#which Thank God treat me right fucks and it was painful to associate it with negative emotions

[lunamadhatter99]

The Lady and the Lord

Part 11

Sorry for the delay, but here's part 11!

Thank you so much for the support, I really appreciate ❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: some domestic (well deserved) time for our heroes.

Chapter warning: ⚠️ season 4 spoilers ⚠️ (I think.. yeah.) Cuteness

Tag list @deafeningempathfishcowboy

@imangy

@dragqueen-eddie

@eddie-the-banished

@hurricane-abigail

@spaceandstars

@once-upon-an-imagine

@ruxjules

@ssagube

@munsonmunster

I don't think there are words to describe what I'm feeling right now.

Hopper, El and I sitting on the floor of Hopper's cabin, because they didn't have time to fix everything else properly yet, eating some pizza.

"God... I missed pizza" Hopper basically moans as he eats a slice.

"I bet" I nod. "Now we gotta get you back to your previous form"

"Don't worry. I'll get there in no time. Gotta make up for all that... well...whatever they fed us" he says with a chuckle.

I can't imagine what he's been through all this time... he deserves to rest... well deserved.

"I missed you" El suddenly says and we turn our head to look at her.

"I missed you too... both of you" Hopper smiles "even if you were a real pain in the ass sometimes"

El and Hopper laugh.

"That's not true!" I defend myself.

"You're right, you're right... you were a real bane" he chuckles and I open my mouth shocked by his words, but amused at the same time.

"You're really not the one to make that argument!" I challenge.

"What? What did I do?" He laughs.

"You weren't that better" El agrees with me.

"Ah!" I exclaim.

"You two are trying to make me regret the Russian prison? Is that what this is?" He jokes taking another big bites of pizza.

"Never. We don't want to lose you anymore" I say with a smile, looking at El who nods.

"Neither do I" Hopper smile is genuine.. Happy and relieved. As if now he can finally take a break.

I feel my eye getting wet from happy tears so I just blink them away with a chuckle.

"Okay, I don't need any more crying. Let's talk about something else" I declare eating my own slice of pizza.

They nod laughing with me.

"Who... who's Eddie? Dustin talked a lot about him" El softly asks.

Oh god.

"Yeah" Hop take advantage of her question "who is Eddie? Uh?"

"I'm so happy you're here I-" I try to change subject again, but Hopper cuts me off.

"Oh no, no, you won't get away with it now. No Harrington to save you this time either. Who. Is. Eddie?" He says with the most triumphant grin I've ever seen.

"Fuck..." I mutter, I look at El, she sends me an apologetic, yet teasing smile so I take a deep breath "he's my boyfriend... since, uh... today"

"Wait... is this Eddie Munson? As in the drug dealer?" He suddenly asks.

"Yeah..." I say, ready to hear him say I shouldn't be with him.

"He better be treating you right, then" he simply says, catching me off guard.

"Wait... is he okay to you? Like no 'you shouldn't associate yourself with people like him' or something?"

"He's always been a good kid, okay? Not a Saint... far from it. But... he did what he had to do. His father wasn't the best person out there" He explains.

"Yeah.. I know" I sigh.

"So... as long as he treats you right and doesn't do anything illegal... he's alright to me" he gently smiles.

"You love him?" El asks. I look at her smiling at me, I nod.

"He better not break your heart"

"Yeah yeah, Steve already gave him the speech" I wave him off.

"Harrington?" Hopper asks sceptically "Cool-Hair? Really?"

I nod, holding back a laugh.

"Okay.." he sighs "I will have to give this Eddie the actual speech, then"

At that El and I burst out laughing, loudly. Hop looks at us with a warm smile before laughing with us.

The evening goes on like this, laughs and catch ups.

Hopped told us about his time in Russia, how he managed to befriend one fo the guards and then escaped with Joyce and Murray's help.

El told us about her experience in high school in California. Which made my blood boil after hearing about this Angela treating her like shit. She then told us how she got her powers back, about Brenner being alive and about what she discovered about her past... how she first defeated One.

I gently grab her hand after she finished talking and she smile at me, grateful.

I told them about Chrissy, how Eddie had to hide because the whole town thought he was the killer. I told them about us being stuck in the Upside Down, our plan and how Eddie almost died to help us.

When it got late Hopper offered to drive me home so I wish El goodnight and go to get in the car with Hop.

"You sure he treats you right?" Hopper asks while he drives.

"I'm sure, Hop. He's really nice" I tell him.

"Gotta meet him.. I mean.. it's my job, now" he says seriously, but I can tell he's smiling.

" you will, I promise. Just don't be too harsh on him, uh?"

"I'll try. No promises."

"So..." I start, after a while, with a teasing tone.

"So?"

"You and Joyce?"

"What about it?" He asks trying to sound casual about it.

"You needed a year in a russian prison to grow some balls?" I tease.

"For the record... I asked her out before being captured. I just got held up" he defends.

"Mmh... I'll ask her" I declare.

"Go ahead" he invites proudly.

I laugh.

"I'm happy for you, Hop" I say "like.. really happy"

"So am I" he replies. "I'm also very proud of you"

"What for?" I ask confused.

"You grew up so much from last time. Not only physically, but you are braver, more confident. Not that you weren't before... but you know. I talked to Dustin and the others, they told me how you defended them. From monsters and from these jocks that hunted your boyfriend down, gotta give me the names by the way, I'm proud of you"

"How do you know about that?" I ask surprised.

"Dustin" he simply answers.

Oh Dusty..

"I got it from you" I shyly say after a moment. "The bravery"

"Nah, you might be a Hopper now, but that courage has always been there. You just needed to believe in yourself a bit more" he chuckles.

"Maybe" I shrug.

"No, no, it's always been there. Trust me. Stop putting yourself down." He gently scolds me.

"I'm trying"

"You better be"

He pulls up to my house and stops the car.

"Thank you" I tell him.

"No problem. It's good to be back to the old habit" he says.

"I..." I start "Uh... when El won't need to hide anymore... maybe.. uh..maybe you two can live here..?"

Silence falls in the car.

"What about your independence, uh?" He tries, to check if I'm messing with him, I think.

" I know how being independent feels like... I think I want to find out what having a family at home feels like.." I look down playing with my rings as I keep talking "there's enough space to gain two more bedrooms... and, uh... it's close to the police station too."

There's silence again so I turn my head to look at Hopper... wiping away some tears.

"Are you crying?" I ask surprised.

"Of course I am!" He replies as a matter of fact and I softly laugh.

"Should I take it as a yes?" I then ask, rhetorically.

"You should. Yes" he tells me with a proud smile. "Now go get some sleep. It's already very late"

I get out of the car with a smile.

"Don't start being the strict father you tend to be!" I warn him.

"You signed the papers, I can be whatever father I want" he jokes.

"The best one. I know" I tell him walking away, not before noticing a surprised and tender smile growing on his face.

I got home and for the first time in a long time I slept like a baby.

No monster to fight, no douchebag to avoid... just a peaceful night of sleep.

"Thanks again for driving us, Argyle" I thank Jonathan's friend, who gently offered to drive me to get Eddie from the hospital.

I'm sitting in the back with Dustin, while Jonathan sits in the front, he and Dustin helped me look around Eddie's destroyed trailer to see what survived and what could be fixed.

One thing in particular seemed to survive just fine. Can't wait to show it to Eddie.

"No problemo" Argyle answers.

"And thank you Jonathan for helping us this morning" Dustin says.

"Don't worry about it, Dustin. Glad I helped." Jonathan smiles.

"You're curious to know Eddie, aren't you?" Dustin asks with a proud grin and I roll my eyes with a laugh.

"Gotta say yes" he laughs.

"I knew it!" Dustin exclaims.

"Why?" I laugh.

"Because one Dustin and Lucas can't seem to shut up about him and two you're family, I need to be sure he's good enough for you" Jonathan explains.

I smile at that, we really are family.

"Are you too gonna threaten him? Get in line I'm afraid" I tell him.

"Who else?" He asks taken aback.

"Well... Steve already gave him the speech, Dustin here wants too, Hop 'gotta meet him'... so... yeah, get in line" I chuckle.

"Can I get in line too?" Argyle asks, as if he was asking if the sit is taken or something "you seem cool, dude, and if you're Jonathan's friend, you're my friend too"

"Thank you, Argyle" I laugh.

"Also... Steve doesn't count" Dustin comments.

"Oohh I'll tell him you said that!"

"You won't!"

"I will" I laugh.

We finally get to the hospital and Dustin and I go get Eddie while Jonathan and Argyle stay in the parking lot.

Dustin knocks at the door and when we hear Eddie's voice telling us to come in we enter.

"There he is!" Dustin announces.

Eddie's standing up putting putting on his shirt and smiles brightly when he sees us.

"Thought you never came" he jokes.

"I tried to leave you here, but Dustin missed you too much" I joke walking to him.

"You tried, uh?" He grabs my waist to pull me to him.

"I did, he didn't listen... now I'm stuck with you" I say feigning annoyance.

"Oh poor lady" he mocks.

"Uh... guys" Dustin speaks "do you mind? Not in front of me? Please?"

"Sorry" I say with a small laugh.

"I'm not sorry, but fine" Eddie shrugs and lets go of me.

"Ready to go, then?" I ask him.

"Yeah" he says grabbing a small bag with some clothes we brought him.

We walk to the exit and I feel Eddie walking as close to me as possible.

I notice some of the people there sending him hatred and scared looks. Even if both the chief and police officers dropped any accusations towards him, and even apologised to him, people in this town can't help but still blame him.

Eddie walks looking down, afraid of what he might see if he met one of those stare, so I grab his hand, squeezing it as we walk, and finally I feel him relaxing as we arrive at the parking lot to Jonathan and Argyle.

We all planned a small dinner with everyone, both to have a real first moment of relief and also to give Lucas an excuse to take a break.

We stop to grab some pizza in this little place close to Family Video, so we can pick up Steve and Robin and then go to the Wheeler's house.

As we wait Robin and Steve joins us.

"Hey there!" Robin and Steve greet us.

"Hey, man. How do you feel?" Steve asks Eddie.

"A lot better" Eddie answers.

"That's good because..." Robin starts walking up to Eddie "because if you dare, or even slightly remotely think about hurting my friend... you are completely and utterly done"

"She skipped the line!" Argyle exclaims.

"Trust me... that's definitely not in my plans.." Eddie replies, taken aback.

"Oh god" I mutter "Guys, can you please stop threatening my boyfriend?"

A chorus of 'ooh's emerges from the group and Eddie turns to me with a proud grin.

"Yeah, guys, and stop getting my girlfriend all flustered" he pulls me to him "that's my job"

A fake gag sound escapes Dustin mouth at that, but I know he's the happiest about it.

After a while of chatting as we wait some people come in, we simply acknowledge them and get back at listening to Jonathan and Argyle talking about California, but I can still feel them staring... and unfortunately I know who they're staring at.

I stay close to Eddie, knowing he feels their stare too, and I try to give him as much comfort as I can.

I lock eyes with Steve who looks at me with a questioning look so I slightly nod at the people staring at us.

Surprisingly Steve turns around to look at them.

"Got a problem?" He asks making them jump taken aback. "Go mind your own business, uh?"

He turns back around and motion Jonathan to go on, and I see him sending Eddie a supporting nod to which Eddie answers with a thankful one.

When we finally get the pizza we immediately head to the Wheeler's.

"No way!" Eddie exclaims " the neverending story song? Really?"

He sits with Lucas, Dustin and Will on the floor and they're telling him about last summer. Dustin tries to hid himself, embarrassed.

Me and the rest sit on the couch and armchairs around them, Mike is with El in Hopper's cabin.

"And he sang it beautifully" I chime in.

"Yeah, Henderson, should've recorded it" Steve joins.

"Ooh I wish I could have been there!" Eddie jokes.

"Oh, no, trust me, you don't" Jonathan tell him, with a small chuckle. "It was messy"

"Yeah, I was just acting tough, man" Eddie replies.

"Just like you pretend you're that big coward, when in reality you're not." Dustin tells him.

"Yeah, Munson you're a hero. Take some credits" Steve says with a shrug.

"The whole town thinks otherwise" he sadly mutters.

"We think you are. And we're the smartest persons you could ever meet so... we're right" Dustin states.

"You do?" Eddie asks.

"Of course, love" I rub his shoulders to comfort him, making him turn around.

"Thanks" he sweetly say, then turn to everyone "really, thank you"

"Plus... I guess we are all freaks here. We stick together" Robin states.

"Exactly!" Dustin exclaims ecstatic.

"Always" Lucas agrees.

"Hey, guys" Karen enters the basement. "Can someone come up here and help me bring down some snacks?"

"We already got pizza, mom" Nancy tells her.

"Can't eat that all night, c'mon" Karen encourages.

I look at Nancy rolling her eyes and getting up.

"I'll come too" I say getting up as well.

"Thanks" she says as we go upstairs.

We arrive in the kitchen and start helping Mrs Wheeler with the snacks.

"It's so nice having you all back to hang out like that" she comments "helping each other out, supporting each other"

"That's what family does, isn't it?" I shyly say.

"Exactly" she replies with a big and warm smile.

I look at Nancy, who's also smiling.

"We also got two good additions I think" she jokes.

"Oh yeah, that.. Argyle seems very nice, a bit in his own world, but nice" Karen says "and Eddie" she looks at me.

"Yeah?" I ask confused.

"Is he nice?" I can hear the teasing in her tone.

"I... well.. yeah.. I mean, everyone loves him" I nervously chuckle.

I see Nancy and her mother sharing a knowing look.

"What's that look?" I ask, half amused by their teasing.

"Oh nothing, nothing. Is he nice... to you?"

I look at Nancy, knowing she already told her mother about me and Eddie, but she shrugs innocently.

"Yeah, Mrs Wheeler. He is" I say, with my cheeks heating up when she gives me a knowing look.

"I'm glad to hear it, sweetie" she gently says, as she puts some peanut butter on a piece of bread.

"He can't seem to have eye for nothing else" Nancy chimes in.

"Yeah, okay, stop teasing me" I jokingly complain.

"Alright alright, c'mon there you go, girls. Have fun" Karen hands us the rest of the snacks she made and me and Nancy walk back downstairs.

"We got food!" Nancy announces and we pit all the food on the table with the rest of the pizza.

"Whoa, does she think we're gonna starve to death?" Steve comments.

"Well, I'm not complaining" Robin replies as she grabs one sandwich.

I walk back to sit on my spot behind Eddie, who still sits on the floor.

"I missed you" he says to me and I tenderly smile at him, still shy from his affection.

We went on chatting and telling stories about the Upside Down so both Eddie and Argyle, who is surprisingly excited about it asking the most absurd questions. For example he asked if we used actual dog snacks to catch the demo-dogs... he definitely is the funniest addition to the group.

"Okay guys it's getting late, I hate to kick ypu out, but you're parents would kill me" Karen says as she wnter the basement.

"Yeah, we better go too. We got a shift at Family video tomorrow morning" Robin explains.

"Alright, let's go then" Jonathan declares standing up and kissing Nancy goodnight.

We all wish Nancy and her parents goodnight before getting into Argyle pizza van.

The first stop is Dustin house.

"Goodnight guys!" He jumps out.

"Goodnight Dusty" I say.

"Oh! Before I forget.." he turns back around pointing his finger at Eddie.

"Oh god..."

"Yeah?" Eddie pays attention.

"She's my sister, Munson. Okay? You hurt her and I'm gonna, personally, shave your hair, then I'm gonna revive one of those bats and cage you in a small closet with it" he seriously tells him.

"Does anyone else want to threaten me?" Eddie asks.

"Well..." Jonathan starts.

"There's a line, dude" Argyle explains.

"You had to be so nice, uh?" Eddie sarcastically says to me, smiling amused.

"It's not my fault. I tried to make them stop" I defend.

"I'm serious, Munson" Dustin repeats.

"I know, Henderson, I know. And trust me, for the millionth time, I have no intention of hurting this lovely lady" Eddie simply says.

"You better" Dustin glares at him before walking to his house.

"Okay, guys, seriously, now stop threatening him, thank you very much." I chuckle.

"Okay"

"Yeah"

"Sorry" Steve mutters.

"Let's go, please" I ask laughing, basically. They're all so sweet, of course, but poor Eddie.

Once we arrive at my house me and Eddie get out of the van.

"Goodnight" Eddie says grabbing his bag.

"Goodnight and thanks for the ride"

"Y/n, one more thing?" Steve calls "Uh... if you hurt him, I'll... uh... hurt you"

Really?

Everyone laughs.

I think he's trying to make Eddie feel really apart of the group, he gave up on his "non-jealousy" and he wants to make him feel included.

"Ooh.. I'm so scared" I sarcastically say, with a chuckle.

I walk back grabbing Eddie's hand and leading him to the house.

"I appreciate the effort though, Harrington!" Eddie yells at him.

"Anytime!" Steve yells back as they drive off.

#stranger things x you #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn

[gojology]

Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 |  omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general.   Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades.   You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch.   Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards.    Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel.    The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back.    But the custom notification was sweet as well.   You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.   Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them.   You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances.   You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one.   Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.”   Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone.    In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.”   Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.”   You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible.   “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)”   You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen.    “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.”   Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep.  ‧₊˚✩彡.   You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel.   Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle.   “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him.   He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars.   “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.”   You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.”   Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡.    Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face.     “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes.     “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!”    “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.”     Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer.     “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!”     “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind.     “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present.    “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for.    The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life.    A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated:    “WELCOME BACK QT”    “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW”    Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit.     Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone.   “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!”    Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo.   Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed.     Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡.    You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room.     Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents.     The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched.     The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest.    The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together.     Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two.    “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight.     “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see.    “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?”     You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again.     “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined.     “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?”     “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?”     He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room.     “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint.    Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala.     “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.”     Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued.     “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table.     Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.”     “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in.    The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool.     “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again.     “Where do you guys know eachother?”    “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?”    “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?”    “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?”     “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?”     “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?”      Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up.     “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper.     An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji.    “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?”    Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards.     “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.”    “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together.    Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.”    Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again.    Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.    

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #wife reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo #saturo gojou #gojou #jjk yuuji #yuuji itadori #jjk nobara #nobarakugisaki #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen nobara #nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami

[markleesthighs]

Can you make a part 2 for “Forbidden Moonlight”? I’d like to see some gun fighting, some car chasing, some actual mafia jaemin action with the “I would die and I would kill for you!” kinda spirit? I mean the one who requested it has great theme ideas, it is definitely chef’s kiss and I don’t think it should be left off in just 1 part. We gotta know what the ambassador offered to jaemin.

-i'm on a break, so i finally got a chance to write it! I Sorry requests have been taking long, haven't gotten a chance to write in a while. I hope you all enjoy!

read part 1 here

You missed school for the rest of the day. You didn't even have a chance to explain your situation to Jaemin, feeling guilty. In your limo ride home your dad kept scolding and yelling to you about Jaemin. He went on and on about how stupid you were. To be fair, you had no idea Jaemin was associated with the mafia as well as your dad so you brushed off his comments. When you arrived home you didn't bother to talk to your parents as you stormed up to your room.

"There you are, m/n."

"JAE-"

Jaemin rushed to shut your mouth with his hand.

"How did you know where I was?"

"I have a tracker on your phone." "You psycho."

"But you love this psycho."

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought since you've had a pretty shitty day that you'd want to come with me to a drag racing competition."

"Jaemin, you know I'd love to but my parents-"

"God, have you never snuck out before? Just do the thing in the movies where you use pillows to make it seem like you're in bed sleeping."

"Fine."

You piled up your pillows and covered them with a blanket and added a wig to really sell it.

"Let's go."

Jaemin climbed down the lattice below your window that had vines growing on it. You rolled your eyes figuring that's how he got up here. You also saw the busted circuit breaker box, showing how Jaemin got past your tight security. Jaemin jumped over your gate and helped you up and over for your escape. He pulled you onto his motorcycle and you both rode off to the underground drag race arena.

When you arrived it was everything you imagined. Intimidating guys and girls left and right. The security stopped you (clearly since you didn't fit in with your preppy outfit) but Jaemin reassuring the guard saying you were with him. You were expecting Jaemin to be one of the top betters or backers behind a driver but Jaemin started to get changed into a racer uniform. Part of you was worried and Jaemin could tell.

"Don't worry baby, I've done this a dozen times."

You still pouted.

"And yes, I've won every time, and I'll win again for you."

He pecked your lips.

"You better."

He chuckled at your comment as he got into his car. You were standing among his mafia members will visibly worried.

"On your mark racers!"

You heard the loudest rumbling you've heard come out of a car, covering your ears.

"Get set!"

The smell of burnt rubber came towards your nose and the cars became even louder.

"Go!"

The cars sped off with a huge cloud of smoke blowing behind them causing you to cough.

"First time?"

A very tall handsome guy looked down at you that looked like he could tear you to pieces in a second. You nodded in response.

"You must be m/n. Jaemin's talked a lot about you, I'm Johnny one of his members in his...company."

"I know he's in the mafia business, you know?"

"Oh, well at least he told you the truth."

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of the cars approaching you heard all the screams and cheers as you saw Jaemin's car approaching. But you also saw the other one not too far behind. It was intense watching the cars quickly approach the finish line, your heart was beating rapidly with adrenaline. Jaemin was leading before the other car caught up and they kept going back and forth it was causing you to have anxiety. But at the last second, you saw Jaemin pull ahead and crossed the finish line. You and the other members screamed loud cheering and hooting. Jaemin got out of his car and you ran up and hugged him.

"I was so worried."

"Aw, my baby was scared? What did I tell you I'm a professional."

You saw people exchanging money and people cashing out after betting on Jaemin, you assumed everyone bets on Jaemin. Suddenly gunshots were fired and you heard cop sirens getting closer.

"Fuck, which one of you called the cops?!"

Jaemin grabbed your hand along with the other members following you to the back alley where their motorcycles were. A few gunshots were fired in your direction and Jaemin blocked you from the shots. You saw a bullet hit Jaemin.

"Fuck!" "Jaemin! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine, m/n, if it came down to it, I would die for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Can you two lovebirds quit it for one second!?" Mark yelled.

You hopped onto Jaemin's motorcycle as he sped up getting ready to leave. Johnny and others were yelling at him to go ahead and that they'll hold the cops off. Jaemin thanked them and you two sped off into the streets and onto the highway back to his house. Luckily, you both arrived safely at the house with Jaemin's guards being attentive. You sat silently in his living room awaiting the other members who were slowly trickling into the mansion. You saw the maids rushing to give Jaemin a first aid kit before he brushed them off saying he could do it himself. Jaemin was struggling to reach the bullet on the back of his shoulder and he was cutely trying to reach to remove it. You giggled telling him you could remove it for him.

"Are you sure m/n?"

"Yeah, I'm studying to become a doctor so don't worry. "

Jaemin stared as you remove the bullet from his shoulder as he hissed you apologized kissing his cheek. He looked at you stare at his shoulder with such care as you delicately dabbed his wound with rubbing alcohol. As he thought about it he never had someone who cared for him this much, most of them wanted him for sex, money, or reputation. You'd always ask him if something hurt and warn him about you stitching up his wound for him. You wrapped his arm up and you looked up at him to make sure he was ok and Jaemin looked at you with pure love in his eyes. He smiled at you and softly kissed your lips.

"God I love you."

You laughed "I love you too, Jaemin."

He kissed you passionately, leading your kissing to become faster and deeper. As Jaemin was about to take off his shirt, one of his members interrupted the two of you.

Jaemin groaned screaming "What the fuck is it now?! Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"It's Mr. y/l/n."

Jaemin immediately froze, got off of you, and basically commanded that you stay where you were. But you weren't about to miss a showdown between Jaemin and your father, so you followed shortly after. You eavesdropped around the corner of the entrance where your dad and his associates stood along with Jaemin and his associates.

"I know you have him. I want my son back. I don't need someone like you to ruin his future."

"Funny, because last time I believe you offered me a lifetime get out of jail free cards, airway travels, and millions of cash whenever I asked."

"You know that wasn't the deal Jaemin, I told you to leave my son alone for those offers, but you don't seem to hold up your end of the bargain."

"What can I say? Despite you being a complete dickhead, your son is quite a lovely darling."

"Well, would your 'lovely darling' like to see this?"

Your father pulled up a video on a laptop his associates were holding, it was Jaemin and his buds in a club, but you can clearly hear what they were saying.

"Jaemin, I heard you 'found the one' you lucky piece of shit," Johnny spoke.

"Yeah, he's been treating him to everything, it's funny how those lovebirds act around each other," Taeyong added.

"There's no way Na Jaemin found someone to 'settle with', boss you're basically a god, you can get whoever the hell you want." Jaehyun drunkenly spoke.

"I can't believe you got lucky with m/n, he's basically the ideal leverage we need to take this gang to the next level," Lucas said.

Your heart stopped, leverage? What the hell was going on? Jaemin was still silent at this point.

Ten then jumped in "There's no fucking way you're actually in love with m/n right? He's not even that good-looking."

"Fuck yeah, the only thing good about him is his daddy" Haechan responded.

"Don't worry guys you know the only reason I'm keeping m/n is so I can milk out m/n's daddy of his money like a cash cow," Jaemin spoke.

You felt the tears starting to pool up in your eyes as they silently fell down your cheek. Is this what Jaemin really thought about you? What the fuck? So all of this was a joke? You were just fucking money to him? You hated yourself for thinking Jaemin actually loved you. Your dad was right, you didn't need a liar and manipulator like him in your life.

After Jaemin's words were played your father's laptop closed.

"What's wrong, Jaemin? Why so silent?"

"You can't do this."

"Who's going to stop me, think about it, it's my word against yours."

"Blackmail is a fucking cheap way to get what you want."

"How else did you think I got to this position? Beating those who get in my way. Now got get my son, get him for me, or else I'll send this to him to watch for eternity."

"...Yes, Mr. y/l/n."

"Oh and for the future Jaemin, do not think about seeing m/n ever again. You know the consequences."

"...Yeah yeah."

You quickly scurried back to the couch and wiped your tears off your face. You pretended to lie down and be asleep. Jaemin shook you to wake you up.

"Hey, baby?"

"Jaemin? What's up?"

"You...you have to go..."

"W-why?" You said trying not to break in front of him. You gazed into his eyes, is this really someone who didn't love you? You can't trust anyone anymore.

"Your dad is a ruthless man, and he has leverage on me, it's something that will change the way you look at me forever. To spare you the pain, I have to let you go now."

"J-Jaemin...fuck you."

You got up immediately but Jaemin grabbed your wrist.

"m/n...just know that I still love you, I sw-"

"You're just a fucking liar, I hope milking my dad's cash cow was worth losing the person who loved you most."

Jaemin realized you heard everything and was stunned. He watched you walk over to your father who embraced you in his arms with fake responses saying how he was so worried and other bullshit like that. Jaemin ran out to the front in hopes of you turning back. He wanted you to turn back, he doesn't want to lose the love of his life. He didn't want your dad's money, he wanted you.

"m/n! Please! I'm so sorry!" Jaemin was crying pleading on his knees.

He looked up at you, the full moon was behind you, beaming through your beautiful hair, reflecting off your soft smooth skin, just like the first night he met you. But this image was different. The moon shined on your tears and the streaks that fell down your cheek. He saw you with endless tears as each drop sparkled like a crystal in the light. You looked down at him and slapped his face.

"Fuck you Na Jaemin, I hope this was worth it."

You hopped into your car with the moonlight shining through your window as you took one last glance at Jaemin. He was broken and defeated. No wish on the moon could save him now.

#nct x reader #nct angst #nct fluff #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct mafia #nct smut #nct smut requests #nct smut imagines #forbidden moonlight #forbidden love #nct u #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct 2020 #na jaemin #nct jaemin imagine #nct jaemin #nct jaemin x reader #nct jaemin angst #nct jaemin fluff #nct jaemin imagines #nct jaemin scenarios #nct!mafia

[blu-eh]

after school summons

[AO3] 

or: Danny gets summoned. He doesn’t like it.

It starts with a tugging feeling in his very core.

Danny Fenton pauses. If there’s one thing he’s learned in the last year, it is not to ignore random things that are definitely ghostly in origin. He has just enough time to place his pencil on the desk from where he had dutifully been doing his homework—for the first time in two weeks, mind you—before his vision goes white, he hears a snap, and suddenly he’s not in his room anymore.

For a moment he’s weightless, lost in the feeling of falling. Then, his body jerks and he has just enough time to think, oh fuck—before he’s slammed to the ground hard.  His knees buckle under the unexpected weight and he goes down, clumsily, and trying not to throw up what little he’d managed to eat between homework packets.

“Ow,” Danny says.

He lies there, just for a moment, taking in the cool concrete underneath him. He tries to steady his breathing just enough so his mind can process what the hell just happened in the last thirty seconds. He’s still blinking stars from his eyes when he hears the hushed whispers echo around him and a heavy pair of footsteps approaching him. All in all, very bad signs when mysterious (and somewhat painful) things happen to you suddenly.

A gruff, questioning voice asks, “A child?”

“Oh, man,” Danny says, because that definitely does not sound good. Then he forces himself to his knees and looks up.

The first and foremost thing Danny notices is that he’s not alone. He’s on some sort of altar or platform, elevated a foot or so above the ground. A couple feet away, a group of no more than a dozen people surround him in a semi-circle, faces all covered by tattered cloaks. Another cloaked figure, dressed in much more formal robes with gold trimming, stands on the platform a mere couple feet from where Danny is. They all seem to be staring at him, waiting.

Danny hastily gets to his feet. He shifts a little into a sloppy fighting stance, just in case things were to get messy.

The dimly-lit warehouse room and the head covers don’t give him much to work with in the facial feature department, but he’s pretty confident that none of them are ghosts. Mostly from the fact that none of them are glowing and/or ranting about how much of a pain in the ass he is, but it still pays to be wary. Especially when Danny’s situations tend to quickly dissolve from bad to oh my god there are ghosts lose in Amity Park and also he maybe-sort of-possibly died in the process.  

Which brings him back to his next brilliant deduction; he’s definitely in ghost form. He definitely was not in ghost form before this. His ghost form is rather obvious considering he sticks out like a glow stick in darkness of the warehouse. He doesn’t even feel the need to check his hair color, this time, but that’s more due to the fact that he doesn’t want to take his eyes off the weird people who managed to summon him from his bedroom and forced him to change into his ghost form.

