#i had people trying to control my stories and what I write

[eddiesguitarskills]

It Can't All Be Bullshit

Read part 2 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t seem to like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this and the next chapter have been in my drafts for far too long so I thought I'd post them (not the best piece of writing but I like the story) I have tried to prove read it but I have dyslexia so sorry for any mistakes

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, drug and alcohol use, swearing

Word count: about 2000 words

Halloween night 1985

Of all the people you had to have a crush on, why did it have to be your annoying, oblivious dork of a best friend? You knew you needed to get over it, and even if there ever was a chance of being with him, you feared you’d lose him. You weren’t what Eddie wanted in a girl, and you knew that. You were surprised he kept you around now with how much you nagged at him. It’s not like it was all the time, but someone had to look out for that boy, especially if he wasn’t going to do it for himself.

Eddie interrupted your plans for a Halloween movie night, which you had planned out for a month, costumes included. If anyone were to look at you together, they would assume you were a couple; most people did. You were dressed as Jack and Wendy Torrance from the shinning. He even let you put makeup on him to give him the frostbite effect. So when he suddenly announced he had to go to Tina’s party to deal, you were annoyed. You tried not to nag, even though you hated the sound of your voice at this point. Plus, he promised it would only be an hour tops, and then you could get takeout with some of his earnings so that you couldn’t complain, especially when he looked at you with those eyes. You could never say no.

You weren’t the biggest fan of drugs or him dealing them; you knew he was better than that life. But you understood how hard things were on him and his uncle, so as long as it wasn’t forever, it wasn’t really bad drugs, you let it be. You never liked to be around when he dealt, though. Something about watching it made you feel weird. You could never explain why. Eddie was kind, though, and he never did anything in front of you. He didn’t even smoke weed, especially after that one time when he got super paranoid and scared you. You weren’t part of that life. You didn’t do drugs, you didn’t drink, and you didn’t party. It’s not that you were boring. It was just never you. Hey, maybe you were boring, but at least you didn't need drugs to enjoy yourself. You liked to be in control.

You are currently leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, sticking out like a sore thumb with a Coke in your hand. You look at the clock, he’s 30 minutes late. You were trying to turn a new leaf, so you were trying to be understanding, even if his time-wasting was cutting into your Halloween plans. You couldn’t take your eyes off the clock, not like there were other things to watch at this party: teenagers making out, getting too drunk or being sick. The clock seemed more appealing. When it hit the 2-hour mark, you started worrying, so you looked for him. What you didn’t expect to find was him in the garden with a blunt in his hand and his other hand on a blonde’s thigh.

The voice in your head telling you not to nag was now becoming quieter with how annoyed you were. He ditched you, and he was smoking, which showed he had no intention of continuing your plans. He just wanted to get high and laid. “Eddie!” you said loud and stern enough for him to hear you, but too high he was in his bubble with his girl for the night. “Edward Munson!” you said louder; he only ever hears that name when in trouble, so subconsciously, he straightened his back and tried to hide the blunt, failing miserably. He turned around to face you, he waved “Hi darling”. You glared at him. “Are you high, darling?” a mocking tone coming from your voice, using his usual pet name for you against him.

He pitched his fingers together “a little”. Eddie always thought you looked cute when you were mad; he usually tried to get you a little angry so he could see that face. Usually, though, he could hide his smile and keep a straight face since he was sober. But now, when he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t; even more irritating for you, he couldn't stop giggling, making the girl to his right giggle, too. “If you wanted to go party instead, you should have told me; you didn’t need to lie”. If Eddie were sober, he would see how hurt you were, but in his mind, this was a joke, “you don’t have to stay. You can go home and watch the films. Tell me what happens”. You freeze; this is why you hated High Eddie; he never realised how hurtful he came across. How selfish he became. And when he finally sobers up enough to realise you must forgive him because he ‘wasn’t in his right mind’. It’s a frustrating cycle, which is why he stopped smoking in front of you. Except for now, apparently. That’s probably why he ditched you so that you wouldn’t find out.

Hurtful words were on your tongue, but you were in your right mind, so you could never say them. You knew you wouldn’t mean them. You were just hurt, so you stormed off straight out the front door, but when you made it to the front porch, it was like you were stuck in glue. You couldn’t leave whether he was being a dick or not. He was still your best friend, and you need to ensure he was safe. He shouldn’t drive high, and knowing him, he would try. So you waited. You couldn’t go back into the hell hole that was Tina’s Halloween party, so you waited on a porch swing. The air was bitter tonight, so you were glad your costume provided a jumper, not that it looked like a costume anymore without a partner to go with it.

Your eyes were drifting shut with how tired and bored you were, that was until you heard a huge slam come from beside you, making you flinch. You weren’t the only one having a terrible time at this party; Steve was having an even worse one. “You got cigarettes?”. He didn’t look at you, so you didn’t realise he was talking to you. That was until you felt his glare burning into you. You knew that look wasn’t meant for you, but it still made you feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was due to the shots you could tell he had taken from the blue tint to his lips, or perhaps he had gotten into a fight. But this look wasn’t meant for you, but it didn't make it any less scary when you were in his firing line. “Huh?”. With the way he spoke to you next, you could have sworn you had done something to hurt his feelings. “Are you deaf I said do you have any smokes?” he spoke slowly like you were a dumb child. He tutted at you and turned away from you “bullshit”. He kept repeating like a madman.

Jesus, was he that addicted to nicotine, you thought. Even if he did make you feel a little uncomfortable, especially since you knew he was a jock, and even though they didn’t necessarily pick on you because, in their words, “you were a girl,” they bullied your friends so you knew how bad they could be. But even for a jock, this was dramatic “fucking hell, I’m sorry, I don’t have any” you said a little sarcastically. He stopped his repetition and looked over his shoulder at you. “What?” He said with anger still laced in his voice, like you did anything to deserve his rage. You didn’t know why you were wasting your breath on him, but Eddie had pissed you off, and you needed to get the annoyance out somehow. “Are you deaf? I said I’m sorry, I don’t have any”.

He thought he knew girls well, but after tonight, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to figure out what was wrong with you either. He couldn’t be bothered by the grief. “Fuck off”. You couldn’t tell if his words were in reaction to what you said or if he meant it. That was until he repeated it, and you saw the look on his face, and the tears in his eyes that he didn’t realise were there. You didn’t know what was happening with him, but it was not your place to sort it. You were making it worse.

So you went back into the party, to look for two people, firstly Tommy Hagan everyone knew he was Harrington’s best friend, so even if you didn’t like Tommy you couldn’t leave someone when they were like that. It would only make you as bad as them. You found him around the beer pong table. You lightly tapped his shoulder as you couldn’t deal with another boy's wrath tonight. He turned around, looking you up and down, smirking. “What are you supposed to be a virgin?” You rolled your eyes. You knew you could think of a comeback and put him in his place, but now wasn’t the time; you needed to get him outside, and you didn’t want to announce that his friend, the king of Hawkin High, was crying on the lawn in front of everyone. You weren't cruel. “Can you just come outside with me?” The room erupted into “oh”, as if you were suggesting something sexual. “Wait, was I right about the virgin thing? Is the freak not giving you any? Do you want a real man instead?” He said, getting closer to you. He smelt of beer and body odour, but you let him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “Your boy is outside, and something’s happened. I’d go and sort it if I was you”. He looked at you confused and nodded. He walked out, but not before smacking you on the ass. “I’ll see you later, darling?”. God, he was the most enormous prick. You couldn’t hold your tongue anymore. “Is that with your girlfriend or alone?”.

Eddie came sauntering alone into the room after hearing your voice, “I hope you’re not starting fights”, he said, putting his arm around your shoulder out of comfort. You ignored his question, not wanting to get into it now. “You ready to go?” You looked at him and weakly smiled. Eddie couldn’t tell, though he was still high as a kite, just in the mellow stage, so all he could see was you smiling. You took the keys out of his pocket and led him to the van. On your way out, you walked past Tommy and Steve on the porch swing. Steve’s leg bounced. “She said we were bullshit”, he kept repeating; you were glad Eddie wasn’t sober enough to hear it. Otherwise, he would definitely use it against him. Everything about his mood towards you started to make sense. He and Nancy had clearly broken up. So you gave him a smile and a nod of acknowledgement as you left, which he only glared at. You didn't mind, though you were just glad he wasn’t alone, even if that meant being with Tommy.

You drove Eddie home, struggling to get his dead weight onto the bed and to get his shoes off. You were about to leave for your car outside when Eddie's hand grabbed for yours. “Stay”. This used to be one of the only things you liked about him being high, the cuddles and needing attention. However, right now, this was probably the worst thing for your heart when you were trying to get over him, but when you looked at his face, how could you say no if that made him happy, even if it would end up hurting you.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in the future

Masterlist here if you are interested

#eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things angst

[writinginthetwilight]

Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Nightmares. Sleep walking. Horror/creepy vibes. Shit jobs. Mentions of cheating. Let me know if you want any listed that I have missed. See the Masterlist for full list of warnings. 

Authors note: Thank you for all the love on the last part of this fic, it honestly makes me so happy that people are embracing this creepylittle story. This chapter made my brain melt a little but I'm excited to finally release it from its confinement.

As always all my love to @bettyfrommars  @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird world I'm making. You're the best.

6. You move into a new apartment and soon discover that you share a wall with a very noisy neighbor. Loud laughter, talking, and music are a constant companion. When you decide to go over and knock on their door to confront them in person, you find that the apartment is unoccupied and has been for months.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Love you bye.

Part 5 - The gods manual to the frail.

When you were small you longed for lucid dreaming.

The idea that you could control the vivid picture book of your unconscious mind was fantastical, to be able to puppeteer it to make you fly, race faster, fight stronger, it was overwhelming.

You soon learnt though that just because you knew you were asleep, that didn't stop your imagination from being overactive, didn't mean it would always play along.

Just as quickly as your mind could command you to fly it could also tell you to fall.

The bathroom door's wide open.

Your limbs are free, not rigid and wedged at the odd angles that usually come with being in this particular dream.

You're not alone though, you know it without seeing them.

A looming presence in your peripheral that's making your skin crawl.

Unseeing yet watching. No longer trapped in the shadows that writhed behind the bathroom door, they were out, watching you from the corners of your ceiling.

You can't look at them, an overwhelming knowledge overcoming you that to acknowledge them was to lose.

They slip like hot wax as they move, watching as you leave bed, your body's heavy and slow as you move through the dim light feeling your way, trying to escape.

You hear them move through the door frame above you quickly, wet and slick. Too fast.

You're asleep.

The reminder seems to make your body jerk as if your muscles had been released and the creatures chitter above you like cats stalking birds.

Your feet carry you clumsily through the main room as it stretches before you further than it should, the door you're trying to reach always suddenly behind you as soon as you start to make progress.

Panic rises as the creature's chitters get louder

Delighted.

You shouldn't have looked up.

The waxy unseeing faces twitch towards you and you don't know how you know they're smiling.

You start to run, faster and faster towards the door which never gets any closer.

Then the chittering stops.

You turn, watching as the creatures slither and melt into the cracks in the scar leaving you in dead silence.

Then you're falling.

You wake with a scream stuck in your throat, hands pressed against the uneven surface of the wall adjacent to your bedroom.

Your legs give way beneath you and you scramble backwards until your back hits the couch.

Breathings ragged and hands shaking you look up.

The scar sits quietly above you.

“Fuck you.”

So I spoke to this kid I know, well he's not exactly a kid he's 22 but I've known him since high-school…

Your forehead creases as you read your rambling morning letter from Eddie. Toast hanging out your mouth greasy spread sticking against the corner of your lips as you slowly dress into your rigid self appointed uniform.

It had become a routine in the days since you ‘met’, relaying back what you know slowly trying to put the puzzle pieces together of what was happening to you both.

He's going to send a mic over for my stereo. Do you think you can get one for yours? My haunting schedule varies…

You let out a snort as you throw the 'bottom of your refrigerator surprise' lunch into your bag, you're still not entirely sure he's not a ghost, but he no longer takes the bait to heart like he did, which makes it decidedly less fun to tease him.

.. It depends on which kids book lessons but they're always between 8 and 5. Bars 10-3 Fridays Saturday. I pick up extras where I can.

Batman Returns. No

Nirvana. Yes

Duran Duran. Unfortunately, yes.

Sepultura

Lost boys.

Donny Darco.

You frown at the last title listed in your ongoing ‘Does this exist 50 questions’.

That shouldn't be out yet.

Shoving the last of the toast in your mouth you scribble a note back to him, shaking off the crumbs when you're done and shouldering your rucksack before leaving.

The nightmares hadn't returned but the last one had left you anxious to fall asleep, any sleep you did get was short and light for fear of what you would fall into.

This was the fourth time the shadowy fucks had invaded your subconscious and every time, the images, the feeling, remained.

It's still there whenever you close your eyes for too long, like they're carved onto the inside of your skull.

But this last one was different.

It didn't feel like sleepwalking, all instances before sleepwalking had been more confusing than anything. Told to you by those who witnessed it but you yourself had little to no memory of what happened.

Then there was Eddie even when he was trying to be quiet, the man was a hurricane. Waking you when you had finally drifted off by rummaging around or having one of his late-night phone calls to whoever Wayne was.

The bus ride over to the office makes your eyelids heavy with its constant rhythm, the grey clouds muting the sun's glare into a comfortable warmth. You could easily just close your eyes, but every time they droop the hiss of a stop startles you upright.

The office is always too bright when you get there, grey walls and plastic plants welcoming you to the sea of desks under the fluorescents.

You tug at your fitted clothes, once your assigned funeral clothes and now your office outfit, it's fitting really, considering the place makes you feel dead inside.

Why you need to be smart casual for sitting at a desk for 8 hours is beyond you.

Shona's there as you sit down, cackling loudly into her headset. Your first day buddy, as they called her, hadn't really helped all that much. Told you where to sit then explained the office politics at such breakneck speed it gave you whiplash.

Surprisingly, or maybe less so now you know her, all those she seems to class as undesirables are the only people with decent conversation in this place.

The only saving grace to your tired soul is it's finally payday, due in your bank by closing time.

So you spend your day between calls, browsing microphones, looking up astral projection and Donny Darco.

You knew it came out later than 1993.

IT must think you're a riot.

A murmur goes across the office and Shona grins at you as she excitedly tells you she's going to go out for lunch.

You take out your phone quickly, opening your bank app. You can already smell the takeout, feel the new body wash on your skin, feel the comfort washing over you, you won't have to flinch every time a bill’s due.

Your stomach sinks through your feet and slithers out leaving you hollow.

The amount is low. Sickeningly so.

There must be an issue, a mistake, but as your payslip arrives in your email.

No.

New starter deductions.

Training.

Equipment.

Resources.

They go on, apparently Shona forgot to mention this, it slipped her mind she tells you with a pout before she breezes away.

You think you might hate Shona.

You shouldn't have, the little voice whispers in the back of your head.

You should have been sensible.

The takeout bag rustles from where it hangs from your wrist, it smells too good for you to regret it yet.

Your mood had soured by the minute until it was time for you to clock out and in some self sabotaging monetary cloud you decided for tonight, you were going to pretend that you'd been paid for the actual work you had done.

The apartment’s quiet when you enter and the tension in your shoulders drop a fraction at the sight of it.

Your rucksack falls to the floor, and you're popping the lid on the box of dumplings before you've even taken off your jacket.

The savoury cloud of steam that's released makes your mouth water and you groan at the first bite.

“Hey.”

The voice from above almost makes you choke and you wheeze, hands gripping the counter.

“Jesus Eddie. Why are you just sitting in silence like a creep? ”

“You're too loud Eddie. You're too quiet, christ.”

Tension floods your body again and misdirected anger makes you scowl at your food as you harshly put the lid back on.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading?” His voice is chipper and it instantly irritates you.

You don't respond, moving to your couch shedding your outer layers and popping the button round your waist before resuming eating.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” You say around another bite hoping he gets the hint.

He doesn't.

In his defence it's probably hard to read the room when you can't see anyone in it.

“So, I was thinking”

“Dangerous.” you quip smirking to yourself at the disgruntled noise he makes as you pop the lid on your noodles.

You take a bite. God this is good.

“I was thinking. You should investigate apartment 7.”

You pause, noodles mid way to your mouth.

“I should investigate number 7.”

“Yeah I mean nobody lives there where I am-.”

“How do you know anyone lives there where I am?”

“Well, do they?”

“I don't know.”

“That's why you need to investigate.”

“Nobody lives on your side of the apartment yet here we are.”

You're being intentionally obtuse, you'd vaguely spoken about this before but your voice is raising frustration making your voice wobble, you don't want to deal with this right now.

He's quiet and as the silence lingers you lean your head back closing your eyes.

“So how was work?”

You crack an eye and look at the scar.

“I thought you were reading.”

“I was. Until someone disturbed the peace.”

He's such a shit. You don't respond again, trying to breath away the brewing tension headache.

“Any plans for the weekend? “

You sigh loudly, sitting up and looking around.

You crack down the centre a little, the sparse room looking back at you only serving as a reminder of all the things you still need, and will have to go without for another 4 weeks.

“No.”

“Want to hang out or something. We could have a movie night.”

A breathless laugh leaves you. He says it like you could avoid each other.

“How would that even work?”

You had planned to make cookies as some sort of peace offering before going next door, if people elsewhere in the building had come to you to complain then anyone who was in there definitely heard.

But ingredients are expensive.

As you approach the apartment your door seems so far away, it's odd being on this side and makes you realise just how close together you and Eddie are.

You knock and wait, store bought cookies in hand, arranged on a plate and covered in saran wrap.

You hear a scuttle behind the door, like the quick footsteps of a child before it creaks open slowly.

“Oh, hi”

The emerging face is low like you had expected but instead of the smooth face of a child, an elderly woman peers at you from the growing space in the door. Boney fingers wrap round the edges as she reveals herself.

You introduce yourself, cringing at the fact you're using your work voice on a weekend.

She doesn't respond.

Merely stares at you with light blue eyes, and a smile on her face that shows no teeth but deepens the creases on her thin skin.

“I'm sorry if we've.. I've been loud. ”

Her eyes widen at your mistake, but she still doesn't respond, her stare unwavering her thin lipped smile the same.

“ Bea?”

A woman around your age appears in the doorway behind her and gives you a warm grin.

“Hi, can I help?”

Eyes pulling away from the older woman, you work your jaw for a moment as you feel her eyes still on you.

“I brought some cookies, I live next door, I moved in a few weeks ago, ” you fumble.

“Oh, that's so kind isn't it Bea, why don't you come in.”

“Oh no it's okay-”

“No, I insist.” The way she says it is firm and she leaves you holding the plate in the doorway as she gently manoeuvres the old woman away.

Shit.

As you step through over the threshold the smell of patchouli hits you so heavily that you feel like it's sinking into your skin.

Closing the door hesitantly behind you, you're hyper aware that you're now sealed off from the hallway which has the same deep red walls as the enormous room you now stand in.

Shelves clink softly as you walk into the middle of the open plan room.

Multitudes of soulless taxidermy joins the elderly woman in watching you as you make your way over to them.

“We don't get many visitors, do we Bea?” says the younger woman and Bea whispers something back as she helps her into her seat and gets a wry smile in return.

This feels weird.

Taking the plate from you she motions for you to sit.

“Always surprising me, she's quicker than she looks. Could obviously smell desert.” she laughs as she turns away.

“Yeah. ” you trail off, turning to glance at the elderly woman, who's still smiling but a little wider now, still staring, fingers drumming against the linen tablecloth quickly.

“Well I'm Nell, and this is Bea, I live upstairs.”

“Oh, erm, how long have you lived here?” you say fidgeting in the hard seat, trying to ignore the way the woman's stare is boring a hole into you.

She chuckles, “Around 6 years now and Beas been here forever.”

Bea breathily mutters something to Nell you can't catch and she laughs before patting her arm and placing a cookie on a small plate in front of her.

She offers you one and settles herself down, the collection of bangles around her wrist jingling as she pours sweet tea into faded china cups for you all.

Bea picks up the cookie with trembling hands and breaks it apart before popping them between her lips, still staring.

The more you look around trying to avoid eye contact the more you find other pairs watching you, paintings, preserved animals. Jars.

Nells chatting absentmindedly and you make sounds of agreement while you pretend to listen and try to swallow the dry treat down as quickly as possible.

At the far end of the room, the floors raised a little, a double bed flush against the wall with yellow heavy curtains draped over the posts.

Shelving units surround it, built into the wall and filled with multitudes of more off putting belongings.

It's your wall.

Your eyes track back to Bea and she's grinning now so wide it looks like it should hurt, teeth on show.

You have the sudden feeling that you need to leave and it makes your heart flutter.

“She likes you,” Nell says with a chuckle and Bea still stares.

“Marco.” Eddie's voice reverberates down towards you as you slowly walk the line of the scar. Bare feet toe to toe eyes trained up.

In soft clothes and bare faced you'd had two showers since going next door and you still feel like you can smell it on you.

“Polo.”

You listen carefully for where his voice is the loudest.

Walking the same path as you, he does the same so you don't have to yell while you watch Donny Darco.

