only focused on eating. She grew plumper and burst from her clothes.

"Will need to grnnt buy clothes, after grnnt eat this delicious..." she said, her feet crusting over into pig hooves, her mouth slightly pushing out into a pig snout, making it easier for her to eat more and more slop. This caused her glasses to fall off and to the side. She was on all fours. Each bite made her eyes fog slightly more and more. She didn't even notice when a tiny curled tail sprouted from her thick lower back.

The farmer walked in to see the piggish Hailey eating from the trough. He walked over to the pen and shuts the door, he calls to Hailey and says

"Damn, thought you were going to make it." Hailey turned around at this, still on all fours.

"Never seen anyone wake up from a sleep spell that fast. Well, don't worry well take care of you as a pig, Pan will be happy to see you." With that he exited the barn and made his way to the farm house.

"Me... me piggy?" Hailey sluggishly thought her famed intellect slipping by the second. Something about what the farmer said confused the pig as she shook her head in an attempt to focus but this only caused her fat cheeks to jiggle and her large ears flop out and down. She turned around to go back to the slop when she spotted her glasses laying atop her shredded clothes.

The sight of her clothes next to the other pigs made the sow-to-be strain and think hard.

"Im not pig... grrnt right? I h-h-human? Or hungry?" She let out an annoyed snort and went to touch her temples with her still human hands. As she raised them she brushed by her snout and came to an epiphany.

"I am Hailey, a human!" This jogged her human memories, her getting to the attraction with her friends, seeing Pans Museum. This realization cleared the fog from her eyes as she finally got a look at herself.

"Im grnnt, turning into a grnnt pig!" She grabbed onto the fence and with her strong will, pushed herself onto two legs. With this act of constitution some other changes receded as well. Her hooves began to soften and return to human feet, some of her fat receded until she was back to a chubby state.

"I... am... a... human!" She thought defiantly and with that she returned to a semi normal form. While still chubby her snout receded and her curley tail snaked back into herself. She quickly exited the barn and headed up to the farmhouse.

She ran to the door of the farmhouse, her new fat giggling as she went. Sneaking up to it she grabbed a shovel that was lying by the door and entered. Inside she found a simple farmhouse and peculiarly a pair of overalls and a straw hat on the ground.

"What the hell?" She thought as she moved further into the house. After a quick inspection of the house she didn't find anyone. She once again went into the main bedroom and opened the closet, hoping to find something to cover her much larger and curvier body. She opened the closet and found around twenty pairs of overalls, all different sizes.

"Thats weird, why would you need so many in so many sizes?" She went through them before finding one that would cover her new frame.

Finally dressed she headed into the kitchen, she opened the door she assumed was for the pantry and then stepped back in shock. Instead of a pantry there was a massive room akin to a warehouse with many rooms and hallways splitting off.

End of part one.