(He desperately hopes that they hadn’t seen him change—weird warehouse people are not people that Danny generally associates with secret keeping.)

“Is this a cult thing?” Danny asks before any of them can speak. He takes in white line that surrounds him, and the red liquid (which he very much hopes is not blood) used to paint runes and symbols that circle him, and their weird cloak-like robes, and says, “This is definitely a cult thing. Oh my god, did you summon me? Seriously—”

Before this, he hadn't even known he could be summoned. It's just the little ghostly things learned via accident, sometimes, that truly take the icing on the cake.

There’s a tiny spark of anxiety in his gut, but honestly there’s a large difference between humans threatening him and ghosts threatening him. On one hand, he’d take weird cultist over Skulker’s lair any day. On the other hand, pure white walls and experimentation tables aren’t super high on his to visit list either. Worst comes to worst—before they sacrifice him to some ancient gods, more likely—he puts on his scary face (and maybe adds a couple of explosions) and slips out before they even notice he’s missing.

“Silence, creature,” the robed man snaps. Danny zeros in on him and immediately deduces him to be leader from vibes alone. Also the gold trimming on his robe, which very much screams leader of weird cult that summons ghost kids.

“I—okay, you know what? That was just rude,” Danny says. He points to the white line that surrounds him, “Is that cocaine?”

Danny has a feeling he doesn’t want to know the answer to the mysterious red liquid and painted symbols, so he doesn’t ask.

“It’s salt,” one of the other cloaked figures answers, like it should be obvious.

(It’s not actually obvious, and actually leaves Danny with more questions than he started with. Mostly in the realm of how did a group of cultists summon him with salt. He knows salt is supposedly an anti-ghost measure, but Danny is pretty convinced it has little to no effect on him considering the amount of Nasty Burger fries he’s consumed haven’t taken him out yet.)

“Salt,” Danny repeats. He pauses, then awkwardly tags on, “That’s good, I guess, because drugs are bad. Uh, don’t do drugs.”

A cultist quietly, and a little slowly, answers back, “We, uh, don’t.”

“Right,” Danny says. His eyes catch another section of weird in this already weird, cultist warehouse. At the base of the platform sits a variety of bones, so fresh that some of the muscle still clings to them. “Are those bones? Oh my god, did you sacrifice someone? That’s not cool! Murder isn’t cool!”

“Those are goat bones,” another follower says.

“Oh,” Danny says. “Well, I mean, that’s still fucked up on a variety of levels, but I guess that’s better than murder. Unless it's considered goat murder? Uh.”

For a second, there’s silence. The nature of the interaction is so awkward and oppressing that he almost goes invisible just to save himself the scrutiny of these random people and get the hell out of dodge. His curiosity is the only thing that holds him back—that, and the fact that he’s not quite sure if any of these people are secretly hiding ecto-weapons.

Danny very much does not want to be shot tonight.

He looks around the room, eyes taking in every inch of the sparsely decorated warehouse. There’s nothing that immediately grabs his attention, nor anything that really screams danger but it pays to be suspicious of his surroundings in his line of work. A few of the cultists notice this, and start shifting awkwardly as Danny looks over them as well.

Then, Danny’s eyes flicks back to the lead cultist and he says, “I’m going to be real honest here and say that I have no idea what the heck is going on.”

The leader makes no inclination that he acknowledges any word that comes from Danny’s mouth. Instead, he brings an old, wrinkled hand up to his face, like he’s thinking about some complex problem. The leader circles Danny once, then again, and Danny feels something inside him defensively coil like a spring.

He tries not to be bothered when people treat him as something lesser—it’s not, exactly, uncommon for him to encounter. He dealt with being shoved into lockers long before he died, anyways. It doesn’t stop his shoulders from tensing just the barest amount.

Instead of showing this, he brings his feet up to his chest and crosses them mid-air, and fakes a yawn for good measure. A few of the other cultists gasp in wonder and fear. The leader simply stops his prowling and turns to face Danny.

“So this is the fabled Ghost King,” the man says, like he expected better.

Danny feels he should almost be offended if it isn’t for the tiny detail that these cultists—who summoned him by using salt and goat bones—assume he is the ghost king. “…Did you seriously confuse me with Pariah Dark?”

The man pauses, and asks, “Pariah Dark?”

“Yes! He’s like fifteen feet tall, has a huge sword, is a pain in the ass, and has, like, an entire ghost army. I have, I dunno, pre-calc homework in my bag. We are not the same.”

Some of the followers in the background shift uneasily. Danny bares his teeth in their direction, just to see them squirm. A couple take worried steps back and Danny fights off a satisfied grin.

Hey, poke a bull and get the horns. In this case, summon a ghost-teenager and get the ecto-powers.

(He’s slowly becoming more and more aware that these people have no idea what they’re doing.)

“I see,” the leader says. From his tone, he definitely does not see. “It doesn’t matter. Our book summoned the King of Ghosts and that is you, so you will do as we tell you and your pain will be lessened.”

“I am still not the Ghost King,” Danny tells him. “And no thanks. I’ve already used my yearly cult sign up and I can’t say I’m thrilled to join another. If you’re going to hold an initiation ceremony, at least decorate a bit first. Uh, not counting the goat bones and salt, of course.”

“You have no choice,” the leader snaps and steps a bit closer to him. Danny merely raises an eyebrow. “We are the Followers of Infernal. We have summoned you to serve us. You are bound to our will and bound to our grace, as the book foretold. Now bow, demon, for we are your new masters.”

There’s a very large portion of Danny Fenton that is convinced any good karma he held in life did not pass with him during his death a mere year ago. An even larger portion of him is convinced that these guys are no more serious than the GIW is. Danny does not tell the cultists this.

Instead, he squints and says, “Alright. I definitely failed US Government, but I’m pretty sure that’s not legal. Don’t you guys need like, a permit to summon undead beings of mass power?”

“It thinks it’s funny.” The leader’s face is mostly hidden by his robe, but Danny can imagine the sneer there from his tone alone.

“Trust me, I’m not the one who’s a joke right now,” Danny says. He looks back over at the dozen or so followers and grins at them. They don’t seem too keen that he’s not following their master’s orders and bending to their will. He turns back to the leader. “What’s in it for me?”

“What?”

“If I follow you and stuff, what’s in it for me?”

The leader pauses, then says, “You will be spared of punishment.”

“Hmm, that’s not good enough,” Danny says. He angles his body so he's once again looking at the followers and points at one in the middle. “Hey, you! With the cloak. No, not you, the other dude. To the left. Yeah! You. What do you have to offer me?”

The follower looks so startled that he cowers for a second. Then, seeing as he hadn’t been reduced to a pile of ashes from Danny’s gaze alone, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small and silver. “Uh, I have a paper clip, your ghostliness.”

“A paper clip,” Danny repeats. “Yeah, sure, fine. Whatever. That sounds neat.”

“You’ll submit to us?” the man sounds so hopeful that Danny almost feels bad for being a jerk. Then, he remembers that they summoned him out of his nice, warm bedroom at ass-o’clock in the night and feels significantly less amounts of pity.

“No, dude, I’m not being your sack of potatoes for a paper clip. Man, you guys are stupid.” Danny rolls his eyes and floats just a bit higher. The other followers shuffle around again, uncomfortable. In front of him, the leader remains impassive as ever. “Where even am I?”

“The lair which you will spend the rest of your afterlife,” the leader says.

“Okay, this is definitely a warehouse, firstly. And secondly, dude, I meant what state.”

“…Wisconsin,” the man allows because of course everything terrible happens in Wisconsin.

“You chose the worst state to have your crappy lair,” Danny tells them. Now he has to fly a couple hundred miles home and hope he gets there by morning, all the while avoiding his creepy, obsessed arch-nemesis. He wonders if Vlad is even aware there’s a ghost-obsessed cult in his home state. Probably not. “Nothing good ever comes from Wisconsin. You can take that as, like, ghostly wisdom or something.”

“Hey,” one of the cultists says, offended. “The Packers are in Wisconsin.”

“Nothing good,” Danny repeats, firmly.

“Enough of this nonsense,” the leader says. “It’s trying to distract you because it fears control. Briar, bring me the orb.”

“Yes, sir,” one of them says.

The followers mutter to themselves and teeter around in their positions. The woman who spoke, on the end, bows and scurries off. Danny watches as she runs through the darkness of the warehouse, footsteps echoing around them, until he can no longer see her among the darkness.  

“Hey, if they already listen to you then why do you need me?” Danny asks. The leader doesn’t answer, so Danny floats a bit on his side and puts his arms behind his head. “What kind of orb are we talking about, anyways? Like one of those Spirit Halloween ones? Or is it more like orbeeze? I can’t saw I’m super excited from your ominous it fears control statement, but—"

“Silence, beast,” the leader says.

Danny huffs. “I’m just asking. No need to be so snippy.”  

The man ignores him which, rude. Danny’s just about to see how far he can test this guy’s patience when Briar comes back, just as quickly as she had disappeared. She jogs through the warehouse and up the steps of the platform. Danny can’t see her face, but from the way her hood moves to glace at him every so often, he figures that she’s probably nervous. Specifically about him lounging around in a circle full of salt.

“Father Johnathan,” Briar says and bows. In her hands is a glowing, silver orb. It really did look like a generic orb one would find in a Spirit Halloween. “The orb.”

“Your name is Father Johnathan?” Danny asks. He eyes the orb for a second, but doesn’t feel the tingle of ghostly energy from it, so he ignores it. He turns right back to the leader, not able to keep the grin off his face. “Your name is really Father Johnathan?”

Father Johnathan gently takes the orb in his hands as Briar scurries off towards the rest of the followers. Then, he sighs and says, “Yes, creature, my name is Father Johnathan and I shall be your new master.”

“Oh my god,” Danny says, positively gleeful. “I meet real life Papa John and he summons me with salt and threatens me with a Spirit Halloween orb.”

“Laugh all you want,” Papa John says. The nervous air shifts into something a bit more predatory. “You will not be laughing much longer.”

The cultists break into applause and talk amongst themselves loudly. They shift forward, eagerly, as if they want to watch the spectacle up close. They’re only a foot or so away from the platform when Papa John waves at them to halt.

Papa John holds up the orb. It swirls, the silver fog inside consolidating and then dissipating. Something inside it starts to glow the barest amount.

Danny pauses, just for a second, and watches it. There's still no tingle of ghostly energy coming from it. If he hadn’t already thought these guys are a joke, he definitely would’ve been a tad more nervous. As it stands, he thinks nothing of it—no ghostly energy means no control over ghosts.

(Unfortunately, he knows the feeling of ghost-controlling objects quite well. It’s not an experience he’s eager to repeat.)

The orb glows brighter, and brighter, swirling more furiously. The chatter of the cultists picks up to the point where they’re almost shouting, jeering at him. Papa John draws closer and closer, orb outstretched. He holds it through the salt line and touches it to Danny’s chest. The shouting from his followers almost becomes unbearable.

And then….nothing. The orb stops glowing. The fog inside stops swirling. It simply dies in Papa John’s hand.

“Was that supposed to do something?” Danny asks.

Papa John touches him with the orb again, a tad more forceful, so Danny assumes it was supposed to do something. From the panicked whispers around him, it definitely was supposed to do something to him. Danny’s honestly not sure if the outcome is due to him being a halfa or these guys being a joke.

(He’s willing to bet it’s the latter.)

“I think your LED batteries died,” Danny tells him. “Or maybe you mixed up your Spirit Halloween orbs. Better luck next time.”

Papa John stops furiously pressing the orb to his chest and if Danny could see his face, he has no doubts that Papa John’s expression would be livid.

“You will obey us,” Papa John says.

“No,” Danny says. “I won’t.”

“You will—”

Danny swings his feet down so hard that he cracks the very ground he now stands on. Dust kicks up around him as he stands tall, even though Danny’s at least two feet shorter than the leader in front of him. His eyes burn a brilliant green and he crosses his hands over his chest in an effort to look intimidating. The cult thing is interesting and all, but it's late, he still has homework to do, and Jazz has definitely noticed him missing by now so it's probably better to end this before they can get another object from a Spirit Halloween and try that instead.

It works, if the half-step back from Papa John is anything to go by.

“Listen,” Danny says, flatly. “Get a hobby and leave me alone or else you won’t like what I’m going to do.”

He makes his form flicker and the temperature drop in the room, just for dramatic effect.

Some of the followers in the background shift uneasily. A couple take panicked steps back. More than a few look ready to bolt for the door and leave this cult business behind forever.

Danny takes notice and stares at them, smiling wide enough that they could see his slightly-toothy grin. He makes sure his eyes flare, just a touch, and says loudly, “Boo.”

To say the cultists are startled would be an understatement. More than a few stumble back, a couple falling onto their asses. One trips on their robe and is sent tumbling. Another one yells and cowers. Papa John has no time to reign in the situation before two scatter completely.

“Peace!” Papa John shouts over the chaos of a dozen panicking followers. Those that remain do settle down enough to hear his words. “Stand down, there is nothing to fear. It is only trying to scare you into letting it free. It is trapped whilst it remains in the circle.”

Danny snorts. “I can leave any time I want.”

“You cannot leave here, demon—”

Danny raises one single eyebrow and dutifully steps out of the summoning circle.

The warehouse erupts into chaos.

The cultists are yelling now, but this time there’s only because of fear. They scatter over each other, running and tripping over their obnoxiously long cloaks. A couple trample the goat bones to the point where several loud snaps are heard over the pandemonium. It only adds more fuel to the fire as less than a dozen people scramble to get as far away from the platform—and subsequently the ghost-kid—as possible.

“Do better than a paperclip, next time!” Danny calls out to them. They only seem to run faster at the sound of his voice.

Papa John is the only one who doesn’t run. He had stumbled off the platform and away from Danny the second that Danny made it over the salt line. However, in the disarray, he had been knocked to the ground, his orb lay broken at his feet, and his robe’s hood had been yanked off and left on the ground beside him. He sits, frozen, but Danny doesn’t know if it’s from shock or from fear.

Danny takes a step closer to him.

“How…?” Papa John whispers. He’s not looking at Danny—only his old, wrinkled hands. He’s bald, with brown eyes. He looks like nothing more than any generic old man that Danny would see at a grocery store on Sunday afternoon. “We followed the book. We…we took every precaution the book said. We were supposed to have the perfect slave, bound to our every word. We…”

“That didn’t work out too well for you, huh?” Danny says and crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s ‘cause you forgot the dunce cap when you decided to be the class clown.”

“Please,” Papa John says. “Spare me.”

There’s something wrong about this—seeing a human beg for his life at Danny’s feet. Danny doesn’t want to be feared. He never has wanted to be feared.

He presses his lips together and takes a single step back. Some part of him, though, knows that he desperately needs to make his point clear to avoid another situation like this (likely with more weapons, next time).

“I warned you,” Danny says softly. His voice echoes around the warehouse. The man below him shivers in terror. “Do not summon me again, or I won’t be so nice next time.” He pauses, just for a second and can't help but tag on, "Papa John."

He lets his threat linger and hopes the man takes it seriously enough that he won’t get summoned again. Then, the cool strings of invisibility wrap around his body and he disappears from sight. Danny takes one look at the man left on the floor before he shakes his head and shoots up into the Wisconsin night sky. He doesn't hear the shouted response of it's Father Johnathan from several hundred feet below him on the warehouse floor.

Danny waits about all of thirty seconds before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

"Jazz? Hey, yeah, I'm fine. Yes, seriously, I'm fine but you are not going to believe what I just went through—"

#me mentioning my love for spirit halloween no less than five separate occasions #anyways #my fics #danny phantom #i Attempted to mention every single ectober week 2020 in this fic so like. lmao #ectober #ectober 2020 #ectober week #ectober week 2020 #phan phic #phic #tw drug mention #there are no actual drugs but i do reference a drug by name so this warning applies

[just-come-baek]

get in, loser 3

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | streetracer!reader | carthief!reader

Word count: 6.8k

Summary: Taeyong has another assignment for me, and though it seems quite simple, I could not foresee these complications. Also, why do actions have consequences? Somebody should’ve warned me before!

Warnings: mentions of murder | alcohol consumption | assault attempt | roofied drink | police negligence | drug smuggling | drug usage | poor stress management | drop dead goregeous men | foul language | 

A/N First of all, special thanks to Ally for supporting me through ko-fi! 🥰 Also, sorry for not updating it sooner, I’ve been busy with work and college, the next chapter will be probably around New Year, since I’d like to write something christmasy. 🎄Enjoy~~ 

There’s something unexplainable about Taeyong.

He’s a living paradox; on one side, he’s a ruthless mafia boss who won’t hesitate to attack people who had dared to wrong him. However, on the other, he’s a caring leader that is ready to go out of his way to protect his loyal associates.

Though it was, give or take, two weeks since I got to know him personally, I could deduct this much. There was nothing he valued more than loyalty, and I made a mental note to myself to never let him down, especially in this department.

Despite witnessing him murder Haechan and Jisung, I felt oddly safe in his arms, and it was alarming as fuck. Only God knows how many red flags I decided to ignore this night for the sake of his warm embrace. Perhaps it was stupid and reckless, but I didn’t care.

I was scared, and it provided me with warmth and comfort. Taeyong was the one who inflicted the wound on my mind by making me torture Haechan. However, at the same time, he was helping me to treat it with his support.

I didn’t do anything wrong. However, according to Taeyong’s twisted sense of justice, it should be me to punish them – an eye for an eye and all of that bullshit.

As soon as Taeyong led me out of the basement, he leaned in. His whisper tickled my sensitive skin as he ordered me to wait for him in my new car. With a slight nod of my head, I exited the mansion, awfully glad he let me go. Though I tried to forget it even happened, my mind was replaying all of the events from the last hour, making me sick.

The cold fresh breeze hit my face, making me shiver. Wrapping my arms around my torso, I made my way to the vehicle. Once inside, I turned on the music player, looking through for my therapy playlist.

The first song on the playlist was “Don’t Cha” by The Pussycat Dolls, and I nervously began tapping my fingers against the steering wheel in the rhythm. At some point, I unconsciously started singing my heart out, and it actually helped me calm down my nerves.

Unfortunately, the sensation was short-lived. As soon as Taeyong sat down in the passenger seat and closed the doors, I once again became a nervous wreck.

What did he want to discuss with me in private?

“Your opponents didn’t make it easy for you, did they?” Taeyong asked with a mischievous smirk upon his face after he saw the current state of the car.

“It’s just a couple of scratches; it’s no big deal,” I stated, trying to brush it off. Though it pained me, I knew Doyoung would gladly help me fix the vehicle in exchange for a fancy bottle of booze. (And some free ride coupons if he happened to be extra whiny.)

“So…” I cleared my throat, trying not to seem overly intimidated by his presence. “What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked, avoiding his dominant gaze. Under the influence of Taeyong's penetrating eyes, I’d most likely agree to anything in a heartbeat, and that’s not what I wanted at the moment. I had to be assertive and stand my ground.

“First of all, where is the money you won tonight?” Taeyong inquired, and I tilted my head toward the glove compartment, where I had stuffed all the cash I had won in the race. With a playful smirk, Taeyong reached in, pulled out the bag, and looked inside.

“You made me really proud tonight,” he commented, staring at the money before he put his hand into the bag and threw a handful of cash on my thighs. “That’s the tip, spend it wisely,” Taeyong added, and I smiled sheepishly, having no idea what I could spend this money on.

“Thanks,” I answered out of courtesy.

“I know you must be exhausted, so I’ll be quick,” Taeyong started, and I smiled, glad he understood my state. I had survived a couple of terribly tiring days, and right now, I just wanted to return to my tiny apartment, crawl under the covers, and sleep to my heart’s content.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Next Saturday, I have a business to tend to, and I’ll be needing a driver,” Taeyong explained vaguely, and I nodded my head, making a mental note of it. “Normally, I’d ask Lucas, but we’re a bit understaffed right now, so he’s going to be pretty busy.”

If I wasn’t half-asleep by now, I would be outraged. Ever since I had stolen Taeyong’s vehicle, I put my blood, sweat, and tears into proving I could be a legit gang member. And now, they were looking for recruits, the nerve! Partially, I might’ve been an indirect reason they were understaffed at the moment, yet it still managed to anger me.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll do it,” I replied dismissively, not even bothering to ask for any additional information. The case seemed too easy; there must’ve been a catch, but at this point, I didn’t care. I just wanted this conversation to be over with. Taeyong wouldn’t assign me to this task if he didn’t believe I could pull through, so I naturally agreed, hoping I wouldn’t regret this negligence.

“Someone will text you more details sometime next week until then, get some rest, you look like you need lots of it,” Taeyong spoke teasingly as he once again eyed me from head to toe. I could only guess how awful I looked with the bruises, the eye bags, and an unimpressed frown on my face.

“Gee, thanks for that,” I jested, making Taeyong smirk in response.

“See you soon, doll,” having leaned toward me, he whispered before pressing a delicate kiss in the corner of my mouth, confusing the hell out of me.

What the hell was that?

***

Though at first, I was doubtful, I somehow managed to get better over the week. I still had a vivid picture in my mind of the crime scene unfolding in front of me, but it didn’t bother me as much as it had earlier. Also, I didn’t feel like throwing up out of stress when I thought of Taeyong. As time passed, all the intensity seemed to wear off, and I was glad because I wasn’t ready to take in any more stress.

Right now, I felt great.

Most of the bruises already healed, and I slept to my heart’s content and even went to the fitness club for some yoga classes. Last night, Doyoung and I had a sleepover at my place with classic 90’s movies, unhealthy snacks, and fruity face masks.

Life’s beautiful, I’d say.

Just as Taeyong had said, someone had texted me the details about the next gig. It was Lucas, and as much as I liked hearing from him, I’d much prefer a face-to-face encounter. He was hot as fuck, and though out of my league, I would love to appreciate his ethereal beauty in person instead of imagining him in yet another gorgeous outfit. I just couldn’t help myself; it was his fault he looked like his place was on the cover of Men’s Health.

His message was short, but it provided me with a lot of information, and in all honesty, I was glad he didn’t give me too many details. All I had to do was to escort Taeyong and his friend to a nightclub outside the city and drive them back to the mansion. The car would await me in Taeyong’s driveway, and I should arrive about half an hour before the departure. Oh, and of course, what the dress code was – nightlife extravaganza.

I had no idea what business they were to tend to, but I decided it was for the better. The less I knew about Taeyong's dirty dealings, the less trouble I was getting myself into. If I knew what they were about to do, I might’ve found myself in yet another one stress-heavy episode. It seemed like the only reasonable option to stay the hell away from any possible stress factors.

“How do I look?” I asked Doyoung as I stepped out of my bathroom, letting him check out the outfit. I was wearing a black two-piece, consisting of a cropped top with straps around the waist and a pair of high-waisted leather skinny pants. With ankle strap red high heels, a matching quilted purse, and sharp make-up, I felt sexy and empowered.

“You look like a badass CEO, is this the look you were going for?” Doyoung stated after carefully judging my outfit. Sighing, he put one leg over another. “I like it,” he smiled, giving me thumbs up. “Top it off with that leather jacket, and you’re good to go.”

“The black one or the red one?” I asked, looking at the jackets, wondering which would suit me better, ignoring ‘the really???’ look that Doyoung was giving me. “OK, never mind, sorry I asked,” I groaned, throwing the black jacket at Doyoung’s face, putting the red one over my shoulders.

“Mr. Bad Boy won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” Doyoung remarked in a snarky manner, and I stuck my tongue out, trying to ignore the verbal jab. Very sophisticated conversation between two best friends, I had to admit.

“I won’t even reply to that,” I sighed and went to the mirror to check out if my make-up needed any retouch. Doyoung must’ve really thought I was trying to impress Taeyong with the outfit, and to be honest, it was the least of my worries. Though we barely spoke with each other, Taeyong didn’t seem to understand the meaning of personal space, so I doubted he cared what I was wearing. As long as I’d let him take it off, he would be satisfied.

Not that I thought about letting him do that…

I was a professional, and sleeping with my boss, or even thinking about it isn’t at the top of my priorities. I’m a skilled car racer and a thief, and that’s what I’m planning on focusing on.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back. Close the doors when you leave, okay?” I told Doyoung, and he smiled, lying on the couch, reaching for the TV remote.

“No worries, I’ll just watch the game, clean up the mess you made, and leave,” he said before he stuffed his mouth with a handful of potato chips. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

***

Punctually, I parked my cute Fiat on Taeyong’s driveway right next to a big ass black Hummer. Having got out of my tiny vehicle, I made my way around the monster truck, seeing Lucas in the driver seat, setting up the navigation system. I knocked on the window, and the man turned his head around in a second, sending me a playful smirk.

God, he’s ridiculously hot. My memory didn’t do him justice. With his hair swept back, in a loose red jacket and a low-cut black t-shirt, he looked mesmerizing. A minute later, he exited the vehicle, and I saw him in all his tall glory, and for a brief second, I forgot how to breathe.

It was the effect® Lucas had on regular people.

“The keys are in the ignition, the location already typed into the GPS system. Taeyong and the other guy should be here in a few,” Lucas said, and I nodded.

Who’s the other guy?

Not even Lucas knows his name?

Strange…

“Hello to you, too,” I spoke, smiling at him. Taeyong was nowhere to be seen, so I cleared my throat before firing a question, initiating small talk. “How is recruiting going?” I inquired, genuinely curious about the progress he must’ve made.

“Nothing much yet, but I’m full of hope,” Lucas answered honestly, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, you inspired me to broaden my horizons,” he added, and I cocked up my eyebrow, wanting him to continue. Did I inspire him? Wow.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’ve done some impressive shit,” Lucas confirmed, and I blushed at the compliment. “I’ve figured we need more women in our field, and I’ve talked to two best female candidates I could find. Right now, we discuss terms of recruitment,” Lucas explained excitedly, and I was positively shocked to hear such news.

Did someone hit him in the head with the feminism manifesto, or what?

“I don’t know what to say…” I whispered, trying to wrap my head around the newest revelation. Having experienced the treatment I received from most of them, it was hard to believe it took them so little time to change their mindset. I mean… it was just Lucas for now, but the change was already visible. “I’m happy to hear that; I can’t wait to meet them,” I added, turning my head to the side upon seeing Taeyong and his friend.

“Meet who?” Taeyong asked in confusion as he didn’t know the full context of our conversation.

“We were just talking about new recruits. I fill you in as soon as I have everything confirmed,” Lucas spoke. Taeyong nodded his head in comprehension, not even half as interested as I was. “Have a safe trip. I’ll get going,” he excused himself before walking away to a white Lamborghini Huracan.

“Missed me, doll?” Taeyong asked with a suggestive smirk decorating his face, as he bit on his bottom lip, glancing at me from head to toe. Yikes! It was unprofessional, and I wanted to scold him for being such a caveman. However, on a second thought, I decided to straighten my back to assert my confidence. Taeyong just wanted to express his appreciation for my fantastic outfit. Even though he chose the creepiest way of doing it, I chose to ignore it with a subtle eye roll.

“Is he always this nasty with you?” The mysterious man asked me as he walked past Taeyong, stretching his hand, greeting me like a regular person. “Pardon him, I’ve told him many times to work on his manners, but it’s like talking to a wall,” he added, and I chuckled, respecting the man already. He was talking shit about Taeyong in his presence – it was admirable.

“Who’s nasty? Speak for yourself!” Taeyong yelled, but his shorter friend just brushed it off.

“I kind of got used to it,” I replied casually, trying to give him a neutral answer.

“I’m Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, but since no one can pronounce it right, everybody calls me Ten,” he introduced himself, and I replied with my name, hoping he would use it instead of yet another infantile nickname.

“Nice to meet you, Ten,” I answered, smiling at the man politely.

“Should we get going?” Having cleared his throat, Taeyong asked, urging us inside of the vehicle. Following Taeyong’s order, I smirked, thinking of his ridiculous behavior. It was the first time when I didn’t give him my full attention, and it was evident it bothered him.

It was new and refreshing, and it was kind of cute of him.

“Yeah, sure, get in, losers, we don’t have all night,” I added, growing a little bit impatient with their slow movements.

“You really have to stop calling me that,” Taeyong whispered in a low voice as he put his hand on my thigh and gave it a firm squeeze.

“And you really have to fasten your seatbelts, or we’re not going anywhere,” I teased with a big, artificial smile, scraping his hand off my thigh. “Those rules apply to you, too,” I added, looking into the rearview mirror, catching Ten sitting comfortably, ignoring seatbelts.

“Is she always like this?” Ten asked, yet obediently following my instructions.

“No. Usually, she’s way cooler,” Taeyong answered, pouting slightly.

***

A little over an hour later, I parked the Hummer in front of a night club. Apparently, all types of shady dealings were meant to be discussed over strong liquor and with a half-naked lady sitting on their laps.

“Good luck, boys,” having turned off the engine, I spoke, sounding awfully like a mom, dropping her kids at another soccer practice.

Annoyed, Taeyong smirked. “Oh no, you’re going with us,” he added, and I cursed under my breath, displeased that Taeyong managed to ruin my plans of staying behind and not getting involved in whatever business they were about to discuss. The less I knew, the better, and Taeyong was really making it difficult for me.

Trailing slowly behind them, I entered the club.

“Get anything you want. We’ll be back in a few,” Taeyong whispered into my ear as he slid his platinum credit card into my palm. “Don’t cause any trouble,” he added before they both walked away to the booth at the back of the establishment.

I still could see them, though they were outside my earshot. It couldn’t get any better. I wouldn’t have to worry about hearing anything that wasn’t meant for my ears. However, at the same time, I could appreciate their natural beauty, fashion sense, and confidence in their original habitat.

I was a designated driver tonight (duh), and it was more than irresponsible to buy myself an alcoholic drink – especially with my ridiculously low alcohol tolerance. Leaning over the counter, much to the bartender’s dismay, I ordered a virgin Mojito.

Having checked whether or not the bartender spat into my drink, I picked up the glass, wrapped my lips around the straw, and took a sip. Though it was delicious, I’d much prefer it to have some alcohol in it. Maybe next time, perhaps tomorrow on my day off, I told myself as I spun on the barstool to have a look at Taeyong and Ten.