“It made my skin crawl, they were everywhere and she just sat and stared at me. I don't think I saw her blink.”

“Maybe she's a Skinwalker or, oh maybe-”

“You're far too excited about this.”

“Come on, she's an old lady.”

“You didn't see her Eddie, something was off.”

“Here?” He says voice ringing out clear.

“Sounds good.”

You drop a pile of blankets and pillows against the kitchen counter, thankful for the barrier between you and the back wall.

You get comfortable opening your laptop when you hear the distinct sound of something heavy being dragged.

“What are you doing?”

“Moving the couch and stuff,” he says voice strained and you can't help the smile that slips out at the sound of it.

“Just sit on the floor.”

“I'm not an animal.”

“I'm sitting on the floor.”

“Exactly.”

“Hey.”

His cackle rings out above you.

“You done?”

“Yeah, think so.”

You hear him groan as he settles in and you set up the movie ready.

It takes a few times to get the start right. Both having to forward it to the same point, you wonder if the movie will have changed over time or whatever this was.

You stretch out and lean back as you hear the echoing sound of the opening scene and for a minute you can pretend that it's not weird or supernatural and you just have a friend.

For all the effort it takes to get them lined up it turns to chaos, fairly quickly as lines change or are delivered wrong by surprisingly, still Jake Gyllenhaal which turns into another whole thing.

Cackling so hard at the contrasting lines at one point you have to leave to use the toilet, with your grin still making your jaw ache, it passes you by that the oppressive walls of the bathroom aren't making your skin crawl like usual, as you listen to him ranting to himself in the other room.

The movie ends but you both carry on speaking until your back starts to ache from the odd angle you've fallen into.

“Shit it's late”, you groan as you sit up. “This was fun.”

“It was,” he says his own yawn audible in his voice and you look over the barely lit room wondering where he would be if he was arranged in the space around you.

You get up, abandoning your empty snack bowls and laptop and dragging your makeshift nest to your room, the light from the lamp in your bedroom quickly submerging the shadows.

“Oh shit.” Eddie's voice comes from the darkness of the other room and you turn to stare into it.

“What happened?”

He groans loudly, “Nothing, I'll clean it in the morning.”

You grimace to yourself wondering what terrible choice of snack he'd knocked over.

“Night Eddie.” You say pulling the door closed.

“Night sweetheart.”

The nickname makes you pause just short of closing the door, all movement stops from behind it and you wonder for a moment if he's left before pulling it closed.

The sheets are still warm from where your giggling body had been nestled into them and with the dopamine still lingering, you climb in and drift easily.

“Marco?” The voice is muffled and you groan as you shift.

“Polo?” You groggily say eyes still heavy.

Drip

The sound finds you with its usual bolt of adrenaline and your eyes snap open.

At least there's nothing on the ceiling.

You pad slowly over to the door and lean against it ready to squeeze through, when it opens easily and you stumble forward.

You walk out turning to see the bookshelves moved over to the side no longer blocking the door.

Evidence of your night is floating in the puddle, his tv now fused with the counter and his couch slowly soaking in the black around the bottom. Nuts and popcorn are scattered over the floor by an upturned bowl and are slowly being swallowed.

You lean down watching how the pieces stick out, your laptop being consumed slowly, fading with every drop.

“I wouldn't touch that.”

You almost slip into it, quickly steadying yourself and glowering back at him.

He's got a shit eating grin on his face despite the way he's rubbing his tired eyes.

“I see you dressed for the occasion this time.” you say still a little breathless.

He looks down at himself to the grey sweatpants and an old band shirt where the motifs peeling away so you can't make it out anymore.

“Well I didn't pass out on the couch like last time, so.”

He's more disarming like this with hair sticking out, face a little tired, tattoos sprawling up under his sleeves. He's less stiff, the almost permanent scowl he wore last time gone.

He runs his hands through his hair and looks around eyeing the slowly sinking snacks in the black puddle.

“It's changing, like with what we do in the day. ”

You walk over to behind the counter, swallowing at the sight of the floor, only a few inches visible between it and the darkness of the back wall.

“Come on.”

You walk through the wall of light to his side and check for any changes.

But everything's the same, the only changes are the evidence of his life within the space.

You come full circle both coming out the other side to face the abyss again.

“Why is it only my side?” you whine looking at the nightmare factory before you.

“You dont think she's making it, do you?”

“Who?”

“Grandma death.” He says a little chuckle in his voice.

When you don't respond he turns to you, calling your name softly as you recall the shadows slithering on the ceiling in your dreams.

How did you know they were smiling? Her face flashes in your mind's eye.

“Have you had any other weird dreams while you've lived here?”

“Other than this” he laughs but his face falls a little as you look up at him.

“Uh, no, well I mean, nothing like this.”

Nodding, head swimming, you walk over to your couch curling into yourself and peering at the darkness of the wall behind it.

“So what do we do now?”

“I don't know. Wait, I guess.”

The couch bounces as he sits down heavily on the other end. The silence grows between the pair of you and you can see him fidgeting in your peripheral.

“So. How's the world?”

“How's the world?” you say turning to him

He shrugs and you exhale sharply out your nose.

“Kind of a loaded question, guess it depends who you ask. How's the 90s?”

“Ohhh you know, shit.”

Drip

The laugh you let out is hollow as you turn back tonstare into the blackness and you can't pinpoint why but your vision mists, tears threatening to spill over.

“Tell me something fun.” Your voice is thick around the lump in your throat, if he notices he graciously ignores it.

“About myself?”

“Anything.”

“Okay uh, I'm in a band”

You look back at him a smile tugging at you lips despite your glossy eyes remaining.

“That's the least surprising thing you could have told me. ”

He makes a face.

Drip

“Not in a bad way. Okay let me guess.” you squint, assessing him and he sits up a little taller under your gaze.

“Grunge.”

“Metal.”

“Ah, potayto, potahto”

He’s about to rant, you can tell by the flare of his nostrils and your smile turns to a full grin as you lay the side of his face against the back of the couch.

He deflates, squinting back at you .

“Your fucking with me.”

“What are you called? I'll have to look you up”

He preens at that “Corroded Coffin.”

“Nice.”

“Thank you. We're actually on hiatus, our bassist knocked his girl up. Band practice doesn't fit with the kids schedule.” he says, tipping his head towards you.

Drip

“How unreasonable.”

“Right.”

"Moved here thinking it would be better for the band.”

“To the place you can't afford.” The words come out quicker than you can think but thankfully he chuckles.

“Uh yeah, it wasn't just me to start, had a housemate. Girlfriend.” He looks away scratching his jaw. “They sort of, left together.”

“Shit, sorry Eddie, I didn't mean to-” he waves you off.

“What about you?”

Drip

Your stomach curdles.

“No other people.”

“What about me?”

It's your turn to avoid his gaze and you gesture around you.

Drip.

A sound from the abyss cuts him off, the sheer volume so loud you can feel it in the empty spaces in your chest, it sends you both off the couch and scrambling away.

“No, I mean-”

Drip.

Nothing changed, as your eyes frantically look for the source of the noise, wincing you cover your ears and slowly move towards it.

“What are you doing?”

You faintly make out Eddie’s yelling but you keep moving, your heart pounds as the liquid on your kitchen floor comes into view, vibrating where it's met the abyss.

The sound stops as quickly as it came, the absence leaving your ears ringing and you jump as Eddie arrives next to you.

He follows your gaze to where the darkness has met.

“That's not good.”

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel @kellsck let me know if you would like to be added <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #knock knock #my writing #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #afab reader

[mikelogan]

ttpd thoughts

for the record, i'm not trying to be like. purposely hateful or anything, i'm just so deeply disappointed with her. this last year has been a mess and she's repeatedly acted in ways that, at the very least, rub me in the wrong way and at their worst have disgusted me and made me lose so much respect for/faith in her. miss americana has become a piece of performance art rather than any sort of meaningful activism.

she made a very public display of dating/hooking up with a bigot and basically said "fuck you, i do what i want" in response to valid criticism and then tried to smooth it over by working with one of the women he'd called slurs. almost every time she spoke this year, whether in an interview or through tree, she reinforced my worry that she views herself as untouchable and that any sort of negativity or criticism directed toward her should be discounted because she's an "underdog" and a woman, despite the fact that there are very real issues with her words and actions. and don't get me started on everything with football guy and his trump-loving ass.

she is absolutely allowed to do, say, date, fuck, etc. anyone and anything she wants. she can write songs about all of it. she can do damage control and pr and control the narrative however she chooses. she can run smear campaigns and drag names through the mud while maintaining she's the perpetual victim when she's arguably the one with the most power in any given situation. i can appreciate that fame presents a set of challenges that i will never experience or fully comprehend.

but i'm also allowed to have my opinions on it, especially when so much of it is so heavily publicized. there is so much we will never know and there is also so much we do know that we never should have. pretty much since eras was announced, she's become so deeply oversaturated and it went from being cool to see so much hype and getting a new album and new re-recordings to feeling like everything is about money and breaking records. it's become a machine, a content factory, and so many decisions feel rushed, incomplete, and incongruent. it doesn't feel like there's been real thought about the material itself and instead it's become about aesthetics and sensationalism.

i think that's why i'm so frustrated right now and it's highly likely that these albums will grow on me or at least some of the songs. i've been listening to the 12 songs i liked on repeat since i finished my initial run through each album and i already like them even more. but i wish that it could truly just be about the music for me. that's what's always been most meaningful to me about taylor is her lyricism and the stories she tells through her songs. but knowing everything i know and having seen everything i've seen over the past year, it's tainted my perception of the albums and the songs on them.

i think that taylor has a lot of growing to do as a person. i've heard people say that sometimes celebrities are frozen at the age they became famous and i think that really shows in taylor's case. the irony of a song being titled "so high school" was certainly not lost on me. a lot of her phrasing feels very juvenile, just as her treatment of joe and everything surrounding the end of their relationship has been. i never really had feelings about him one way or another, and as i mentioned above, there's a lot we'll never know about what happened between them. but she's been pushing her victim narrative so hard and the only thing i've seen from joe is his support of palestine. actions speak a lot louder than words. it changed so drastically from the initial news of their breakup being amicable to turning him into yet another villain. i have no doubt in my mind that taylor has been treated very poorly by a lot of the men in her life, and joe is likely not an exception. but i'm to the point where i have to take everything she says with a heaping tablespoon of salt.

at the end of the day, taylor's music is her own and i understand why she's said that she wants her work to be about the music and not about the men. i can see how it would feel invalidating to have her songs picked apart and attributed to the men they're written about. and i'm not even trying to do that here. but i can't recall a time when she's been so public about her relationships? in the past, it's felt a lot more like speculation, but jesus, between ratty and tk this past year, we've just been inundated with so much that unless i was an extremely casual fan that managed to escape her face on every news show, billboard, and social media website, i can't fathom not knowing what she's singing about on these albums. she can't have it both ways.

i still have all the music that came before ttpd, and like i said, with subsequent listens, ttpd will probably grow on me a bit, but idk man, i'm over it. and i think it's important to be willing and able to criticize or at the very least analyze your favorite media, whether it's music or tv or film or literature or whatever else. your favorite thing probably sucks in one way or another and pretending it doesn't doesn't make you a better person than someone who acknowledges it. these are complex, extremely nuanced things i take issue with and when it comes down to it, i will never know taylor personally and be able to talk to her about these things and get her point of view and her thoughts. that leaves me to say my piece, which is what this post is.

as a recovering swiftie, i'm just so very tired.

#ramblings #ttpd lb #ttpd2 lb #i have a blood draw in a few hours im gonna go lay down #im more than willing to discuss any of this btw #but im not going to argue or respond to hate if i receive any #also from a purely sonic perspective? #there is nothing special vocally apart from waolom #and the music sounds so similar in almost every song #okay to rb if anyone is so inclined

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Wibta for writing my friend a letter rather than talking to her in person?

Tw, self harm.

So I (21f) have a friend who we'll call Button (20f) who I have been good friends with since we were 7. Button is a lovely person but unfortunately she suffers with a lot of mental and physical health issues. Due to some issues that happened when we were teenagers, which I won't get into, Button ended up cutting off all of her friends besides me and our other friend Sock (21f). Because of said mental health issues, Button has become extremely clingy and controlling over me and Sock as her friends. She's had break downs over us doing perfectly innocuous things (e.g., unexpectedly running into each other and deciding to get coffee together without her) and these breakdowns have involved self harm.

Button has recently been trying to make some new friends and has not been successful. The problem is that because she has been really isolated for a long time she doesn't know how to talk to people, and she's autistic which adds to her problems connecting with people. The ways that she has been going about trying to get close to people have been really counterproductive and have ended up pushing people away from her, e.g., starting conversations with people shes never met before with extremely traumatic stories and not recognising that people are uncomfortable so she just keeps going and going, and social media stalking. She would be a lot more successful making friends if she didn't do those things, she is a genuine, funny, brilliant person when you get to know her, but she's inadvertently scaring people off from ever getting close enough to her to know that.

The problem is that she takes even the most gentle criticism extremely poorly. I want her to be happy, and I know what some of the problems are and we can work to resolve them together, but we can't do that if she doesn't know what they are. I've tried to talk to her in person about stuff before and she just started hysterically scream-crying and I never actually got to the core issue I wanted to discuss to begin with. I know if we have this discussion in person I will not get to say everything that needs to be said. Hence the idea for a letter. However, I'm worried this will set off another self harm episode if she thinks I'm writing her a letter because I hate her or something (which I truly do not, I'm really scared for her). If I talk to her in person then at least I will be there to deal with the fallout rather than have her be alone for it. If I leave it and don't talk to her she's going to continue to make the same mistakes with people and continue not to make friends and spiral further into self loathing over it, but I don't know if me considering writing a letter about it is a cowardly way of dealing with this situation on my end?

Wibta?

#aita #am i the asshole #self harm cw

[alildritten]

Ah yes, the scariest story of all:

G A Y

(/j)

#alright time for context in the tags!! your favorite show!!! yippee! #yeah so anyway basically i was thinking up fictional scenarios with my ocs (of course as always) #and i was thinking about hey! so what about this werewolf character. yknow? silver? what if we thought about when they were a little kid #and stuff. you know? why not and all and so i was having fun with that thinking about how theyd have had to keep their werewolf-ness #a secret. but their parents know and are trying to keep it a secret as well and what-not #and one day silver gets invited to a sleepover. yknow. at night. theyre a werewolf??? that wouldnt go well #other than the fact that they can control that wolf form?? (i need to figure out what to call it) #so itd be fine but its supposed to be a secret because if people knew silver would be reported to the authorites because in that universe #humans do exist they just kicked any weird hybrid or beast or whatever off onto another planet #jokes on them the little beasties are doing fine and after a bit of adjusting and working on fitting into the new world #that theywere forced onto with no way back #they have a whole civilization and are doing great!!! but everytime that the humans on their world realize someones like. a werewolf or #a vampire or anything. WELP BYE-BYE HAVE A NICE TRIP #and well theres a new orphan in town on the other world! well heck hopefully they live alright and maybe get adopted? #BUT ANYWAY OFF TRACK WHOOPS so basically silvers parents are like ‘no. you cant’ but silver’s friends had asked several times in the past #and really wanted to have a sleepover with silver. idk and so basically silver writes a note saying ‘hey i did go sorry bout that- #dont worry i got it covered i can keep my wolf formt hing hidden no worries’ or something basically says that and goes to the sleepover #(friends think silver finally got permission) and wow i just realized this is a long story heck lemme try and shorten a little #and eventually at one point they all wanna tell scary stories cause why not #and once i got there my brain kinda kept pausing and then swoosh new train thought woahh!! #and started thinking about a cute scenario about two ocs of mine who are VERY GAY hehe <3 #but i thought it was a bit funny because i realized that i was about to have some lil kids tell each other scary stories and then woop brain #go hey think about this cute gay scenario!! so ah yes. cute gay scenario=SCARY (/j) #does this even make any sense at all i genuinely dont know but i had fun talking about ocs so yea ima sleep now #have a good day/night to you!!! <333 YIPPEE anyway bye bye goodnight bla bla bla woohoo

[perenlop]

another wc take is that the girlbossification of mapleshade is boring as hell

#why was she suddenly involved in like. everything. #as a crookedstar's promise truther she was honestly at her best in that book imo bc she was one fucked up woman #who took it upon herself to torture the bloodline of a man who hurt her even years after hes gone and no one knows his name #and the descendants have done absolutely nothing to deserve her vitriol. like she was hurting but what made her a villain #was how she took it out on a literal child who was already being treated like shit by his mom #this is also why i dont like takes that are like ''oh shes a good person actually she was just angry and mad and everyone wronged her #and shes actually a nice ghost that helps people'' bc that was never who she was and she was still fucked up for the murder #im not saying shes a bad character for doing that like shes an antagonist and i appreciate her #but i feel like ppl latched onto her being the one female villain and went ''oh my god shes a girlboss shes so awesome and not bad actually' #do u think mapleshade had girlpower when she made a disabled child watch his family die bc of a bloodline he cant control #to an extent its kinda like how ppl treat thistle? who's obviously much much worse than her but like its the same #''oh its bad writing for them to be punished and treated as antagonists bc they had like one nice thing at one point- #and that one nice moment outweighs every single evil thing they did even if it was literal child murder. its ok if ur sad #'' #idk i think its obnoxious like its in the books and the fanon at this point and its just made me bored of her character #sometimes less is more and when u start trying to excuse her actions or forcing her into everyone else's story #the character has a lot less impact #like i still remember her ranting at the end of crookedstars promise when she was raging at crookedstar that he shouldnt have been born #i dont think i remember anything from like. tigerclaws fury or whatever. #echoed voice

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale #gale of waterdeep #astarion #gale dekarios #laq talks #I talk #she stares at me real hard after she makes a choice too #like squinting to see if my expression gives anything away #if it was a good or bad call #I keep my face blank as shit it’s hilarious #I have not told her I’m writing fanfic for this game #nor will I ever #jesus christ

[boxingcleverrr]

Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.

Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.

But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.

The Abduction is The Thing.

Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.

Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.

It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.

I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!

It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.

"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.

And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.

They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.

Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.

That's how it went.

I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:

This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!

Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.

#blathering #truly had a ramble bubbling for weeks #just pagan things

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Gaiman. I am in year 11, so I've got my English GCSEs coming up, and my only issue is that I have no idea how to start a story. I can write the rest of the story perfectly fine, but I can never figure out how to start it off well. Do you have any advice?

It's ok if you don't respond, but if you do, thank you.

Try to start it in an interesting way that makes people want to go on. A way that, perhaps, asks a question that you need to keep reading to answer, or that will mean something else if you come to it after finishing the story.

Sometimes I write the beginning of the story, the opening lines, last of all.

It can be a fun exercise to just sit and write for yourself first lines of stories that are interesting and make people want to keep reading. They don't have to be any good, and you definitely don't need to know what happens next.

'Everything would have been fine if the Pope had not misplaced the antique silk alms bag containing her birth control pills.'

'The day Julius's mother died was, by no coincidence, the same day that Julius discovered his Jack Russell terrier secretly spoke Italian.'

'The old house squatted on the hill like a toad on the edge of a well, and, like a toad, would occasionally, when unobserved, lumber down from the hill in search of food. It was not choosy. It would eat anything."

Try it. It's fun.

#first lines #advice to writers

[kasagia]

A powerful man

Pairing: dark!young Gamemaker!candidate for president! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You thought he was different. That he would never cheat on you. But apparently Coriolanus who came back from District 12, became Gamemaker, and ran for president was not the same man you knew. And you'll soon find out how wrong you were about him. Requested by: @tastycakee Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Warning: 18+; My first time writing a smut scene, so please be gentle. I hope you will like it...🙈🙈; Coriolanus Snow, toxic behaviour; smut; Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

"Mr. Snow is busy…" you slam the door to Coriolanus' office behind you, closing it in the face of his secretary, who wouldn't let you in.

You cross your arms, glaring at your boyfriend in pure fury. Coriolanus stops writing something and looks up to enter just as you loudly shut the door behind you.

He raises his eyebrows slightly in surprise at the sight of you, then frowns at the pure anger in your eyes and clenched fists. He hopes your anger isn't caused by what he was trying to hide for you... otherwise, he will have some heads cut off.

"Y/N, darling, what are you doing here?" He asks with a charming smile as he gets up from his chair and walks over to you.

"Livia Cardew?" He stops at the mention of her name. He plays confused, frowning as he slowly responds to you, pretending to try to understand what you mean.

"I have no idea..."

"You could at least have some decency and admit that you slept with that whore!" His secretary must have heard your scream. He makes a mental note to talk to her when he's alone and to make sure he sends to the district and hangs any maid from the Cardew's house who spilled his secret.

"Look... it's not that I wanted it." He starts out gently; he tries to calm you down and explain his actions, but as soon as he takes a step towards you, you move away from him and growl like a rabid animal.

"Oh, of course not! After all, it's your dick that makes decisions for you, not your brain!" You shout at him angrily, pressing an accusatory finger into his chest.

