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arlana-likes-to-write · 8 months

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Eyes Closed by Ed Sheeran

Summary: Maria wasn't sure what to expect when she turned after being gone for 5 years. But she wasn't ready to learn that her wife is gone and her daughter is now 10 years old. But life goes on.

Warning: death of a major character (it's Natasha), grief, angst with a happy ending, Maria needs a hug, drinking, guilt, fluff

Word count: 4.0k

“Maria!” She heard her name called out and her body was moving before she realized what was happening. She was standing on the sidewalk, chest heaving and the sound of horns blaring.

“What the hell happened?” She asked Fury. There was a crowd forming around them. She hated the amount of eyes on her and the whispers. There were so many whispers.

‘Oh my god!’ ‘Are they back?’ ‘Can I borrow someone’s phone?’ ‘I can’t believe it!’ Before she could run up to a random citizen and demand what they were talking about, a portal opened and she shielded her eyes from the light.

“Maria Hill,” she didn’t know the man in front of her. “We need your help. The fat of the world depends on it.” Maria was not one to hesitate when the answer was to follow him, she never disobeyed a direct order. But she hesitated to join him. She needed to find her family.

“Hill,” she looked at Fury. “Go. I’ll find them.” Maria trusted that he would, she stood by his side enough times to believe him. With a nod, she stepped through the portal.

More portals opened around her as the rest of the Avengers appeared around her. She stood where the compound once stood facing an army. She took her gun from her belt. There were so many questions that raced through Maria’s head but two rang louder than the others - where was Natasha? Where were you?

Every time you tried to step forward your feet remained as if you were glued to the spot. It was over. You won. But at what cost? You stared at the scene in front of you as the ashes of the compound settled. Pepper knelt in front of Tony with Peter and Rhodey around her. You wanted to grab him by his chest, shake him, and scream, ‘Get up! Get up! I can’t lose you.’ But you remained standing where you stood until you heard someone call out your mama’s name. “Natasha! Natasha!” You spun around to see who was calling out of her. Of course, those who were blipped away wouldn’t know. Natasha was gone, sacrificed herself for a stupid orange rock to bring everyone back. To bring the woman who was standing in front of you back. You heard stories about her, scrolled through pictures on Natasha’s phone, and fought tooth and nail to preserve every memory you had of her. It was hard. She said your name so softly but it felt so loud to you.

“Mom,” you whispered back.

Everyone was surprised when they found out Natasha and Maria were looking to expand their family and adopt. It wasn’t that they thought they’d be bad parents but one was an active Avenger and the other was the Deputy Director. It was dangerous and hard to start a family in their line of work but that didn’t deter them. However, adoptive agencies were a little reluctant to accept them. After months and months of declined applications, they were starting to lose hope. Until they found you.

In true Avengers-style, the couple found you while on a mission to raid a HYDRA base. It was an easy mission as those that were guarding the base didn’t put up much of a fight. They were clearing out the building when one of the agents called over the coms for assistance from any available female. Natasha and Maria were the closest. When they arrived, the male agent was standing guard by the door. Natasha entered the room while Maria was debriefed. The room was set up as a bedroom and the Black Widow was a little confused about what was wrong until she heard a sound, metal against metal. The sound came from underneath the bed. Natasha hesitated to pull her gun when she saw you, a child no more than 4. “Hi sweetheart,” Natasha smiled and knelt. She heard Maria walk behind her but she kept her eyes on you. Her hands were up to show you she had no weapons. “You're safe,” Natasha whispered. “We won’t hurt you.” You hugged your knees closer to your chest.

“We can take that off of you,” Maria said, pointing to the metal chain around your ankle. Your eyes were wide and scared as they flickered from Maria and Natasha. Soon you crawled out from underneath the bed. The dress you wore came to your knees and it was caked in dirt. Carefully, Natasha moved closer to you and used a bobby pin to undo the metal chain. Once it was off, your legs couldn’t hold up your weight anymore and you fell into the Black Widow’s arms. She lifted you with ease, not liking how light you felt in your arms.

“You're safe,” Natasha whispered, looking at Maria who moved to stand next to her. The agent ran her hand over your hair and down your back. “You're safe.”

Maria held open the front door of the apartment you used to call home. It hadn’t been touched since Natasha brought you here before turning to the Avengers’ compound. There was a vague memory of the Black Widow resting you on the counter as she ran around the apartment to pack a bag. The pictures you drew were still on the fridge. Maria gently closed the door behind her. “We’ll have to go shopping for a new bed and clothes for you,” Maria said. “But we can do that tomorrow.” You nodded, picking up a framed photo that was left on the counter. It was of you, Maria, and Natasha when you were younger. The three of you were eating ice cream, with big smiles, and ice cream all over your face. Life seemed so simple back then. “Tonight you can sleep in our,” you looked at her. “My bed,” she corrected herself. “You can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch.”

“No,” you said, placing the photo face down on the counter. “I mean I can take the couch. I don’t mind.” Maria shook her head, walking over to you.

“It’s okay,” she forced a smile. “It’s only for one night.” She placed a hand on your shoulder and then on your cheek. Her touch felt foreign. “I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten.”

“5 years,” you whispered. “It’s been a while.” Maria nodded. You didn’t miss the way her eyes turned glossy with tears but quickly went away.

“Yeah it has but we’ll be okay,” you weren’t sure if you were okay. There was an ache growing in your chest. Each time you took a breath in it hurt. You wanted your mama back. “Why don’t you go get changed into something more comfortable and I’ll figure out dinner?” You nodded. “You still like cheese pizza.” A smile crept to your face.

“Yeah, I love it.” Natasha was surprised by how much pizza you could keep down. You turned around to walk toward the direction of your room but you stopped. Maria had a point all the clothes in there you outgrew and the clothes you had were destroyed when Thanos attacked the compound. You sighed and opened the door to Maria’s room.

The room, like the rest of the apartment, lay untouched for the past 5 years. You ran your hand over the made bed as you walked to the closet. It was like you were standing in a time capsule. In the closet, you picked out a shirt and a pair of sorts that you had to roll up to fit you. Instead of returning to the kitchen, you sat on the ground, back against the bed. With your knees bent, you rested your arms on them. You tried to keep the memory of her arms around you before she stepped onto the platform, or the last time she kissed your forehead, or the last time she told you she loved you.

“Why did you do it?” You asked about the empty room. “Why did you have to leave me?”

Maria grabbed a beer from the fridge, ignoring the artwork that decorated it. She ignored the photo you flipped over and every other photo that decorated the space as she sat on the couch. 5 years. She and so many others were gone for 5 years. The last time she saw you you were 5. You were 5 and Maria left you with her mother to go help Fury when Thanos snapped his fingers and half of Earth’s population was Blipped away. Maria leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling.

After Tony’s funeral, Maria found Clint at the property’s edge and made him tell her everything that she missed. His entire family got taken and he became the Ronin to deal with the loss. Then the time heist and the sacrifice needed for the stone. For 5 years, Natasha led the remaining Avengers to keep the world in order and raised you. When the time came, Natasha gave her life for her family to come back.

Maria should have been there to fight in Wakanda, to help raise you, and to remind Natasha every day that she loved her. Taking a sip of the beer, she looked around the apartment. It was her idea to get a place away from the Avengers so they could be a family and give you a normal childhood. Natasha fell in love with the place because of the open floor plan and the balcony that overlooked the city. The way her face lit up when Maria handed her the keys will live on in her memory forever. They danced in the kitchen with no music just the two of them. Maria closed her eyes, draping her arm over her face. Everywhere she looked she saw her. Her best friend. Her lover. Her wife. Natasha was gone. Life was so unfair but it must go on.

They said time would heal all wounds. That even the deepest feelings of sadness, disappointment, and anger would gradually go away as time passed. But you believed they couldn’t be more wrong. With each passing day, the ache grew and grew. All you wanted was to be wrapped in your mama’s arms to be safe and happy. If only you could press rewind and stop her from going with the others.

You knew that meant Maria and everyone else wouldn’t be back or worse Uncle Clint wouldn’t be with his family. That made you feel guilty. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that Maria was back. You were but you wanted to keep her at arm's length away. Your heart couldn’t handle more loss. There were times Maria wasn’t sure how to act around you. She would forget that you weren’t 5 years old but you were a preteen that could do things for yourself. It was a delicate dance you were performing and you were just so tired.

“She hates me, Clint,” Maria said, glancing in the direction of your room. You went to bed early, claiming you weren’t hungry. So Maria made a plate for you and put it in the fridge if you changed your mind. The archer chuckled. “I’m being serious. It’s like we are walking on eggshells around each other.” She took a bite of her dinner but it tasted bitter in her mouth. She forced herself to shallow and through the rest of the food away. She poured herself a shot instead. Clint sighed.

“She doesn’t hate you,” he said. “It’s gonna take time for you both to find a routine.” Maria sat down on the bar stool taking another shot. It was probably a bad idea but a few shots might help ease this pain. It had been 4 months since she turned and in those 4 months, the pain never got easier. “You have to remember that Nat was all she had for 5 years.”

“Yeah,” Maria took another shot. “I missed 5 years.”

“You're a good mom, Hill,” Clint said. “Nat wouldn’t shut up about it.” She could hear the smirk in his voice and it made her laugh. When was the last time she laughed? “I’m so sorry, Maria. If I stopped her or convinced her, your family would be whole.” She closed her eyes, feeling her throat burn as she tried to keep her tears away. One managed to escape and she allowed it to all down her cheek.

“Then your family would have a hole too,” it was almost comically at the situation she found herself in. The Bartons were her family. Laura and Clint saved her life countless times while on missions for SHIELD. “You know how stubborn Natasha...,” she paused. “Was.” She heard the hitch in Clint’s breathing. “She had a reason for everything.”

“That she did,” he sighed. “If you need anything you call me, okay? Day or night. You aren’t alone.”

“Same to you,” Another short was poured. “Give my love to Laura and the kids. We’ll come out to visit soon.” They said their goodbyes and hung up. The apartment was once again quiet as she downed the shot and walked over to her bedroom. Flickering on the light, the bed lay untouched. She couldn’t bring herself to sleep in it. There were too many memories locked away in these walls. She would come in here, change quickly, and leave just as fast. Tonight would be no different. She changed into one of Natasha’s sleeping shirts and a pair of shorts. Instead of leaving, her eyes glanced at a photo on her nightstand. It was of her and Natasha at one of Tony’s parties, the lights from the fireworks glowing on their face. She was pretty sure Pepper took the photo. “It’s been a while, my dear,” Maria whispered, tracing Natasha’s face with her fingers. “I’m still holding back these tears dealing with the cards life dealt,” she looked away from the picture and towards the bedroom door. “Delusion is here again and I think you’ll come home soon. I can’t help but miss you.” She placed the photo back in its spot and walked back into the living room.

She grabbed the bottle of vodka and sat back on the couch, taking a sip instead of pouring a shot. She felt so alone even though Clint said she wasn’t. She didn’t know how to be a mother to you or live her life without the woman she loved by her side. Finally, the dam broke and Maria allowed herself to cry.

You woke up, gasping for air. The blanket you used was drenched with sweat. It was the same nightmare that plagued your mind for months - Clint returned without Natasha, the compound exploded, and Thanos killed Tony, Maria, and everyone that you loved. It was torture. After a few deep breaths, your heart calmed down. You expected to be welcomed by the quiet apartment but you heard crying. On quiet feet, you slipped out of bed, out of your room, and passed the open door of Maria’s room. That was another surprise. For the past 4 months, the door was closed. In the living room, you saw Maria on the couch. Her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her tears. But you saw how much her body was shaking as each heart-wrenching sob tore through her. You’ve never seen her cry, not at the funeral or on nights when you got up to use the bathroom and she was still awake. Was she holding it in for your sake?

The floor creaked underneath you and Maria spun around to face you. She seemed startled by your sudden appearance. “Hi,” her voice shook as she forced a smile. “I’m sorry if I woke you.” She whipped away her tears. “Are you okay? Do you need something?” Wordlessly, you walked over to her and without hesitation, you hugged her. You felt her tense up but soon she wrapped her arms tightly around you.

“I miss her so much,” you cried against her, letting your tears fall. Almost every night you cried and muffled the sound with your pillow.

“So do I, sweet girl,” Maria whispered. She shifted you so you were sitting down next to her but her arms never left you. You felt her tears as she burrowed her face in your hair. You just didn’t lose your mom. Maria lost her best friend, her life partner. You were so selfish, lost in your pain and grief you never bothered to reach out to her.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m - I’m so -so sorry,” Maria forced you to look at her but kept you within arms reach. “I’ve been a horrible daughter to you. I wasn’t the only one to lose her and you kept trying to connect with me and I kept pushing you away. I’m so sorry mom,” You fell into her arms again, and each sob you let out shook your body.

“Sweetheart,” Maria whispered, cradling your head and gently rocking you from side to side. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.” She whispered gentle reassuring into your ear until your violent sobs turned into quiet hiccups but you refused to let go of her. Maria sensed your hesitation to let her go so she lifted you with ease and carried you to her room. She gently sat you on the bed. You let go of her. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

“Promise?” You questioned. She smiled and this time it wasn’t forced.

“I promise, carina (sweetheart), she kissed the top of your head and you watched her leave the room. For the past 4 months, you wanted to be alone. You pushed and pushed Maria away and enjoyed the silence of your room. Now you hated being alone. You picked at the skin around your thumb as you waited and only stopped when she returned, holding two water bottles and a cloth. She placed the water on the nightstand and sat in front of you. You crossed your legs to give her more space. With gentle hands, she used the cloth to wipe the tears off your face. The silence was comfortable unlike before when it was tense and awkward. Once she was done, she handed you the water. “You have nothing to apologize for, mjia,” she said when you were done drinking. “I get it. For 5 years, Natasha was,” You cringed at the past tense usage for your mama. “All you had. She was the one there.” You heard the guilt that laced each one of her words. It wasn’t her fault. It was Thanos. You took your hand in hers. “The last time I saw you you were a spunky pain in my ass 5 year old,” you giggled. “I’m surprised you remembered me.”

“Of course I remember you,” you said. “Mama would tell me stories about you and her during your SHIELD days. But I started to remember the moments that we shared. We colored and watched Scooby-Doo and ate cheese pizza until I got sick.” Maria laughed, whipping away a tear that fell. “I was just scared.” You admitted.

“Why?” You sighed, looking at things around the room. You looked at everything except the woman in front of you.

“I don’t want to lose you too,” you said. “I watched Uncle Clint return without Mama, Uncle Tony died from his injuries, and Uncle Steve went back in time to be with Peggy. Everything is changing, nothing is the same except the truth is everyone is gone.”

“And life goes on.” Finally, you looked at her. She was staring at your connected hands.

“Yeah, life goes on.” You whispered. “But you are here and I’m here, right? And you won’t leave.” It was an impossible request as you knew she was still an active agent and Avenger.

“I will always come back home to you,” she compromised. You nodded, rubbing your eyes with your free hand. Maria smiled. “Come on let’s get some sleep.” Without thinking, you pulled back the covers and got comfortable. You didn’t miss the way Maria rolled her eyes. When she turned off the overhead light, you turned on the night light. “Move over,” she said. “I forgot how much of a bed hog you are.” You laughed, moving over to make space, and turned off the light. For the first time in a long time, the darkness didn’t scare you.

“Goodnight Mom,” you said. “I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart,” you smiled, turned your back to Maria, and closed your eyes. But you waited to fall asleep. Maria tossed and turned, sighing a few times soon she fell asleep. She had to be exhausted. Quietly, you sat up and stared at her. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the low light but you looked at your mom’s features. It was the most peaceful you’ve seen her. With a sigh, you fished a picture out of your pant pocket. The picture went everywhere with you, even in the dark you knew every detail of it. One night at the compound, you found a Polaroid camera and you figured it was Wanda’s. As Natasha was making dinner, you ran over to her and threw your arm over her shoulders to take the picture. It was blurry, and a little out of focus, and your mama had flour all over her from making pizza but it was perfect.

“Watch over us, okay?” You whispered to the picture. “And keep mom safe. Please. I love and miss you, Mama.” You kissed the photo and slipped it back into your pocket. You stayed awake, hands behind your head, and stared up at the dark ceiling. Everything reminded you of her and you felt a lump form in your throat. Over the past 5 years, the best memories you had with Natasha were late-night talks on the roof. She told you stories of the stars, about her past, and her hope for the future.

‘I think I want to move out of New York,’ she said one night. She was staring up at the stars like always while you sipped on hot chocolate.

‘Really?’ You questioned, setting the mug down and wrapping the blanket tighter around you. ‘And go where?’

‘Anywhere,’ she whispered. ‘When your mom and your aunt come back. I’m going to take all of us away from this. I’m done,’ she leaned back on her hands. ‘A nice house with a lot of land so we could get a dog or a cat.’ You always wanted a dog. ‘Kind of like what Clint did with his family. So we can be together, safe, and happy.’

‘Promise?’ You found yourself asking. Finally, she looked at you. Green eyes locked onto yours.

‘Yeah,’ she smiled. ‘I promise.’

You turned back on your side, tears running down your cheek. “Why did you break your promise?” You whispered, closing your eyes. You squeezed them so tight color danced behind your eyelids. Every tear you shed you tried to keep it down, not wanting to wake your mom. But you heard her shift in her sleep and pull you into her arms. Now your head rested on her chest while her hand drew circles on your back.

“I got you,” she mumbled, voice laced with sleep. “I promise. I got you.” Promise. A promise was a declaration or assurance that one would do a particular act or that a particular thing would happen. But what was a promise if you feared it would be broken?

Part 2 (coming soon)

#natasha romanoff x maria hiill #blackhill #blackhill x reader #blackhill x daughter!reader #blackhill x daughter #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #maria hill x you #maria hill x reader #maria hill x daughter!reader #marvel au #blackhill angst

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galaxywarp · 8 months

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(please like if you read. and it would mean a lot to me if you read.)

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My body and my mind have been sick lately

So my sleep schedule has been fucked.

3am is a normal time to wake.

And just before the sun rises,

I find a couple of dollars

And I put some gas in my tank and I buy a cheap iced coffee,

And I drive and I watch the sun come up

While I listen to music that makes my friends sad.

And as I’m standing at the pump and overdrawing my bank account to put a few dollars of gas in my car,

And my speakers are playing a song about wanting to kill my father with a baseball bat,

I see a man around my age walking towards the gas station,

From out of the shadows of the distant sidewalk

Into the harsh light.

And he’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants and he’s walking alone through the dark to a gas station at 5 in the morning to buy a lighter

And some part of me registers that this is a man who others may feel nervous about him approaching them through the darkness.

But in him I see myself.

And I miss being a meth addict.

And I miss his world. And I miss dragging myself, dirty and beaten, to the nearest gas station at 5 in the morning with loose change in my pocket to buy myself a lighter so that I can smoke my meth pipe.

And I get back in my car that’s still playing a song about wanting to kill my father with a baseball bat.

And I try to think about what it is I’m missing.

And I think of rooms of faces,

Painful, terrible, beautiful faces,

Where every person there understands exactly what it’s like to be at a gas station at 5 in the morning listening to a song about wanting to kill your father with a baseball bat.

And you don’t have to think about it.

You don’t have to talk about it.

They just hand you a pipe

And a lighter

And the pain goes away.

And I drive to pick up my iced coffee

And I don’t feel as bad about the iced coffee as I thought I would.

It’s only two dollars, after all.

And it’s easy to find two dollars, even when you have nothing else.

You can find two dollars in a lot of places.

In your couch.

In old jacket pockets.

In the kindness of a stranger.

And I’ve been hoarding loose change for years.

I keep it in my grandpa’s old ammunition box from the war.

The box where I keep one of the shells from the guns they fired at his and grandma’s funeral.

The box where I keep a dirty rusty nail that someone gave me in rehab.

Someone who didn’t make it, but I did.

The box where I keep the smooth pretty blue stone that the other patients passed around on my last day, that they held close to their hearts as they wished me strength on my journey. As they told me that I was strong and that I was going to make it.