They both looked gorgeous, though they didn’t fit the typical mobster description.

Taeyong had his now baby blue hair styled down, a white suit jacket, a baby blue T-shirt, and light pants that made him look like some lawyer on a business trip. Ten, on the other hand, with his messy parted bangs hairstyle, an olive bomber jacket, black hoodie, and a pair of black cargo pants, resembled a lost college student.

The men, who they were meeting, were a completely different story, though. All of them seemed like lethal mobsters with their short hair and all leather outfits. I knew for sure I wouldn’t like to stumble upon them in a dark alley. Without any doubt, they had guns on them, and I was fearful enough to turn my head around and return to my drink.

Not knowing how much time it would take them to discuss all terms of whatever agreement they wanted to sign on, I decided to text Doyoung to pass the time. Unfortunately, before I managed to pull out my phone, my drink got knocked over by a very drunk girl sitting on the barstool next to mine.

“Hey, watch it!” I shouted as I jumped off my stool, not wanting to get all wet. In a matter of a few seconds, the bartender rushed over, helping me wipe off the counter.

“I’m really sawwy,” she said in a drunken haze, and I rolled my eyes, not really wanting to start an argument with an intoxicated person. When drunk, I also tend to be more clumsy than usual, so I simply decided not to hold her accountable for such a minor mistake.

Having apologized for spilling my drink, she excused herself, leaving her date at the bar alone. A good-looking man ordered another round of cocktails for him and his date. I cocked my eyebrows at his behavior. She was already drunk; another drink wouldn’t make her any good.

In a minute, the bartender placed two cranberry vodkas on the counter, putting it on the man’s tab. At first, I wanted to mind my own business and not attract any unnecessary attention. However, when I noticed the man slipping something into the woman’s drink, I knew I needed to intervene. He wanted to hurt her, and I just couldn’t let that happen.

Sighing, I jumped off the barstool and marched to the bathroom, wanting to warn her. Thankfully, she was standing in front of the mirrors, washing her hands when I found her.

Casually, I stopped next to her and pulled out my lipstick to reapply it.

“Are you alright?” I asked her, watching her wobble in her ridiculously high stilettos. She was barely standing on her feet – she was in no condition to have yet another drink, let alone a drink spiked with some type of drug.

“I feel funny. I had one drink, yet I feel like I had five,” the woman commented, placing her purse next to the basin, searching for cosmetics to touch up her make-up. “It must be because I barely ate today, I was so stressed about this date, so I only had breakfast,” she added, but it didn’t calm me. If anything, it made me even more alert.

“Is it your first date with him?” I inquired, trying not to sound intrusive. She seemed a bit naïve, and I wanted to look out for her. If I could prevent her from getting hurt, I had to try.

“Yeah, he asked me out yesterday in a coffee shop next to my building. He’s so romantic,” the woman explained dreamily, and I refrained from groaning in distaste. What kind of dudes did she date in the past to think this guy was romantic?

That was all I needed to know to figure out that he just wanted to get laid and toss her aside. He just wanted to use her body without even earning her consent. No matter how good looking he was – it was unjustifiable. I couldn’t let her go to him and become a victim. I had to try and prevent her from getting hurt.

“Are you sure you want to go back to him in this state? If I were you, I’d reschedule,” I commented, trying to talk her out of continuing this date.

“What is your problem?” asked she, her tone laced with anger and irritation. “I’m on a date, and you keep ruining it. What’s your deal?”

Wow, that was rude.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She couldn’t be for real, right?

“Listen–” I started, trying to defend my case, but she, once again, interjected me.

“No, you listen! I’m on a date with his hot man. You may try your luck somewhere else. I can bet you’ll find someone willing to fuck you but buzz off from me, and my man,” she hissed, and I just blinked a couple times, trying to comprehend what just happened. Though she was annoying the hell out of me, I still had to help her. Perhaps she didn’t fully deserve my saving, but I had to try. Friends or enemies, she didn’t merit to be taken advantage of.

Trying to flee the scene, she grabbed her purse and turned around to storm out of the bathroom. Fortunately, I managed to wrap my hand around her wrist before she made her way to the doors.

“Get a grip, woman!” I shouted at her, hoping she would listen to my loud voice – especially when she didn’t seem to particularly enjoy my calm and worried tone. “He roofied your drink and wants to take advantage of you. You better get yourself a ride home and leave.”

She looked at me, and I looked at her, having an intense stare contest. She must’ve been weighing her options before she tore her arm from my grasp.

“I can take care of myself,” she added before leaving the bathroom.

I tried, I told myself, but it still made me uneasy. She didn’t listen to my warnings, and she was about to get hurt, and it made me feel remorseful. I didn’t do my best. I still could prevent her from getting assaulted.

Heaving a deep sigh, I left the bathroom, determined to stop the man from drugging her even if I had to swallow the poison myself.

They were sitting by the bar as earlier. She was laughing at his joke, and he had his hand on her thigh. They seemed comfortable, but I knew enough to realize it was superficial.

Slowly, I approached them, stumbling over my legs, pretending to be shitfaced drunk. Once the drink was within my reach, I fake-tripped, spilling the alcohol on the man’s laps.

“You bitch,” he yelled in absolute anger. Apparently, he didn’t like it when his plan fell through. “Look what you’ve done!” He jumped to his feet, trying to wipe off his jeans.

Unfortunately, his furious outburst brought lots of attention to us. Instinctively, I turned to look at Taeyong. He was staring at me, mouthing, get out.

It was my much-awaited cue, so I gave this gross man some half-ass apology and left the club without any second thoughts. I had enough of this drama; I’d rather wait for them in the car.

Patiently, I waited for Taeyong and Ten to return. Time flew by quickly as I browsed my social media feed, forwarding the funniest memes to Doyoung.

Maybe thirty minutes later, Taeyong knocked on the window, wanting me to open the trunk. Two huge men with heavy leather jackets and gold chains around their necks threw four enormous black bags into the trunk, shutting it close with a loud thud.

I had no idea what the cargo was, but it didn’t sit right with me. Whatever it was, it must’ve been illegal, and it made me jumpy.

“What’s in the bags?” I asked carelessly, regretting my questing the second it left my mouth.

“Do you really want to know?” Taeyong challenged, and I vigorously shook my head in firm denial. Chuckling, he added, “Just samples.”

“Right,” I answered, dismissing the topic. Quickly, I turned on the engine and drove away, wanting to get back to the mansion as fast as it was lawfully possible.

Unfortunately, not talking about the cargo didn’t make me stop thinking about what’s inside the bags. Taeyong’s business has many branches, varying in dozens of illegal activities. Regardless of what was sitting in the trunk, we would all go to prison if caught.

“What kind of trouble did you cause when I specifically requested you didn’t?” Taeyong asked somewhat throughout the ride. His hands were squeezed in fists, resting on his thighs as he waited for my answer.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I genuinely apologized before I began pleading my case. Hopefully, with proper justification for my actions, Taeyong would understand. He was a human, after all. “I just couldn’t stay idle and watch this nightmare unfold in front of me. I had to help this girl out, even though she didn’t seem to appreciate it."

“Jaehyun was right about you,” Taeyong whispered mysteriously, making me raise an eyebrow in confusion. What kind of prejudice Jaehyun held against me? “You’re way too nice for this job,” he added, and I took a deep sigh, expecting a much worse response.

Though it pained me, it was understandable that being good was a bad thing in this line of business. Typically, I’d be glad to hear such a compliment, but under these circumstances, it made me upset. I wasn’t a saint, but I had some sort of a moral backbone.

“I wouldn’t necessarily put it that way,” I trailed off, thinking of the best way to present my abilities in the most fitting way.

“It was admirable if you want some second-hand opinion,” Ten interjected, pretty amazed with my attitude. “You should’ve punched him in the face, though. I’d love to see that,” he added, and I giggled, picturing my fist colliding against his jaw.

That would be a very nice picture.

“Can you drop me off at the Moonlight club? I’d like to meet with a friend of mine if that’s not a problem?” Ten asked, and I hummed in agreement, punching the club location into a navigation system. It was on our way, so it really wasn’t a nuisance.

“Sure thing,” I added, returning my focus on driving. Unfortunately, as soon as I shifted my attention to the front of our lane, I saw a car overtaking the Hummer. A second later, it flashed red and blue lights right, mentioning for me to stop the vehicle on the side of the road.

The police cruiser.

FUCK.

It was impossible. After doing so much illegal stuff, it was ironic to get caught when properly driving. It was a bad sign, and in a matter of seconds, I turned into an anxious ball of stress.

What a lame way to the end of my career!

OK, you gotta keep calm. Normal women can bullshit their way out of getting a ticket, so you can do it, too! I tried to psych myself up, though it didn’t help much. My mouth was still dry, and my hands were all sweaty. They’re about to discover I’m hiding some illegal stuff in the trunk. I couldn’t go to prison – orange is definitely NOT the new black.

“You can do it, doll. Don’t lose your cool,” Taeyong whispered, giving me an encouraging squeeze on the knee. Admittedly, it didn’t work.

“Yeah, don’t even think of all the drugs we have the trunk stocked up with,” Ten added, and I angrily turned back to yell at him for giving me info that I did not want nor need.

“Why would you say that?!” I shouted, trying to collect my thoughts. Cool, cool, cool, cool. You got this. You’ve survived worse. “If we make out of this alive, I’m gonna kill you,” I warned Ten before I straightened my backs, rolling down the window for the policeman who approached the vehicle.

“Good evening, Mr. Officer,” I beamed innocently, trying to read the policeman’s surname off the uniform, yet in vain. “I didn’t go too fast, did I?” I asked, batting my eyelashes in a poor attempt at flirtation.

Yikes, so much cringe!

“Driving license and vehicle registration certificate,” said the police officer coldly, completely ignoring my pathetic wooing. Unwillingly, I handed him the documents, praying to all the gods for him not to investigate the trunk. “Please, step out of the vehicle,” he added, and I followed his orders, ready to cooperate if he was willing to overlook the car inspection.

Obediently, I entered the backseat of the police cruiser, awaiting the interrogation.

“I’m an experienced driver. Did I make a mistake?” I inquired, waiting for them to give me the reason for pulling me over. My driving skills are mastered to perfection. I was really interested in what lame-ass excuse they were about to conjure to give me a ticket to fund the city’s budget.

“It’s just a routine checkup,” one police officer spoke dismissively, checking my data in their database. “All cops were asked to do routine checkups. Apparently, tonight some gang was doing drug drop-off, yet we stopped dozens of suspicious cars, and nothing came out of it. It must’ve been a false lead.”

What the fuck?

How, on Earth, did the police find out about this? Even I, who was a part of the drop-off, didn’t know what was inside the bags until two minutes ago. Was there a mole in the organization? Or maybe the police sent an undercover agent?

Thoughts were running through my head at a ridiculous speed, my gears were shifting swiftly as I tried to make any connection. Unfortunately, I didn’t connect shit. One thing was sure, though. If, by any chance, they let me go without investigating the car, Taeyong wouldn’t be thrilled to hear the news.

“Really? Drugs? And here I thought I live in the safe neighborhood,” I commented, feigning my cluelessness. Surprise, surprise, it actually sounded natural. Almost as if I was born to be a benighted dumb-dumb. “You better catch those smugglers.”

“We’re doing our best, miss,” the other policeman chimed in, and I tried my best not to roll my eyes at his for this evident negligence. They had culprits right under their nose, and it seemed they did not suspect me.

How could a dumb chick like me be involved in such a shady operation, am I right?

As much as I felt the urge to prove them wrong, I decided not to. As tempting as it was, it was extremely unbeneficial. I just wanted to get the hell out of the cruiser, drop the guys at Taeyong’s mansion, get my paycheck, and go home.

“Where were you going at such a late hour, miss?” The policeman asked, handing me back my documents after not finding anything worth further investigation.

“My friends were at the bachelor party in the club outside the capital, and they got really drunk, so I drove all the way there to pick them up,” I explained, though I got a feeling they weren’t listening to what I was saying.

“Uh-huh,” one of them muttered, quickly writing a messy note of the routine checkup, handing me back my documents. “That would be all, thank you for your cooperation,” the cop added, and I politely smiled, bolting out of the cruiser.

Phew!

Having fastened my seatbelts, I drove away. I just wanted to get the hell away from them, hoping they wouldn’t change their mind and order a thorough vehicle inspection. Taeyong and Ten must’ve had a dozen questions; however, I just turned up the volume of the radio, ignoring their concerned glances.

“Get out,” I barked when I abruptly stopped by the Midnight club. Perhaps it was rude, but I didn’t care. I’ve had a very stressful night, and politeness wasn’t on my mind.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow; good luck with miss grumpy,” Ten spoke before he jumped out of the vehicle, almost as if he was afraid I was going to talk back to him.

“What’s with the attitude?” Taeyong casually asked, and I sighed, trying to calm myself down. “I get you’re stressed, but you shouldn’t take your annoyance on us. Besides, if you’ve forgotten, let me remind you. I’m your boss, and Ten is my close associate.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized before I revealed what exactly happened in the police car. Truth to be told, Taeyong didn’t seem particularly surprised.

“That’s not the worst thing I’ve heard today,” Taeyong whispered, looking at my profile. “Jungwoo from Busan division called me today. Some of Yuta’s men crossed the border. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate our little prank,” he explained, and I grew speechless.

Karma was getting back at me.

Why do actions have consequences?

“That’s not good,” I answered, unable to form a coherent response. I was royally screwed, yet at the time, I was overwhelmed by the revelation.

Why couldn’t I just wait for Taeyong to put an ad on Craigslist, for fuck’s sake?

“Hey, look at me,” Taeyong ordered, and I obediently tore my eyes off the road to gaze into his eyes. “Don’t think too much about it; it’ll be fine,” Taeyong promised, yet his words didn’t make me feel assured. “You’re one of us; we’ll protect you.”

“You better,” I added, clutching my palms around the steering wheel in yet another stress-fuelled episode. There better be a professional health care program for Taeyong’s employees. Otherwise, I may need a therapist. Stress factors don’t stop coming, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to carry on much longer.

“Do you want to hang out?” Taeyong inquired, taking me by surprise. He, the mafia boss, wanted to spend some time with such a peasant like myself. That concept was wild, and it actually made me wonder. I couldn’t really say no. Some people would die to get a chance to wander around his big-ass mansion with Taeyong himself. “We can order some take out and just chill. What do you think?”

“I’d love that.”

***

Since the police knew the registration number, Taeyong ordered me to park the vehicle in a large garage under his majestic mansion. Having turned off the engine, we got out of the car, and I handed him the keys, lifting some heft off my shoulders. It was a nice car, but the memories it held were terrible. I’d rather forget that I even drove that thing.

“Give me a sec,” Taeyong said, taking a handful of samples, stuffing his pocket with them.

“What are these exactly?” Having creased my forehead in contemplation, I asked.

“These? Oh, it’s a new type of drug. It’s called the punch,” Taeyong explained, showing me a single dose of the drag. It was nicely wrapped like candy, and inside it looked like a mint. “It’s like LSD had a baby with shrooms,” he commented casually, winking at me. “And it tastes like bubblegum; you want to try some? The first batch is in the house.”

“Maybe later,” I answered dismissively, not really keen on having my first trip with Taeyong. But on the other hand, who was a better candidate to do drugs with? “I’d rather have some take out first if that’s not a problem,” I added, hoping he wouldn’t press me into doing anything out of my comfort zone. Not that I expected Taeyong to force me to do things against my will. I didn’t. After all, he was a really considerate man.

“Sure, what cuisine are you craving? I’m thinking… maybe something spicy. How about Mexican?” Taeyong proposed, and I vigorously nodded. Either he was my soulmate or really was able to read minds. “I’ll order something delicious.”

This time around, his mansion felt odd.

It was still majestic and glamorous, yet at the same, it was quiet. Back then, it was packed with Taeyong’s minions, but right now, they were in hiding, giving Taeyong his much-needed privacy. Following behind him, roaming around the spacious corridors felt like being guided through a museum during a private tour.

Once settled in the day room, Taeyong walked up to the bar, brought two glasses and a bottle of tequila, and set them on the coffee table.

“You want some? You look like you need a glass or two,” Taeyong offered upon seeing me all tensed up and anxious on the leather couch, nervously scanning the room.

“I’d rather hear some good news, but the alcohol will do,” I answered, reaching for the glass, downing it in one go, only to regret it a second later. “Pour me another one.”

“Take it easy,” Taeyong suggested, yet obediently filled my glass before turning on music, letting me know what type of songs he was into. Apparently, for late night’s chilling EDM hits were his to-go playlist.

With some liquid courage, it was easier to relax at Taeyong’s place. I took off my shoes and stretched on the sofa comfortably, all unpleasant and stressful occurrences slowly fading away. Unfortunately, these feelings were about to come back in the morning.

Twenty minutes later, the food was delivered, and it was absolutely mouthwatering. Fresh corn tortillas, spicy ground beef with a ridiculous amount of cheese made a perfect combination, tasting orgasmic. If I had less self-control, I’d moan at the foodporn laid out on the table for us to devour.

“So… how did the meeting go? Was it a success, or did I fuck it up with my shenanigans at the bar?” I inquired, narrowing my eyes, carefully watching his reaction.

If I could make out an emotion that his eyes were conveying, it was amusement.

“We will see,” Taeyong whispered, reaching into his pocket, playing with a single sample in his hands. “I only distribute the goodies. I gotta check first if this innovation is worth my time,” he added before popping the substance into his mouth like candy. “Is ‘no’ your definite answer?” Taeyong questioned, looking like a cute innocent hamster with the pill dissolving against the inside of his left cheek.

After a few tequila shots and delicious Mexican take out, I was much braver. However, at the same time, I became a way less assertive version of myself. Consenting to his kind proposition was too easy. Besides, what’s the worst thing that could happen? His mansion’s probably the safest place in the country.

“Fine, gimme,” I gave up, reaching out for the pill.

At first, nothing happened. A few minutes later, still nothing, and I even began to think Taeyong gave me a sample from a faulty batch. It was until it hit me good.

The couch melted like milk chocolate swallowing me in its soft waves before I crashed through the floor of nonexistent colors splashes.

#taeyong smut #nct smut #neosmutcollective #nct angst #taeyong angst #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct #get in loser #taeyong fanfic #nct fanfic #taeyong fanfiction #nct fanfiction

[yandere-society]

Sugar Rush

Synopsis: You thought the breakup had gone well, but your ex-girlfriend Yoonji didn’t seem to get the message. When you go out with friends to party on Halloween night, you encounter Yoonji in an unexpected way – and you discover just how far she’ll go to get you back.  

Pairing: Min Yoonji x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Yandere themes, blood/mentions of blood, stalking, restraints, safeword violation, torture, suicide mention, gore

Headline: Woman In Sumo Wrestler Suit Assaulted Ex-Girlfriend In Gay Pub After She Waved At Man Dressed As A Snickers Bar

Admin: @psycho-slytherin​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Ooh – gah!”

“Y/n?” Mia pokes her head into the kitchen. Her pupils are pure black, and she looks to be crying blood. “What happened?”

“Ugh, I think my mom sent me these roses and I pricked myself on a thorn,” you reply, sucking on your bleeding finger irritably. You lay down the card that came with the bouquet, which reads See you soon! “You look great.”

“Thanks! I’m a student.” Mia steps forward to reveal a school uniform shirt, sweatpants, and flip-flops. 

“Uh…”

“Cause I’m stu-dying, get it?”

You snort. “Very nice.”

“What are you? You haven’t changed!”

You sigh. “I don’t think I’m going to dress up.” You can’t shake Halloween’s association with her.

“What? But 66 Below has their ‘free drink for a costume’ thing going on. C’mon, why not?”

You shrug, looking at your bleeding finger. Roses always seem to have it out for you. “It was our anniversary.”

“Wait, is this about Yoonji? Y/n, you broke up with her! If you regret it so much, get back together. The girl was head over heels with you, I’m sure she’d be down.”

You shake your head. “I’m not getting back together with her. Definitely not.” You and Yoonji were together for three years, long enough that you had started wondering if it would turn into forever. As time went on, however, you began to notice unnerving little quirks in her behavior. She was scaring you, and you ended things soon after. “Besides, she was always so neurotic that I would cheat on her with a guy.”

Mia rolls her eyes. “Biphobia at its finest. Well, fuck Yoonji. It’s been months – now get dressed. It’s Halloween, and we’re going out! Besides, Aisha is meeting us there.”

You laugh. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I have an extra that I brought with me – it’s an unnecessarily sexy angel, it didn’t fit my sister. Try it!”

Angel. That was Yoonji’s name for you. You sigh, dragging yourself away from the traitorous roses and following Mia down the hall.

Soon enough, Mia is putting the final touches on your makeup. “Ooh, you’re glowing!”

“I don’t know why you sound surprised when it’s your fault,” you retort before catching a look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re wearing a white silky babydoll dress – the kind that you’d only wear in the bedroom. She’d love it. You’re sporting white fishnets and feathered wings, with a golden headband resembling a halo to complete the look. Mia has done your makeup expertly, with lots of rose and gold, so that you look perfectly angelic. You add your favorite rainbow earrings for some added pride. Still, the outfit…

“Isn’t this a little… risque?” Yoonji would never let you wear something like this out.

“I don’t want anyone else laying eyes on my angel,” she would croon in your ear. “You’re all mine. I’ll never let anyone else touch you.”

“It’s Halloween, Y/n, as long as the goods are covered you’re set.”

You peer out of the window. The sun has set, and groups of kids are out in spades for trick-or-treating. You used to love Halloween – it had always been your favorite holiday, long before you and Yoonji made it official four years ago.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

She stared at you for a long time. “Do you promise never to cheat? You’ll be loyal to me alone?”

You laughed. “Of course! I like you, I want to date you!

“In that case…” She leaned forward and kissed you. Her vampire costume meant you got fake blood all over your lips. “Happy Halloween, angel.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Mia nods. Her black contact lenses are… well, they’re not unintimidating. You’re glad to be able to spend this Halloween with her, and not worry about your ex-girlfriend.

66 Below has long been your and Mia’s favorite LGBTQ bar. With its live music, pride flags, and vintage decor, you feel as though you’re stepping into an extra-queer period piece.Yoonji never liked it; she thought it was too crowded. Tonight, almost everyone is dressed up in costume, enjoying 66 Below’s 'first drink free’ policy.

“Mia! Y/n! Over here!” Mia’s girlfriend Aisha gets your attention, waving at you from a booth. You’ve never encountered a more loving couple, and you know Mia’s planning on proposing to her soon. Aisha is dressed as… “Wait, what is she wearing?” You ask as you and Mia join her. Aisha looks like she printed a graded school paper onto white clothing, complete with red marks and typos. Over her heart is a big red F. In response to your quizzical glance, Aisha points to the F.

“Geddit? I’m a failing grade! I specifically wanted to be a final exam, but…”

You laugh. Mia and Aisha must have coordinated that. You scan the bar and note you’re not the only angel. There’s also some devils, ghosts, animals, anime characters, Iron Man, a Snickers bar, two Harry Potters, and – of course – inappropriately sexy children’s cartoon characters. You love Halloween.

“Y/n, c’mon, let’s grab drinks,” Mia says, but her eyes seem unwilling to leave Aisha’s. Their love reminds you of yours… or, what you thought was love. Towards the end of your relationship, you began to realize Yoonji’s idea of love was very different from yours.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get yours. What do you want?”

“You sure?” When you nod, Mia reels off her order. You approach the bar, smiling at your favorite bartender. “Hey, Jaewon!” 

“Do mine eyes deceive me, or is that Y/n beneath the halo?”

Jaewon pretends to be blinded. He’s dressed as what you can only assume is slutty Mario.

“Shush, you. I’ll have an IPA and a margarita, please.”

“Sure thing.”

As you’re waiting for your drinks, the person in the Snickers costume slides into the seat next to you. “Nice costume, angel.”

You stare at him, a brow raised. If you weren’t at a gay bar, you’d think he was flirting. “Thanks, Snickers.”

“Who are you here with?”

You nod at the booth, where Mia and Aisha are now kissing intensely.

“Y’all poly or are you third wheeling?”

You laugh. “The latter. I’m not the relationship type.” Not anymore. Not after you realized how you were so easily manipulated into thinking Yoonji’s behavior was love. But the way she would kiss you, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, tangling her hand in your hair…

“Yeah, I get you. Couples’ costumes are scary by default to me,” the Snickers jokes. “Perfect for Halloween. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“Y/n. Are you here with anyone?”

Namjoon glances around. “I was here with my buddy, but I think he left to fuck one of the Harry Potters. Which is funny, now that I think about it, since he was dressed as Dumbledore.”

You snort. “Oh my god. Well, if you want a group to join, I’ll be third-wheeling over there.” Jaewon reappears with your drinks and a wink.

“I might just take you up on that, angel. Happy Halloween!”

“Hey!” Mia says, finally coming up for air. Miraculously, her bloody tears have stayed put. “Who was that guy you were talking to? He seemed cute!”

“He’s probably gay,” you remind your friend. “He was sweet, though, I invited him to come over if he wanted to – his friend left him. Is that okay?”

Mia and Aisha glance at each other. “Actually, we were wondering…”

You look at the two suspiciously. “Yes?”

“There’s this event happening at 4Sooth,” Aisha says, referencing another bar downtown, “Where the best couples’ costume gets a cash prize. We were thinking… well, zombie student, failing grade…”

Oh. Why did you come here in the first place, then?

“Yeah, you guys totally have a chance!” You offer with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. “Should we go there?”

“The thing is…” Aisha looks at Mia, who shows you the event announcement on her phone.

“Well, the other prize is a night in the ‘Halloween Suite’ at the hotel next door, y’know?” Mia says quickly, a note of pleading in her voice.

Ohhhh. “Right, okay. So… I’ll just stay here, then.”

“Are you sure?” Mia asks anxiously. You can see her on the fence between guilt and excitement.

“Yeah, it’s fine!” You insist. “I’m good at making friends. Have fun!” Just because you have to be alone on Halloween, doesn’t mean Mia and Aisha can’t have a good time.

“You’re the best, Y/n, I owe you!” Mia gives you a quick kiss on each cheek before she and Aisha head out. As soon as they’re out of sight, your smile slips from your face and you sigh, nursing your beer. It’s Halloween, what would have been your and Yoonji’s fourth anniversary, and you’re alone at a bar. Pathetic. You turn to costume-watching, admiring the Big Bird, Dorthy from The Wizard of Oz, a sumo wrestler, and several queer or genderbent characters from all sorts of media.

Namjoon, the Snickers, is looking at you from his seat at the bar. He raises a quizzical brow at the now-empty booth, and you roll your eyes and shake your head in response.

He purses his lips, tipping his glass in acknowledgement.

Wonderful. A bar of candy pities me. You wave, motioning for Namjoon to come join you. You were both alone – why not?

Almost as soon as you lower your hand, several things happen at once: a blur of tan crosses your vision; you hear a loud BANG, and feel a sudden, incomprehensible, searing pain shoot through the back of your head; something warm trickles down your face; there are lips against your ear, whispering words you can’t understand; far-off shouts and screams; and the world goes dark.

“Told you that you’d cheat… you’re just a whore for them… but now you’re all mine again.”

“Mmnn…” you groan, blinking hard. Your head hurts – everything hurts. You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. You’re lying on something soft. Did you go to bed? You move to rub your temple, but your wrist is tugged back by… rope. Rope? Your eyes widen and you begin to struggle furiously against the restraints, yanking until you feel your hands are going to detach themselves. “What the fuck?” Your wrists are tied to bedposts. Shit. Were you drugged? Was it Jaewon the bartender? “HELP! Somebody! Help me!” Your shoes are gone, and – oh, no – your white dress is stained and splattered with blood. Yours? When you try to pull yourself up, your vision floats before you. You can feel warm blood trickling down your head, tickling your scalp. You fall back onto the pillow, trying to force your vision to focus. “Help me…”

Suddenly, you hear heavy footsteps, and a voice that makes you freeze.

“Looks like I nabbed myself a pretty little angel. Talk about fallen from grace, right?”

Your cries for help freeze in your throat. “Yoonji?”

And in walks your ex-girlfriend, the blow-up sumo wrestling suit deflating around her. That flash of tan… so she was there, at 66 Below. Her pristine black bob hasn’t changed in the last few months, and her makeup is perfectly done. As the suit empties, she steps out of it, wearing her favorite outfit of black tights and skirt with a cream blouse.

“Let me go,” you croak. Your heart feels like it’s being squeezed in her fist. Your fighting spirit seems to have evaporated in the face of the woman you once loved. It doesn’t make sense… or does it make too much sense? You knew she was possessive – it’s why you ended things. But this? “Yoonji… please. Please.”

Yoonji pretends not to hear you, instead walking around the bed to inspect your restraints. Of course, now that you’ve collected yourself, you recognize her bedroom. In fact, it’s not your first time being tied to these same bedposts.

“Red. Yoonji, please, red,” you try desperately, hoping the safeword might make her relent. For a moment, her cool expression falters. It’s quickly replaced with raw fury.

“You want to try calling red?” She snarls, looking right at you. “You cheated on me. You broke up with me!”

“I never cheated!” You cry, kicking out at her in vain. “You always thought I was cheating on you – I didn’t do anything!”

“I saw you,” she replies, raising a hand and bringing it down hard on your cheek. Your head jerks to the side and you can taste blood. Your face is on fire, it must be, how can it hurt so badly? “It’s our anniversary. I saw you wave at that candy bar.” Another slap leaves your jaw aching. “Fucking whore, do you flirt with every man you see? Girls like you can never be faithful.”

“We’re not together anymore!” You yell, pulling hard on the ropes. They’re much stronger and more coarse than any Yoonji has used with you before, and you bite back a yelp of pain at the rope burn. Your head hurts so much, and your chest is heaving with anxiety. Is she going to kill you? “You’re insane. Let me go – they’ll find out I’m gone. They’ll call the police.” After you and Yoonji broke up, you moved in with Mia. Surely she’ll be concerned when you don’t show up.

Yoonji laughs softly. It’s the way she would laugh when she had a secret. “Well… you did text your housemate to tell her you were going home with the Snickers bar. She’s not expecting you – and that contest is going to keep her at the hotel all night anyways.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. How does she know? “What text? Where’s my phone?”