He can no longer control himself after you cross the line. His calm, collected mask falls away to reveal his own rage and iritation. He grabs your arms tightly, making you gasp softly in pain as he shakes you lightly and pins you against the wall.

But he controls himself enough to not physically hurt you… at least not more. He just holds you there tightly, taking advantage of your moment of shock to explain his motives to you.

"Listen to me. She was a means to an end. I needed some information from her. I had to get closer, sleep with her, and sneak around her house, especially her father's office. End of the story. Considering it, it wasn't cheating. It was more like business than anything else. Besides, you're way better than her, petal. And I kept thinking about you all the time and how I'd rather have you wrapped around me than that thoughtless, naive bitch."

You feel sick when you hear it, when you imagine him in bed with her, and even more sick when you hear that he doesn't think that he did a bad thing at all. You feel like throwing up, just remembering how you let him touch you and how you treated him, worshipping him as if he were your whole world. You were so stupid and naive.

"You only prove that you are as disgusting, cruel, and manipulative as I thought. You can play with other people and their feelings, but not with mine. Not anymore. It's over. I've already moved out of your apartment, so you can continue running your campaign and exploiting other people all you want. I just fucking hope you won't win." You say it angrily, pushing him away from you.

You take advantage of the state of shock he is in, and you get out of there as fast as you can. The scent of Coriolanus' perfume clings to you, and you already know you need to take a very long bath when you get home to brush it away. As well as the felling of his hands on you. You only hope you won't have any bruises after his very tight and painful grip.

You practically run all the way to your car. You get in, not noticing that your ex-boyfriend is watching you carefully from his office window.

Coriolanus' eyes don't leave you. He watches carefully as you get into the car with his hands in his pockets.

He chastises himself for being so gentle with you. He promised himself after Lucy Gray that he would never fall in love again. And you appeared, breaking his iron resolve with one smile and a kiss. He should have made sure that he had enough control over you so that you would never think of leaving him before he started spoiling you.

All the dinners, sweet words and compliments, and thoughtful dates... he had rewarded you for nothing, and now his disobedient brat thought she could just walk away from him. Yes. He had given you too much freedom.

He should immediately clearly define the dynamics of your relationship, instead of leaving you under the illusion that you have something to say in any matter.

He remembered you from the Academy, even though you were a year younger than him. You were ambitious, like him. You always followed your own plan and ideas. Little rebel. It was cute then, but now he realises he needs to temper your personality. After all, his First Lady had to obey him at all times. You might have had a strong character and fought like a lioness, but absolutely not against him. He will destroy you or teach you obedience. You could be his wolf on a leash or his faithful dog. He didn't see it any other way. And he definitely won't let you go.

Coriolanus has already lost his one bird. He won't let another one do the same and escape from him.

And he even knew who would help him with it.

"I don't understand why they're starting a campaign when there's still a good half a year left until the elections." You grumble to your labmate as you two work on a new tranquillizer for peacekeepers to use on rebels.

"They have to check the identity and background of the candidates, and so on. My father said that the process itself was a good three months of work. Besides, considering that a president usually stays in his seat until he dies of old age, it's better that it lasts longer. Let them at least work hard to earn our votes if they are about to rule over Panem all their lives."

"That's six months of seeing that son of a bitch's face on TV, on posters around town, and on practically every fucking corner. Don't be surprised that I would prefer it to be shorter."

"I don't want to be on his side, but I think he can win. You know very well that he has charisma, money, and... well." She interrupts, blushing a little. You roll your eyes at her. You know that Coriolanus is... breathtakingly handsome. His cold beauty will steal the hearts of many. It will be useful for his media image to hide what a boor he was.

"Big cock?" You joke, no longer vulnerable to the charming side he has been showing the public.

"Y/N!" She hisses at you, laughing softly and looking around the lab. Meanwhile, the rats you were testing on became... too calm. At least Dr. Gaul's snakes will have something to eat.

"What? I'm stating facts. I wouldn't be surprised if he slept his way to the top." You say, as you are preparing new test subjects and reducing the dose of preparation a little.

"Shh! The viper is coming here." She whispers and goes back to work.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that, in fact, Dr. Gaul enters the laboratory. She might be getting older, but she still held up well. The only thing that changed was that she walked with the aid of a cane, which only added to her intimidating appearance. And the fact that she was no longer the main organiser of the Hunger Games. Coriolanus performed this role for her. Although the title was still hers.

"Dr. Gaul." You both greet her and step away from the examination table. She watches you and your work closely, mumbling something under her breath, and raises her cane, pointing at you.

"Y/L/N. My office."

"Yes, ma'am." You say and follow her. You feel your friend's eyes on your back as you follow the woman to her office.

You close the door behind you and take a seat in front of her desk as she nods towards you. Dr. Gaul takes some pills from his desk and swallows them. One of her snakes slithers between your legs and climbs up the desk to wrap around her owner's hand and then her cane. You have not only the piercing eyes of a woman but also the eyes of a snake.

She smiles, seeing that you didn't even flinch, still maintaining your calm demeanour.

"You're not a stupid girl." She says this while examining her pet. "And yet you find yourself in situations that only cast you in this light."

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, not expecting your conversation to become so... personal.

"I always said Mr. Snow would achieve something great. At the beginning, I thought he would be a Gamemaker like me. After all, he is not suitable for being a scientist like us. He has no patience; he needs new challenges, experiences, and adrenaline. But now... you know that you can have the president as... a person who is not entirely favourable to you, right?"

"I understand that there may be some difficulties…"

"Difficulties? Child, do you know him? You must be aware of what he is capable of. Or at least have some suspicions." She interrupts you, looking at you pointedly.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to calm down. You were fed up with the topic of your ex. Apparently, you couldn't just break up with him without making a fuss.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Dr. Gaul? What is it all for?" You ask, slightly annoyed, and she just laughs mockingly, shaking her head in amusement.

"I like you, child. I hope you won't disappoint me. Therefore, think about what is good for your future. Pride is fatal. Money and influence bring opportunities. But you probably already know that. After all, no one who gets into my lab is a saint. Especially not you and Mr. Snow."

"I'm not a whore like him." You defend yourself, crossing your arms, making Dr. Gaul laugh again.

The snake moves from her cane to the desk and nests in your lap. Out of habit, you stroke his head, gaining interest again and a gleam of approval in Dr. Gaul's eyes. After all, this one was a particularly venomous specimen.

"Each of us is. We may not do what they do, but for money... people can do everything. Don't you remember how you sold your dear friend? How did you knock her out of the competition for a spot in my lab? How have you done everything—play every dirty card to make sure that you will become a victor? Just like Mr. Snow. I heard there was a... misunderstanding between you two, but life isn't a fairy tale, Miss Y/L/N. You can go bankrupt and ruin your reputation while waiting for your prince. If you want to achieve something, be known as a great mind like me, and be relevant in this city full of rats and snakes, then you will do the right thing for your future."

"Dr. Gaul, with all due respect, I am acutely aware of what is good for me. And it's definitely not Coriolanus Snow." You say, standing up and letting the snake slither onto her desk again.

"Pity. So prepare a contingency plan. After all, I won't live forever. It is not known who will take my place or whose name will hang above the entrance to this laboratory. It's not my choice. But if it was, I would choose you as my successor. Unfortunately, the future president will have the most impact on that. And then... it may turn out that there will be no place for you here."

"It's not certain who will win."

"Are you sure, child?" Her question can't help but make you doubt. Coriolanus wouldn't give up so easily. You know it. Just like if Coriolanus wins, you're finished. Your entire career… "Go. Think about it. I hope you will prove that you have some mind. It would be such a pity to lose such a talented scientist as you. Especially because of stupid love affairs."

You mutter goodbye to her and leave the office. You're long back at your table in the lab when the secret door opens and Coriolanus steps out.

"Is that what you wanted, Mr. Snow?" The woman asks, turning to face him. Coriolanus moves closer to the desk, but enough to be out of her snake's reach.

"You could have been more intimidating. After all, her entire career depends on her submission."

"If you want her to truly obey you, she must come to you herself. Like a pet. Like a snake. If she sees that your relationship will bring her further benefits, she will come back to you. She's not stupid enough to waste such an opportunity. At least I hope so. You should focus on your campaign."

"I'd like that too. But currently… something else is on my mind." He says, walking over to the tinted window that overlooks the lab. He puts his hands in his pockets and watches you carefully as you work.

"You're wasting your potential. Maybe your children will be wise enough to follow in my footsteps more. One is running for president, and the other is a military chemist. Such a waste."

"Don't worry. One of our children will definitely continue your legacy, you have my word." He assures her while observing you.

You lean over the table, strands of your hair falling into your eyes behind your safety glasses, as you test another biological weapon on rats. You look hot in that scientist outfit. He grunts, feeling his pants getting a little too tight. He regrets that he never took the opportunity to visit you here...

"It better be that way. And for God's sake, don't stare at her like a love-struck puppy like you did with your tribute from 12. Patience. Or you will have to train her to make her obedient."

"You know I like a challenge, Dr. Gaul." He replies with a sly, cocky smirk and turns his head towards Doctor Gaul once he has calmed down a bit and composed himself.

"Go away now. Your last Hunger Games must be amazing and unforgettable, or I'll tell her what you have planned for her." He laughs at this, shaking his head.

"I appreciate your attempts to intimidate me, but you know I'll be happy with any outcome. Whether it's keeping her on a leash or reshaping her to meet my needs as my First Lady."

"But we both know which one you would prefer more." They share a sinister smirk. Coriolanus owed her a lot. He's learned many things under her tutelage... things that he uses to make sure you know that your place is always with him.

"As I said, I love a challenge. I will be expecting you as an honoured guest at this year's Hunger Games and my wedding. Of course, right next to my fiancée."

"Don't scare her away, Mr. Snow." She reminds him when he receives a package from her with the latest biological weapon. He will test it at this year's tributes. He smiles, thinking that it must have come from your talented fingers.

"Snow lands on top, Dr. Gaul." He assures her and says goodbye, leaving through a secret passage.

He still had a lot of things to do.

It started innocently… if that's a word you could use to describe Coriolanus Snow.

You knew he wouldn't give up so easily after your breakup and that he would want to come back to you. And that he will use every means to make sure this happens. After all, he was an ambitious bastard who thought he could do anything if he tried hard enough. And Coriolanus had big plans. Plans that you only became aware of when it was too late for you to try and rescue yourself from him.

It started with roses.

Not just any roses. The most beautiful ones Coriolanus could find in his grandmother's garden. Beautiful white roses. A symbol of love, affection, innocence, and loyalty. Everything that Coriolanus lacks.

They were delivered together with a letter in which he deeply assured you of his feelings and asked for a meeting.

You happily threw them into the fireplace.

Then he started sending you roses to the lab. And from the smiles Dr. Gaul was giving you, you knew the bastard had won her over to his side. At least you and your co-worker had some fun destroying them in all sorts of strange ways, starting with burning them with a laser, throwing them into toxic waste, or even breaking them down into the substance you needed for your experiments.

One day, gifts came along with roses. Jewellery, books, clothes (even underwear, if you could call a thin set of strings that), concert tickets with invitations from him (you'd rather cut off your ears than sit next to him in the concert hall or stand by the stage), he did everything to get your attention. Which you happily denied him.

You avoided him like the plague, missing every event he was supposed to be at (even your little sister's graduation from the Academy). But there was one event your family wouldn't let you miss.

"Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. Miss Y/L/N and Miss Y/S/N. How nice to see you all together. May the odds be ever in your favour." Dr. Gaul greets you as you arrive at the official opening gala of the Hunger Games.

"Dr. Gaul. Happy Hunger Games." You say back.

"You too, dear child. I can steal you from your parents and sister, can't I?" Your parents nod quickly before you can speak. Dr. Gaul takes you by the arm and leads you to the upper lodge.

"I believe I should sit somewhere else…"

"Nonsense. Mr. Snow made sure your family sat near Mr. and Mrs. Plinth. They have good company, so you can make us that pleasure and sit with us." he says, taking her seat. You see that on your seat is a small piece of paper with your name on it.

"Us?" You question the woman suspiciously.

"Hello, petal." Coriolanus' voice behind you confirms your suspicions. Before he sits down next to you, he leans down and places a long, wet kiss on your cheek, while he tucks the rose behind your ear. One that matches your dress perfectly. You have no idea how the bastard did it. "You look stunning, as always. I was worried you weren't feeling well when I couldn't find you at your sister's graduation."

"I've actually been feeling bad for a few days now. The smell of roses makes me sick." You tell him, not hiding the hostility and coldness in your tone. He frowns at this, obviously not happy with your allusion.

"Maybe you are pregnant?" He replies mockingly, and you glare at him. He smiles at this, placing his hand on your bare knee. You regret not wearing a longer dress. At least you wouldn't have to endure the feel of his skin against yours. Reluctantly, you remember the time when you dreamed of his touch.

"You wish." You say, shaking his hand away as you place your leg over your knee. He doesn't care and instead places his hand on your other knee, making sure the railings of the lodge cover his hand as he gently slides it under your dress. You shiver as his cold hand presses against your warm thigh.

"Oh, you have no idea." He leans gently towards you to whisper in your ear.

Before you have a chance to push him away (or slap him), Coriolanus stands up and gives the opening speech of this year's Hunger Games. You glare at Dr. Gaul, and she just shrugs and turns her attention to the tributes. Only now do you notice that the cameras are focused on your row... and especially on you and Coriolanus.

"Aside from our little jokes… it hurts me that you didn't show up to any of the events I invited you to." He says, sitting down again as the reaping of the tributes begins.

He rests his elbow on your armrest and leans in to whisper in your ear. You know that, from a distance, it looks like he's flirting with you. And you don't like it one bit. Especially since the lives of 24 young teenagers are crashing down at the same time.

"Are you talking about your political events?" You ask, trying to shrug him off and move away from him. He doesn't let you, though, taking your hand in his and placing his hand on your knee, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm talking about our dates, darling."

"We are not together anymore. And we are not going on any dates." You remind him dryly, with great hostility in your voice. The bastrad doesn't even tremble.

"I dare to disagree with you. I never said I was done with you." He says dismissively as his hand roams freely under your dress, tracing patterns on your thigh. You shiver, despising him and yourself for the way your body responds to his touch.

"Well, I am done with you." You say it firmly, with all the confidence in your voice.

"Are you sure? Your sister is a hell of a smart beast. What a pity if the university did not accept her due to... the increased number of applicants."

"Are you trying to bully me? Threaten?" You ask incredulously, finding the strength to push his hands away from you. He gives you a slightly offended look, but instead of taking your hint and moving away, he tucks your hair behind your ear.

"I'm asking for a little cooperation. The Capitol would see me better if I was... in a committed relationship. And now all eyes are on the two of us and the tributes. They'll disappear as soon as they stop transmitting, and then the eyes of the Capitol will be only on me and you. And because you're sitting very close to me, people will think you didn't come here alone... even if that's what you originally wanted."

"You bastard..." You hiss at him angrily, and he just smiles, half amused, half cocky.

He raises his hand and caresses your cheek tenderly. You want to move away from him, but he holds your jaw tightly with his fingers. He tilts your head up slightly, forcing you to look into his icy blue eyes. He smells of roses and cigars... you wonder if he started smoking after your breakup or for business, to increase the number of contacts during these smoking encounters on the balcony.

"Just one kiss and a smile, sweetheart. Is that so much to give to ensure your younger sister a secure place at university?"

"And what later? Will you force me to get engaged to you? Get married? Create a fictional family?" You ask him furiously, knowing full well that if you give this devil a finger, he will soon demand your entire arm.

"I'm not asking you to marry me. Just about pretending to be my date... for now. You don't want your sister to suffer just because you didn't want to place a kiss on my cheek, do you?" You sigh, knowing he doesn't leave you much of a choice.

"She will choose whatever field of study she wants." You make sure by bargaining with him before you agree to anything he wants you to do. He nods, and you can only hope he has the decency to keep the agreement.

You smile sweetly at him and place your hand on his cheek, turning his face towards you. You press a kiss on his other cheek, making sure to leave a trace of your lipstick. You hear people whistling and clapping in applause.

You pull away from him and keep a fake smile on your lips, ignoring his happy, cocky smirk and tone of voice as he stands up and says an ending speech. As did the shocked looks from your family and Dr. Gaul's mischievous smirk.

You have no idea that this is just the beginning. And even if you do, you try to convince yourself otherwise.

You've had enough.

For a month now, Coriolanus has been showering you with various gifts, following you around like a shadow, taking you to the laboratory, and bringing you home. He forced you to get into his limo once. The next day, it took you an hour to cover the hickeys he left on your neck.

You weren't together; you pushed him away as much as you could, and he tried at all costs to get you back into his arms or bed or into your pants. But now he has crossed the line.

That's why you stormed straight to his office again, bypassing all the secretaries and security with your natural grace.

And what unnerved you the most was how the bastard had the nerve to smile in amusement as you barged into his office.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You snap at him angrily, closing the door behind you. You walk over to his desk, the click of your heels echoing around the room as you throw your purse onto the chair and cross your arms, glaring at him.

"I have the impression that your greetings have become more and more dry and aggressive, haven't they, petal?

"My sister failed her first exam, even though I know she wrote it damn well. As it turns out, her professor is a dear friend of yours. Do you have any explanation for this?" You ask him accusingly, and he just smirks and shrugs, not even hiding the fact that he wasn't involved at all.

"Perhaps she didn't study enough?"

"Do you want to take it out on someone? Take it out on me, but leave Y/S/N out of it!" You shout at him madly, pointing a finger at him. He tilts his head at you in curiosity and stands from his chair, walking around the desk and standing in front of you.

You don't feel comfortable about him being so close to you, but there's no way that you'll show him that he's making you feel nervous and anxious.

"Calm down, sweetheart. This is exactly the reaction I needed from you." He says, his icy blue eyes piercing right through you, making you almost shiver under his intensive gaze. Even when you were in heels, he was slightly taller than you.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You growl menacingly, crossing your arms defensively. He just smiles and gently brushes your hair away from your face, smiling softly. He is not gentle. You know about it. He's waiting for your slightest slip or show of weakness.

"I've been trying to contact you for weeks, sending letters, calling, leaving notes, and trying to start a conversation."

"You push me into a limo and molest me." You say, defeating all his attempts to make you feel guilty.

You won't have any Stockholm syndrome. He is the one who pursues you; he is the one who harasses you and won't let you move on after the breakup. He didn't even fucking acknowledge your breakup! The problem was with him, not with you. And you know he saw it fully in your eyes—the certainty that what was between you was far from a healthy relationship. And he doesn't like the direction you're going with your conclusions. That's why he resorts to heavier measures.

You hold back a gasp as he suddenly closes the gap between you with one step and places his hand on your cheek. You let him stroke it tenderly as he leans towards you to whisper seductively in your ear.

"You moaned so beautifully for me that even a deaf person wouldn't think you were forced. Admit that you miss me, just like I miss you. You'll make it easier for all of us."

He pulls away from you just enough to look into your eyes again. You decide to try and play his game and lick your lips, moving your gaze between his eyes and his mouth. You tilt your chin up and lean in, your lips almost brushing against his as you whisper.

"Listen to me carefully, because I'll only say this once. I. Will. Never. Come. Back. To. You. So take a hint and leave me alone." As you finish speaking, you reach for your bag and step away from him. You're walking towards the exit when, halfway there, you hear his quick footsteps behind you.

"Not so fast." He grabbed your wrist and turned you towards him, holding you close to his chest. His eyes turn a raging ocean colour with anger and annoyance at your teasing and mockery. "Do you really want your sister to have to take thousands of exams? Work harder because you couldn't commit one evening to me?"

"Evening?" You ask indignantly and in outrage, at which he laughs.

"Nothing dirty. Although I like your way of thinking..."

"Coriolanus." You interrupt him before he can continue the topic. He rolls his eyes at you, clearly not appreciating you interrupting his fun.

"I need a date for one evening. And after the successful show we put on at the opening of The Hunger Games, people are hungry for... well, more of us. What do you say? Will you find enough courage and willingness to accompany me, my love?"

"And you'll leave Y/S/N alone? No more creating problems for her to get my attention?" You make sure. He smiles... differently. With a strange, dangerous glint in his eye that makes you feel more uneasy than how you were since he pulled you to his chest. And you realise how close he actually is when he leans in, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Have I ever broken my promise to you, Y/N?"

"Surprisingly not." You answer after a long moment, trying to remember any such situation. He always did everything he promised for you. You didn't know if it was his advantage or… a more disquieting trait.

"You see. You have my word. I will fulfil everything I promised you, my little petal. Everything." He whispers softly, making you shiver as he gently takes a rose out of his jacket pocket and places it behind your ear. You knew this supposedly sweet act of his very well. It was the importance of his territory.

After his words, there is a long silence between the two of you. You hold your breath, mesmerised, as you stare into his icy-blue eyes. He was always so… composed around you. It was as if he was always able to do and say exactly what he wanted and planned. It was as if your entire interaction was just a game for him, a game he was convinced he couldn't lose. He lost his temper with you only once—when you surprised him with that break up…. but you aren't sure if he acknowledged it.

You come to your senses and out of his strange charm the moment he leans in so close to you that your noses gently brush against each other.