And it’s the box where I keep my loose change

For iced coffee

And meth lighters.

It’s easy to find two dollars.

Your mom will give you two dollars

If you tell her it’s for iced coffee

And not meth lighters.

Your mom will give you two dollars

If you promise it’s not to kill yourself.

And in the drive thru the girl asks me to please wait a moment, she has to refill the coffee.

And I tell her it’s okay, really, no rush.

And she thanks me

And tells me she appreciates me.

And I think about all the jobs I’ve had

Where I had to ask a customer to please wait a moment

So I could do something important

Like refill the coffee

Or use heroin in the bathroom.

And when she hands me my iced coffee I say thank you

And I tell her “I appreciate you too”.

And I see her face fall, briefly,

As she is stunned by my words

Taken aback by this brief, fleeting moment of genuine kindness and connection.

And just as quickly she smiles at me

Truly smiles

And says thank you.

And I hurry and drive away, so she can deal with the rest of the cars in line

Many of which are running late for work

And who will blame her for it.

And I take my drive.

And I watch the sun rise.

And I listen to music that makes my friends sad.

And when I come home

I wash down my antidepressants with what’s left of my iced coffee

And I think about how I don’t miss being a meth addict.

I am a meth addict

Without his pipe.

#recovery tag #addiction #drug addiction #recovery #poetry

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

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Park Outings Headcanons

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

summary: What it's like when Jake takes his son to the park

A/n: Jake as a doting father? fuckkkk

Jake never saw himself as the ‘take your kid to the park’ kind of guy when he was single or even when it was just you and him. Go with his married friends and their kids for comradery? Sure. Accompany his niece and nephew? Fine. It was all fuzzy in his head when he thought about himself, but then Luke came along and that picture became clear as day.

Luke’s favorite place was the park, the five-year-old loved to run and play for hours in the small playground

He would sit at the top of the slide and watch the ocean in the far distance and beg Jake to watch him slide down to the warm sand below

He’s a well prepared dad. Jakes uses one of his old backpacks and fills it with everything. 2 first aid kits, a change of clothes, and an endless supply of snacks and juice boxes

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Luke whined as he dramatically sat on the park bench, his little limbs splayed in all directions

Jake opened his bag and tossed a small bag of goldfish and a juice box in his lap, kissing the top of his head as he tore into it

Cuts and scraped knees? Hangman’s all over it

He’ll gently soothe his son as he cries from the burn of the antiseptic

“It burns,” he cried, his nails digging crescents into the skin around his scraped knee

“I know buddy, I know,” Jake told him as calmly as he could, “you are bein’ so strong.”

Jake wiped his tears and marveled at how quickly his son would be running back towards the monkey bars, showing off his airplane band-aid to his friends

You were also a very hot topic at the playground

Sometimes Jake would wear one of his Navy t-shirts and would have all the single moms and nannies flocking to the muscular blond

They’re weak in the knees when he tells them he’s an aviator

Then he smirks and delivers the final blow “My wife and I were top of our class at Top Gun. They call her Widow… she’s absolutely lethal.”

It was fun for him to see them scatter

Luke loved when he heard the roar of the planes from the base, “Daddy, Daddy!” he gasped, running as fast as he could, his eyes towards the clear blue sky

Jake would lift him up on his shoulders and watch him look for the planes

Luke wiggled as he saw the silhouettes of the planes pass over

He never failed to wave at them

“Do you think that’s mommy?” he asked

“I think it might, bud!”

After long days at the park, Luke always smiled when he saw your car in the driveway

He’d race from Jake’s truck and straight into your arms

“Oh my little love,” you hummed as you held him tight, nuzzling your nose into his neck “Did you have fun at the park?”

“I did! Did you see me wave? Did you?” he asked excitedly

You and Jake shared a loving glance as he got out of the truck

You hugged Luke a little tighter, kissing his cheek.“Of course, I did, baby.”

"How was the park?" you asked him after the lights went out, cuddled against him in your bed

Jake placed kisses along your shoulder blades and held you tightly

"I got to play doctor and turn down five women in one afternoon."

He could feel the satisfied grin on your face

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x fem!reader #dad!jake seresin #dad!jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #glen powell #hangman x reader

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cchapsticck · 4 months

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A couple things:

The first album he ever owned that he got to choose on his own was Master of Reality when Wayne handed him 5 bucks at the used record store after he picked him up from foster. And he’s pretty sure Children of the Grave changed his brain chemistry. Like something in him got hard re-wired and soldered in place. Like there’s no unfixing that fix.

The first song he ever learned to play on Wayne’s old beater acoustic was Here Comes The Sun, but if anyone asks he says it was Smoke on the Water, which was actually second but the truth is possibly humiliating, considering his curated reputation.

He cannot read music. Which is funny, considering he’s had a “band” since 7th grade. He just kind of picks at shit by ear. Which he’s pretty good at, thank you very much. It's why he likes shit with solos, he can pick out a riff better than he can pick out a chord progression.

Said band did not lock down members with any kind of permanence until 10th and no one had any kind of electrified instrument until 11th because Jeff and Phil and Gareth might be better off than he is - drug money notwithstanding - but tuns out parents aren’t keen to just drop that kind of money so one’s kid can fuck around in another kid’s garage every couple weekends for that kind of price tag

Metal shows are few and far between in Roane County, considering all the ways it is. But the couple no-name bands that have breezed through town at the dive-iest of bars the county has to offer well - he doesn’t want to say, changed his life but - but he’s never been so glad to have been elbowed in the face because everyone’s having a good fucking time and without the accompanying “faggot” attached to the act, which he’s had a repeat performance of just. Generally. In his life outside of the shittest bars in Indiana.

He’s not saying Zepplin II made him gay but Robert Plant’s face pasted onto that German soldier’s body made him feel some kind of way at a formative age and that’s maybe just something he’s going to take to the grave even if apparently the shittiest of shitheads just decided that was a true thing about him on their own.

Steve Harrington has been hot since, like, junior high. Which is horseshit. Because like, first of all. He sucks. Like, he’s a douche. But Barb Holland died and he ended up in the hospital because apparently those two things are related events and rumor has it he got kicked out of his house and he shaved his head about it and there are a shocking number of scars hidden under that disco hair and that, unfortunately, does not make him less hot or less of a douche.

Another thing: Dustin Henderson is fucking annoying. Like annoying in the unremarkable way all nerds are annoying that he’s a little dead to (like sometimes he catches himself mid-tirade and thinks ‘damn, I’d kick my ass too’) so he gets it but also. He’s fucking annoying. He’s fucking annoying about Steve Harrington in particular which like. Hilarious. Go figure.

And he’s got a lot of annoying ammunition in that particular annoying gun, because apparently Harrington’s been living in his basement. So the kicked out thing is probably true. A lot of what he’s got to say is anecdotal. Lives in the basement. Pays rent. Makes dinner for Henderson’s mom. Drives him to school. Owns a bat with nails in it? Which. Alright? That makes about as much sense as anything else going on. The weirdly dense law enforcement presence in the wake of the Holland murder (and those are feds, like, he knows cops, he grew up around a lot of cops - thanks Dad - these are not cops) and the ever evolving whatever-this-is of Steve Harrington which he is for sure paying a normal amount of attention to and not unloading his guts at Gareth and Jeff who for sure don’t want to kick his ass about it because are we all seeing this shit? It's been like 5 years of high school and this is a puzzle he is no closer to solving, as he is no closer to graduating. And it's not because he’s being a dipshit about Harrington’s gradual transformation no matter what Gareth keeps insisting. (he’s being a dipshit about graduating because he’s a dipshit - separate problem)

But like, something is for sure going on with Steve Harrington. And fuck him dead because he is desperate to pick it apart. It's got nothing to do with the horny goblin in his brain barking about the, shall we say, aesthetic realignment here (which maybe, like, is coming for the integrity of his own genre cred but like. Come on, man.) and it's got everything to do with someone like Steve Fucking Harrington willfully abdicating the throne to throw himself amongst the Maligned With Problems The World Will Make Your Fault. Like he had to have known the flavor of hell people like him and Hagan and every other one of those silver spoon fucks made of his life. And not just his, just like, anyone remotely adjacent in the social order.

There’s this kind of unspoken truth at shows. Like metal, hardcore, whatever, any genre within a genre that fills up bars like this, like he’s pretty sure the punks even have this rule, this remains true: the more normal the guy looks the more fucked in the head he is. That guy is dangerous. That guy is working through some shit you cannot even begin to conceive of and this is only outlet he’s got. Like that guy will straight murder you if you come at him wrong in a pit and everyone knows it. You do not fuck with that guy. You do not make eye contact with that guy. So Steve Harrington in his tightass Levi’s and bright white fresh out the 3-pack t-shirt hugging the back wall of the Hideout on a Thursday night sure is a red flag. But red’s always been his favorite color, so-

So he buries his shoulder blades in the wall right next to him and hits him with a of all the gin joints and Steve just squints at him like he’s got no fucking clue what he’s talking about. Figures. Harrington always seemed like a philistine. Steve just runs his hand over his shaved short head, and Eddie swears he can hear the rasp of Steve’s palm over the noise of the bar.

“You come here often?” And it's not not a come on and he’s a little prepared to get decked but it's also a genuine question.

“It’s work.” Steve says, not unkindly but not really looking at him either. Like he’s not really interested in the conversation or Eddie at all.

“It’s work?”

And that gets Steve looking and he does not look impressed. It's cute. Which probably says more about Eddie’s ability to turn disdain into some semblance of private affection but we’re not going to unpack that bag we’re just going to throw the whole suitcase out.

“Well, I can’t work the bar so I just pull people out of the pit. Work the door sometimes.” Steve says over the noise of the bar, by way of explanation.

“How about that?” he says with no small amount of genuine awe. “Mall work not cutting it for you, then?”

Steve just kind of one shoulder shrugs. Not cutting it in the sense that the mall like, fuckin’ burned down but. Y’know. Speaking in kind of a general hypothetical kind of way. Looking for a new career path kind of way. Less about the mall directly. Or at all.

“Yes and no. I got punched less by skinheads at the mall.” and that almost sounds like a joke, like Harrington isn’t totally hating this conversation. Delightful.

“And you’d willingly go into this line of work when Henderson says you can’t win a fight?” he says it like he means it, like he’s actually surprised. Because he is. Because getting laid out at a show is just some shit that happens sometimes. Assholes with something to prove, the wrong guy took an elbow at the wrong time, a drunk got in the pit and doesn’t know the difference between a good time and a fight, like, shit happens.

Steve’s scrunched up face of repulsion and offense is additionally cute.

“Yeah well, Henderson says a lot of shit about you too.”

He may have been operating on the assumption that Steve actually had no idea who he was. And was just some weird guy who, for some reason, had a lot of personal information about him that was in no way reciprocated. Just kind of figured he would have been beneath Harrington’s notice in a big picture kind of way.

Fuck you, Henderson, how dare you.

“Only glowing reviews, I’m sure.”

“More or less.”

Alright he’ll take back point two, then. You’re on thin ice, Henderson.

“Is that where the uh-” and he kind of gestures limply at the pit and then towards the thick, formerly stapled up scarring in Steve’s hairline. Like he’s come home from a show with a bloody nose or a black eye or two but nothing like that.

“No.”

It's the finality in his tone, when he says it that makes him suspect he’s fucked this up and the conversation is over.

And it is.

So he hangs around the bar for the set and then he leaves and its not really all that interesting.

But he thinks about that for a while, that something rattled Steve Harrington’s cage so hard he’s this now. Somewhere in the realm of quietly fucked up, and on the edges of good sensibility and good taste because its more comfortable out of a spotlight. Even if the dark on the edge of that pool of light is more than a little dangerous, but at least there’s a place to hide.

And then Chrissy Cunningham dies on his ceiling and he has to keep hiding.

#i wrote this thing like a billion years ago when punk!steve was going around and this was the closest i could get to it #while still feeling authentic #character wise anyway idk #i think i had other plans for it but i don't remember them now #so i cleaned it up and here it is yall can have it now #prompts #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steveddie #steddie fic #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #punk!steve #steddie au #stranger things fic #steve x eddie #steddie fics #i've been trying other creative outlets and just getting mad so i decided to clean up wips i figure would never see the light of day

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kurjakani · 1 day

Note

They symbols section for those of asks with Preyer? They look really cool :3

*doodle for sleep question :D

Copypasting my short info of Preyer from my oc blog here for clarity: Preyer | stole a banned, self replicating, injectable nanotechnology known to transform bodies beyond recognition. Shares this with their followers, a rag tag group of bodymodification enthusiast.

details about ocs! - ask game

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

HMMM i don't think Preyer themself GRAVITATES towards music as a freetime activity, however I do think they like it and that a lot of their followers/friends like it! So, since they all spend a lot of time together, Preyer ends up listening to a lot of it.

As for what- Preyer loves everything abrahasive and grating, looks & audio & sensation wise so... nails on chalkboard music. Probably a lot of scifi noise music!

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

They speak easier with their original mouth, and they hate that fact. Despite having two mouths, they only have one tongue! Their original face kind of slots over their mouth, and they slip their tongue into the original mouth cavity to use it to speak. They can speak with their new mouth, but it's pretty garbled.

They collect insects, both dead and alive. They still pin them as a hobby!

they were originally a character I made to ship w gyutaro LMFAO >:D liked their look too much and now theyre a machine girlie instead of a demon

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

SUPERB sleeping habits. They spread out all of their limbs, relax and slack. They're a tosser and turner, and a big sleeptalker. They love sleeping w a lot of freedom since they go through a lot of "holding their body in one piece" to hide their transformation from non-friends. They wear corset-like pieces to push the seperated parts of their legs etc back together. They sleep a lot, actually, also. Eeper mom.

🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming?

Honestly probably not? The town in homebound is a very rare move for me where there arent any (non frozen solid) bodies of water nearby. Yes there are swimming halls, probably heated underground, but swimming is kind of an optional skill, and it's really hard to teach preyer anything they have no reason to be interested in. Their biomechanical body IS WATERPROOF, they wouldn't get electrocuted or anything, but its also a lot of thin long limbs that would get tangled up and not make for very good paddles.

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

Actually had to think about this, but yeah i think so! :D preyer seems like they'd be a bit of a gun nerd. All futuristic stuff ofc, but still.. However they're more of a blades person.

🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise?

Oh, ZERO true medical knowledge. They almost avoid it subconciously. I do think theyre aight w first aid though, it's nessecary as the transformation they& their friends go through causes a lot of tearing, and makes for very easy infections. Anything further, Miulu takes care of for them.

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

HMMM actually a lil tough to say. I would say Preyer likes the taste of alcohol and the smell of smoke but it's really hard to imagine them drunk? They don't want to admit it but they like being in control too much for that.

TYSM FOR ASKING & LETTING ME RAMBLE ABT THEM!!!

#Ask #Kanitalk #Kaniocs #Ask games

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many-but-one · 2 months

Text

EYEWITNESS

⚠️TW: religious trauma, CSA, RAMCOA, descriptions of child death⚠️

Author’s note: This is an intense poem, but is extremely important for me to share as an eyewitness to these atrocities. As the highest level gatekeeper in our system, I witnessed Everything, and was forced to cut my emotions about it away so I could do my job. Yesterday, a mutual on TikTok (The Brigadoon System) posted a video in response to a hate comment on one of our videos, in which they described the emotions about what it’s like to witness child death, and it struck such a chord in me that I actually was able to feel some of these feelings again for the first time in many, many years. It was difficult. Devastating. But also cathartic in a way. It reminded me that I’m not the cold monster I used to believe I was, and that allowing yourself to feel grief can be healing, too.

Please only read if you feel you are able to do so, please heed the trigger warnings above.

This poem DOES end on a good note, but it starts a bit heavy. Please read with caution.

EYEWITNESS

You know what they say about eyewitness reports. How they are often unreliable, how people often focus too much on a certain thing or they are too caught up in the emotions of it all that they mistake brunette hair for black, or black skin for white. Or whatever story serves the highest bidder, whatever story the pigs can scrape out of them to put someone they already hate behind bars.

You’ve all heard that, right?

And maybe it’s true that eyewitness accounts aren’t always accurate, but I’ve always felt like I would be a fantastic eyewitness, so good, in fact, the cops would hate me for how I refuse to stare at the lineup of pictures of black men with dreads or Latino men with tattoos that scare the perfect bottle blonde PTO moms lined up in front of me. They’d hate me for how I’d describe the perpetrator as a white man in a black business suit, I’d note the exact turn the curls in his hair made. I’d let the police know he wore blue eye contacts. I’d tell them not to forget the freckle underneath his right eye, I surely won’t. I could tell them that his dick was 6.75 inches too and that he never shaved, and when they ask me why I know that, I’ll tell them that I could feel him hitting my cervix when I was six years old, and he couldn’t push all the way in. I’ll tell them I used to get his hair stuck under my tongue when he used my mouth like a cunt. I’d let them know he kept his nails clean and trimmed short so that when he gripped at me he wouldn’t leave scratches that would be noticed later.

See, the thing about eyewitness accounts is that emotions are always running high when someone holds a gun to you from the other side of a convenience counter, but luckily for me I cut those away when I was seven, my job description required it, especially after that one cold December night. You know, the really important one everyone talks about all the time. It’s a night that I lament as the one I became god, and so too like god I created the separation between the sky and the land—the inner world one, I mean. Don’t think I’ve gotten cocky, I’m not that much of a sadist.

The sky I created was like spilled ink swelling across a page of parchment, and it held no stars or moon. Instead the black, viscous sky held my grief, it held that singular emotion I could not take that night, the night I was killed three times and what arose from me were sacrificial lambs, a pack of snarling wolves, and a god whose blue eyes were as cold as the winter’s midnight wind. The grief nearly overtook me and so I had to cut him away from me, I placed him in the sky, the one thing that would remain not only above me, but all around me, a place I would swim in every so often and get trapped in like a raptor in a Jurassic tar pit.

The rest of my parts, the children and the tigers and the demons and angels would never know where my grief went, they’d call me cold and cruel, they’d call me a monster, and I’d let them, because I knew they were telling the version of the truth I believed myself. I was a monster for having the ability to cut my pain away from me while they all writhed in theirs like a fly caught in a spider’s web.

For every trauma we took, for every single event I witnessed, the sky would grow larger, darker, heavier. Nobody felt the weight of it except me, the god who resided in it, an Atlas of epic proportions—who experienced everything, witnessed everything, Knew Everything. Omnipresent, omniscient, but not omnipotent. Every December reminded me of that, when I’d find myself on that church floor in my white dress with my limbs bound in prayer. O Holy God, wherest art thou? I’m right here, I’ve Always been here. Shattered over and over like delicate china dolls, those fragment pieces still scream the words I could never say at the time and will never be able to receive an actual answer for.

WHY? WHY? WHY?

The answer that I know you hold in your blackened heart is that you’re a sick and twisted man with sick and twisted followers, who keep the red eyes trained on me for money. Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid, that I don’t know your little games weren’t for a religious cause? They were so you could line your pockets. But at least I’d get a good Christmas present and my dad would get his booze money.

I used to wish that you had killed me, my desire to give up and die was held in a creature called The Nothing, held back by the strongest of my wolf pack, a black hellhound named G’mork wreathed in the fires of Wrath and Vengeance, who holds Hope like a tool of demolition. He held back this immense creature almost as expansive as my grief overhead, and it kept us alive.

It wasn’t until later that I realized how important this would be to me. See, I hated that he existed to keep that desire at bay, sometimes I wish I could tell him to let it free, let it consume us, but our brain was stubborn in keeping us alive.

I now realize that if I hadn’t lived all these years later, I wouldn’t have been able to become the most important eyewitness I’d ever become. The most painful and devastating eyewitness I would ever bear, a witness to monstrosities that cannot ever be truly described, something I wish in my heart of heart and soul of souls that I could have stopped. I couldn’t then.

But maybe now, I can.

I have lived through so many types of torture, the sorts of things that make even my therapist with decades of experience wince and cringe. The sorts of things you can’t even conceive of if you hadn’t seen them yourself.