Yoonji lazily fishes your phone from her pocket. “You really haven’t changed your password?”

“Give that back! Let me go!” You twist your hips and kick hard in her direction, scoring a tiny victory when your phone goes flying from Yoonji’s hand. In the split second that she’s leaned over to retrieve it, you try to see if you can feel any slack at all in the ropes binding your wrists. Yes! There’s something. Maybe your situation isn’t hopeless after all.

Your spirits fall by the wayside when you see Yoonji rise with a terrifying smile on her face. “What a frisky angel, you like to kick, don’t you? Maybe I should tie those lovely legs too.”

“No- don’t touch me! Yoonji, c’mon…” your voice breaks when you see her pull a length of rope from her closet. “W-what are you going to do with me?”

“What am I going to do with you? Exactly what I’ve always wanted to. I’m going to make sure no one else will ever touch you again. You’re mine, angel, you always have been.” Yoonji reaches for your legs and you kick wildly, desperate to escape. Your heart feels like a racehorse in your chest, and sheer adrenaline numbs the throbbing pain in your head.

“Stop… struggling!” Yoonji hisses furiously as she makes a grab for your foot. “Ungrateful bitch. Why are you always trying to get away from me? All I did was love you!”

Now. You slam your heel into her chin, and her head snaps upward with the force of your kick.

For a second you feel like she’s about to crumple to the ground, but instead she lowers her gaze to stare into your soul once more.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Yoonji massages her jaw, and when she speaks, blood drips from between her lips. She begins to pace around the bed, avoiding your kicks. “Bad angel… maybe you’re just a devil in disguise, huh? I always knew you were a dirty fucking liar. And you didn’t even say thank you for the roses.”

The roses? Your eyes widen. See you soon. They were from her? “Fuck you,” You say in response, surreptitiously tugging and relaxing the slack on your right hand’s rope. “I never cheated. You were just scared that I could love men and women. Well, guess what? I loved you! For years, until I realized you never loved me back.”

“What?” You see horror cloud Yoonji’s face. “You fucking bitch. ALL I did was love you!”

You shake your head, determined to keep her talking. She’s out of range of your kicks for now. If you could just get your hands free…

You feel suddenly woozy. Are there two… no, three Yoonjis? Shit. Now is not the time for a concussion.

“You never loved me. You were obsessed and insane. Don’t you hear yourself?” You say, your volume increasing. You know the walls are well-insulated, but she’s still in an apartment complex. Maybe the neighbors will hear? Another tug on the rope. You twist your wrist, and for a second you can feel it loosening. “You only wanted me so that no one else could have me!”

“You’re lying.” Maybe it’s a reflection of your bloody dress, or the blood dripping from her mouth, but for a second her eyes seem to shine red.

You shake your head. You’ve almost got a hand free. “You’re the one who’s lying, Yoonji. You’re lying to yourself.” Dizzy again. “You – ngh – you can just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.” Almost got a hand free. How long has it been?

Suddenly Yoonji is looming over you. “Ah, but you forgot.” She spits at you, and a mouthful of scarlet blood hits the white pillowcase. Some of it splatters on your cheek. You keep tugging at the tie around your left hand. It’s much tighter than your right. She’s rummaging in her bedside drawer, and that look in her eyes… you’re scared. “I might’ve let an angel go, but you decided you’re not an angel. You’re a devil. And where do devils belong?”

“Uh…”

“That’s right.” Yoonji shows you what she’s retrieved: a lighter. She walks around the bed to the bottom right corner of the duvet. “Devils like you should stay in hell.”

“Yoonji. Yoonji, what are you –” She lowers the lighter to the duvet, and you see the cloth begin to smoke before a small flame forms on the bed, flickering but gaining in strength. “YOONJI!”

“I told you, Y/n.” Her voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it as she wipes more blood from her chin. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”

“C’mon, please, this is too much,” you say, your voice bleeding into hysteria as you thrash around, trying to kick the burning blanket away from your body. The fire begins to grow, and in your frenzied movement you accidentally burn your foot. You jerk away, yanking at the ropes on your wrists. You’re wearing fishnet stockings – if those catch fire, it’ll travel all the way up your body in a flash. “Let me go! Let me go, you psycho!”

Yoonji makes a pouty face. “Poor baby. Let you go… or what?”

“Please!” You shriek as the fire grows, the smoke now visibly rising from the bed. “Yoonji, I’m sorry, please, please…”

“I missed hearing you beg, my love. What a delicious Halloween treat. And if you need to blame anyone…” Yoonji pauses and smiles. The blood has gotten between her teeth, giving her a terrifying undead look. “Blame that Snickers bar.”

With that, she leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Fuck. You tug furiously at your right hand, where the rope has significantly loosened. You can feel the heat from the flames, dangerously close to you. “C’mon, c’mon…” You’re not going to die here, what a terrible headline. Who would write your obituary? You fight through another wave of dizziness. “Fucking hell!” With effort that leaves your muscles trembling, you wriggle your right hand out of its ties, and it quickly flies to your other hand. Maybe you’ll survive.

Unless she locked the door. Yoonji is four floors up. From that height…

You quickly work through the knots on your left wrist, which Yoonji tied so tightly you can’t feel several of your fingers anymore. Faster. Your nails are broken from tearing at the rope, and at one point the nail on your middle finger catches and gets stuck fast in the rope. The fire has spread to the carpet, and thick, black smoke is billowing up. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for the pain – it’s nothing compared to burning alive – and yank your hand back.

“Gah!” It’s a furious pain, for so small a point. The fingernail is ripped off your finger and hangs there as your nail bed bleeds freely. You force yourself to keep moving, to undo the knot or rip the rope off completely but the pain makes it hard to breathe…  or is it the smoke quickly filling the air? With movements made jerky by panic, you at last find a loose end and pull it through the knot. The rope around your wrist loosens and you’re able to slip your hand out. You’re not going to think about the fact that you can’t feel three of your fingers or move them properly. You’re free. You look around wildly, rushing for the door. You rattle the handle, but it’s locked. You can try to kick through it? But what if Yoonji is on the other side of the door, and shoves you back into the flames? The window next to the bed is locked too. But… You bend down and, straining, lift her entire bedside nightstand up. As soon as you stand your legs wobble and threaten to collapse, and you feel blood continue to drip down your neck and back. You stumble, almost to the window, but–

“Ugh-” You lose your grip and the nightstand crashes to the floor, almost on your foot. At that moment, you’re tempted to break down completely. What if you just… gave up? If you go through the window, you’ll probably die in the fall. Through the door, if you can even kick it down, and Yoonji will surely be waiting for you. You could just stay here, where at least death is a merciful certainty.

No – what are you thinking? You have to live. If you die, Yoonji will be free, and you won’t be able to tell your story. If you die now… she wins.

You adjust your stance and, arms trembling, lift the nightstand once more. The air is getting harder to breathe, you don’t know how much longer you have. You heave the nightstand at the window and it crashes straight through the glass, smashing down onto the street four stories below. Wait – the street. It must only be a little past midnight, because you can see some teens and adults still walking the street in costume. Passersby!

“HELP!” You shriek, waving your hand. You’re cut and bleeding in several places from flying glass, and you surely look fit for Halloween.

Wait. Hang on. One of the adults laughs and points up at you. “Great costume!” he yells.

“No, no, no…” the smoke is getting thicker, the fire closer. “Please- please help!” What you need to be a strong yell comes out a broken sob. “There’s a fire! Please help me!”

Two groups seem to realize it’s not just a Halloween prank, and you see some people whip out their phones to call the police. Several more rush forward, but clearly have no plan other than to stand beneath the window.

The police will take too long. You blink through the smoke, which is now visible through the window. You will not burn alive. And you won’t let Yoonji walk free, not after this. You brush the broken glass away from the windowsill and carefully step onto the ledge, a bleeding angel in the night. Your wings and white dress glow in such contrast to the walls that it looks like you’re flying.

You hear gasps and screams, and a “Don’t jump!”

Idiot. As though you have a choice. No, you only have one choice left, and you’re making it count. “My name is Y/n L/n,” You yell, forcing down a smoky cough, “And the person who killed me is Min Yoonji!”

No time to think. You step forward off the ledge, closing your eyes. Forty feet isn’t that far to fall, maybe you’ll make it.

Fucking Snickers bar.

#yandere #yandere bts #bts #yoongi #suga #yandere!yoongi #bts genderbend #halloween event #yandere-society #yandere x reader #bts halloween fic #gxg #wlw #bts gxg #yandere!suga #yandere!yoongi x reader #bangtan

[shhhlikeme]

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #11:

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A/N: welcome to the final post tonight!!!!!! Thanks for staying for this marathon everybody🥱🖤 I told y’all to get ready right? Lehgo:

TABLE OF CONTENTS

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A 1-Year Anniversary For The Books 😳....🎡❄️🌃

over the next 6 months, you and Aone have had a remarkable relationship 💗

He’s beyond caring, attentive and sweet to you: even when you are moody on your period and dont want to talk to him he would drop off a basket at your house filled with a heating pad, your favourite treats, DVDs of your favourite movies and a note that explained how he felt about you

Your sex life was amazing, sex was insanely passionate and few and far between because you were both busy + Aone wanted you to know he wasn’t here for sex, though he loved it, of course

Takanobu listened to every story of yours, filled in at your cheer practices when you needed him, brought your team to competitions whenever some people didn’t have rides, and he attended the popular kids parties with you and let you do your own thing...

In addition, of course he was the best tutor you’ve ever had, letting you know before you started that you weren’t allowed to mess with his hormones to get out of it:

“Y/N. we have to study. No seduction tricks. They’re not fair.”

“Okay—!” You smiled.

“No cute-duction tricks either.”

You pouted.

“Want me to leave?” He asked, getting bold because he knew you were getting clingy, and even though he’d love to be balls deep between your heavenly legs, School came first. He needed you to graduate with him. It wasn’t an option.

“No no no baby please I’m sorry.” You pleaded.

He kissed your cheek. “Good.”

you attended baby’s intense volleyball games, so you saw his losses and it broke your heart

But you knew just how to comfort him: have him lay his head on you as you stroked his hair....give him lots of kisses and go to the pet store and spend hours the turtle section 💕

You got super close to his friends which was obviously incredible to Aone

And he’d been trying to get you to meet his family for a while, but you were too nervous

One day at the movies when Koganegawa was complaining yet again about how much his parents the other 2 members of the iron wall treated him like a baby, you interjected in the line for tickets. Aone had his arms around you from behind, making you feel safe

“Hey, wait a second. If Aone is ‘mom’ and Futakuchi is ‘dad,’ what does that make me???” You whined.

Kanji looked down at you like that was the most obvious question in the world. “You’re the hot side chick that Aone cheated on Futakuchi-senpai with.”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me—“

“Wrong.” Aone stated, glaring at Kanji. “Don’t ever associate cheating with me and Y/N. I would NEVER.”

Futakuchi rolled his eyes. “We know. Learn to take a joke,”

You turned around in Aone’s arms and got on your toes straining for a kiss. Aone smiled and leaned down to press his lips on yours. He tried to pull away but you held onto the collar of his hoodie and pulled him down again, prohibiting him from ending the kiss.

“Y/N, you better keep the same energy.” Futakuchi mumbled under his breath, walking forward as the line moved. “If my best friend ends up heartbroken I know someone else’s Cheer captain best friend who can end up being hurt just as bad in return🙃..........” he sung.

Without breaking your fantastic kiss, you stuck out your foot in the direction you knew Kenji was walking, making him trip.

“Ouch, fuck! Why do you invite her, Aone-san?!”

You smiled into the kiss.

Tbh: your relationship was..........perfect💘

........too perfect, you sometimes thought.

It kept you up at night sometimes .... the fact that you couldn’t really pin point anything wrong with him , even months later

How is it possible that while all your friends went through trials and tribulations.....ups and downs in their relationships and crushes ... and weird squares (*cough cough* Kenji, Katana, Koganegawa, Kusa 🤧 *cough cough*....but that’s for another outtake time) while you didn’t have to endure anything

Aone was protecting you from going through any pain . Proving to you his worth

Your boyfriend surprised you everyday making you happier than the last

Not to mention you have an adoptive son named Perdu that you adore 🐢💚

But you couldn’t shake the feeling deep within that told you that you didn’t deserve this

Yes, you have come to love Aone with all of your heart—he is literally an angel

But that conversation that Aone was so reluctant to have 6 months ago about how much he pined after you........it really affected you in various ways....

For one thing, why did someone so beautiful and pure and perfect have to fall for someone like you?

You had faults. You didn’t even notice him for years while he suffered in silence in the background, for God’s sake

It was as if, only after he defended you against the Class Snitch and did something for you, that’s when you noticed him—and then he just jumped at the opportunity

You could’ve played him, used him, and you’re pretty sure that he would let you. 😞

He was Not realizing how selfish the whole thing seemed

And then there’s the whole fact that Aone has liked you for 2 years..... and no one else? Even when you didn’t notice him?

Yeah, you couldn’t even lie about that one to yourself. He really only liked you and only had eyes for you. Even though you hadn’t even known he was even an option for you.

It broke your heart—

Yes, you loved him now.

But that conversation 6 months ago...... it made you understand how much of an amazing, absolutely unbelievable human being he is, even before you two started dating = you haven’t been able to shake this feeling of unfairness....

The feeling that you do not deserve him

Maybe you wanted him for the sex that felt so good it made you cry every time?

Or all the things he does for you because he was so whipped?

Meanwhile he endured relentless cockteasing from you because he tried not to give into his urge so you wouldn’t think he wanted you for that ...always putting you first..... what hormonal male DOES that?

He’s perfect

But Maybe that was the big pull...you know?

perhaps it was just a pull and this isn’t how it is supposed to be

Aone deserves someone as amazing and selfless as him, no?

What if he deserved better? As long as you were in the way he’d only accept you and shut out any girl who could be even better for him.

A girl that wouldn’t have ignored him for 2 years .

When you started expressing your concerns, Katana, your best friend knew this point would come.

“Do not self destruct, Y/N. Just because you get scared when y’all are getting serious. That man is crazy about you.” Katana pleaded with you at your locker one day as you shuffled through your messy locker.

“I’m not self destructing, and I know he is..... but maybe that’s the problem? I get a perfect boyfriend and what does Aone get? I just hope that this is, a fair transaction in the Universe.....”

“You love that man too. I know you do! Besides, everyone can see the way his entire demeanour has lit up and changed since you two got together. He’s like a new person and it’s almost been a whole year.... look at him.”

You found your pencil case and closed your locker, looking over in the direction Katana called your attention to. Aone was talking to Koganegawa and Kusa, laughing loudly...something no one had ever seen him do a year before now. Your heart sunk because you were the cause of that happiness. He was a new man, and he was so happy to be with you. It made your heart hurt.

Aone glanced over in your direction just then, making eye contact with you and instantly smiling brightly. He said some form of goodbye to his friends like he always did when he spotted you, dropping everything to greet you and hold your books.

What made you so special... to deserve such a man?

If you asked Aone, he’d have a list of ways he could answer that question, but, for you, you forced yourself to believe he was just taken away with your looks....and that he just convinced himself he liked you deeper because of how pretty you were. He loves sex but tries not to have it, maybe it’s because you’d catch on to him being like every other guy that just wants you and the rest of the cheerleaders for your bodies? I mean, even his best friend Futakuchi is like that!

No, he was a terrible liar.

Aone is gorgeous, tall, muscular, handsome....... girl after girl check him out and want him. Maybe one of them deserved him more than you do....

Thoughts like that whirled through your mind all the time from summer to winter...

Tonight, on the night of your 1 year anniversary, it was no different. Aone had made it clear for months to his team that he wouldn’t be attending practice on this date

🥺

Instead, he treated you to a luxurious dinner on a yacht and then you both went one of the highest Ferris wheels in the world that gave a great view of the city night lights of Japan:

It was so romantic, and Aone was just the happiest man on earth holding you closer as you leaned into his side because you loved Ferris wheels but you were chilly in this temperature.

Your boyfriend pulled your hat down for you so it was covering your ears

He took your hands in his and blew hot air on them to keep you warm, spreading the heated blanket he’d bought so it covered more of you than him.

“Still cold? Want my jacket?”

“I’m good.” You grinned.

His heart warmed.

“Y/N.”

You looked up at your boyfriend, hearing the sudden change to seriousness in his tone. Aone sported that blush that he had the first time you’d kissed him on the cheek. He was still nervous around you even after an entire year and it had to do with his strong feelings of love toward you. He was sure they’d never go away.

Takanobu dug into his pocket and pulled out two small individually wrapped boxes. One square and one rectangular. The silver boxes were wrapped in little yellow bows, yellow-your favourite colour.

“More gifts, Aone?” You asked softly, you couldn’t help but frown. He was always spoiling you beyond belief. “You promised the dinner was your only gift,”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Happy 1-year anniversary. You make me so happy and I really hope you’ll be so kind as to bless me with more years.”

You took off your mittens and took the boxes from him, your stomach in knots the entire time.

You felt so different. Your heart hurt.

You placed the boxes in your lap and Aone tried not to smile. You delicately untied both bows, removing the lids before gasping.

“Aone..........” you said quietly. “Oh, Aone, they are beautiful.”

Mountain man smiled. “You don’t have to wear them.....I just really wanted to gift them to you because—“

You interrupted him. “You don’t think I’d wear them?” You asked, hurt. Hurt for him because you could tell that he still felt that you were too good to be true.

“Well the promise ring m-might be too flashy, or the turtle might be seen as a little juvenile by your teammates, so—“

That did it.

Your heart broke.

It couldn’t be any more clear now.

You didn’t deserve this man.

“Aone.” Your voice cracked as you spoke. You willed yourself not to cry.

But this time it wasn’t tears of joy that almost fell the day he confessed, these were the truest of all types tears..... tears of sorrow.

Aone leaned down and brushed your hair out of your face so he could see your face. “Y/N? What’s wrong? I-I can always return them if you don’t like them.... it-it’s not a problem in the slightest—“

“—We need to break up, Aone.”

Freezing, Takanobu thought he hadn’t heard that.

He paused for a good ten seconds.

“W-what?” He asked, his voice cracking.

You refused to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you could say without bursting into tears. “I can explain more on a later date, but I’ve thought about it for a while, and that’s my decision.”

Aone’s heart shattered, instantly feeling like the world had been turned upside down on him. I mean sure, Aone thought maybe one day you’d realize you deserved better—but that’s why he spent every day devoting his time to treating you well so maybe you’d choose him.

He guessed he hadn’t been trying hard enough.

“I-is it something I did?” He took a deep breath. “Something I can change? Please,”

You shook your head, feeling the cold breeze of this winter night in your core. “Nothing you did. You’re amazing, Aone-san.“

“The-Then can you please reconsider—“

“No,” you choked. “Can we get off now? Please?”

Always listening to you, Aone shakingly pressed the button that let the Ferris Wheel operator know you wanted one final spin.

Which meant Aone had about 1 minute to change your mind while his whole world fell apart. He felt dizzy. He didn’t even know how he was still functioning, running on pure adrenaline, no doubt. He felt like this was another dream—no, a nightmare.

“If-if it’s something I did, Y/N, I sincerely apologize—“ He felt stupid to think you were actually enjoying yourself in a relationship with him.

You looked out into the skyline, directing your attention to the Japan night lights. The cold air quickly dried the single tear that escaped your eye.

“It’s nothing you did............” yet. Not until you realize you deserve so much better, You wanted to say.

“Then can I have one more chance? Please?”

Your boyfriend....no, ex-boyfriend threw everything he’s every heard from Futakuchi about being cool around his crush and begged for you. You were basically his world, the reason he’s truly lived a life of happiness and not just remained quiet and stoic like he used to be before you entered his life.

Aone stayed silent for a second and raked his brain for things he might have done to upset you. He couldn’t find one, but you wouldn’t do this for no reason, so he hated himself for not figuring it out.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

All too soon, the ride came to an end and you handed the gifts back to him before quickly scrambling out of the Ferris wheel.

Aone took a second to stare at the necklace and ring before stumbling out after you, feeling like there was an extra thousand pounds on his chest as you walked away from him in the dark night. You two were in the empty parking lot of the Ferris wheel.

“Y/N..... at least let me drive you home!” He yelled, dropping the heated blanket and gifts on the snow. He was in so much pain he couldn’t hold onto anything.

“I texted Kusa. She’s coming.” You called back, not daring to turn around because if you did you would just jump into his arms.

Aone couldn’t stop the tears that welled up behind his eyes. He’d never felt this level of pain before. He would choose to endure going through the pain of losing his last volleyball game in 3rd year everyday if it meant he didn’t have to feel what he was feeling now.

Before he started crying—something he hasn’t done since he was maybe 7 years old—Aone ran over to you, stepping in front of you to beg one last time.

“Y/N. Can I at least still be in your life? As fr-friends, even?” He asked heartbrokenly, unable to cope with not being anything to you anymore and going back to loving you from afar. He wouldn’t be able to handle that.

You walked around him, wiping your face of cold tears that luckily blended in with the pelting downfall of snow. “Okay.” You had to say, unable to refuse such a broken man. “Friends.”

The word friend stopped Aone where he stood. It was the last word he heard you say before he confessed to you at the bowling alley exactly a year ago, and now it was the last word he heard you say after you crushed his heart in front of a Ferris Wheel...

You kept walking further and further away from this mountain man that was so internally destroyed, he couldn’t take another step.

❄️ ❄️

It was 40 minutes later when Kenji had reached the empty Ferris Wheel lot. He saw a mountainous figure drenched in snow, its head slung down and shoulders dropped as if he was at a funeral. Kenji ran over and threw a blanket over his best friend’s shoulders, basically pushing him toward his car because he could barely move himself. On the drive, Kenji turned all of the hot air vents toward Aone so that the heat was blasting on him. The shell of a man just stared out the window like he had no purpose. Futakuchi couldn’t help but go in best-friend-protective-mode, tossing questions at him:

“I had to GPS your location after Kusa texted me! What happened?! Did Y/N break up with you, on your anniversary?! Really?! Ughhhh I knew this would happen. Aone, I’m here for you, big guy. Okay? It was me, you and the team before her, and it will be us after her, even though our season is over. I’m here. Okay? Can you please talk to me so that I know you’re okay?”

Aone didn’t answer his best friend that night, and Kenji knew it would be that way. As we all know, he is great at predicting things.

But what Kenji didn’t predict, however, was that it would be two and a half weeks until Aone would speak to anyone.... again.

❄️

❄️

❄️

❄️

❄️

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A/N: I cried several times. Would love to hear y’alls thoughts

Taglist: @crushzone @galagcica @chaichai-the-weeb @nairobiisqueen @bisasterrr @juminly

Outtake #12: CLICK HERE

#aone takanobu x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu stories #aone takanobu #kenji futakuchi #koganegawa kanji #hq headcanon #hq headcannons #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu headcanons #aone x reader #aone x y/n #haikyuu boys #haikyuu!! #haikyuuwritersnet #haikyuu angst #hq series

[buckybarnesthehotshot]

have you ever heard the song tryin to love you by jason aldean? it’s angsty as hell and i was wondering if you could do a request with that song. idk if you do songfics but if you do, could you please do one with bucky where the reader is trying to love him and he doesn’t believe her, so he ignores her and goes on a mission but when he comes back a few months later she’s dating someone else. it would be so amazing! thank you in advance.

trying to love you (bucky barnes x reader)

main masterlist

summary: y/n gets tired of trying to love bucky

word count: 1472

warnings: swearing, arguing, angst i guess, bucky’s an asshole in this, and this is not proofread.

A/N: hiiii i haven’t heard the song before this request but i loved writing this omg and i am so sorry it took me a while to get to this request

       Bucky and y/n had a complicated relationship—if you could even call it that. y/n, as much as Bucky wouldn’t admit it, was the light of Bucky’s life. Hell, she was the light of the Avengers. She was great and she was the nicest person on the team. She was a fresh breath of innocence and kindness bestowed upon the team by Nick Fury.

       That’s what alarmed Bucky so much when she decided she wanted to get closer to him; when she tried befriending him. Why would someone so innocent, so bright, want him? Why would she want to associate herself with his blood-stained and darkened soul?

       “Bucky, I made cookies earlier and decided that maybe you want some. So, tell me, do you?” y/n smiled, walking into Bucky’s room. With an annoyed groan, he faced her, an impatient look on his face.

       “No, I don’t. Maybe if you’d stop assuming things and did something worthwhile with your time like training, you’d end up with some improvement in your technique when it comes to your abilities on the field,” Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing the plate of cookies away from himself, accidentally pushing the plate of warm cookies onto the floor.

        “Jeez, you could’ve said no,” y/n muttered, picking the cookies off the carpeted floor, her eyes filling with tears as the batch of cookies she’d just baked went to waste. Bucky, however, didn’t seem to understand why she’d been picking the cookies off the ground.

       “y/n, didn’t your parents ever teach you not to eat food of the floor? God, even your manners are out of place here,” Bucky shook his head in disapproval, trying to hold back his instinct to help y/n pick the cookies off the floor.

       “Sorry, I-I just didn’t want to leave a mess,” y/n bowed her head down, ashamed at how he’d been berating her as her voice broke. Compared to everyone else on the team, something about Bucky drew her closer to him; made him crave his approval. She just wanted to be enough for him. She just wanted him to love her the same way she loved him.

       If she could turn her feelings of with a press of a button, she would have done in without thinking twice. By the gods of Asgard, love was a feeling that had her floating on air. A feeling that filled her with joy. But damn, loving Bucky Barnes was hard. Even after everything he’d put her through, she still found herself trying to love him.

       The moment she’d picked off all the cookies from the floor, she headed into the corner of his room where his trash bin was, and dropped the plate of cookies into the bin, her eyes glossing over with tears. Bucky wanted to make his way across the room and apologize, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

       ‘It’s all an act,’ he’d told himself every time he found himself wanting to comfort y/n. He just knew that past that goody-two-shoes act, something was just too shady about y/n and her façade.

       y/n, ignoring the tears welling up in her eyes, bolted out his room as fast as her legs could take her, into her bedroom—which unfortunately for her—right across from Bucky’s, slamming the door shut behind her.

       She leaned against the wood of the door, sobbing her eyes out as she chastised herself yet again for what she’d just done. Silly her, she should have known better than to be nice to a man as cruel as Bucky. But damn it, she didn’t want to hurt Bucky. Not even after everything he’d put her through.

       Unbeknownst to her, Bucky could hear every sob that tore through her body. It was one of the curses of having enhanced hearing. He somehow convinced himself that it was all a trick; that she was taking advantage of his enhanced hearing with her fake sobs.

       Little did he know, y/n, as she sobbed, was already thinking up ways she could make it up to Bucky, unable to scratch the look of annoyance on his face from her brain. She felt as though she was wrong for trying to do something nice for Bucky. She felt as though she was the one suffocating him.

       To Bucky’s relief, her sobs quieted down and with a sigh, she headed to her bed, telling herself she’d apologize to Bucky the day after that.

       Little did she know, he had to leave extremely early that morning for an undercover mission. One he knew would take a while to accomplish as rushing the mission could put so much on the line.

       Ignoring the pain in his heart when he boarded the quinjet without saying his goodbyes to her. Why would he, though? It wasn’t like she was anyone to him, right?

       “Nat, do you know where Bucky is?” y/n questioned, skipping into the kitchen, seeing Nat sipping on a mug of dark coffee. Nat’s tired green eyes widened in shock at the realization that y/n didn’t know. Yesterday, she’d just assumed y/n baked Bucky a batch of cookies as a way to say goodbye and she broke down in tears knowing she wouldn’t see him in a while. Well, this was definitely one hell of a wrong assumption.

       “Did you forget? He went on that undercover mission earlier today,” Natasha explained, her brows furrowing at the sight of the confusion on y/n’s face.

       “Did I forget? Nat, I didn’t even now!” y/n exclaimed, her eyes welling up with tears. Of course, he wouldn’t tell her. It’s not like she was somebody to him based off the way he’d been repeatedly treating her.

        “Wait, for reals? I really thought he would’ve told you about this mission. I mean seriously, he cares about you. I don’t know how caring about someone works, but I’m pretty sure that if you care about someone, you’d let them know before going to a mission for a couple months!” Nat gasped, wrapping her arms around y/n.

       “Well, he doesn’t care about me. I’ll just have to deal with that, I guess,” y/n chuckled sadly, sobbing into Natasha’s shoulder. Finally, she was able to admit it to herself and someone; Bucky didn’t care about her. There was no point in trying to love him.

       That was the first step for her to finally get over him. She knew that the distance—after she’d thought about it for quite a while—would work in her favor. She didn’t have to try getting Bucky to love her back if he wasn’t there.

       Meanwhile, while working undercover in a luxury hotel in Malta with a handful of SHIELD agents, Bucky found himself laying in bed, unable to sleep, realizing there was no way y/n could have faked those sobs he’d heard from her room the day before he left.

       It was there he realized that he broke her. y/n, the kindest most innocent person he knew, broke down into tears because of him. He’d never seen or heard her cry before that point. Not even during the times she’d been injured while she was out on the field. He fucked up and he knew he had to make it up to her when he got back.

       Those two months, while working on the mission, his thoughts occasionally wandered off to those of y/n. He found himself wondering if she’s missed him or if she’d found someone new. Her smile was the first thing he imagined in the morning, her laugh the last thought on his head before drifting off to sleep; dreams of her filling his head.  

       He’d thought distancing himself from y/n was going to get him to forget the instinct to gravitate closer to her, but it did the exact opposite. He found himself craving for y/n’s presence while he was away.

       That was probably why it stung when he got off the quinjet, a swarm of clapping SHIELD agents surrounding them as he and the SHIELD team got off the aircraft. There were at least a hundred agents surrounding them in the hangar, but none of them were y/n.

       He moved through the multiple floors and rooms of the compound in search for y/n. His mind was finally put at ease the moment he heard it; her beautiful giggle coming from the lounge area of the compound.

       He got closer and closer to y/n before his eyes widened at the sight in front of him; y/n was watching a movie as she usually did on weekends. The only difference was she was now cuddling up to Steve’s side.