You pull away from him, much to his displeasure, and clear your throat. You keep your eyes on him, and in a challenge—one of the few acts of rebellion you can commit—you reach for the rose in your hair and take it out.

"When and where is this event?" You growl through clenched teeth.

"Friday evening. I'll pick you up at 8 p.m." He says it nonchalantly, putting his hands in his pocket. He acts as if nothing happened, and he was just inviting you to the party. As if he wasn't threatening your sister's future to force you to hang on his arm as an ornament for one evening... or maybe even longer.

"I'll go there myself."

"Not happening. You're coming there with me. Transportation is on me. After all, you're my date. It would look bad in public opinion if I didn't treat you like... a princess." He says it firmly, with a delicate smile on his lips—not the pleasant, warm one, but the cunning, cold one he showed when he won over his opponent. The one you were starting to get used to.

And you think while looking at him that if you were the princess in this story, then he was the dragon, keeping you in your palace or tower away from other people. To make sure you were completely at his mercy.

"I'm not sitting next to you in the limo or any car. And if you lay your hands on me, I will cut them off with those dull knives they serve to people with the dinner." He's more amused by your threat, but nods obediently. He takes a few steps towards you but stops, leaving a decent distance between you.

"I'd like to see you try. But you have to behave yourself. Or little Y/S/N will repeat her first year at university. Are we clear?"

"Yes. And I already have a dress, so don't you dare send me anything, understood?" He chuckles mockingly at your words, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the sunlight. You know him too well to be enchanted by such a sight of him. After all, the wolf seems beautiful too, until it attacks you.

"Perfectly. I can't wait to see you then." He says it in a sweet tone of voice. You shake your head and walk towards the exit. "And Y/N." Reluctantly, you turn towards him, your hand on the doorknob. "If I were you, I would have stopped ignoring my calls."

"Go to hell." You say it in an equally sweet tone of voice as his.

You smile at him and throw a rose towards him, bowing. Just like Lucy Gray. You smile victoriously and walk out, slamming the door behind you. You're glad you were able to finally throw him out of control and get him angry.

You leave the building with your head proudly held high. But the truth is that even though you try to pretend that you are controlling your situation with Coriolanus, the truth is that you are not. And you are absolutely terrified by it.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." your sister says as you are walking down the stairs of your house. It was Friday evening, and you were waiting for Coriolanus to come pick you up.

"Thank you, Y/S/N. Revise for the exam?" You ask, walking over to the mirror and putting on your earrings. Your long silver dress hugs your curves perfectly, revealing just enough skin that you don't have to worry about feeling Coriolanus' touch on you.

"Yes. I don't have a handsome boyfriend who would take me to the Capitol Gala. I envy you so much."

"You have nothing to envy, honey. Besides, Coriolanus is not my boyfriend. We broke up." You remind her, maybe a little too harshly judging by the way the younger girl flinches. You sigh and walk over to her with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I just... don't like to remind people about it all the time. Coriolanus and I... we are just friends."

"But you were together at the Hungry Games opening ceremony! All my friends say that you two are a sweet couple and are perfect for each other." She says, adjusting the necklace around your neck, at which you smile fondly. You hug her and place a kiss on the top of her head.

"Sometimes people just… aren't meant to be together. Even if they think otherwise, remember how our parents wanted you to start dating John?" You ask, wrapping one arm around her. She winces and flinches at the memory, making you laugh out loud. You haven't laughed honestly in quite a few weeks.

"Is Coriolanus a self-absorbed idiot? That's why you don't want him?" She asks, comparing him to the boy who courted her.

"No. Not at all. He is... extremely attentive." You say it thoughtfully. And maybe other people would take it as a compliment, but to you... it was a dangerous trait. Alarming. Worrisoming.

"Well, anyway, I hope you have a nice evening. Maybe you two can talk, so he'll stop calling and sending you all this stuff. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to get jewellery from you every other day, but it must be... tiring for you if you don't love him anymore."

You smile at that. She was so… innocent; you, too, once were and believed in love. That's why you were with Coryo. He was gallant, elegant, and handsome. A true gentleman. Until he showed his true side—the side you are now afraid of. He was capable of doing many things to make sure he would get what he wanted. And now he wanted you.

"I want you to be careful..." You say, stroking her braids.

"Of what? Overworked because of studying all night?" She asks teasingly, clearly amused by your serious tone and sudden thoughtfulness.

"Of powerful men." The silence in the room after your words clearly makes your sister anxious, as does your depressed mood.

"Y/N... is everything okay?" You put on a fake smile and hug her one last time before putting your shawl around your arms and grabbing your bag.

"Of course. Don't worry about me. I'm going to have a fun night. Study. I promise it will be worth it." You say, placing a kiss on her forehead, and leave the room and house as you hear the car horn.

"Do you enjoy yourself?" Coriolanus asks, leaning in behind you and whispering in your ear as you stand at the table with alcohol and sweets.

"The champagne is delicious." You turn to look at him, to not have him behind your back, and finish the rest of your drink. You lean on the table, setting the glass down as you look at him carefully. "When can I go back home?"

"Just a few more moments, my petal." He places his hands on your shoulders, massaging them gently. You let him, leaning further into his side and closing your eyes tiredly. "Do you like it?"

"You're a poor masseur, but for lack of better hands…"

"I meant tonight. All those people who fawned over you and looked at you with respect and awe. All these women and men who wanted to fulfil your every little wish... don't you like this feeling of power? Superiority? Knowing that they will do anything to gain your favour?"

"You do it every day around me. This is nothing new." You say it dismissively and turn your back to him, taking a piece of cake from the table and eating it.

"I can stop. And I will stop if you keep pushing me away every time I try to get closer to you, every time I put my hand on your waist, every time I lean in to kiss you, and every time you push my hands away from under your dress. If you continue to insist that you are not mine, I will do things you have never imagined... even in your darkest nightmares."

"What do you want so desperately?" You ask him, irritated, putting the empty plate on the table and looking at him with an angry look as you are sick of whatever game he was playing with you.

"You." He says, taking a step towards you and grabbing your chin. He traces his fingers along your jawline, staring at your lips before returning his gaze to your eyes. "We had a good time together. You won't deny it."

"We had. And then you cheated on me." You remind him, feeling furious and hurt.

"It didn't mean anything. I told you. I'm sorry. I could have told you before it happened, let you know what I had to do… or found another way..."

"It does not matter. I don't want you anymore, Coriolanus." You tell him honestly, as you are fed up with everything that has happened between you over the past few months.

"You will change your mind."

"No. I won't." You shake your head, making his confident demeanour fall. He stares at you coldly, processing a plan in his head as he gently tightens his hand on your wrist.

"You'll do it if you still want to matter here. Do you think that if I win, I'll let you work in the lab on secret government projects? After you broke my heart so savagely in front of the entire Capitol? Do you think your family will still be willingly invited to social parties? That your family will have any future?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm warning you. You can either accept me, become my wife and First Lady, or I will make sure you get kicked out of the lab and sabotage all your research for the rest of your life."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Are you sure?" You stared at each other for a moment. You sigh, angry and frustrated, and shake your head, not believing what's happening. "Let's go outside. You could use some fresh air to calm down." Before you can answer him anything, he leads you outside, his hand on your back and suspiciously close to your ass.

You sigh, feeling the cold air of the Capitol on your hot cheeks. Reluctantly, you take Coriolanus' arm as he leads you deeper into the garden to a more secluded spot.

"You wouldn't have a bad life with me. As my First Lady, you would have everything you wanted. I would fund your research. You could leave Dr. Gaul's lab and build your own, not wait for her to die, so you can inherit her legacy. You could have built your own one."

"No, Coriolanus! You can't bribe me! If you really think that I am shallow enough to agree to marry you and to play according to the illusion you have created in your head, then you are delusional. WE. ARE. DONE."

You turn around and try to get away from him. But before you can, Coriolanus grabs your hand and spins you around, causing you to bump straight into his chest.

Before you can even think about slapping him, he captures your lips with his. You moan even more in shock into his mouth when you feel him place something cold on your finger.

You somehow manage to wriggle out of his grip enough so that his hands and mouth can't reach you. You stare at the ring on your finger in shock. A big fucking diamond that probably glows in the dark and you could gouge out his eyes with if you hit him... which you really wanted to do right now.

"What are you doing?! Corio-mph!" He cuts you off with a kiss before you can get anyone's attention with your scream or really hit him.

You struggle against his grip, your nails digging into his arms, but he just groans and pins you to the tree, ignoring the pain you caused him. Before you can even realise where his hands are, he reaches back and unbuttons your dress. The material slides down to your hips, giving him a perfect view of your bare breasts.

You shiver as you watch him lick his lips and lean down to fuck the skin of your collarbone with kisses, holding your hips in an iron grip as he pins you to the tree. The cold air hits your bare skin, in contrast to Coriolanus's hot breath and tongue.

"I missed you." He whispers in your ear as his hands cup the curve of your breasts and squeeze them.

His touch is everywhere, slithering over you and clinging to you like a snake, wrapping itself around you tenderly and greedily, taking advantage of every opportunity he has. His mouth is as dynamic as his hands, biting at the tender spots of your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his own when all he can think about is your body, pressed against him.

"I can give you everything. The whole world. For your touch, kiss, and moan when you come around me. All you have to do is accept me, me, and our future. It only takes one yes from you to make you my equal... and it only takes one no from you to make me destroy everything you love and everything you know. I will be the only one you can come to and the only person you will remember. I will destroy you if that is the price of having you, Y/N. I promise you that."

His whispered words against your skin, the hot touch of his tongue in all the right places on your neck, his hands teasing your breasts, and your quick, heavy breaths are distracting. You can't think straight, not when he's stimulating your senses, teasing your nipples, or when he's whispering his dark promises you should've been afraid of.

You come to your senses the moment one of his hands cups your abused breasts and slips under your dress, cupping your pussy. His long fingers tease you through the fabric of your panties, collecting the wetness he caused, and that's when the gravity of the whole situation hits you.

"No. Stop it. Stop! Help!" You scream, trying to push him away, but he covers your mouth with his hand brutally, drowning out any screams. You squeal as he presses his knee against your clothed cunt in an attempt to tease you.

You look at him with wide eyes as you freeze when his knee begins to rub against your most sensitive, wet (to your defeat and disgust) at his attention, part of your body.

"It ends only with me inside you, so you can either be a good girl for me or continue to be a stubborn brat and delay and deny us our pleasure. You have no idea how many times I came just from watching you from afar. You have no idea how much I want, crave, and desire you. I can't think or function normally. I can't create any plans without thinking about how wonderfully this tight pussy felt around me and how I need your soft walls to tighten around me again. So shut up and let me bring pleasure to us both, or try to keep fighting. Your stubborn struggle only excites me more, my petal."

To confirm his words, he presses himself against you, making you feel his hardness pressing through his pants and pressing against your lower abdomen. You breathe quickly, trying to think of a way out of this situation. You were in the fucking garden in the middle of a party—the gala of the year! Someone must have come here. He couldn't have just... taken you here.

"So? Will you finally accept your fate and place by my side, or do I need to break you? And trust me… I'll have even more fun."

His hands move to your hips. He changes your position, pressing you against the tree, his length rubbing through his pants against your clothed and wet core. You are trapped.

You could resist him, and maybe he would let you go... but then what? You and your family will be destroyed in the eyes of the Capitol if he wins and becomes president. You'll be finished, and your whole career will go to hell if you don't do it.

So you sigh, defeated. You close your eyes, place your hands on his shoulders, hold him for balance, and nod your head, surrendering to him.

"Look at me." You reluctantly comply, meeting his icy eyes with yours. His pupils are fully dilated, a faint blush decorates his cheeks, and you see the glint of victory and satisfaction in his eyes as he delights in his prey. You. "I need your words, my little petal." You bite your lip, furious that he's making you beg for him like a bitch in heat. As if he wasn't the one who desperately needed you all this time.

"I... please." You spit out, not looking at him. He grabs your neck in his grip and forces you to meet his gaze as his clothed body presses against your naked one, only in panties, your dress having slipped completely off of you at some point in your... conversation.

"Please what? More conviction and self-confidence, darling. Continue to be my little brat."

"Just fuck me, Coriolanus." You say it angrily, meeting his smug look. He smirks cockily, and in one quick movement, he cups the cheeks of your buttom with his hands and lifts you up, pinning you to the tree with his hips. You moan as he rubs against your clothed pussy and squeezes your ass tightly.

"Gladly." He growls, crashing into your mouth hungrily.

You gasp as he tears your panties in half, the cool night air hitting your exposed, hot womanhood. He moves his mouth to your breasts, sucking hickeys there as he teases your slick folds, making you blush with embarrassment at how wet you were for him.

He's not trying to stretch you or prepare you for taking his thick length after... such a long time of separation. The undoing of his belt and the zipper of his pants are the only warnings you get as you feel the tip of his cock with pre-cum rubbing at your entrance.

As he begins to enter you, you lower your head and bite into his neck, ignoring the collar of his shirt that covers most of his skin. Your saliva soaks his shirt as you moan into his neck.

"You know, I could have fucked you raw the day you thought you could leave me. I guess I should've done that. Put you over my knee for being a brat, give you a few spanks to remind you of your place, and fuck the baby inside you so you can focus on something meaningful. After all, your womb belongs to me, as do all of you. Although I don't know if you'd moan as sweetly and loudly as you do now… What kind of feeling is it? Having someone who you swore you despised wholeheartedly inside you? You take me too well, darling. Your smart, stubborn mouth may call me the worst names, but as long as those wet and tight down there welcome me like home, we both know what the truth is. We both know you want it as much as I do." He says, grunting as he pushes his cock into your tight pussy.

You both moan as he buries himself up to his balls inside you.

He grabs your hair and pulls your face away from his neck, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he gives you time to get used to the feeling of him inside you again. You mockingly think to yourself that he's waiting because he's afraid he'll finish too soon.

He fucks a line of kisses along your jaw as he begins to move. You hiss, digging your nails into his shoulders as you hold on to him. You think you've made a few little holes in his shirt with your nails, but that's your last concern now as he pounds into you faster and faster.

You both try to be quiet, trying not to attract anyone's attention, although, judging by the loud music coming from inside the building, it's unlikely that anyone will be looking for you. And hearing your grunts and moans is rather a huge challenge, but still, the last thing you want is for someone to walk into both of us...

"Mine. Only mine." Coriolanus growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful First Lady. Fuck. My future First Lady. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around this secluded part of the garden.

You think about everything. About how perfectly he fills you, what a bastard he is, how he drives you crazy with his words and moans and touches and thrusts, and how bad it is that you enjoy having sex with him and despise what he has done. But you have some needs too...

Unfortunately, Coriolanus was the only one who could meet them and satisfy you.

"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. We are the two sides of the same coin… WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.

You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss, but it is immediately followed by the realisation of what you have done.

You gave yourself to him. You agree to be engaged to him. The entire Capitol will be watching you. You will have to marry him if he wins the elections.

You're snapped out of your thoughts when he starts to move. But you don't open your eyes. You don't want to see him in his post-orgasmic state. You don't want to see his smug smirk and the twinkle in his eyes. You feel him press a kiss on your temple and slowly pull himself out of you, making you both moan.

You shiver as he sets you on your feet, supporting your waist with his hands. You feel how his seed, and your juices are lazily oozing down your thighs, reminding you of what you agreed to. About your deal with the devil.

You whine, grabbing his wrist in protest as he swipes the excess of your combined cum from your thighs and cunt.

"Don't worry, I know your limits." He says, pulling his hand away from your grip and licking it off. He gives you one of his fingers to suck, which you reluctantly agree to as he stuffs it into your mouth. "Good girl."

"Screw you."

He laughs at your hostility and zips up his pants. He reaches for your dress and helps you get back into it. After he rips your panties, you have to go without them, clearly feeling... the effects of your hot little moment.

"And what now?" You ask him as he puts on his jacket and buttons it, trying his best to hide the bloody marks you left on him.

"We go back to the party, I say goodbye to everyone I need to, and we leave. I have some rings for you to try on in my apartment. The one on your finger is only for a moment. It's big enough for them to notice it and start gossiping. You can choose which one you like more. My bed was also rather lonely and cold without you in it." He suggests, seductively, running a finger along your bare arm as he places the straps of your dress over your shoulders, making sure they don't slide down.

"Don't hope for more moments like this. I can play the doting fiancée in front of the Capitol, but behind closed doors, I'm not going to pretend that you're anything more than a pathetic, cold man who needs affection from someone who despises you with all her heart." You growl and push him away from you. You put your heels back on and take out your lipstick, powder, and mirror from your purse, fixing your appearance.

"It didn't look like you despised me when you cum around my cock just a few minutes ago." He points it out and walks over to you. He fixes his hair and yours and offers you his arm once you fix your makeup. You roll your eyes when you see in the mirror that he has tucked a rose behind your ear. AGAIN.

"Oh, shut up. I'd come around anyone. I haven't had sex in months." You say it angrily and place your hand in the crook of his arm as he leads you back towards the building and to the party.

"Same here." You snort derisively, not believing his confession even for a second.

"As if I could ever trust you again. Besides, you can fuck with Cardew and the others as much as you want. I don't care."

"I prefer to be with you, my little petal. Smile. We'll have company soon." He puts his arm around yours, pulling you closer to him as you walk down the path. In fact, Lucky Flickerman comes around the corner, talking with some women and men. They all giggle. The man stops when he sees the two of you.

"Oh... well... it looks like our future president is a womanizer." Coriolanus grimaces at his last word but is clearly happy that Lucky believes in his victory, so he smiles politely at the man.

"Quite the opposite. We just celebrated our engagement." He announces it proudly, and you hear the rest of Flickerman's company gossiping livelyly, watching you even more closely.

For the first time, you appreciate Coriolanus' strong arm wrapped around your waist. It's rather hard for you to stand after what you two did together a few minutes ago. You're glad you were able to finish before the group left for their walk.

"Oh! Congratulations! You have to come to my new show. People will go crazy when they hear about how Capitol's most popular couple is taking the next step in their relationship! And I think we are all very curious about your beginnings. And the wedding will come soon! I guess right after the election, am I wrong? Oh, it doesn't matter, lovebrids. It is indeed an amazing year for the society of Capitol and Panem."

"We will, Lucretius. Maybe as a presidential couple? Who knows... What do you think about it, my darling? Would you like an interview about us?" Coriolanus turns his head and looks at you questioningly, with mock concern and affection in his eyes. Only you can see how false his act is... or at least you think he is just pretending.

You hear one of the women gushing over the look and the way Coriolanus addresses you. The clever bastard plays the card of a guy who is head over heels in love to gain even more sympathy from society before the elections.

"It would be amazing, honey." You reply with a smile, leaning more into him as Flickerman and the others say how adorable the two of you are.

And you just stand there smiling, playing your part as the happy bride. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Coriolanus stealing glances at you, and you can't help but wonder... is he really that good at acting, or is he serious in his desire for you and your feelings?

Coriolanus's arm wraps around your waist possessively, like a snake, as the two of you pose for photos. Camera flashes blind you, but you keep a fake smile on your lips.

Several months have passed since your... interaction in the garden. You continued to play his loving fiancée in front of the Capitol, but you remained cold and uncaring towards him. You haven't fucked in the garden since then. You made sure to push and move away from him whenever he got too close to you in private.

Luckily, you didn't have to move into his apartment, and you still lived with your parents. You managed to convince him that moving would be pointless if you were about to move into the presidential palace. You prayed every day that this wouldn't happen.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that he turns his head to look at you. You automatically do the same without thinking much about it. And that's your mistake. When you meet his intense gaze of icy blue eyes... you can't look away. You feel like he's holding you tightly by the chin and forcing you to look into his irises... But how can you look away when you see emotions in his eyes that they would never dare admit to you? And judging by the way it sent photographers into a frenzy as they screamed in excitation, you know you're not the only one who saw it.

You still can't figure out if it's just an act or if he actually has feelings for you. Something more than a sick obsession. Maybe you were really starting to have symptoms of Stockholm syndrome?

He pulls you from your thoughts as he leans towards you to tell you something, trying to shout over the crowd around you.

"Are you ready? Shall we go to our seats?"

You nod at him. He takes your hand in his and leads you inside the building, where the official announcement of the results is to take place. The crowd around you whistles in delight as he sees how protectively he treats you and how he guides you through the crowd while making sure you keep up with his pace and don't follow him. He has you beside him, gently distant away—enough for him to be able to cover you in case of any danger.

He leads you to a place of honour next to Dr. Gaul. He kisses you on the cheek and leaves to take his place on the podium in front of the cameras with the other candidates.

"Nice ring." The woman next to you says, a teasing smirk on her lips.

"He would put a collar around my neck with his name on it if he could. I suppose you would help him with that." You snort indignantly and furiously, at which she laughs.

"I can't deny that I'm rooting for you two." You roll your eyes at her and focus your gaze on Lucky, who opens the event.

You know very well that if he becomes president, you will lose everything. All your freedom. You will have to play the role of his devoted wife and mother to his children for the rest of your life. It is true that you will have funds at your disposal to conduct your own research in the laboratory, but will it make you happy? Could you live like that?