The first time I watched a child die, she looked like me. It was an accident, and I know this because the men in their black clothes and black masks with their blue eyes peering over and through were swearing and yelling at the one responsible for her death. I never knew her name, but her blonde hair was lighter than mine, and her eyes more of a grey than a blue. Her neck snapped like a gunshot and I froze when her body went limp. The girl next to me, perhaps barely five, screamed. The one on my other side, a girl no older than me, with hair longer than mine and a darker shade of gold than mine, stood stoic, her bright blue eyes barely welling with tears. When they punished the screaming girl mere seconds after the sound had been ripped from her lungs, I copied the older girl out of desperation. I had grown used to cutting out my emotions by now, what was a bit more going to do to me? My inner world sky now held a single star. I named that girl Star in my mind. Her hair was like a halo, fluffy like angels wings. It seemed fitting. I’ll never, ever forget her. I cannot unsee her. I have never been able to grieve her.

Many more stars were added over the course of months and years, a sky full of them, twinkling down upon my system, them none the wiser of who they represented. The girl with the doe-brown eyes, I called her Bambi. The girl who compulsively tore out her hair and was so very tall for being only nine, I called her Willow. They all had nicknames in my mind, all the ones I could see well enough and for long enough to name. For those that I couldn’t, their stars shined the brightest, my grief for them more intense than the heat of a supernova. Nameless stars for nameless girls.

Many of them were named various shades of colors, after what they were wearing, or the color of their skin or hair. Most often I used the colors of their eyes, something I almost always saw. Something I never looked away from, even in their final moments when I wanted to look away.

I made a promise to my first star, that I would never look away. Looking away meant punishment anyway, but even if it didn’t, I wouldn’t. I may never know their real name if they even had one, but I would know them by the color of their eyes.

Honey, Golden, Oak, Leaf, Moss, Ocean, Mist, Bluejay.

The eyes always told me what their screams could not. Their screams were pleas for help they knew wouldn’t come, but their eyes said WITNESS ME and I bore witness to them. NEVER FORGET ME and I never forgot them. LIVE FOR ME and I lived for them.

I taught myself more colors in art class at school so I could find more names to give. There would always be names to give. Perhaps this is why I became an artist. Every time I mix new colors on the palette, dip brush to oil and brush to paint and put paint to canvas, I remember the shades of eyes I saw, who begged me to be their eyewitness. Their eyes cover my canvases. Perhaps this is why I’ve always liked the colors blue, green, and brown in my artworks.

I see their eyes everywhere I go. In the moss clinging to tree bark during an afternoon walk, in the slicked brown leaves after an autumn thunderstorm, in the clear sky on a balmy summer’s day, in the honey I put in my tea when I have a cold, and in my morning coffee.

You’d think this would make me hate going outside, but nature is my favorite place to be. You’d think this would make me stop seeing color in everything I do, but I can’t help but gaze at the colorful world around me. After all, wouldn’t it make me sad to see the cinnamon on my toast and remember the exact way a girl was dismembered before me? Maybe for some this would be true, but not for me.

To me this is the best way I can bring these girls with me along in my life, in this way, it feels like they’re growing with me. In this way, it feels like they’re now an eyewitness to MY life, a life I promised I would live for them.

I always keep my promises.

#aridam🪢#dissociative identity disorder #personal post #manybutone #did system #poetry #my poetry

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gaysindistress · 7 months

Text

As Good a Reason - seven

pairing: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️ x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️, cursing, blood, more character deaths, smutty moments but not full spice

word count: 2.6k

Tag list @kandis-mom @casa-boiardi @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @cakesandtom @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn @emerald-writes

a/n: AHHHH HERE'S THE FINAL PART OF AS GOOD A REASON!!!! I know I went MIA for a minute but I'm back. I started a new job and moved states so it's been an absolutely crazy week for me. Going forward, I'm going to be slower with updating and fics will probably only come out once a week. I've been focusing on editing Divine Violence and catching up on my reading stack (my poor kindle is overloaded) but I promise I won't forget about all of you on tumblr <3 <3 <3

six | series masterlist

Victoria is silent during the drive, keeping her stare ahead and out the front window without so much as a single glance to her sister or brother. Y/N keeps shooting glances at Niklaus for explanation but he offers nothing.

“Vic,” she says softly, touching her sister’s shoulder and she flinches at the touch, “Vic what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer at first but the second time that her sister asks, she briefly looks back at her and whispers something.

“What did you say?”

Clearing her throat, she says the unthinkable, “Brock made me do it.”

“What did he make you do?” Niklaus says as he leans towards the front seat.

“I didn’t have a choice. He….he said if I loved him, I would do it.”

Steve glances over in concern from the driver’s seat, “What is she going on about?”

“I know just as much as you,” Y/N scoffs before turning to her sister, “Vic what did he make you do?” “He said that if I was a good daughter, I would do it,” she mumbles to herself as she pulls something from under her loose sweatshirt. Steve looks over at her again and slams on the breaks in efforts to stop her from pulling out the weapon. The sudden stop sends everyone flying forward as well the knife Victoria had started to pull out. Steve snatches it up before she can with one hand and has a gun pointed at with the other. The car behind them, the one that Sam and James are in, slams to a halt as well as the two men clamor out.

“What the fuck?” James hisses when he approaches the driver’s side. He narrows his eyes at everyone inside the car and lets out a disappointed sigh when he sees the knife and a shaking Victoria.

“I expected more of you, Victoria Marie,” he scolds her as if she is a child and nods to Sam and Steve. Sam rips the backseat door open and pulls the other two triplets out as Steve hands him the knife.

“What are you doing?” Niklaus sneers at Sam and James but neither of them answer. Y/N tries her hand at getting an answer but again gets nothing aside from a stern look from James. Steve exits the vehicle next as the two are dragged back to the second car. He grabs hold of Y/N who fights him tooth and nail to get out of his hold but it’s useless.

As they’re shoved into the car, they hear a gunshot. Both gasp and let out cries of anger, rage, pain, sadness, anything at all that they’ve felt in the last six years. James joins them in the car, cleaning the barrel of Steve’s gun off on his pant leg. He says nothing as Sam drives off.

The car where Victoria should be in is starting to smoke as flames try to lick up the sides. Y/N looks at him in horror but no reaction.

Two Rumlows gone in the span of two hours.

Who is next?

Five days pass before Y/N leaves her room.

She guarded the door with any piece of furniture she could find and refused to open it unless absolutely necessary. Niklaus, of course, had been the only expectation however he too rarely left his room.

That was until Steve pounded on their doors, demanding that they be downstairs in 15 minutes for a reunion dinner. Y/N scoffs at the idea of having a reunion dinner when all her and her brother want to do is grieve.

Another pound on the door brings her attention back and she takes a sharp breath in before opening it. A black box sits on the ground in front of the door and it takes everything in her to not stomp on the fragile lid. She picks it up and tosses it onto her bed, staring at it as she sits on the floor. It’s similar to the box she got that first night days ago.

Weeks ago.

Months ago?

Honestly at this point, Y/N couldn’t remember how long it had been since she was dragged back to this hell hole of a city and had her life turned upside down. All she knows is that the grip that James had on her is growing tighter everyday. It’s becoming suffocating, squeezing out any breath that she tries to take and that box on her bed is a physical reminder of the hand that’s always wrapped around her throat.

She climbs to her feet and hesitantly takes a seat next to the box, contemplating whether or not she should let the hand control her even more. A thought crosses her mind, one that chills her to the bone.

What would James do to Klaus?

Her fingers quickly flick open the box and the lid slides back to reveal a gold necklace sitting on black tissue paper. She lets out a deep sigh at the theatrics that James puts into everything that he does. Picking up the necklace, Y/N scoffs as she looks it over. Of course, he would ask…command her to wear a necklace with his name on it.

However as her fingers pick it up, they catch on the paper to show a bundle of black gleaming fabric. She pulls the paper back even more and takes out the dress he’s also silently demanding that she wears. It’s a mid length square neck dress that will no doubt show off everything she wants to hide from men like James.

Sneering at both disgusting gifts, she throws them back into the box and shoves it off her bed. It clatters to the floor as she stares at it in anger, a deep feral anger that needs to be released. This anger accepts only one payment though and that is blood. More specifically that of the White Wolf’s.

Only the sounds of clanking silverware and the occasional conversation between James and his men. Niklaus and Y/N stayed silent from the moment they saw each other in the hall. He glared at the dress and necklace she wore and she wanted desperately to tell him it was all a facade but she couldn’t without tipping off the men around them. She could see the palpable anger in his eyes, the hurt that flashed when he read the name that claimed her throat. She tried to convey with her eyes that it would all end tonight but he looked away too quickly and went back to eating.

The dining room is much like the rest of the house, black and devoid of any emotion. She wants to make a remark about it mirroring the inside of the owner’s heart but one quick glance to the head of the table keeps it locked behind her painted lips.

James, ever the regal mafia leader, is leaning back in his chair as he watches over his subjects. Surprisingly he’s only wearing a half buttoned black short sleeve and black slacks. Y/N pretends to trail her eyes over the tanned skin that is on display and when she lands on his face, there is a smirk welcoming her heated gaze. He takes a swallow of his favored amber liquid without breaking eye contact with her. A shiver of disgust wants to wash over her body but she suppresses it as Sam speaks. He drones on about whatever useless business he and Steve dealt with today, no doubt so insignificant that if Klaus or Y/N tried to use it against them, it would do nothing. She knew this routine well; dangle pieces of information before their enemies in efforts to get them to strike. Brock had done it time and time again to the point that the remaining Triplets knew it well. Well enough to not take the bait.

Dinner slowly comes to an end as servants take away the empty places, leaving all of the guests to glare at each other. Y/N’s fingers tap lightly on the steak knife that remains, drawing attention to it and Steve motions for it to be taken away. James chuckles under his breath as he watches the interaction but says nothing. Y/N smirks on the inside but puts on a face of frustration.

Both her and the White Wolf knew that if she was going to try something, she wouldn’t have been so obvious as to grab a steak knife. No, James knows that it’s a distraction but he wants to watch her plan unfold before stopping her.

His sharp eyes meet hers again and they pin her to her seat. She sees his mouth move but she can’t hear the words that come out. She guesses that he dismissed everyone from the way that everyone clears out of the room , leaving them alone. Niklaus shoots her a glance before Sam pushes him out and she gives her brother a small nod.

I’ll be okay.

Niklaus doesn’t fight Sam because he knows that she will be but it does little to calm the rising fear. He nods back.

Be careful.

She smiles at him, covering her sinister plan with sibling love.

Once the door is closed and they are finally alone, Y/N settles her gaze back on James who had been watching the interaction. He sits his glass on the arm of his chair as he looks her over. A twinkle of something positively feral flashes in his eye when he takes in the necklace and dress she is wearing.

“I figured it better to comply,” she offers as she takes a sip of her wine.

“Comply?” he questions, “You make it sound like I’m a tyrant.”

“You’re far worse.”

James lets out a deep laugh that’s more animal like than human, “If I were then your brother’s head would’ve been served for dinner.”

Y/N takes another slow sip of her wine to hide her seething anger at the suggestion.

“And then I would’ve taken you in front of the others.”

She turns to narrow her eyes at him, “What if I said no?”

“You won’t have.”

“How can you be so sure?” The glass of his cup clinks on the table as he sits it on the table before him, “Look at what you’re wearing. I’d say that is a pretty good indication that you wouldn’t say that to me.”

She rolls her eyes at him and sits her own glass on the table. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for her next move. Before James can say another vile thing, she quickly stands and walks to the head of the table. Perching herself on the table just beside him, Y/N gently pushes at the arm of James’ chair. Taking the hint, he moves back an inch and takes her by the hips to pull her in front of him. She had only been this close to him a handful of times but every time it’s just as terrifying as the last. His cold attitude extends to the air that circles him and now her. His scent of leather, guns, and blood engulf her and caress the sides of her face as he watches her every move.

In another life, she knew that she would’ve fallen for him. She could see the charm and confidence that he would use on her to get her into bed. She could see the way that he would shower her with gifts to the point where she would have to beg him to stop. She could see how he would laugh when he kissed up her neck, claiming that she would never have enough and would never stop giving her the world.

However now with the predatory look in his eye, she’s not sure that he would ever be the James that she pictured in her head. This man, the White Wolf, is the image of pure evil down to the way that he lazily smiles up at her, a dark look swimming in his equally darkening eyes.

“Don’t pull anything stupid, little snake,” he murmurs to her as he drinks in the way his name lays on her breasts.

“Who said I was going to do anything?” she murmurs back as she leans down into his space.

“I know that look.”

She bats her lashes at him, fiending innocence and he laughs again, that deep rumble in his chest squeezing the air from her lungs. His right hand makes a slow climb up her arm as she leans down and finds its place on her throat, just above where his name sits on its golden chain. His thumb rubs her jaw, tipping her face down by her chin so he can look at her better. His tongue swipes his bottom lip as he appreciates the red painted on hers.

“We both know you’re not some stupid innocent doll,” he whispers to her, “You’re my little snake, clever and deadly.”

“Are you my White Wolf then?”

James smirks at her question and draws her closer, “That depends.”

“On?”

“If you plan to keep trying to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she whispers against his lips before kissing him. His soft lips move against hers in a slow but domineering way, control every slide and move they make. The hand around her neck slips into her loose hair while his other hand pulls her by the hips onto his lap and slips up on her lower back. Under her, she can feel the hardness forming in his pants and she stifled a moan at the feeling of him moving against her. One of her hands tangles into her hair, pulling at it so his head falls back and she descends upon his neck.

Y/N leaves wet kisses on his jaw and down his neck as they move against each other, gasps and moans leaving both of them. In their desperation to devour each other, James didn’t notice that her other hand was nowhere to be felt on his body nor did he see the flash of silver in the fire light.

“Fuck,” he chokes out when that flash of silver hides a place in between his sixth and seventh rib. Y/N quickly pulls the small dinner knife out and plunges back into the same area. The shock of her attack and the pain that is growing hot in his side stop him from pushing her off or defending himself in other ways.

She pulls away, still sitting on top of him with the bloody knife in her hand and gives him a small smile. He breathlessly chuckles at the sight, “Wouldn’t dream of it?”

“It’s not a dream anymore,” she offers with a small shrug.

James drops his hands from her body as she slides off and lets her knife on the table just out of his reach. The attack on his spleen will cause him to bleed out slowly enough that he will feel every moment of it but fast enough that there would be nothing anyone could do to help him. They both know it and he wants to laugh again at the situation but the pain prevents him from doing so.

“Why?” he asks, almost too quiet for her to hear but she does. She pauses at the door to answer him.

“Spite.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mob au #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #as good a reason bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader

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six-eyed-samurai · 1 month

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LETTERS TO SANEMI

This can be read as a standalone, but if you'd like you can read my previous thoughts on Genya's literacy.

dear aNiki,

kocho gave me a Notebook today aNd told me to write down any after efects or experiNces after eating a demoN iN here but said I should also keep a jourNal to show you oNe day. she gave one to tokito to for his memory loss I thiNk.

she started teachng me how to write receNtly. she said if I caN’t become a hashira or talk to you by the time i've fiNished learNiNg, i can come up with a good apologi letter for you.

himejima-saN is very proud that I'm learNiNg how to write. he was sad he couldn't teach me Himself but Now I can help Him deliver messages he caN't write or Read.

i caN't do aNy breathiNg techNiques, but himjima-saN’s traiNing is iNteNse eNough that i can slay demons eveN without eating them sometimes. maybe i will be able to become the first hashira without a techNique.

Im Not sure yet Of what to write iN here, so thats all for Now. I hope you like the ohagi I seNt you. kocho said she'd pass it for Me.

***

Dear Aniki,

I'm very embarrassed to say this, but when I showed Kocho my writing it turned out I got a lot of things wrong. She was very nice about it when she saw how red I was but couldn't teach me today so the Butterfly Girls had to do it. I think they were too scared to laugh but it's embarrassing anyway to have them know more about writing than I do.

For one apparently I got all my captal (is that how you spell it?) letters wrong. Small letter n and captal letter N are also very different and it's confusing. And I'm glad Himejima-san won't find out I didn't write his name correctly.

The demon I ate the other day left me with a very weirdly shaped hand that hasn't gone away yet, so I'll stop writing for now since it's tiring to hold a pencil with talons. Kocho offered to cut my nails for me but I said no because she was going to use her katana.

***

Dear Aniki,

It really hurt me to find out you threw away my apology letter. I really want to apologize for that night but you keep pushing me away. Are you disappointed in me for joining the Corps or because I can't use breathing techniques? I promise I'll do better.

At least you didn't reject my ohagi. I found out because Tokito was eating it when I met him today. The Mist Pillar is really weird. I didn't know his amnesia was so bad to this state he wandered into the room I was staying in at the Butterfly Mansion thinking it was his. I found him standing by the window holding my gun without moving for about ten minutes. I thought he was a girl for a second so it kind of stunned me into silence. He didn't even notice I was there until I yelled at him to put it down.

It was really awkward at first because I had to explain to him it wasn't his room and he had to explain to me he wasn't a girl, then there was an awkward pause where we just stared at each other. He called me a rooster too…which is still confusing.

I find it really hard to believe he's fourteen and already a Pillar. Jealous, really, because he gets to see you and I don't. Although he called you a wolf and I'm not sure what that means when I asked him where he got the ohagi from and he said the “old white wolf looking Hashira…I forgot. I think I bought it…wait, but I didn't bring any money.”

Somehow I ended up agreeing to his demand of training with him first thing tomorrow to show him how to use a gun. Thankfully the side effects of the demon I ate is gone now.

Kocho told me he'll probably forget about it though.

***

Dear Aniki,

Today's my birthday. Do you miss me as much I do for you? I wish I can still celebrate it with our siblings and mom, or at least with you.

Kinzaki and the Butterfly Girls made me a cake. Kocho gave me a new yukata after I ripped my old one from my last fight. Her tsugoku gave me a coin for whatever reason. But I got really shy and didn't say much.

Muichiro forgot it was my birthday and thought it was Kocho’s, so he gave me her present. He thought it was funny to pin the butterfly to my hair. The girls started giggling at me so I chased him around the Butterfly Mansion.

Himejima-san gave me a cat. She's very cute. I named her Shizu, after mom. She followed me everywhere and even peed on Muichiro’s foot. He said she was stupid but later on I found him carrying her around.

Her white fur made me think of you. If you ever forgive me one day I'm sure you'll love her too. She likes the smell of ohagi too apparently.

***

Dear Aniki,

Rengoku-san the Flame Pillar and Kanroji the Love Pillar came to visit Himejima-san today. Rengoku-san gave me ohagi, so I thanked him but he said it wasn't from him. I'm praying this means you don't completely hate me.

Muichiro came over to Himejima-san’s estate today too by mistake, but he decided to stay and train with me anyway. He asked to see Shizu and that's when I realized she was missing.

How hard could it be to find a snowy white cat? That's what we thought until we (me mostly, Muichiro kept forgetting where he had looked) hunted everywhere for her. Then Rengoku-san said he saw her run pass him and when we looked she jumped off a tree and took off.

I still can't stop turning red whenever I think about how I slammed into Kanroji chasing Shizu, so I immediately ran off with Muichiro. I hope if I meet her again she'll have forgotten about it.

Dumb cat.

***

Dear Aniki,

Today that Kamado kid - the one who broke my arm back at Final Selection after I grabbed the Ubuyashiki girl; hope she doesn't hold it against me - picked up the stack of letters I accidentally dropped. You know it's the anniversary of everyone's death today, so I was planning on taking the letters I've been writing to them to burn. Usually I would just leave flowers and prayers at the shrine Himejima-san helped me make because we never got to bury them, but since Kocho taught me to write I decided to make a new tradition.

Anyway I knew he didn't mean to read them but I got mad anyway until he told me his family died the same way and he was happy that I was still honoring their memory of whatever. I wish me and you were like him and his sister. I wonder what would've happened if we had stayed together? I never meant to hurt you like that.

I don't remember writing any of this. Did I change my handwriting or something? Who's Aniki?