       He was too late. She was finally tired of trying to love him and moved on to someone they both knew could return the same love she gave. Though it pained him, that man just wasn’t him.

FOREVER TAGS: @spatium-viatorem​​ / @sxphiiwrld​​ / @strangersstranger​​ / @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ / @cutie1365​ / @valeriiaaass / @adorkably / @whatinthyworld

MARVEL TAGS: @captainamerica-is-bae​

BUCKY TAGS: @missmidnightxo​ / @tinymalscoffee / @howliebucky /

#bucky #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x teammate! reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter solider imagine #winter solider x you #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #avengers #avengers x you #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

“UTOPIA?”

Obispo “Bishop” Losa x Reader.

Anon asked: could you write an imagine with bishop losa, in which you feel like he doesn’t love you anymore ?

Word count: 1.1k

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. The gif isn't mine.

Big thanks to my sweetie, @chibsytelford, for helping me reading it and correcting it before posting it!

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You don't know when it happened or how it started, but you know you can't fix it.

At first, he stayed at Vicki's place till late at night, coming back home drunk and smelling of smoke and cheap perfume. You know he never could cheat on you, but the insecurities made your body into a home. You cry every night until you fall asleep and the next day you have to cover it with some extra make up. The travels started to be more often, from two or three days to almost two weeks. No calls, only texts. And it's painful see how he is pulling himself away from you, without knowing what you are doing wrong.

The tears run through your cheeks when you're allowed to read the word ‘positive’ on the pregnancy test. You didn't notice that you lost your period two months ago with all this shit installed on your shoulders. It feels like it is drowning you and you can't find air to breathe.

Two knocks on the bathroom door paralyze your heart. Watching the clock on your wrist confused, you raise your eyes to it. “(Y/N)?”

“Shit”. You think cleaning the tears with a kleenex, before getting up and keeping the test inside your pocket. Unlocking the door, you let him enter.

Bishop frowns looking at you from top to bottom, trying to know what's happening and why you are crying. “You ok, ah?”

“Yes, yes… I've a horrible headache”. You lie walking next to him with the intention of running away. But he stops you with an arm on your waist. His anger grows with pursed lips because of your words. He knows you better than anyone on earth. “You're tired Obispo, and I don't wanna bother you”.

“Don't call me that. Not you”. He demands with a tone that makes you tremble, closing your eyes for a second. “I'm sorry, querida… You know how much I hate when you call me as everybody else”.

“It's ok, it doesn't matter”. Now you're free to go out of the bathroom, walking to the room looking for a pill.

“(Y/N), we need to talk”. Bishop sounds tired and disappointed. You swallow nodding, turning to him with your lips pursed.

“It's inevitable, right? I tried to fix it, I swear I tried, and I never wanted it to happen”.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He looks confused walking a step next to you. He crosses his arms on the chest. “Tell me… Jesuchrist… Tell me you didn't crash my fucking car again. I told you one fucking hundred times! Don't go fast!”

Every word he spits sounds more unrealistic than the other. You raise an eyebrow, while Bishop rubs his temples. You're not understanding anything.

“How much is it gonna cost me this time… querida?” He sighs falling on the mattress with his arms open.

“I didn't… crash your car. I'm talking about you and me”.

“What the hell is supposed to be broken between us that you can't fix?” He turns his head to you. Is he joking?

“Really?”

“Really what?”

“You've been taking more jobs than you already have to do. You drink at Vicki's with your friends, brothers, family or whatever the fuck they are, every night. I can't remember when the last night we went to bed together was”. Here you are. Exploding. Telling him all the shit you've been living with. He knows you're right, leaving a sigh before he offers you a hand. “If you don't love me anymore, tell me. 'Cause I feel like I'm dying and I'm so fucking stupid that… I thought I could fix it”.

He rubs his eyes with two fingers, sitting on the edge of the bed and turning his body to yours. “The Cartel fucked me hard, (Y/N). Bringing those problems to my safe-place was never an option. And yes. I did it. I preferred to get drunk and forget than make you be part of it. I treated you like shit. I pushed you away. I didn't give you the attention you deserved. But never…” He pulls your hips, making you sit on his lap to be near. “I'll never stop loving you, mi amor. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I need you. I miss you. It's my fault”.

Your lips tremble with urgent desire to cry again, at least this time feeling alleviated. He gives you short kisses, once and again, all around your face before hidding his face against your neck.

“Shit, baby, I'm so fucking sorry…”

You hug him without saying a word, supporting one of your cheeks on top of his head. His arms wraps around you harder, like there wasn't any distance between your bodies. Silence. Lovely silence. He smells like he used to, months ago, using that cologne that drives you crazy and you had associate to your home. Bishop has his eyes closed, concentrated on your heartbeat thinking that he could fall asleep listening with the warmth of your arms protecting him. This is everything he has ever needed.

“Bish…”

“Yea'?” He asks peacefully and calm.

“I'm pregnant”. You don't need to say anything else, when he raises his face to you. No gesture in it. Looking at you praying to god that is not a joke. You smile softly with pursed lips and slightly wrinkled nose. Giving him the test, he takes it incredulous, re-reading the ‘positive’ twenty times.

It's the first time you see Bishop crying, since you met four years ago. Is weird and uncomfortable, 'cause you never could imagine that he even know how to cry. You try to calm him, leaving some caresses above the vest filling him with kisses.

“Tell me you didn't know it before”.

You can feel the pain and the guilty in his voice, looking at you with reddened eyes. You know his story. You know where he comes from and everything about his childhood. If you were discovered days ago, when he wasn't with you he would never forgive himself.

“Just ten minutes ago”.

He sighs alleviated, supporting his forehead against your chest. “I'm so fucking sorry, mi amor, I swear. It will never gonna happen' again”.

“But… Are you happy?”

“Shit, of course I am”. From nowhere he starts to laugh nodding, looking again the test in his hand. “Man… It's gonna be the fucking luckiest child, querida”.

#mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc x reader #mayans x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine

[cassiopeiassky]

Black Velvet

Alright everyone, it’s finally here.  I’ve been sort of salty about the lack of tall!reader fics for awhile now or maybe it’s just the ubiquitous short, petite, drowning in his sweatshirt descriptions that get under my skin but just couldn’t get a decent amount of inspiration to write one.  I have been known to throw in a mention of height randomly in my fics, but my usual workaround to avoid physical descriptions of the reader is to just write Bucky as like six and a half feet tall.  Hes a damn super soldier, he should be taller anyway he did not start out as short as Steve.  So one day I stumbled across this post by @invisibleanonymousmonsters​ and for some reason I can’t explain, an idea was finally unlocked in my brain later that same day.  (Inspired by a song?  Me?  No.  Never.)

It’s kind of all over the place, so buckle in.  It does take a sharp right into smutsville but also ends up flipping a u and landing in flufftown.  I don’t know.  I just write what the muse tells me to write.  

I would like to thank the incomparable @scottish-pepper​ for her amazing help and support while I wrote the thing - I couldn’t have done it without you, darlin.

Bucky x Tall!Reader

Modern day AU - think of a 40s prewar Bucky if he got a chance to grow up and lived in a small town 

Plot:  You have a terrible day of epic proportions but a beautiful stranger in a small town helps to make it better.

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), smut, mentions of alcohol/drinking/bars, a brief mention of potentially disordered eating, mentions of a thunderstorm, and a very specific shitty family member.

Word count: 12K  Yep.  Knda got away from me

One last author’s note:   This fic includes some ASL dialogue; it is expressed in italics without quotation marks.  ASL is an incredibly beautiful and expressive language, and it’s in 3D!!  It also has its own grammar structure, rules, nuances, and regional differences, just like any other language, and it can be a challenge to fit it into a two-dimensional space.  Taking this into consideration, I’ve decided to write the dialogue with spoken English grammar because my ASL is really rusty and I don’t want to mess it up.

It’s hot.  Like 100 degrees in the shade with 95% humidity hot. The trees are wilted, flowers are drooping, and there isn’t so much as a glimmer of hope for a cloud in the sky to interrupt the sun’s torture of earth’s inhabitants.  The air is thick and still – there’s no movement at all – yet dangerously unsettled.  It’s the kind of weather that if you sneeze, you might cause a tornado in the next county over.  Of course your cousin would choose today of all days to get married.  And of course her mom pressured her into going black tie, increasing everyone’s suffering tenfold.

“I can’t believe I rented a room for this.  I can’t believe I spent $200 on a dress.  Why am I even here?  What did I expect?”  There’s no answer, but of course there wouldn’t be.  You’re alone in your car, driving back to a motel that you might not even stay the night in.  You’d rented a room because you figured you’d have a few drinks at the reception – you wanted to celebrate the bride, she’s one of your best friends – but at this point you might as well just make the hour drive back home.

About a block from the motel you notice a bar tucked behind a gas station.   According to the clock on the dash, it’s only 5:25.

Fuck it.  You deserve a goddamn drink after today.

You pull into the parking lot and are surprised by the number of cars, farm trucks, and motorcycles already parked.  There’s only one redneck limo, thank God – a pickup truck with a 10 inch lift kit and truck nuts hanging off the hitch, and in your experience driven only by incredibly insecure men – so that’s a good sign, right?  It must be a decent place with decent drinks if it’s this busy so early in the evening.  Maybe some of your day can be salvaged after all.

The hot, sticky air rushes in as soon as the car door is opened.  “Gross,” you mutter; the heat hits even harder after the air conditioning in your car.  Glancing over to the passenger seat, you see the hideous shoes your aunt Lydia pressed into your hands upon arriving at the wedding.  “You know what, Lydia?  Fuck you and fuck your ugly shoes.”  You put your heels back on just to spite her.

It’s a small-town watering hole, so of course all eyes are drawn to you when you enter.  And they stay on you as you find a seat at the bar – perhaps it’s because you’re a stranger, perhaps it’s because you’re overdressed.

But probably not.

The bartender approaches while drying his hands.  He’s got dirty blonde hair in a sloppy undercut, a wide, flat nose, and is wearing a concert tee shirt with the arms cut off to show off his full sleeve of tattoos.  

“Do you have blended drinks?”  He nods. “Strawberry daiquiri, please.”

“Sure thing.”

You pull out some cash, tipping generously because your drink is a pain in the ass to make, then look around while you wait.

The bar is cool but not cold, not brightly lit but also not uncomfortably dim, is bigger than it looks, and is even busier than the amount of vehicles in the parking lot would lead you to believe.  On one side there’s a jukebox next to a small stage with an empty but decently sized dance floor.  There are a few high tops, then a gaming area featuring pool tables, dart boards, and a few pinball machines.  On the other side of the bar you see a window with someone selling pull tabs, a station set up for calling bingo, a door to what’s probably the kitchen, and a popcorn machine filled with freshly popped popcorn.  Behind you and scattered generously throughout the building are tables, some with 4 seats and some with 6, and over half of them are occupied.

“Here you go, miss.” The bartender places your drink in front of you with a polite smile.  “Would you like a menu?  The full kitchen is open tonight.”

The thought is nauseating. “Mmmm…maybe later.”

“Too hot to eat?”  At your despondent nod, he grimaces and places a tall glass of ice water next to the daiquiri.  “Thought as much.  I’ll check back in a bit.”  You didn’t notice his name tag until now – his name is Clint, and according to the hand illustrations under his name, he’s fluent in ASL.

Unsure if he’s Deaf and fluent in lipreading or if he’s hearing, you both sign and murmur, “Thank you,” before bringing the drink to your lips.  It’s on the edge of being burned – just the way you like it.  Sipping on the sweet slush is pure bliss, cooling you down from the inside out as it tempers the heat of the rum.

You sign?  He doesn’t speak this time.  It’s not an uncommon reaction.

Yes.  I’m an interpreter.

His eyebrows rise in interest.  What made you go into that?

My high school offered it, and I ended up becoming really good friends with the teacher’s daughter, who is Deaf.  I made a lot of friends, got involved with the community and immersed in the culture, and I just loved it, so I figured, why not do this for a living?  My dreams of being a Triple Crown winning jockey went out the window by the end of 5th grade so…

He laughs, but not unkindly.  Yeah, I suppose you are a bit too tall for that.  But 5th grade?  Damn.   His face lights up, Hey, have you heard of PATH, International?  They’ve got a campus about half hour north of here.  If you like horses, it might be right up your alley.  

PATH International, or Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship, is an organization very close to your heart.  Yes! I volunteer there every Tuesday night.

The look of surprise on Clint’s face is priceless.  No shit? I’m there on Thursday nights!  You must be the other interpreter the kids are always talking about - they LOVE you!  And so do the horses.  You know, I was Ace’s favorite till you came along.  Now he won’t even look at me unless I bribe him with a treat.

You look again at his name tag, and the name clicks.  Wait, you’re Hawkeye!  The one that does the archery demos on horseback for the kids’ birthday parties.

He takes a theatrical bow. The one and only.

Clint “Hawkeye” Barton is nothing short of a legend at PATH.  Profoundly Deaf yet impossibly accurate with speechreading, he manages to blend both worlds perfectly.  He’s also a master archer both off and on horseback, which basically makes him a superhero in the kids’ eyes.  There are whispers that he travelled with a circus as a teenager, that he raises horses, and that he moonlights as a vigilante, but nothing has been verified and from what you’ve been told, he will neither confirm nor deny.  It’s very likely that there’s at least some truth to the horse raising rumor – Ace is technically his horse, he just loans the chestnut gelding to the program.  You’d been dying to meet Clint for a few years now but hadn’t been able to make it work.

It’s so good to finally meet you!

Likewise!  I’ve been meaning to swing by on a Tuesday to see who it is that stole my favorite horse’s heart, but I’m usually here.  His face lights up, Hey, I’ve got some ideas for a field trip for the older kids and adults but I need to team up with an ASL interpreter since I can’t technically work as a Deaf interpreter on my own off PATH’s campus.  You know, rules and shit.  You interested?

Absolutely!  Just let me know.   You dig a pen out of your purse and write your number and email address on a napkin. You know, I’m sorry, but I’m really not sorry about Ace.  He stole my heart, what can I say.

He’s a shameless flirt, but I never thought he’d actually prefer someone else over me.  But now that I’ve met you, I guess I can’t be too sore about it.  He seems to have good taste.  He takes the napkin with a grin and folds it up before putting it in his pocket, then looks to his left when a waitress waves for his attention and nods.  Duty calls.  Let me know if you need anything.

Well, that improved your day considerably.  

For a few minutes, anyway.

“That’s an awfully girly drink for a woman like you.”  A cloud of stale cigarette smoke with an obnoxious sounding man in the middle of it takes the seat next to yours.  

You don’t turn to face him; you don’t even acknowledge him.  If that’s his opening line, then you really, really don’t have the patience to interact with him today. This is the guy that owns the jacked-up truck. You can feel it in your bones.

Clint makes a face from behind the drink he’s making, notices your annoyance, and shakes his head. “Dude, she’s got more alcohol in her glass than you and your four buddies combined, so don’t knock her drink of choice.  She’s also clearly not interested, and way, way out of your league.  Go back to your pull tabs and leave the lady alone.”

You can feel the guy’s eyes on you, but Clint keeps glaring daggers at him and he eventually leaves. You can overhear him tell his buddies, “Thought she’d be an easy lay, but you know what?  Even I have standards.  How do you fuck someone that tall anyway?  I’d need scaffolding!”  They laugh, but you continue to hold your head up high.  It’s nothing you haven’t heard some version of before.  He’s not clever.

Ignore them.  They’re lonely, small little men.

I know.  Thank you.  His protective gesture is touching and completely unexpected.  This kind of thing doesn’t happen very often because most people assume you can handle yourself.  You can – but it’s nice to not always have to be on the defensive, and today you’re at your limit.

No worries.  You look like you had a rough day, I figured you didn’t need Chad making it worse.  Clint winks and turns back to his drinks.

Well, he’s not wrong, but the day can only get better from here, right?  Right.  You nod to yourself then sit back and enjoy your drink.  Clint stops by periodically to chat, but otherwise you’re left alone.

Eventually it’s time for a trip to the ladies’ room, and you do your best to ignore the stares and chuckles that inevitably follow you.  In your semi-formal black dress you certainly stand out in a bar filled with cut off shorts and tee shirts, but that’s not why they’re staring.

In your black satin and lace, modestly platformed stiletto heels – affectionately known as your ‘fuck me shoes’ – you’re well over six feet tall.  Are they uncomfortable?  God yes, but they’re also beautiful and totally worth it.

The bathrooms are at the back of the bar, past the dart boards and pool tables.  You’re almost there when you hear something ping off one of the pool table lamps and see it ricochet across the aisle and onto the top of the glass and wood cabinets housing the pool cues.  

“How – how the hell did you manage that, Rogers?”  A man with dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass heads in your direction.  “You were supposed to throw the chalk to me, not your imaginary friend standing thirteen feet behind me.”

“Sorry, Buck,” a blonde joins him, looking appropriately apologetic.  “My aim was a little off.”

“Ya think?”

You slow your pace to watch them.  The guy with the dark hair is gorgeous – well, they both are, to be fair – but the one…damn.  His maroon tee shirt is fitted enough to show off his beefy physique, and his jeans hug his thighs and ass like they were made for him.  He throws off an air of cocky confidence with just a hint of danger, lending a genuine feel to his bad boy image.  Should you…maybe?  No. No, you absolutely should not. You’re not in the right mindset to try to soothe a man’s threatened masculinity just for a bit of company.

He and the blonde reach for the wayward chalk, but it’s just out of their reach.  It’s amusing to watch them try to grab for it, but you take pity on them eventually.

Time for your good deed of the week.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.”  Stepping between the two, you reach up and effortlessly pluck the blue cube from its spot before dropping it into the dark-haired man’s hand with a smile.  “Here you go.”

Wide blue eyes look up into yours, but he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even smile.  He just stares.  Figures.

The blonde looks between you and his companion before clearing his throat.  “Thank you, ma’am.”

The unspoken rejection from the brunette stings.  Normally it wouldn’t get to you, but after today?  It does.  It really does.  So you swallow against the burning thickness in your throat and force back the tears with a fake smile.  “You’re welcome.”  A few more steps and you’re in the ladies’ room, which only serves to make matters worse when you step into an open stall.  As you turn around to lock the door, you can see your entire head in the mirror, poking out above the top.  A pair of women walk in and they giggle, so you quickly sit down.  There’s no point in taking it personally – it actually happens quite a bit in older buildings and you can fully admit that the sight is pretty funny – so you compose yourself and do what you came in to do.  You slouch when you stand in order to avoid accidentally looking into one of the neighboring stalls and go to the vanity to wash up.

Even the sink mocks you by making you bend almost in half to reach the water.

A woman with dark hair and bright red lips exits the far-right stall and joins you at the mirror.  “Oh wow, your shoes and dress are so pretty!”

“Thank you.”

“Did you come from the wedding at the ballroom?”

“Mmm hmm.”  You glance at her shorts and flowery sleeveless top and swallow your sigh – you feel like a fucking behemoth next to her.  “I think maybe I should have stopped by my motel room to change.”

“No, you look really nice!” She smiles up at you, “It’s really not unusual to have people dressed up in here on the weekends, you’re just earlier than we usually see it.  I’ll give you a tip, though, in case your feet start to hurt.  I know the place looks kinda crusty, but the owners take a lot of pride in it.  The floors are clean if you choose to go barefoot.”

Her unexpected kindness surprises you; you’re usually shunned by other women when you’re at a bar because all they see is your height, which they erroneously perceive to be an advantage in attracting men.  “Thank you. That’s really good to know.”  She turns to leave but you stop her when you notice something wrong with her shirt. “Hey, hon, you’re missing a button.”  The poor girl is busty, and she’s likely been flashing an unintentionally generous amount of cleavage for who knows how long.

She looks down and immediately sees the gap in her shirt.  “Well, shit.  I just bought this shirt.  No wonder some of the guys couldn’t look me in the eye.  Stupid boobs, always trying to pop out.  Why can’t they just make clothes that fit real people?”

“I feel ya,” you mutter as you start digging through your purse.  “Hold on, I’ve got something…here, try some of this.”

“Scotch tape?”  She looks confused as she takes it.

“Double sided tape.”

Her eyes get wide as she gazes up at you.  “You’re a genius.  And an angel. An angelic genius!”  She takes some and fixes her shirt, smiling brightly. Thank you so much!!”

Despite your incredibly shittastic day, you find yourself warming to her.  She’s nice.  “You’re welcome!  I didn’t want a bunch of creeps leering at you.  In a world of Chads, we women really need to stick together.”

“Oh, God, you met Chad?” She grimaces and shakes her head, “I’d like to apologize on behalf of the entire town.  He and his friends are not a good representation of the rest of us, I promise.  They don’t even live here, they were just permanently banned from the bar in the next town over and now they’re our problem, apparently.  But I promise, the rest of the people here are alright.”  She sticks out her hand, “I’m Peggy, by the way.”

You shake her calloused hand and give her your name.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. If you feel like some company, just come find me.  My friends and I will probably be here for a while, and you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Thank you, I might just do that.”  You flash a smile, genuine this time, and go back to your seat at the bar.  What the hell, maybe you’ll take her up on her offer after you finish your drink.  

A minute passes, maybe two, before someone takes the barstool next to you.

It’s him.  The gorgeous brunette.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”  You want to roll your eyes at your reply. Smooth.  Real smooth.

“My uh, my friends pointed out that I was rude earlier, so I wanted to apologize.”

You turn to him quizzically, giving him your full attention.  Is this really the same guy that was playing pool?  The sexy one that projected ‘bad ass’?  “For what?”  

His cheeks grow pink and it throws you off guard.  “It’s not nice to stare.  My ma taught me better than that – she’d slap me into next week if she saw how I acted. I ain’t usually like that, I’ve just never seen, uh…”

Here it comes.  The ‘I’ve never seen such a tall woman’ comment that leaves you feeling like a roadside circus freak show.

“Well, you just got an amazing smile.”

Wait, what?  “Huh?”

“I’ve never seen such a pretty smile.”  He shrugs and studies the bar top.  “Your eyes looked sad, though.  I dunno. I guess I was tryin’ to figure you out.” He turns back to you with an almost obnoxiously handsome grin, “My name’s Bucky Barnes.  Can I make it up to you?  Buy you a drink?”  

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to gauge his intent.  He seems genuine enough – he’s either a brilliant actor or you seriously misjudged him, which, in your current cynical mindset, is entirely possible.

You look up to see Clint watching as he dries some glasses.  Maybe he has some insight.  Is this guy decent?  He’s gorgeous but does he have a personality?  

Clint snorts, glancing at Bucky then back to you.   Yeah. He’s a pretty good guy.  He’ll treat you right.

Bucky looks like he’s swallowing a smile when you turn back to him.  “Yeah, I guess you can make it up to me.”

“Really?”  He seems genuinely happy at the prospect.

“Sure.”

“Great!”  Apparently that’s all the invitation he needs to turn on the charm.  “So what’s a gorgeous girl like you doin’ in a dump like this?

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh.

“No,” he shakes his head sheepishly, “It’s not.  Guess I’m really off my game today.  I can usually flirt, I promise.”

A beer and another daiquiri appear on the counter.  “Thanks, man,” Bucky nods to Clint.  “Hey, you wanna grab a table?”  He nods his head to the side of the bar by the jukebox.  “It’s quieter there.  We can chat and I can show you that I ain’t, in fact, the dumbass I’ve made myself out to be.”

“Yeah, okay.”  Why not?  Even if you don’t know Clint enough to trust him, the kids that you work with do, and you trust their judgement.  So if Clint says that Bucky is decent, you’ll believe him.

***

It ends up being a good choice.  Bucky turns out to be more than decent – he’s really nice, funny, respectful, keeps his eyes where they belong, and doesn’t ask if you play basketball.

He asks the basic questions and learns that you live about an hour north of here, that you’re an interpreter, you love to read, write, and draw, and yes, you were at a wedding. Tired of talking about yourself, you take advantage of him pausing to drink his beer and flip the topic.

“So what do you do?”

Bucky takes a deep breath and sighs. “I’m a mission systems engineer with NASA.”

You blink at him.  “I’m sorry, you’re what?”

“A mission systems engineer with NASA.  I know, I –“

“Do you have top secret clearance?”

He looks thoroughly confused.  “That’s your first question?”

“Do you?  Or would you have to kill me if you told me?  Have you been to space?  Does the government have a plan for if an asteroid comes our way, or would we have to do like the movie Armageddon and wing it with a bunch of oil rig operators?”

Bucky appears to be absolutely delighted at your string of questions.  “Well, yes, no, unfortunately no, and I can’t tell you that because has to do with national security.”

“Fascinating.”  You sit back, thoroughly intrigued by the man sitting across from you. “What the hell are you doing in a podunk town like this? Shouldn’t you be in Houston?  Or D.C.?”

“I live here.” He chuckles at your unimpressed stare. “Yeah, I know it’s a small town – we got a bar, three churches, a motel, a gas station, and a diner that closes by 7 pm every day.  Our biggest draw is the ballroom on the lake shore and the hunting grounds in the fall. It ain’t exactly the heart of modern technology.  But I grew up here, my family and friends are here, and I stick around to help out on their farm.  I fly into Headquarters a few times a year, but otherwise I work remotely.”

“So what do you do?”

“The general gist of it is that I lead a team that designs, develops, and deploys missions.”

“To space?”

“Well, I mean, I work for NASA…”

“What are you working on now?”  You can’t help peppering him with questions – this is so fucking cool.

His eyes sparkle.  “You got top secret clearance?”

“No.”

“Sorry.  Can’t tell you anything,” he shrugs with a smirk.

“I…yeah, I guess I kind of walked right into that.  Wow.  So you’re really freaking smart.”

“I hope so!”

“Do you like it?”

“Being smart?”

“Your job, dipshit.”

He laughs, freely and openly, and it’s an amazing sound.  “I love it.”

You can’t help but stare at him.  “Wow. That’s…that’s just really, really fucking incredible.”

Bucky gets quiet.  “It is really incredible.  Thank you for thinking so.”  He looks up, then back down as he starts peeling the label off his empty bottle of beer. “You know, you’re the first person I’ve told about my job that didn’t either tell me I don’t look smart enough to be a mission systems engineer or ask me how much money I make.”  He meets your eyes again.  “Or both.  I get that a lot, too.”

You certainly know how shitty it feels to get those kinds of unsolicited comments based solely on appearance.  It’s one thing to have an impression, but to just say those things out loud?  “Well, they suck.  And they’re truly shallow if they think intelligence has anything to do with how you look.  But hey, at least they show their true colors right away so you can save yourself some time.” You lean forward, chin in hand, “Okay, so I know you can’t tell me about your actual projects, but can you tell me about your job?  What are your responsibilities?  What does a mission systems engineer do?”

Bucky lights up like New York City and spends the next 40 minutes going into detail about what he does, and you hang on every word; it’s impossible not to, really.  His enthusiasm for what he does is so evident that even if the topic weren’t interesting, you’d still be entranced.  And you thought he was gorgeous before?  His animated passion makes him absolutely breathtaking.

You’ve both finished your drinks and, perhaps not so surprisingly, he switches to soda when you do. When unordered appetizers arrive with your new drinks, you both look over to Clint, who just winks and shrugs.

“Well I ain’t gonna complain.  Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”  Bucky shoves an entire ham and cheese ball into his mouth, but then has to hasashafahasa because it must have just come out of the fryer.  “Ish hot!  Rearry hot!”

Bursting into laugher, you slide your ice water to him before cautiously taking a bite of your buffalo wing. Considering how much fun you’ve had in the last hour, it isn’t all that surprising that your appetite has returned. “Me neither.”

The hours fly by as the conversation eventually turns to other topics, and you find yourself talking about things you wouldn’t expect considering you’ve just met.  Bucky seems so open and honest that it’s difficult not to reciprocate, and if one doesn’t go into detail about what the other asks, it’s only because there’s so much to cover.  

Bucky dips the last bit of pretzel into the beer cheese sauce and pops it into his mouth.  “So if you don’t mind me asking, what made those pretty eyes of yours so sad?”

You take a long sip of your Coke Zero as you debate your next move.  Deflect or come clean?  You surprise yourself when you blurt out, “My aunt, Lydia.”

“Your aunt?”

You squirm a bit at the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability, but you keep going.  “Yeah.  It was her daughter that got married today.  Marie and I grew up together – Lydia is my mom’s only sister, so she was the one that took care of me when my mom had to work double shifts, which was a lot. She did the best she could, and she means well, she really does, but she’s just so caught up with appearances. My height is a, uh, a definite sore spot with her.”

“Really?  Why?  What does it matter?”

“I think it comes down to the appearance thing.  Tall women are generally seen as less feminine, even straight up masculine.  Lydia is tall, too – not quite as tall as me, but close.  She claims that she got her husband through making herself appear daintier.  She only wears flats and follows all the newest fad diets to make herself as small as she can because she feels that being a tall woman puts her at a distinct disadvantage.”  You shrug, “She was one of the primary examples I grew up with. And to be fair, it’s not like she’s completely wrong.  In my experience, guys tend to feel emasculated by me.  And it’s not just men that seem to see me through a distorted lens.  Even from a young age – I’m talking 4th grade – I’d hear teachers tell my mom that I seemed so much more mature than my peers, that I didn’t need as much support, emotional or academic, as everyone else.  I got additional responsibilities and higher expectations.  The thing is, I wasn’t more mature.  I was just tall, so I looked more mature.  Eventually it kind of came true, though.  Other than my mom, who was single and working 2 jobs to keep me housed and fed, I didn’t really have anyone that would protect me or support me.  I guess no one thought I needed it, so I just got used to doing it myself.”

Bucky shakes his head, and you can’t tell if his expression is one of pity, sadness, anger, or something else.  

“But Lydia made everything a hundred times worse than it needed to be.  I already knew I was outside the norm, I didn’t need the reminders. But every time I’d hit a growth spurt she would share some nasty comment on it, as if telling me that boys didn’t like tall girls would somehow stop my bones from stretching.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Mmm hmm.  Despite my mom’s efforts – and the fact that being tall is actually pretty awesome – Lydia’s words really got under my skin, and even now they undermine my confidence sometimes.”  You gesture to yourself and the bar, “Obviously.  I should be at my cousin’s wedding right now.  I don’t go to many family functions anymore, because of her.  It just…it puts my head in a bad place.  You know, they say it takes five to seven positive comments to balance out one negative comment?  The negative is in everything she says.  Everything.  I love my family to pieces, but I just can’t handle her.”