"But there can only be one winner…" Lucky's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You and the entire Capitol are waiting for the results. To hear the name of your new president. "And that is CORIIOLANUS SNOW! Ladies and gentlemen, let's salute our president!"

The world is dying around you. People shout and chant the name of Coriolanus; there is a huge noise of applause and joy. You won't leave your seat. You sit there, frozen, realising the harsh truth. Now, nothing can stop him. He can do anything he wants, and you know damn well that he, like all these people, has no boundaries.

"But where is he? Where is our president?" Before you can look around, you feel hands cupping your face as someone pulls you to the left. Coriolanus' lips crash against yours, and you can only moan into his sudden, passionate kiss and let him do whatever he wants. "Oh, yes, that's where he is! Where else could a man be after hearing that he had won? Of course, at the side of his chosen one, his life companion, and his beloved! This is how it should be, my friends! This is who the Capitol has chosen! A man who loves his woman above all else and shares his joys and sorrows with her. That's the real power, my friends. The power of love. Ladies and gentlemen, our president, who is heading right this way, Coriolanus Snow!"

You don't remember what happened next or what speech he made. Strangely enough, consciousness fully returns to you after a few glasses of champagne and wine. You are standing near the bar, away from the large crowd. Coriolanus is already giving another interview when Dr. Gaul approaches you.

"I warned you." She says, and you raise a questioning eyebrow at her. "When you started dating. That there is nothing more dangerous and beneficial to women than powerful men."

"You knew since then?"

"Of course. He is obsessed with power and control. He had his little songbird, but she ran away. Then he met you and you became his new... love interest or obsession. This boy is hard to read sometimes." He tells you as you both look at Coriolanus. Somehow, he feels your eyes on him. He nods at Dr. Gaul and throws you a smirk before his attention returns to the journalist.

"So... it was never true?" You ask, placing your empty glass on the bar.

"I think he cares about you... on his own way." She tells you, which doesn't make you feel any better. You sigh deeply and order a glass of vodka, which you immediately drink. "Oh, don't be so sad. That's life, my child. My husband was just like him. He was a controlling manipulator, but he had one thing that I didn't, the thing that helped me achieve greatness and be where I am now. To be a legend. An icon."

"And what was that?" You ask resignedly, focusing your attention on her.

"Money. A rich and, above all, powerful man is able to do anything if he is madly in love. And Mr. Snow is a perfect example of this. Tell me... how much money has he already put into you? How much did you get in return for the ounce of attention and closeness he so desperately craves? You didn't want to be a whore, but we women have to act like one sometimes."

"There must be another way." You argue, unable to accept such a… cruel truth, but she just laughs bitterly, mockingly.

"There is not. This is the world of men, my child. It is their pride that guides and makes all important decisions. Behind every man, however, there is a woman who... has the strength to overshadow his pride and direct him the way she wants. Unfortunately, you have to seduce him if you want to get what you want. But I know you. And I know you will be able to do it. I know that you, of all people, are the closest to following my path and carrying my legacy."

"I am not like you." You respond quickly, outraged by the ideas she's giving you and her opinion of you.

"Of course not. There are no women or men like me. Besides, you may become the First Lady. The most powerful woman in all of Panem. Take it. Accept his proposal and the ring that you think will be your prison. Use it wisely. To your advantage. It's a chance that not many of us have. Think about it."

You don't have a chance to answer her. Coriolanus approaches you with a huge smile on his face. He places a quick kiss on your cheek and wraps his hand around your waist before turning his full attention to Dr. Gaul.

"Congratulations, Mr. Snow. Or should I say... Mr. President?" She asks him teasingly with a smug, proud smirk. Eventually, her student became president.

"Dr. Gaul, you, of all people, can call me whatever you want." He responds with extreme happiness—a sight that is truly rare. You also think that he is more clingy than usual.

"I shall leave you two to celebrate then, President Snow." She says it with a smile and walks past you, giving you a wink.

You sigh, which doesn't go unnoticed by Coriolanus. He rubs his hand gently over your back and stands in front of you, leaning against the bar.

"We have to go. Photographers and papparazi are dying to take a picture of us both." He says, adjusting the necklace around your neck. You grab his hand and place it against your neck, staring at him from under your eyelashes as you lean towards him and whisper seductively.

"Don't you want to accept my... very warm congratulations first, Mr. President?"

You see that he is surprised by your behavior. He freezes for a moment in shock, looking at you carefully. He licks his lips as his thoughts race, and you casually run your hand over his vest, supposedly straightening it but actually caressing him gently, especially his abdominal muscles through the fabric of his clothes.

"What do you mean?" He asks shakily, swallowing as you intrude even further into his personal space.

"You know what..." You whisper, pressing your leg against his crotch. He hisses, feeling you rub your knee against his cock, which is hardening from your attention. He looks around the room quickly, relieved to see that no one is looking at you.

"Why such a sudden change?" He asks, quickly grabbing your hand that was getting dangerously close to the waistband of his pants as he begins to lead you out of the party and into a more… secluded room.

"There is no change. I still hate you and despise you. But what can I say... I am very drawn to a powerful man, my darling..." You mock him, calling him cute nicknames as he closes the door behind you.

You gasp, surprised, when he pins you immediately against the door. You feel his length press against your hip as he leans over you to whisper in your ear.

"You're going to fall in love with me again. I promise you this, my little petal." And with that, he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, sealing his oath.

And as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moan as his hands roam and tease your pussy with his fingers, preparing you for him, you wonder if even despite your dislike for him, he'll be able to do it. After all, he was a powerful man... but you were an equally powerful woman.

#oneshot #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #tbosbas #coriolanus snow x you #corionalus snow #toxic relationship #dark coriolanus snow #manipulation #smut #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #volumnia gaul #the hunger games #my first smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #snow lands on top #coriolanus x y/n

[the-californicationist]

Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! 😭♥️

Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)

im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.

Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?

The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.

Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.

You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.

"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.

"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."

His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.

Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,

"But that will not be bloody true for long."

As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.

"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"

There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.

Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.

He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.

The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.

"Fuck, you're warm..."

He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.

"Wet for me. So wet. How?"

Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.

"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."

When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.

"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."

You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?

"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."

He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.

"John..."

You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,

"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."

He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.

"You're gonna make me come, John."

Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,

"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."

Your body listened before you could even register his words.

From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...

"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.

Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.

"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."

"It's okay, John..."

"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."

"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.

You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,

"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."

Did you enjoy this tale or maybe some other work by me? Consider buying me a coffee, if you have the means. Kudos, likes, reblogs, and feral comments also work as well ^_^ Thanks!

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain johnathan price #cod price #price mw2 #price #price x reader #call of duty #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price smut #john price cod #price cod #sex pollen #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

[moonydustx]

A not so funny story

requests | mastelist

Summary: With Uta controlling everyone and the marine attacking, you needed to contain an unconscious Law who was looking to join the fight. Now, you need to deal with the consequences of him finding out about this.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: blood, Law hurts Reader (not on purpose), they both love each other, but they are idiots who don't know how to talk. Law doesn't know how to express his feelings in this one. Angst, kinda fluff/happy ending.

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: I just saw the movie Red and the idea came to my mind. I need to shake off the rust and get back to writing, I thought it would be a good solution. Despite being linked to the film OP Red, there may be some things that differ from the canon.

For those who haven't seen the film, a spoiler-free context: in the film, we see a singer called Uta, who Bepo is a fan of and, together with Law, go to the show. Problems happen, she puts everyone to sleep and with her power, she manipulates these sleeping people to fight with other people who want to stop her.

italics apply to flashbacks and thoughts

Part 2 | Part 3 (NSFW)

The cold stone beneath you contrasted with your hot, sweaty body. You could feel the wounds burning on your body and if you reached out your hand, you could find the cause of them, your captain.

In the distance, you could hear someone calling your name and it didn't take long for Penguin to appear in your field of vision.

"Are you okay?"

"He gave me a hard time, but I'm fine. And you?" You grumbled, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Apparently everyone had gone back to sleep.

"We're tired but fine. You're bleeding, do you need any help?"

"Everything is fine." You stood, with his help. "We need to get them out of here, I doubt the marines will miss the chance to catch so many pirates gathered in one place. At the very least, this will end in a fight."

You chose to help carry Bepo back to Polar Tang. Even though he was big, sharing the weight would be much easier than carrying Law alone. As soon as you entered the submarine, you disappeared from sight, leaving all of Uta's fight behind.

"Do you guys need help? I can see some pretty bad injuries from here." Ikkaku approached, already stopping the blood on your forehead. "Are they both okay?"

"We should take them to the infirmary and keep them under observation." you warned, seeing two other crew members carry them out of sight. "Can we get away from the fight?"

"Yeah, off their radar." someone answered you in the background.

"Perfect, keep us at this depth, keep an eye on the radios, any sign of change, if Law hasn't woken up, you look for me." You leaned against one of the tables, trying to ignore some of the pain in your body.

It was supposed to be just a quick show, at least that's what Bepo had said. Unfortunately for Law, he ended up being the polar bear's requested companion.

"Sure you don't want to change places with me?" Law appeared next to you, while you finished cleaning the kitchen.

"No captain, I'll be right here, with my duties." You smiled at him and, despite being frustrated, he let out a sideways smile.

"You know that I'm the captain right? That I can give the order and you have to go and I don't."

"You wouldn't be so mean, would you?" you asked indignantly and on one of the few occasions, you heard him laugh, even if it was low tone. "Captain!"

"I'm kidding. Just keep an eye on everything, okay? Don't let Shachi and Penguin cause any trouble."

"Yes, sir. And you, enjoy the show."

You were almost regretting not accepting the proposal. Law would certainly be much better at containing you and preventing you from getting into a big fight than you would be doing the opposite. But you liked the idea of ​​him trusting you.

"Everything is alright?" Ikkaku took you out of your reverie, noticing your body slightly bent and the blood falling on your forehead.

"Try holding back a furious Trafalgar Law from wanting to get into a fight and tell me if that's okay." You laughed, even though it took some of the air out of you. "Just a few bruises, nothing major."

"Come on, I'll help you take care of this." Ikkaku gently pulled you by the hand.

"Boys, do you deal with them?" you asked and they both nodded. "If Law wakes up, don't say anything to him about our little fight."

"You mean, about the big fucking beating he gave you?" Shachi teased you, earning a push.

"Exactly. He has bigger problems to worry about than dealing with this."

You and Ikkaku headed towards the dorm you shared. Your friend made a point of supporting you at every step, even if you insisted it wasn't necessary. She sat you down on the bed and grabbed a small first aid kit hidden on one of the shelves.

"Why not tell the captain?"

"Outch" you mumbled with one of the stitches she had on your face. "I have a feeling he's not going to like that we got into this fight without his presence."

"I think he'll be more resentful that you were the one who held him back." You laughed at her silly observation, then grumbled with another needle. Damn fight. "Don't act stupid."

"What you mean?"

"I'll let you choose. Between you being the only one who can steal books from him without him complaining or about every time we disembark, you having to be on his side. Should I mention that time he freaked out because Kid wanted to take you to the crew from him?" she laughed to herself, at her own memory. "What do you need to see that he likes you too?"

"And who said I like him?"

"Okay, you still want to keep hiding your feelings for him, just hide it better." she laughed again. It was clear to her - and anyone else who saw - that there was something between the two of you. You just prefer not to feed this illusion. "Still, I agree that he won't like all this one bit. Let's try to keep out of his sight."

Law was still trying to assimilate everything that happened. Uta's show had turned into a war scene and in the end, even he had become a puppet. That idea would haunt him for a long time.

Despite recent events, Polar Tang was quiet, too quiet. He could hear some buzzing, nothing he could identify. Another thing he couldn't place was you. The last time he saw you, he had tried to bargain for your presence at the show, even though he had asked to change places with you, he didn't think the idea of ​​going with you was bad. You'd probably hate the song, but he'd enjoy your sarcastic comments about any awkward situation. A small laugh crossed his lips when he thought about what you would say to see little Bepo.

At dinner, he observed Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, talking to each other. The concerned expressions denoted the seriousness of the matter, but that could come later. Even though he slept through it all, he still felt tired.

At lunch the next day, again, nothing from you. Ikkaku was also missing. It was impossible for the two of them to have disappeared together and without any justification. He tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios, but no matter how much he denied it, he wasn't such an optimistic person.

It only took a few seconds of your three companions stalling for him to know that you and Ikkaku were up to something or had already been up to something. He left them behind, following with firm steps to your room.

"I didn't see you two at lunch or yesterday at dinner, I wanted to know..." you two found Law leaning against the door of your room. His relaxed position disappeared in seconds when he looked at where Ikkaku's hand joined your forehead. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches, nothing major." your colleague replied before you could open your mouth. She knew - actually, you weren't that good at hiding it - about your feelings and how easily you could wrap your head around your own words.

"Yeah, they're from yesterday, some scratches." you tried to complement, the captain's serious expression made it clear that that hadn't helped at all.

"Nothing much and that's why you haven't shown up since yesterday?" he grumbled and before he could continue his lecture, he felt his body being pushed forward, with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin falling beside him. "What the fuck?"

"We just wanted to know if you already know that she was the one..." before the bear finished speaking, the other two covered his mouth.

The grey eyes trailed from you to Ikkaku, to the group lying next to him, and back to you again. The small stress that was forming inside Law turned into concern when he saw the small trickle of blood dripping from your eyebrow.

It only took a few moments away for you to appear like that and he would never tolerate that, you didn't need to know about his feelings or how he was already thinking about taking revenge on whoever had done that, he would deal with it after taking care of your wound .

"Everyone out." you made to follow Ikkaku, stopping a few meters away. "Not you, I need to see this."

The door to the small room knocked subtly behind Law, who waited for a few seconds to approach you. The two of you already had a considerable height difference, but when you felt Law's cold, tattooed fingers on your chin, you felt even smaller. He turned both sides of your face, despite the cold touch, you could feel your skin burn beneath his fingers.

"You're warm, but I don't see any trace of infection." Not this one, you thought. "Give me the name?"

"Name?"

"Which idiot did this?" he replied without much patience, his fingers leaving your face behind.

"This is going to be a funny story." you laughed, stopping immediately when you saw him look deep into your eyes, his expression serious in an almost irritating way.

"Someone decided to hurt one of my crew. I don't think it's such a funny story. Who did it?"

"Captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law." your answer didn't seem to catch him instantly, with each word that left your mouth, you could see him getting paler and paler. "I believe you already know, but Uta managed to control everyone who was asleep to attack the pirates and the marines and with that, you and Bepo were also controlled. The boys held Bepo and I had to deal with you, but everything is fine. "

"They told me about Bepo..." he seemed lost for words, taking a certain distance from you and leaning on the small table in your room. "So you restrained me, alone?"

"You, actually Uta, didn't have access to your Devil Fruit powers, it ended up being easier. After all, our mission was just to keep you two away from the navy." you explained, leaning on the opposite side to where he was, seeing his crestfallen expression. "Like I said, it's okay captain."

"Where else did I hurt you?" the question took you by surprise, making it difficult to hide your reaction. "I know my strength, I have a feeling it wasn't just that. I could see it myself, but I trust you, so please."

With your fists clenched and your gaze following your every step, Law could see your hand go to your ribs, along with a grumble, as you bent down to pick up a small cloth and fill it with something that smelled similar to alcohol. As much as he noticed you trying hard, he could see you limping. He watched you smear the contents on one of your cheeks and your arm, revealing some bruises.

You stopped in front of him, letting him analyze. Despite the pain throughout your body, Law's proximity was almost like an anesthetic. If he stayed there, you wouldn't mind spending the day under his gaze. Law took your arm, gently sliding his fingers under the bruise, watching you flinch in discomfort. His hands practically put your arm back in place and placed themselves on the zipper of your jumpsuit.

Your hands placed themselves next to his, pulling the device and opening the entire piece. Of all the times he had dreamed of touching your skin, none had felt like this. He liked to imagine how soft it would be, to think about how your body would shiver, to feel with his own lips every piece of exposed skin, while he heard you ask for more. All the purple spots he had dreamed of leaving on your skin were nothing like the one he saw. Thoughts would need to be put aside at that moment.

His hand knocked down one side of your jumpsuit, showing the large bruise on your rib, which made him hold his breath for a few seconds.

"What else?" his voice was barely audible. He knew there was more to it, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Just this cut." you took off the other strap of your jumpsuit and let it fall below your waist, showing the wound on your thigh. It wasn't that big, but when you both looked at the place, you understood where all the warmth in your body was coming from. "Shit. It wasn't like this last time I looked." actually it was, you just wanted to spare him the worry.

You adjusted your jumpsuit, leaving the top hanging around your waist. Your eyes searched for Law's, but he seemed to be far away, even just a few centimeters away. For some time, he didn't say anything. His eyes followed one point you had shown and others, looking for other signs. His hands prostrated in front of his body, why had he done that? Why hurt you?

"Law?"

"I...I..." the words seemed stuck somewhere inside him. His hands placed themselves next to your face, a gesture you hadn't received from him yet. "I don't know how to apologize. Forgive me, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"No need, Law, really. I was doing what any of us would do, taking care of our crew, taking care of our captain."

Again the words seemed to have escaped him. He just wished he could hold you and apologize a thousand times, hold you there and heal every little part of you and never allow anything to hurt you again. Some conscious side of him screamed in the background that this wasn't anyone's fault, but the sound seemed so far away to hear, while the picture of what he had done was so close to him.

A few seconds passed, his hands were still on your face, while you just enjoyed the awkward affection you received. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling, it was a guilt like he had never felt. Along with a fear, a need to see you well. There were too many things to deal with and at that moment, he chose to be the most rational one.

"It's infected and may have broken something." Law let his medical side take control of the situation. "Room. Shambles."

Before you even noticed the blue dome surrounding you, the two of you had already been transported to the infirmary. You remained standing in your place as you watched the captain hurriedly walk around the room, collecting some materials and before you could try to get on the stretcher, the two of you were already being taken to another place.

The table full of books, the small window of the Polar Tang showing some little orange fish passing by outside, a cozy bed, even with the sheets spread out. That definitely wasn't your room. You watched Law leave the materials on the table and reach Kikoku. You saw the blue dome again, this time, you knew that he was using his powers to confirm that you had indeed presented all your injuries to him.

"I was worried about your rib, but apparently it was just the bruise. Now about your leg, I may need to redo those stitches and medicate you. I can't let the infection spread."

You knew he was nervous, bordering on anxious, but you had known him long enough to know that stopping him from treating you would be even worse. You had chosen to hide your injuries so that Law wouldn't feel guilty, now that he knew, you didn't have much else to do.

"Law." you called out to him carefully, as he prepared the medication. "Do you mind if I bathe first?"

"Sure, I mean, no problem. Just wait a second." He walked away from the table and piled up some things, which he handed into your hand. "Here's my towel, I also left some clothes in case you want to use them, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can ask Ikkaku..."

"This is perfect, thank you Law." you hugged the small bundle of clothes close to your body.

"Room." again, in a matter of seconds, you were at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, but your leg is really hurt, you shouldn't force it while walking."

"Okay" unlike the time he had taken you to the infirmary, now he had transported you close to each other, which made the air disappear from your lungs. "Can you wait for me? I mean, you said I wouldn't I should force my leg and..."

"I'll be outside, just call me and I'll be here." Please call me, Law's inner voice practically screamed.

Your shower was much quicker than you expected. Just knowing that he was waiting for you outside made butterflies fight in your stomach. You gently dried your body and took the clothes he had given you. Something that looked like shorts - it might have been underwear, but you didn't worry about that right now - and a black button-down shirt. As soon as you button the last button, you can pay attention to the smell of the fabric. Something soft, woody, you wondered if that was his scent.

"Law?" All it took was a small call and he soon entered the bathroom. Not as discreetly as he expected, his eyes roamed your body. "Can you help me?"

"Of course" your feet left the floor, giving you a few seconds to assimilate that he had picked you up and carried you back to the room. He hadn't done this before, but you preferred to just enjoy the sensation, locking your arms around his neck.

With a few steps inside the room, he placed you lying on the bed, pulling a rod further to the side, only then did you notice the hanging IV.

Law bent down, reaching your arm level, cleaning it with a small piece of cotton. He looked at the wound on your leg. In silence, he cleaned the area and took some bandages, placing them across the entire length of the wound. The contrast between your warm skin and his cold hands was strangely comfortable. You wished they would last a little longer there.

"I think we can leave these stitches for another day, but I need you to take this medicine. It's an antibiotic, the infection is small, but I'd rather take care of it soon." He pulled the small needle, seeing your face pale. "I'm sorry darling, but it's the best option we have."

Darling.

That word would echo in your mind for a long time. The fear of the needle that was about to come into contact with your skin eased when you saw the care he took with each gesture.

"Just don't look, okay?" He waited for you to close your eyes. "Just a few seconds and that's it. You'll feel sleepy, but that's normal. As soon as you wake up, I'll bring you something to eat."