I've just chased away Muichiro. I can't believe he got our notebooks mixed up and started reading mine. I hope he didn't read anything…too personal. Foggy brained idiot just stared at me and left.

He came back later. He didn't apologize but handed me a watermelon. He's forgiven…I guess? I don't even want to know he got it from, especially when I can hear Kinzaki and that pig head boy shouting.

***

Dear Aniki,

Today's the day before the final battle and I don't have much time to write as much as I want to, so I'll make this entry quick.

Muichiro has become a much nicer person, and I've had a lot of fun with him over time. I'm gonna miss training with him and talking and cloud gazing together afterwards. I hope we both don't die. He called me his best friend the other day and although I got really flustered I don't want it to be the last time.

Kocho and the Butterfly Girls celebrated my “graduation” of learning how to write the other day. Maybe one day you'll be able to come and celebrate some other occasion with us.

I will never be able to repay everything Himejima-san has done for me. I owe him for the slayer I am today. I hope the wooden bracelet I carved will be able to convey it. I can write now but I'm no good with words.

I'm really grateful to Kamado and his sister for reminding me during the battle at the Swordsmith Village why I joined the Corps. I'm going to prove myself to you and apologize for once and for all. I don't know what I'm going to do if you keep pushing me away even after all this. I miss you a lot.

I swear we'll be brothers again after this battle.

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minhosimthings · 8 months

Text

Someone Older, Just a Little Bit Colder.

Summary: Yoon Y/N and Lee Minho. Perfect enemies. But when some guns and roses get mixed up with both of them, I wonder what the fates have weaved for their story.

Pairings: Fem!reader × Minho, classic Enemies to Lovers. Includes rest of Skz and other groups

Warnings: lots of violence, blood, murder, guns, swearing, mention of food, mention of dead bodies. There is a lot of violence so please do not interact if you are sensitive to these things.

A/N - I finished this finally. This took a lot of time and it is probably my longest work till date. I took inspiration from an edit I saw on Instagram. So here you go! Please enjoy this and feel free to give me feedback. I don't like some parts of the fic that much tho. Cause I was very lazy when I wrote them.

Song rec:

1: I need someone older

"No, no, no" Mournful voices were surrounding your frame. "No this can't be happening. Please Y/N!" Tears, not yours, dripped onto your skin as something red mixed with it to create a pretty little cocktail. "Fuck princess wake up! Fuck no....."

"Y/N! Come down quick! You've gotta get to school!" Another day of school. How mechanical was your life. In your final year of high school, you'd have thought that your life would have sugar, spice and everything nice. But instead, you got stuck with a robotic schedule, which consisted of waking up, going to school, coming back, food time, homework, checking to see if any colleges had sent you mails and then going back to sleep. But you couldn't really complain, because you were in Jeju Island. Literally everyone here had the same robotic schedule. Well maybe except for the richest people here. Your family was what was known as the middle classes. You lived comfortably, but not too plushily and your mom and dad both had jobs. Your elder sister Jinhee and you basically raised each other and now, with Jinhee, already graduated and married (since she was seven years older than you), you were left all alone in your turquoise room, with white borders and black finishes. It wasn't the fact that you weren't happy or anything. But, as a child of the Cosmos and as a ruler of the skies and tides, you wanted to feel that feeling that people had when they would roll around in the grass, or buy flowers from a sweet old lady, or wear ridiculous nail polish with someone, keeping the stories of the stars to yourself, whenever someone asks 'what did you do last night?'. But wasn't that why fairytales existed? To tell you that getting all those things was nothing but a mere dream? A dream which you hoped would come true? Which you hoped that the universe would understand your heart's desire and grant it to you?

"Be safe alright? Got your pepper spray?" "Yes ma don't worry. Im always safe aren't I?" Your mother kissed your forehead gently before letting to walk off to school, pepper spray in hand, knife hidden up the sleeve of your blue school sweater. The road from your house to your school was one of the safest ones. It was a suburban area, with families like yours lining up the street. You had no problem walking by yourself, and casually greeting the wakening families, with their toddlers and teenagers. You felt safe here and in the rare times there was some danger, you knew you could kick their asses (flashback to that one time you thought your dad was a stranger and accidentally kicked him hard in the shin. He still doesn't forgive you for that)

"Miss Yoon. Are you walking alone your highness?" That voice. That voice was perhaps the bane of your existence (not the object of all your desires. Sue me for using Bridgerton right now). A smooth black car pulled up next to you as you were just a metre away from the school. The windows were rolled down to reveal a young boy, your age with fluffy plum brown hair, cat like eyes, a sharp nose and a smirk on his stupid face. Lee Minho. Also known as the worst person you knew. And no this wasn't an enemies to lovers scenario. It usually is but this? Yeah absolutely not. Lee Minho had been your childhood neighbour since he was six. He lived with his grandparents since he was six, with his parents being in one of the richest families of South Korea and working in Seoul. He also went to your school, which was weird considering he was basically a billionaire and still chose to go to the 'middle class' school along with his his seven friends, who coincidentally were also from the seven richest families of South Korea.

"Oh no Minho. I wasn't walking alone. I have an invisible friend that you can't see from behind those stupidly pretty eyes of yours." You threw him a glare as his smirked just increased in size. "You think my eyes are pretty?" "Oh for fucks sake. What do you want?" "Language, princess." Minho chuckled and unlocked the passenger seat door. "Get in." You let out a chuckle and said "With you? Oh no thank you. I would rather go to Hell and dance with the devil." "Oh come on princess." Minho's face only widened even more to form the face of the devil himself. "You know people who die to even touch my car. You're lucky I'm offering you to ride in it." You rolled your eyes at him. So fucking cocky for no reason. You decided that you couldn't take it anymore and just started walking with a small 'I'll see you at school Minho goodbye now.'. Minho seemed to have taken the sign as he locked his doors, rolled the windows down and sped away to school.

Finally some peace. You breathed in the September air as you watched the Magpies fly around with their mates. You always loved Magpies, courtesy to your dad always encouraging you to birdwatch whenever you were free, with the pink binoculars you had. And today, in the serene September air, it felt good, watching two birds in love fluttering around, probably having a conversation about who knows what. There was that odd feeling in your chest again, that feeling which you pretended wasn't loneliness. People never understood the difference between alone and lonely. Yes you can be alone and you can enjoy it to your fullest. Some of your friends loved to be alone, eating chocolate, reading a nice book, sitting by the rain, all of those aesthetic things those Pinterest people do. You always craved to be like that too, but you never could. And you still had to learn to accept the fact that being basic wasn't a bad thing.

"Babe your foundation isn't blended properly come here. Hasn't Mama Huh taught you anything?" Your best friend Yunjin greeted you at the stairs of your school, with her bright unicorn bag and her perfect makeup as usual. "Sorry sweetheart. I really can't focus today." Yunjin gave you a sympathetic look as she blended the foundation on your neck with her hands carefully. "Is it Lee again? I swear to God one of these days I'm gonna go and tell him that you like him and then he'll confess to you and then this can be an enemies to lovers novel where I'm the sassy, amazing best friend who saves the day." You laughed at Yunjin's rambling. "And I thought Chaer was more delusional than you." "Do I hear my name?" A pretty girl with long black hair and perhaps the greatest jawline in the world came up behind you. Lee Chaeryoung, cousin of Minho and your second best friend, also your prettiest friend (sue me she's my wif- I mean my bias) "Hey Chaer. By the way have you guys completed Mr Hong's assignment?" Yunjin groaned at your words as she pulled out a red copy from her bag and opened it to reveal her messy handwriting. "I stayed up to finish this shit. Why do we need to analyse what a curtain means in Shakespearean language? Like I don't know. It could mean the heroine wants to be at an orgy for all I know." Chaer hit Yunjin's arm as you laughed at went inside the school to go to your English class along with Yunjin. Chaeryoung stalked off in the other direction, to her biology class, as you entered the class, where Mr.Hong wasn't present yet. You always dreaded English period, not because you weren't good in the subject, but because of the seating arrangement. Yunjin would always sit at the back of the class while you were stuck in the front with Minho. You internally groaned as you walked up to your seat, where Minho and Chan were talking to each other. Chan was a good friend of yours since your mom was the head of the Jeju Island branch of his dad's buisness. Curly haired, eyes filled with stars and the most gentle behaviour ever, he came straight out of a goddamn book. You always wondered how he became friends with Minho, considering both of them were as different as chalk and cheese. But then again, they has been brought up together, by their grandparents while their parents would stay in Seoul to run buisness.

"Hey Chan. Did you get those physics notes done yesterday?" Chan greeted at you with than omnipresent smile on his face as he nodded fervently like a puppy. "Yeah I got them done! It was really hard though. I really hope Mrs.Choi is absent today. So she can't call me out on my 'mistakes'." You smiled fondly at Chan as he took his seat on your other side, while Minho toyed with a blue hairband. Your hairband. "Minho where did you get that?" He turned to look at you and gave you that smug smirk again. "Why princess? Is it yours?" You scowled as you reached forward and grabbed the hairband out of his hands and stuffed it into your bag. "Yes it is mine! I think you'd know that considering I have been looking for this ever since the playground incident from when we were seven! Oh but I think you wouldn't remember that would you? Considering you're an ajhussi." It was Minho's time to scowl now and he scrunched up his nose like an angry bunny and stuck his tongue out at you, all while mumbling "I'm only two months older you know.", As Mr.Hong entered the classrooms in his pinstriped shirt and began asking for the assignments.

The rest of the day went as normal. You went to all of your classes, had a gossip-filled lunch with Chaeryoung, Yunjin, Miyeon, Sunoo and Jake, accidentally spilt water over Sunghoon from Chemistry, and got top grades in biology as usual.

Gosh September was good. September was lovely. People don't really get why September was so comforting to you. And to be frank, you didn't get it either. But there was this aura that September had that you couldn't shake. It wasn't just all pumpkin spice lattes or orange scarfs. It was..... Something else. Something you couldn't describe. You know that feeling when you bite into an ice cream cone? It crumbles all over you, but you love that feeling, that crunch combined with the sweet ice cream inside. That's what September was.

The bell rang loudly as school got over and you went over to the the basketball court. Being captain of the girls team, you always needed to stay back after school in order to train your team. "Unnie come quick would ya!" Chaewon, the team's greatest shooter called out to you. "Im not that late today Chaewon. That's a record for me!" Chaewon rolled her eyes as she adjusted her shorts. "Y/N are we gonna discuss some tactics for next week's game then? Cause I drew a lot of shit last night and I don't want it to go to waste." Wonyoung, the team's co-captain was nudging some papers into your hands. You gave her a quick smile as you looked over all the loopy drawings she did. "Oh and girls! Please remember to get your registration documents tomorrow! I really don't want to submit them late to Coach Kim." All your teammates nodded at your words and went on to the court, where to your dismay, Minho and his team were also practicing. You were annoyed. You had booked the court for today and has specifically checked with both of your coaches and yet again, your mortal enemy was playing with his team on what was meant to be your court. "Yah Minho! Get off the fucking court. We have it booked for today!" You gave him the biggest glare that you could muster, while he simply strode up to you, ball in hand, and that stupid smile on his face. "Aww princess. You booked the court for today? Well sad because I booked it earlier. I have a signed consent form from Coach Kim too. So either you can get off the court or we can have a practice game together." You felt like blowing up the earth below his feet right now but you couldn't do anything when he showed you the piece of paper on which Coach Kim had signed specifying that the boy's team could play today. "Fine then. But a practice game? Together? Boys versus girls?" Minho simply nodded at your words as you looked back at your girl standing behind you who were currently looking like they wanted to go to war. Seeing their determination, you extended a hand forward to Minho and in a assertive tone, said, "You're on then Lee. I wanna watch your pretty little face when you lose really badly. So what's the prize then?" You regretted asking that question when you saw Minho's face turning into that evil little smirk again. His team was assembled behind him and now you were a bit scared, considering that your tallest player was the size of their shortest one. "How about........ loser has to take the winner to that nice ice cream place that just opened down the street? And it'll only be us two. You know, captain to captain." Hearing that both your team and Minho's team broke out in high pitched 'ooohs' (yes even the Bois) as if you were doing something scandalous. You had no choice but to accept so you extended you hand again as Minho gripped it with his veiny hands and shook it firmly.

Chan and Chaeryoung were sitting by the stands since neither of them played and you smiled gently at them talking and giggling so fondly. The game started with one of the assistant coaches, Jungwon, refereeing. You were more determined now than you were at last month's regional games. You had to beat Minho and he had to take you to that stupid ice cream place. "Scared princess?" Minho asked as you assembled on the half line. You didn't say anything but threw him a smirk, hoping that it would catch him off guard. "Alright, ready set. Rumble!" Jungwon blew the whistle and threw the ball up in the air as you reached forward and managed to slap it onto your side of the court, where Wonyoung caught it and swiftly passed it on to Chaewon, who was standing by the hoops. You heard Minho scolding Jeongin, who was defending Chaewon, for not blocking her properly as you high fived Wonyoung for the quick pass.The rest of the game pretty much went the same way as you kept using witty tactics while Minho kept using speed and strength, which you knew was his greatest weakness. From time to time, his shirt would fly up ever so slightly and you would get distracted for a split second by his abs (which you scolded yourself for).

"Guys can you stop now please? It's 7:30. I'm going home now and you guys should too before they shut the school gate." Jungwon finally ended the game as you looked over at the scoreboard. You had won! You hugged Chaewon tightly before striding up to a very sweaty Minho who, not even in the slightest, looked defeated. "So, Mr Lee. You owe me ice cream now." He gave you a small smile, which made your heart leap, and said "Of course your Highness. Do you wanna get changed and then we can go? Or would you like to come being all sweaty?" You scowled at him and stuck your tongue out as you made your way to the changing rooms as he shouted behind you, "Meet me at the gate!" You quickly took a shower and changed into the tshirt and yoga pants you usually brought with you to change into after a sweaty game.

"Yah are you going to take me in your dumb car?" You questioned Minho as he pulled up by the gate. Chan had taken Chaeryoung home today so you didn't have anyone to walk you home, which was a plus point (for Minho). "Yes princess. Since the ice cream place is not at a walkable distance, atleast for my feet, we are going in my dumb car. And you don't wana walk home this late Y/N. It's dangerous you know? So get the fuck in and let's go. I'm hungry." You begrudgingly got in the car, silently admiring the sleep leather seats as Minho started the engine and turned the car. "Oh and Chan hyung already informed your mom and dad. They're not gonna come home tonight cause they're busy or something so I'll drive you back if you want." You snapped your head from the flying butterfly outside the window to Minho's concentrated face as you shyly mumbled a 'thank you'.

The drive to the ice cream was long and silent. You simply stated out the window while Minho stared forward, trying not to look at the way the rays of the setting sun fell on your skin or how your hair fell in that particular way that just felt good. Do the boys usually confess first? He didn't know. No he hated you. This is absolutely not fucking happening right now. You were Yoon Y/N, captain if the girls basketball team, annoying neighbour, beautiful mortal enemy. No not beautiful. Get out of it Minho!

"Uh is this the place? Looks cute." Minho's car pulled up near a tiny cafe like building called 'Jureimi's parlor', lit up in bright pink signs. "Oh yeah. I'll just park and we can go." You got out of the car as Minho parked nearby and got out too. "Is that boba flavoured ice cream?" You pointed at a brown coloured ice cream in ghe booth. The lady at the counter smiled at you as she nodded and gave you little sample cup. You offered a bit to Minho, who shook his head and went to find a table. "Get what you want. I'll pay." You rolled your eyes at him. He had to pay anyway for losing the game so badly.

You tasted the ice cream, which tasted like heaven and decided that you wanted this. "Can I get this in a cone please? Two scoops." The lady nodded and told her co worker your order, who went to the back to make it. You noticed some pudding cups on the shelf behind the lady. "Are those puddings?" "Oh yes. They're a new addition really. It's a favourite among all the grandmas here." You pointed at the vanilla one and asked the lady to give you that one, while you handed her the money and she handed you your ice cream and the pudding cup. You strode over to Minho, who was sitting with his legs wide open at the little round table in the corner of the store. "Is that for me?" He pointed at the pudding. "No dumbass it's for the Magpies." He gave you a sarcastic smile and grabbed the pudding cup from your hands. "I only got it for you cause this boba ice cream is expensive. So stop smirking at me." He looked up at you with those cat like eyes and slightly pouted, but remained quiet as both of you savoured on the sweet, sticky food.

"Dude how slow do you eat?" You watched Minho as he has halfway through his pudding, while you had already finished your ice cream. "Just slow enough to annoy you baby." You frowned at his words. "Do not call me that ever again. It's makes me wanna vomit." You made a gagging motion as Minho just simply chuckled. "Fine then. While I finish this amazing pudding, how about we play truth or dare hm? Because our impatient princess can't wait for five seconds without doing anything." You thought for a while before finally saying yes. "Alrightly then." Minho smiled at you. "Y/N. Truth or dare?" You picked truth, which seemed like the only viable option, considering the fact that you were in a shop, and Minho said, "How's your brother?"

Your heart dropped as you heard that sentence. How did he know about that? The blue shade of the shop spun around you as you tried to focus on anything else other than what just came out of Minho's mouth. Silence. Yes silence would work. Just give him a glare and it'll be over. "Oh come on princess. We all know what happened to your brother. I just wanna hear it from you personally." Your blood turned cold as your mind kept feeding you memories of that night. That faithful night. That peace filled night. That night when the Magpies stopped singing and September ran cold once more.

"Fuck you Lee Minho." Saying that, you picked up your bag and got up, slamming the chair to the ground, behind you. The lady at the counter looked up to see you walking about the door, pushing it agressively. "No Y/N wait!" Minho knew he had fucked up now. He had never meant to hurt you like this. He had learnt from Yunjin that you were already over your brother's incident. This was just supposed to be normal mortal enemy banter. How do you still remember? He quickly pulled out some cash and slammed it on the counter to the very shocked lady as he ran out after you. You wouldn't have gotten far. After all, you had to pass the school to get to your house. Minho quickly got in his car and started the engine with a blast. You had also left your headband in the carseat. So, that was another excuse for him to chase after you. He wasn't going to lose you again. Not now. Not when he was so close.

The street was dark and cold, lit up faintly by the wavering streetlights. This wasn't September anymore. You could feel December taking all the love out of September. And as you walked upon the concrete, you could feel the Magpies talking about you. You could feel the crescent moon feeling nothing but pity for you. You could feel all the plants with their bugs, looking at you and saying, "Yoon Y/N. You fucked up again just like you always do." You shouldn't have let your anger take control. But then again, when we deal with anger so long, she never tells us that her actual name is grief. Your brother was supposed to be a closed chapter of your life, but like a faded page of an Agatha Christie novel, he lingered on in your brain. All your family had far moved on, but you loved your twin brother, older than you by 8 minutes, too much to let him go from the dusty cabinets of your brain. You tried to forget his screams on that day and that cold, hard cackling but you couldn't. You were right there. Right in front of all the destruction, when your heart broke into a million pieces. Yet how could you forget such a memory?

"Y/N!" Minho was rolling up with this car next to you as you reached your house. The magenta coloured door was locked, your parents were still out on work. "Minho just fucking leave me alone. And I mean it this time. Don't even fucking talk to me." "Yn would you listen to me? Don't go inside the house!" What was this maniac saying? You stared at his figure getting out of the car and swiftly moving across over the lawn to your figure standing at the front door. "please just don't go inside the house." You noticed some figures behind him and you realised that Chan and his friends Jisung and Changbin were also there. "Minho what the fuck are you doing?" Minho looked at with what you thought looked like an expression of pity. "Just please don't go inside the house."

No you weren't going to listen to him. Absolutely fucking not. The last time you listened to him, you ended up in a mud covered ditch. Not today. "Fuck you and fuck your fucking existence Minho! I'm not listening to one word that comes out of that stupid mouth of yours." Before Minho could stop you and before Chan called out your name, you opened the door with gusto, only to be met, not with the familiar scent of Eau de Perfume but with the stench of iron. Your world came crashing down again. Your parents. Lying dead. On the floor. Of your house. Covered in blood. You were frozen. You couldn't move. A sense of familiarity came over you. You knew this feeling. This feeling of feeling like a thousand icicles had pierced your veins. All that came to your mind was him. No this can't be September. September was his birthday! It can't be this bad. No please don't let September be bad. "Y/N. Princess are you alright?" "Min- Minho. They're- they're not. No." The tears weren't coming. This wasn't sadness this was shock. "Chan hyung can you get her out of here? Jisung call the police. Now. Y/N. Y/N what are you doing!" You had strode up to your parents' bodies. Your mom was covered in more blood than your dad. Your dad looked like he was peacefully sleeping. Your mum's head seemed bashed in. Oh god the smell of blood. That night. All that remained was that night. You were too immersed in looking at your parents, that you didn't notice the creeping black figure in front of you. "So you're their daughter are you?" That husky voice was the last thing you heard before a gun shot, Minho's voice and the thud of your body. There was something warm on your stomach. And gooey. And red. This felt nice, you thought. Dying felt nice. If only he felt like this before....

Chan and Changbin slammed the man who had stabbed you onto the wall, destroying some photo frames in the process. Jisung turned on all the lights and went over to the two other men to get a look at the stranger. Minho, on the other hand, had rushed to your side, picking you up in his arms, towel pressuring the wound on your stomach.

2: Just a little bit colder

"Well well well, Mrs Yoon. How are the children?" Your mother cowered in fear as your elder sister and your dad were tied up next to the fridge in the kitchen. Your twin brother and you were in the clutches of some buff looking men. Eleven years. That's all you were. Eleven fucking years. "Mr. Wang I promise I won't leak the papers. I swear on my children. Please do not harm us." Mr. Wang or whoever he was striding up and down the carpeted room, white papers in his scarred hand. "It's ok Y/Nnie. I'm right here. It's just another November. September will come soon won't it?" Your brother, Doowon tightly held your hand and calmed you down, as your tears threatened to escape from their prison. "Mr. Wang. Please I beg you. Please do not harm me. You have the papers. What more do you want?" Mr Wang smiled at your mother. A cold smile. Shivering and undaunted. "Oh my dear Danbi. I have the papers of course, but you know how I do my work. I do not like bitches who butt their heads into everything. So I want your children to see how their mother is a little bitch." Mr Wang pulled your mother's hair as she screamed and cried out. "Hey don't do that to my mom!" Your borther screamed out as you but the hand if the man who was holding you. Both of you escaped from the clutches of the two men as Mr Wang looked on, slightly amused. "Or what little boy? You gonna beat me up?" Your brother stood his ground, not even daring to break eye contact. "Doowon get back please!" Your mum pleaded with Doowon, but he wouldn't listen. He stepped forward to Mr Wang and stepped painfully on his smooth black shoes. Mr Wang let out a cold laugh as he grabbed your brother by the neck of his shirt. "Grab the little girl too. Let her see how her twin meets with death." A man grabbed you from behind as your family pleaded and you thrashed around, trying to escape. "Let me go!" You screamed as the man took you upstairs while Mr Wang followed with your brother. You reached your bedroom door, which you shared with Doowon and Mr Wang slammed it opened pushing you and your brother inside. "Open that window, Brian." He spat at the man who grabbed you, while you and Doowon stood still. "Now boy. Come here. Come. Here. Now. Unless you want your sister harmed." Doowon looked at you and squeezed your hand before going ever to Mr Wang. And that was the last touch of your brother you had, before Mr. Wang pushed him out of the window on to the green grass below. Your screams had filled the neighborhood, scared the Magpies and threatened September to never come again. September's child,you told yourself. That's all he was. September's child, at the mercy of October.

"She'll be alright Minho. Just give her a few hours. She'll wake up." You were lying on an oak bed with grand purple bedsheets. You had a white sheet wrapped around your waist and your stomach, which stopped blood from coming out of your stab wound. Minho had taken you to his mansion outside of town, where all the sons of the mafias of Korea would hang out. Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, Minho's brother Lee Felix Yongbok, Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin, Yang Jeongin and Lee Minho. Stray kids, they called themselves. Basically abandoned by their workaholic parents and brought up by relatives. "Hyung she'll be fine don't worry. Seungmin's aunt is the best surgeon in the country. She stitched Y/N up all fine." Changbin put an arm on Minho's shivering shoulder. Chan and Jisung were also there in the room, trying to comfort Minho and convince him that you would be fine. "What if she's not ok hyung? What do I tell her when she wakes up? Ho-how do I explain to her how I knew that her parents' bodies would be lying in her floor before she even got home? How do I fucking explain that?" Minho looked up at Chan with teary eyes. Chan was worried. Minho hadn't eaten or drunk water for the whole day, ever since you came out of that four hour long surgery. Never before had he seen Minho's cold face so filled with emotion. "Minho listen to me. You can explain everything to her once she wakes up. I called her sister and she'll be coming over in three days from Busan. Now please. You've got to eat something or drink water atleast. I promise you, Y/N will understand if you speak to her properly. Now come on, let's get some breakfast. It's 8 am in the morning. The boys would have woken up by now." Minho listened silently to Chan's words and simply nodded. Words weren't coming out anymore as he slowly got up from his chair and let go of your hand. Taking one last look at you, the boys left the room, all the while commanding two bodyguards to stand outside the door, making sure no one else can even come near you.

"Y/Nnie! Look what I can do!" "That wasn't a proper cartwheel Doowon, it doesn't count!" "Atleast I can do a cartwheel." "Yah don't stick your tongue out at me! Jinhee unnie! Doowon's making fun of me!"

'Do you remember? Twenty first night of September? Love was chasing the minds of pretenders.' "Happy birthday Doowon! I got a CD of your favourite song!" "Thanks Y/Nnie. Let's listen to this song on my birthday every year!"

Purple sheets? This was not your bed. Your bed had dinosaur sheets and made a rickety noise every time you moved. You noticed the white tape wrapped carefully around your waist and dared not touch it. You tried to remember what day it was and where you were as you slowly moved and leaned comfortably against the bed frame, groaning slightly as your stomach was hurting. Gosh what day was it? Was it still September? Or did October come to take you away again?

Lost in your thoughts, you looked around the room, trying to figure out whether you were still in Jeju Island or not. You noticed a drawer close to the bed. Curious, you opened the drawer, to find your phone, a bracelet and a picture of a you and Minho in your jerseys. That bracelet. It was the one which your brother had made for you. Which you hadn't seen ever since that day. And the picture was the one which was taken when you and Minho were elected captains of your basketball teams. You grabbed your phone hurriedly as you realised that this had to be Minho's house. You had to get out. Now. Your memory was coming back to you and you remembered the events that had unfolded the night before. Blood. The smell of iron. The blade of a knife. The tears of a plum brown haired boy.

You threw the sheets off of yourself and made to get up. Stupid decision, you told yourself as the moment your feet hit the floor, you fell down witha loud thud. "OUCH!" you cried out loudly, hoping that this was a soundproof house. Probably not, because five seconds later, you heard footsteps coming down to your door. The oak door swung open with a loud crash to reveal a panic stricken Minho, who had dark circles under his eyes, a worried looking Chan, who was clutching a half finished piece of toast and a very confused Seungmin, who was holding a cup of coffee in his hand. "I knew I shouldn't have left your clumsy ass alone." Minho grumbled as he made his way to you and gently lifted you up, taking care not to touch your injury. You should have probably thrashed around, but for the sake of not accidentally injuring yourself even more, you resisted, as Minho put you back on the head and flicked your forehead painfully. "Yah!" You exclaimed rubbing your forehead. "Ok first of all, where the fuck am I? Second of all, what the fuck am I doing here? Third of all, I know my parents are dead now, so what I am going to do?" You directed the last question at Chan, who scratched his hair and glanced at Seungmin, who was looking at you as if you were his hero. "You know noona, you can come stay with me if you don't wanna stay in Minho's hyung's house." Minho glared at Seungmin as Chan took him by the arm and forced him out of the room, before saying "Minho explain everything. And no I will not help you stop pouting." He slammed the door, leaving Minho and you all alone. All alone in this wood carved room. All alone to face September together. "Alright" Minho took in a deep breath. "Im going to explain everything to you princess. But you will not fucking interrupt me, got it?" You opened your mouth to fire something back at him, but you decided against it in the last moment and quietly nodded. "Alright here goes. First of all I am really sorry for bringing up your brother. I know it was an asshole move and I thought you'd have forgotten about it. Clearly you didn't so I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Second of all, yes your parents are dead. Im sorry Y/N but they are. We informed your sister, she'll come in a few days from Busan. And the reason I knew that your parents were dead and tried to stop you was because my cousin killed your parents." Pause button. Wait what?

"Minho what are you talking about? If this is some kind of joke I will seriously kill myself right here and right now." Minho looked at you with an expression of pure sympathy. "It's not a joke Y/N. You know your mom is the head of the Jeju Island branch of Chan's parents' buisness right? Well all our businesses are connected. And one day when you were a child, your mother had found some papers which proved that my family was in illegal work. My family was ready to forgive her but my cousin, Jackson, wasn't. All those papers were related to his dealings and he wasn't happy that a mere woman had found out about it. So one day, without my parent's knowledge, he found out about your family and well. I think you know the rest don't you?" Too many things. Too many things for your brain to process as it went back to that night. Mr Wang. Jackson Wang. Pretty name, you thought, as you tried to bring his face back to your memory. Scarred. That's all you remembered. Scarred face, scarred mouth, scarred hands grabbing your brother by the cuffs on his shirt. "Chan had found out first. You know him having contacts and all. And when he told me about it, there was this thing inside of me that told me that your parents were probably already dead. I know my cousin pretty well. And he isn't one for patience." "But what did my mom do now?" Minho sighed at your question. "She, she found out some more information about Jackson and she decided to step up. But we all know what happens to heroes don't we?" Your breathing had gotten more steady now and your hands had stopped shaking. Sadness wasn't arriving for you. Not yet. Was it September? Or was it because you never actually knew your mother and father? Because thinking about it, you actually never did.

"Y/N I think it's time to tell you what my parents actually do. What all the boy's parents actually do. We run an underground syndicate over the whole of South Korea. We own every piece of land in Korea. We have information about every person existing in this country. And I want to tell you that your mom was actually one of the most important people for our 'buisness'. She wasn't just some head of the Jeju Island branch. She was a personal spy for my father and mother, put here along with your dad, to spy against, uh, some people." Your head hurt even more with all the information that Minho was unloading on you. You held your head in your hands and massaged your temples gently. Minho looked slightly worried at this and nervously asked, "You ok princess? Want some breakfast?" Oh gosh his lips. "Or a doctor? You know what I'll get a doctor. Chan hyung will say no-" Those lips looked so kissable" "- but what if you don't feel well later on a faint and then you become even more sick-" Don't kiss him Y/N don't you dare. "-and then I'll have to marry you and take care of you foreve-"

Yep you couldn't keep it to yourself anymore. "I wanna kiss you." You blurted out, instantly cringing and regretting your words and Minho turned his head towards you, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in surprise. "This is adream right? Oh shit I had too much coffee." You were surprised at his words. Wait did he dream of this in a regular basis or what? Or were in you in a coma and this was all in your head? You slightly moved in the bed and as your stomach slightly hurt, you thought, yes definetly not a coma. "Or you could just get me some breakfast? Im hungry and in pain right now." "O-oh yeah I'll just tell t-the guys to get you some. K cool bye Y/N! See you later definetly don't wanna kiss you haha bye!" You were in a state of euphoria as Minho left the room, a blushing mess. Did you just make the Lee Minho blush and stutter? Oh you could jump in joy right now. Well if you could jump. Was this wrong, you thought. Not feeling sad even though your parents had just died? Or were you too familiar with sadness, that meeting her wasn't a big deal anymore?

The door opened again after fifteen minutes to reveal a blonde- haired boy with the most prettiest eyes you've ever seen, carrying a breakfast tray, followed by a taller long haired boy, who looked like he came straight out of those anime comics you read. "Hey noona! Here's some breakfast! Are you feeling better now?" The blonde haired boy, who had a very deep voice, said in a cheery tone. You considered asking him if he was a pixie or an angel because God did he emit that vibe. That positive vibe that just made you wanna pick some flowers and braid them in someone's hair. "Oh hello there. Um thank you for the food. Im sorry if it was of any inconvenience to you." This time, the long haired boy responded instead, saying "Oh no Noona it's fine. Minho hyung would kill us, well specifically me, if, according to his words 'you felt any discomfort', so please eat up. Im Hyunjin by the way and this is Felix." "Im Y/N. Yoon Y/N. But I'm guessing you already knew that?"

"Well of course we know about you. Minho hyung doesn't stop talking to me about you." Jisung had just appeared at the door, dressed in a leather jacket with leather pants, making him look like a biker. "He literally talked to me about your favourite ice cream flavour for five house noona I'm not joking. So please would you tell him you like or something so that I can get out of this hellhole of listening to him?" You were slightly taken aback by Jisung's words and as he plopped and deflated onto the purple couch, you looked at him with a curious expression, "Oh I'm Jisung by the way. Minho's amazingly talented best friend." You heard Hyunjin mutter something along the lines of 'he forgot to add annoying'. "Um I have a lot questions that Minho didn't properly answer. May I ask them,if you don't mind?" You directed this question at Felix, who looked ecstatic at the thought of answering questions, as Hyunjin pulled up two chairs. "Yeah of course Noona! My brother is really vague so please forgive him for that." You smiled at Felix's words about Minho. "Ok first of all where are we right now?" "We're in the outskirts of Jeju Island. This is Minho's hyung's mansion. Well technically our mansion, but my parents are the ones who own it. It's really old and no one cares about it. So we carry out our, er, operations here." Seeing Felix say all that was like seeing a chick with a knife. "So do all of you have like different jobs here? Like in the books and movies?" Hyunjin chuckled at that. "Minho hyung told us you liked suspense literature. Well to answer your question, yes we do have different jobs here. Chan hyung is kind of like our leader. He basically gives all the contacts and manages our profile and connections. You know all the administration shit. Changbin hyung and this idiot over here-" He gestured towards Jisung who gasped dramatically, "-they are our muscle and also so the money work. Lix over here does all the hacking work since his parents trained him and also since he's obsessed with gaming." Felix turned red at that, "Seungmin and Jeongin are our snipers. They are really young but I mean none of us really had an actual childhood. I run the interrogation work. And Minho hyung basically does everything. He doesn't really have a designated position." The way Hyunjin said all of that in the most casual tone weirded you out. He talked as if he was talking about morning coffee, as if it completely normal and nothing suspicious. You smiled awkwardly at Hyunjin who simply stared out the window at the sunlight. "Are all of you so gorgeous over here?" You blurted out, to which Jisung choked on his own saliva, Felix blushed pink and Hyunjin blinked multiple times. "I mean unless you count Jisung out, then yeah all of us are really pretty." You laughed at Hyunjin's statement to which Jisung looked like a furious squirrel.

"Yah Yongbok, Hyunjin are you coming down?" You heard Minho shout from below. "Oh gotta go. Anyways it was nice talking to you noona! I think Minho hyung called the doctor to come in the evening, so you should probably rest up until then. Oh and-" Felix paused for a moment and pulled out a sketchpad from nowhere. "Don't tell Minho I have you this. He told me you like to draw so I sneaked this in here." With that, all of them left you in the room, with a sketchpad, your phone and September's tunes.

You wiled away the hours by drawing the room around you. You tried to draw Hyunjin, Felix, Jisung and Chan too. The house was quiet apart from the voices of whom you assumed was Jeongin and Seungmin talking very loudly. But something was distracting you. That bracelet. The bracelet lying on the bedside drawer. You knew that bracelet very well. It was the bracelet which Doowon had made for you when you were eight or so. And you hadn't ever seen it ever since that night. So what was it doing here? Minho had told you that his cousin and his family don't talk at all, so how was this bracelet here? Was Minho lying? No he wouldn't do that. Yes mortal enemy things but you didn't think this man would be crazy enough to kill. You picked up the bracelet and twirled it in your hands. It was pretty, with gold lining the thing.

You noticed something on one of the biggest pink beads of the bracelet. The bead was... Open? It had a line tracing it as if it was a Pokemon ball, ready to split at any moment to reveal your Pokemon. Curious, you dig your nails into it to open it up. After a few minutes of difficulty (and you almost giving up), you managed to open the ball up. Inside was a tiny piece of folded paper. It was so tiny indeed, that you wondered how someone had managed to fold it. You dug the paper out and unfolded its many layers of folds. This definetly wasn't there when your brother had so lovingly made it for you. The paper was faded, but still looked relatively new. There were some words on it typed out in red, black and blue. The words:.

Yoon Doowon

Birth: September 21, 2005 (Age: Unknown)

Job: Hitman, Ally, Possible heir

Status: Alive

3: Take the weight off his shoulders

'Do you remember 22st night of September? Love was chasing the minds of pretenders all while dancing the night away."

"God boss can you turn that off? It's been playing for an hour now." A stout man, dressed in tight black clothes, which fitted his muscles was sitting spread eagle on a nice blue cushion chair. Sitting in front of him on a much more bigger chair, was a man dressed elaborately in a white mink stole, a pristine white suit, with rings of all colours adorning his fingers, and a big black brooch on a golden chain stuck to his suit. "I won't turn it off until the chorus Brian. You know I love this song don't you? And you shall listen to it until your ears bleed out." Brian groaned and leaned back in his chair. "When is Mr Wang coming?" The man asked Brian. "It's possible he'll be arriving in a few minutes sir. But don't worry. I have intel that he got the job done well and good." "And the little rat? What about her?" Brian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well she might have gotten away. Lee's gang was there." The man threw his long hair back and threw off the stole, a frown and a red scar decorating his handsome face.

They were in a large room, an office, but it looked more like a King's throne room, where there were chairs for the ministers and wine glasses all decked with pink fluid. There was no door, but a few handing blue beads, which tinkled every now and then. "How could she have gotten away? Who did you send to kill them?" "I sent our best assassin sir." The man scoffed. "Well, clearly he wasn't the best. Does he have family?" Brian nodded in response to the question. "Good. Kill them." "Of course sir."

The blue beads tinkled as a heavily scarred man came into the room along with two bodyguards. "Mr Wang." The white draped man bowed deeply to Jackson who bowed back, only a bit. "Well well well Doowon. You did good. Your parents are dead. This deserves a toast. Shall we?" Doowon smirked at the man and got a green bottle from underneath the table. "Only the finest whiskey for you Mr Wang." Jackson chuckled coldly, taking a glass from the table and extending it forward to Doowon. "But-" Doowon said as he slowly uncorked the bottle. "I do not wish for your bodyguards to be here. You know how the Lee Family works? Even the most trusted allies can turn into back stabbers when their money is involved. " If Jackson Wang was startled, he didn't show it on his face. Instead he motioned for his guards to leave the room, who followed suit, although with a little uncertainty. Brian also left the room, leaving the two scarred men alone.

"Well then a toast. To me and you. Buisness partners." Doowon raised his glass in unison with Jackson, who drank up the whiskey quickly. "Mr Wang I have something to tell you." Jackson looked up at the younger man and waved his hand as if to say 'go on'. "First of all I just want to thank you for taking me in that night, when everyone thought I was dead. You were so ever so good with your observations to notice that I was only playing dead. And then you trained me and everything so thank you for that. And for telling me the truth about everything." Jackson simply nodded. He felt a sharp jab in his stomach and his head started to stir. Doowon was going out of focus now and in what seemed like a split second, Jackson Wang rolled off of the chair, onto the floor. Dead. "But I wanted to tell you sir." Doowon spoke to the limp body on the floor. "That I would like to take over by myself now. You're getting too old and I don't want you to interfere in my personal matters."

"How do you feel now Y/N? Better?" A pretty older woman was checking up on you. She wore a doctor's coat with the nametag 'Dr Kim' on it. She was Seungmin's aunt, the surgeon who had saved your life. "Well the pain has subsided a bit Dr.Kim. I still feel a bit dizzy every time I move, but I think I'm good now." Dr Kim warmly smiled at you as she checked your heartbeat. "Well in any case, I think you'll be fine by tomorrow. You can even walk around tomorrow if you like. But for now, just get some more sleep. I'll tell Minho and the boys not to disturb you alright?" Dr Kim gently squeezed your hand and packed up her equipment. She spoke to you as if you were her own child, with such delicate words and a comforting voice, something that your mother never gave you. "Um Dr Kim? Could you ask Minho to come up here please? If you don't mind?" "Of course honey! I'll ask him. Take care now." She gently kissed your forehead and went out the door.

"You wanted to see me?" Minho was dressed in a blue shirt, slightly open at the top and white pants. He looked so.... refined. And hot, exactly like a K drama CEO. God damn he looked delicious. Don't lick your lips. Do not lick your fucking lips Y/N. "Yeah I have some questions." Minho groaned as he shut the door and came forward to sit on the bed. "What now?" "Where did you get this bracelet?" You held up the bracelet to Minho, who looked at you, perplexed. "That's my bracelet, for your information. My mother gifted it to me. It's been in my family for centuries." Wait what now? "Minho stop fucking lying would you? My brother gave me this as a surprise gift when I was ten. And it went missing ever since the day he fucking died! So could you please tell me where the fuck you got this? Or I'm getting out of this bed and asking Chan." "Woah there princess." Minho looked at you, worried at your outburst. "Alright don't get out of bed please. I don't want you bleeding out and dying. But I'm telling the truth. This is the bracelet my mother gave me when I was twelve. It's been passed on from generation to generation in the Lee Family. It's a special bracelet, because it has these tiny chits inside the beads, telling the person who opens it who the next leader of, well, underground South Korea is going to be."

Too much information again. Number one, you could not stop staring at Minho's pretty pink lips. Number two, why did the chit inside the bead have your brother's name? And why did it say that he was alive?" "Wh-who puts the chits inside of this?" You asked Minho, carefully hiding the chit inside of your hand. "Well my uncle Wang dies. Jackson's dad. His great great great grandpa was the one who made this bracelet. So he has the right to choose the heir." "Minho I think you need to see this." You handed Minho the faded chit. He looked at it for a solid fifteen seconds before looking at you, blinking rapidly, just like how he does whenever someone surprises him. "Y/N oh fuck. Shit come on get up. Quick. I'll help you." "Wait Minho what? What happened?" You asked Minho as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, supporting you as you slowly got out the bed, and onto your legs. "Y/N we need to get to a safer place. If- if what this chit says is true, you're in more danger than I thought." "Wait Minho stop. Would you stop for a moment? Minho- Lee Minho!" You shouted his name, which made him stop in his tracks, arms still supporting your waist, even though you could still walk fine. "Would you please explain to me what's going on?" "Come down to the hall." Minho sighed and told you. "The boys, except Chan hyung, don't know either. So I can tell them and you at the same time. It'll be easier won't it?"

You nodded, not saying anything. Your mouth was dry and words were not escaping it. Gosh September was meant to be good. Why was it so full of surprises?

"Yah Minho Hyung! Auntie told noona can't get up until tomorrow." Seungmin said to Minho as both of you cam doen the stairs. All of the boys were pin the living room, immersed in their own work. Seungmin and Jeongin were playing chess and Chan was on his laptop as usual. "Chan hyung. I think I've figured out who the Mink Thief is." Chan's head snapped from his laptop to Minho so fast, that you swore you heard a cracking sound. The other boys' attention was also now on Minho. "Are you joking or are you actually telling the truth right now?" Minho smiled at Chan's words and set you down on the couch next to Changbin gently. "No I am not joking. Look at this." He handed Chan the bracelet and the chit, which Chan twirled in his gorgeous fingers, all the while looking at it as if it was some alien substance. "Oh fucking hell. Not him?" Minho nodded at Chan's exasperated words as Chan slumped in his chair, setting his laptop down on the table. "Can anyone explain what's going on please? Minho hyung?" Felix asked. "Alright bitches-" "language Minho" "Hyung stop being so old. Alright bitches listen up. So first of all let me introduce you to a man named Yoon Doowon, also known to us as The Mink Thief, who has been sending our families threats for a long time, also know to Y/N as her dead brother." "Yah! Rude!" "Anyways, one thing that Chan hyung found out a few days ago is that The Mink Thief has been in contact with my cousin, Jackson, ever since the day of Y/N's brother's murder. Also Y/N," he paused at looked into your eyes. "Whatever I'm about to say next will probably shock you so please don't faint out of surprise." You looked at Minho with the best offended eyes you could.

Minho then continued in a much more serious voice, "Yoon Danbi, Y/N's mom has been a spy for my family ever since I was born. Her and her husband had been placed here in Jeju Island along with their only daughter Yoon Jinhee, for an important mission. But soon, people grew suspicious of how both of them would act all the time, leaving their daughter alone for such long periods of time, coming home late at deadly hours and blah blah blah. So, in order to make their family seem much more 'normal', they took in two children. Choi Doowon and Jeon Y/N." "Minho what the fuck are you saying right now." Why were there so many surprises? Was your entire life a lie? Were you adopted for some stupid mission or something? What kind of Marvel shit was this? "Yeah this is why I said, don't faint out of shock." Minho slightly chuckled as Chan looked at repramandingly. "Look yes it's true your parents aren't your real parents. But the thing is your didn't even have parents. You came straight from the orphanage. So when my family took one look at you, someone with no background information which can be traced, they thought you were perfect for this mission. I mean, think of it Y/N, haven't you ever saw your parents hiding any documents from you or getting afraid when you asked for your birth certificate whenever you needed to register for your basketball games?" Yes, when you thought about it, they did do that.

"Hyung don't you think you should have had this conversation somewhere more private?" Felix looked from your distraught face to Minho's. "We probably should have but I have shit to tell all of you too." Minho said to his younger brother. "When Doowon supposedly died that night, Jackson Wang got a new partner in crime. Doowon was probably still alive. I know that no one can survive a fall like that, but I seriously don't know how he survived. So what I'm assuming from this tiny chit here, is that Jackson probably told Doowon the truth about his true parentage and all, and then like a basic villain, Doowon wanted revenge and now Y/N's life is basically a fantasy novel." "Ain't that right?" You scoffed. "My entire fucking life is a lie. I mean is my name even Y/N? Are we just living in a hallucination? What if all humanity is meant to do is just live our boring lives until a giant space turtle comes along and kills us all?" "That would be a cool way to die." Jisung said, not even a bit surprised by your rambling. "Jisung." Chan looked at Jisung with a glare. "Alright listen up everybody. Now that the sad backstory is out the way, we need to get down to buisness. First of all we need to get Y/N somewhere safe. Well safer. So Y/N, would you be willing to go along with Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin?" You nodded at Chan, who looked very relieved. "Great. Felix, Hyunjin, would both of you search out if Vernon's mansion is still protected and everything? " Felix and Hyunjin replied 'yes' to Chan and quickly went out the room. "Um noona we should get going. Can you walk by yourself?" Seungmin stood up and extended a hand to you, which you gratefully took and got up. "Yeah I can walk don't worry. Um where are we going?" Seungmin smiled at you, revealing his braces. "Don't worry about that. Just follow me to the car."

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting in the back of a Bentley with Jisung, with Seungmin driving and Jeongin stared out the window, sitting quietly in the passenger seat. "You're lucky Minho hyung gave us his car noona." Jisung commented. "He never even lets us touch it. But then again, we're with you, so I guess that makes up for it." You looked at Jisung's wavy hair and thought to yourself that how can a sweet boy like him, be Minho's best friend. "Jisung, when you said Minho doesn't stop talking about me to you guys, what exactly does he talk about?" "Oh noona I could write an entire seven book Series about that " Seungmin responded instead of Jisung. "He doesn't ever stop talking about what your favourite song is, or what you wore today or how your hair falls in such a perfect way. And when we tell him to just tell you that he is pathetically in love with you, he sulks and says that he would rather kill himself." Well that was certainly surprising. "Oh we're here." Jeongin said, as the car pulled up to a massive iron gate, which had the letters C, H and V on it. What it was guarding was a massive black mansion, which looked very much like a vampire's lair, covered in vines of ivy with a statue of bat hanging out in the big yard. "Chwe Hansol. Also known as Vernon. This is his mansion. He's a good friend of Chan Hyung's and he lets us use the mansion whenever we want. It's the safest place in Jeju Island so we'll be good here noona." Jisung told you, as you stepped out of the car. The mansion looked so ethereal and as you walked into the yard through the gate, you wondered if this was the mansion which was described in the story of the vampire Carmilla. You lived and breathed for that story and you were excited at the thought of hiding in a place which looked exactly like Carmilla's mansion, where she took the blood of her lover, weeping over her body, and complaining about her death.

The boys pushed open the big dual doors of the mansion with difficulty, but not before Jisung had entered a pass code on the tiny keyboard thing which was on the right side of the door. This was indeed Carmilla's mansion, you thought as you entered the big living room, which was decked from head to toe in gold and silver. There was a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling, along with busts of some vague looking people.

"Gosh this is so pretty." You said to Seungmin, who smiled and said "Wait till you see the ball room." You were about say 'theres a ball room here?' when suddenly the lights went out. "Ah fucking hell. Guys stay here with noona. I'll go and see what's wrong." You heard Jisung's voice. "I don't think you need to do that, my dear Mr.Han." you heard a cold voice, which didn't belong to any of the boys. "Who's ther-" Before Seungmin could finish his sentence, you felt a hit to your head, and you blacked out, before hearing Jisung shout, "Noona!"

"Y/Nnie. Wake up." Doowon said in a sing song voice. The boys were tightly tied up to the chairs, with cello tape around their mouths. You were also tied up to the big blue cushion chair, with Doowon, standing in front of you, wearing a red coat and that mink fur stole. He had three bodyguards with him, all buffer than Changbin, all carrying guns and all looking scary as fuck. "Y/N wake up you stupid bitch." Doowon slapped your face painfully, which made you slightly stir. "Hey don't do that she's injured!" Jisung shouted out, having managed to chew through his cello tape. Doowon looked at Jisung with a sarcastic smile and said nothing, while one of the bodyguards punched Jisung. "Doowon?" You had woken up and the surroundings were appearing more clearly now. Your stomach hurt so much and your brain was still fuzzy, except for your dead brother standing in front of you, smirking. "Oh hey Y/Nnie. You miss me?" He asked you in a cold voice you didn't recognise. Never September. This was not September's child standing in front of you. This wasn't September's child, who used to chase butterflies and gift you cute little stones, standing in front of you. "Doowon you're alive." You managed to cough out some words, along with a bit of blood. "Ahh yes I am. I assume your stupid boyfriend already told you what happened to me. So I'm going to skip over the part where I explain shit to you." He let out a cold laugh which made you flinch. "Doowon this isn't you. What are you doing?" You asked him, tears welling up in your eyes. "This isn't me? No Y/N this is me. I've been lied to my entire life and Jackson Wang told me the truth. He taught me the way to survive in our world. He's dead now by the way. Just like our 'parents'." "Doowon please. Stop this lunacy! Atleast let the boys go they haven't done anything wrong!" Doowon leaned down to your level and lifted your chin with his finger. You shivered at his cold touch. "Aww Y/N. Always so fucking innocent. Baby the boys are leverage. Soon the rest of the boys will be here and then after some introductions, I can finally rule all of South Korea." Your tears had escaped now as you looked over at the boys, who were knocked unconscious by the bodyguards. You felt like the most lowest human being on earth, when you looked at Jeongin's bleeding lip, wondering what Chan's reaction would be when he arrived here. "Brian! Go check if the doors are open please. I want them all to waltz in here and call for these pathetic boys. And then we'll hit them where they don't even know it hurts. Maybe we'll start with this one." He moved over to Jeongin. The man named Brian laughed and winked at Doowon. "I'll get the door sir." He moved out the room swiftly.

Fifteen minutes had passed. Fifteen silent minutes. This was silence which you did not enjoy. Silence was sweet in September, when only the Magpies chirped. But now, as you watched Jeongin and Seungmin slightly stir, silence became bitter. "Is Brian not coming? You!" Doowon shouted at one of the guards. "Go out and see where he is! Does it take this much time for the rascal to come back?" The guard obeyed and made to get up from his seat on a rickety wooden chair. BANG! A bullet shot went through the guards head, and as he slumped to the ground, with a pool of blood around his head, Doowon screamed and grabbed Jisung by his chin. "You! What have you done!" Jisung merely smirked at him as Doowon lay frozen there, staring at the body. "Oh for fucks sake what are both of you doing?" Doowon spat at the two remaining guards. "Go upstairs and check if the rats have entered the house already!" The guards nodded their heads fervently and went off in opposite directions, only to be met with two gunshots. The door burst open, as Minho and the remaining boys barged in.

"Doowon." Minho said coldly to Doowon, who merely smirked, trying to hide the fact that he had peed his pants a bit. "Well you found me didn't you? Good job Minho. You know Mr Wang told me how your family works. So I'm honoured that I'm actually getting to experience a member of the great Lee family trying to kill me." You were disgusted by his words. Where did your sweet Doowon go? Where did the boy whom you had cried for day and night go? "Let the boys and Y/N go. Now Doowon. And we won't have any consequences." Chan said to Doowon. He looked furious. You hadn't ever seen Chan like this. "Oh you can take the boys first and then I'll give you Y/N." Hearing that, Changbin and Hyunjin hurried forward, untied the boys, who were concious by now and supported them on their arms, as they carried them back to safety.

"Now Y/N's turn. Give her back to me Doowon and maybe you won't end up choking on your own blood tonight." Minho's voice made your heart go warm. He had nothing but cold fury in his voice. If you thought you had seen his anger on that one particular basketball match in Busan, you were mistaken.

"Now why would I do that? Sweet little Y/N is all ok tied up to his chair aren't you Y/Nnie?" He pulled your hair and kicked you hard in your stomach, which made you cough out blood. Yep, the stitches in your stomach had probably opened up. Fuck no, not now. Don't die in September. Let me wait for October. October seemed more comforting now. The Magpies had their babies in October. Im October, you could get boba on discount. In October, you could hand out with your friends whenever you want. In October, Minho would turn a year older. Wait how did you know that? Why was this room so fuzzy? Hey Minho's face. His beautiful face. It was going out of focus now. Good way to die isn't it. You hoped death came to you, wrapped in white silk and picked you up in her arms like a baby and put you in a cradle. A cradle painted orange and yellow. A cradle with Magpies on it. A cradle which loved all the months equally. But especially October. Especially October.

"Doowon, stop that! Stop fucking hurting her!" Minho screamed at Doowon. You were blacked out now and as Minho looked at your gently sleeping figure, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. "And what if I don't? What will you do oh great Lee Minho? I have her in my arms and I can do anything I wa-" That was the last thing Minho heard before all he saw was Doowon's dumb face, struck with shock, bullet hole in his big head, blood staining his already red suit and his stupid mentality finally gone from this world. "Good job Minho. Now come on let's get Y/N. Guys get Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin to the car. We'll get Y/N." Chan told the others, while Minho had already strode over to you. He hurriedly untied the ropes around your arms and legs and got you to his arms, fingers looking for your wrists, to check your pulse. Tears were coming out now. Tears he never knew would come for you. He loved you. So much. So much it was honestly pathetic. The way you scowled everytime you saw him, the way your eyes lit up whenever you got a high test score, the way you cherished December for your birthday, the way you existed. He loved everything about you. And he can't lose you. Not now. Not ever.

"Feeling good kitten?" You had woken up in Minho's house again, with Dr Kim checking your heartbeat and adjusting your blood pump. "Minho." You managed to breath out weakly, making Minho's heart drop again. He was quick to stand up and cup your face in his arms gently as tears poured out of your eyes. "Hey hey hey don't cry." He said so gently, in a tone which he never used with you. "No Y/N. Shh. I've got you. You're safe. You're safe." He hugged you gently, supporting your head with his hands as you silently sobbed into his shirt. Once you pulled away, you noticed that his shirt was wet from all the crying and that his eye bags were more prominent. "Im sorry. I'm so sorry Minho. I-I really didn't know about..... about him and I caused you all this trouble. I am so sorry." "Hey hey princess. Y/N listen to me." You looked into his eyes, which were twinkling into yours. "None of it is your fault. You hear me? None of it. If anything, I should have told you all that I know earlier but I couldn't. Because- because I- I love you Y/N." That was it. That's all it took. That's all it took, for your eyes to widen, your hands to reach up to his jaw and for your lips to meet his, in a slow dance accompanied by the melodies of the Magpies outside, celebrating that you two had finally realised your love for each other. You pulled away after what felt like a very short time, but you were running out of breath. Minho and you stared at each other for a while and then burst into giggles. "That felt nice princess. You sure you haven't kissed anyone before?" You slapped his chest playfully as you said "Yah! Don't make me think back about being your girlfriend Lee Minho." Minho's eyes lit up and he stuttered out "Girlfriend? Yep I'm in a dream someone pinch me." You rolled your eyes as you pinched him and he let out a tiny scream. "Oh stop so dramatic. How long was I out by the way? And are the boys alright?" "You were out for two days now kitten. And the boys are good. Jisung is saying he finally got his 'Wattpad best friend gets kidnapped moment' and I think Chan told Dr Kim to double his dosage of sleeping pills so now he's crashed out. And snoring loudly."

"Noona you're awake!" Felix had come into the room, well more like bounced into the room along with the rest of the boys, Seungmin sporting a cast, and Jeongin having a pink band-aid on his lip. Felix hugged you tightly while Chan hugged Minho. "Lix let her go. She needs to breath." Chan said to Felix, who had been hugging you for a long time now. "Seungmin, Jeongin are you guys ok now? I am literally so sorry." Jeongin smiled at you sweetly, his fox like eyes forming crescents and said, "We're good noona. Technically we should be asking you that question. And it's fine please don't apologise." He bowed a bit to you and as you tried to bow back, whilst sitting, Hyunjin said, to Minho "So hyung. Have you finally got your ass together and asked noona out?" Minho glared at Hyunjin as everyone else in the room laughed. "You will be getting your mouth stuffed tonight Hyunjin. And yes I have asked her out. And now she's my girlfriend." "Yah who said I was your girlfriend?" You jokingly said. "Ok I'm gonna ask Jisung out then." Minho said standing up.

Four years later

You had been living with Minho for four years now, as his live-in Girlfriend. He had introduced you to his parents, who had been nothing less that kind to you. They had first apologized profusely for the whole Doowon incident, to which you told them that you really didn't care. You had Minho with you and all of your past had slowly faded away.

And every year as October and September came, you learnt to cherish ,not the month, but the memories you made every day. You learnt to forever keep memories of you, your boyfriend, your friends and everyone around you. You learnt how to let go of grief easily.

And when Minho proposed to you, on the twenty first night of December, you learnt, you just needed someone a bit older, and a bit colder, to teach you what it meant to love a person like you'd love a month.

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 7 months

Text

Family Cycles - Maverick & Carole

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell / Carole Bradshaw

Word Count: 2.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Talk of Goose's Death; Talk of Maverick's Parents' Death; Sexual References; Pregnancy; Brief Description of Child Birth; OC Mitchell!Child; Talk of Carole's Death; Cancer; Hospitals; Lots of Angst; Not Really Whump but Not Very Happy Either; Self-Loathing; Grief and Mourning; Talks of Moving On; Sort of Hopeful Ending

Summary: Maverick hates himself. But he loves Carole.

A.N. This very much different from what I usually write, but I’ve had a quiet fascination with Maverick and Carole’s dynamic after Goose died and this sort of just came out of it. Sort of whump-ish (though honestly I’m not 100% sure what whump is) with lots of angst but there’s some happy points and not too dark of an ending.

Master List

Maverick hated himself.

He had for a long time.

Growing up in foster care, feeling abandoned by his parents, instilled a strong sense of guilt in him from a young age. He wasn’t good enough for his dad to fight to come home. He wasn’t good enough for his mom to hang on after his father died. He wasn’t good enough for another family to take him in. And then with his role in getting Goose killed at Top Gun, that beast of self-loathing and self-hatred threatened to completely consume him.

But staring down at Carole’s face as the movement of his hips into her own caused her to call out his name, Maverick hated himself most of all.

The light of the moon slipped in through the cracks in the blinds in the house that Goose bought for Carole after she fell pregnant with Bradley, bathing Maverick and Carole in a dim glow. The bed that Goose used to sleep in was now where Maverick and Carole spent their nights together. It was where Maverick and Carole tangled together on passionate nights whenever Maverick was home.

Maverick never intended for this to happen. He never intended to fall into bed with Carole. Hell, when Goose first met Carole, Maverick was the one telling him to ask her out. Maverick never thought that years after he stood beside Goose at the altar as Goose and Carole got married, or beside Goose in the hospital nursery meeting Bradley, that he would ever be here.

In Goose’s bed, fucking his wife.

“Mav,” Carole gasped, digging her nails into his shoulder, “keep doing that. Just like that.”

Carole let out a gasp and pulled Maverick down for a needy kiss that Maverick returned immediately. He shouldn’t have been there. He shouldn’t have been in Goose’s bed, falling in love with Carole, as his body covered her own. He felt like he was betraying Goose, like he was stabbing him in the back. Like he was trying to replace someone who was irreplaceable.

But Goose was gone. He had been gone for five years now. And they had to move on. They had a right to move on. Carole had a right to move on. She was only twenty-five when Goose died. Was she supposed to just sit there and be in mourning for the rest of her life?

Goose wasn’t here. But Maverick was. And that was simply fate’s cruel twist.

Rolling off of Carole, Maverick laid beside her, staring up at the ceiling as they both caught their breath. Carole snuggled into his side and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips that Maverick returned half-heartedly. Sensing his withdraw, Carole sat up and brushed her fingers down his cheek, causing Maverick to turn to her.

“You’ve got that look again in your eye,” she stated, pulling her hand back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Gently squeezing her hip and trailing his thumb up and down the soft skin of her hip, Maverick stared up into Carole’s eyes for a moment. She always looked so serene after their nights together. Even with her hair a mess, she looked so put together in a way.

Regal. Dignified. Strong. Resilient. Full of life.

All of the things that he should have been to her, she was to him. And that made Maverick hate himself all over again.

But with Carole staring at him like that, Maverick pulled himself out of those thoughts. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to her lips before rolling out of bed to grab a towel to clean them up.

~~~~~

Maverick returned to Virginia after a six-month deployment. It was always difficult to be on deployment, but now that he had people to come home to, it was only worse. He found himself writing letters every day or staring at pictures of Carole and Bradley for an ungodly amount of time. But he was coming home now. He was nearly home. Driving down the familiar roads, Maverick allowed himself to breath in the fresh air and relax and gather himself before he arrived home.

He didn’t think that he was cut out for domestic life. But yet, here he was. Craving it. He couldn’t wait to throw a baseball around with Bradley out in the backyard. And he really should fix up the downstairs bathroom. Carole had been complaining about it for years and he wanted to give her something extra to smile about. And hell, he couldn’t wait to sweep her off her feet and have her back in his arms again.

Pulling up to the driveway, Maverick smiled when he saw Bradley out on the front lawn, waiting for him.

“Mav!” Bradley yelled, hurrying over.

Maverick parked his motorcycle next to the old basketball hoop before turning to greet Bradley. He wasn’t a baby anymore, that was for sure. Bradley was nine-years-old now and although he still had his chubby baby cheeks, he was maturing faster than Maverick knew Carole would have liked. Bradley still was her little baby, after all, but he was growing up right before their eyes. And every time he saw Bradley, Maverick swore he looked more and more like Goose.

“Holy hell, Brad, you’re getting too big,” Maverick laughed, pulling Bradley in for a tight hug and lifting him up a little.

“I missed you, Mav.”

“I missed you too, Bradley. Every day,” Maverick returned, giving the boy a quick squeeze.

Standing up straight after releasing Bradley, Maverick looked up when he heard the front screen door open. Carole walked out of the house, her now longer blonde hair blowing in the breeze. But when Maverick saw the bump tugging at the fabric of her jean overalls, his soul momentarily left his body. Carole turned and walked to the edge of the deck, staring at Maverick for a long moment as he processed the new information.

“Welcome home, Mav,” Carole stated, offering him a small, but nervous smile. Resting her hand on top of her bump, Carole added, “We missed you.”

~~~~~

Evelyn Mitchell was born on a cool fall morning.

She was a little small pink bundle of joy that Carole delivered in the passenger seat of the family car about ten minutes away from the local hospital. Bradley sat terrified in the back seat while Carole screamed at Maverick to pull over. And by the time that Maverick ran around to Carole’s side of the car, their little girl was already crowning. It only took two more pushes for Evelyn to come into the world and straight into Maverick’s steady and waiting hands.

And staring down at his newborn daughter as Carole laid back in her seat, assuring Bradley that she was fine as he hugged her from behind, Maverick could only hope that Evelyn turned out more like her mother. He could only hope and dream and pray, even if he still didn’t believe in that shit, that Evelyn didn’t inherit too much from him.

He’d never forgive himself if she did. He’d already dragged too many people down with him. He didn’t need to add an innocent little baby to the list.

“She’s beautiful, Carole,” Maverick whispered out emotionally.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he handed the little crying newborn over to Carole. The second-time mom quickly drew Evelyn to her chest and rested the baby against her. Running her thumb over her daughter’s little bald head, Carole offered Maverick a small, loving smile as tears streamed down her own cheeks. She let out a quiet breathy laugh as she rocked their daughter back and forth, so in love with her already.

Maverick felt himself going down that line again. The one where he told himself that Evelyn should have been Goose’s baby because Goose and Carole planned to fill their house with their kids.

But Maverick blinked rapidly, forcing himself back to the present. He couldn’t think about any of that now. He couldn’t freeze up and get all shaky now. Evelyn and Carole needed to see a doctor. Bradley needed someone to comfort and reassure him after what he just saw. And Maverick was the only candidate available to take on that role.

And so, Maverick just focused on getting everyone to the hospital. He could worry about the other details later.

~~~~~

Maverick cheered and clapped proudly along with the other parents as Bradley’s baseball team ended the game with a win. Bradley jogged over to the pitcher’s mound, chatting with his teammates as everyone started to prepare to go home.

“Yay! Bradley won!” Carole cheered, clapping with Evie, who hurried to copy her mom.

Maverick smiled as Carole laughed at Evie’s little claps and pressed a kiss to her head. Evie got her mom’s bright blue eyes, but Carole insisted that Evie’s blonde hair would get darker once she grew up. It happened with Bradley and Goose’s hair hadn’t been nearly as dark as Maverick’s own.

“You want to go see your brother?” Carole offered Evie, standing up with her daughter in her arms.

Maverick happily took his daughter from his wife and brought Evie over to the edge of the field. Placing her on the the ground, Maverick beamed with joy as Evie took off running, squealing with excitement as her little legs moved as fast as they could to her older brother.

“BWADLEY!”

Bradley’s teammates all turned and got out of the determined little girl’s way as Bradley knelt down to pick her up. Evie gave her big brother as big of a hug as she could manage as he lifted her up and held her in his arms with practiced ease.

Maverick remembered Carole confiding in him that she was nervous about how Bradley would handle having a much younger sister. Apparently when she told him about her pregnancy while Maverick was still deployed, he’d gone stone faced for a moment and hadn’t really reacted too much. And, of course, there was the whole mess of Evie’s birth.

But Bradley fell into the role of big brother very easily. He helped Carole with her while Maverick was at work and adored her little milestones. And Evie in turn absolutely idolized her brother. She always was there to greet him when he came off the bus or at the end of a game, ready to press a slobbery kiss to his face whether he wanted it or not.

They were close and all Maverick and Carole wanted was for them to be close.

“Oh, Mav, take a picture of them,” Carole called, walking over to the fence. “Before Evie’s bow falls out of her hair. We don’t have a Christmas photo yet!”

Maverick took a few pictures of Bradley and Evie as Bradley walked them around the field before turning to Carole. Maverick didn’t think that he was cut out for domesticity. But maybe Carole was just the woman to make him realize that he was after all.

“Does he have a game next weekend too?”

“Yes and practice on Thursday, but can you take him? I have that doctor’s appointment and it might run late,” Carole asked, causing Maverick to nod.

“Can we use the side car on the Kawasaki?”

“Peter Mitchell.”

~~~~~

Maverick sat beside Carole’s hospital bed, running his thumb over her golden wedding band.

The lights were dim in the hospice wing of the hospital. Ice and Sarah had taken Bradley and Evie home for the night. Evie had fallen asleep beside her mother in her hospital bed nearly an hour before they left, but Bradley was awake and alert, like he wouldn’t allow himself to miss a moment.

Maverick was worried about them. They were too young to lose their mom. Evie just started school. Bradley wasn’t even old enough to drive yet. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

Maverick looked up when he felt Carole squeeze his hand Locking eyes with his wife, Maverick tried to not let his tears slip down where she would see them. But Carole always knew him better than he knew himself. Hell, she’d known him since they were in their early twenties. There wasn’t another person in the world who knew him like Carole did.

And soon there wouldn’t be anyone like that at all.

Carole reached up and gently cupped his cheek with her hand. Raising his own, Maverick held her hand to his cheek and pressed a kiss to her palm. She had made her peace with it. He could see it in her eyes. And he hated how she was the strong one. He hated how he allowed himself to be the weak one.

“I wrote letters for the kids,” Carole whispered, her voice strained. “They’re back at the house. In the drawer of the nightstand. For all the milestones that I’ll miss.”

Maverick nodded, assuring Carole that he would find the letters and give them to Bradley and Evelyn. Carole took a few labored breaths before smiling softly up at her husband, though there were tears in her eyes as well.

“Try to keep them on the ground,” Carole continued, causing Maverick to look away from her for a moment. “Promise me, Pete. Please. Don’t let them repeat our mistakes. They need to live their lives. Not like us, Pete. Not like us.”

And when she said ‘us,’ Maverick knew that she was referencing Goose as well there. Maverick let silent tears fall from his eyes before turning back to Carole. Could he really deny her? Could he really deny one of her last wishes? Could he really put Bradley or Evelyn anywhere near a cockpit after the accident from over a decade ago claimed Goose’s life?

Could he?

“I promise,” he vowed, just like he did in the small courthouse a few years ago. “I promise, Carole.”

Carole nodded slowly, seeming to be at greater peace than a few moments before. And that realization only made the tears fall harder down Maverick’s cheeks, though he tried to remain strong. He tried to be the rock that Carole needed, but when he locked eyes with her again, Maverick came to a sinking realization that she didn’t need a rock anymore.

She was ready. She was ready to spread her wings and fly off to join Goose.

And all he could do was sit there and cry.

~~~~~

Maverick stared out the window as Bradley sped off into the night, on his way to move to the University of Virginia. Maverick wasn’t sure how Bradley figured out that he pulled his papers, but he did. And he certainly let Maverick know that he did and how he felt about it.

Maverick hoped that Bradley would turn out like his dad. Goose was sharp and skilled, but kind and above all else a responsible and caring individual. He accepted people as they were and he navigated his reactions from there. Goose’s emotional intellect was something that Maverick knew he could never replicate, no matter how hard he tried.

Or Maverick hoped that Bradley would grow into someone like his mom, like Carole. A fierce and courageous individual with a strong morale compass and the determination to see it through. Carole was kind, she was forgiving, she never held a grudge nor did she ever seek revenge against anyone. She accepted what life threw at her with dignity and grace.

But that anger, that inner frustration that was always a quiet ticking time bomb that Bradley possessed? That was a trait that he inherited from Maverick. Or rather, a trait that he shared in common with Maverick. It was a trait that those who lost so much at such a young age were often saddled with.

And so it looked like Maverick dragged yet another victim down with him.

Turning around, Maverick paused when he saw Evie standing at the top of the stairs in her pajamas. She held her stuffed animal close to her chest as she stared down at Maverick with a scared expression. He had hoped that she slept through his and Bradley’s fight, but he knew that he was just kidding himself. They were far too loud and Bradley slammed the door shut behind him on his way out.

Evie stared down at Maverick with her mother’s eyes, which caused Maverick’s knees to wobble. He had seen that expression, that fear, in Carole’s eyes on only so many occasions. And he didn’t want to see it in his daughter’s eyes. The eyes that had already seen far too much for her young age. Maverick walked up the stairs, moving to comfort Evie.

“Is he coming back?” she asked quietly as Maverick pulled her into a tight hug.

“Of course, he’s coming back,” Maverick told Evie, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “He’s not disappearing, Evie. He’s just going away for a little bit.”

“Why were you yelling so loud?” Evie questioned, sniffling a bit, which only made Maverick pull her to his chest a little tighter. “Why’s he so angry?”

“Your brother and I had an argument. About what he should do with his future,” Maverick explained slowly as Evie looked up at him through her eyelashes, still sniffling. “And he was mad, so he left.”

“He didn’t say goodbye,” Evie pointed out, sniffling again as she rested her head against his chest. “Why didn’t he say goodbye to me? Is he mad at me too?”

“No,” Maverick quickly interjected, holding Evie by her shoulders. “Bradley’s not mad at you at all. He’s only mad at me. And . . . he thought that you were sleeping and he didn’t want to wake you up. That’s why he didn’t say goodbye, Evie.”

“Can I call him?” Evie asked, causing Maverick to withhold a sigh.

“You can call him tomorrow,” Maverick stated after a moment, causing Evie to nod in return. “But you should go to bed, Evie. It’s late.”

Maverick led his daughter back to her room and tucked her into bed again. She cuddled up against her pillow and stared up at her dad as he adjusted the blankets around her.

“Are you leaving too?” Evie asked Maverick, who frowned at her question.

“I’m going to my own bed, Evie, but it’s not that far. Why do you ask?”

“Mommy left. And now Bradley did too,” Evie pointed out softly, causing Maverick’s heart to shatter in his chest. Evie played with her stuffed animal before looking at her dad again. “Are you going to leave me too?”

Staring down at his daughter, who reminded him so painfully of her mother, Maverick held his tears back. Letting out a subtle cough to try and clear his throat, Maverick brushed Evie’s hair down and back away from her face.

“No, sweetheart, I’m staying. I’ll be here, okay?”

“Promise?” Evie asked, sitting up in her bed and offering her pinkie finger.

“Promise,” Maverick returned quietly, locking their pinkies.

He knew what it felt like to lose everyone, to feel like you weren’t good enough for anyone to try and hang on so that you wouldn’t be alone in the world. And Maverick would be damned if he let his daughter—if he let Carole’s daughter—suffer a similar fate.

“Go to bed,” Maverick urged her, settling her back down. “You can call Bradley tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, honey.”

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #maverick #carole bradshaw #top gun 1986 #Maverick x Carole #Pete Mitchell x Carole Bradshaw

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dingochef · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking, light bondage, blindfolds

Summary: Even though you should be the belle of the Annual Top Gun Navy Ball, you're more of a brat and Jake enjoys every minute of the teasing and the consequences later.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 12

Word Count: 5.5k

Chapter 13: Belle or Brat?

Your Hallmark movie of a Thanksgiving trip to meet Jake's family ends Saturday at the Austin airport. Tom and Sharon have driven you and Jake to the airport and are giving you hugs and goodbyes on the curb.

Sharon is beaming when she goes to give you a hug,

"It has been so good to get to know you. I couldn't be happier that you and Jake found each other. We'll see you guys sooner than later. Take care, Elsa."

"Sharon, thank you for the wonderful time and being so welcoming. It was honestly one of the best holidays I've had in a long time."

Tom gives you a hug and you overhear Sharon talking to Jake as she hugs him goodbye.

"Love you, Jakey. Hold on to her," Sharon tells Jake.

"Love you too. I will, Mom. Don't worry."

The flight is uneventful and soon the plane is starting the intense descent into San Diego. You grab an Uber and head home, breathing in a sigh of relief as you unlocking your front door and step inside.

"Home sweet home," you say walking in. You look through the mail and think of the upcoming week. Nothing too insane for work and then the Navy Ball for the Top Gun team and a few other departments at North Island this coming Saturday.

When you and Jake had discussed it a few months ago you were unfamiliar with the concept of military ball.

"Have you ever been to one before?" you asked Jake.

"Yes, they're pretty standard throughout the Navy. I've never brought a date though. Seemed like a lot to ask someone I was only casual with. So, I'm excited to have you on my arm with me at this one."

"What am I supposed to wear?"

"Probably a fancy dress, evening gown thingy?"

You laughed,

"Very helpful."

"Cyclone said his wife would be available to take you and Lydia to a dress shop that's pretty good for these types of things."

"That'd be helpful, does Mrs. Cyclone have a name?"

Jake laughed and flipped through his phone,

"Maddie Simpson, I sent you her contact info."

–

The week before the ball flows along as expected, work is busy but not too much. The schematics for Darkstar 2.0 are getting finalized. Lydia and you meet Friday after work for pedicures and manicures to get all dolled up for the ball tomorrow. You select a light pink for your toes and a golden beige for your nails, keeping it subtle. You and Lydia chat and exchange info on what to expect tomorrow.

"Rooster said to be prepared for a whole bunch of speeches, so his advice was to hold off your bathroom break till the middle of those," Lydia reports.

"Jake mentioned there's a receiving line where we get to meet all the big wigs," you offer up your bit of intel.

"It sounds like a prom mashed with a wedding."

"Well, it sounds like this won't be the only one we attend."

She gets a dreamy look on her face, "Yeah, I think these guys are sticking around. Who'd of thought, me going after some random guy I thought was hot at the bar for a quick fuck would have ended us up here?"

"I'll salute your sluttiness, it paid off this time, you laugh and stick your tongue out at Lydia letting her know you're joking. You continue,

"You realize we're going to have to come up with some fake story to tell our kids of how we met their dads till they're old enough. Something about your Aunt Lydia thought your Uncle was hot and was curious of how big his cock was and then your mom completely humiliated your dad in front of his friends. Then they went to a baseball game and fell in love. I don't think that's going to be kid appropriate for a looong time."

Lydia is cracking up.

"How about we say we all met at a church picnic?!"

"Let's go with that."

"So you thinking the whole deal with Hangman? Marriage and kids?"

"I know we're on the marriage train, I asked him when we made all this official if that's where we were headed. Kids are more of a question mark. The way he was with his nieces in Texas was so freaking adorable. It was easy to imagine him as a dad and for like the first time ever I felt my biological clock. Like I felt I needed to give him babies."

Lydia is half laughing and half in shock.

"You are in deep, you'd be good parents."

"You and Rooster?"

She pauses,

"I think he's going to propose. Rooster's been a little weird lately. I keep walking in on him writing something and muttering something like 'That's not it'. And he's been a little cagey like he's planning something."

"Is it a problem if he proposes?"

"I don't think so. It does feel a little soon."

"Would you say yes?"

"Yes, of course I would."

"Then don't worry about it."

"You're right."

At that moment your nail technicians let you know you're done. You walk out doing your best to keep your nails smudge free. Waving your goodbyes to Lydia you promise to see her tomorrow at the ball.

Jake and you have a quiet evening in and an easy Saturday morning, not doing too much knowing you have a big event tonight.

The cocktail hour starts at 5 pm so you're ready by 4:30 and walk out to meet Jake in the living room. He is sitting on the couch fiddling with his phone and he stands up when he hears you on the wood floor. You are treated to a look of surprise and utter adoration from Jake.

"Oh El, you look gorgeous," he declares and

You do a little twirl around showing him the full look.

Your dress is a dark navy one shoulder style mermaid style dress with a plunging back and strap across the back to hold it together. There is a slit down the side to help with movement. When you were picking out dresses with Lydia and Maddie Simpson this one stood out to you for the bare back. It was easy to imagine the feel of Jake's hand on your back.

He walks around the couch, eyeing you from head to toe.

"God, I'm not sure we're gonna make it there, you look so good."

He also looks extremely good in his dress uniform. It's his most formal one with a dinner jacket with tails, bowtie, and cumberbund. You hold back the girlish sigh on your lips on how unbelievably handsome he is.

"You keep your hands to yourself mister, this took a lot of work."

"Fine, fine, I'll take you out and show you off," he stands behind you and leans in as he brushes his hand up your back,

"I'll just have to wait to have my way with you, I can tell the way you're eyeing me you've got ideas too."

You let out a traitorous sigh,

"Maybe, but we should get going." Jake just chuckles and kisses your temple.

When you arrive you pick up a name tag at a table near the entrance that says, "Dr. Elsa Matthews, PhD, PE, Guest of Lieutenant Jake Seresin."

"Jake, you didn't have to put titles on my name tag," you chide him. He laughs,

"It's not to boost your ego, it's a tactical move to annoy one of my coworkers, Jenkins. He's convinced that there isn't a woman smart enough to have a PhD in aerospace engineering so I thought I'd pump up your credentials to mess with him."

"How mature," you respond. You make your way to the bar, get a drink, and prepare to mingle.

Jake sees Rooster and Lydia first, "Look there's Rooster and Lydia. Let's grab a table with them while we can."

You make your way over to Rooster and Lydia and greet them on the side of the giant room.

"Lydia, Rooster, you guys look great," you say giving them each a hug. Rooster gives the compliment back, at least to you,

"Elsa, you look stunning. Hangman, you look adequate."

Jake just laughs,

"I'm wearing the same thing you are, but I make this look good. I'd give you a solid C+."

Rooster opens his mouth to send another volley, but Lydia stops him,

"Let's grab a table so we can make sure we all sit together. I need Elsa as my emotional support animal to get through this."

You snag a table near the back and on the edge.

"Strategic," you say, "Makes bathroom breaks more subtle."

Jake leans in so only you can hear, "Or sneaking off to do other things." He winks as he leans out to join the conversation.

Rooster looks over your head and groans a little,

"Here comes Jenkins."

"The one who doesn't think women can be engineers?" you ask Jake.

"Yup."

A guy with black hair in a buzz cut and a pudgy face with a scraggly mustache appears with his date, a petite blond that looks like she could get blown away in a stiff wind.

"Hangman, so this is the infamous girlfriend, Elsa. I'm Paul" he says, grabbing your hand and kissing it in greeting,

"Enchanté."

You're shocked he would do that in front of his date/ girlfriend. Jake is rolling his eyes at the over the top gesture.

"Nice to meet you, Paul," you turn to his date, "and you too."

She responds,

"Sarah, his sister."

You feel slightly better that he's not a total sleazeball.

"Sarah, these are my coworkers, Hangman and Rooster. This is supposedly Hangman's smarty pants girlfriend," he leans uncomfortably close to your chest to read your name tag out loud verbatim,

"Dr. Elsa Matthews, PhD, PE."

Sarah and you nod at each other.

"What's the PE for?" Jenkins asks.

"Licensed Professional Engineer."

"So basically a nerd license?"

Jenkins laughs jarringly like a hyena looking around the group to see if anybody else is laughing. No one is.

"Yeah, something like that. So, Sarah, do you live in the area or are you visiting?" you ask, trying to divert the conversation to something more interesting. Jenkins isn't having it,

"Alright, if you're actually a doctor in aerospace engineering, tell me something smart."

"I didn't think this was going to turn into a job interview. You could just look at my LinkedIn page if you want to know all my professional accomplishments."

Jake smirks as he watches. Jenkins doesn't give up,

"Naw naw, Doc. Say something smart."

"Will telling you I have three parents for hypersonic aviation modular life support systems, out of a total of 22 patents, shut you up?"

Jake and Rooster are smiling into their drinks watching the conversation. You can tell they aren't particularly fond of Jenkins.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You don't have to be a show off. If you're so smart then why are you with Hangman? I'm on the market, baby."

Jake has snorted his beer through his nose and is coughing, Rooster pats him on the back. Rooster and Lydia are waiting for your next verbal volley like they're watching a tennis match.

"It's because he has a giant cock. Do I need to describe that in great detail so you understand, too?"

You respond with an accompanying hand gesture, slowly, like you're talking to a child, a particularly slow child with a bad mustache. Sarah hides a smile at her idiot brother. Rooster coughs into drink.

Jenkins barks out his hyena laugh,

"I like this one, Seresin!"

Sarah grabs her brother's shoulder and urges him to walk away. He looks over his shoulder as he turns,

"Hey baby, if you find you get bored with the Hangman and want to hang out with a hung man," he gestures obscenely to his crotch, making you gag a little,

"Give me a call, sweet cheeks."

Rooster calls out to Sarah,

"I'd keep him away from the bar for the rest of the night, just a word of advice."

You look at Jake,

"What the hell is wrong with him? And please tell me he doesn't fly a plane."

"Multiple things, probably dropped on his head as a child, many, many times," Jake responds,

"And no, thank God, he is not a pilot. He's in charge of aircraft parts, so a glorified inventory clerk."

"Please tell me that's your weirdest coworker," you plead with Jake and Rooster.

"Yes, everybody else is pretty normal." Jake answers.

You lean over to Jake,

"I'm not going to get you in trouble for that big cock comment, am I?"

Jake looks at you,

"Don't worry about it, the higher ups don't believe anything he says. I would probably recommend not saying that to Cyclone, it might be a bit of a weird conversation starter."

You laugh, the tension easing.

You and Jake circulate around and meet more of Jake's coworkers and the rest are pleasant and not obnoxious jackasses.

Soon dinner is served and the speeches start up. They feel a lot like corporate speeches but with more patriotism sprinkled in. You are definitely bored by the end of the first one. Maybe it is the champagne on an empty stomach, but you decide to mess with Jake a little bit. You slip your heel off and nudge Jake's pant leg with your foot making contact with the skin under the fabric. Jake's eyebrow raises and he gives you a slight smile as he realizes what you are doing. After a few minutes you put it back in your shoe.

At the next applause break, you pretend to fiddle with your earring and pop it off into your hand.

"Oh no, I think I just lost my earring," you say loud enough to catch Jake's attention,

"I think it fell off that way."

You point towards Jake's feet. You lean over to peek under the tablecloth and as you do you cup Jake's crotch. You know the view of your actions is obscured by the tablecloth and your body. You're rewarded with a quick breath in from Jake.

You emerge from the tablecloth holding your earring, stating,

"Found it," as you put it back on. Jake is staring at you more pointedly now, eyebrow raised in question.

You lean to whisper so only he can hear,

"I'll stop if you say stop. I won't do anything that would embarrass you, just want to rile you up for later."

You pull back to see his response and he leans back in to whisper into your ear.

"Just know you'll face the consequences later," he smirks.

It's your turn to get a little flush and give him a knowing smile. Another speech starts and you keep your hands to yourself for the entirety of the speech. At the end, you use the moment to excuse yourself to the bathroom. When you're in the stall you slide off the lacy thong you chose for tonight and ball it up in your hand. As you sit back down you sneak the underwear in Jake's pants pocket. His hand goes to investigate and the moment he recognizes that it is lacy fabric and his jaw clenches ever so slightly. He looks at you eyebrows raised and the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

The room darkens for a video on a screen up front. You use the opportunity to slide Jake's hand to the slit on your dress, that is conveniently on the side nearest him. You place your napkin over his hand to obscure the scene. His hand is on your skin and ever so slowly creeping around to your inner thigh, trying to flex his fingers up towards your pussy. The video ends and he discreetly pulls his hand back to clap, making eye contact with you the whole time.

The speeches are over and they announce that the dance floor is open. Jake stands up and extends his hand, "May I have this dance, El?"

The music is classical and you recognize it as a waltz. You're surprised when we get to the dance floor and Jake leads you in a perfect waltz.

"Should I add ballroom dancing to your list of many hidden talents?" you ask Jake as he gives you a twirl.

"Yes, among others. My mom insisted we learn to dance the classics. And how are you so well informed on ballroom dance techniques?"

"My mom made me go to cotillion. I remember all the dances and how to set a 36 inch place setting."

"What a useful skill in this day and age," he laughs.

After a few more classical dances, the music has changed to more contemporary pop and rock and roll making the dancing more informal. Lydia and Rooster make their way to you on the dance floor. The lighting has changed and the room is darker and by the DJ stand there are colored lights that change with the beat of the music. It feels like a high school prom with some of the music choices, and you have fun trying out cheesy moves mostly to make everyone else laugh.

The song switches to a song you recognize, Eric Clapton's Wonderful Tonight. Jake places one hand on your back on the bare skin and takes your hand in the other. You place your free hand on his shoulder and start to sway in time with the music. Jake is singing along just loud enough for you to hear and his deep voice reverberates through his chest against yours. You wonder if you can fall even more in love with him the way he's looking at you when the song ends.

Borrowing a lyric from the song, you say,

"It's time to go home now."

He laughs at your choice of words and lowers his head to tell you,

"Someone also needs to face the consequences of her actions, like putting her panties in my pocket so I know you're bare and there'd be nothing in my way."

You swallow hard and just dumbly nod, no coherent thoughts forming, Jake sees the look on your face and just smirks. You make our goodbyes to Lydia and Rooster and head out to the car.

You are barely buckled in when Jake's hand finds the slit in your dress. Pushing his hand up toward your pussy, he extends his fingers and just gently parts the folds around your clit, and then suddenly retreats his hand. You whine at the loss of contact.

"Does someone not like getting teased?" he laughs.

He leans over the console and puts a hand behind your head to catch your lips and mouth in a deep kiss that you feel all the way to your toes. He pulls back and starts the car, leaving you breathless and needy.

"El, you're lucky this is a stick or you'd be getting a lot more teasing on the drive home."

You are never happier that you live only 10 minutes from the base. Jake drives you home in what feels like a deliberately slower manner. You finally break,

"Jake, I need you inside me as soon as possible."

"Ooh, you are hot and ready to go. This'll make what I have planned for you even better."

"What do you have planned, besides fucking me the instant we get inside the door?"

"Oh, so much more, sweetheart. Just you wait."

Mercifully, you arrive home. You feel like you are sprinting to get the door unlocked and Jake is taking his sweet time getting to the porch. You step inside and Jake follows. He pulls you back to his chest and starts to kiss a line down your neck. Jake guides you to the bedroom and unzips your dress leaving you completely naked. He pushes you onto the bed so you are sitting on the edge.

"You were a wretched little tease tonight," he grabs your chin and tilts it up to look at him, "I've been thinking of all the ways I could have you when we got back here."

His thumb rubs across your lower lip and you take it into your mouth and suck on it earning a low groan from him.

"Teases need to learn some lessons in patience," he purrs as his hand slides down to cup your breasts and pinch your nipple, ripping a ragged moan from you.

"Lay down and wait, I'll be right back," he looks at you and says with deadly seriousness, "Do not touch yourself. understand me?"

You nod in agreement. He leaves the room and you slip off your heels and lay down on the top of your bed.

He returns holding a small bowl and the belt from your silk robe. He puts the small bowl on the dresser and kneels next to the bed.

"El, I'm going to tie you to the bed and blindfold you. Are you okay with that?" He is searching your eyes for any hesitancy.

"I'm very okay with that," you practically purr.

He breaks into the panty dropper smile and says,

"Good, we can stop this at any time, just say red light."

He is referencing the system you agreed upon for communicating in bed.

"Sounds good, green light."

He lifts your hands up above your head and the cool softness of the silk robe belt encircling your wrists and the fabric tightens as he ties it to the headboard. You flex your arms and find that you can't move them far. Jake is now standing next to the bed staring at you. He has pulled his dinner jacket off and thrown it over the back of the armchair in the corner, the medals clinking as it lands. Next he pulls off the cumberbund and sends it over to join the jacket. He unties his bow tie, throwing it down to the bed next to you and unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt. His next move is classically sexy and makes you press your thighs together to get some kind of friction. He pulls his cufflinks out and puts them on top of the dresser next to him and then he methodically rolls his sleeves up revealing his tanned and muscular forearms.

"Enjoying the show, El?" he laughs.

"Very much," you breathe more than speak.

"Good," he says as he sits down on the bed taking the bow tie in his hand and he ties it gently around your head pulling the fabric to cover your eyes.

You take a deep breath and relax into the bed.

"Good, El?"

"Very good, Jake."

The first thing you feel is Jake's hands sweeping up your legs and just skimming the inside of your thighs short circuiting your brain. You try to thrust your pelvis towards his hands and he evades your motions and continues up your body. You whine out a little pout. Jake just laughs. His hands move along to cup your breasts, just pinching at the nipple to a firm point before he leans down to kiss them. He pulls back and you are lost without any contact from him.

The bed dips around your waist and the crisp fabric of his dress pants stretches across your thighs as he straddles you. You are unsure what his next move will be until the cool metal of his dog tags fall on your chest, eliciting a squeak from you. He huffs out a little laugh.

Jake leans down and holds his lips just above yours, the heat from his mouth apparent on your lips as he talks,

"Sweet, sweet, El. Who knew you were such cock tease and so naughty."

He traces a finger down your cheek and across your lips as he talks. You try to lift your head to kiss his lips and he pulls away before you make contact. Your head falls to the bed in defeat and then Jake is kissing you hard, tongue invading your mouth. He pulls away and you lift your head to chase his lips for more, earning another soft and teasing laugh from him.

Jaken kisses a line down your jaw and neck, continuing his path down your chest and finally settling his lips just under your left breast. The feeling from his lips intensifies and he sucks a bruise there, the slight pain from the blood vessels breaking blissfully radiating out. You're so tightly wound that anything, any feeling, pain or pleasure, soothes you. You moan loudly at that thought. He pulls off and gently kisses the sensitive area.

Ghosting his lips down your stomach he swerves at the last second avoiding your very wet and very needy pussy. You whine out in frustration, and plead to him,

"That's where I need it, please, Jake."

"Are we frustrated, El?"

"Yes, please, please touch me. Anything." you plead, sounding a bit desperate.

"It's okay, El. I'll take care of you," Jake coos reassuringly. The bed springs up and the weight of Jake is gone leaving you a little unmoored. Sounds you can't identify filter over from the far side of the room and suddenly you are overwhelmed by a cold burst of wetness on your nipples, they pebble and firm up instantly. An undignified yelp escapes your mouth with a

"What was that?"

"Ice," Jake laughs as he settles in the bed, and you can practically hear his smirk. He resumes his position over you and his cold lips trail down your torso and engulf your clit with no warning. You respond by squealing a mix of pleasure and pain and lifting your hips as far off the bed as possible, unsure if you want to retreat or want more.

"You are so much fun to tease. So responsive and sensitive," Jake says as he pulls back.

"Not fair, I need you, Jake," you respond, emphasizing the word need. He returns his cold mouth to your clit and begins to lick it fast and hard. Two fingers into you without any resistance and join his tongue in his fast rhythm. It doesn't take long for his mouth to warm up and push you to the edge of climax.

You are a moaning mess, and all you can sob out is,

"So close, so close, don't stop."

He pulls his face back and keeps his fingers in you at the same intense pace.

"You don't get to come till I let you, El."

If it was possible that statement would have made you even wetter. It's not helping how turned on you are. He plants his mouth hard on your clit and keeps licking.

"Please, can I come?"

Your begging question fills the air. "Please?" You ask again. You are so close that you know Jake can feel your walls fluttering around his fingers. Every second you're kept waiting is an exquisite mix of overwhelming bliss and the pain of almost coming.

Abruptly Jake pulls back everything. His mouth and hands are gone and your hips lift to chase him.

"What the fuck, Jake?"

You try to sound more indignant than needy. He just laughs as an answer. The bed shifts as Jake stands up. The sound of his clothes hitting the floor is followed by the ties at your wrists being undone.

The bed dips and Jake flips you over with the ease that only he can achieve. You are still blindfolded and unsure of his next move. He grips your hips and pulls your ass up as he gently pushes your head down to the bed. Your knees are being pushed apart with his knee and his hard cock brushes against your thighs enticingly. He is so achingly close to tight where you need him.

Finally, he takes pity on you and runs the head of his cock through your glistening folds.

"You ready, El?" he asks, still teasing your slit.

You practically shout,

"Yes, please fuck me, please."

"So needy, the tease doesn't like to be teased?"

He is laughing as he kisses down your spine.

You reach a hand back to try and touch yourself for some relief and you are treated to a stinging slap on your ass. You bite your lip to keep the moan it pulls out of you in, not wanting to give Jake the satisfaction right now, not when he's teasing you so mercilessly.

"Do I have to tie you up again? You'll come when I tell you, El."

Your whine in response is pure lust and absolute need,

"No, sir. Please fuck me, I need you."

He obliges and plunges in without any more warning or teasing. You almost come before he has bottomed out. With how hard you're gripping the comforter in your hands holding 9ff your orgasm, you're slightly afraid you're going to rip holes in the fabric, not that any part of your brain can be bothered to care. Each of Jake's thrusts pulls out a moan that sounds more like of a sob of relief than of pleasure. Jake pulls all the way back out and for a second you are lost. He pushes back in and starts to fuck you slowly. You try to speed up his thrusts by pushing back your body.

He laughs and grips your hips hard to still you, the thought that he might leave bruises makes you clench around him,

"Remember, who's in charge here?"

You don't respond and feel another harsh slap on the other cheek of your ass. This time you can't help the moan and accompanying clench of your pussy on his cock.

"Answer me, El."

"You are, Lieutenant," is all you can choke out, your need to come overwhelming you. The word triggers something in Jake and he is now fucking you at a relentless pace. His body is starting to tense, a sign he is getting close to the edge; he mercifully slips his hand down to touch your clit. You are right back at that edge of ecstasy within seconds and you hear yourself begging again,

"Please, can I come? Lieutenant? Please?"

His body stutters and you know he is close. Through gritted teeth, he says,

"Come around my cock baby, I want to feel how much you need it."

That is all the encouragement you need. You shatter around him clenching hard. The orgasm is so overwhelming that if you hadn't had the blindfold on still the room would have grayed out.

Your head thunks down to the soft mattress as the pleasure rolls over you, Jake thrusts a few more times to chase his release, his hands gripping at your hips hard to keep you from moving up the bed.

"Fuck, El, gonna come, gonna fill you up," he grits out. You are still in the throes of your climax that you are almost too out of it to say anything.

"Please, Jake, give it to me. I've been good, please," you rasp. He comes with a mighty roar and bends down, his chest against your back as he catches his breath, one hand planted on the bed to support his weight, the other rubbing soothing circles on your side.

He reaches down to your shoulder and pulls you up to his chest tilting your head to kiss you sweetly, a contrast to the intensity of a few minutes ago. Jake pulls the blindfold off and slowly pulls out of you. He gently lowers you to the bed and lays down next to you pulling you into his arms. Your head settles on his chest as you both come down from your mutual high. After a few minutes Jake kisses your forehead tenderly.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes, way better than okay, in fact great," you respond. He laughs at your effusive gushing and his lips are on your forehead again. You roll over to your stomach so you can see his face.

"That's definitely been a fantasy of mine, never really trusted anyone enough to let go of that control," you tell him as you trace idle circles on his chest with your index finger.

"I remembered from one of your trips to Bakersfield. Did it live up to your expectations?" he asks.

"Not that this is a Yelp review or anything, but 5/5 greatly exceeded my expectations. Would have sex like this again."

You're rewarded with one of Jake's deep laughs,

"How am I supposed to keep my ego in check if you're telling me that kind of stuff?"

"You earned it, stud." you yawn, aware of how late it is.

"Is Cinderella out past midnight?" Jake teases.

"Yes, and she is quickly turning into a pumpkin. I'm going to wash all this makeup off and then I'm going to cuddle up to my handsome stud of a boyfriend and fall asleep."

"Sounds excellent," Jake yawns back in agreement. You head to the bathroom and when you return Jake is already asleep. You turn off the lights and slide into bed and lay your head on his chest before sleep overtakes you.

Up next: Elsa's family comes to town for Christmas and it's not all hot chocolate and hugs...*foreshadowing*.

Chapter 14

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