“What did she say to you today?”  If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Bucky is getting pissed.  

“She met me at the door of the chapel with a pair of her ugly black penny loafers.  Said that she told the photographer that I wasn’t allowed in any family pictures unless I was wearing them, because she didn’t want my Amazonian ass towering over everyone else and ruining the aesthetic.”

“Your…your ‘Amazonian ass’?”

“Eh,” you shrug and wave your hand dismissively.  “It’s not the first time I’ve been called an Amazon and far from the worst thing people have said. I mean, people say it to be cruel, but Amazons were fearless warriors.  I just think of it as being put in the same class as Wonder Woman.  The part that hurt was that she was prepared to make sure I wasn’t in the pictures, that she thought she could just erase my existence, simply because I’m too tall for her liking.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. “I might be overstepping here, but what a heartless bitch.  No one should ever try to erase you, what a fucking idiot.”

“She browbeat Marie into dyeing her hair blonde for the wedding.  Marie hates it, but did it for her mom’s approval.”  You release a deep sigh, “But that’s Lydia, and that’s why I took my Amazonian ass out of there the second the ceremony was over.”

“Hmmmm.”  He gazes at you.  “You know she’s a princess, right?  

“Huh?”

“Wonder Woman.  She’s a princess. You know…Amazon Princess…it actually kinda suits you.”

“Seriously?”

“Damn right I’m serious. You’re tall?  So what.  You’re fuckin’ royalty.  Own it, Princess.  Correct ‘em. Make ‘em say it.  Amazon Princess.”  

“What?”

“Yep.  Say it with me.  Amazon Princess.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, but there’s something undeniably sweet about the way he’s pressing the issue. It’s not good enough for him that it doesn’t bother you – he wants it to be seen as a term of empowerment and to let people know that’s how you see it.

The moment is interrupted when a booming voice comes through the sound system.  “Alright everybody, it’s ten o’clock!”  Someone stands on the stage, holding a mike and looking more than a little tipsy.  “You know what that means!”

The bar cheers, “Free jukebox!”

A line forms immediately, and the music starts.

“Wanna dance, Princess?”

“Really?  You’re going to call me ‘Princess’ now?”

He shrugs with darkening eyes and a suggestive smirk.  “If it’s okay with you.”

If he keeps looking at you the way he’s looking at you right now, he can call you whatever he damn well pleases.  But he doesn’t need to know that.  “Yeah,” you murmur.  His gaze is so intense that you have to look around the bar to break it and gather your thoughts.  You happen to see Peggy; she’s standing next to the blonde that had been playing pool with Bucky, so she must know him.  She catches your eye, sees who you’re with, and gives a thumbs up with a huge grin. Well, alright then.  You grin back and remember what she said.  “Let’s dance.”

Bucky stands, stopping when he sees you toeing off your heels.  “Woah, what’re you doing?”

“Taking off my shoes?”

He shakes his head, “Princess, you don’t need to do that.  I ain’t too fragile to dance with a woman taller than me.”

“I know,” and you do, “But I can’t dance in these.  And my feet hurt.”

When you stand, you’re almost eye to eye with Bucky; if he were barefoot as well, you would be.

People are still lined up at the jukebox, selecting their favorites.  It’s exactly the mix you would expect from a place like this – classic songs like Brown Eyed Girl, Summer of ’69, and Footloose with more modern tunes sprinkled in  – the kind of music that gets everyone up and dancing.

Bucky is a great dance partner, and you’re having an absolute blast.  You don’t think about your aunt, the wedding that you’re supposed to be at, or how you are, without a doubt, the tallest woman in the bar.  He laughs, showing off the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, obviously enjoying himself, too.  

The jukebox switches songs again, and on comes the relentless, even rhythm of Black Velvet.  For the first few measures, you just stare at each other.  It’s the first song to play that isn’t upbeat, and you don’t know what to do until he makes the first move and pulls you close – close enough to breathe each other in. He stares as Alannah Myles’ smokey voice drifts over the steady bass, then spins you so your back is to him.  

If Bucky’s a good dance partner for upbeat music, he’s even better when it’s slow like this, when every move counts.  He’s enough to handle you, and more than confident enough to do so.

Bucky stays behind you, mirroring you with his hands resting gently at your waist.  Your back is against his chest, but his hips keep their distance. Just to experiment, you press yours back and hear a guttural “fuck” before he intentionally shifts.

Bucky is absolutely nothing that you expected.  “You’re a gentleman.”

You can feel the dark chuckle rumbles through him. “I wouldn’t say that, Princess.”  He spins you around, pulling you close but not too close, and runs his thumb along your neck.  “I just ain’t in the habit of taking what ain’t mine.”

His voice sends a shiver down your spine.  Fuck. You like him.  One night stands aren’t usually your thing…but that’s not what this feels like.  He feels familiar.  Safe.  You like him, and he sure seems to like you. Your mind is already made up – you’ll take the chance and see what happens.  You hardly recognize your own voice when you ask, “Do you want me to be?”

“Thought I was makin’ it obvious.  Yes.”  He doesn’t hesitate and his eyes don’t leave yours.  “Are you offering?”  

You move your hand to the back of his neck and lightly scratch, watching with satisfaction as his pupils dilate even more than they were.  His lips part when you pull him closer, but he waits for you to close the kiss.

The second you do, his hands slide down to your lower hips before he tightens his grip.  He’s not timid; he kisses you as though you’re a well-known lover, deeply and intensely, without bothering with introductions.  

Bucky suddenly breaks the kiss, spinning you around again to pull your back against his chest.  This time, though, he allows his hips to rock into yours with the rhythm of the music, slow and steady and insatiable.  The way he moves makes it impossible not to think about fucking him; hell, you’re practically halfway there already.  His hands alternate holding you tightly to his body, maximizing contact, and running up and down your sides.  Your head falls back when his mouth finds your neck, and your legs go weak when his teeth nibble that spot beneath your ear.

You’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His voice is thick when his lips find your ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

You nod, taking his hand to lead him back to the table to collect your things.  “I’ve got a room at the motel a block away.”

“Good.”

When you take one last look around, you see Clint, still behind the bar, grinning at you like an absolute idiot.  Have fun!

“Oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, but you can’t completely hide the smile.

You step outside to find that the unbearable heat of the day has eased somewhat now that the sun has set. It’s still warm as the humid air kisses your skin, but with the breeze it’s sultry rather than oppressive.

You and Bucky look up at the same time – the stars are barely visible through the haze of clouds. There’s a thunderstorm rolling in on the western horizon.

Bucky walks you to your car, making sure you’re in safely before getting in his own truck and following you to the motel.  He jumps out of his vehicle and pushes you against the car the second you’re out of it, kissing you like it’s been days and not 2 minutes since his lips were last on yours.  

He doesn’t stop until the first few raindrops hit your skin.  Bucky looks up while you grab your purse and your aunt’s shoes out of the car, gathering them clumsily before locking the door.  It takes a minute for you to get your room key out of your purse, but you finally manage.

“Looks like the storm is already here.  Gonna be a good one if it got here that fast.”  He takes your hand, “Which room are you in?”

“Up the steps, furthest door on the left.”

Bucky leads you to the stairs as you both laugh while trying unsuccessfully to dodge the increasingly fat drops of rain.  He doesn’t let go of your hand until you need to unlock the door, and the second you hear the click of the lock, his lips are on yours again.  He pushes the door open and guides you through, closing the door behind him with a well-placed kick.  You drop your purse and the loafers, then step out of your heels as he toes his shoes off.  Still connected at the lips, he doesn’t see the things on the floor and trips over one of your stilettos.

“Oh shit!”  His eyes are huge, staring up into yours when he realizes he isn’t going to hit the floor because you’ve caught him by the arm. “Good catch, Princess.”  Both of you start laughing as he stands up straight, but the laughter dies out when his mouth find yours again.  Hungry hands roam your body while you reach beneath his shirt so your fingers can explore the taut muscles you just know are hiding beneath it.  Bucky grabs the collar behind his neck and pulls the shirt off altogether, and you are not disappointed.  “You like what you see, huh?”  

“Damn right I do.”  You’re breathless, pressing your lips against the salty skin of his collarbone.

“You sure know how to use that mouth of yours, don’t ya?”  He groans, then reaches down to grab the hem of your dress to lift it over your head before tossing it to the side.   “Goddamn, darlin.”  Bucky eyeballs you like a starving man at a feast before his mouth is back on yours, then moves his lips to the top of your breasts while he reaches around to unclasp your bra.  It joins your discarded dress as he pulls you close, groaning at the feel of your naked breasts pressed against his chest.  “I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve you walkin’ into that bar tonight,” he bites your neck and you can’t stop the light whimper, “but I ain’t gonna complain. I’m gonna make you feel so good, Princess, I promise.”

You believe him.  And you cannot wait.

The two of you somehow manage to take a couple of steps toward the bed.  “I’ve wanted to do this since you smiled at me after givin’ me that chalk.  Those eyes, that smile, that dress, those fuckin’ sexy shoes.”  His hands find your hips, hooking your panties with his thumbs to push them down so you can step out of them.  “When we started dancin’ all I could think about was what it would feel like havin’ your legs wrapped around me, I want you so damn bad.”

You unbutton his jeans and fumble with the zipper, then pull his jeans and boxer briefs down at the same time, freeing a fully hard cock that is nothing short of glorious.  “Then either figure out how to multitask or stop talking and fuck me already.”

Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.

He kicks off his remaining garments before pushing you against the nearest vertical surface – which happens to be the middle of the window, where there’s a strip of metal supporting the two panes of glass.  You aren’t sitting on the ledge, just leaning against it to keep your balance.  It occurs to you that maybe you should close the curtains, but you’re too far gone to care enough to do anything about it.

“Don’t you worry, Princess. I can do both.”  His arm is looped around your waist to hold you steady while your upper back presses against the cold strip of metal.  You’ve got one arm hooked around his neck and the other steadying yourself on the edge of the windowsill.  Bucky reaches down, takes hold of your thigh and lifts it to his hip. He lets go of your waist just long enough to guide his cock to your entrance – and he can slide right in because you’re so damn wet – and fuck, the way he stretches you is delicious.

“Christ, you’re so damn fuckable,” he moans in your ear, sending shivers throughout your entire body. “So fucking perfect…don’t need a bed or a chair, I can fuck you anywhere I want.  I could just bend you over, wouldn’t even need a wall.”  Between his thrusts, which are as maddeningly steady and slow as his dancing, the cool metal of the windowpane at your upper back, the flickers of lightening, and the crashes of thunder, it’s almost sensory overload. He’s holding you so tightly that you can’t move your hips much, so you’re completely at his mercy.  And he knows it.

Each move he makes is a sin; the angle you’re at all but guarantees he’s stroking your clit with every move.  Delirious with the sensations flooding your brain, you can only babble nonsense.  

“What’s that, Princess? Use your words, darlin,” Bucky

“So…so good…I, huh…”

He chuckles darkly, “What was that?”

He’s not playing fair but you really don’t mind – his confidence with you is a rarity and is such a fucking turn on.  “More.”

“More?  You want me to fuck you harder?  Is that right?”  He waits for your nod before flashing a wicked grin lit by lightning, then adjusts his grip on your thigh.  “Anything you want, Princess, you get.”

His thrusts come harder and faster, multiplying your pleasure tenfold.  Then he shifts his hand on your thigh, changing the support from holding it up to pushing it back, opening you further and allowing him to go even deeper.

Oh, oh fuck…

Your entire body clenches with your orgasm, so tightly you can’t even breathe, and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

Bucky follows you just seconds later with a growl of your name against your neck and a few last ragged movements.

He releases your thigh as he gently pulls out, but he doesn’t take his arm from around your waist. You lift yourself onto the windowsill, pulling him between your legs as you hold each other close and catch your breath while the storm rages outside.  He keeps his face buried in your neck as you run your fingers up and down his back, calming you both.  The thunder rumbles violently while lightning dances in the sky, but it doesn’t worry you. You’ve always found comfort in the chaos of a storm.

Eventually your legs start to fall asleep, so you begin to move.  Bucky notices and hikes both of your thighs up to his hips before guiding your arms up around his neck.  “Hold on, Princess.”  He reaches down and lifts you, carrying you the 5 feet to the bed.  After laying you down, he begins kissing you again, then starts exploring your body.  “I love being cradled in your thighs like this, but there’s something else I wanna try,” he whispers as he starts crawling down.  “Now I can take my time with you.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where he’s going.  “Really? Um, maybe I should shower first?” You’re sweaty from the heat of the day and just had some really incredible sex, so there’s no doubt in your mind that things are less than fresh down there.

“If you want to.”  He keeps on his slow descent, kissing everything in his path, “But I’m happy with you just like this.  I want you, right now, as you are.”

“But don’t you –“

“No.  I don’t.”  There’s a challenge in his eyes when he looks up from his destination.  “I don’t care.”  And then Bucky dives in, devouring your pussy like he’d devoured your mouth.  He’s got you writhing in moments, all worries gone. But he’s a goddamn tease now that the initial urgency has been satisfied, bringing you to the edge and then backing off again and again in a beautiful torture.

You can’t do dirty talk to save your life, but you’re about to start begging when he finally looks up, chin glistening before he wipes it away with the back of his hand.  “Fucking delicious.”  Between the sight of him, his voice, and the sensations you’re feeling, your brain just about short circuits.  Then his fingers start to circle your entrance, teasing you, making you want more before he slowly pushes two in and curls them to press against that spot, and fuck it can’t feel any better, but then somehow it does.  You pull a pillow over your face but he shifts, reaching up to yank it back off and throw it across the room.  “No way, Princess, I wanna hear what I do to you,” he rasps, watching you with hungry eyes and a feral grin.  You’re almost there…almost…and then he puts his mouth back on your clit and your universe implodes.

One orgasm blends into another and you allow him to push your limits until you can’t handle it anymore. “Stop,” you gasp, and he does immediately.  “I’m – it’s too much.  I…wow.” You’re so oversensitive at this point that if he breathes too hard, you might jump out of your skin.

Bucky crawls his way back up to you, dropping kisses on your hot skin as he goes.  “You’re incredible, you know that?  I love how your body responds to me, I fucking love it.”

He kisses you again, and despite your sensitivity, your hunger for him grows.  Sitting up, you pull him with you then push him down to the mattress.  “Fuck yes,” he whispers hoarsely when you straddle him and slide down, pausing to glide your pussy along his hardened cock, but then you slide down a little farther before spreading his legs so you can kneel between them.  

It’s impossible not to groan aloud when your hands find his thighs; thick, tight, and incredibly well formed, they look like they were sculpted by a generous god.  “I might have to ride one of these later.”

“Please –“  Bucky swallows hard and licks his lips as he watches you in the dim, sporadically flickering light, “Please do.”

One hand moves to palm his balls while you part your lips to take him in as far as you can, reveling in his heaviness on your tongue while using your hand to stroke the base of his cock. You give it a bit, waiting until he’s writhing beneath you before you pull off and redirect your attention.  His eyes grow wide when your fingers start moving down beneath his balls to his taint, pressing gently to find the very root of his cock which will then lead you to the spot you’re looking for.  Pressing firmly when you find it, you begin rubbing tight circles.

“What are you – oh.  Oh.  Oh, fuck, Princess, oh fuck!”

It’s ridiculously satisfying to see him reduced to the same whimpering, quivering puddle you were not so long ago.  You make him come once, twice, three times without ejaculating, just because you can.  

Bucky’s got his forearm resting over his eyes as he shakes his head, and you take advantage of his distraction to shift your body into position.  “Holy shit.” He’s breathless, shaking,  “I did not know I had a spot that could do that.  Fuck.  I – oh Christ…“

You slide onto his cock, smiling when his hands automatically reach to grip your hips – the biology and technique can be explained later.  Leaning over, you kiss him deeply then stretch your arms above him to grip the headboard.  Rocking your hips slowly, so slowly, you watch him watch you.

Bucky’s lips form words but nothing comes out except for sighs and soft moans as you become more and more intoxicated by his need for you.  His hands wander up and down, touching your breasts, hips, ass, and everything in between until he pulls you down for another kiss.  “Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are?  You feel so good.  So fucking good.  Wanna make you feel good.  As good as you make me feel.”  Bucky kisses you again, sloppily, then wraps an arm tightly around you before flipping you both.

Now that you’re on the bottom and he’s back in control, he picks up the pace considerably.

You certainly aren’t about to complain.

His hands are grasping yours, holding them over your head, and your legs are locked around his hips as his thrusts eventually begin to lose their impeccable rhythm.  

Now neither of you are in control.

The pleasure has been steadily building, an inevitable tidal wave on the horizon.  Maybe it’s his confidence, maybe he’s naturally gifted, maybe it’s that his body seems to fit with yours just right.  Whatever it is, this is by far the best sex you’ve ever had, and despite already having multiple orgasms, your appetite for him seems to be insatiable because you’re greedy for the next one.

“Fuck, Princess, it feels so good having those legs wrapped around me,” he pants, “Goddamn, I can – I can feel you’re right there.  I ain’t gonna last much longer, come for me, darlin, give it to me now.  Oh Christ yes, that’s right, just – just like that.”

Your body obeys, giving him exactly what he wants.  The velvet sound of his voice, his incessant dirty talk, the way he smells and tastes – everything about him adds to your pleasure induced stupor.  The orgasm is so powerful that everything but Bucky goes black, and the only thing keeping you tethered to this world is the way he chants your name as he comes.

His body continues to cover yours as you wait for your racing pulse to slow.  He presses kisses to your neck, cheeks, lips, and eyelids, and finally your forehead before he gently lifts himself off to lay next to you. “C’mere,” he pulls you to him, and when you rest your head on his chest you can hear how fast his heart is still beating.

Thoroughly sated and soothed by the feel of his fingertips on your skin, it’s tempting to give in and fall asleep.  But not yet. Not if you want to sleep through the night.

Reluctantly, you rise. Maybe, if you’re really fast, maybe he’ll still be here when you get back.  It’s probably not the sane thing to do, but you really, really want him to stay the night.

“Where you going?”  Is that trepidation you hear in his voice?

You smile as you take in the sight of him lying in the bed, disheveled and clearly satisfied. “I need to shower.  And wash my face – I need to get my makeup off.  My eyes are getting itchy.”

“Can I join you?”  He laughs at your raised eyebrow, “No, Princess, not like that.  I’m gonna need some time to recover.”

“That’s good to know,” you smirk, “I was starting to wonder if you were a god wearing a mortal’s skin.”

Bucky blushes.  It’s adorable.  “Nah, no god here.  Just a man that’s never wanted a woman so bad before.  Still do,” he shrugs, “Just too worn out at the moment to do anything about it. You’re somethin’ special, I hope you know that.”

It’s your turn to feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you hold out your hand to help him up.  

The shower is tender and sweet, full of soft kisses and softer touches.  This man just keeps surprising you.

He’s toweling off his hair when his eyes meet yours in the vanity mirror.  “Is it okay if I stay?”

A slow smile spreads across your face – you couldn’t stop it if you tried.  “I’d like that.”  You slip into fresh panties and a tank top, turning to face him fully to admit, “I’d like that a lot.”  Bucky beams at you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips and heads to the bed. You finish up a few minutes later and crawl in, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.  There’s nothing to hide behind – no makeup, no cocktail dress, no drink.  It’s just you, and this is a state that very few people see you in; no one you’ve ever dated has seen you this vulnerable until months have gone by.  Some didn’t see you this way at all.  “Don’t look too close.  I’m very unglamorous and monochrome without makeup.”

Bucky’s blue eyes stare in yours.  “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”  His fingers trace your freshly moisturized skin.  “I think you’re beautiful.”

Outside, the thunderstorm has exhausted itself.  He pulls you close and breathes you in, and you both fall asleep to the sound of gentle rain.

***

When the sun peeks through the gap in the curtains at 6 am, you’re not even mad that you’re awake.  The sight of Bucky lying peacefully next to you is something you’re thoroughly enjoying.

“You’re staring.”  His voice, deep and gravelly, rumbles lightly into the silence as he opens his eyes.  “It’s because I’m decent and gorgeous with a personality, right?”

“What?”

Bucky smirks as he stretches and sits up.  “I should probably come clean.  The bartender from last night?  My parents took him and his sister in after their parents were killed in an accident. Clint and Carrie were lucky to survive – he lost his hearing and six months of memories and she was in the ICU for 3 weeks.  He and I have practically been brothers since grade school.”

It takes a minute, but you finally put the pieces together.  Oh.  Well, shit.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I was just really surprised to see you sign so I didn’t look away fast enough. I’m sorry.”

You sit up and slap him lightly on the shoulder.  “So, you knew what I asked him?

His smile broadens as he gives you puppy dog eyes.  Yes. Please don’t be mad.

You try not to smile back as you think about it but lose the battle and shrug.  “I’m not mad.  Maybe a little embarrassed, but we’ve known each other for what, 12 hours?  It’s not like you can tell me everything about you in that short amount of time.”  You give him some serious side eye, “Although you could have mentioned that when I told you what I do for a living.”

He studies your eyes like he’s trying to see into your soul.  “I told you a lot, though.”

“You did.  We both did.”  It surprises you, more than a little, that you aren’t horrified at how open and honest you’ve been with him.

Bucky reaches his hand up to cup your cheek and he pulls you in for a kiss.  “Good morning, beautiful.”  It seems like he doesn’t want to part, because he rests his forehead against yours.

Somehow your hand finds his neck, and you gently rub your thumb along his jawline.  “Good morning, Bucky.”

His stomach grumbles. Loudly.  “Wanna grab some breakfast, Princess?”

It makes you a stupid amount of happy that he’s not ready to leave you just yet.  “Yeah.  I just need a little bit to get ready.”

A half hour later, Bucky opens the passenger side door of his pickup.  “Your chariot, Princess.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking his offered hand and climbing in.  It’s an older truck, one with a bench seat, and it smells of hay, Bucky’s cologne, and sweat.  It’s not what you’d expected, but it suits him.

In this tiny little town nothing is open at this hour on a Sunday morning, so Bucky pulls his pickup onto the interstate to head to a fast food restaurant a few miles away.  You take the time to look around – the area is really pretty and reminds you of the drive to your grandparents’ house, all farmland and pastures.  Of course, you can’t help but stare at the horses whenever you pass them.  “Whoa.  They must breed Appaloosas.”

Bucky takes a quick glance out your window.  “Yeah, that’s the Carter farm.  They raise Appaloosas and alpacas.”  He’s quiet for a moment.  “You like horses?  Not everyone can randomly pick out that breed.”

“I love horses,” you murmur, smiling broadly when you spot a few foals among the herd.  You’re too busy looking at them to notice how he looks at you.

***

Breakfast is simple, just something picked up at a drive thru window, but that’s perfectly fine with you. Bucky doesn’t pull back onto the interstate though, he instead starts driving the winding country roads.  You don’t mind in the least; you simply sip your coffee, content to be exactly where you are.  Considering the hour, you aren’t even grumpy.  Stealing glance at the reason why, you hide your smile and take another sip.

Bucky’s fingers drum almost nervously against the wheel, then he seems to make a decision as he brakes sharply.  “Sorry, Princess,” he smiles sheepishly, “You up for a picnic?  I know a spot.”

His smile is infectious. “Yeah.”

He takes the left he stopped so quickly for, and then another left onto a dirt road, and a mile later he turns onto what looks like a seldom used service trail leading up to a fenced in pasture.  “Just a sec,” he pulls the truck to a stop, then gets out to open a gate.  Bucky quickly climbs back in, drives the truck through about 20 feet before turning in a tight circle to face the road, and closes the gate behind him before stepping up to your door.  “I got some blankets, do you want to sit in the truck bed with me?”

“Of course.”

He gets the blankets and spreads them out while you grab the food and coffees, handing them to him before you climb in after him.

“I would’ve helped you in, Princess.”

“Bucky.  I’m not five feet tall.  I can get into the back of a truck.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m fully aware of that.  But unlike the other shmucks you seem to have come across in your life, I ain’t gonna make you do something by yourself just because you can.  You deserve consideration and chivalry, too.”

What do you even say to that?  He’s the exact opposite of pretty much everything you’ve ever known.  It’s nice.

He sits down against a box that is attached to the back of the cab.  “C’mere.  You look cold.”  

It was hot when you’d packed your overnight bag so you’ve only got a tee shirt and shorts on, and luckily a hoodie that just happened to be in the backseat of your car.  “I am, a little,” you admit as you curl into his side, allowing him to cover your legs with another blanket that he’s pulled out.

He eats one handed, keeping an arm around you to keep you close and warm.

Everything smells clean and fresh now that the storm went through, and the morning air is chilly but fresh with the light breeze.  The radio plays softly, drifting through the open windows as you and Bucky eat and watch the fluffy white clouds drift by.  It’s the best picnic you’ve ever had, hands down.

“So where are we? It’s beautiful here.”

“My parents’ farm.”

You turn to stare at him. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yep.”

“Lucky.”

“I am.  Hey, I wanna introduce you to someone.”  He stands suddenly, not waiting for a reply.  You’re in the middle of a pasture, who the hell is there for you to meet?  Bucky brings his fingers to his lips and lets out the sort of piercing whistle that you’ve never managed to master.

And then…and then…

“Are you fucking serious.” Eyes wide, you bring yourself to a kneeling position as a steel grey Percheron comes galloping full speed towards the truck.  “Bucky!”

He turns toward you, face almost split in two by his grin.  The horse slows down, circling the truck and whickering before coming to a full stop right at the tailgate.  

“I’d like you to meet Sergeant.”  

“Oh my God, Bucky, he’s stunning,” you breathe, unable to help yourself as you slowly move forward to sit at the edge of the open tailgate.   Intelligent eyes take you in before a velvet muzzle finds your hand.  “Sorry buddy, I don’t have any treats for you.  But I do have ear scratches,” you murmur, firmly stroking the planes of his face before scratching behind his ears.  You giggle when he sighs, and again when he mouths gently at your hair.  

Bucky beams with pride as he pulls an apple out of the box you’d been leaning against, feeding it to Sergeant before sitting on the tailgate next to you.  “I’ve had him for 20 years.  I got him when he was just a colt.  Trained him myself.  He’s one of the reasons why I choose to work remotely – I just can’t imagine not getting to see him.”

“I don’t blame you at all, I don’t think I could’ve left this sweetheart either.”  Sergeant blows gently in your face, then nuzzles you hard enough to push you backwards.  “Oh my goodness, you are just a big baby, aren’t you, Sarge?  Oh, you like that?  That spot right there?”  You laugh lightly as the giant horse stretches his neck toward you, seeming to thoroughly enjoy how you scratch just beneath where his mane grows.

“He likes you.”  Sergeant looks over when Bucky speaks, but then turns back to you.

“Well, I like him.” Feeling eyes on you, you turn to Bucky. “What, are you jealous?” you tease.

“Yes.”  Bucky cradles your face in both his hands and begins kissing you.  Before you know it, you’re lying in the truck bed with him, making out like a couple of teenagers out past curfew.  Time slows even as it moves, and you’d swear the minutes stretched into a blissful forever as you lay in his embrace.  But the real world likes to force its way in, and the distant sound of a car’s horn brings you both back to your senses.

Sergeant is about 50 feet away, grazing peacefully as Bucky pulls out his phone to check the time.  “We, uh, we should get going.  I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands to myself, and my folks will be drivin’ by on their way to church in about 15 minutes.”

“Don’t feel like scarring them forever with the view of your naked ass?”  You sit up and start pulling up the blankets to fold them.

“Honestly?”  He shakes his head, “They’d probably cheer and then invite you over for dinner.”

Pausing your movements, you let that one sink in.  “…Oh. Well that would be just as awkward as the alternative.”

He shrugs.  “They’ve been dropping some not so subtle hints that they think I should settle down.  They’d be thrilled just to know I spent the night with you.”

You tilt your head a bit as you watch him.  “Don’t you date?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Really?  Why not?”

He shrugs again as you hand him the blankets, then he turns his back to you as he puts them in the box. “I dunno.  I guess I just hadn’t found anyone I wanted to actually spend time with.”  

“Huh.”

“What?”  There’s a challenge in his eyes when he turns back around.  “That so weird?”

“No, I get it.  You definitely shouldn’t settle.  I guess…” he’s staring at you now, waiting for you to finish, “I guess I’m just a little surprised that someone hasn’t snatched you up yet.  Where I come from, you’re quite a catch.”

“You think so?  How’s that?”

Is he baiting you? Teasing you?  Genuinely curious?  It’s impossible to tell.  “I know so. You’re smart, kind, funny, and a stupid amount of gorgeous,” you pause to level a look at him, “but I suppose you already knew I thought the last part.”

Bucky barks out a laugh but at least has the good grace to look sheepish.

“You have an absolutely beautiful horse, which wins points with pretty much every person I know. Your parents took in a couple of kids when they needed a family, and you learned a new language so you could keep communicating with your friend.  You have every opportunity to move to another city, but you stay here to be close to those you care about.  And,” it’s dumb, really, how you’re suddenly too shy to meet his eyes, “You’re really good in bed.  Like, really really good.  You’re the whole damn package.”  When you finally look up, he’s staring at you again.  “There’s a perfectly real possibility that you’re a total asshole and that you’ve been acting this whole time – I’ve only known you for a day – but I haven’t seen any cracks.  I get the definite impression that I met the real Bucky, and he is one hell of a catch.”  

“Huh.”  He hops down and turns, holding out his hand to help you down.  Do you need to take it?  No, but you love that he offers anyway.  He doesn’t let go after he helps you out, instead choosing to hold your hand as he walks you to the passenger side.  Bucky only lets go because he has to, and once the gate is secured behind the truck, he takes your hand and holds it for the entire drive back to the motel.

***

Ever the gentleman, Bucky walks you back to your motel door.  

“Do you have to go?” The words are out before you can think too long on them.

He’s shaking his head before your entire sentence is out, “No.  Not if you don’t want me to.”

You don’t even care if you sound needy or clingy.  “Please stay.”

Just like you learned last night, Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.

At least the drapes are closed this time.