He got up and started to adjust the pillows on the bed, the ones that were around and under you. His hands rested around your body, his body was on top of yours, even without any immediate contact. It was inevitable not to get lost in his eyes, or see him do the same with yours. You would like to engrave that in your memory, forever.

"Are you comfortable?" his face still had the same tense expression from the first moment he found you in the room.

"I am, I promise." you replied, in a burst of courage, you brought your hand to his face, touching his cheek. "Law, what worries you so much?"

He walked away, sitting at the foot of the bed. You just straightened up so you could look at him. His tattooed hands took off his hat, fingers tangling against the dark strands.

"I can't deal with the fact that I did this. I did this to you. Of all the people that could have been there, I hurt you." he grumbled, turning so he could look at you. "You do not understand."

"Actually, I understand." your answer left him stunned for a few seconds. "But don't blame yourself, you didn't choose this, captain"

"I know, but at the same time..." he huffed, trying to find the right words, which scratched his insides every time he looked at your scourged face. "You understand me, huh? I mean, I don't just see you as a crew member and something tells me you don't just see me as your captain. And knowing that of all the things that could have happened, I hurt you. I promise compensate you for everything."

"About what you said, about what we see in each other." your thought was interrupted by a long yawn. "What should we do about this?" You made to get up, but the IV attached seemed to transmit drowsiness straight to your body. Your eyes were already starting to get heavy.

"That we can deal with this later. You took care of me, now it's my duty to take care of you. For that, you need to rest." His hands reached yours, giving a slight laugh when he saw you fighting with your own eyes, wanting to leave them open. "I promise not to hurt you again or let anyone else hurt you."

Before you fall asleep for good, you can feel his lips on your hand.

#one piece #op imagines #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #no use of y/n #fiction #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #requests open #one piece film red #heart pirates

[harmoonix]

Short Astro Observations Part II

🍃 - Moon in Capricorn/Moon at Capricorn Degrees (10°, 22°) can ofer feel overwhelmed by their thoughts, there is something in their thoughts that makes them to feel this way

🍃 - Moon - Saturn aspects can develop anxiety and panick attacks (some of them can be developed if the native had bullying) and some of them can appear later in life

🍃 - Saturn in Pisces/Saturn at Pisces Degrees (12°, 24°) can often get lost in their dreams. These natives may like to sleep a lot

🍃 - Lilith - Sun aspects can get hate/jealousy/envy without any reason. Like people can aspire to be like them and because they cannot they try to ruin them

🍃 - Mars aspecting Moon or Mercury cannot really handle their emotions when they are angry. Is like they need to take all the nervous energy out of them…Is not something they can control

🍃 - Can we take a bit of a moment to talk about how pretty people with Venus in the 10th house will be? They age like fine wine

🍃 - People with Mercury in Sagittarius have the talent to write poetic things, it can be anything like a story or a book but they can make it to look poetic

🍃 - Ascendant aspecting the Moon natives are so pretty, they have this calmly/peace vibes and often giving hugs makes them the cutest

🍃 - Pisces/Scorpio/Gemini placements = love for sad songs, they like listening to nostalgic/sad songs and have this moody vibe

🍃 - Aries Sun/Moon/Risings have perfect eyebrows. Everyone I know with these placements has eyebrows taken out from heaven

🍃 - Virgo Moons/ Moon at Virgo's Degrees (6°, 18°) can have multiple phobias/fears to certain things. In general Virgo Moons want to keep themselves safe from everything and will do that in most times

🍃 - Leo/Libra/Aquarius Risings and their hair is everything 🤌🏼🤌🏼they can have the most shining healthy hair ever

🍃 - Sagittarius Placements are my lil' explorer people. Everytime I see Sagittarius Placements in someone's chart I teleport to heaven and back.. I just know they are embodying Tarzan when I see them 🤌🏼🤌🏼

🍃 - Neptune aspecting the ascendant can have a very soft/sensbile skin (omg esp if you have conjunct) you can get scratches fast

🍃 - You want someone who can talk with you sincerely? Find someone with Jupiter - Asc aspects. They can tell you the truth even if they already know what's the lie in the conversation

- Harmoonix 🍃🌱

#astrology #astro observations #birth chart #astrology observations #fyp tumblr #fyp2023 #astro fyp #astro notes #placements #astro community #horoscope #ascendant #zodiac #zodiac observations

[notafunkiller]

love me like you paid me - co-written with @marvelouslizzie​

Summary: You accompany businessman Bucky Barnes to all the events he has to attend, and you find yourself wishing he wasn’t paying you to be his date.

Pairing: businessman!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (the reader is 24, Bucky is 34), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, nipples play, oral sex, clit play, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), cursing, no mention of y/n 

Word Count: 11K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: @marvelouslizzie and I had a great time writing this story, and we really hope you will, too, while reading it.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

> I think I'll be late for a couple of minutes, I am very sorry. You can go inside, you just need to say your name.

You look at the text he sent you once again, to make sure you didn’t miss any details. The thought of going inside alone spikes up your anxiety even though you never met him before. Everything looks so fancy, and you are already feeling out of place.

So you decide to wait. It's better for appearances, anyway. You didn't properly establish the context of you being his plus-one before, and you don't want to make mistakes.

And it doesn't even take a long time. He arrives just five or six minutes later. You watch him get out of the car and look around before your eyes finally meet for the first time.

"I am so, so sorry for being late. But why are you standing here?" He says awkwardly looking at you from head to toe twice as he starts arranging his suit jacket.

“I thought it would be better if we go inside together. It wouldn't look too convincing if we came separately.”

He nods. "Smart. I'm sorry, I'm..." He pauses, unsure, and extends his hand. "You're very beautiful, thank you. I'm Bucky."

You offer him a smile while extending your hand and giving him your name. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself.”

He snorts. "Not thanks to me."

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"I meant my stylist." He explains, freeing your hand.

“Oh.” You feel awkward. You didn’t even think about that. “Yeah, but you are carrying it well.”

You see his cheeks getting red. "Thank you. Shall we go inside?"

“Yeah, of course.” You offer him your arm.

"I think I should be doing that." He does the same thing.

You feel so embarrassed for a second but take his arm anyway. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“Don't be sorry." He gives the man at the entrance a smile before saying your names, and in no time, you are led to your table.

You take a look around, trying to be as subtle as possible. It’s even fancier than it seemed when you were waiting for him outside and people seem to know one another as they greet and talk to each other. You feel a faint pain in your stomach.

"You know… in case someone asks you, my three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas."

“What?” You feel so lost.

"My three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas." He repeats this expired joke he read online at some point. "You know, eating my family and eating, my family."

You suddenly snort, not expecting him to make a joke like this.

"I guess you can smile, and what a beautiful smile you have." He pauses and scrunches his nose as soon as he finishes the phrase. "I don't mean to be you know... I am not trying to...."

“You are not trying to what?” You’re still smiling because of his dad joke, totally unaware of why he’s trying to explain himself.

"To make you uncomfortable or something. I just wanted to help you feel better. I am surprised, though. Usually, models feel a little less nervous."

“Model?” You repeat, visibly confused. “I’m… I’m not a model.” Did they tell him you were a model?

"Oh, it explains the height." He lets out a deep breath.

“The height?” You can’t believe he actually said that. Like your height isn’t good enough for his standards. Probably, you aren’t good enough for his standard since you aren’t a model.

"Oh god, no." He groans. "That sounded terrible. I meant, models usually are very tall and look... different. I told them I don't want a model, but my team didn't quite listen. That’s why I said that."

“So you aren’t the one who specifically wanted a model?”

"God, no." He shakes his head. "I actually chose you." He scrunches his nose again. "That sounds even more terrible."

“I know you chose me. How do you think they found a photo of me to send you?”

Bucky snorts. "I should shut up."

“No, no. I mean…” You lower your voice a little to make sure no one hears you. “I was aware of what this is when I said yes. It’s fine.”

"I am making a fool out of myself, I am sorry."

“No, you are not. It’s actually helping me to relax because I was really worried about…” You stop yourself right before saying something stupid.

"Did I seem intimidating?"

“Yeah.” You quickly accept it because his choice of words is much nicer than what you were originally thinking. You expected him to be a pretentious asshole. Instead, he seems like he’s just as nervous as you are.

He smiles. "What would you like to drink?"

“White wine is fine.” It seems like a safe choice.

"I love wine." He smiles. "And to be honest, it’s the only thing I drink at those events. Oh, and champagne, of course."

“That also works, but I can’t have too much.”

"Want to order food before?"

“No, not because of that. I have an early work meeting tomorrow.”

"Oh, we can leave earlier." He immediately offers. "I don't stick much around usually, anyway."

“That’s not necessary, we can stay as much as you want. I’m already prepared for my meeting. I just don’t want to seem unprofessional tomorrow by looking like I have a huge hangover. I kinda need it to go well.”

"What do you do if you're not a model?" He asks with a smile, genuinely curious to find out more information.

“I am running my own bakery.”

"That sounds so awesome. Family business?"

“No. I actually started it pretty recently. Still learning how to manage a business and get clients.” You suddenly stop, feeling self-conscious. “Sorry. That must sound really silly to you.”

"Silly?" He tries to tuck back a few strands of his hair as he looks at you. "I want to know more. If you want to share of course. Maybe I can even help. I know how hard it can be, especially when you don't have experience. Do you have a partner?"

“No.” You can’t help but smile because he seems genuinely interested. “I’m doing it by myself. Or rather trying.”

"Wow, that must be exhausting and challenging. Do you have employers? How new..." he stops mid-sentence when the waiter comes. "Can you bring us some white wine, please?"

"What kind?"

You watch him as he casually orders a specific brand, then his eyes meet yours again. You realize he’s actually waiting for your answer. “I have one person that works with me.”

"Paying a salary must be hard."

“Yeah, money is kinda tight.” That’s the whole reason you accepted being his date tonight: you want to be able to pay Nicole’s salary, but you don’t say that.

"I'm sorry." He sighs. "Maybe I can help, though." He thinks about a donation or something, but he doesn't even know you or your business.

“You already are. Don’t worry about it.”

The waiter returns with the wine, asking you if you want to taste it, but Bucky gives him a polite smile after looking at you. "Thank you, but no need."

The man nods and starts pouring slowly.

When you taste the wine, you understand why he specifically asked for this one. It leaves a really gentle after-taste on your tongue.

"Do you like it?" He asks nervously as he takes a sip himself.

“Very much. Probably the best wine I have ever tasted.”

"I am so glad to hear that. But did you eat anything before coming here?”

“Ihm… No.”

"Then we should order. Excuse me," he calls the waiter again with a hand gesture.

While he is ordering food, you find the perfect moment to stare at him. He’s speaking in a way that shows he belongs here. He is kind yet commanding. You focus on his face and watch a strand fall on his forehead. He doesn’t pay any attention to it, just gently pushing it back, but you find yourself taking a deeper breath. His lips are full, his smile is gentle and his eyes are curious. That’s when you notice he is actually talking to you.

"Do you have preferences?"

You shake your head. You have no idea what preference he is talking about, but even if you did you are sure you would have no idea what to order in a place like this.

"Do you trust me with this?" 

“Yeah.” You quickly answer to cover the fact that you weren’t paying attention to his food choices. “Just no sea food, please.”

"Of course." He nods and turns his attention to the waiter again. "The same for her, please. Also a bottle of water."

*

It's already pretty late, and it's clear neither of you has much energy left, but you can't interrupt this conversation. You are trying to listen so you can be prepared if they ask you something.

"I agree, the market doesn't look good, but let's see if something changes once they apply the new policies," he says looking at both of you for a couple of seconds. "It's hard for new businesses, unfortunately."

You take a deep breath, knowing what he says is true and how it affects you. Still, you don’t comment on anything, just watching them.

Bucky leans in, laughing politely when the man cracks a bad joke, and you notice how a few  hair strands fall on the side of his face and forehead.

Before your mind can register what you are doing, you find yourself leaning towards him and pushing the hair back. Then you notice what you’ve just done and freeze. Your hand lingers on his hair.

He freezes too, mid-sentence, and looks at your hand, his neck getting so red in just a few seconds.

"Oh, look at that. Your girlfriend is taking good care of you." The man in front of you teases. 

“I’m sorry.” You try to retreat your hands as gracefully as possible so it won’t look suspicious. His hair is back in its place.

"Don't apologize." Bucky smiles, taking your hand into his. "She's always shy in public."

“I forgot for a second we are in public.” That’s not a lie. You really forgot your surroundings and how you were supposed to behave.

"What a beautiful girlfriend you have, Barnes."

You can feel your cheeks burning because of his words. You are not his girlfriend obviously, but will he point that out?

"She's also incredibly smart. You know, she started her own bakery a few months ago in this crazy market."

“Really?”

"Yes, with no help either. I'm really proud of her."

Did he just say he’s proud of you? Jesus christ…

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. You know why?” He’s directly asking you that question, and you just shake your head as in no. “Because he started his own company, probably around your age, too.”

"Michael..."

That you didn’t know. You had no idea how he got this rich, and hearing that makes you feel more hopeful.

“I’m just saying.” The man continues. “I can see why you like her. And she’s pretty lucky because she can get the best investment advice or tips on how to run a successful business from you.”

"Oh, trust me, I am luckier." He gives you the warmest smile you've ever received.

You have no idea what to say or do. Should you act like his girlfriend? Should you just smile and nod? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? You should return the compliment. You would definitely do that if he was your boyfriend. 

“Oh, I know how lucky I am,” you say with a smile.

Bucky takes a quick look at his watch. "Alright, I think we need to go. Tomorrow is a long work day. Hope you don't mind." He shakes Michael's hand.

"It was nice to see you."

You are glad it’s finally time to leave. You were getting worried about how much longer you would have to stay here. Not because of him. Bucky seems like a perfectly nice guy, but this fancy place makes you uncomfortable. You gently smile while shaking Michael’s hand and take Bucky’s arm.

"Have a good evening. It was nice to meet you."

“It was nice meeting you too, Michael.”

"I'm sorry for that. Took too long," Bucky whispers in your ear.

“The event isn’t even over yet. We are leaving early.” He shouldn’t have to say sorry for something you agreed to do.

"Is it okay if we drive you home?" He gestures to his driver who's pulling in. You didn't even realize when he texted him.

“You don’t have to, I can take a cab.”

"At this hour?" He puffs. "Not in a thousand years. My driver can drop you off." Bucky offers instantly. It's clear he won't let this go.

“Only if it won’t be a bother…”

"Of course not." He gestures to his driver. "I want you to drop the lady off and make sure she gets inside safely, please. I'll take a cab."

“What?” You didn’t expect him to take a cab. “No, I can’t accept that.”

"Please. Also thank you for tonight, I am really grateful and I enjoyed having you here."

“Bucky…” You stop for a second, feeling hesitation over using his name. “Can I call you Bucky?”

"Of course."

“Bucky, thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You are a gentleman, but I can’t take your car. I thought you meant dropping me at my place on your way home.”

"I thought..." he pauses. "You felt uncomfortable around me and that's why you refused the ride."

“No. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you?”

He smiles shyly and opens the door for you. "Alright, then let's go."

You really don’t know why he thought that and it bothers you. While you take your seat, you decide to apologize for what happened in there. Maybe that’s why he felt uneasy.

He looks absolutely confused when you actually say the words. "What?"

“I am just really sorry about what I did back there. I don’t know what came over me.”

"What did you do?”

“You know… Making you uncomfortable by fixing your hair.”

Bucky can't help but giggle softly. "Why would you apologize for that? That was very thoughtful, thanks."

His giggle catches you off guard. “I thought… I crossed a boundary.”

"No, not at all. Sorry for the boring conversations."

“It wasn’t that boring. I actually learned a couple of things.”

Bucky smiles. "Did you? Not surprised, you're a businesswoman after all."

“I try to be.” You smile back even though you are feeling kinda sad that your time with him is about to end.

"I think you have a big potential. You control your emotions very well. You are smart and know how to enjoy good wine." He gives you a playful but innocent wink as he says the last part.

“And now I know you, so I can ask for business advice.” You repeat Michael’s words very poorly.

Bucky nods. "Of course. And you know maybe I can help... with a donation."

“A donation?” You really didn’t mean to sound that offended, but you are.

He frowns. "Yeah, I really think you got potential in business and it's hard when no one helps you."

Talking about money always bothers you. Getting paid for going out with someone already feels wrong enough, but the way he walks about it makes you feel worse. 

“Can we…. not… talk about this?” Your discomfort is much more clear in your voice than you realize.

"I-Of course, sorry if I bothered you," he immediately says apologetically.

“Talking about money like this bothers me and… just to be clear, I don’t want any help.”

"I understand. I wasn't trying to intrude."

You offer him a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

"I'm really so-"

"Is this the right address?" The driver interrupts Bucky all of a sudden.

“Yeah, it is.” Your answer comes instantly.

"Perfect."

“Thank you…” You stop for a minute realizing you don’t know his name. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name before.”

"Noah."

“Thank you, Noah.” Then you turn to Bucky. “And thank you for tonight, Bucky.”

"Thank you." You give him one more smile before opening the door. "Wait."

“What?”

"Are you free on 18?"

“I… think so. Why?”

"I have a proposal for you."

*

As the 18th comes closer, you get more worried about what to wear. You used your fanciest dress at that event and now your options are pretty limited. You search your closet and try to think of a friend who would let you borrow a dress. That’s when you finally see that simple black dress. That might work. When you put it on, your feelings are conflicted, though. It looks good on you, but it doesn’t seem good enough. You are not completely sure about how fancy this event is. Maybe… maybe you can ask him. 

< Hey. Sorry to bother you but how fancy is this event?

> Hey, no bother. Like the one we attended.

> Why?

< I’m not sure about my dress. Is it okay if I show it to you? I don’t wanna be underdressed.

> I am sure that's impossible but of course.

You send a mirror selfie, showing your dress.

>You look very beautiful.

>The dress is absolutely amazing too, but it's a black-tie event. Would you consider me disrespectful if I sent my stylist to you?

< Thank you. 

< No, of course not. I need help. I would appreciate it.

> Gonna send Lila a message and then I'll give her your number if that's okay.

< That’s perfectly okay. Thank you and again sorry to bother you with something like this.

> You don't bother me.

> I mean it.

< I know you are busy. That’s what I meant.

> Well, I am sure you are very busy yourself.

> How is the bakery and how was the meeting?

< I’m done working for the day. So I get to worry about the dress I’m gonna wear.

< The meeting went well but I didn’t hear anything from them yet.

> I hope it was a full day.

> I mean with many clients.

> And I hope they will give you a call.

< It was a tiring day. How was yours?

> Tiring, but productive, thank you for asking.

> Lila will call you in two minutes. She's a nice person. She manages to make me look decent every time.

< You look more than decent and I don’t think it’s all her doing.

5 minutes later

< Talked to Lila. We go shopping tomorrow. Thanks again for the help.

> Don't thank me for that. My pleasure. Have a good evening.

< You too.

The next day, you meet Lila and go shopping together like you agreed. She seems like a fun person and definitely understands your style. Her suggestions are great. but the only problem is the cost When you notice the price tags, you want to leave, but she assures you that it is all taken care of. That’s when you realize Bucky Barnes is paying for this shopping trip. You feel dumb for not thinking about this while talking to him. That’s why he was guarded when he offered help. That usually restlessness creeps up on you because you don’t want his help like this, but Lila convinces you that he is the reason you need new dresses anyway. And it is true. He is dressing you so you look the part. That eases your anxiety and finally, you are able to enjoy your dress hunt. When you come back home, you are completely exhausted but ready for any event he might want to take you. 

*

> Hi

> How are you?

< I’m good, getting ready. How are you?

> I am good too.

> I was wondering if you mind me picking you up...

< You wanna pick me up?

> Yes. I might need your address again, though.

< Noah doesn’t remember?

< I am picking you up.

Oh.

> You should say no if you don't want that.

< No, why wouldn’t I? I just didn’t think you would come without your driver for some reason.

> Do you want me to come with Noah?

> I can.

< I don’t need someone extra to feel comfortable around you, Bucky. 

< It’s up to you. Whatever you wanna do, I will be fine with it.

> Perfect 🙂

> 7:30 or 8? We should totally skip half an hour.

> So boring

< That emoji makes me feel like I did something wrong and you are being kind.

< Both are fine by me.

> See you at 8 then 😁

> Since you hate the other emoji

< Oh this one is much better.

< See you at 8. Leave your overthinking hat at home.

You quickly send him your address.

> Thank you

*

The evening comes even quicker than you expected. He picks you up alone and you have a great conversation on your way to the event. He gives you some pointers about it and the people you will most likely have to talk to and warns you that it’s gonna be boring. And he is right. It is even more boring than the first one. A lot of speeches and conversations with people you don’t know. You try to stay composed and play your part, trying to hide the fact that you are bored as fuck. Bucky comes to your rescue with a fun game. He makes funny comments and on-point jokes before and/or after you talk to someone. His observation skills are extraordinary. He notices stuff that you wouldn’t normally remark. Like a missing wedding ring, so he knows not the mention their spouse during their conversation. He whispers into your ear and makes you laugh the whole night. Hearing his voice that close, and feeling his breath on your neck drives you crazy. Does he know the effect he has on you? Is he doing it on purpose or is he just trying to pass the time as pleasantly as possible? You don’t know. Just like the first event, you leave a little bit early. He drives you back home, offers you a warm smile, and mentions when the next event will take place. You just nod in agreement, already looking forward to it.

*

> Friends or The Office?

> Also hi

< The Office. Love how intentionally awkward it is.

< Hiii back.

> How are you?

> Let me guess who you like the most

> Is he tall?

< Yeah genius, it’s Jim.

< I’m good, how are you?

> I knew you have taste.

> I am good. Now even better.

< Why better?

< Also who else could I like? He’s the only sane person in that office.

> Because I talk to you.

> So true.

He’s feeling better because he’s talking to you. God, that makes your blood rush.

< I like talking to you, too.

< Okay I have a question. What do you think of Karen?

> Karen? Don't make me be a hater while texting.

> It would never end.

> You?

< You know the word hater? I’m impressed.

< I don’t like her either. She tried too hard to make things work.

> I am 34, not 304!

> I feel offended

< It’s so easy to tease you.

> She is boring and annoying. More annoying than that douchebag.

< You mean Roy?

> Yeah

> That punching scene though

< God, that guy is a walking red flag. 

< Pam was truly blind.

> She was. Sad...

< Favorite season?

> Hard.

> Very hard.

> Maybe 4.

> Yours?

< Either 4 or 6.

> Tastee

< You are starting to sound like me 

> Well, I am older, so it's the other way around

< Sure old man. Whatever you say 

> Old but handsome, to quote you

< I can’t be held responsible for the things I say when I’m tipsy.

> Excusess

< Shh you are exposing me too much

As time passes, your conversations become friendlier. You don’t feel like this is something you have to do just to keep your business going. It feels like you two enjoy each other’s company. It feels like flirting. Yet you are not sure if that’s how he feels about all this, too. 

> Hi. Are you home?

< Yeah?

> in a few minutes you might have a delivery

< A delivery? 

< Bucky what did you buy this time?

> I can sense a tone

< Can you?

> A bratty tone.

> You'll see when it comes.

Just a few minutes later you open the door and see a huge bouquet of flowers.

< Jesus Bucky!

< These are so pretty!

< Thank youu.

> No complaining, huh?

> Glad you like them.

> I can complain if that’s what you want.

> I want you to be good and put them in a vase.

< They are already in a vase, sir.

You send a photo of the flowers in your prettiest vase.

> Great.

< I can’t stop smelling them.

> Noted

< I’ve got something to show you. Well two things because I can’t decide.

> Waiting

You send two mirror selfies in two different dresses. The first one is a black dress with a high slit on the right side. The other one is a simple pastel pink dress but the cleavage is on display a little.

< Which one should I wear for the next event?

> You think I am the right person to choose?

< I am your date, aren’t I?

> They both look great.

> Depends on what you want.

< That’s what I think too!

< And that’s why I can’t decide.

< Please help me out.

> Pink?

< Pink it is.

< Thank you.

*

What you didn't expect from this arrangement is how your attachment grows more and more every time you see Bucky. He makes it hard not to miss him with his smile and his jokes, the way he tries to integrate you and always asks how you feel. Truth be told, you're not even professional anymore and you catch yourself wanting to make a move on him every time he compliments you. But you can't, so you're forced to wait for him to do it. And you really hope he will.

*

You probably put too much faith in a rich person because when you see your notification from the banking app, you have to refrain from making a scene. You check twice just to be sure. For some reason, you are paid double the amount for this date and it’s not because he missed any previous payments. No, he just decided to pay you more the moment you started to grow closer.

When you look at him, he immediately catches something's wrong and leans in to whisper. 

"What happened?"

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Because you know if you do, your whole act will be exposed.

Bucky nods and looks at the rest of the table. "We're gonna head back home now. It was really nice to see you."

His reaction surprises you. You have the whole night ahead of us and he already paid you double. Why does he want to leave already?

"Of course. Have a good evening!"

“Oh, are you really leaving this early?” Someone else asks.

"Yes. We have plans for tomorrow pretty early in the morning."

“Ah! Too bad. Still, it was nice seeing you two.”

You both nod before you make your way to the door. You absently watch him asking for both of your coats and holding the door for you.

The way he’s acting like everything is fine infuriates you more. You really hoped something was going to happen between you two. It felt like you were headed in that direction, but you are not so sure anymore. Maybe he never saw it that way. Maybe he was thinking the worst of you and he’s just paying you more for everything he considers extra. It makes you feel nauseous.

"I should have made them change the plate…  Do you have an allergic reaction?"

“Yeah, I am having an allergy reaction.” You lash out as soon as you feel safe to react. “An allergic reaction to you trying to buy everything.”

"What?" He looks at you so confused as if he didn't double paid you a moment ago.

“Tell me it’s just a mistake and you didn’t do it on purpose.”

"Do what? Pay you?"

Oh… He did it on purpose. And just like that the last hope you were hanging on vanishes. 

“Yeah, pay me double just as we were getting closer. Is that all I am to you?” 

"All you are to me?" He repeats shocked.

“Someone you can pay for whatever you want.” You don’t wait for an answer. You just keep going. “Of course, that’s all I am. What else can I be? It’s my fault for accepting this… deal. I put myself in this position. Why would you see me as someone other than a hooker.”

"Stop!" He screams back but not as loudly as you do. "What are you saying? What the actual fuck? When did I even imply that? Paying you double has nothing to do with disrespecting you! Contrary!"

“You don’t have to say it! The moment we started to get closer, you decided to pay me double. I don’t need to be Einstein to put 2 and 2 together.”

He scrunches his nose. "How about us getting closer and me wanting to help you, huh? Did that ever cross your mind? Me wanting to help you pay your debt faster, knowing the effort you make to accompany me to these," he gestures to the place behind you. "But no, of course, you didn't because you think the lowest of me. That I would believe I can buy you and your affection!" 

“Help me?” He must be joking. “When I specifically told you I don’t want help!”

"I just don't want you to struggle. Is it so bad?" His voice is soft now while he stares at you, trying to show you he's entirely honest 

“Have you ever stopped for a second and thought how getting help would make me feel? I’ll tell you. It makes me feel like a failure.”

"You're not a failure. And getting help doesn't make anything you did and do less important, especially since it's small. Please..." he sighs. "Let's continue talking in the car at least, it's freezing. You shouldn't get sick."

“Fine. I will get in, but this… this conversation is not over.” He’s right. It’s freezing and you can’t take it anymore.

He nods gratefully and opens the door for you, which you close with force.

As soon as he gets in the car and starts the engine, he turns on the ac, giving you a look. You keep taking deep breaths and avoid looking at him.

"Please... do you really think that low of me?"

"I don't know what to think anymore." You finally look back at him. "Are you gonna drive or are we gonna have this conversation here?"

"I don't want to drive you home upset. I want to talk about it..."

You stop for a second, consider your options. You can't have this conversation in a public place. "Your place or mine?"

*

Money is clearly not an issue for him so he probably didn't even blink to pay you double you realize as you get inside the house. You try not to look around too curiously. Your image in his eye is already as bad as it could get.

"How low do you think of me?" He repeats the same question while he starts to take off his shoes.

“I should be asking you that question.”

"You're the one who thinks I tried to buy you as a hooker."

“What were you trying to do then if not buying my affection? And don’t tell me helping!”

"To help."

“I don’t want help!” You don’t notice how loud you are. “I don’t want anyone’s help! I have to do this on my own. Is that so hard to understand?”

"Yes and no." He sighs. "I get this drive, I had it too, but I wish you could try to see... that you don't have to do this alone. But instead, you think I see you as someone buyable." 

“Imagine when you started your business and had debt, someone had the means to help you, just give you money like it’s nothing and you don’t get to pay it back. Would you accept it? Would you think it’s your success if someone helped you out like that? Just be honest and answer.”

"Fuck no." He sighs. "But you deserve the money. And you put up with the events and your business..."

“Fuck no indeed. I want to do this myself. I have to prove myself I’m not a failure like my-” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence.

"What? Like what?"

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to prove that to myself, okay?”

"How could you think you are failing when you already did so much?

“As long as this business doesn’t succeed, whatever I’ve done so far does not matter. Only the result matters.” You don’t notice you are repeating your father’s words.

"That is bullshit. You think success is based on wins only?"

“It doesn’t feel like winning when you are worried about paying the next month's salaries.”

"That's a worry that honestly doesn't stop. Or at least not for me. Success means failure and worries sometimes. Success means trying and holding on."

“I’m not here to have a conversation about what you view as success, Bucky. I’m here because I’m mad at you.”

"You're mad at me, but you think I am an awful person." He starts taking off his jacket.

“I’m mad at you because you can’t pay me double just because you want to. That’s not how real life works.” 

"Oh, really?" He smiles sarcastically. "I should totally give zero shits about you worrying about paying salaries and having student debt. Totally real-life fun stuff."

“Student debt? How do you even know about that?”

"You mentioned it."

“I don’t remember mentioning my student debt to you.”

He puffs, not breaking eye contact. "I have ears."

“You heard me mentioning my student debt and decided to pay me double?” He’s unbelievable.

"Yes."

“Do you have any idea how much you were paying me before?”

Bucky blushes embarrassed and strokes his beard. "No..."

“You were already paying me nearly a monthly salary. Just for going on a date with you once a week. Do you have any idea how it made me feel seeing that double payment in my account while I was hoping for…”

"Fuck, I want to say I am sorry, but I am not. I am not buying you, no matter how low you think of me. I want to help you. I thought we are already friends."

“Friends.” You give him a bitter smile. “Friends don’t pay each other.”

"Friends help each other." He is getting closer to you.

“Not without the other one asking for help.”

"You're impossible." He sighs. "You can pay me back at some point." He is so serious.

“Which point will that be?”

"Whenever you won't be worried about salaries."

“You said it yourself, that time never comes.”

"Please, doll." He closes his eyes, not even realizing what he said.

“Please what?”

"Can we just stop fighting?"

“We can if you stop paying me.”

"It's your money. You come with me every time. This event was more boring than usual... consider this a bonus for putting up with it and me." 

“I don’t want- I don’t need that.”

"Why not? It's just for now." He seems upset. "Do you want nothing to do with me anymore?"

“I don’t need money to… enjoy my evening with you. I was actually hoping for you to… you know… stop paying me soon.”

"You want to end this?" He doesn't even try to hide his disappointment. His voice starts trembling.

“I want to end the payments.”

"So no more events..."

“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t want you to pay me for that anymore.”

"Oh." Bucky thinks a little. "You want to come to meet more people?" 

“Dear god… You are so dense for a smart businessman sometimes!”

"You are calling me dumb."

“Yeah, because you are being dumb or just acting dumb, I don’t know anymore. You can call me if you want me to accompany you as your friend… or date, okay? It’s up to you now.” You reach for your stuff to leave his place.

"I just want to know why you'd find it so bad for me to pay you. Would you not pay me?"

“Don’t you really see the implication?”

"What implication? Tell me what you think."

“Would you pay me if we had sex?”

He freezes, completely taken aback. "What?"

“You heard what I said. Would you love me like you paid me, too?”

"You want to fuck me?" He asks unsure. As if he doesn’t know if he heard you right.

“Do you need things spelled out for you like this?”

"Do you mean it?"

“I have already said too much, Bucky. I think it’s better if I go.”

He grabs your hand when you turn toward the door. "I don't think you said enough."

“You want me to embarrass myself more?” He rolls his eyes. “I think I have made myself clear enough. Time for me to leave.”

"Come on." He smiles. "You didn't say anything."

You let a frustrated breath out. “Take care, Bucky.”

"Doll, please. You can't leave in the middle of a conversation like this!"

“Of course, I can leave. What else is there to talk about?”

"You asked if I'd pay you for sex."

“And I think I got my answer.”

"No, I would not pay you for sex."

“Because you didn’t even consider that option.”

He puffs, and you notice sweat drops on his neck. "Why did you even ask that? I already said I do not consider you buyable." 

He is very close now, holding both of your hands and staring into your soul.

“Because that’s how I feel every time you pay me to spend time with you.”

"God, doll. You are really fucking impossible. You think I don't want to kiss you or fuck you? I think about it all the goddamn time if I let myself, but we had an arrangement..."

“And that’s why I wanna end the arrangement.”

"Done." His answer is instant.

“So you can take me out on a normal date, maybe.”

"Yeah?" He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop both: your coat and bag. But you don’t look down even when they hit the floor. 

“If you want…” You feel your voice suddenly getting smaller.

"May I kiss you?"

“Only if you aren’t gonna ask permission for everything.”

He snorts. "Just answer." 

“You may.”

He does, moving a hand to your chin as he immediately tries to deepen the kiss. The way he kisses you takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to start this kiss so strongly, but you definitely aren’t complaining. His other hand goes from your waist to your ass, grabbing it over your pants. You gasp in surprise, which interrupts the kiss.

He smiles. "Hi."

“Hi.” You try to catch your breath while he starts to kiss down your neck without warning. Your right hand trails up from his neck to his hair as you let out a low moan.

"Fuck." He starts sucking on a spot below your collarbone.

“Jesus, Bucky…” You try to sound as normal as possible. “Take a girl out to dinner first.”

"You want dinner?"

“Well, not right now.” 

"What do you want right now?" 

“Just keep doing what you were doing.”

He kisses you so sloppily, his hands going under your shirt without realizing. You wrap your hands around his neck and close the remaining distance between your bodies.

"Fuck, you taste so good."

“Maybe it’s the lipstick.” You joke and without letting him answer, you start to kiss him again, immediately using your tongue. He moans in the middle of the kiss and then opens his mouth a little further, inviting you in. Your hands go to the buttons of his shirt.

"Oh, fuck."

“Can I take this off?” You ask for permission the way he did before.

"Please." He is breathing slowly, looking at your hands

You take your time unbuttoning the shirt, testing his patience.

"Doll, please." His mouth finds your neck.

“Please what?”

"Faster."

“That part comes later,” You say with a suggestive tone and he snorts, leaving another kiss on your neck.

"Left you a few pretty marks." 

“Maybe I should give you some too.”

"Later." When you finally finish unbuttoning, he takes it off in a heartbeat. "Hope you won't hate me."

“For what?” He simply rips your shirt in half in response. “Bucky!” His hands grab your bra while you are still talking. “That was an expensive top!” 

"Was." He just rips off the bra, too. "Just like this was on you. Past tense.”

"Do not!" You lift your finger. "Rip off anything else!"

He bites that finger without hesitation, sucking in it further. You try to take your finger back. 

“Jesus Bucky, how am I gonna go back home now?”

"What? You want to go home?"

“I have to go home eventually, you know.”

"I have clothes, you know?" He starts to take off your belt. "Pants too." You can see he wants to get rid of them too.

“You want me to leave your house in your clothes?”

He kisses her. "What?"

You take a deep, annoyed breath. “Fine, I will worry about this later.”

"May I rip these too?"

“No. No more ripping, please.”

"Alright," he says disappointed but lets you take off your pants while he’s simply staring at your breasts.

“At least I have this to wear while going back home,” you say, swinging your underwear.

"You talk so much about leaving."

“Hmm, do I?”

"Yeah." He's obviously trying not to show he's upset, but he's failing. And this makes you happy… the fact he doesn’t want you to leave.

“Does it bother you?”

"No," he whispers and looks at his own pants. "I can just make you feel good, you know? No rush, then I'll drive you home as you want."

You reach for his pants and start to unbuckle it. “I have a mind that… keeps on worrying. I think about stuff I have to do later constantly, but there’s a way to turn it off. At least for a while.”

He tries to stop you. "I can make you feel good, drive you home and take you on a date tomorrow." 

You finally understand what he actually means. “What? No. That’s not what I want.”

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure you understand we can stop like any time."

“Oh, I know. I just don’t want to.”

"Okay." He smiles and lets his hands fall down.

“I feel like you are tiptoeing around me. Where’s that Bucky I see at these boring events every week?”

"He's here, just trying to do everything right. But I don't know what you mean by that Bucky."

"I mean that Bucky who doesn't hesitate."

"This is different though. I don't want you to think I am a douche, you know?" He sighs. "I don't want you uncomfortable."

"Your hesitation gives me anxiety. And I know you by now. You don't need to worry about that." You push his pants down and they pool around his ankles. Impatiently, he takes off his boxers himself and steps out of them.

"Alright then. Should we move to the bedroom?"

But you are too busy to finally look at him, all naked, to hear him. He looks better than you anticipated and that makes you even more eager to touch him.

He tries not to smile, but it's hard.

“Uhm… what?”

"Nothing, nothing. Keep going."

“Okay.” You move closer and start kissing him again. You grab him gently yet firmly and start moving your hand slowly, just to get him used to the feeling.

"Fuck." He moans against your lips. "Feels good."

You gently bite his lower lip while you keep moving your hand. It’s still slow, but you pay attention to grab his balls and brush against the tip, just to see his reactions

"Doll..."

“Hmm?” You stop kissing him and look into his eyes as you decide to kneel down.

"Doll, no." He groans. "Fuck, I really dreamed about this, but let's go to bed."

“If you dreamed about it, why are you saying no?”

"Because we can do something else fun for you too."

“Oh, believe me, this is fun.” You take your tongue out, swiping it on the shaft from the bottom to the top, making him moan immediately. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask, your lower lip touching the tip. He doesn't even seem to hear you.

“Hmm…” And that’s your answer. You take the tip into your mouth, gently licking. "Oh, shit," He moans and without thinking he wraps his hand around your ponytail.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, occasionally swiping on that sensitive spot that makes him moan really loudly. "Holy fuck." He's fully playing with your hair now. "Baby, please..." He doesn't seem to know what he's begginh for though.

“Hmm?” You silently ask while your tongue keeps working on him.

"We should... stop."

You take your mouth off him for a second, just enough to ask: “Why?” Then you take him right back inside your mouth.

"I'm gonna come," he says a little embarrassed.

He might have wanted you to stop because of that, but you have no intention of doing it. You want him to feel good, so you grab the shaft, moving it up and down while you take your mouth off for a few more seconds.

“Then come.” 

Your tongue goes back to the tip, moving in sync with your hand. He can't even ask you if he should pull out because he's already coming in your mouth. You keep moving your head and hand until he finally hisses because of overstimulation.

"Doll."

You look at him while swallowing. “Yeah?”

"Thank you so much, I'm just... fuck me," he groans at the sight in front of him. There is something absolutely sinful about you like this. "I am just really sensitive."

“That’s normal.” You kiss his cock really gently on a spot that wouldn’t cause any discomfort. He lets go of your hair and smiles. You quickly wipe away that line of come dripping down to your chin before he helps you stand up and kisses you hard. You are already unbelievably wet, but the way he uses his tongue takes it to another level. He lifts you in his arms when you least expect and a yelp leaves your lips.

"Gonna take you to the bedroom."

“Yeah, okay.” You wrap your legs around his torso, trying to hide your excitement.

"I'm gonna eat you, okay?" He opens the door with his leg.

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the throbbing between your legs.

"You want to ride my face, pretty doll? Or do you want me on my knees?"

“God…” You think for a second, both options being tempting. “On your knees.”

"You want me on my knees? Want me to beg to eat your pussy?"

“Would you?”

"Beg for it?" He puffs. "For you? Of course."

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

"Just Bucky." He puts you down on the bed and kneels. You laugh a little. His nervousness is definitely fading away. He smiles and starts kissing below your knee. "Please, can I eat you, baby?"

“Oh god… I wanna hear that again.”

"I am begging. Please, allow me." He kisses all the way up.

“It’s all yours.”

He makes the most animalistic sound you've heard from his mouth before and lifts both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Gonna let me do it over and over again?"

“I might wanna do different things in between, but yes…” That makes him smile.

"Thank you." Then he finally starts licking at your entrance.

The first moan you let out sounds like you are trying to catch your breath. Bucky's fingers dig into your thighs when he properly enters you with his tongue.

“Oh god...” That feels amazing. He says nothing, trying to move his tongue around for a little while testing what you like. You instinctively move your hips a little, forcing his tongue closer to your clit.

"Fuck." You barely hear him say as he properly moves his mouth to your clit.

“Yess!” You shake with excitement. Bucky starts to flick his tongue gently on your clit, bringing his hand to your entrance. You don’t realize how you are moving your hips to create more friction. And he adds the first finger inside you without stopping his tongue motion. 

“Ahh, yes.” It sounds like you have been waiting for this forever. His free hand goes up just to squeeze and massage each breast as he adds his second finger.

“Bucky, fuck!” It feels like he’s everywhere. His flicks turn into full licks while his fingers move faster.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna- come.” You can already feel your legs shaking. He continues the pace exactly like this and moans against your clit.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuckk. God, please- don’t stop. Please.” He doesn't stop, he couldn't even if he tried, eager to make you come.

After a few seconds, something snaps inside you and finally, you feel loose. Your whole body is shaking and you can’t get enough of the way he makes you feel. The movement of his tongue, the way his fingers move… And it doesn’t end quickly. No, he keeps going and you feel the same high over and over again until it’s too much to bear. You stop him by grabbing a handful of his hair.