***

A sharp rap at the door and an equally sharp call of your name interrupts your post-lovemaking bliss.  It’s your aunt.

“I don’t wanna,” you whine.

Bucky bristles, sensing your distress.  “That her?”

You nod before pulling a pillow over your head.  “I’m just going to pretend I’m still asleep.  Maybe she’ll go away.”

“Don’t worry Princess, I got you.”

You feel the bed shift and move the pillow.  “Bucky!”

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised, as another insistent knock echoes through the room.

“You’re naked!”  It comes out as a stage whisper, making you both snicker.

He flashes a shit eating grin.  “So?”

Is he really gonna…

With a dramatic huff, he stops to find his boxer briefs and quickly tugs them on.  Kind of.  They’re sitting awfully low.

First there’s the sound of the door swinging open, then Bucky’s voice, bored and borderline intimidating.  “Yeah?”

The following silence is deafening and you almost wish the room was set up so you could see your aunt’s face, but all you can see is the back half of Bucky’s sensational body leaning in the doorframe.

“Uh, hi?  I’m looking for my niece?  I thought this was her room?”

“You mean the tall, gorgeous drink of water?  About my height?  Killer smile? Was wearing, uh, let’s see, what was she wearing?  It’s been awhile and she ain’t wearin’ much of anything now.”

The blood rushes to your face, but you can’t even imagine how embarrassed Lydia is right now.  The thought is nothing short of glorious.    

“Uh,” he snaps his fingers a few times, feigning concentration, “Oh!  A black dress with the sexiest heels imaginable?  Sound about right?”

“Well, yes, but –“

“Yeah, she’s here.” His tone is still bored, but you think you can pick up on an edge of amusement.  Your aunt must be squirming by now, and it’s all you can do to not start cackling.

“I thought…well…the gift opening is in an hour.  I thought she was going to meet us for breakfast before –“

“She won’t be goin’ to the gift opening.  Or breakfast, but don’t you worry, ma’am.  I made sure she ate something.”

The not so subtle innuendo almost makes you choke on your own spit.

“You can’t – are you holding my niece hostage or something?”

He laughs darkly but yells out, “Princess, am I holding you hostage?”

Your own laugher, unable to be contained any longer, bursts out.  “Nope!” you call out, absolutely feeling as gleeful as you sound.

Lydia is practically apoplectic by now.  “But what about the gift opening?”

“She doesn’t. Want.  To go,” he growls, stooping down.  “And here, she doesn’t want your fucking ugly shoes, either.  Stop projecting your insecurities onto her – she’s perfect the way she is.”  Bucky closes the door – perhaps a little harder than strictly necessary – and you hear the sound of the lock sliding into place before he saunters back to the bed.

“Thank you for doing that, Buck.  I – holy shit, I cannot believe you answered the door like that.”  Your eyes are glued to how low his boxers are sitting – he’s showing more than just his happy trail.

“What?  Everything’s technically covered.”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, Princess?”

“I – I’m not even sure how you managed it, but you basically turned your boxers into the dick version of a pasty.”

He grins, “Like I said. Everything’s technically covered.”  Bucky moves closer, crawling into the bed until he hovers above you. “But not for long,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck.  “Now, the way I figure it, we got another two hours till checkout.”

“Mmmmm…” you’d rather not think of the time.  It’s necessary if you don’t want someone from housekeeping to accidentally walk in, but you don’t want this to end.

He kisses you deeply before pulling back, looking just a little hesitant.  “And then, if you want, we could continue this back at my place? If you’re not in a hurry to get home?”

He’s kept his lips to himself for a few seconds, so your head manages to clear enough to process what he just said.  “What? Really?”

“Yeah.  I mean, I get it if you have to get back.  But,” he shrugs awkwardly, his current vulnerability at stark odds with his usual confidence, “I like you.  I’d like to spend the day with you if you’re free.” He kisses your neck again and nibbles your ear.  “We can do more of this.  I like this, too.  A lot.” He pulls back to look you in the eye. “But we could also do some talkin’. Maybe you’d let me take you out to a nice dinner before you head home?”

A smile, broad and genuine, stretches across your face.  “I’d like that.  I’d really like that.”  Even if you never see Bucky again after today, you’re hungry for whatever time you can get with him.   He’s addictive and you’ve never in your life felt more satisfied and safe than you do right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His borderline cocky confidence returns as his hands resume roaming the landscape of your body. “Good,” he mouths against your throat, and resumes his worship of you.  “It’s gonna be a good day, Princess.  A good fuckin’ day.”

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x tall!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #my work #black velvet #5.6.20

[kkemtal]

Risk and Benefit: Where Was I For You Not To Mind My Own Business Here

September 1, 2021

The peak of my red tide has got to be the cause of why my mind goes intangled and triggered a growing deeply sown frustation throughout this whole day. I might second my over intake of caffeinated beverages today to be part of the major blame too. This has conjured images of the things I really want to do and enjoy. In the unprecedented world we're currently caught on, with my reluctance, I am jeopardized by having second thoughts on weighing out the risks and benefits on pushing what I desire to do as part of my self-love - gym, solo travels, driving classes. From these planted frustrations unveils what rolls out at the end of today.

Throughout the day, just out of the blue, while waiting for my appointment at the hospital, I decided to meet with someone who works at the coffeeshop. It's just a walk mile distance. I had a fine moment of transient socializing with 'them' while jumbling with my client calls and a few mail reports. As always, on how consistently thoughtful and welcoming they were, they treated me with my favorite coffee drink along with vegetarian salad and blueberry cheesecake. Honestly, I felt an immense gratitude on my every visit there as I thought they and along others associated with me are angels in my life based on their gestures imbued of positive energies. Along with our conversation, it was just me being accosted of how I was doing. I was expressing on wanting to unwind on local travels and beaches as a solo traveller or hoping to be adopted by any willing adventure seeking cliques. As an open opportunity for me to explore and along the way make new friends which I know how crucial this is at my age.

From suggesting cool beaches and tourist spots into harboring mixed emotions of frustration and dreading over you as they asked me how am I with you. They kinda felt dubious on our non-label or lowkey so to speak kind of relationship. They kinda felt a pity on me as they knew how expressive I was on assuring you that I still have feelings for you. They adamantly advised me not to take this martyrdom too long while you're at abroad as they had a gut feeling you might possibly met someone more special. Since, we haven't spoken yet for almost two months right after you left me on seenzone last July 20, 2021, I believe? You were at the van on your way home from whatever was your part-time job related errands at night. As an overthinker, I have already thought about that as one of the future major possibilities for another painful heartbreak in this cusp of adulthood. Most likely the reason to be would be you finding yourself falling in love more in there and choose to live permanently there and restart a new life chapter. I sensed it's never gonna be as traumatazing as my last toxic ex-boyfriend. But, a somewhat liberating yet a very painful and great lesson in love to be embedded from.

Right now, honestly, I'm crying here at my room because I'm overthinking that maybe our depth of love for one another since then was we misinterpreted in some way on confronting what's so special and rare we had or we took it differently by meaning. Maybe, on your side, this is just a fleeting rollercoaster moment, a phase you'll take what we had a special connection for granted. From my side, I know I prayed for this to have it with you during college which right now I yearned for something greater between us and that has left me feeling one-sided with you. Maybe, I mistook what you've felt for me as something greater and beyond just purely a crush. Since you've got no father figure and are a single child, maybe you loved me more as a sibling with no romantic/intimate attachment, perhaps. I don't know, I feel kinda guilty, confused and hurt with these self-inflicting thoughts. I have a hunch that could be the reason on your phases of denial flickering out. At the same time, I'm sulking to the thought of you being taken over by your selfishness and pride or your own demon as you mentioned then. Maybe you might forget me and along with your closest loved ones here who are missing you. I know you just have to figure things out for yourself and come up with some thoughtfulness and considerations whilst exploring on your dream land which I'm so happy for you that you've made it given the global situation.

Being so emotional right now and incessantly crying, fuck. Of course, I have thought about these possibilities on being on your shoes because I want to save myself from being too idealistic in love and shift my perception into what is realistic. I have considered every factor amidst this pandemic while being patient with you without waiting, I don't know if that makes any sense. The pain caused from these thoughts is something I should embrace as a cure of a future heartbreak. I don't want to disturb you although I want to besides on how much I miss you so much and wondering about you. But, truly the main reason is I know you have received more than enough of my assurance that you'll always count on me based on the poems, songs, letters and most especially that birthday presentation I sent during the lockdown period.

Apart from that, I will just let you be. Just like that significant gist from the film Ruby Sparks, I don't want to control or try to change you out of frustration to stay in line what favorable consequences I'd like to project through you in choosing me. Teary-eyed me painfully sees this as a challenge on what's meant for me will find its way back to me on the right time granted by the Universe. Done right out naturally. Regardless, the balance of negative and positive opinions I gathered from others, I'm still gonna be on flow and patience with you. Wholeheartedly, no matter what, I'll always be thankful for how long I take this too far on reaching you amidst the uproar of doubts and approvals, cheers and jeers from the crowd on how our relationship unfolds. Despite, I felt I am silenced onto holding with this, anchoring with hope though I'm drowning in despair. Because, I swear to God, what we have is so unimaginably rare that I couldn't find this kind of special connection with a gazillion of people I met who just come and go. I kept searching for you to anyone who has been enamored by me or anyone at our age group connected with me both in and out of my professional field. At this far reaching point, you are beyond comparable. No one is anywhere near significantly special as you - the fear of losing and the risk of temporary place in my life serving as what figure of platitude.

Tonight, I saw a post introducing one of the locally known DJs residing from the middle region of our country who's in a long-term 6 year relationship with one of the Miss Universe candidates from the aformentioned region competing against other beauty pageants for the globally crown reigning competition. As I viewed the couple's adorable pictures and appreciating how beautiful they are, I cried asking God how I wish to be genuinely happy by having this kind of exact inspiring and loving relationship with open acceptance and no room of denials coupled with exuberance and blessings from both parties and the public with no clouded judgements and be perceived as subject to love is beyond what's intangible. This. I felt envious. I know this overblowing trail of messed up rumination will pass but come in lighter degrees from inexplicably thinking about you past work hours until I hit the hay.

Right now, I only hope and ask the Universe for you to be safe at all aspects while chiselling in becoming the better version of yourself by weeding out the realized toxic traits you figured from yourself based on your encounters from living with your abroad ambitions. Hoping you will have more strength and energy to take care of yourself and tread against whatever plummets you down in this new journey as the world has been hard enough. As you say, happiness is such a luxury.

- kkemtal

#kkemtal #Hope #Love #Desire #Pray #Adulthood #Diary #Gratitude

[indigoelfinspirit]

all of them for Paris please :D

That was a lot – like hours, and you owe me Tharen x Rayland goodies now or gay werewolves I'm not picky. Also it wouldn’t paste right so the numbers are missing. Oops. Answers under the cut because it really was a lot.

BASICS

What’s their full name? Paris Sonata Royale

What does their name mean? Why were they named that? Paris means “Lover” and it doesn't get more accurate than that, does it? His parent's were going for important prince from legend though. His middle name is just his mom's maiden name – They were those type of rich people. Why I picked it was because I looked at him and said he looks like a Paris and it stuck since it fit the Greco-Roman and/or space themed naming thing I had going on, and more importantly it fit him. Royale was just

Do they have any nicknames? Just the normal coupley stuff like “Babe”.

How old are they? He's about 33 when the story starts, and 40ish as of the latest post

When’s their birthday? July 6th

What’s their zodiac sign/element/birthstone/etc.? Do they believe that holds any significance?

No idea unfortunately (if anybody has an idea drop it in the comments).

What’s their species/subspecies? Do they have any special/magical abilities?

In the Starfall universe berry sims are descendants of the Fae and other mythological creatures. Which is the long was to say he's an Elf. No magical abilities unfortunately.

What “class” do they belong to (for fantasy characters)? If none, what weapon do they favor?

N/A

APPEARANCE

What do they look like? About 5'11”, light purple, curly black hair.

Do they have a face claim? N/A

What’s their style like? Clothes, hair, makeup? Comfortable clothing mostly – lots of t-shirts and sweaters and jeans. Hair is usually mid length, curly, warn down.

How do they carry themselves? What’s their default expression? Paris is normally pretty confident and smiling. Of course some of that has to do with his former career and learning how to act confident even when he isn't.

Do they have any physical ailments or disabilities? Yes, he has a degenerative muscular chronic pain condition. It's hereditary and incurable.

PERSONALITY

What’s their alignment? Just a guessing, but probably something like Lawful Good.

Which one of the 16 Personality Types do they fit into? No idea... he's an introvert though.

What are their hobbies and interests? Do they have any particular “favorites” (food, books, and so on)? He loves music. He plays both piano and guitar. He also loves running when his health is good enough. Oh, and traveling – especially with Callie.

What are they bad at? Do crowds count? He's really bad at keeping on a schedule. Probably has to do with the crazy work schedule he kept for decades.

What kind of things do they dislike/hate? Being patronized/people assuming/deciding he can't do something. Being left out. Crowds.

Do they have any vices/addictions/mental illnesses? He does struggle with anxiety as a result of his medical issues and the way his family treated him after he got sick. Wolfbane helps.

What are their goals and motivations? When he was younger his goals were all music related, and he achieved most of them. Now his goals are all associated with taking care of his family and being there for them as long as he can.

What are their manners like? Any habits?

What are they most afraid of? Dying young. Not being there for his family.

BACKGROUND

Where were they born? What was their childhood like? So Paris is a rich kid. The big multi-generational family company, and he disappointed everyone by becoming a professional musician (right up until he started winning awards and they changed their minds). He actually had a happy childhood. Despite being rich, he had a mostly normal childhood with loving parents and a large extended family. Super rare for one of my main characters. It's mostly just him and Elio on the normal childhood thing.

What’s their family like? Paris' family situation is strained now. For most of his life he had a pretty good relationship with everyone, but after he got sick, particularly after the diagnosis, the situation wasn't so great. They were very overprotective of him and controlling, so he lost his independence. Paris didn't take it well, so he left which strained his relationship with his family. His parents both passed away before he and Callie got together. He's on a “Solstice cards and birthday phone calls” basis with his extended family. So the Aunts and Uncles and cousins on his side know about Callie and the kids even if they never met them.

What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold? He's a platinum record artist and Siren award wining artist and composer.

How do they fit into their “story”? Someone will have to explain this to me, but if I had to guess what was intended: He's the main love interest.

Where do they currently live? What’s their place like? Lorelei Island, Nixieberg. In a small and chaotic little vacation home on a cliff near the beach.

How do they eventually die? SPOILERS! Can't have that.

RELATIONSHIPS

Do they have any friends? Would they consider anyone to be their best friend? Ares Morrigan from his band is his best friend (we'll see him eventually). And Callie, of course.

What’s their friend group like? What role do they play in it? He and Ares are definitely the partners in crime type. They work really well together, but loose track of time easily. They feed of each other's creativity. It's part of what made Sons of Jupiter such a great band.

What’s their love life like? (See also: ship question meme.) Do they have any kids? Love life: Very good, though occasionally hard. He and Callie are very affectionate. Kids: 3 kids together and 1 from Callie's previous relationship.

Who do they look up to? Who do they trust? Not sure about the look up to part, but he trusts Ares and Callie, though Callie's tested that recently.

Who do they hate? Do they have any enemies? Not worth the energy, though he isn't particularly fond of Callie's father or the ex who stalked her (note: the ex that chased her away from home is not Rusty or O).

Do they have any pets? Wolfbane, the Shepherd of Chaos.

Are they good with kids? Animals? He's very good with kids and animals. He loves spending time and playing with them.

FUN FACTS

Which tropes do they fit? Which archetypes? He's very much the hurt guy who has given up on relationships and then finds the right girl and becomes totally sappy.

Do they play any instruments? Sports? Instruments: Piano and Guitar well, dabbles in anything else he can get his hands on. Sports: Running. He swims a bit too, but running is his big thing.

What are some items they always carry? His phone and his faithful dog.

Do they collect anything? Fans from the looks of things – pretty sure he's more popular than Callie is. On a more serious note the only collection he really had in game was pictures of his family (mostly Callie) and sheet musics for songs he wrote.

What position do they sleep in? Cuddled up with Callie.

Which emoji would they use the most? The happy crying face and probably the kissing face.

What languages do they speak? Shoot I never named the languages. Um, so he knows how to say phrases in several languages for work – you know stuff like “hello”, “How do you like the show?” “Thanks for coming out”.

What’s their favorite expletive? Probably fuck since it has so many uses, though he can't really say it now that there are always kids around.

What’s their favorite candle scent? Not really the scented candle type, but whatever Callie buys.

What songs remind you of them? …. I really should create character playlists so I can answer these, huh?

Which animal would you say represents them? A wolf. Everyone associates them with loners, but their really pack animals.

What stereotypical high school clique would they fit into? Oh, he was the guy who was always playing/listening/talking about music. The garage band rocker.

What would their favorite ride at an amusement park be? Okay so if you ask me about amusement park rides I will relate them with Disney attractions. I would imagine Paris loving things like the Three Cabelleros or Small World where he gets to laugh about how they interpreted the different cultures and places he's seen in person.

Do they believe in aliens? Ghosts? Reincarnation or something else? He wouldn't rule them out.

Do they follow any religions/gods? Do they celebrate holidays? Okay, so lore time Berries are mythological creatures and all those myths – Greco-Roman, Celtic, Nordic etc – are their histories. So it gets a bit confusing, but it's definitely a pantheon situation. Paris isn't overly religious though, so he generally believes in the Fates, like most Berries, but doesn't really practice the religion. He does celebrate stuff like Solstice (Winterfest), and Love Day which is of course associated with Aphrodite.

#IE Rambles #Ask Game #starfall bonus

[colorfullfalls]

Warm me up

Embry Call x Reader

Between Forks and La Push, supernatural occurances were constant. Vampires, wolves, but the new visitors were witches. A coven of witches moved directly between Forks and La Push, which created a massive headache for the Cullen's and Quileutes.

The witches were unpredictable and everyone seemed weary about them. The imprints were strictly told to steer clear of them. Worry coursed through the wolves veins as the thought of the love of their lives being magically hurt in any way.

Y/N was bored. Embry was patrolling a lot lately for the Black Pack due to the additional supernatural beings. She admired his dedication and hours upon hours protecting the people. But she missed him. And even more so, she was bored.

"Sweetheart, please don't go anywhere without someone who is.. well... A wolf or vampire. It sounds dumb but we aren't sure with what we are dealing with."

Embry's honest genuine worries flowed through her brain every time she thought about saying fuck it and leaving the small house.

She watched movies, cleaned again and again, organized a thousand times, played with the dogs in the yard, danced in the kitchen, painted and even sewed. Still, she yearned to actually go out in public. Walmart roaming at 2 am seemed like an absolute dream, but Embry would go into cardiac arrest if you went there, let alone so late.

He always claimed that late nights made people lonely and that led to them doing bad shit. He was so paranoid that you would fall victim to someone's boredom gone wrong. He loved Y/N more than the world and God, he wanted to shelter her and keep her safe.

The imprints were alright with doing whatever their wolves said. Stay inside- they did. Don't talk to the cullens- they did. But Y/N was not like that. She was stubborn as a mule, and Embry knew better than to try to treat her like that. She was a free woman who refused to bend to whatever others wanted.

Embry grew up respecting women. Growing up with his mom made him realize how strong women are. Tiffany didn't need a man's presence, money, or help to raise her son. He knew felt proud to have his mom. He loved her almost as much as he loved Y/N. Which is an insane amount considering Y/N was his life.

Sitting on the counter with Embry standing between her legs, she knew shit was serious. His wide brown eyes held sorrow and fear as he explained how dangerous the witches could potentially be. And that he knew she hated trying to be told what to do, but she would save him loads of worrying if she would please listen.

Y/N solemnly agreed because she knew that this matter was serious. What she didn't realize was that he would be absent so much. She missed him. Having him home would make the time fly by. His very presence was all that she needed. Craved it.

Y/N had a sudden idea. Having a hammock would be nice. Two beautiful oak trees rooted close by would be a wonderful place to hang one. She could read on it, paint on it, and stare at the sky for hours. She blushed as images of her and embry on it ran through her mind.

Leaving was a bad idea. Her mind said, no. Be smarter than that. Her heart said that she wanted that hammock and needed it. She bit her lip as she glanced at the clock. Embry wouldn't even know. Y/N decided she would lie and say she had the thing all along if he were to ask about it.

That's it, she was going. She went, got it, and felt great. Happy. Fulfilled. Excited to put it up.

She was halfway home when her car slowly halted. Gas pedal was down but the car was not moving.

"What the fuck?!" She stated, hitting the gas pedal a few times. Y/N groaned as she threw her head back. If she wasn't home soon she would be found by a very angry and dissapointed wolf. A metaphorical dog house, ironically.

Tapping left to her head made Y/N jump, screams rippling out of her throat. Hand on her throat in surprise she turned.

Gorgeous piercing green eyes looked expectantly at her. Tattoos spread down her arms, but they were almost unnoticeable due to the black hair cascading over them. Y/N swore that she never saw such beautiful hair before.

The woman had a calm look on her face, but she was intimidating none the less. She opened the car door and all Y/N could do was watch as her heart beat out of her chest.

"Wolf girl.... Could sense you miles away." She said, leaning on the door.

"Im- uh- hah, I'm not a wolf..." Y/N stammered, clinging to her seat belt in fear. Embry was for sure going to scold her for hours now.

"An imprint, whatever. You have association with them. It's simple. See, you came from La Push, their territory. No one goes there really. So you're a wolf girl one way or the other."

Y/N sheepishly nodded, glancing away from the woman and to her phone. Maybe if she got ahold of Embry he could save her before anything happened. Her hand twitched to grab it but suddenly she gasped, crippling pain invading her body.

Y/N cried out in pain as she sank into the seat. An instant headache crept up the back of her head as tears spilled.bShit shit shit. This witch meant business, and wasn't scared to use powers already.

Flame like feeling stopped and Y/N gasped for breath in her driver seat. She hit the steering wheel a few times in frustration.

"God, maybe use your words next time?" Y/N venomously spat, glaring at the green eyes witch.

"Waste of my breath, hun. Girl talk isn't girl talk if you call your wolf man."

"Don't want girl talk." Y/N mumbled, still calming down from being hurt. She didn't want to anger her but sometimes it was hard to bite her tongue.

"Let's cut to the chase. You need to tell the wolves to lay off. Stop pacing around our area. Witch business is none of their concern" The witch knelt down and got closer to Y/N's face.

"Tell them that... You think they listen to me? Sure, I'm an imprint and I can voice my opinion, but the pack does as it chooses. I have no power over them." Y/N softly said.

"Seduction. You own your wolf. I'm familiar with how imprinting works. You control this man's life! So don't give me that 'I can't control anything' speech. You can and will relay the message."

Anger coursed through Y/N's veins. How dare the asshole witch act like Y/N can just suck off Embry and then he does whatever she says? He didn't own her, and she didn't own him. Insinuating that Embry was Y/N's toy made her want to scream. She kept calm and shook her head.

"You're oh so wrong..." Y/N mumbled shaking her head, "You should've talked to them because Embry is not going to be happy when he finds out you did this. Infuriated, actually."

"Wow, so Embry is his name? It's a handsome one, truth be told." The witch stood back up.

"Don't."

The witch's tongue poked out to wet her lips before she spoke in a scary calm tone, "Do as I say...you'll live. Simple. task. Look, I'm not stupid, I would never face a wolf alone and right now I'm the only one home. But you see, 'm getting rather fed up with all the sneaking around our place. I'm actually angrier than I thought...."

"shit" Y/N whispered

The witch looked at Y/N thoughtfully, "Maybe if I hurt you a bit, they would get the hint..."

Y/N shook her head, "You said you know about imprinting, but obviously not enough because going after a wolf is idiotically stupid. They're sacred. Not to be messed with. They would die for us."

At that moment snarking was heard. Y/N felt a tear of happiness roll down her cheek as she felt relief rush through every cell in her body like a river that had been dammed up. Embry was about to save her ass.

The witch jumped around in time to see Embry approach. She flicked her wrist as if to hurt him the way she hurt Y/N, but she was quickly jumped on by Bella. Bella choked her so that she would pass out.

Jacob ran out of the woods to help Bella tie up the woman's arms and legs. Embry shifted back, scrambling to throw on shorts and racing to your side.

His hands grasped her face as he checked her for any injuries. His stony expression broke as he cried out in relief, kissing Y/N's face all over.

"Baby, thank God we found you!" Em exclaimed, hugging her to his chest. Tears flowed down her face. That witch scared the daylight of out Y/N, and Embry saved her life.

°°°°

Hours later Embry sat with his chin on the edge of the bathtub while his lovely imprint sat inside of it. Bubbles filled the area up to her chest. Embry's heightened eyes couldn't see anything besides her shoulders and head. Her hair sat delicately in a bun to avoid getting damp.

Embry smiled smittenly at how pretty she looked in the candle light. Her doe eyes stared back at him equally lovingly. She blushed, looking away and sinking deeper into the water.

Baths always made her feel better, and after the day the imprint had, she needed one. As soon as they got home Embry ran the water and helped her in.

50's music softly played through the bluetooth speaker as the couple shared such an intimate moment.

Embry interlocked one of his hands with his imprint's soapy ones, "Thought I was gonna lose you today..." He murmured, brining the interlocked hands up so that he could kiss hers.

"For a while there, me too..."

Embry whimpered and kissed her hand a few times to center himself. Seeing that witch in front of his soulmate awakened things inside of him that he never knew he had in him.

He wanted to rip the witch's limbs slowly one by one, her screams echoing through the land. He wanted the witch bitch to beg for mercy and apologize relentlessly until her last breathe. But then his eyes moved to his scared girlfriend, and all he thought about was getting to her as soon as he could. Holding her in his strong arms and assuring her that all would be okay.

"Talked to Jake and I'm not patrolling for a while. Can't leave you again." He said with every fiber of his heart.

Y/N nodded, understanding that his inner wolf was still going crazy from the danger she had been in. She felt guilty for being dumb enough to leave the house over a hammock.

"Thank you for not yelling at me. I deserve it, like big time. I went to buy a fucking hammock. All of this, over a fun outside prop..." Y/N ranted, angry with herself.

"I was going to, but three seconds after I realized you were in danger... Scolding you was the last thing on my mind. Telling you to stay home and then never being there was hard on you, I get that. I'm sorry." He confessed.

Embry blamed himself. He knew Y/N hated being at home and with him not being there, she would hate it even more. His Y/N was a social woman and restricting that wasn't right. Not without him keeping her company.

"Apology isn't necessary, but thank you. Im a grown woman who should have more common sense."

A comfortable silence settled over the pair. Embry stroked his thumb across her hand as her eyes fluttered shut. She was tired and he could tell.

"Love bug, why don't we dry you off and go to bed? We could both use sleep, hmm?"

She sleepily nodded.

Ten minutes later Embry spooned Y/N, squeezing her close as he could without hurting her. He felt her body shake a bit. Concern filled his face as he lifted up to look at her through the moon light.

"Y/n?"

She turned and instead of crying, she was laughing. Laughing so hard that her body was shaking. Embry slightly smiled, unaware of how to react.

"I bought a hammock today. I risked my life... For a hammock. But hey," she laughed harder, "now we can use it whenever. Because we have so much time alone. Trapped here."

Embry now grinned. He knew she was delirious and tired, but he thought it was cute, "We can lay in it tomorrow, all day. Just us." He whispered, nuzzling his nose agaisnt her cheek.

Y/N stopped laughing, "Id like nothing more. I'm so in love with you," she whispered suddenly serious. He felt his heart flutter as her lips brushed against his. He lost his breath as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Tease" he mumbled, caressing her face to bring her in for a propper kiss. She hummed as she pulled her wolf closer to her, drugged by his closeness. His warm body heat made her toasty as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. She slightly pulled away.

"Warm me up, wolf boy." She said, kissing him once again. Embry almost lost his Y/N, but God was she alive with him at 2 am. Very alive.

#embry call imagine #embry call #twilight imagine

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [27]

Masterlist

Warning: gore ;)

~^*^~

Stalking down the hallway, Jack was in a fury. Trust Daniel to take advantage of a desperate situation. Turning the corner, Jack almost collided with a very familiar person.

“Hi Jacko!” She beamed.

“Don’t call me that.” Jack grumbled.

“Oh,” her eyes landed on Dracula, “hello again, you.” Immediately, her eyes glossed over. She was clearly trying to flirt.

“Hello again, Chelsea.” Dracula smiled, which faded when Jack glared sharply at him. He didn’t know what had happened but considering how badly Jack’s nostrils were flaring, it wasn’t good.

“I’m surprised to see you here. Considering the situation, I thought you’d broken up with [First].”

“They did.” Jack replied for Dracula, and Chelsea sent him a look as if to say ‘shut it!’

“Shame. Well, should you ever want another young adventure...”

“No thanks,” Dracula began, “I’m afraid I prefer my food a little less... handled.”

Her face immediately reddened and Jack had to admit that pride swelled in his chest. Dracula was slowly becoming a pro at comeback culture. Oh god, he wish he had a camera to take a picture of the shock and offence settling on Chelsea’s face because he knew that you of all people would have loved to see it. Thinking of you, he needed to hurry to the apartment.

Chelsea quickly composed herself to scowl at Dracula.

“You’re too old for me anyway, granddad.” Dracula chuckled at her words.

“Touched a nerve?” He teased with a low and soft voice.

“You wish.”

“You wish.”

“Alright!” Jack interjected nervously, “we need to go pick [First] up.”

As if on cue, the door halfway down the hallway burst open and a bag flew out, smashing against the wall and crashing to the floor. Following it, your voice, screaming all sorts of profanities. Okay, you were upset.

Dracula narrowed his eyes, pushing past the pair and making his way further down the hallway. Your voice was strangled and hoarse. Were you crying...?

A male’s voice came in, cutting off your own in an angry rant. Dracula did not know what had gone on, but nobody - nobody - made you cry. This green fuel coursing his body was unfamiliar. It was strange. He didn’t know why it burnt in the bottom of his chest, or why it was making his steps grow with each passing second. He just knew that he was about to grab this asshole speaking to you like you were nothing and throw him through a wall.

You stepped backwards, out of the door, still looking inside of the apartment. Your face was red with tears streaming down your face.

“Was this your plan all along?” You were trembling, “accept me into your life in my hour of desperation and just use me for a quick shag?!”

“We aren’t even dating! I don’t get why you’re so upset!”

“Because you- because you kept telling me how much you’d missed me! You kept begging me to give myself to you again! And I did and then- then- you bring that filth in! You fucked her like you fucked Lucy!”

So it was Daniel after all. Infamous Daniel who had shattered your heart. Dracula had to thank him in some respects. Had you not needed to flee to Whitby, you may have never met. Right now, Dracula couldn’t imagine waking up in the 21st century and not meeting you. How differently would it have gone? Would he still have had to kill Zoe? Would Jack even be here? Would Lucy have died?

Who knew? The only thing Dracula knew was the green seeping into his mind, and the red beginning to cloud his vision. Not a soul on this fucking planet was allowed to upset you.

“That’s- not fair.” Daniel’s voice softened.

“Is it not?!” You shrieked, “but you bringing that-!” You cut your self off with a noise of anger, running your hands through your scalp and tugging on the roots of your hair. You bit your lip, turning and freezing.

“Don’t let me halt you from finishing your sentence.” Dracula spoke, voice very soft. His eyes had also softened at the sight of you. You were at breaking point.

“Drac...?” your voice was so sweet, so hoarse. Dear god, you oozed sadness in every fibre of your being right now.

“Hello, darling.”

“Why did you bring him?” You were looking past him now, a furious gaze at Jack.

“I thought maybe you’d like to-“ Jack began.

“You thought wrong. You-“ you turned back to the apartment, pointing at the male who was still inside. Dracula had not seen him in person yet, “you can fucking rot in hell. If I ever see you again, I swear to god I will literally tear your voice box out of your throat.”

“[First]-“ Dracula began, but he was the next one to receive your anger.

“Don’t you even start. If you had just controlled yourself for once-! If you had just a tiny,” you motioned with your fingers, “tiny ounce of self control and left Renfield alone, this wouldn’t have happened!” You were in a rage, “I really don’t want to see you right now.”

Ouch.

“You’re being a right bitch, you know that?” Daniel’s voice came from the apartment and you flew into a fury. You turned, the bag that had fallen to the floor was in your hand and you launched it at him.

“Shut the fuck up, manwhore!”

“Um, ow?”

~^*^~

The guest bedroom at your parents’ house felt weird. You refused to sleep in your own bedroom, though.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know why you were angry at Dracula. You were just being... difficult. You were, of course, fully blaming him for turning Renfield, but how was anyone to know that Renfield would suddenly become obsessed with hunting you down? All of you knew that Dracula wouldn’t have turned him if this was the outcome. He probably would have fired him on the spot, had he known.

How had it gotten like this?

You wondered what Dracula was doing right now. After your outburst, he was either on his way to kill you himself in a possessive outburst of his own, or he was going to leave you and let Renfield find you. There was no way that he would possibly stand up for you now.

Oh, how wrong could you possibly have been...

A new box was sitting in the place of the old one - the centre of the room that usually remained locked. It was rocking violently. Dracula tutted. What a shame. He didn’t have any time to waste with his newest addition. Oh, no, he had somewhere very important to be. Anger had been bubbling in his chest all day. He looked quite disheveled, his usually neat white shirt untucked, the first few buttons undone, the sleeves lazily rolled up.

The drive to his destination was slow and bothersome. Rush hour traffic - especially in London - was a force to be reckoned with. Even against a vampire. But Dracula didn’t feel like making a magical entrance. He wanted to make sure he was understood, that his point would come across.

Too long, he had been bothered by this whole ordeal. Too long, the pain had been felt.

He was going to put a stop to it.

He remembered the way easily, slamming his car door and stalking forwards. This was going to be so fun. He smirked.

And then, he was at the door. He knocked.

“Who is it?” The voice called.

“Open the door and find out.” Dracula called back.

He heard a sound. Then silence. Perhaps he was expected to leave if the door didn’t open for him. He rolled his head, readying himself. Limber up. He was technically an OAP, after all. He’d need to ready his body.

Silence.

He stepped back, and then the sound, like an explosion as with all the force he had, he kicked the door in. It flew open, smashing against the wall, the handle lodging itself into the wall. Standing on the other side of the room, almost cowering, the being that made a snarl come from Dracula’s mouth. Undeath wouldn’t do. Utter destruction. That would be the only way.

“Hello, Daniel. We haven’t met. I’m Dracula.” He grinned, a demented kind of grin. The kind you’d associate with a murderer.

“You-...” how could he say anything?

“Cat got your tongue?”

“What are you doing here?”

Dracula took a good look at him. 5’7”, 8” at a push. He wasn’t very muscular, he’d be easy to overpower. He was trying his hardest to look intimidating, but Dracula, who just stood there, doing nothing at all, was clearly the alpha here.

“Well, you see, I just couldn’t stop thinking about the way you treated [First] today,” Dracula began, “or the last time you were with her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Boy, he couldn’t hide the terror in his voice no matter how hard he tried.

“You treat women like they’re nothing. You treat them like toys to be disposed of once you’ve had enough. [First], Lucy, Chelsea, goodness knows how many more...” Dracula turned, and Daniel watched as he plucked the door from the wall as if it were merely a dart, and shut it softly behind him. He closed in, towering above the younger, “you hurt her. You have no respect for her. I can’t let you get away with that.”

“You’re fucking crazy.” Daniel whispered.

“I’m crazy...?” Dracula amused, pulled up an eyebrow, “you dared to hurt the only thing a vampire cares about.”

“...vampire...? Now I know you’re batshit.”

“Actually, just bat.”

His eyes darkened. His lips curled. He was overcome with the anger, the jealousy, the sheer... whatever the fuck it was. It was all in his chest and the urge to just dive into ruining the pathetic man before him swallowed him whole.

The screams that filled the room would never have been able to truly disclose what occurred in that room. Limb from limb, Dracula tore Daniel apart, taking his sweet time. Starting with each of his fingers, moving to his toes. He wanted the pain to last as long as possible. Blood was already soaking the carpet, Daniel’s body shaking violently with the shock. Using his nails, Dracula ripped his skin to ribbons, creating such a mess of his form. The blood... for the first time, Dracula knew that it wasn’t worth tasting. He didn’t need to inherit any part of the filth that he was slowly picking apart. Instead, he let it colour the carpet crimson. Occasionally, ripping off a digit, a jet of red would spurt out, splashing the wall.

The screams that ripped through Daniel’s throat concealed the sound of flesh and skin and bone tearing away from each other as Dracula tore his left arm away.

“Never again will you wrap your arms around my [First].”

Daniel was close to fainting. No longer bearing toes or fingers or an arm. He was bleeding profusely. The pain throbbed through his whole body. It was so intense that every other sense was drowning away.

Next came his other arm, torn off wth just as much vigour and he collapsed to his knees, sobbing.

“I don’t think so.”

Digging his hands into the blond locks, Dracula pulled him back up to his feet. His nails cut into the skin, blood flowing over his fingers. How he was able to withstand the stench of the blood, he didn’t know.

“Stay there.”

Dracula stood back to admire his work. Blood was seeping down Daniel’s face, mixing with his tears, dripping from his chin. Where his arms should have been, blood was pouring, too. The white of the bones where his arms should have connected poked out, flesh rugged and torn. Mangled strands of muscle flailed as the body shook with the terror, the shock, the sobs, the screams of utter agony. He was finding it hard to stand with the lack of his toes, each little space where the toe should be losing blood by the second, the whites of the bones also showing.

Dracula snarled, moving forwards once more. Daniel recoiled, but Dracula reached out to grab his nose. A disgusting crack filled the room, followed by a high-pitched, pain filled scream. Dracula twisted, feeling the cartilage crack and bend to his will. He pulled. A long strand of skin, from the bridge of his nose to the top of his hairline came off with the cartilage. Blood erupted from the gaping hole in his face and his eyes rolled back. He collapsed to the ground.

But, he was still conscious.

Dracula took his time dismembering the rest of his body, and then sat for a while, picking the flesh off of the bone, as if bored. He was slumped against the radiator, which was hot against his back. His raven locks were dripping crimson, specks of the same colour on his face. The white shirt was stained a deep red all over and he knew that the moment he left this room, he’d cause uproar.

The room was beginning to really stink of blood and there were chunks of flesh everywhere, over every piece of furniture, the walls, the ceiling. The only thing still intact was his head, resting on the sofa, nose and ears gone, blood oozing from the bottom. Dracula had really made a mess.

His eyes snapped open.

What had he just done...?

What would you say when you found out?

~^*^~

If the fire in the middle of the room wasn’t a cause for concern, the naked vampire standing next to it definitely was.

“Jesus!” Jack cried out, covering his eyes with his hand, “did you suddenly forget that nudism isn’t exactly accepted in the 21st century?”

“Actually, I just had to do a little airing out with some of my clothes.” Dracula explained.

“Is that why you’re having a bonfire in the middle of the apartment?”

“Something like that.” Dracula turned away from Jack, who refused to uncover his eyes.

It was late, and he had simply come to tell Dracula that you were safely dropped off. He wanted to go home almost straight away, but something about the scene he had just walked into made him have a feeling that something wasn’t right.

“Why...?”

“I just told you-“

“No, why are you burning those clothes...? What did you do to them...?”

“I will tell you, Jack, but, you must promise not to fall out with me.” Dracula turned back to him and Jack uncovered his eyes, but held out his hand to block Dracula’s... well, you know, from his vision. The look of disgust was evident on his face.

“Dracula, what did you do?”

“I killed Daniel.”

Jack froze up in shock. Dracula had gone to Daniel’s apartment? Oh god, what was he going to tell you? Was Dracula out of his mind or was he just driven by stupidity? Of course, you were currently in a place of hating Daniel, but for him to be killed by Dracula...

“Again, why...?” Jack asked warily.

“Because he hurt [First].”

“You’re crazy.” Jack whispered.

“Funny, that was one of Daniel’s last words.”

“She won’t forgive you.” Jack stated, stepping backwards towards the door.

“...I know.”

“I’m gonna-“

“Don’t tell her.”

“I have to, Dracula.”

Before he could make it to the door, Dracula had gotten ahold of him, and pinned him against the wall by his neck. The look in his eyes was deranged.

“Don’t.” Dracula growled.

But it didn’t matter if Jack told you or not, because your mother had just received a phone call, and was rushing up the stairs in tears to break some very bad news to you.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026 @savebensolo-ordie

#:)))))))))) #still not as good as my infamous suitcase scene #anyway #something different #dracula #bbc dracula #netflix dracula #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #netflix dracula x reader #claes bang #claes bang x reader #matthew beard

[thesoundofnat]

Heaven, apparently

Poe/Finn

Summary: Poe keeps complimenting Finn, panicking, and running away. It becomes a problem.

A/N: The first scenario was based on this. I hope you like it! No association with and therefore no spoilers for The Rise of Skywalker.

Words: 2 079

Poe could remember running, a crash, and then: blinding pain before he presumably passed out. Now he blinked and blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, body heavy with involuntary sleep of some sort, but his head didn’t make him want to die, so he reckoned that was something.

“Am I in heaven or hell?” he asked, voice low, the question making sense to him, but evidently not to Finn, whom Poe was starting to see take shape before him.

Finn blinked, almost mimicking him. “Uh, you’re in my quarters?”

Poe tried to sit, but Finn’s hands were right there, light on his shoulders as he pushed him back down. Poe didn’t protest, simply groaned. Yeah, it could’ve been worse, but he could feel so so much better too.

“So heaven?” he mumbled, realizing the effort it took to speak, but not being able to shut up anyway. “Thank god.”

“What-” Finn fell silent, and had Poe not just woken up from a mild concussion, as he was told afterward, he might’ve realized what he’d said.

Instead, he remembered it much much later when Jess, who had been present along with apparently a handful of other people from the Resistance, recounted the moment.

“Oh no,” he cried, wishing she would show him mercy for once and let him be oblivious. “Did I really?”

She shrugged, her lips twitching with a grin she tried to hold back. “You did. It was cute.”

“That’s fucking terrible.”

“Oh, come on, it just shows you trust him.”

Poe shook his head, even though they’d told him to not make any quick movements. Jess’ fault, he would tell them. “I can never face him again.”

“Poe,” she sighed, exasperated. “This doesn’t mean you have to come clean about liking him, even though I think you should. You were delirious. He didn’t seem to understand the compliment anyway.”

“Oh, he did,” Poe said sadly. “He’s smarter than you think, Jess. He probably just didn’t know what to say.”

“So you find his space comforting. What’s wrong about that?”

What indeed.

Poe wasn’t calmed by her words, despite knowing how logical they were. Apparently he’d always been obvious about his crush, but never to Finn. Never to him.

Coward. Always a coward, terrified of his own emotions and how they could - and had - ruined things for him beyond repair. But still he felt. Still he felt.

He avoided him. Could anyone blame him? He wasn’t being obvious about it. He didn’t turn on his heels if he walked into a room where Finn was, or dive into a conversation with someone else if Finn started approaching him. He just didn’t seek him out. Didn’t initiate the late night conversations he was so fond of. Treated him like any other.

But Finn wasn’t like any other. Not even close.

“Can I talk to you?” Finn asked, having come out of nowhere. So sudden Poe was genuinely startled, his first instinct to run, run, run. Since when had he been afraid of Finn?

“Sure,” he said, ignoring his rioting heart. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk in private?” Finn looked around, the people around them busy, but close enough to eavesdrop had they wanted to. Poe could appreciate his caution.

“My room or-” Or yours. Heaven, apparently.

“Yours works.”

They walked in silence. It was eerie. They could have comfortable silences, but their mouths never seemed to be able to keep quiet for too long when they were together. Poe loved that about their relationship. They had an understanding, but their never-ending conversations made it stronger. A constant development. Always communicating. No wonder Finn was about to ask him why he’d suddenly gone quiet.

But when they reached Poe’s quarters, he asked him how his head was.

“What?”

“Your head.” Finn tilted his own, scowling. “Is it hurting? Giving you trouble? I never got around to asking.”

“Oh.” Poe rubbed at the bump. “Not really. It keeps me from tagging along on missions, which is awful, but other than that, it’s healing.”

“Good.”

Poe blinked. “You wanted to talk in private to ask… that?”

Finn shrugged, sheepish. “In case you wanted to talk, but not worry anyone else.”

“Ah.” Poe had to grin. “You’re cute. I mean-” Shit, shit, shit. “The thought was cute. Sweet, is what I’m trying to say. Considerate.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Poe?”

“I gotta go.”

“We’re in your room.”

“You can stay if you want.”

“Where are you going?”

Poe didn’t reply. Only ran.

That went well!

*

From that day on, Poe’s mouth refused to obey him whenever he was around Finn. He could have blamed the concussion the first time, and partly the second time, but he was running out of excuses now. It was getting ridiculous.

His crew were having the time of their lives watching him fumble, evidently.

“You act like a fool,” Snap said, his grin making Poe flush almost as much as his words.

“I can’t help it,” he whined. “There’s just… something about him. I have to compliment him.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Rose said, sweet Rose, who had kissed Finn once and instantly apologized to Poe of all people. “I just don’t think running away each time helps. I bet he’s confused.”

“I mean, friends can compliment friends, right?”

“Sure, but you never compliment me,” Jess said, mock offended.

“Sure I do.”

“Not in the way you compliment Finn.”

Poe let out a laugh. “That’s a bit different, isn’t it?”

“Because you’re in love with him?”

Love. Dear god. “I’m not! I- it’s not like that.”

She was shaking her head. “Oh, Poe. You can’t call this a crush anymore.”

He crossed his arms. “I wasn’t aware you were in my head.”

“I know you. I’ve practically been on top of you for years now. You have signs.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” he said, turning away from them, if only to hide his constantly burning cheeks. Truly he would be the first man in the universe to die of embarrassment.

“Ouff.” In his haste to flee he’d walked right into Finn himself; literally stumbling back from having hit his chest. “Finn! Buddy. Didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly.” Finn’s tone was light, his smile teasing. “Better watch where you’re going, old man.”

“Old?” Poe was shaking his head, aware of the wide grin he couldn’t help. “Now you’re just being mean to be mean,” he said, poking at Finn’s ribs, making him back away with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he replied, hands in front of him. “It was a joke.”

“You used to be able to handle those once, Poe,” Snap said somewhere behind him, and Poe remembered where he was, who he was, and took a step away from Finn.

“Oh, come on now,” Jess was saying. “He can definitely handle those. He just likes pretending to be upset.”

“He is standing right here,” Poe said, rolling his eyes.

“Sorry. It seemed as if you were a little occupied staring at Finn to defend yourself.”

“Can you blame me?” Jesus fucking Christ, Dameron. “I mean-” He saw his friends nearly facepalm.

“Blame you?” Finn was frowning when Poe chanced a look at him. “What-”

“Gotta go.”

“Poe, come on.” Finn’s voice sounded so small now. Almost pleading.

But Poe had never handled these things well, so he left anyway. Left like a coward.

*

Finn found him. Not that he was hiding, necessarily, but thus far Finn hadn’t purposefully sought him out to talk about what the hell was happening with him, which Poe assumed he wanted to bring up when he walked up to where he was sitting. Poe didn’t even have anything in front of him to pretend to be busy. He was just sitting, staring straight ahead until he had to look at Finn, finally, who had taken a seat beside him.

“Hi,” he said, because Finn wasn’t saying anything and it was somehow worse.

“Hi.” Poe was the cause of that wrinkle between his eyebrows. He didn’t like it. “You didn’t have to run away.”

“I didn’t.”

“Poe.”

Poe deflated. “Okay, I did.”

“They were just messing with you. I know you can handle a joke.”

Ah. So maybe Finn hadn’t caught the compliment after all. Or maybe he thought it didn’t matter. Poe wasn’t sure what was worse.

“Right.” Poe squirmed in his seat, forcing himself to not look away. “They’ve just been… a lot. Recently.”

“You’ve been quite jumpy recently.”

“Right. Well. They won’t let me be and it doesn’t help.”

“Should I talk to them?”

Poe waved a hand at him. “Nah. I’ll deal with it.”

“Okay.” Finn crossed his arms. “You wanna talk about why you’re so skittish then?”

Damn. “Not really?”

Finn snorted. “Fair enough. I won’t push. Not yet, at least.”

Poe ran a hand through his curls. “When will you push then?”

“When it starts becoming a problem.”

“So never?”

“We’ll see about that, Dameron.”

*

It was becoming a problem. Had probably been one since this whole mess started.

Finn was too damn beautiful for Poe to not compliment him. Over and over. Saying shit like “your eyes are pretty” and “I never mind when it’s you” when Finn was just trying to hold a regular conversation with him. The fifth time Poe ran away that week was when he knew Finn was done with his bullshit, mostly because he followed him down the hallway rather than just letting him go.

“What’s your problem?”

Exasperation, maybe hurt. Not mere irritation or confusion, but actual real concern in his voice now. Poe’s fault.

He rubbed at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m having a hard time accepting your apology if I don’t know what’s wrong.” The anger was out of his voice as quickly as it had arrived. “Talk to me, Poe.”

“I want to,” Poe said, almost a whisper. “Trust me, I do, but-”

“But?”

“I feel like I could mess things up so easily if I do.”

“How bad can it be?”

“Bad enough to ruin us.”

“Us?”

Poe leaned against the wall, giving up, giving in. “I’m sure you’ve noticed my strange behavior has only been related to you, right?”

“I’ve had an inkling.”

Poe had to smile. “Of course you did. You’re smart.” He fought against the urge to turn on his heels and flee after the compliment. That was a regular fucking compliment, Dameron. It could be given to anyone, calm down. “Well. Uh. It’s… complicated.” He shook his head. “It’s not. I don’t know why I said that. It’s really easy, actually.”

“So tell me.”

“That part’s harder.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s like ripping my heart out and handing it to you.” Poe shut his eyes. Couldn’t do much else. “And even though I trust you, trusting your heart to someone is a lot. It’s unsafe.”

Finn didn’t say anything, but Poe felt his hands on his cheeks, but it was too much, too much, so Poe couldn’t look.

“Poe.”

He opened his eyes to see Finn in front of him, looking like a goddamn angel. “Stop.”

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Finn didn’t let go of his cheeks. “Like what?”

“Like you reciprocate.”

“You like me.” Not a question.

Poe inhaled. “Too much for my own good.”

“Why’s that?”

“I look at you and I act a fool.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” A pause. “And I do reciprocate.”

Poe narrowed his eyes. “You do?”

“Of course.” Finn licked his lips. “That’s why I never confronted you about the compliments. They felt too good to be true and I didn’t want to hear you say they didn’t mean anything.”

“They meant everything.”

When they kissed, it was with desperation; both of them clutching at each other for dear life, and Poe kept thinking that this was real, real, it was fucking real, he could feel Finn’s back and lips and breath. Finn’s hands in his hair.

“You’re too good for me,” Poe said when they broke apart, and Finn rolled his eyes, breathless.

“We need to work on your confidence, Poe. Have you seen yourself?”

Poe briefly wondered what he’d feel if Finn ran away after the dropped compliment, but he relished in the fact that he could just lean in with a laugh and kiss him again and again and again. He needed to make up for his running away, but he realized he had a whole life to make it up to him now.

#finnpoe #stormpilot #star wars fic #finnpoe fic #stormpilot fic #star wars #mine #heaven apparently #nat writes

[kondraki]

what's the worst shit you've ever taken at the foundation?

July 19, 1998. About 4:39pm (time beginning). I remember it well. I hadn’t had a shit in over a day, which is unusual for me (generally I can count on a nice daily shit, which I personally think is the best way to go – no more, no less). I’m a bit worried, but not too much. Everything is quiet down there; no rumbling, no bubble guts. Now I realize my naivety. It was only the calm before the storm.

I am not sure what I was thinking, but I had had a lot of dairy that day. I’m not lactose intolerant, but when I’m stressed I do have a sensitivity to all the usual suspects – dairy, gluten, that stuff. Starting the evening before, I’d managed to consume a milkshake, several huge plates of cheese fries, several huge slices of cheese pizza, all washed down with copious amounts of coffee and the odd sip of vodka. I was a lot younger back in the day, so usually this wouldn’t cause me too much discomfort. However, one’s luck must always run out. That day was the day.

As I said, I felt fine. Right up until the moment I no longer felt fine, everything was going great. I’m walking up a hallway (thankfully a lesser trafficked one) and feeling great, and then… I sense it. A disturbance in the gentle fauna of my gut. Now, I’m no stranger to shitfests. Stress is a bitch on the gut. I’ve spent a fair few shifts gripping the bottom of the toilet bowl like it might be able to save me from my fate. There truly is no god in the bathroom. Anyway, I’m walking along, and I feel that little rumble. That little… movement. 

Immediately I go into survival mode. I know I have roughly thirty seconds before this is all over. I take five of these precious seconds to home in on my location and bring up my mental map of site bathrooms, which I have for this specific purpose (years of stress shitting will make you a physical Google Maps of bathrooms). I realise there’s a bathroom not too far away, but sometimes it’s locked. There’s another bathroom close by, but it’s roughly forty seconds away including a short elevator ride. Do I risk going to the first bathroom and finding it locked, or do I risk going to the second and getting stuck in an elevator (a great fear of mine) and then shitting myself, thereby gassing myself in the stench? 

A fart slips out. It was only a fart, but I know it was a close one. It’s also so hot it singes my ass hairs, and stinks so bad I can almost see the cartoon stink lines. I know I’m in trouble. I go for the first bathroom. There’s a storage closet nearby – if the worst happens, I can probably just shit in a mop bucket or an empty box or something. Off I go. The first half of the journey is uncomfortable but bearable. There’s a lot of movement going on in my gut that gets gradually worse. By the time I reach the hall the bathroom is on, I’m starting to think I have an idea of what it’s like to be pregnant. I remember when my son’s mother was pregnant with him and I would feel him kicking around in the womb, and she would try to explain how it felt from her perspective, but of course I couldn’t imagine. At that moment, I think I had a good idea. It felt like something was alive in there, rolling around and pressing against my organs. It was a strange feeling, but one with fond associations. That was my last moment of happiness for forty minutes.

I reach the bathroom. Mercy of mercies, it’s unlocked, but I barely register that. I stumble through the door, walking like I’ve already shat myself. I cannot unclench my ass, less the swamp within unleashes itself. I’m ashamed to say it, but I consider just dropping my pants and shitting on the floor and getting out of there. Some of my conscience remains, and I shuffle to the stall. There’s no time to check if there’s toilet roll. There’s no time to do anything. I’m unzipping and unbuttoning as I approach the bowl, and then it hits me – how am I gonna turn and sit on the bowl? As soon as I crouch, it is all over. I waste a precious second considering this conundrum, but then, with a grimace and a deep sense of resignation, I realize I’m completely at the mercy of this shit. I have no choice but to get this over with, and then try and work from there.

I whip my pants and undies out of the way (or at least, I hope I do). As I do so, I turn and begin to sit. Usually I like to get my pants all the way down around my ankles, but there’s no time. I’m shitting before I even hit the seat. I miss the back of the toilet, but not the back of the seat. I have to sit in some of the shit. Alright, that’s gross, but I’ve had a newborn by that point. I’ve had shit on places I don’t want there to be shit. I’m kind of relieved that it’s my own, which is not a great bar to set, but do I look like I’m in a position to be choosy right now? I should mention that this shit is completely puréed liquid. I mean, it feels like I’m sitting in a warm, half-blitzed smoothie. The smell is… I don’t even know. I am a writer, and I am a person who has seen unfathomable things, but even with these two major advantages I cannot describe how it smelled. It smelled hot, for a start. You know what I mean. The stench of this shit singed my god damn nose hairs. It was rancid. It was pungent. It made me consider the duality of man – how could my body have contributed to making something as wonderful as my son, yet still be the vessel to create this monstrosity? I do not mean to keep bringing up my son in a story about the worst shit of my life, but you have to understand that such situations really do make a man consider life and death.

The initial blast tapers off, but I’m still going. By now I’m sat on the seat, and rather than my usual position (hands gripping the underneath of the bowl) I find myself leaning forward and briefly putting my face in my hands. I’m regretting my dietary choices now. I might be verbally cursing myself. I quickly have to sit up properly again because the hunching is crushing my stomach and making the pain worse. I did not know that shitting could be so painful. I mean, I’d experienced such things before, but this is… this is something else. I’m experiencing hot and cold flushes. My heartrate is dangerously elevated. I think about the celebrities that have been found dead on the toilet and wonder if that’s my fate. I consider the fact it might be kinder. Meanwhile, as I contemplate my possible death, the acoustics of my ass’s contribution to the world are deafening. I have never heard sounds like it. I think it might be like if somebody accidentally drilled a hole to hell. They would put their ear to the hole and the sounds from my hole is what they would have heard. The splattering, the guttural growls, several different pitches of farts all at once… I cannot possibly tell you how much I wished to temporarily lose my hearing. I considered trying to blow out my eardrums, but thought that might be too painful and cause me to fall off the bowl and further complicate my situation, so I decided I might as well just suffer.

Suffer I did. This continued for almost twenty minutes. I have no idea how that could have all fit inside my intestines. Four times, I reached behind me and flushed the toilet (I have learned the hard way not to let it pile up). The Poseidon’s kiss from each metric ton of shitwater eroded another piece of my psyche. Finally the smoothie shit tapered off and I was treated to a final hurrah of machine gun fire that pinged rock-hard little pellets right off the back of the porcelain, loud enough that it actually made me jump. Like a dog, I was frightened by my own ass. Then, silence. Sweet, sweet silence. 

I’m alive. I’m sweating, I’m actually trembling by this point, I’m breathless, my heart is in the range of BPM that’s probably dangerous, but I’m alive. I sit there for a long moment, the silence in the bathroom deafening after the hell I experienced, and then I realize that there’s still more hell to come – I have to, somehow, clean up. I take a slow breath and regret it (the flushing didn’t eradicate much of the stench). I rise to my feet.

I fall flat on the floor, shit-covered ass in the air. My legs have gone numb. For almost a minute I have to lay there, until I’ve wiggled my traitorous legs and feet around enough to be able to stand. There are pins and needles in my left leg, and every slight change in pressure makes me teeter precariously to the side. I reach for the paper dispenser. 

There is no toilet paper.

I don’t know what I expected. I stand there for a long moment, staring at the ajar door (I had no time to lock it), and something within me breaks. Fuck it, I think, and I stride – I do not shit shuffle, I do not waddle, I stride – into the next cubicle. No TP. Nor in the next. This is a small bathroom, so there are only three stalls. I stand there, holding my pants around my thighs in a big bunch like a Depression-era grandpa trying to keep his string-tied pants up his starving frame, and then it hits me. There’s a storage closet next door. Could it possibly contain TP? I edge to the door. I peer out. The hallway is clear. I slip out. The stench has permeated the hallway outside, but at least masks me as I creep to the storage closet and open the door. Thank god, there’s TP. I grab two packets of 24 rolls and jam it under my arms, and then I scuttle back into to bathroom like the disgusting mistake I am. I retreat back into the stall like a worm returning to the soil. I begin the immense task of cleaning up.

Now, I’m not a talented mathematician, but I’m fairly certain that two 24s is 48. Which means I had 48 rolls in there with me. By the time I was done, there were probably 10 or 11 left. My flushing was likely responsible for every drought in California since that date. Miraculously my pants and underwear had escaped splashage, but the poor toilet had seen better days, as had the trail of drips scattered throughout the bathroom and hall from my adventure. Even when I was done, there was still a disturbance in the atmosphere of the bathroom that would tell anyone who passed by what had happened in there (even though the stench probably had something to do with that). I had to utilize all three toilets to flush everything. Finally, exhausted, I stumbled to the basin and scrubbed my hands and arms all the way up to the elbow, like a surgeon prepping for an operation. I did this three times before I felt even remotely clean, and knew that I would have to return home for a long, hot shower before I thought about doing any more work.

There were of course no paper towels, and the hand drier was broken. I dry off my hands and arms as best as I can on my pants… and that’s when I notice that my walkie talkie, tuned to the general channel and clipped to my pants, had been on the entire fucking time.

#anon #asks