“That was… incredible.” He smiles, raising his head enough for you to see how wet he is. “Jesus…” His beard is soaked. You had no idea you were that wet.

"Just Bucky." He repeats the same joke as he licks his lips.

“Your beard… it’s so wet.” You are too shocked to react to his joke.

"Wanna clean it for me?" He winks and god, he looks so charming.

“Come here.” You open your arms.

He hugs you immediately, his beard making contact directly with your breasts as he’s spreading your wetness all over them.

"Oops." He giggles. "Guess I have to clean up my mess."

You giggle, too. “You know you don’t need an excuse to suck my nipples, right?”

"What? This is not what I'm doing. I like to clean." 

And just like that, you feel Bucky's tongue all over your tits, making sure to avoid your nipples.

“Hmm… That feels good.” He bites a little the skin on your left breast, and you whine in response.

"Hurting?"

“A little.”

"Sorry, baby." He sucks a little around the bite as an apology.

"It's fine. Come here and gimme a kiss."

"No." He gets stubborn and he finally takes the first nipple into his mouth.

You grab his hair and force him away from your nipple. "You are so stubborn."

"You like pulling my hair."

"I was thinking about pulling it for a long time."

"Why didn't you?"

"Well, I touched it instead of pulling. On our first date." 

"Yes." He smiles giving you a small kiss. "Not enough."

“There’s no way I could pull your hair there, you know.”

"True. I would moan."

"You and me both." You giggle again.

"So you felt okay?"

"Okay?"

He smiles. "More than okay?"

"You have no idea how okay that was."

"Probably not. You get to feel pleasure in ways I never will."

"Poor you. We should totally try to change that."

He snorts. "You want to suck me again? Or do you want to fuck me?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Yeah?" He kisses your cheeks. "That's easy."

"Yeah?" Your hips move a little, rubbing against his erection. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Gonna be right back." He tries to get up, but you stop him.

"Condom?"

"Yep. Any preference?" 

"Yeah, none if possible."

Bucky looks at you confused. "What?” He thinks maybe you meant the flavor. “I can find one without it." 

"I meant no condom because I'm on the pill, so it's up to you."

"You sure?" You aren’t sure if he’s excited or surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be? As long as you are clean."

"Want me to bring my blood tests?"

You laugh a little because you know he means it and you couldn’t help but imagine him dutifully showing you the papers. "I will take your word for it, Mr. Barnes."

"Mr Barnes?" He repeats amused as he spreads your legs properly. "Are you gonna call me that when I come inside you, too?"

"Mr. Barnes sounds too formal for that. Gotta find something else for that moment."

He grabs and positions himself at your entrance. "I'm sure you're creative."

You push your hips impatiently. "I will find something fitting."

He enters you without waiting, but he's careful not to hurt you so he stops for a little. You throw your head back because of the way you feel with his cock inside you. A lower, nearly animalistic moan escapes your lips. 

"Oh god."

"Please move."

He kisses you gently as he finally starts to thrust slowly. You are so wet that he's moving so smoothly, dragging your walls every time he pulls back and then filling you up all over again.

"Aren't you a wet little doll?" He shifts his weight on his elbows that he places on both sides of your head.

"I’m so unbelievably wet." 

"Perfect." He buries his head into your neck and starts to move faster.

“I have been… imagining how… this would feel.”

"Did you dream about it?" He doesn’t miss the chance to ask that.

“Once.”

"Only once?" He tries not to sound disappointed, but he fails.

“Yeah, and I was surprised because I don’t dream about sex.”

"How?" He starts sucking harder.

“Ahh.” You moan softly. “During one of those fancy events.”

"Fuck." He lifts his head to look at you. "Did you dream of me fucking you in the closet? Or the baby changing room?"

“In a dark closet. Suddenly you are all over me.”

"Fucking you from behind? Or holding my baby?"

“You were holding me and- ahh. I was trying to- stay quiet. But- you kept fucking me- harder.” His hips move so fast now you can barely speak. 

"Did you scream?"

“I was about to, but I woke up suddenly.”

"Fuck." He groans. "The worst. Did you finish the job?"

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I was so fucking wet.”

"Just...." He closes his eyes. "I'm imagining you using your little fingers under your panties to play with your clit- Shit."

“And it wasn’t enough.”

"No? Poor baby." He leans in to bite your bottom lip for a few seconds.

“It was frustrating.” You moan when he moves his hips a little harder. “Nowhere near… this.”

"Nothing like my cock? Like us?"

“Nuh-huh.”

"God, can't wait to come inside you... to see you dripping."

“Shit, Bucky. You can’t just say things like that.” It makes you clench hard. You need to come. Now.

"Why not? So fucking hot." His thrusts slow down but become deeper at the same time. "Dripping down your thighs. Gonna clean that up for you and share it." He curses. "Gonna pass you my come in a kiss."

“Oh fuck.” His words, the image just pushes you over that edge. “I’m coming. Oh fuck, please don’t come. Not yet. Please.”

"Why not? Do you want me to pull out?" He teases.

“I need one more.” You say while shaking hard. “Just one more.”

"I'm right here," he whispers assuringly. “I'm inside you, not going anywhere. I dreamed about you too." He pauses to curse. "Fuck, I was fucking my bed."

“Tell me… tell me about it.” The orgasm keeps washing you in waves. Over and over again until it fades away.

"You were in my office at work. Came to talk about a gala or we were leaving from there, I don’t know. And we just... we were suddenly kissing and I was ripping off your dress. And I was simply fucking you all over the desk."

“How did it feel?”

"Not even close to this, but it was good. So good. I almost came in my sleep."

“You didn’t come?” You finally feel like your breath is going back to normal. 

"I stroked myself after I woke up and came. A lot."

“Made a big mess because of me?”

"Mhm." He brings his fingers to your lips. "And you weren't there to help me." 

“I’m here now.”

"Gonna help me this time?" His index finger plays with her bottom lip.

“Oh, I will.” You bite his finger gently. “And no mess this time. I’m here to take every drop of your come.”

"You sure you can?" He teases. "What if it's too much?"

“It’s all mine. I don’t care if it’s too much.”

"I'm all yours."

“Oh, Bucky.” You feel like you are melting. You kiss him on the lips passionately. “I’m all yours, too.”

"Yeah?" He smiles and starts thrusting faster. "Aren't you a pretty little doll? All mine, ready to take my come."

“Yours.” You repeat and that familiar pleasure starts to build up again, but you want to try something else. Something you have been imagining. “Can you… flip me over?”

"Sure," he answers a little surprised, and helps you move.

“I have been imagining how this would feel.”

"Thought you did it only once." 

“You know dreaming and imagining are different things, right?” You tease him. You can’t see his expression, but you know he made a face right after hearing your words.

"How many times did you imagine it?'

“Oh, who knows? A lot of times.”

"Tell me what did you imagine when we were like this." He squeezes your hips, so turned on to see your on all fours.

“You fucking me hard.”

"How hard?" He teases leaning in to kiss your back.

“As hard as you can.”

As soon as he starts to properly thrust inside you, a few gasps and whimpers leave his mouth. The positions opens you up in a different way. 

"God, this is... fuck me."

“Yeah, I would say- the same.” It’s hard to speak when he is pounding you like this.

"You're making such a mess on the bed, baby. Around my cock. God, so fucking wet."

“Should I apologize for the mess?” You ask cheekily because he seems so gone.

"You should." He squeezes your ass. "By making a bigger mess."

“I think- that’s- possible.”

"Yeah?" He fucks you even harder, properly using his knees and your hips. "You gonna come?" 

“Yeah! Please!”

"Please what?" 

“Please, daddy.” The words leave your lips before your mind can register them.

"Holy fuck, what did you just say?" He barely manages to keep going, just slowing down. He looks at you as if he doesn't know if he imagined something, and that's how you  realize what you said.

“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” You start to panic.

"Hey, baby." His voice is soft, assuring. "What are you sorry for?"

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just… thinking that.”

"God, baby." He tries to turn your head to look into your eyes by grabbing your chin and titling it up. "You think of me as your daddy?"

“Is it bad if I do?”

"Yeah, it's bad because I can come any second when you call me that." He kisses your forehead. "Be a good girl for daddy and try to come, okay?"

“God, Bucky.” You moan because of his words. You’ve imagine this, indeed, a lot of times, but hearing it? It’s something that can’t be described.

He pulls your hair. "Daddy."

“Oh, fuck.” It turns you on even more and you don’t know how that’s even possible. “Yes, daddy.”

"Did you imagine this, too?" He is leaving you breathless with the way he is pounding you, yet he still demands an answer. "Did you imagine calling me daddy while I fuck you like this?" 

“Yes.” You are so close to coming. So close that you can taste it. “I did- so many times.”

One of his hands finds your right breast and sqeezes. "Please, come for daddy. Gonna be a good girl and come?"

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuckk, I’m coming!” The way your orgasm hits you makes you lose the last drop of control you had over your body. You can’t think of anything beside Bucky and how good he’s making you feel. His pace quickens for a second before he comes. He doesn't manage to warn you he's coming too, but he doesn't have to. His moan and the feeling of his come are enough.

He keeps it going until both of you finish and when you do, the only thing that you can hear is your loud breaths. Then you feel a trail of kisses all over your back.

“Oh my god,” you finally manage to speak.

"Just Bucky." He reaches your neck. "Or daddy."

You laugh. “God, you are so smug.”

"Smug?" He smiles and pokes your skin with his tongue. 

You turn around, finally fully facing him. “Yeah, daddy is real smug.” It feels so good to be able to call him that without worrying about anything else.

"Thank you."

“Who knew Bucky Barnes had a daddy kink?” You can’t help but say. 

"Not Bucky Barnes himself." He snorts.

“You just found out?”

"Yeah." He burst into laughter a bit embarrassed. He’s never thought about being called daddy before, especially not in bed, but with you? With you, it just makes sense. It feels hot.

“Oh god, I am so lucky.”

"Did you always have a daddy kink?"

“I didn’t even know I had one before meeting you.”

Bucky's smile is so big. "Fuck, I am the lucky one." He kisses you properly now, immediately trying to open your mouth by licking your bottom lip. 

“I thought I would freak you out, but look at you, fully embracing it.” 

"How could I not?"

“You liked it that much, daddy?” You wrap your arms around his neck playfully.

"God, I did. You're so hot when you say it. And the way you looked at me."

“How did I look at you?”

"Can't even explain it... I just wanna see that over and over again.”

“Well, you can.”

He scrunches his nose in the most adorable way possible. "Thank you."

“For what?”

"For everything. And for wanting me."

You frown because of that last part. “What does that even mean?” 

"Boring older man."

“Handsome older man, who I have been fantasizing about for a while.”

He giggles shily. "You make me sound like a dirty dream."

“Well, it’s because you are.”

"You are mine too."

“Lucky us.”

"You might never get rid off me." He kisses your forehead.

“I might be okay with that.”

*

It has been a while since you started to date Bucky. After that night, everything slowly started to fall into place. You found a great balance between your lives and your relationship, always making time for each other. You spend a lot of nights at his place. It doesn’t feel like his anymore, it feels like you are living together. Everything is so natural. 

“I just got the most unexpected call ever,” you say, still feeling fairly surprised by the job you got offered.

"What was it about?" Bucky is still in bed, surprisingly. He's usually the first the get up and go to the kitchen in the morning.

“Mrs. Moore called me to ask me if my bakery could do the catering for their next event.”

"Oh my god. That’s amazing."

“It is! But I am not sure if I can actually do it.”

Bucky frowns and immediately taps on the bed. "Come here."

You listen to him and continue talking while moving closer. “I haven’t given her the final answer yet, I acted like I need to check in to see if we are available, but the more I think about it, the more I notice how hard it would be.”

"I am gonna say something, but I don't think you'll like it."

“You will say you can help me out.”

"Yep." He gives you the biggest smile. "But it doesn't take away anything from your success or your efforts, okay? Just hear me out."

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.” You have been warming up to the idea of him helping you. Maybe not financially, but he has been helping you. He has the best ideas and a great perspective. So you won’t say no to hearing him out.

He reaches to hold your hand. 

"Let me take care of the transport and hire the extra stuff who can serve at the party. I'll call a friend." He pauses. "Just this once, okay? You can curse me out later, bit let me help so you can get more jobs in the future. This is a great opportunity."

“How did you even know I needed help with transport?”

"Baby," Bucky giggles at your confused pouty face. "It's a first experience. You don't have employees for this and it's a big party." Then he shurgs, like it wasn’t that hard to guess.

“Transport, service staff, and extra place to store the food. These are the problems I need to solve if I wanna do this.” You list the things you need to be able to take this job.

"Is that a yes?"

“That’s an I am considering it.”

In response, he simply raises on his knees and kisses you, with his hands on your neck. "Good girl."

“I didn’t say yes yet!”

"Ihm."

“If you assume I will say yes, it’s definitely gonna be a no.”

"No, I am very, very, very fucking horny right now."

“Just because I might say yes to your offer for help?”

Bucky blushes. "It's very hot. And I'm so hard..."

“Jesus… You really want a sugar baby, don’t you?” He must have. He loves the idea of taking care of your every need. That would explain why.

"I just like doing this for you."

“Do you like being useful or do you like spoiling?” You insist. You want him to say it.

He makes a sound from the back of his throat. "Can we just focus on you?"

“No, please… Tell me why exactly this turns you on.”

"I don't know." You see the sides of his neck getting red.

“But I wanna know.”

"Please, just..."

“Gimme an answer and I will give you one back.”

He takes a deep breath but doesn't look at you. "I just love spoiling you even though you don't let me."

You smile. “I might let you a little bit.”

"Just..." He sighs embarrassed. "Just ignore me, okay?"

“This is me… saying yes.” You spell it out for him.

"For my help?" He finally looks at you.

“Yeah.”

"Wow.” He sounds completely surprised. “This is... great." He tries to keep his emotions under control. "Then go ahead and uhm, call Moore back as I send a few messages, okay?"

“She can wait a little bit longer.” You gently grab his erection. He has gotten really excited just because you let him help you. It’s just unbelievable yet you love it. You love that he cares about you this much. “I need to take care of daddy first.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #dilf!bucky barnes #daddy!bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dilf!bucky #bucky barnes x reader smut #businessman!bucky barnes #millionaire!bucky barnes #billionaire!bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #rich!bucky barnes #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my stories #my fanfics #co written with marvelouslizzie

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #nico hischier #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk #mackie samoskevich

[lizslibrary]

Mirror

Summary: Reader is Bucky's next-door neighbor when they hear him having a nightmare. Reader helps him see his reflection in the mirror and reminds him that his scars are beautiful because they are proof that he survived.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support on my last story, It gave me the courage to write a second one. The last fic I wrote was done in the first person so I thought I would try my hand in second person to see how it goes. Please let me know of any compliments or criticism that you have, it would really help a lot! 🤍

Warnings: Nightmare, PTSD, Bucky being insecure, self-deprivation (Bucky,) Crying, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1339.

__________________________________

You awoke to the sound of screaming from across the hall, it didn't take long to figure out Bucky was having another nightmare. You prop yourself up on one elbow, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to being awake. Forcing yourself out of your bed, you open your door and step into the dimly lit hallway of your apartment building. You gently raise your fist and knock on Bucky's apartment door, hoping he'll answer.

Not long after, the door creaks open and Bucky stands in the doorway looking disheveled and tired. He was wearing loose sweatpants, and his skin was gleaming with sweat. his eyes reddened and brimmed with tears yet to be spilled. You stare at him for a moment noticing how his long hair is sticking to the sides of his face, and how there were dark smudges under each eye.

"Bucky?" You say softly, almost as if he was a bomb waiting to detonate. "Can I come in?"

Bucky nods quietly, holding the door open a little wider. I look around noticing how messy his apartment is. Pillows and blankets were on the ground, and his boots were on two separate sides of the room, one leaning against the TV stand, while the other was in the corner. The only furniture in the room was a small, grey couch and a little coffee table that sat between the TV and the sofa.

Bucky stared at you silently, his eyes were dark. "I'm sorry I woke you." He said, his voice low and shaky.

You shook your head "Don't worry about it Bucky, it wasn't your fault." You say gently, sitting down on his couch and gesturing for him to sit next to you. "Are you okay?"

Bucky shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair "No" He says quietly, closing his eyes. "They won't stop, every time I try to sleep these nightmares keep coming back."

Your heart began to ache at the thought of Bucky suffering through these awful nightmares, night after night. You recall all the times when he would wake you up screaming, telling you how he had just dreamt about Hyrda, about how these visions of death and violence constantly haunt him.

"You don't deserve this Bucky." You say, observing the way he covered himself up with a blanket.

Bucky turned to face you "I'm a monster..." he said lowly. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Bucky closed his eyes tightly, and tears fell freely from his cheeks.

"No Bucky, you're not." You say, gently placing your hand over his shaking one. "Bucky, you've done nothing wrong, none of this is your fault."

He looked away from you, eyes falling to the floor "I know, but I still did it."

You sigh "Buck, listen to me." You say, keeping your voice gentle. "You were being brainwashed and manipulated. They made you do horrible things that you had no control over."

Bucky remained silent, letting out a deep breath before looking at you. "They ruined me Y/n, my body is filled with ugly scars." He said pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "When I go out in public little people, children even, are scared of my arm...It just reminds me of my past and what I've done." He says softly "Hydra ruined me."

You place your hand on his blanket-covered back slowly making circles with my fingernails. "Bucky, you are the kindest most handsome man I've ever met, your past does not define your present." You say, "You have gone out of your way to protect and take care of me even before we became close."

His cheeks tinted pink "Y/n...thank you." He whispered, taking a deep breath "But-"

You stop him "No buts Bucky." You say firmly "Can I show you the Bucky that I see?" You take his hand, pulling the blanket off his back, and leading him gently into the bathroom turning him so that he can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What do you see when you look at yourself?" You ask, keeping your voice soft.

Turning his head away from the mirror, Bucky swallowed hard. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he took a deep breath. "Scars..." He mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.

You nod, rubbing his back "Anything else?"

Bucky peers back to the mirror, his eyes landing on the scar tissue that connects his shoulder to his vibranium arm, he clenches his jaw and grips the sink tightly.

Your gaze is soft as you watch Bucky look at himself, with sorrow and pain. He doesn't reply as he turns away from the mirror, dropping his head in shame.

"Listen to me bucky..." You say, standing next to him in the mirror "Your scars are beautiful."

He glances up at you "How could they possibly be?" He asks, fighting back the tears that welled in his eyes.

You smile warmly "Because you fought your way out of hell, you persevered through torture and you lived; they are a reminder that you survived." You tell him, your eyes never leaving his. "You are the strongest, most beautiful man I have ever met." You say, turning to face him.

Bucky wipes his eyes quickly, inhaling sharply. He stares at you a moment before letting out a deep breath "Thank you..." He whispers, averting his eyes once more.

You squeeze his hand lightly "You don't have to thank me." You say softly. "You deserved to hear it."

Bucky stares down at you, his glossy eyes filled with gratitude, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug. You wrap your arms around him in return, feeling the tension seep from his body. He sniffles "I don't deserve you doll." He whispers, bringing his forehead to rest against your shoulder.

"No, you deserve more."

You weren't sure why, but you felt like you needed to be persistent in reminding him that he was worthy of love and affection, regardless of what happened in his past.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He breathes, bringing his hand up to your head and running his fingers through your hair.

With a contented sigh, you let your fingers glide over Bucky's skin, tracing his muscles and spine. He shudders under your touch, tightening his grip around your waist. He leans into you, his forehead resting on yours.

"It feels good to hold you." He murmurs, pushing his nose against your cheek.

You smile against his chest "That's sweet Bucky, feels good to hold you too" You murmur.

Bucky lets out a soft chuckle, a light tickle brushing against your ear. You reach up, running your hand through his silky hair, gently combing it out of his eyes. You tilt his head up so that his eyes meet your own.

"Are you ready to go back to bed?" You say, staring into his eyes. You could tell that he was tired, his pale blue eyes looking dull and heavy.

He nods slowly, resting his chin against your shoulder before pulling away and walking into his room "Yeah." He mutters.

You turn around, walking back into the bedroom. As you shut the door behind you, you hear Bucky sigh as he climbs onto his bed. You walk over to the bed and sit down, facing Bucky.

He closes his eyes and lets out a long exhale "Thanks for talking to me sweetheart...You didn't have to stay up this long." He says, his voice cracking slightly.

You run your fingers through his hair "Don't worry about it Bucky, I wanted to." You say, leaning forward and kissing his forehead "Goodnight."

Bucky stares at you, looking at you as if he is trying to memorize every feature.

"Y/n?" He asks barely audible.

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay here tonight?" He says, his voice hoarse.

A small smile appears as you walk to the other side of the bed and gently crawl under the covers. immediately, Warmth envelops you as you settle into the blankets. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat from Bucky's body beneath the blankets. You lean forward, bringing your lips to his temple.

"Goodnight Buck." You murmur.

"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he whispers softly, drawing you close to his chest as he drifts into the first peaceful sleep he has had in years.

#soft bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes comfort fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic