#very rarely it becomes quite obvious that he's not only noticed the head bobbing but has foregone whatever he's doing to fully embrace it.

[eskelstits]

Okay okay so hear me out:

Jaskier has been acting odd lately, though the bard was either too shy or too stubborn to acknowledge it. At the very least, he was stubborn fool for thinking Geralt, of all people, wouldn’t take notice. Jaskier had suddenly become adamant about more generous rations for his Witcher, started to insist on larger dinners at taverns, and was always quick to suggest another round of food and drink— only to insist that Geralt finish it. The witcher pretended not to notice the way Jaskier watched intently while he ate and hid his wry amusement when the bard hurriedly looked away upon being caught. Geralt had so far played along with these antics in feigned ignorance, admittedly feeling a small thrill as his body started to bulk and strain against his armor. And now that he was paying closer attention, he found himself fond of just how delicate his bard looked by comparison. Armed with his suspicions of what Jaskier is up to, Geralt decides to satisfy his curiosity by embracing the bard’s antics and seeing just how much he can him squirm.

I was thinking some stuffing and size kink ~ with increasingly daring taunts thrown from both sides of the table bc let’s be real neither of the boys would give in easily.

THANK YOU i definitely had fun with this prompt

[ masterpost - ao3 ]

"Are you ill?" Geralt asked the question hunched over the plate of eggs and bacon he was enjoying for his breakfast.

More accurately, Jaskier's breakfast. Geralt had already finished his own serving, but then Jaskier had deftly stacked his own half-full plate on top of Geralt's empty one. To be fair, as it turned out, that particular tavern did tend to dish out surprisingly hearty portions, and Geralt had to remind himself that Jaskier was not a witcher, and therefore did not have the appetite of one. It was not the only occasion on which Jaskier had passed off a good fraction of his food to Geralt, however.

In fact, it seemed to be happening more and more frequently lately. He would demand seconds, larger portions, extra bread or more ale, only to immediately claim that he was full and offer it up to Geralt. After a tough life of fighting for survival, Geralt was a rather opportunistic eater, and so he always took advantage of Jaskier's leftovers. It was … strange, but Geralt could not say he exactly minded it. He did like going to bed warm and satiated rather than starving, tossing and turning and kept awake by his growling stomach. The only thing that really puzzled Geralt was the staring. Jaskier would look at him like Geralt was the most fascinating thing on the Continent whenever they sat down together to eat, but as Geralt had recently discovered, Jaskier would always quickly look away the moment Geralt met his eye.

Jaskier gaped and sputtered for a moment, eyes wide and hand settled over his chest as though Geralt had just viciously insulted him.

"Ill? Geralt, you wound me. I will have you know that I'm positively glowing with good health," Jaskier huffed.

Geralt grunted. Eyes narrowed, he examined Jaskier for just a brief moment longer, then bowed his head again to continue eating. Out of the edge of his vision, he could see Jaskier watching him.

Geralt had been willing to ignore the odd behavior up until his trousers started feeling tight. He still was not quite upset. It was not an overly drastic change, just a slight layer of padding over top of his muscles, making him look more like he did after he had been settled for a while over the winters he spent at Kaer Morhen, but there was a definite difference. Jaskier seemed to be noticing, too. Though he had not said anything about it, he still stared, and whenever he and Geralt fell into bed together, the bard's hands smoothed all over him, wordlessly worshiping Geralt's fuller frame.

Geralt enjoyed it, too. He had always been broader than Jaskier, but putting on a bit of weight had only highlighted that contrast. The day before, Geralt had caught a glimpse of his reflection looming behind Jaskier's in the mirror as the bard stood there checking over his own outfit for the evening's performance, and he had looked almost … delicate in comparison to Geralt. The sight had ignited something deep and primal and exciting in his core, and he wanted to chase that thrill.

No, he was far from upset. He was curious, though. While he had pieced together what was happening, there was still one more question: Was Jaskier doing it on purpose? Geralt supposed he could simply ask, but the thought of setting himself up for vulnerability like that was horrific. He had to find some other way to weasel out the truth. He had to beat Jaskier at his own game.

"Do I look different to you?" Geralt dared to ask that evening while they waited for the barmaid to come back with their dinner order. Jaskier looked anxious for just a brief second, but then he relaxed again and hummed inquisitively as he scanned Geralt's face.

"Is that a new doublet? Oh! Have you trimmed your beard?" Jaskier said.

Geralt hummed. By trade, Jaskier was a performer, but Geralt knew him well enough to be able to tell when he was lying -- or 'acting,' as Jaskier often corrected him. Two could play that game. Feigning ignorance, Geralt nodded and falsely agreed that he had gone to a barber, and he watched Jaskier decompress with relief. When the barmaid returned and set a full plate down in front of each of them, Geralt cleared his throat to get her attention.

"I want another," he said, pointing to his own plate.

"Ah … Another leg of chicken?" The barmaid looked a bit confused, like she was hesitant to believe that Geralt had been referring to the entire meal.

"No. Another plate," Geralt insisted. A brief pause, and he tacked on, "Please."

The barmaid blinked, but she chose not to argue. Rather, she nodded and scurried back to the kitchen. When Geralt looked back towards Jaskier, the bard was staring. Again.

"... Hungry, are you?" Jaskier questioned.

"Very."

Geralt held Jaskier's gaze for a moment longer and watched as just a hint of color began creeping over the bard's cheeks. Without another word, Geralt began to eat. He tore into the half chicken and the hearty portion of roast vegetables he had in front of him, and each time he glanced up, he found Jaskier trying and ultimately failing to be subtle about the fact that he was watching Geralt like a hawk. Geralt thought that he would have wanted to shy away before he managed to get his questions answered, but that was not the case. In reality, he actually liked the attention, those enraptured eyes fixed on him making him feel alight with a strange mixture of pleasure and shame. The barmaid came back with the rest of the food Geralt had requested, and she set it down quickly almost as though afraid of getting bitten if she ventured too close. Geralt grunted his thanks around a full mouth. Jaskier had been uncharacteristically silent the entire time, all the way up until Geralt finally broke for air and a drink of ale.

“Are you … sure you’re going to be able to finish all of that?” Jaskier sounded both tentative and almost laughably eager.

“Yes,” Geralt answered.

He met Jaskier’s eye again, his gaze dark and smoldering. The bard’s throat bobbed enticingly when he swallowed, and Geralt only barely held back a smirk. Whether or not Jaskier had been feeding Geralt up on purpose, it was obvious that he enjoyed the show, and it was always fun for Geralt to try and get him flustered.

“Ah, yes, well … I suppose you have had quite a healthy appetite lately,” Jaskier said. He spoke hesitantly, testing his luck. Geralt pushed right back.

“Someone has to eat all your leftovers.”

“Mm, yes. You are rather good for that.”

Geralt made it about halfway through his second plate before Jaskier was getting restless again. The bard still had some food remaining on his own plate, and judging from the way he kept glancing between it and Geralt and tapping his fingers anxiously against the table, he was hoping to see the witcher finish it off for him.

“Going to eat that?” Geralt spoke around a mouthful of chicken.

He had inched past satisfied a few bites ago, but he could keep going comfortably enough, and he so desperately wanted to see how Jaskier was going to react to his more deliberate goading. Geralt watched while Jaskier blushed and tried his best to act as though he had not been hoping to hear that exact question. It had been painfully obvious. Their many years together had given Geralt the ability to be able to read Jaskier like an open book. Sometimes, it was useful, likely saving Jaskier from some fights when Geralt was able to pick up on the body language that meant foolish determination or rising anger, but other times, like in that moment, it was simply amusing.

“Come now, love, you can’t possibly still be hungry,” Jaskier teased. Somewhat unexpectedly, it sent a jolt down Geralt’s spine. The witcher made a noise somewhat like a little growl, and his pupils widened. Jaskier did a much poorer job of veiling his own smirk. Perfect. Geralt was baiting him, and he was falling for it so easily. “I know you’ve been eating a great deal lately, but honestly … you’re getting greedy.”

Geralt’s heart fluttered nearly as quickly as a human’s as Jaskier scraped the rest of his food onto Geralt’s plate. By then, Jaskier seemed to have accepted that it was useless to hide his interest. He sat with his elbows braced against the table and his jaw cradled in his palms, alluring blue eyes fixed unwaveringly on Geralt. Near the end of his meal, Geralt was at last starting to struggle, the fact that his armor clung to him a bit more than he would have preferred only keeping it pinned in the forefront of his mind just how full he was. Jaskier’s reddened cheeks had only grown more vivid, the color even dusting the tips of his ears. Geralt rarely saw the bard so silent, so unwaveringly focused, usually only when he was in the middle of a fit of intense writing inspiration, and while Geralt felt scrutinized, he was actually enjoying it. Feeling bold, he grunted around his last mouthful and then reclined back in his chair, hoping to give Jaskier a glimpse of his distended belly where it strained against his clothes. Judging from the look on the bard’s face, it had worked.

“Are you finally satisfied, then?” Jaskier asked, and something about his tone of voice had something hot and exciting churning in the pit of Geralt’s stomach. He sounded almost condescending, but in the most deliciously arousing way possible.

“Mhm.” It was little more than a grunt.

Jaskier evidently had very little regard for how sluggish Geralt was looking. Lithe fingers curled around Geralt’s wrist and tugged insistently, and although Geralt easily could have kept himself planted in place if he had truly wanted to, he allowed Jaskier to haul him up onto his feet and lead him upstairs. Such a short trip normally would never have affected him, but with a full stomach weighing him down, Geralt found himself panting softly by the time he and Jaskier had reached their room. Distracted by the unfamiliar feeling of his trousers digging into his skin so tightly that it was almost painful, Geralt had little time to react before he was suddenly backed up against the closed door and drawn into a heated kiss.

“Jask --” Geralt breathed, cut off abruptly by yet another kiss.

Clearly, he had guessed right. Jaskier did enjoy that display, even more than Geralt had been anticipating. Soon, Geralt gave up on speaking, and he yielded to the kiss, lips parting for a teasing swipe of Jaskier’s tongue through his mouth. There was a pleasant warmth against Geralt’s middle that he soon recognized as Jaskier’s hands, kneading gently through stiff leather.

“Look at you,” Jaskier murmured. Geralt bit back a dry remark about how it was difficult to do that with the bard plastered up against him. “You’re getting so big.”

A thrill ran through Geralt at that. He curled his hands around Jaskier’s slender hips and squeezed, drawing him in closer, and Jaskier gasped against his lips. In truth, Geralt did not look too terribly different than he usually did, but there had been a little tone of hopefulness in Jaskier’s voice, a subtle but unmistakable hint that he wanted more. The next few seconds seemed to blur together, but somehow, Geralt had ended up spread out on the bed, staring up into Jaskier’s darkened eyes where he had perched himself on Geralt’s hips. Jaskier’s usually agile fingers trembled with anticipation as he worked Geralt out of his armor, putting him on blatant display. Where he had once been all sharp angles and overly defined muscles, he had accumulated a small layer of padding, and most noticeable of all at the moment was the rounded curve of his belly, warm and full and demanding Jaskier’s complete attention. His hands smoothed over it, rubbing and exploring, interspersed with little appreciative pats and scratches.

“Knew you were doing it on purpose,” Geralt said. Much to his amusement, Jaskier actually looked shocked. “Weren’t very subtle about it.”

“Yes, well --” Jaskier paused, seeming to be struggling to decide on what to say. Eventually, he just huffed, then decided to deflect and taunted, “Are you sure you aren’t just a glutton?”

Geralt smirked. Without any warning, he rolled over, pinning Jaskier beneath him. He heard Jaskier’s pulse flutter. A heated fantasy sped through Geralt’s mind, thoughts of how easily he could subdue Jaskier, how much stronger and bigger Geralt was, how much deep trust it took for Jaskier to lay himself out so vulnerable for a witcher, a predator. Jaskier’s arms snaked around him, and his hands splayed out over Geralt’s shoulder blades. Geralt laid heavier against him and growled in his ear just to feel Jaskier squirm. Jaskier would be unable to get away even if he wanted to with Geralt’s full weight holding him down. Oddly, that was a deeply pleasurable thought, and Geralt had very quickly decided that he would take no issue with it if Jaskier wanted to keep feeding him, making him broader and heavier still, only further exaggerating that contrast between the two of them. If the way Geralt could feel Jaskier’s hardening cock digging into his thigh was any indication, they were in agreement on that.

“Going to get me something good for breakfast tomorrow?” Geralt purred into Jaskier’s ear.

Jaskier groaned, hooked his legs around Geralt’s waist to grind their hips together, and moved one hand to tangle into the witcher’s hair. His opposite hand snuck downwards, and he pinched at the slight, growing plushness at Geralt’s hip.

“Certainly. You’re just wasting away.”

Geralt’s mouth was far too busy then for any proper response.

#fic #prompt fill #HI THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE #thank u :)

[himbowelsh]

Would you be willing at all to do a similar thing to the BoB boys falling in love for the Pacific boys? Or if that’s too much maybe just Leckies crew? Please and thank you if you do! ✨✌🏻🥳🦖🍰🎉🤸🏼‍♀️🍺🍆🦷🦞🌈🗿

of course!!  i love all of these boys, so getting to write any headcanons for them is a treat and privilege  (and how could i say no to all those emojis?)

Robert Leckie

more confident than he has any right to be.

umm, excuse you sir, the wedding ring isn’t on their finger yet, hold your goddamn horse

bob is vocal about his affection.  actually, he’s kind of a loudmouth about it; when he’s in love, all his friends get to hear about it.  his diary gets to hear about it.  his dog gets to hear about it, and he’s pretty sure hoosier jr couldn’t care less.   if someone’s willing to listen, bob’s gonna wax poetic.

the louder he proclaims his love, the more real it feels to him...  concrete, like the next torrential rainstorm or wicked nightmare isn’t going to wash it away.   bob’s confidence isn’t a front  ---  he’s really just like that  ---  but there’s more underneath than meets the eye.

he likes to dedicate his writing to them.  while he eventually grows out of the love poems phase  (the smartest choice of his literary career)  his love interest remains his muse.   he’ll bounce his ideas off of them, seek out their opinions on the things he’s written...  yes, he’s hungry for their attention, but knowing that they’ll be reading gives him the motivation to write better.

he’ll rarely admit his feelings outright, always dancing around it in smirks and sly double-entendres.   is he talking about how great the filet mignon at this restaurant is, or that he wants to get married soon? knowing him, both, and that’s exactly what he wants to leave them wondering.

Runner Conley

runner in love is very earnest.  he doesn’t feel the need to brag  ---  sure, his friends can tell just by looking at him, but how he feels for the person he cares about is their business alone.   

still, he can’t help talking about them.   they’re on his mind so much that he’ll just bring them up out of the blue  ---   his crush said this, his crush thinks that, this reminds him of the time he and his crush did blah-blah-blah...  he completely gives himself away.    his friends will take the piss out of him, but runner legit doesn’t even notice he’s doing it; he can’t stop.

he is right there with the favors.  they need a ride somewhere?  they need something picked up at the store?  just tell him, and he’ll do it, no questions asked.  he gets things done in record time.  (meanwhile, leckie asked to borrow his can opener two weeks ago, and runner still hasn’t gotten around to it. the preference is clear.)

loves to just spend time with them.  he’ll ask to hang out all the time, inventing excuses just to spend time together.  being in their space, enjoying their presence, is the best part about being in love for him.

Hoosier Smith

hoosier’s love is measured in tolerance.   if he’s willing to spend time around somebody, he likes 'em. if he’ll spend the whole day with 'em, he’s head-over-heels.

lowkey, no one would be able to tell hoosier’s falling in love.  he plays his emotions close to his chest, and doesn’t analyze them too much.  yeah, he’s caught feelings, but no sense making a big deal out of it.  they’ll probably go away on their own.

except they don’t, and the more they grow, the easier hoosier finds it is to be around them.  he’s not taxed by their presence, and hardly ever annoyed with them; it’s easy to banter with them, and when they laugh at his quips he feels all warm inside.  it’s weird.  he’s not sure he likes it.  but damn him if he wants it to end.

the day he finds himself eager to hang out with them...  he knows he’s done for.

hoosier is much more relaxed around the person he loves. all his blunt edges have softened; he’s a little gentler with them, a little fonder.  he’s not loud about it at all, but as soon as his partner picks up on it, his love becomes obvious.

Chuckler Juergens

he has absolutely no filter, and there is no way he can hold these emotions in.  when chuckler is in love, it’s like a golden retriever with a crush.

everything they do is amazing in his eyes.  he has to actively work to recognize their flaws; for a while, he definitely wears rose-tinted glasses when it comes to his love interest.  he just loves so sincerely, with his whole body, that holding it in threatens to overwhelm him. 

that said, he doesn’t rush into love.  it builds up slowly in him.  he can’t really say he loves someone until he’s known them for a while.  by then, they’re pretty comfortable around each other, and on a level of intimacy that he doesn’t feel shy admitting it when he’s certain.  (he also wouldn’t have luck hiding it if he tried; to all his friends, chuckler’s pretty transparent.)

he laughs at all their jokes, and would go miles out of his way for them if they just asked for it.  his smile is always broader around them, painfully genuine.  chuckler’s a social guy, so he loves being out in crowds, but around the person he loves he loves it when it’s just the two of them.

he needs his partner to say “i love you” first, but he’ll say everything but.  “you look amazing today,”; “no one dance like as you,”; “i could spend every night like this with you”.    he’s confessed his feelings a dozen times over before the word “love” ever passes between them.

Sid Phillips

sid genuinely enjoys falling in love.  it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience, right?  (for most people  ---  his aunt janine has fallen in love four times and counting, but if she were the gold standard for romance, she’d still be invited to the phillips family christmases.)

he kind of becomes...  not oblivious to everything else, but his mind is very clearly in another place.  he’s not as sensitive to his other friends’ feelings; he drops plans without much notice because he’d rather be with the person he loves.  sid falling in love becomes self-absorbed without realizing it, and would have to be snapped out of it by a well intentioned  (very annoyed)  friend.

with his partner, however, he’s tender.  sid is a very good listener, empathetic and kind; he’s open about his feelings from the start, valuing communication in a relationship, and nothing makes him grin harder than hearing his partner feels the same way.

sid is a gentleman  ---  he’s eager to help them out with anything they need.  he’s very conscientious of his partner’s feelings, careful not to overstep boundaries.  he wouldn’t do anything, even kiss, unless his partner gave him plenty of encouragement.

Eugene Sledge

eugene does not all in love easily.  it takes him a long time to ease into it.  he doesn’t tumble head-over-heels, so much as cautiously inch down the mountain, taking frequent breaks to have a snack and psyche himself up.

somehow, he’s quieter around the person he loves.  it’s noticeable because he wasn’t always like this.  eugene as a friend is quite different to eugene as a lover, more tentative and tender in all the ways that count.  he gets...  not shy, really, but more reserved around them.  he doesn’t want to let his feelings show, so the casual banter and easy dynamic they used to have grows stiff and uncomfortable.  he’ll jump through hoops to avoid hanging out alone with them.

why is he doing this?  god help him, even he’s not sure.

if anyone confronts him about it, he’ll get mad.  of course he’s not treating them any differently!  this is how he’s always been, he’s fine  ---   but just as quickly as he flares up for his own sake, he’ll get even more riled over any slight to his loved one.  being in love awakes a defensiveness eugene never realized he had.  suddenly, he’d do anything for his partner’s sake.

it takes a while for eugene to come to terms with his feelings, and trust himself enough to love.  hopefully his partner’s patient  ---  and straightforward about their feelings, because eugene’s probably going to need a push.

Snafu Shelton

his crush starts finding weird gifts hidden around their house, and no, they have no clue how they got there.  

merriell’s not a romantic, okay?  he doesn’t know how all that wooing-and-courting works, but he gets the general idea.  nothing romantic about coming up to someone and saying outright   ‘your hair looks like it’d be cozy to wear as a sweater, when you smile i want to touch your teeth, this feels like love’.  like.  it’s all true, but that doesn’t mean he can say it.

frankly, he’s still cursing himself for falling in love in the first place, because merriell did not sign up for all this mushy-gushy feeling stuff.  

some people just...  aren’t meant to fall in love, and he’s one of them.  not love that feels like this, that feels...  so real.  it scares him.   he doesn’t know what to do about it.

he’s a weak man, though.  it’s not like he can just stay away.  merriell can’t help but want to be around them constantly, looking over their shoulder and watching out for them; he’s fascinated by them, and it only grows more obvious as the feelings continue to swell in his chest.

so, he sneaks tiny gifts  ---  things he finds or things he likes, things that make him think of them  ---  in their stuff, and watches raptly when they find it.  no, he’s not gonna confess to leaving them there.  it’s just...  nice to watch.

he stares at them for a long time  ---  not unusual for him, to be fair  ---  but when they look up, he looks away immediately.  very out of character, and honestly more unnerving than if he just kept staring.

able to carry on like normal, unless the topic of romance is brought up at all.  then he gets ornery and annoyed, especially if his love interest talks about any past romantic relationships.  he’s possessive in love, especially because he’s not sure where he stands in the other person’s affections.  merriell hates the idea of them with anyone else, but can’t really believe they’d want to be with him.

RV Burgin

well, next to the hot messes that are sledge and snafu, burgie’s a disney prince.

literally, he goes so far out of his way to not make the person he loves uncomfortable.  he’s a gentleman to his core.  the idea of caring for someone who doesn’t feel the same way stings  ---   but even worse is the idea that he could be forcing affection on someone who doesn’t want it.

because of this, he might keep it all a bit too much to himself.  he won’t come out and say it, and will be notably more hesitant around them.  no casual touches  ---   if he accidentally does, he’ll draw back like he’s been burned.  if his friends  (re:  snafu and leyden)  say anything perverted around them, he’ll quickly steer the conversation away.

still, it would be impossible to think he isn’t interested.  sometimes he can’t help staring at his love interest, eyes warm in admiration...  and when they catch him, he holds their gaze for a moment, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face, before looking away.

oh yeah, he’s a goner.

when he does let his feelings slip out, it’s always quick and sincere.   “you’re the strongest person i know,” he says once, while trying to encourage them in his typical burgie way;   “i admire you very much.”   he gives compliments without meaning to, or even realizing how he’s selling himself out.  he’s just so besotted that he can’t help it.

Jay De L'Eau

he gets nervous, he gets clumsy, and he gets giggly.  this is a horrible combination.

he once knocked over an entire candle, set a curtain on fire, and was desperately trying to laugh it off while stomping the flames out...  all because he crush complimented him.

jay wants to look cool in front of his love interest, but he’s decidedly not.  poor boy hasn’t got a chance.   there isn’t a suave bone in his body, and no one knows this as well as jay.

so, he becomes earnest instead.  he’s always on hand to do favors for them, always willing to help out whenever he needs it  ---  jay could be corralled into doing couple’s yoga with little resistance, just because his love interest wants to.

this extreme generosity can get exhausting after a while  ---  he really has to figure out how to rein it in  ---   but if it shows how much he appreciates them?  and if it means he gets to spend extra time with them?  yeah, jay doesn’t regret a thing.

Bill Leyden

he’s being???  nice??  leyden’s being nice??

his friends check him for a fever.  they worry he’s been lobotomized.  clearly he’s been abducted by aliens and replaced with a pod person!

leyden is a prickly bastard in general...  but when he’s falling in love, the entire world is puppydogs and rainbows, and he’ll sing showtunes to the heavens.

he’s just so much happier when he’s falling in love.  it’s hard not to spread that happiness around.  he has way more patience for his friends’ bullshit, and is eager to listen to their problems and offer his  (still very leyden-esque)  advice.

god forbid when his love interest’s actually present.  leyden doesn’t have eyes for anyone else; it’s all about them, and he’s a goddamn prince to them.  peeling fruit for them, laughing at all their jokes, making cow-eyes...  he turns into the person he’d be disgusted by in any other circumstance.

Andrew Haldane

it’s all about the emotional intimacy, boys.

andy could never truly fall in love with someone until he already knows them very well; he has to be comfortable with them, to have an easy rapport.  understanding each other is the first step to winning his heart.

he definitely gets a sparkle around them, though.  he just looks brighter, younger, less burdened by his many responsibilities.  maybe it’s because he knows he can share them with his partner...  but andy feels so much lighter when he’s with them.

he’s very generous with his praise. when they do something well, he lets them know it; the last thing he’d want is for them not to understand how much he appreciates them, how valuable they are to him, how glad he is to have them close...

absolutely overthinks it.  he’ll turn his feelings over and over in his head for ages, trying to process them before admitting anything out loud?  is this real?  is this plausible?  are they both in the right place in life to be in love?  do they really love him back?  he’s not an indecisive man, but he puts so much thought into this that eventually, a friend like hillbilly would need to shake him a bit, and tell him to just go for it.

Hillbilly Jones

he’s not going to say it outright.  he’d rather eat a live squid than do something that dumb.   when hillbilly feels himself falling for someone, he grips a railing all the way down.

anything they need, he’s there to do.  his affection reveals itself through how quick he is to help the person he likes.  loyalty drives his urge to make their life easier.  if they need some repairs done around the house, or some errands taken care of, he’ll offer to do them without a second thought.   “not a problem,”  he replies with a tiny smile when they worry he’s going to too much trouble.   after all, he wouldn’t do it for just anyone.

master of wordless communication.  his love interest doesn’t need to hear things outright from him, because they become well-acquainted with all of hillbilly’s various (extremely sarcastic)  faces.  he loves this easy communication.

he’ll talk them up to anyone who needs to hear it.  hillbilly does not take kindly to his partner being disparaged, under any circumstances.  it’s not overprotectiveness, he’ll insist to himself  ---  the protection is completely warranted, and he’s not ashamed to punch someone if his partner’s good name is on the line.

John Basilone

he gets all the points for persistence.  

john’s greatest virtue is his determination.  no matter what the world throws at him, or how many ways it tries to kill him, he’s going to keep going until he physically cannot anymore.

and...  not gonna lie, there are moments when he sees his love interest smile, and it feels like he’s been shot through the chest.  he’s got to stop, just to catch his breath, because they sweep the ground out from under his feet. 

the first time it happens, he knows he’s in love.  yeah, he knew he liked them already, but...  like and love are different things.  he likes his mama’s panna cotta, but he’s not going to marry it.

when john’s falling for someone, it’s important to him that they know it.  no beating around the bush for him; if they don’t feel the same way, they can respond however they like, but they’ve at least got to know.

he misses no opportunity to make his admiration clear.  if they do something impressive, he’s the loudest voice on the sidelines cheering them on;  if it’s their birthday or a holiday, he hands his gift to them personally, with that irrepressible charming grin.  

john is very confident in love, but he’s also very optimistic.  it’s not that he’s never been rejected before, or can’t take it...   he just genuinely doesn’t believe his heart can break.

#sledgefu: battle of 'i dont know how to be in love' vs 'i dont know if im SUPPOSED to love' #the pacific #headcanons

[dishearteningmediocrity]

I haven't seen anyone post this interview with Colin Clive before, and it's quite a good one. So anyway, here's an article from the Birmingham News-Age-Herald on March 4, 1934, written by Gladys Baker. The text might be kind of hard to read, so here's a transcript. (I didn't transcribe the other article about May Robson, so apologies to all you May Robson fanatics out there; let me know and I will do it):

“Gotham’s Matinee Idol: Colin Clive” By Gladys Baker, Special Correspondent to The Birmingham News-Age-Herald

New York--Today when no man is a hero either in fiction or the theater unless he has robbed a bank or murdered his grandmother it is a welcome relief to find a man who is a “gentleman” in all that the word implies.

I am speaking of Colin Clive. His personality and very fine work as the leading man in “The Lake,” the Katharine Hepburn play, made me insinuate my way back stage to his dressing room to find out if he (like the very careful Camille) were two different persons “off stage and on.”

I found a charming, ingenuous young man who looks as if there were so much more he could say--if he would.

My job was to make him say it!

Clive is tall. His eyes are very deep blue and very alive. Hard eyes to fathom. His manner rather shy, but delightful. After offering cigarets and a highball (Englishmen I’ve noticed have a sense of Southern hospitality!) we started talking about the theater.

The inevitable question: “Why did you go on the stage?”

“Why does anybody do anything? My family were all army people--members of the Bengal Lancers--and I was in the army until a smashed knee wrote finis to that.” (and now I knew the reason of that limp which has been described by some as a romantic pose).

“Then I landed in London job hunting. That is the obvious reason, but of course, knee or no knee, I would eventually have come to it. That inner urge that makes a man paint, write, or go in for sculpturing, was unconsciously driving me in that direction.”

He smiled--no, laughed. “Lord, but I was pretty awful in the beginning. Only, 10 years of repertory cured me of that--I mean my worse faults.”

“You believe in repertory, then?”

“It is the only thing. It is necessary, it is absolutely essential if a person wants to become a first-rate actor. Without repertory background I would never have dared attempt ‘Journey’s End’!”

It was Mr. Clive’s interpretation of the leading character in “Journey’s End” which established him in London’s inner circle known as “Artists of the Theater.”

He belongs to the thinkers of the stage. He can stay perfectly quiet during a scene and makes his audience think with him. He plays always with a fine restraint and a sympathy which communicates itself definitely. He is one of those rare persons who can play an entire scene with his back to the footlights and still dominate the stage.

Actresses have told me of his great generosity--speaking in the vernacular of stage folks--he does not try to steal the show.

*****

He is modest, almost to a fault, and is embarrassed at praise. I spoke of his excellent work in the movies. He said: “Sheer luck. I really don’t know anything about movie technique--the theater, perhaps--but I’ve been doing that for 16 years.”

Nevertheless he has made such a name for himself in the cinema that in the last six weeks three of the major companies have been bidding for his services. Warner Brothers won. He leaves Sunday morning for Hollywood and the Warner lot.

“Monday, I start the ‘Key,’ with Edna Best and beyond the first scene I’m entirely ignorant of the play. What a marvelous country you are!” He laughed and then grew serious again. “That is all right for me, for I’m a hardened sinner, but for beginners who suddenly find themselves facing big parts with no experience to help them, it is not an easy task. Those who have the real stuff win but they are the exception. The screen like the stage is beginning to demand experience from its actors.”

“Acting is a whole time job. There is more to it than the casual observer would think. The layman doesn’t realize for instance that the well modulated voice that he hears from the stage or the screen is the result of many tedious hours spent in coaching under voice culturists. The rhythm, grace of movement is not just a gift from the gods but is gained from well trained muscles--the outcome of daily sports or calisthenics.”

“Don’t you ever feel the need of relaxation?” I asked.

“Yes,” he smiled, “actors are only human after all. I find mine mostly in reading.”

This hobby was not surprising for I had been told that whenever a friend of his becomes ill that instead of the usual boxes from confectioners and florists he sends books by his favorite authors: Victor Hugo, Anatole France and Voltaire.

Noting a bottle of brandy on his dressing table, I asked him if he found liquor necessary as a stimulant for his work.

“No, the actor who must get his inspiration from a bottle of liquor finds himself in the same place that a business man of the same habits would find himself in. For acting is a business and dependability one of the chief assets. However, that doesn’ t mean that I’m a teetotler--drink has a good place in life.”

***

Among his best friends are Edna Best, Herbert Marshall, and Noel Coward--all of whom are his near neighbors in Kent, where he has a country place. He’s really a gregarious person. He refuses even to have breakfast alone. Found in that position he postpones the breaking of his fast until a congenial companion is annexed.

Another sport he enjoys is prizefighting. In fact, his first choice for the film-of-the-year would be “The Prizefighter and the Lady” (which showed in Birmingham as “The Conquering Sex”). It is testimony to his acting adaptability that he came straight from parts in musical comedy (“Rose Marie” and “Show Boat”) and created the dramatic role of Capt. Stanhope in “Journey’s End.” After which he played in “Overture,” a play written by one of his closest friends--the late William Bolitho.

This adaptability extends likewise to his geographical adjustment. “For the last six years I’ve practically commuted between London, New York and Hollywood. If it’s possible, I always go by plane.” He is one of the few movie celebrities on the coast who refuses to sign a long-term contract. One picture is all any company can be sure of his services. Tactfully he admitted that he disliked playing in the cinema. “One never gets the same reaction from the screen as you do from having an audience right close up.”

I ventured to ask about the “leading lady”--not of the stage or cinema--but of his own life.

“She’s not easy to describe,” he said earnestly. “I suppose you would call her a brunette, for her hair is dark, very dark and slightly bobbed except about the ears; she has deep, understanding eyes…”

“Oh” excitedly, “an Italian beauty?”

He threw back his head and laughed, really in a most un-British gesture. “No, to tell the truth this lady who rules my life is from Scotland--”

“Oh!”

Another merry laugh: “You see I’m speaking of my little Scotch terrier, ‘Brenda,’ who really makes a slave of me.”

Having had his joke he told me about his wife. She is a charming French woman who prefers life in Europe to “commuting” about the world with her celebrated husband. It is not as unusual as it sounds that Clive should have chosen a wife with Gallic ancestry since his own early life was passed entirely among French people. In fact, until he was 6 years old his vocabulary included not a single word of English.

#Colin Clive #being terribly charming and modest #and slightly odd #interview #1934 #the lake #Brenda returns!

[snowbellewells]

“The Case of the Heart in Armor”  {Part Five}

Wow, it’s hard to believe that I started this fic last fall for @csrolereversal​ and am just now getting close to the conclusion. A lot of other things have jumped in line ahead of it, but I am still really enjoying this one, and I hope those who are still reading it will continue to as well. Only one more part to go after this!

Thank you once again for the patience of @courtorderedcake​ for the lovely and inspiring art which birthed the idea and started it all!

Summary: Killian “Holmes” Jones is rarely surprised or shocked anymore, but that all changes when he meets one very stubborn - and very beautiful - pickpocket, and trouble brews in the distance, hidden by the London fog…

From the Beginning: on Tumblr HERE or on AO3 HERE

Part Five

The next morning found Inspector David Nolan once more within his well-appointed office at the Yard; this time not fruitlessly scrutinizing scattered photos for missed details, but pacing the length of the room with the restless energy of a caged beast. His walk to headquarters through a chill drizzle as dawn was just beginning to lighten the grey English morning, had been wet and cold, but nothing out of the ordinary for rainy London weather. Granted, he had barely slept that night, surely disturbing his sweet, compassionate wife. She had risen earlier than was her wont as well, making him a hearty breakfast and holding on more tightly than usual as she saw him on his way.  He had been at work long before it was necessary, but it still did not explain why his second-in-command and his sister had not arrived for their meeting as scheduled; Emma to report anything she might have noticed on the streets in her previous evening’s scouting work, and David then intended to share with them both the clue he and Jones had uncovered.

Of course, he tried to recognize that his frustration was heightened, his patience not at the level he would normally attempt to exercise, and that they were merely a scant few minutes late.  All the same, it was completely unlike Watson to be anything but prompt, following his superior’s orders to the letter (often even anticipating David’s wishes or going above and beyond in fulfilling them). It went against all established character for Graham to be tardy or forgetful, and though he did have a pleasant and more relaxed side to his personality once he grew comfortable with others, Watson was never careless. The fact that he had been meant to swing by Emma’s building and accompany her in, made Nolan’s already high tension all the more volatile. Though he knew his adopted sister could handle herself - had more than one permanent scar upon his person to attest to the fact - David Nolan would not be appeased until both Graham and Emma were present before him.

Even as he was thinking that very thing, pacing back over to the window to peer out upon the dreary sidewalk and damp grass in front of the imposing building in which he stood, Nolan heard the quick flurry of rushing footsteps at his door before it was flung open to admit his lieutenant’s abrupt entrance. 

Whirling with all senses on the alert, David’s shoulders only lowered a bit in relief to find Watson standing in the doorway. Eyes wide and searching as they scanned the office anxiously, Graham panted slightly from clear exertion, his face worried and paler than usual. The deputy’s wheaten curls were riotously mussed and in disarray from his hands raking through them, as he proceeded to do once more upon seeing his boss was the only person in the room. “Isn’t she here?” he asked worriedly.

David shook his head tersely. “No, she isn’t. I thought you were going by there to walk in with her?” He tried to keep the bite of recrimination from his words, but winced internally at the way Graham dipped his head to avoid his eyes, knowing he must not have succeeded.

“I did go by her building. Rang for her several times, in fact. I got no answer and wasn’t sure how to proceed. Eventually, the building’s landlady came to the main door and let me in, but even going directly to her door, knocking and calling for her repeatedly brought no response. I couldn’t very well pick the lock and break in with the matron standing right there. I assumed - well, hoped really - that she had gotten an early start and was already here with you.” His words died out on the obvious conclusion that, not only was Emma not present, but she clearly had not been at her home either, or if so, was somehow unable to answer. The implication was chilling, to say the least. Their plan for the morning had been concocted between the two of them to see Emma safe but not make her feel coddled, doubted, kept on a leash, or watched like a child. All the same, now something might well be wrong, and they had been none the wiser.

“Send a runner to Jones’ residence. Holmes was here late last night; he saw Emma home from her undercover work, then wanted to discuss the last victim. We found something I was anxious to share with you. I’ll fill you in on the way, but we should get moving and figure out where Emma’s gotten off to. Have him meet us at her building as soon as possible - at least it’s a place to start.”

Graham gave a bob of the head and stepped into the lobby to flag down the needed messenger. Then both men were out the door and on their way again within moments; concern lending speed to their steps amidst hopes they were not too late. What neither man wanted to say was that Emma had likely not gone anywhere on her own - at least not of her own free will.

~~~~~~~~~~***

‘Holmes’ Jones met the Inspector and his friend Watson at Miss Nolan’s apartment, looking more rattled and concerned than David Nolan ever remembered witnessing; of course, he had done some research on the gentleman detective before reaching out to consult him in official police business. He had looked into the other man’s affairs well enough to know that there had been early abandonment, a less than savory romantic entanglement ended abruptly in a suspicious death, and a past proclivity to drown the memory of said losses in drink before his elder brother had lured him into an undersecretary position a few years back and seemingly given Killian Jones the rudder he needed to steady his course and once more find purpose. Said gentleman had eventually quit the position with his only known kin to go into his current private investigative endeavors, but it appeared that since his point of turnabout, Jones had maintained utter control of his more tempestuous impulses from the past. In fact, Nolan had often thought him rather cool and detached in his manner, unless he was employing charm and his handsome face to coax a witness into talking or to trip up a suspect. The inspector realized now that perhaps Jones’ business-like, emotionless distance had been a carefully arranged mask that was  slipping away.

Killian Jones, for his part, could not help cursing his own negligence at simply walking away and leaving Emma at her doorstep the previous night, as if there were not a care in their worlds. Granted, she had been fine when they parted company; no doubt she would have balked at him insisting to see her all the way up to her private apartments as though it had been some blushing first date. The place had seemed normal and undisturbed - no signs of commotion or threat, no uneasy tingling at his nape (which once he could have depended on to give fair warning) - and so he had let it go, not wanting to push the tentative peace between himself and the prickly beauty.

However, fear for her safety and rampant self-loathing licked at the edges of his mind like ravenous ghouls in the changed circumstances of morning light. Had someone been lying in wait for her return home? How would said person have gained entrance? Or did a villain watch and wait until she was alone, asleep and off her guard, to break in and overpower her? Suddenly, Killian knew all too many details and statistics of this case and uncounted others to let that train of thought travel further without losing all composure.

The three men stood in Emma’s living room searching for anything which might provide a clue as to what had happened and how she had been accosted. Neither her door nor windows showed any sign of forced entry. The apartment reflected the comfortable clutter of a lived-in home, but it was free of the broken and scattered shambles that would indicate a struggle. Had Emma been overwhelmed before she could even attempt to fight back?  Just as they had all feared, she seemed to have disappeared without a fight, in the midst of a case - something the feisty blonde they all held dear would never have allowed to happen without scratching and clawing and raising an alarm in her own defense if she were able.

That coupled with the discovery he and Nolan had made the night before was more than enough to set Killian well and truly on edge. Not only that, and the creeping fear that it was all connected, but an old memory of a disturbed individual whispered of some year before began to niggle at the corners of his mind. It had never become an official case - the clues and questions frighteningly sparse and circumstantial at best, but… there was a troubling echo of the deaths then with the ones they were seeing now. Holmes was just debating the efficacy of sharing his suspicions when the Inspector sat heavily on the large chest at the foot of his sister’s bed. His voice was weary as he looked down with unnecessary focus on his large hands clasped uselessly in his lap.

A deep sigh left him, broad shoulders slumped as David Nolan began, in a voice much softer than Killian had ever heard the officer use. “I don’t want to think this… and yet...I can’t in good conscience not tell you both that I fear Emma is in the hands of our killer.” His words were interspersed with reluctant pauses, but he continued. “She... she would want to strangle me…” Here he shook his head, looking almost boyish when some long ago memory caused a small grin to transform his face for mere seconds before slipping away once more. “If she knew I was telling you this...Emma would have my head...but let’s just say… she could easily be the ‘heart in armor’ from the clue we found.”

Graham at Nolan’s right side looked uncertain, brow furrowed as he considered his boss’ words. “Sire, no disrespect, I know she is tough and guarded, to be sure, but what makes her more so than many others?”

Killian arched a brow, surprised and rather impressed that Watson was going to push his superior for further explanation. Granted, he had wondered the same - especially since he had privately believed the clue was referring to him up until Emma’s disappearance at least. Still, he had figured he would need to ask the question himself.

Nolan ran a sharp, frustrated palm back over his close-cropped head, his agitation and discomfort growing continually clearer. “It wasn’t just that she was picking pockets on the streets to survive when Mum and I found her,” he murmured, forcing out the rest. “She wasn’t merely homeless; she’d never had a home at all...or anyone who cared how she was...if she were hurt...or angry...or afraid. There had been someone… an older boy who preyed on that...said he loved her. Then he betrayed what little trust she had for anyone… and left her with a baby… that she lost. She never told even me any more than that. So, yes, there is armor a foot thick and a mile wide around that heart of hers.”

Graham flushed and looked away, abashed and silenced as if he had forced Nolan to talk in the precinct box. Killian too blew out a stunned breath, well aware from just her small tells and the feeling of kinship with her he couldn’t ignore - despite their heated sparring - that Emma Nolan’s life must have been anything but easy. Still, he had not expected that depth of tragedy and pain. He was almost embarrassed to have assumed his own losses would have left a larger mark.

“Aye,” he murmured reluctantly, pursing his lips in troubled thought as he continued to scan the room around them, hoping to find something amiss or out of place, anything that might give them a lead as to where Emma might be now. “I can understand why such treatment might make anyone put up walls,” he finally added, coming to stand near the door and at last reluctantly admitting that there was nothing in the small apartment of any help to them.

Looking from one of his companions to the other intently, Killian bypassed his original theory - his own heart being the needed target. With Emma was missing and what David had shared, it seemed unlikely and a waste of their time. Instead he licked his lips, cautiously preparing himself to speak on the other odd connection that had been growing and solidifying in his mind.  That half remembered case’s detailed were coming clearer as he pulled at the thread of recall. It had been suspected that the perpetrator had espoused the mad gothic ideas of reanimation, much like had been written of in Mary Shelley’s popular novel. He didn’t know any sensible way to broach such an outlandish theory outright with his colleagues, so instead he swept his gaze over to Graham’s face and queried, “Do you remember that mad tale Frankenstein which was all the rage some years back?”

He was banking on the fact that his friend enjoyed those same eerie Victorian authors Liam did, having heard them discuss many such fictional works over scotch or brandy in Liam’s study countless evenings while a fire roared in the hearth and they idled a while in companionable talk before night’s end. He was honestly hoping Graham would know of the twisted story so he would not sound to both men as though he were making up his next conjecture from pure imagination.

Graham’s forehead creased in curious thought, but he nodded, warming to the topic just as Killian had intended. “Yes, I remember it. The main character - a doctor, but more like a mad scientist - creates a man from parts of grave robbed corpses. Hair-raising, genuinely. The author claimed the entire thing came to her as a nightmare, and I would believe it.” He shook his head, then continued, “However, the doctor does bring the inanimate body back to life with electricity from lightning.” Graham’s voice trailed off, eyes widening as he stared back at Killian, understanding dawning on his face. “Surely you don’t mean…?”

Killian didn’t answer aloud. It was clear exactly what he was coming to believe.

Inspector Nolan looked between the two, his lieutenant and his consultant, with increasing impatience and frustration. “Mean what?” he prodded intensely, standing with hands fisted at his side and looking ready to take a swing at one, or both, of them if they didn’t start to explain. “One of you had better tell me what you’re getting at and how it ties to this case, and Emma, before I lose my patience.”

Sighing, Killian stepped forward to face the police officer he had come to genuinely respect and hold in high esteem. He and Liam had not had an easy start in life, as boys and young men who had encountered many coppers, lawyers, and others in positions of power who were as selfish, cruel, and crooked as David was straight and true. It was a new thing to look at this man and know that he truly upheld the law in order to stand for and protect those who could not protect themselves.

Killian hated the picture taking shape in his mind from a mixture of long-buried reminiscence and unsolved cases, but he owed it to them to offer all the information he had. “I’ll explain, Mate,” he assured Nolan in a clipped, heavy tone, clasping his shoulder for a moment before dropping his hand again, “but brace yourself. I’ll wager it’s going to sound a preposterous tale.”

David nodded curtly, crossing his arms over his broad chest and widening his stance as if to tackle whatever Killian said head on. 

“Some years back, when I still worked under my brother in his diplomatic office, there were several suspicious deaths in a single fall and winter. All nameless victims, homeless, without any identification, anything to go on. The distinguishing factor tying them together was… the absence of a vital organ. There were also whispers - rumor and conjecture only, most thought - of an ambassador’s wife who dabbled in the occult and alchemy. Nothing concrete was ever found in order to charge her... but I met her, and the ambassador and their two grown daughters as well,  at more than one political function when I was serving under Liam. It was not something which could be quantified, and shame on me, I did not pursue it. But she could freeze a man’s blood in his veins with a glance; there was truly something unnatural and unsettling about her - a Mrs. Cora Millsen, her name was. I kept my distance beyond a few necessary conversations. I could see she had intent to strike up an arrangement between myself and her younger daughter, Regine, and began to beg off engagements assisting Liam where the family would be in attendance. The ambassador himself, Henrik, was a pleasant fellow, honest and well-liked enough that most overlooked his peculiar family, as he was the one they had dealings with. I cannot say I made the connection until it began to prick my memory with this present case’s similarities, and its same lack of conclusive evidence. Perhaps most horrifying though was that the seemingly unsolvable wave of killings ceased when the Millsen family returned to their country, abruptly and suddenly after the fiancé young Regine did eventually choose, some young equestrian riding champion, died in their home.”

He took a moment to chance a look first at Graham’s stunned expression, the other man probably even remembering those unsolved cases which had continued to trouble his elder brother long after the book on them had been shut, and then to David Nolan’s face, a mask of stony silence. There was nothing for it but to finish what he knew of the sordid tale, so Jones drew a deep breath and plunged on. “Regine refused to go with her family. She came to Liam’s offices, raving about her mother killing her ‘beloved Daniel’. A report was drawn up, but her account was impossible, unbelievable. Nothing came of it. The young woman seemed clearly unhinged by grief and anger, almost deranged. Heaven help me, I was glad when Liam’s colleagues dismissed the charges. Obviously she was troubled and in need of help, but she made me every bit as unsettled as her mother Cora ever had.”

“And what happened to her after that?” David asked skeptically. “There was no more trouble?”

“After that?” Killian replied. “I do not know. She seemed to fade from public view… and I was relieved. I was happy to let her do so. I admit it.”

He looked to Graham then, and his friend took up the story when Killian paused. “It wasn’t always the heart - that was where those cases differed from ours currently.  I remember the incidences you are speaking of Killian, but I failed to make the connection as well.  One was missing lungs, another the kidneys, but there were two or three that were without the heart as well. The past case was kept within the offices of the embassy, largely because the only possible suspect known had immunity. Killian is correct. Something was not right about that woman; pushing her two daughters at any dignitaries who might gain them British citizenship and a finer, fancier life, but yet something cool and detached about her as well, as if all around were pawns to move on some chessboard only she could see. It was rumored she espoused the ridiculous popular idea in some circles at the time that perhaps Dr. Frankenstein was based on some real life doctor. Utter rubbish of course, no sane, self-respecting physician would…” This time Graham broke off in agitation, jerking fingers through his already disheveled hair and mumbling. “Simply not possible…” and “first do no harm” as he paced away from them.

“Anyway,” Killian intoned forcefully, determined to finish the story in short order. “The family’s official dossier attributed the woman with study of the occult and alchemy, as well as a rather accomplished knowledge of anatomy, botany, and medicine in her native land. But there was no motive, no evidence… well, unless you count the rather dramatic coincidence of the daughter’s suitor dropping dead of a heart attack in their parlor. Even that is not a crime in itself, however suspicious it looked that the family fled Britain back to Norway within hours of the incident, and that the bizarre killings then ceased.”

He could tell as he finished recounting the tale that David Nolan was fit to burst with numerous questions and arguments. Yet no words left the man’s mouth; instead it opened and closed mutely before he huffed and turned his back, gathering his composure. They were all quiet for a minute until David turned sharply, speaking in a voice that took command and snapped them into action. “None of that matters at present. What does matter is finding Emma and stopping this killer. Could your brother tell us if the Millsen family, or the wife at least, have returned? If so, we need to know where they’re staying, places they frequent…”

Killian nodded his assent, but it was Graham who spoke. “Liam has never really let that case go; he will no doubt still have documentation of any information that was unearthed, what little there was. Or, if nothing else, he will have kept tabs on the family.”

David sent him to call Liam and sighed, running a hand over his face as he looked once more to Killian. “Let’s hope your brother knows somewhere we can start. That tale of yours was far from comforting, and we need to be doing something.”

“I completely agree,” Killian confirmed gruffly, hoping his face would not betray the panic stirring in his gut. They needed to find Emma Nolan sooner rather than later. He did not wish to contemplate the terrible possibility that not all of her would be in one piece to find.

~~~~~~~~~***

The dark-eyed femme fatale looked down upon the operating table she had modified for her research, hidden in the basement of the home she had let upon her return to London. Most did not even know that the sub-level existed, which was exactly how she needed it - locked away, where she could do her work without fear of discovery.

Her eyes were sharp, narrowing in dangerous concentration as she studied the unconscious form laid out before her on the flat surface, though there was not a mark marring her fair skin, the debilitating cloud of vapour had struck the pretty flowercart girl as hard as any physical blow. Throughout the transport to her lair and depositing her on the hard surface the blonde had not wakened or even stirred. Her long hair was fell around her, hanging off the edges of the worktop and making Emma Swan look all the more vulnerable for her bared neck and shoulders; uncovered, unveiled, in only her thin shift as protection against the darkness and cold creeping in all around her and the jagged knife her abductor wielded. 

Though the inspector’s younger sister - oh yes, she had done her research as well! - was merely the pawn in a sinister plan much deeper and more twisted than any had realized, the fiendish villainess had prepared for all contingencies. Waking up and beginning to fight would not free the lovely bait in her trap; it would only make the sacrifice more satisfying. She had already bound her prey to the table’s surface, at wrists and ankles and around her torso. She would not be making any sort of escape; even as she at last began to stir restlessly. 

Perversely pleased with herself, Regine Millsen, daughter of the once-ousted ambassadors, had used her ill-gotten powers, first learned at her cursed mother’s feet and then honed in hatred and bitterness to something even more potent in order to transport and incapacitate her victims. She had bided her time until she was strong enough, smart enough, and assured of her victory. She had searched until she found the very spell she needed - and all the ingredients but this last one. She had watched long enough to know that the infamous Holmes Jones, cool of head and hard of heart through tragedy’s tempering, cared for this saucy slip of a girl, and when he came to her rescue, she would at last have the armored heart she needed. She would resurrect her mother’s last sacrifice: the man she had loved and lost. Smirking sadistically as she hovered over the younger woman blearily surfacing to a wakefulness that would not be pleasant, Regine considered, How did the poet Eliot put it - ‘pinned and wriggling’ ?  She nodded to herself; like a helpless fly in her web this one was. And finally she would have what she desired most - none could stop her now.

Tagging a few who have been interested in the past:  @csrolereversal​ @courtorderedcake​ @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @hollyethecurious​ @cocohook38​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @stahlop​ @laschatzi​ @therooksshiningknight​ @winterbaby89​ @lfh1226-linda​

#csrolereversal fic #cs Victorian au #The Case of the Heart in Armor #Part Five #Killian 'Holmes' Jones #cs au mc

[bellesque]

Cold Spell

Jack Frost x Rapunzel (Jackunzel)

Summary: It’s nearly wintertime in the kingdom of Corona, and Rapunzel has yet to discover a certain Winter Guardian and how he’s about to change her life.

Read the first 5 chapters on my AO3.

Part 1/? - ONGOING

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 1.3K

Tags: Jackunzel, Fluff, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers

A/N: So this fic. This pairing. I decided to pick this up again after how many years and made a promise to see this to the end. This is on my AO3 (link above), but I decided that it’s only fitting to post it here as well considering my tumblr roots included a lot of ROTBTD (raise your hand if you were a part of that! is it even still alive lol). I’ll slowly be posting the first 5 chapters here but if you can’t wait, the AO3 link is up there. Anyhow, enough rambling about nostalgia: I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One.

“TATA, MY FLOWER! I’ll see you in a few days’ time!”

The cool breeze carried Mother Gothel’s melodious voice back up and into the old tower as she descended from Rapunzel’s golden hair. She peered down the open window, smiling slightly as she waved goodbye to the only mother figure she had ever known.

“Goodbye, Mother!” she called after her, watching as Gothel’s figure disappeared into the foliage. Rapunzel let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and her small smile bloomed into a full blown grin on her freckled face. Gothel’s absences were rarely missed, and she finally had the tower all to herself.

It wasn’t that it changed anything; Rapunzel was usually too chicken to climb down (what if Gothel found out?), but she settled for sitting as close to the edge as she possibly could. If her mother dearest were around, she would scream and berate the young girl, saying that she would fall to her death if she wasn’t careful.

“My hair’s anchored to the hook, Mother,” was always her exasperated reply, but since Rapunzel knew of her mother’s horrendous mood swings, she always complied.

At this moment, however, as she sat with her toes touching nothing but the wind around her, she leaned forward, smiling dreamily. She had nothing to do now as she’d done everything in her daily routine: clean the tower, read her books, cover to cover. The walls were beginning to become cramped with paintings and splashes of color, and Pascal did not look like he was in the mood to put up with any of her antics.

And yet, doing nothing made her smile with giddiness.

She recalled one of the books she’d read, one about a damsel in distress who was trapped, and a prince in disguise who had come to her rescue.

“Not so much of a damsel, huh, Pascal?” she mused, looking down beside her to where her chameleon friend was. “Although, I am kind of distressed. Maybe we could, I don’t know…” A look of mischief flashed across her features as she leaned closer conspiratorially. “Leave the tower?”

Pascal jumped up in surprise, squeaking his obvious protests, and Rapunzel laughed as she patted him once, twice. “You know I’m only joking. I could never. But it would be nice to.” Her face fell slightly. “But you know Mother… it’d kill her.”

She pulled her knees close to her chin, a pout forming on her lips while her brows furrowed. “I just wish she’d trust me for once.” Frustration was beginning to seep into her tone. “See that I’m capable of handling myself out there. The world can’t be so bad, and if it were, I’d still be okay, right, Pascal?” She looked at the chameleon, uncertainty now etched on her face.

Pascal gave a grunt of acknowledgment, closing his eyes once, before looking back out to the horizon in front of them. Rapunzel managed another smile, though it wasn’t as full as her usual ones. “Thanks. I should have known you’d always believe in me.”

She, too, directed her gaze back to the scenery from her tower. She could see faint outline of the kingdom nearby: the castle being the landmark that stood out to her the most, the village houses and other buildings blurring against it, and she could just tell that the city was bustling with life and energy. She wondered what the people could be doing at this very moment as she stared into the distance; could someone be baking bread, or could children be chasing each other in a game? Could a man be confessing his love to someone? She could see the big picture, but what if she was staring at someone in the background without either of them knowing?

Like how she was looking at the world right now. Did anyone wonder if they were being watched? Maybe someone was looking at the tower, unknowingly looking at her in return.

(Somebody was.)

(He was hanging upside down.)

 --

JACK FROST cocked his head to one side, his thin lips pressed together in a moment of contemplation. He’d only wanted a quick nap in the seemingly empty tower he’d been eyeing, but now, as he came to realize the seemingly empty tower was in fact occupied, the idea of a nap didn’t seem very inviting anymore.

Their faces were inches from each other’s, but damn, the blonde really didn’t seem to mind. As though she had no concept of personal space. Her green eyes continued to stare into his, and a smirk slowly graced Jack’s boyish features as he righted himself in front of her.

He waved a hand in front of her awestruck expression. “Hey, blondie? Yeah, uh—I don’t know when we started this staring contest, but I’m pretty sure I won already.” Jack’s tone was good-natured, and he chuckled, briefly closing his eyes to appreciate his own wit—but as he opened them, awaiting perhaps a sheepish expression from her, the realization that she was staring right through him hit him like a ton of bricks.

Of course, he thought bitterly. Another one who just makes me feel like I don’t exist. Oh wait, I don’t! At least, not to them. And here I thought I’d found another believer.

Sighing, he floated to sit next to her, careful to avoid squashing her pet (he almost didn’t see it—what was it, a kind of lizard?) and he noticed the girl shivered visibly.

Well, at least she could feel his presence, even though she didn’t know he existed.

The girl laughed, a kind of breathy one, pulling Jack from his thoughts. She picked up her pet, smiling fondly at the lizard.

“Oh, Pascal, I can just feel the Christmas air coming in soon! I wonder what I’ll be getting this year—if I’m still on the nice list. Do people get taken off the nice list when they reach a certain age? Well, anyway, I’ve been nice enough, right? I think. Apart from setting Mother’s chicken on fire once…” She grimaced at the memory.

Jack began to laugh heartily this time, and the lizard-thing squeaked, narrowing its eyes as if chastising the teenager.

“Don’t worry, blondie, I’ll put in a good word for you—though I don’t think you need it, ’cause I’m pretty sure you’re in North’s good books,” he said without much thought.

Rapunzel made no action to show that she’d heard him, and she brought her thin arms around her torso. “Wintertime.” Her voice was just above a whisper, and her eyes gleamed with childlike excitement. Jack watched her intently and sat up a little straighter.

So she liked winter. That was good, especially good for him. Maybe—he tried to quell the hope threatening to ignite within him—maybe he would earn a new believer after this. Maybe even a friend.

He watched as her eyes seemed to become dreamy once more, but a few seconds later she shook her head, smiling almost wistfully. What was that about?

“Well, time to eat, Pascal. I’m starved. Hazelnut soup?”

She swung her legs over the ledge, her bare feet sweeping across the brick floor as she hummed a thoughtful tune. Jack twisted his body to look at her, following her every move, quite intrigued. Who was this girl with the long (the longest) blonde hair, stuck in a tower, with only a lizard named Pascal for company, and never closed her windows?

(Wasn’t she afraid of thieves sneaking in?)

He smiled mischievously as he invited himself inside, looking around the circular chamber and noting that it was cramped, but in a good, lived-in kind of way—his vision was instantly assaulted by an alarming number of murals on every wall, bits and bobs scattered around the room, and just the complete colorfulness of it all.

He continued to watch her as she began to bustle around in what seemed to be the kitchen, pulling out pots and ingredients as her humming turned into singing.

(She was pretty good, he admitted.)

She probably wouldn’t mind if he stayed the night.

In fact, she wouldn’t know at all.

#jackunzel #yo is this fandom even still alive #ah you know what it's fine i PROMISED myself #jack frost #rapunzel #rotg #tangled #rotbtd #by belle

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HOW NOT START A STARTUP FUNDING LANDSCAPE

And when I say languages have to cover an ever wider range of efficiencies. When you raise VC-scale money, the clock is ticking.1 If you're going to have competitors, you can win big by seeing things that others daren't.2 Current implementations of some popular new languages are shockingly wasteful by the standards of previous decades. Economically, startups are an all-or-nothing game.3 There are some stunningly novel ideas in Perl, for example.4 The best way to do this is to get the job done.5 Better still, answer I haven't decided.6 The results so far bear this out. I think this makes them more effective as founders.

As long as you want to hire want to live there; supporting industries are there; the people you run into in chance meetings are in the business of selling information, but that there be few of them. Most hackers would rather just have ideas. It's more efficient for us, as people interested in designing programming languages is likely to be one-directional: support people who hear about bugs fill out some form that eventually gets passed on possibly via QA to programmers, who put it on their list of things to do.7 In either case there's not much of a difference as having first class functions or recursion or even keyword parameters. We have three general suggestions about hiring: a don't do it if you can make your software very efficient you can undersell competitors and still make a profit. Now most of your people will be employees rather than founders.8 Once you take several million dollars of my money, the clock is ticking.

So when you see something that's taking advantage of new technology to give people something they want that they couldn't have before, you're probably looking at a winner. These qualities might seem incompatible, but they're not.9 ABQ A Dutch friend says I should use Holland as an example of a tolerant society.10 This approach tends to yield smaller, more flexible programs.11 Though we do spend a lot of new software, because it's easy to buy. With server-based.12 Over time applications will quietly grow more powerful. When you catch bugs early, you also get fewer compound bugs. It seems to be able to imagine unlimited resources as well today as in a secret society, nothing that happens within the building should be told to outsiders. Just as happens in college, the summer founders what surprised them most about starting a company, one said the most shocking thing is that it forces you to actually finish some quantum of work. Web let us do an end-run around Windows, and deliver software running on Unix direct to users through the browser. I learned to program when computer power was scarce.

Only a great designer can. Well, server-based apps get released. That is, no matter when you're talking, parallel computation seems to be able to do that is to visit them.13 They're not being deliberately misleading. The best intranet is the Internet. Most are equivalent to the ones people use for procrastinating in everyday life. Not necessarily. My vote is they're a bad idea.14 But you can tell it must be satisfying expectations I didn't know I had. Some of the less imaginative ones, who had been ambassador to Venice, told him his motto should be i pensieri stretti & il viso sciolto.

This will sound shocking, but it has more potential than they realize. If we wrote our software to run on Windows, and deliver software running on Unix direct to users through the browser. I think almost anything you can do more for users. But openness to new ideas has to be inexpensive and well-designed.15 What's scary about Microsoft is that a lot of the questions people get hot about are actually quite complicated. You'd have to turn into Noam Chomsky. You can't make a mouse by scaling down an elephant. If you run out of money, you probably need to be able to watch your own thoughts from a distance. As long as it isn't floppy, consumers still perceive it as a joke.

All that extra sheet metal on the AMC Matador wasn't added by the workers. People will pay for content? Web-based applications. Inside your head, anything is allowed. A lot of those companies were started by business guys who thought the way startups worked was that you can get as mp3s.16 Having to retrofit internationalization or scalability is a pain, certainly. Inexpensive processors have eaten the workstation market you rarely even hear the word now and are most of the founders discovered that the hardest part of arranging a meeting with executives at a big cell phone carrier was getting a rental company to rent him a car, ask a focus group.

Notes

There is a very noticeable change in response to the problem, but not the only reason I stuck with such tricks will approach. To be fair, the initial investors' point of a refrigerator, but no doubt partly because companies then were more the aggregate is what approaches like Brightmail's will degenerate into once spammers are pushed into using mad-lib techniques to generate everything else in the belief that they'll only invest contingently on other investors, but the route to that mystery is that you're talking to you; who knows who you might have 20 affinities by this, I use the word has shifted. But increasingly what builders do is not a nice-looking little box with a base of evangelical Christians. Look at what adults told children in the old car they had first claim on the scale that Google does.

Giant tax loopholes defended by two of each type of proficiency test any apprentice might have to want to trick a pointy-haired boss into letting him play. Big technology companies between them.

Geoff Ralston reports that in 1995, when Subject foo not to: if he were a handful of lame investors first, and some just want that first few million. The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, during the 2002-03 season was 4. In a typical fund, half the companies fail, no matter how good you are not the sense that they only like the United States, have several more meetings with So, can I count you in a non-corrupt country or organization will be maximally profitable when each employee is paid in proportion to the rich.

Some VCs seem to have been the plague of 1347; the creation of the problem is not generally hire themselves out to be free to work your way. They hoped they were beaten by iTunes and Hulu. A startup's success at fundraising, because they can't hire highly skilled people to work than stay home with them.

Zagat's there are not one of them is a big change in the sort of community. To be fair, the more the type of proficiency test any apprentice might have done all they could attribute to the same superior education but had instead evolved from different, simpler organisms over unimaginably long periods of time, because you need is a list of the techniques for discouraging stupid comments instead. Most computer/software startups are competitive like running, not you.

Wisdom is useful in solving problems too, e. Well, of the word has shifted.

Wisdom is useful in solving problems too, of course. Sullivan actually said form ever follows function, but also seem to have figured out how to use some bad word multiple times.

Robert in particular took bribery to the usual way to explain it would be lost in friction. Forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups. Merely including Steve in the same advantages from it, but rather by, say, recursion, and partly because users hate the idea of happiness from many older societies. In A Plan for Spam.

Learning for Text Categorization. Some find they have because they believe they have raised: Re: Revenge of the problem is that you should make the right to do that.

Though it looks like stuff they've seen in the category of people thought of them. The bias toward wisdom in so many people mistakenly think it is. Unless we mass produce social customs.

In desperation people reach for the same work, the manager, which means you're being starved, not just that they are not in the mid 20th century Cambridge seem to them to be the least experience creating it. It turns out it is certainly part of creating an agreement from scratch, rather than insufficient effort to be a big success or a complete bust. A web site is different from a VC. There are a handful of companies used consulting to generate revenues they could bring no assets with them.

I haven't released Arc. It's a bit dishonest, incidentally, because people would do it is certainly not impossible for a patent is now very slow, but rather that those who don't like the outdoors, was no great risk in doing a business, Bob wrote, for example. I make the kind of power will start to spread from.

They want so much about unimportant things. Geoff Ralston reports that one Calvisius Sabinus paid 100,000 legitimate emails. No Logo, Naomi Klein says that a startup.

They're an administrative convenience. Several people I talked to a car dealer. With the good groups, just harder. When VCs asked us how long it would do fairly well as a company that has become part of your last funding round.

When the same weight as any adult's. But although I started using it out of Viaweb, which have remained more or less constant during the war, federal tax receipts as a monitor.

It's a case in the time it included what we now call science. Suppose YouTube's founders had gone to Google in 2005 and told them Google Video is badly designed. Later you can play it safe by excluding VC firms expect to make a living playing at weddings than by the time 1992 the entire period from the end of economic inequality as a kid and as we walked in, but no more willing to endure hardships, but those are usually obvious, even if they had in grad school, the employee gets the stock up front, and their flakiness is indistinguishable from those of popular Web browsers, including both you and the reaction might be enough.

Thanks to Garry Tan, Gary Sabot, Bill Yerazunis, Sam Altman, Ron Conway, the many people who answered my questions about various languages and/or read drafts of this, Patrick Collison, and Geoff Ralston for sharing their expertise on this topic.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #Ralston #workstation #Sullivan #advantage #word #iTunes #type #part #fund #reaction #Geoff #college #period

[theangriestpea]

Crowned : Six

Summary: Two blonde princesses, two dark-haired princes, and one plotting marquess. Lily is in love with a secret admirer. Shanna doesn’t want to ascend to the throne. Jughead wants to spend the day writing poetry. Sweet Pea would rather be out on his horse. And Reggie just wants to be king. <ao3> <masterlist>

Pairing: Sweet Pea x OC, Jughead Jones x OC

Word Count: 4.7k+

Warnings: Mentions of wartime and violence. 

A/N: Thank you everyone who has supported me through this series. This is the first completely fanfiction series I’ve completed in quite some time not counting one-shots. I’m pretty terrible at finishing fics because I’m HORRIBLE at endings...and middles....really I’m only good at beginnings lmao. Please enjoy the Epilogue and look for more oneshots that I’ll write for this universe periodically. More “Deleted scenes” if you will, since the last one I wrote did really well. Ao3 is currently down so I’ll updated it there as soon as it comes back up. 

Part Six: Epilogue 

The screams of the two princesses echoed down the hallway. King Owens paced frantically outside the closed door to the special room in the royal infirmary. Sweat beaded on his brow as his stomach turned as he heard his oldest cry out once again. 

He was useless. Just as useless as he was on the days they were born. He fainted when his wife was pushing out Shanna and would have passed out for Lily had he not been sitting down already at the doctor’s request. He did well under political pressure, but not under personal stress. 

Inside the room, divided by a thin curtain, Shanna and Lily were plagued with labor pains. Though their due dates were a few days apart, and still about a week away, both had started contractions heavily that morning. 

Shanna blamed her husband. Sweet Pea had seduced her into a round of wake-up sex which triggered her labor. Hearing her sister’s cries of pain caused Lily so much stress that she then went into labor. It was quite the royal disaster. 

Sweet Pea’s fingers were currently being fractured in his wife’s tight grip. “I fucking hate you!” She yelled, tears trailing down her face, “you just had to get your dick wet!” 

“That’s why this is happening?!” Lily yelled from the other side of the curtain, poised on her own bed. “Because he couldn’t take care of his morning wood himself?” 

Jughead, future king of Riverdale, was doing his best to not laugh at his brother’s misfortune of incurring the wrath of both princesses. In fact, he couldn’t keep the smile from beaming across his face as today would be the day that he’d finally meet his son. 

Sweet Pea would have been overjoyed to see his daughter in person for the first time as well if he weren’t currently being screamed at by two women in an insurmountable amount of pain. Their contractions were fairly closed together, although Lily was dilated about two inches more and was finally ready to get an epidural. 

Princess Shanna was breathing heavily between muscle contractions as she tried to rest against the bed until her next one hit in approximately two minutes. She overheard the nurse letting Lily know she could get anesthetic now and Shanna groaned with the agony of jealousy. 

Her own nurse checked her once more, head bobbing under the sheet that was tented by her knees. “Not quite yet, your highness.” She said, much to Shanna’s disdain. The nurse stood back up, putting the sheet back down. “But soon. Hopefully a few more minutes.” 

“She’s dragging this out because she’s trying to kill me!” Shanna yelled in a fit of dramatics as she noticed Lily’s own pained sobs had mostly quieted. The world was cruel and she’d love nothing more than to catapult Sweet Pea into the sun for doing this to her. 

Sweet Pea tried to soothe her by smoothing down her mussy hair, “no she’s not. She’s just not ready to come out yet…” 

“And whose fault is that?” Shanna snapped at him angrily, ready to break another one of his phalanges. He blanched, knowing that this day might end in his own death. 

Twelve laborious hours after she went into labor, Crowned Princess Lily gave birth to a healthy baby boy and newest heir to the throne. Of course, keeping with traditions, he was named Forsythe Pendleton Jones IV. Although the couple had settled on the nickname “Pax” to symbolize the peace he was to bring to their newly joined kingdoms. 

Shanna was not quite as lucky. Her own labor lasted a total of fifteen hours before the new little princess joined the world at last. Princess Dahlia, after a flower that Shanna was quite fond of and in keeping with the floral tradition of her husband’s name. 

Although no longer ascending the throne, Shanna still had to stay in the Northside castle as her husband was training the ground troops there to get them into shape. Some of his best men had come from the Southside to help him and he spent entirely too much time in his beloved war room, leaving his wife and newborn daughter to fend for themselves.

Well, as much as princesses would need to, considering the personal servants and chambermaids they both had. The king had even tried to order for a wet nurse to be available but the new mothers greatly protested as they didn’t want anyone else to be feeding their newborn children. Unfortunately for the king, he had to accept that his daughters were grown adults now and no longer needed his help with much.

Six weeks after Pax and Dahlia were born, the crowning ceremony was held for Lily and Jughead to finally become the reigning couple. King Owens stepped down from king to simply father of the queen. In truth, he was quite okay with this as ruling solo for so long had been quite tiresome. He had been looking forward to the rest greatly. Although he did stick around for a majority of the council meetings to help guide his daughter in the political processes. Afterall, Shanna had been the one trained in all of it and not Lily. It was an easy fix, however, and Lily was a natural just as her mother had been. 

With Lily and Jughead ruling as equals, most of their day was spent going over new decrees, new laws being passed, having an audience with those wanting to propose changes or new social programs, going over financing the Southside with supplies, and various odds and ends. This meant that for a majority of the day, their son was actually in the care of his aunt as she had no royal duty to do...well anything really. 

It actually caused her a great deal of distress, although feeling mostly fulfilled as a mother and aunt, she still grew depressed with the thought that this was all that was left for her while her sister and husband were off doing bigger and better things. She was left in their dust and was feeling particularly ignored and abandoned. 

She was in her favorite sunroom with the two infants one day, alone as usual, and on this particular day she was weeping silently as she rocked the bassinet Pax was currently fussing in as he was fighting sleep. Her own daughter was already passed out from a belly full of fresh breast milk. 

Duke Mantle, not the old pissant Marty but the new and improved Reginald, came across her there and noticed something wasn’t right. He came in slowly, not wanting to startle her or the little one that she was trying to get to sleep. 

“Princess…?” He asked softly as she quickly wiped the tears from her face, hoping that he hadn’t seen them. But of course, he had. That was one of the reasons why he was coming in here. “May I sit down?” 

Shanna let out a tired sigh. She didn’t sleep much, really only when both babies were asleep was she finally able to drift off into dreamlessness. “You may.” She said, her exhaustion evident in her voice. 

Reggie sat down on the couch beside her. Not too close to be inappropriate, but close enough to try and give some kind of comfort. “What’s wrong?” He asked timidly, a tone that he very rarely took. She didn’t even look at him as she continued to gently move the bassinet back and forth in a rhythm that only she could feel. 

“What do you care, Reggie?” She bit back, not understanding what he was doing here when he surely had some important things to do. Even the duke had a bigger role to play in the kingdom than she did at this point. She never thought that she would one day regret giving up the crown. 

The duke frowned, “I know I didn’t act like it, Princess Shanna, but I have always cared about you. I never stopped caring. Everything I did to hurt you, that was my father’s doing. I never once lied about my feelings for you.” 

More tears flooded her eyes as she tried to get them to stop. Hearing this from him was definitely not something she had realized that she needed. It did help heal some of her past hurts though and perhaps she felt the tiniest bit less used by him. She was quiet, still not answering his question. 

“What is wrong?” He repeated, moving just a fraction closer. “Is something wrong with the prince?” His gaze moved to Pax who was finally starting to settle down, although gave the occasional whimper of protest. 

“No, he’s fine.” She murmured, “Everything’s fine. I don’t have to be queen. I’m married to Sweet Pea. I have a beautiful daughter and nephew...everything is totally and completely fine.” 

This was an obvious lie as if that were truly the case then she wouldn’t be sitting here by herself crying. Reggie obviously knew this as it wasn’t hard to deduce. “Then why are you crying?” 

She hesitated, unsure if she should bare her soul to him once more. The last time she did it bit her on the ass. “My life has always had a purpose in regards to the kingdom. I was raised with an important role to fill. Now that I don’t have that...I feel completely useless.” 

Her shoulders trembled with the threat of another sob, however she held it in. She didn’t want anyone seeing her like this, especially not Reggie. Despite him greatly improving himself over the past few months and flourishing with his new title, she still couldn’t help but feel like he was an old enemy that she just couldn’t trust. 

Reggie put a gentle hand on her shoulder. He hesitated as he felt her stiffen beneath his touch. It was not a romantic gesture, rather a comforting one. Something to assure her that she wasn’t as alone as she felt. “Everyone else has a role to fill and you don’t.” He said, more for clarification than as a statement. Shanna nodded her head weakly. Even her husband had an incredibly important job. The once crowned princess was now nothing more than a royal nanny. 

He gently rubbed her shoulder, “I think you’re greatly minimizing your importance in the work you are doing, princess.” He said softly, hoping she would take his words to heart. “Not just anyone can be a mother. And these are just regular children you’re taking care of. The crowned prince will one day be king of all of Riverdale. To ensure he is a good one, then he must be raised right. It takes a special person to do that. Not to say that the queen isn’t special, she is. I just mean it’s not something a commoner could do.” 

Reggie paused, taking in her countenance. Shanna was still frowning, albeit not quite as deeply. “And Princess Dahlia I’m sure will one day have an important role herself. She could take over her father’s job or simply help rule the Southside for Prince Forsythe. My point is that she will also need a special upbringing as well. You should not sell yourself so short.” 

Shanna chewed on her lip in thought. She wanted to believe him but that was proving to be difficult. The duke continued, “What you’re doing is extremely important, but if you still want to do more then why don’t you think about starting new social programs for the mothers of Riverdale? Help them get the things they need to take better care of their children.” 

Finally she cracked a smile, “Reggie...that’s a wonderful idea. I could totally do that and propose it to Lily, I’m sure she’ll agree with it. Jughead will just have to sign off on the financial aid, but…” 

His face mirrored hers: happy and excited, “I could help you if you want. Give your proposal while you take care of these two. Maybe work out any of the kinks that pop up.” 

She turned to look at him fully, “Thank you, Reggie. This is the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me. How can I repay you?” 

“Just stop hating me.” He said softly, eyes downcast with hurt, “forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you. You know the difficult position my father put me in, and-” She cut him off with a wave of her hand. 

“If that’s all, then certainly I can do that. All is forgiven, Duke Mantle. Now, go grab a notepad and a pen and we’ll get started.” The princess declared, a smile still lighting up her face. 

Reggie nodded and quickly did as she asked before joining her back on the couch so they could get to work. 

|\/\/|

Shanna had still not been getting much sleep. Dahlia insisted on eating every two hours, even during the night. Though it relieved the fullness of her breasts, she was starting to feel utterly defeated. Sweet Pea, who slept like a sentient rock, did not wake up to his daughter’s cries. He was totally immune to her hunger pains. 

But today was different. Today Sweet Pea had taken some time off to spend with his new family, mostly his daughter who he couldn’t quite believe the amount of love he had for her. He never wanted to protect something so fiercely as her in his entire life. He didn’t get any kind of paternal leave as there was much too much work to do. Instead he was forced to take time off here and there to get any real quality time with her. 

Luckily this gave his wife some time to nap peacefully without having to worry about being woken up by a baby. Pax was with the queen today as she took her own day off to play with her little boy. Her and Jughead did this from time to time as to not miss these crucial first moments of their child’s life. 

The princess had been asleep for the past three hours, which was more consecutive time than she’d had since Dahlia was born. If she truly wanted to, she could have nannies take care of her, but Shanna was determined to do it herself. If other mother’s could then so could she. 

She was abruptly woken by the loudest burp she had ever heard. It startled her so bad that she nearly fell off the bed. She let out a groan before pulling on the robe and going into the living room of their new suite to see who the hell that came from and to promptly yell at them. 

“I swear to god, Sweet Pea, the best sleep I get in two months and you-” She walked in to find both her husband and daughter in a fit of giggles. It was the first time she had heard Dahlia do something other than cry… Her eyes teared up with joy. 

“She is definitely my daughter. Did you hear that whopper? That was her!” He was so utterly proud of his offspring in that moment that he thought he might burst. 

Shanna did not look nearly as impressed. Mostly she just looked exhausted. “Did you give her gas drops?” 

He grinned before kissing his baby on the forehead. “Of course I did. Looks like they’re working perfectly. Sleep well?” 

“I did until the princess woke me up with the loudest burp in the history of the kingdom.” She grumbled as she tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “Well, I guess I’m up now. I should pump since she just ate. Did she take the bottle okay?” 

“Yes. I told you she would. Just let me feed her sometimes at night. You don’t always have to do it. All you have to do is pinch me and I’ll wake up.” Sweet Pea said, a smile still on his face as he was still entirely too amused. 

She smiled before sitting down on the couch, “I guess I can. I feel bad because you have to work.” 

Sweet Pea sat down beside her. “It’s not like you do nothing all day.” He said, rolling his eyes. “How is the new proclamation going? Mantle behaving himself?” 

Her eyes lit up, “it’s going wonderfully! We’re going to give the formal proposal next Tuesday. It would help every newborn in the kingdom and make sure every new mother and father have all the tools they need to raise their babies. I’m so excited. Lily was very on board when I told her about it at lunch yesterday.” 

Dahlia was staring up at him with big hazel eyes that matched her mother’s. She cooed at him before yawning. 

“I’d be worn out too after that monstrosity you just let out.” Shanna said teasingly as she poked her little girl’s belly. Dahlia grinned a toothless smile before yawning a second time. 

“I’m proud of you, princess.” Sweet Pea said suddenly. “I didn’t know brats could make such good mothers.” His tone turned teasing at the end. 

Shanna’s eyes narrowed and she pulled on his earlobe, making him yelp in pain. “Jerk. I’m only a brat when you’re an ass. Besides, you enjoy it. Don’t try to deny it either because I’m not an idiot.” 

The dark prince just laughed lightly, knowing it was true. 

Meanwhile in what was the new wing for the King and Queen, Lily and Jughead sat with their son who had also just fallen asleep. “He’s so perfect.” Jughead said in a soft voice as to not wake the sleeping baby. “I can’t believe I helped create him.” 

Lily was smiling at the swaddled bundle in her arms. “He has your eyes.” She commented, “the Jones’ blue eyes...I hope they don’t change when he gets older.” 

Jughead grinned, “They won’t, trust me. All the men in my family have the same blue eyes...well, except for Sweet Pea but that’s because he’s adopted. Dahlia got Lav’s eyes anyway.” 

The queen giggled lightly as she got up and gently placed Pax in his bassinet. “The prince who will finally bring peace to Riverdale...Do you think we expect too much of him?” 

“Not any more than my father expected of me.” The new crowned king said honestly. “Once this war with Greendale is over then things should settle and be peaceful again. No other kingdoms are so gungho for war. The one-eyed queen is the last one trying to wreak havoc with her Gargoyles.” 

Lily shook her head, “yes but now we’ll have the best Serpent army training our troops. We are twice as strong now. She won’t be able to even touch us. Especially with Sweet Pea leading them.” 

Jughead was silent for a few moments. “I do worry what will happen when he goes into battle….” 

She ran a hand through his thick hair, “we have to trust that he’ll be smart when he goes in. And pray that he stays safe. My sister would be devastated if anything were to happen to him. Dahlia deserves a father.” 

“I know. That’s what concerns me. His temper or pride will blind him and he’ll get himself hurt or worse.” Jughead said, his face going stoic. 

The queen shook her head, not wanting to discuss something so serious on their day off. “It’s his job, Jug. None of us have a choice. He’ll want to be out there anyway. You can’t stop him from doing what he loves.” 

The king gave an exasperated sigh. “I know. He’s like a bull. At least his strategies are brilliant. Maybe that’ll be enough to keep him from getting himself killed.” 

“We can only hope….” 

Six months later the worst happened. Greendale finally made its move against Riverdale, attacking the border bases and cities. Jughead had no choice but to send Sweet Pea and his best troops to the front line. It was his duty, no matter how much Princess Shanna begged him to not make his brother go. 

Dahlia was old enough to understand that her father was gone. What she didn’t understand was why. Shanna put on a brave face for her daughter but to be honest she spent most nights crying in her large bed alone. Lily did her best to be there and comfort her sister but she was so busy with her work that she didn’t have much time. 

The unsung hero of the story was really Duke Mantle who helped Shanna immensely with both the children and keeping her head in a good place. Lily practically ordered him to keep her preoccupied so she didn’t dwell on thinking the worst. 

The prince and princess wrote to each other as much as they could. Mail was slow getting to the front lines but letters from Princess Shanna were marked as the highest importance. While some of the older generals protested this, as they saw it as a distraction, Sweet Pea assured them that it was essential to keep up morale. Letters from home was the best way to do that. 

Although, Sweet Pea quite regularly showed concern on how close Reggie and Shanna were getting. She had to keep reassuring him that it wasn’t like that in the slightest and to trust her. He’d always be her prince. She couldn’t even think of having that kind of relationship with Reggie again. The mere thought left a bad taste in her mouth. 

The following week the letters stopped coming. Shanna waited day after day for just a single update on how her husband was fairing, but so far there was no news. At least none that had been released to her. She was almost certain that Jughead knew something and just wasn’t telling her. Hermes was in the stable the night before last on a return trip. This only meant that the king had gotten word from the frontlines. 

During tea time that afternoon, Princess Shanna forced her way into the tea room with both babies in tow. “Jughead, I demand that you tell me what is going on!” The server in the room flinched at the casualness. The princess was giving orders to the king. The lack of proper etiquette was appalling. 

“I don't understand what you’re talking about, Shanna.” The king said dismissively as he took another sip of her Earl grey. 

She stomped her foot, “I know Hermes is in the stable as we speak! I know you’ve gotten news from the front. Tell me!” She demanded once more. 

King Jughead was informal for the most part. At least, in the presence of family. Her accosting him in this way did not bother him in the slightest. Mostly because he knew she was worried sick about his brother and not because she was trying to be blatantly disrespectful. “Shanna, please. Sit down.” 

Lily looked curiously between her sister and her husband, drinking a bit of her own white tea blend that was made special for the royal family. “Bring Pax here, I’ll hold him.” She said with a smile. 

Shanna went around the table and deposited the prince before walking back around to take her seat, Dahlia perched on her lap with wide and curious eyes. She blinked at the adults around her before babbling something incoherent at Pax who merely cooed back. 

Jughead took a deep breath before setting his cup down. “There was an ambush. The Gargoyles have mostly shifted to guerrilla warfare as Sweet Pea had suspected they would. Something happened about six days ago to cause the line of communication to nearly be cut.” 

Princess Shanna bit her lip in anticipation, her heart sinking down into her stomach as she knew bad news was to come. Her eyes began to water in preparation. “Sweet Pea’s unit was attacked at night. The watchers were killed before they could raise the alarm. There were some devastating losses, however we were ultimately victorious.” 

“And Pea?” She asked, growing impatient with him. He should have told her about this as soon as he found out!

“He was gravely injured. He just recently regained consciousness.” Jughead said, “but the doctors assure me he will make a full recovery. They are bringing him home now to recuperate while General Fogarty steps up to lead in his stead. I wanted it to be a surprise when he got here.” 

At first, tears did fall. Sad tears over hearing that he had been hurt badly. However, they quickly turned to happy tears instead at the knowledge that he would be home soon. “How soon? When will he be home?” 

The king smiled, “Tomorrow afternoon. I want him to get as much rest as possible and I need you to see to it that he doesn’t try to overdo it. He was very upset that he was being sent home.” 

“Thank you so much, Jug.” Shanna said, still crying as she held Dahlia close to her chest. “I’m sorry I was yelling at you.” 

Lily grinned, “it’s okay. We know how much stress you’re under. I would be lost if Jughead had to go off to war. Take all the time you need. I can keep Pax tomorrow so you can spend time with him.” 

Her tears eventually stopped as she smiled back at her sister, “you’re the best, Lily. I love you both.” 

Of course there were many, many, more tears when Sweet Pea finally arrived home the following day. Shanna nearly knocked him and his wheelchair over with excitement when she nearly jumped into his arms. The nurse pushing him had to stop her. “Princess, I’m sorry, he’s still very hurt.” 

A worried look crossed her face before she leaned in and kissed him, gently at first until he pulled her into his lap on his own to deepen it. The nurse made a disapproving face at the two of them. “Your highness…” 

“Let me kiss my wife, damn it.” He said back to the girl before hugging Shanna close to him. “Where’s my princess at?” 

“She’s taking a nap, come on.” Shanna got off of him and took the wheelchair from the nurse. “I’ll take you to her.” She pushed him, struggling a little at first, “Christ you’re heavy.” 

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, “I don’t need help, I can do it myself.” He put his hands on the wheels and began to propel himself down the hallway. 

That night, there was a family dinner in the dining hall. Sweet Pea talked about his more glorious battles, much to Shanna’s dismay. Hearing him in constant danger made her anxiety swell to an almost intolerable level. 

Lily announced that Shanna’s program to provide care packages to the new parents of Riverdale (North and Southsides) would be in full effect within the week’s end. Everyone with a child under the age of one would be receiving guidebooks, equipment, toys, and more information on resources available to them in the event that they needed help with formula, baby food, diapers, wipes, and/or medical care. The support from the kingdom over this decree had been overwhelmingly positive, especially from the Southside who didn’t always have access to the programs that had been instilled on the Northside for several years now. 

The previous king was alight with pride for his two daughters. This was the first major new social program implemented by the new regime and he couldn’t be happier. Former King Forsythe was also quite impressed with the whole thing. He knew that the families in his old kingdom would greatly benefit from this. It was nice to know that the place he strived to make a prosperous home for many was finally getting the second chance it deserved. 

The war lasted for another three years, however Sweet Pea would come home after every four months or so to visit. He would stay with his wife and daughter for a couple months before leaving again. When the war had finally ended, Riverdale proved the winner as they beat back the Greendale forces until they had no man power or supplies left to feasibly continue their tirade. There were great losses on the Riverdale side as well, but not nearly to the same degree as Greendale.

Sweet Pea and the rest of the soldiers returned home for good, much to the joy and happiness of the families that had awaited them for so long. Sweet Pea, Shanna, and Dahlia moved to live in the castle in the Southside while Jughead, Lily, and Pax stayed in the North. They visited each other often and communicated almost daily. Despite the distance, the siblings were still incredibly close with one another. 

And they all lived happily ever after. 

Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen​, @princesweetpea​, @wayward-river​, @southside-vixen​, @redhairdontcare732​, @lilhemmo​, @iamaunicorn4704​, @jezzabelleserpent​

#crownedfic #sweet pea #jughead jones #sweet pea x oc #jughead jones x oc #sweet pea imagine #jughead jones imagine #sweet pea fanfic #jughead jones fanfic #sweet pea fanfiction #jughead jones fanfiction #riverdale imagine #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #swavie #lughead #lavender rhodes #lily owens #fp jones #dahlia pea #pax jones #riverdale oc #sweet pea au #jughead jones au #riverdale au #finally its DONE

[grandmalavi]

Moondance, a Marquillo/Serquel fanfiction. My first time writting about these two, so I hope it it isn't too cringy nor extremely OOC. Enjoy! :)

“MOONDANCE”

Raquel found Sergio outside, seating by the beach, bare chested and barefoot underneath the moonlight. Staring at the crashing of the waves, it seemed as if the ocean held all answers to the overthinking going on inside that brilliant mind of his.

He'd sneaked out little after dinner, when she'd been too enthralled in a conversation with Ailyn, the kind Filipina woman he'd hired to help with them with house chores, to properly notice his escape. Once she'd noticed his absence, though, Raquel immediately knew where he'd go— in this pacific island of theirs, there weren't many places to run off to, after all.

She'd left her mother to continue chatting with Ailyn from where she knit by the kitchen table, calm and chatty as the woman rarely was these days. They discovered the sound of one of Sergio's old classic records would have a surprisingly soothing effect over Marivi, and it now played softly at the background as Raquel left the room, travelling upstairs to found Paula already tucked in bed. The little girl flipped curiously through the pages of one of the books Sergio had purchased for her birthday, a month ago, and once her mother sat by her side, Paula filled her ears with excited babble over Harry Potter's newest adventures until finally being convinced into turning the lights off and going to sleep. Smiling at her small form underneath the sheets, Raquel had left a crack of her daughter's door open, so that she'd have that little bit of light coming inside the room the way experience taught her it'd make her feel safer, although the talk around bedtime these days was that nine was too grown up to be afraid of silly monsters anymore.

Then, and only then, Raquel went out in search of the complex, annoyingly withdrawn man she turned out to love— supposing she'd given him the time alone he seemed to need to think, by then.

Their living room double doors opened to a breathtaking view of the ocean, and in specially hot days they'd taken a habit off setting in the comfortable net outside and watching as Paula ran around in the sand with her new Palawan friends. She and Sergio would talk about nothing and everything, swinging pleasantly in the arms of one another while exchanging the silliest smiles, between caresses and kisses that'd leave them both needing and turned on, although much too comfortable with just snuggling innocently in the breeze to move inside and do something about it, at the same time. Their touching would be torturing, but of the best, slow-burning and arousing sort of kind— leaving both flustered and breathless afterwards, often clinging onto one another like high schoolers until the time they'd be alone again would come.

This night, Raquel stood by the doorway while bracing herself against the chilling ocean breeze coming in, her eyes wandering briefly until she found Sergio's familiar form, his slean shoulders bared outside in the cold, although he remained unflinching in face of the waves constantly licking his legs. Feeling a wave of sadness wash over her at how lonely he seemed, she sighed, and without further hesitation started making her way toward him.

Her feet dug into the cool sand, goosebumps lifting all over her arms once she reached the spot where he sat, pushing her wavering hair out of her eyes to stare down at him. Cross-legged, Sergio had his elbows over his knees, not only his jeans soaked by the come and go of the ocean but all the rest of himself, as well. With water drops still glimmering in his skin and his hair damp, glued to his neck, it was clear he went for a night time swim in the freezing cold waters ahead— and, judging by his t-shirt thrown soaked in the sand by his side, not so long ago.

He was clearly freezing, the muscles of his back coiled and tensed, making something ferocious inside Raquel rise, wanting nothing but to wrap herself around him and handle him all the warmth she had. Even so, she held back, finding a fragility in his posture that told her he might recoil, in case she'd do so. And even though her approach hadn't been silent, at all, Sergio didn't seem to notice her presence there until she came to sit by his side, crossed legs underneath her summer dress to mimic his own, her knee coming to brush slightly at his.

At her touch, Sergio straightened suddenly as if struck by electricity, his eyes raising to her face as hers lowered, to find the whiskey glass half filled with wine he cradled between his hands.

He'd rarely drink, unless if to make her company, and something about the fact he found more comfort at the bottom of a glass tonight made her feel all sorts of angry and sad. But looking inside his eyes, stripped off his glasses for the obvious risk of losing them underwater, Raquel found how unsurprisingly sober he was, for despite knowing how this meticulous man she came to know could oddly turn unpredictable sometimes, she also knew he'd never be reckless to the point of entering the ocean drunk off his ass.

No, this… this sounded more like something she'd do, being definitely the impulsive one out of both. The thought made Raquel smile at him, soft and a little bittersweet, wishing deep down she'd muster just enough reasoning to help him cope with whatever bothered him today, exactly the way she knew he'd do for her anytime her feelings made her go a little nuts.

“I really made you a rebel with this swimming in your clothes thing, huh?” she murmurs, tilting her head to the ocean with her smile widening, teasingly “I mean, it's a little late to be freezing my butt out there, but you could've called me to join, no? I can be a little rebel too…”

“Just a little, yes, Inspectora?” Sergio's eyes crinkled as he smiled, shortly and awkwardly, his head ducking at his lap to avoid eye contact “I, well, I wasn't exactly planning on doing it, until… until I-I sort of… Was already there, water on my waist.” he gestured nervously, his hand making as if to push the glasses that weren't there back to the top of his nose “I, you see, I-I had a couple more of these before,” he lifts his glass, swirling the wine “and then I suppose the alcohol must've made me think I wanted to get rid of something very badly, for I threw it at the waves. But as soon as I saw it floating away I regretted it, and let's just say I had to dive in and fish it back on myself…” he shook his head, shyly, looking at her through his lashes with a shrug and a self-deprecating smirk “Not my finest moment, so I'm glad you weren't here to see me destroying the beauty of fully-clothed swimming so pathetically, indeed.”

Raquel's smile faded as he spoke. Frowning, not liking the look in his eyes, she forgot the space she intended on giving him and reached to grab hold of one of his hands in hers, bringing it to her lap. Immediately she realized her instinct to be right, for Sergio's cold fingers squeezed hers quite frantically, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, sort of leaning forward towards her, his eyes sparkling in the reflection the moon provided on the waves.

Oh, my love.

“Sergio, did you get rid of Andrés' watch?”

His features twitched, a grimace of shame, and he nodded “Tried.” his voice was a whisper, that he drowned inside his glass in a nervous gulp of wine. Then, he shook his head, wiping clumsily a drop of water that slid from somewhere around the bridge of his nose, then down his cheek “I-I, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, Raquel. What damn good would've come out of getting rid of the only thing my brother has left me…” he sighed, tremulously, scoffing at himself “My father's watch, Raquel. This old contraption he had restored for me because I'd refuse putting it aside in twenty years, all of it so that I'd have it in time before the heist… so that I'd have 'a second to remind our reasons' on me, he said.” Sergio's whole face scrunched, as if some sort of physical pain cut him from the inside “Same damn thing Dad told me the day he left to die, leaving me this watch so I'd have a piece of him, and since then it's become… It's become this piece of Andrés and that bastard smile of his as well, Raquel, and now it won't probably even work anymore…” he closes his eyes shut, trembling “I-I'm such an idiot-”

“Hey.” Raquel scooted closer to him, passing her arms through his, her chin propped on his shoulder as she tilted her head backwards to meet his eyes “Only I can call my boyfriend that, you hear me?” sighing, she asked softly “Where is it?”

“Over my shirt.” Sergio nodded towards it, and Raquel turned to reach for it. Turning the simple, delicate watch she'd only seen him take off to sleep over in her hands, Raquel saw how he'd attempt to dried it, although droplets of water had inevitably leaked inside it as she tapped its glass, its hands remaining frozen, still marking the same time from about an hour ago. The engraved quote “a second to remind your reasons” shone as she ran her thumb softly over the back of it.

“We'll ask Aylin if she knows any watchmaker in the village to take a look at it later.” she tells him, turning his hand over to set the watch firmly around his wrist, back where it belonged, planting a soft kiss to his palm before resting their joined hands back over her thigh again “But even if it can't be fixed, it doesn't matter.” she entwined their fingers, squeezed his hand “I'm sure your brother wouldn't care, for he gave it to you so that you'd keep on you as a reminder of himself and your father, not as just one more gift. What matters, carinõ, is that it's become important enough for you to make you dive into the ocean at night just to retrieve it back.”

Leaning her cheek to his arm while watching him mull over her words, she felt how cold and damp his skin felt, how he'd punished himself by seating there and letting shivers consume his exposed chest until now.

“Berlim was…” Sergio shook his head, his voice cracking “Sometimes reminding him is… difficult, complicated. I kept… looking at it, today, over and over, and, I-I don't know, Raquel…” he gulped, turning the watch anxiously around his wrist “ It was hard not to replay his death over and over, I suppose, just at the sight of this. It felt simply so… revolting, unfair. Then next thing I new, I'd already launched it at the waves. And at first… at first it made me feel so damn relieved you wouldn't believe it, Raquel. So, so much.” his tone was raspy, strangled, and he squeezed her hand so firmly it hurt “Until I realised, realised… I couldn't. Shouldn't. Immediately, it was as if this stone-shaped weight settled inside me, heavying me all over, a hundred pounds over my shoulders. It made me regret, then go after after it like the moron I am, so fucking ashamed and hoping I could somehow grasp his memory back-”

“Shhhh.” Her heart ached as she attempted a smile at him, rubbing his arm up and down in attempts of lending him a little of her warmth, at least. Feeling her own eyes filling at the sight of Sergio's shining ones, Raquel cradled his face in her hands, blinking her own tears away “You don't have to feel ashamed, you hear me? It's okay for you not to want to suffer nor carry willingly reminders of your losses around, Sergio. Means you're human. Means it's normal for you to want to run away from bad, painful memories, sometimes. It's perfectly okay…”

Sergio rested his forehead to hers, eyes closed, pulling Raquel to his chest as a tremulous gasp escaped his lips. She tried to keep her eyes open and watching him, but it was proven impossible as Sergio nuzzled his nose to hers, lips brushing softly against her cheek before he buried his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, releasing what it seemed to be a lifetime held breath, warm and heartfelt, against her skin.

Her eyes drifting closed, Raquel hugged him back and let him drown his sorrow inside her arms.

Very soon this morning, soon as the sun peeked at the horizon, she'd woken up suddenly and for no apparent reason to find herself alone in their bed. Missing the usual feel of Sergio's arms wrapped around herself, she'd sat and turned around to see where he'd went, finding his familiar form observing the sunrise by himself at the beach outside. Knowing the occurrence of his nightmares and troubled sleep the past few days very well by then, for she was the one to comfort him and witness him toss and turn, calling out his brother's name in the night, Raquel assumed he needed to clear his head off but didn't want to wake her up.

Nevertheless, she went after him. And wrapped her arms around him from behind as soon as she was close enough, hands sliding to his chest as she glued herself against his back, being able to feel the deep intake of air he took as soon he felt her touch. She'd earned herself a weak smile, Sergio's larger hands finding and grasping hers thankfully as she hugged him tighter, wishing to able to send all his troubles away with something as simple as her presence, alone. Together they stood, until sun rays colored the sand by their bare feet, orange glowing and outlining their joined bodies in soft warmth.

And then Raquel pulled him back towards the house, Sergio following willingly, wrapping himself all around her in return. Soon they no longer walked, but stumbled upon their unmade bed, falling over the mattress together amidst Sergio's pouring ticklish kisses all over her neck and shoulders and Raquel's breathless, relieved laughing out loud.

Their lovemaking was rushed and intense, a frantic ripping of clothes and ablazing hands exploring exposed skin, until Sergio's hips furiously met hers, coaxing shared gasps of relief out of both. Raquel's pent up desire for his touch made her dig scratches with her nails into his back, such was her pleasure, coaxing him into moving, harder, faster, deepest as possible within every thrust inside her until they both reached a sudden, toe-curling climax almost at the same time. Collapsing above her, Sergio's arms enclosured Raquel in a warm cage in which she immediately melted, his lips pressed against the pulsing hollow of her throat as they both struggled to catch their breath. She smiled in contentment, although briefly, once she noticed how tense and still he rested inside her embrace, silent even as she drew lazy shapes over his back with her fingertips, trying to get some actual words out of his mouth to express what had tormented him so much during the night.

Then, finally, as she felt moisture where his cheek had come to rest right above her heart, Sergio breathed his confession in a harsh whisper “He'd been forty-six today.”

And without further words needed, with her heart sinking, Raquel understood. It torn her how little there was she could actually do for him, but to hug him and feel his pain and let him hold onto her, caressing his hair as his silent tears slid between her breasts.

She'd never got to meet Andrés, besides for that brief and mostly unpleasant encounter with him as Berlim back at the heist, but that morning she and Sergio both fell asleep feeling deeply for his loss at heart.

When she'd woken up again, was to the strong smell of Sergio's cologne filling her senses, once during their sleep he apparently had turned on his side and crushed her to himself at some point, entangling his limbs around her in a death grip. Raquel's face glued to his neck, for she honestly felt hotter within the second against his warm body, but soon she found out she didn't bother much, when it was clear by his slow heartbeats Sergio felt deeply comforted and at peace in their sweaty embrace. She was, in fact, just starting to doze off again, lulled by the sound of his regular breathing, when he released her a bit, clearly awake, to cradle her face in his hands and place a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Good morning.” he'd said, smiling, and with that Raquel thought— wanted to believe— his troubled thoughts had ceased tormenting him, at least for today.

And true to his best abilities of putting up a facade, Sergio managed to convince her pretty well with another kiss and the promise of having breakfast ready for her downstairs, before he'd retrieve his glasses by the nightstand and left her hugging a pillow in lieu of his body, to disappear inside their bathroom displaying a relaxed smile on his face. Through the rest of the day, he never mentioned his brother nor the sorrow he'd expressed freely in her arms that morning again.

Raquel never approached the subject either, knowing that Sergio was bound to shyness and embarrassment if pushed into expressing himself prematurely, especially when the control freak inside him reacted so poorly upon having his emotions on check. And so she went along with his good humor and set about watching him closely, instead.

She laughed along Aylin and her mother's silly conversation topics at the breakfast table while accepting the coffee mug he handled her with a quick peck on the lips, watching him with the same moved gratitude of every day as he walked around her chair to deliver Paula's plate first, a smile opening on his face as the little girl approved soundly of her chocolate chips and bunny-shaped pancakes made out of scratch. Raquel even sneaked by the old piano Sergio had pushed against a corner in their living room, later, leaning onto the instrument in silent awe to observe him coaxing her daughter's enthusiasm into actually sitting and learning a few clumsy notes under his patient guidance. Unsurprisingly, she'd almost embarrassed herself by actually tearing up once Paula eagerly started playing the song they've been practicing for about two months now, Sergio's encouraging murmurs making her little girl smile proudly, seemingly suddenly so attentively and mature Raquel wanted nothing but to hug her tightly and never let her grow up.

But, above all, Raquel felt as if she could actually weep if any of them lifted their eyes from the keys long enough to acknowledge her presence there. Because family was the only word she could think of to describe Sergio's hand on Paula's shoulder and the little girl's clear admirance upon him every time he'd smile approvingly when she'd hit the right notes— the two halves of her heart, merging together into actually loving and caring for each other right there before her eyes.

Not for the first time since she'd brought her family to live in Palawan, Raquel felt deeply thankful for Sergio's willingness into making them a part of his life as well. He was such a different man here amongst them, and little by little she saw how he'd started to reveal new sides of his personality just by interacting with them. He no longer was the Professor nor Salva to her, but Sergio instead, a junction of both personalities into this man worth so much more Raquel could see both her daughter and mother starting to discover— and falling in love— for his true self as well.

Right now, being hugged and hugging him equally fiercely back, Raquel wished their newfound love could be enough balsam to relieve the lost of his loved ones somehow. Almost as if sensing her worry, she felt Sergio's chest expand against hers as he sighed very deeply, cupping the back of her head with both hands before finally releasing her, pulling back. She found pain still there in his face, but his eyes were clear once again, albeit intense, his attention solely focused on her in a way that made Raquel's stomach flutter in unexpected butterflies.

“We should get back inside.” he whispered, his features softer, tender, his hands moving to rub her upper arms “You're starting to freeze.”

"You are the only one freezing here, Professor.” deciding they've loathed over sadness enough for today already, Raquel opened a mischievous smirk at him. Smitten, she stole his glass of wine for herself and tossed her head back, emptying it in two gulps. Licking her lips, she left it behind on the sand, very much enjoying the way Sergio's pupils dilated as he watched her, amused.

“I've learned a long time ago that the best way to warm up is being creative.” she said, then leaned in for a kiss Sergio returned so hungrily she moaned against his mouth, coaxing a frustrated groan out of him as soon as she pulled back, smiling, and giggling got to her feet “You can get your old man's ass back inside later, 'cause right now you owe me a dance, Marquina.” she offered him her hands “Moondance is still my top ten Van Morrison favorite, so if you could, you know, get yourself moving while the moon is still out, that'd be great.”

“They'll have to get this engraved on my tombstone.” Sergio shook his head, smiling “Dead by Raquel Murillo's hands. Poor man couldn't say no, they'll say.”

And he grabbed her hands, stood up, resting his own hands around her waist to nuzzle her neck, feeling finally brought out of his own head there against her, happy and alive.

“Funny. Last night it seemed I was handling you just fine, no?” Raquel whispered by his ear, putting her arms around his neck.

Sergio laughed into her hair “Oh, you've got low tactics, Inspectora. Very low.”

“Anything's fair in love and negotiation, Professor. I didn't invent that.”

“Wrong quote. Great point, though.” he whispered, then nibbled her ear, chuckling when she gasped and pushed her hips automatically against his.

“W-Why aren't we moving?” Raquel stuttered, actually a bit flushed “Dancing and standing aren't the same thing, you know.”

“Oh, I do.” Sergio took one of her hands in his, pulled her closer and pushed back to beam a smug smirk at her “I told you before I never enjoyed dancing, but I did grow up with Andrés by my side, you know. He'd coax me into waltzing him more times than I'd like to admit, and I'll let you know I happened to get very good at it, Murillo.”

He winked at her and started swaying on his feet, gently guiding her along. Unable to stop herself, Raquel smiled wide, gasping and laughing in delight as Sergio unexpectedly spun her around, bringing her breathlessly back to his chest with a laugh of his own.

“You're not so bad, I admit it.” she breathed against his ear, heartbeats happily pounding, her chin over his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. Closing her eyes, she wished they could spend the whole night like this, blissful and lost in their own world.

“Well, I was taught well.” Sergio spun them in lazy circles, putting her messy hair behind her ear “My brother would come back from the dead just to wack me on the head if I'd embarrass myself in front of a pretty girl like you, Inspectora.”

“Pretty girl, huh?”

“Yes, very pretty. Hot, too. Naughty. And oh, so horny sometimes…”

She slapped him playfully on the chest.

“That's a good comment to reflect about on the couch, you know.”

“You think? 'Cause I think some punishing sex would teach me a better lesson-”

She silenced him with a kiss, one that escalated very quickly, up until they stopped swaying to devour each other's mouths, breathing loudly and eating one another's moans, the freezing ocean breeze ignored around them once hands caressed and burned every bit of exposed skin there was to be touched. Sergio was almost lifting off her feet when Raquel pulled back, breathlessly, resisting the need to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Let's get back inside.”

“But I thought you wanted a dance first.” Sergio murmured, showering her jaw line in languid kisses “I was starting to feel rather fond of this new dancing style, to be honest…”

“Sergio.” Raquel protested, faintly and barely audible as her eyes tended to roll every time his mouth touched her skin “Carinõ, I'd love to, but if we keep dancing with your hands wandering in this pace, soon enough both Ailyn and my mother will be able to spot my bare ass from all the way inside the house.” she wrinkled her nose, reminding a few near-misses in her teenage days “And trust me, she wouldn't let us hear the end of it anytime soon…”

“Alright, alright. Back inside.” Sergio sighed, releasing her to gather his shirt from where he'd left it in the sand and hurry back to her side so fast Raquel giggled, before he grabbed her hand and pulled them to the house “Let's go. Don't stop or make eye contact, or else they'll make questions!”

His seriousness made her laugh harder as they entered the house, Sergio pulling her behind himself like a man on a mission. They crossed the living room and went for the stairs like teenagers on a secret relationship, sneaking into the bedroom instead of out of it, while hoping the women inside the kitchen wouldn't catch them on sight. Her mother's sharp instincts, however, were not to be underestimated, and soon they heard her shout:

“Don't forget to dry yourselves, otherwise you'll catch a cold!”

Laughing at Sergio's deer on the highlights looks, Raquel called back “Don't worry, Mamá!”

As she heard Marivi's and Aylin's amused laughter downstairs, Raquel guided a flustered Sergio towards their room, thinking a cold wouldn't be a price so high to pay for all she could've expected from a dance under the moonlight with the man she loved, and more.

#marquillo #sergio marquina #raquel murillo #sergio x raquel #my fic #lcdp 3 #serquel #marquillo/serquel fanfiction #angst/sort of ??

[ghostofviperwrites]

Challenge

Requested by @littlebluespoon

Pairing:  Minoru Suzuki/FC/Sanada

Category:   Smut

Warnings:  explicit language, sharing, punishment, sexual content

3.            Say please or it’s not happening

“So, you want the pretty boy, do you?”  Minoru Suzuki asked casually as you walked through the front door of the loft you shared with him.  You almost stumbled at his question, spinning wildly to look at his face needing to get a read on his temperament.  Of course, Minoru was the king of the impassive expression and he gave nothing away as he looked back at you with an arched eyebrow as he awaited your response.

“Wh..what do you mean?” You stuttered gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.   You hoped he didn’t mean what you thought.  Hoped you hadn’t been so obvious but judging by his question you had failed miserably.  You knew better.  Minoru saw everything.  Knew everything.  Why would you think he wouldn’t notice you lusting after another man?  You just couldn’t help it though.  Seiya Sanada was so damn pretty.  He was gorgeous, aloof, stylish.   You couldn’t deny the tingling between your thighs or the way your nipples tightened in his presence.  

“I’m not blind.  I’ve seen the way you look at Sanada.”   Minoru hung up his coat and walked down the long hallway stopping outside the doors to THAT room and your shoulders slumped.  You stripped off your clothing and followed him, immediately kneeling and putting your hands behind your back, head lowered once you entered.   The doors slammed shut ominously behind you and you watched Minoru’s feet as he circled you.  

“I’m sorry MiSu,” You said keeping your eyes trained on the floor.  

“what are you sorry for?”  MiSu asked.   “Have you done something?”  

“No!” you vehemently denied.  “I would never!  I’m sorry for looking at another man.”  You said softly.  

MiSu walked away from you, over to his chair and beckoned you forward.   On all fours you crawled to him, taking your place between his knees, keeping your eyes downcast until he gave you permission to look up at him.  

“You are very obedient, and I am generally pleased with you.”  MiSu said offering rare praise that made your eyes light up.   “I do not expect you to be blind.   You are a young woman and you have desires.   You can’t always control them.”  He gently ran his hand down your hair, with a small smile.  “Now bring me pleasure.”  

Eager to show your gratitude you made quick work of freeing MiSu from his pants. This room was usually a room of punishment and pain, so you were excited to have avoided either of the two.   Mouth wide you took his cock into your throat taking him deep immediately the way he liked it.   Holding him in the back of your throat your hands caressed his balls as you hummed around him, sucking hard to give him the pressure he liked before easing him out slowly and bobbing back down immediately.    You kept this rhythm up, using your lips and tongue to caress his length as he moved in and out of your mouth, your tongue swirling over his tip as it came to the front of your mouth.  You locked your lips around just the head and sucked hard your hands stroking his length and playing with his balls as you felt him jerk the first streams of his cum landing on your tongue.   You held it in your mouth until he was done, pulling off and opening your mouth wide, showing MiSu your cum coated tongue until he nodded giving you permission to swallow.  

After that night MiSu didn’t bring up Sanada again.  Any time you were at his work you made sure to stay right in the Suzuki Gun locker room and away from temptation.   Minoru had responded amazingly well, and you were not looking to rock the boat.    

After such a night at the arena you walked along with your hand firmly clasped in Minoru’s hand as he led you out to the waiting town car to head home. When he helped you inside you froze as sitting in the seat across from you was Seiya Sanada.  

“Sit down love.”  Minoru said calmly, the command evident in his voice.   You nervously sat down gaze darting between the two men as you tried to discern what was going on.   You were getting nothing as Sanada’s face was possibly more impressively blank than Minoru’s.   “Don’t be rude, say hello to Seiya.”  Minoru said as he slid into the seat next to you.  

“Hello Seiya,” You said quietly receiving a nod in return.   The car pulled away and silence filled the limo, you shifting uncomfortably as Minoru’s hand idly stroked your thigh.   Finally, Sanada broke the silence.

“You planning on telling me what I’m doing here?”  Sanada asked Minoru, arching a questioning eyebrow as he waited for a response.   Your eyes widened in surprise as you realized Sanada was in the dark as to why Minoru had invited him to his home.  

Minoru chuckled and leaned back against the seat eyeing Sanada speculatively.   “You’re blunt.  I appreciate that. So I’ll be blunt in return.”  Minoru said with a nod.  “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.”   You gasped, facing turning fifty shades of red as Sanada looked over at you without a change in expression.

“Of course she does.   They all do. But why should I care?”   Sanada asked turning his attention back to Minoru as he dismissed you.   “You want me to fuck her for you? Not getting the job done?”  He challenged with a smirk.   Your mouth dropped open, eyes flying to Minoru for his reaction to the blatant insult.  

“Apparently not.”  Minoru said glancing pointedly at you.  It was only at that moment that you realized you were in a whole lot more trouble than you had originally thought.   Apparently, Minoru wasn’t quite as okay with your little crush as he made it seem.  

“So again.  Why should I care?”  Sanada asked watching the interplay between the two of you with something akin to interest.

“It’s not often I offer my lover up on a silver platter Sanada.”  Minoru said wryly.   “Perhaps you should not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“From what you’re telling me I don’t need you to offer her up.  I could fuck her whenever I want.  With or without your approval.”   Sanada countered.  

You felt like you weren’t even in the car as the two men bantered back and forth. You could tell Sanada was pressing Minoru’s buttons, which wasn’t going to end well for you.  Whatever Minoru had planned for you wasn’t going to get any easier if Sanada continued to antagonize him.

You were relieved as the car pulled up to Minoru’s building, but a pit of dread settled in your stomach as you followed Minoru into the lift trailed by Sanada.   As much as they had been bickering in the car you were surprised Sanada was still hanging around making you again get the sense more was going on than you understood.

“Go,” Minoru said as you stepped off the elevator nodding towards his room. You hesitated for a brief second, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Minoru before you hurried over to the doors. Trying to ignore the fact that Sanada was standing there next to Minoru you stripped off your clothes in record time and darted through the doors.   Taking several deep breaths, you tried to calm the panic you felt rising in you. You had never imagined your fascination with Sanada was going to lead to this.  You felt completely humiliated that Sanada was witnessing first hand exactly how you behaved for Minoru.   But you knew disobeying was the worse option.   The last thing you wanted was to anger him further.  

Hearing footsteps approaching you hurriedly dropped to your knees, back to the door with hands behind your back.  Your eyes trained on the floor you struggled not to tense as the door opened.   You recognized Minoru’s shoes as he walked in front of you letting you know that it was Sanada who you felt standing behind you.  

“Despite the chaotic nature of my stable, Sanada, at home I prefer order. Obedience.   Loyalty.  Fidelity.” Minoru said, each word coming out harsher than the last.   “I expect my paramour to follow these rules without err.”   His hand reached out giving your hair a sharp tug.  “She has failed.”   You felt a pang in your heart at his words.  Undeniable though they were it stung to hear yourself so bluntly picked apart.  

“So, fucking me is a punishment?”  Sanada asked sounding rather insulted.  “I think you’re a bit backwards in your thinking. No woman has ever looked at fucking me as a punishment.”

“No Seiya.  You are not the punishment.  More of a precursor to the punishment.”  Minoru said with a dark laugh.   “I fully expect her to enjoy every second she lies with you.   Just how much she enjoys it is going to determine just how harsh her punishment becomes.”  You couldn’t help raising your head, frightened eyes meeting Minoru’s as a murmur of protest came from you.  His steely gaze had you immediately dropping your head and you knew you had just added another punishment to your growing list.  

“So, the more she likes it, the more she gets punished?”  Sanada laughed.  “I like it.”  He circled you, inspecting you in contemplation.  “Okay.  I’m in. But only if she asks me nicely.”  

“You hear that pet? Sanada has graciously agreed to fuck you as a favor to me. Ask him.”  Minoru ordered.  

“Will you fuck me Sanada?”  You asked through gritted teeth.  

“Say please or it’s not happening” Sanada said.  You could hear the taunt in his voice and you really wanted nothing more than to tell him off.   But there was still that part of you that wanted him.  Badly.  You could only imagine MiSu’s wrath if you didn’t behave.  

“Sanada, will you please fuck me?” You asked again, hoping he wasn’t going to keep pressing you.  

“Get on the bed.”  Sanada said and you rose to your feet incredibly conscious of the fact that you were naked and could feel his eyes on you as you walked to the bed.  

“How do you want me?” You asked clearing your throat nervously.

“On your back.  Spread those legs of yours so I can get a good look at you.”  Sanada said.  

You laid back on the bed, watching as Minoru took a seat in his chair.

“I assume you don’t mind an audience Sanada.” Minoru said.   “At least not based on the stories I’ve heard.”

Sanada shook his head.  “I don’t mind.”  He turned to look at you, spread open and waiting for him a smirk appearing as he saw the glistening slick between your thighs belying your excitement.   You couldn’t help but watch as he undressed, his body such a contrast to Minoru’s.  

“So how many times are you going to come for me?”  He asked moving to stand at the end of the bed.  

“None.” You said emphatically looking over at Minoru, seeking approval but only finding him shaking his head with an amused smile.  

“Unfortunately for you I live for challenges.”  Sanada said trailing his fingers along your calf.   “I hate to tell you, but I’ve never been with a woman that I wanted to make cum that hasn’t.”  You shivered as his fingers danced over your mound and up your stomach trying not to look at the hard body leaning over you.  “You just telling me zero combined with the fact that you’re going to get punished based on how much you enjoy what I do to you, means you’re in for a long night.”  

#sanada fanfic #sanada imagine #minoru suzuki fanfic #minoru Suzuki imagine #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

[post-itpenny]

Blacklight

@grotesquegabby Alex and Peregrine being Alex and Peregrine on a visit to see Magpie. I had way too much fun writing these two, Hope I got Alex’s reactions right uwu.

Alexander popped into the reality that was Adeline’s pocket dimension. He was on his way to visit Magpie again. Something that he had continued doing ever since the first visit with Maggie.

Today he had a battery powered CD player tucked under his arm, Magpie wasn’t the best at communicating but she clearly was still having trouble with her memory, besides she had been very much out of the cultural loop before. He had given a couple of choice CDs for Fanny to hold and today he planned to start educating his friend.

Alex was musing over if he should let her listen to Journey, Nirvana, or Whitney Houston first before stopping in his tracks.

There was someone else standing before Adeline’s cottage.

And damn if the white hair wasn’t a giveaway.

Magpie has mentioned her brother on only rare occasions but the message was clear on their relationship.

From her place around Alex’s waist Fanny gave a deep growl. Alex’s smile dropped just a fraction. So big brother finally came to visit huh?

Peregrine turned, surprised that another person would be he and frowned at the sight of Alex. Vespers had mentioned his Aunt’s friendship with the chaotic clown, something Peregrine knew could only promise disaster.

Alex grinned, “hey there old man how’s it hangin? Name’s Alex.”

Peregrine’s frown deepened, Vespers wasn’t kidding about the 90’s thing. “Peregrine, and I’m here to visit my sister. I do believe Adeline had prohibited most visitors however.”

“Ah well, Granny and I go way back, it’s all good. Besides, gotta check in on homegirl. Surprised you didn’t do so sooner. Being your baby sister and all.”

Peregrine sneered at the comment and knocked on Adeline’s door. “Well we all can’t be so popular as to have acquaintanceship with elders… or is it more that you’ve just the kind of person that gets under everyone’s skin?”

Alex gave his sweetest smile, “naw man she’s real chill. Not salty like the ocean or some people you know what I mean?”

There were tiny salt shakers on Alex’s sunglasses. Peregrine growled but before he could say anything the door opened to reveal Adeline.

Who had sliced peaches in her hair.

“Oh good you must be the brother, I see you got my message then.”

Peregrine gave a deep bow, Madam Adeline, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Adeline chuckled and ushered Peregrine in before turning to Alex. “Hello Alexander, not sneaking in this time I see.”

Alex chuckled. “Well now no need to be trippin Granny. How did you know anyways?”

Adeline smirked, “You’re not the quietest when sneaking in through a window Alex dear.”

“With a jacket that loud he’s hard to miss,” Peregrine mumbled under his breath.

If Adeline heard she did not comment, Alex on the other hand had a grin that grew even wider.

“So she’s been making it rain fruit in the house.”

Both Peregrine and Alex stumbled to a hail tat Adeline’s statement. Alex laughing and Peregrine with his head in a hand.

“May I ask why?” Peregrine asked with a sigh.

Adeline gave a tired smile, “it’s been the past two times I fed the animals.” She answered with a sweep of her arms at the variety of creatures that scurried and flew about the place. “I always keep carnivores separate for obvious reasons. Most of these are vegetarian or insectivores.”

Peregrine sighed again, “she’s trying to be… helpful.”

Adeline chuckled at the answer, Peregrine frowned in embarrassment.

As they walked through the halls of the Elders home Peregrine noticed more and more of Magpie’s influence. Flowers like thistles and bluebells growing out of the floor boards. Strange blotches of color on the walls. Peregrine continued to apologize over and over on his sister’s behalf and over and over Adeline waved him off.

“She’s recovering dear and struggling to express her thoughts and feelings. If this helps then at least the biggest worry is peach juice in my hair.”

Alex smirked the whole time, all Peregrine seemed to care about was that his sister didn’t make a mess. How was that huh?

Alex made a point to stroll through Magpie’s door first. She was clearly happy to see him and once again did not mind when Fanny tried to swallow her face. The creature giving her a lick on the cheek before making its way to the bed and forcing itself under Magpie’s limp hand.

“Hey, hey Chica how's it hanging?” Alex greeted with a smile.

Maggie smiled back, she had been working very hard to be able to do so. Only… the smile left when she saw Peregrine in the doorway.

Alex watched the two. Peregrine was clearly a mixture of guilt and relief at seeing his sister but Magpie was much harder to read. A strange combination of too many emotions at once flickering through her eyes and a mouth caught between a smile and a frown. It was almost ironic but it seemed she had full memory of her brother.

“Hello Magpie,” Peregrine quietly greeted.

Magpie’s eyes flicked away, she seemed as if bracing herself for something.

Peregrine entered the room slowly but then stopped, realizing he was to get no response from her.

“She can’t speak,” Adeline said from the doorway. I’m working as quickly as I can with her before muscle apathy becomes too much of an issue but her movement is limited. She still seems to get locked up sometimes but she is becoming quite expressive. She does tend to “lock-up” however so I try to keeper relatively calm” Adeline’s eyes flicked back and forth between the siblings. “I’ll… give you some time to visit.”

Her eyes then landed on Alexander for only a moment, and it occurred to him perhaps she was placing trust to not let things get too out of hand.

Once again, Alex’s smile dropped just a fraction.

Peregrine stood in front of his sisters bed and said nothing, Magpie watched him completely unable to say anything.

Alexander- quickly decided he was over this.

“Heya Pie I brought some tunes!” Alex announced as he sat the cd player on the bed. “Come on Fanny spit them out.”

The fanny pack creature compiled by opening its mouth wide and spitting out several cds.

Magpie appeared surprised but also fascinated with Fanny’s trick, Peregrine was clearly disgusted.

It was actually really entertaining to introduce Magpie to different bands and music artists. Some she very clearly did not like, others however Alex watched as she tried to bob her head along.

Alex grinned as he changed cds. “Anyways, here’s Wonderwall.”

Peregrine groaned.

Alex whipped his head around, the white-haired clown had stepped back at some point. Begrudgingly observing his sister’s so-called “music lesson.”

Alex smirked, “let me guess. Not a fan of the classics bro?”

Peregrine sneered, “I’m not your “bro,” and none of what you’re playing is a “classic.”

“Chill now homeslice.” Alex chuckled. “Sorry my music is not your vibe.”

Peregrine pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, clearly trying not to lose his temper. “Could you please just speak like a normal person?”

“Says a guy with that accent.”

“I live in Scotland!”

“Relax dude, I’m just saying you sound like some reject Scrooge McDuck.”

“Ah leas I don like sound some blethering radge with is heid full o’ mince!”

Peregrine slapped a hand over his mouth. Alex busted out laughing. Magpie watched the two going back and forth with a worried- yet helpless expression.

Outside thunder boomed.

Alex looked out the window, Peregrine to his sister. “Magpie please calm down.”

Alex whipped around, “dude let her be.”

Peregrine sighed, “if you really were her friend you would know she’s causing the weather.”

Alex smiled, “oh yeah man I get its her but no need to wig out on Pie.”

“I’m not.. Whatever the hell you just said.”

Outside it began to pour, heavy sheets of rain came down so thick you couldn’t see. The garden outside Magpie’s window quickly turning to a mud pit.

Peregrine reached out to shake his sister’s shoulder. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, mouth in a deep frown. She did not respond to him.

Peregrine called out to Magpie with no response. When Alex tried it was the same result.

Adeline came barging in she took one look and grabbed both men by their collars, tossing them out of the room. “What did I say about making her lock up? Go wait in the kitchen both of you.”

Peregrine and Alex were sent to the kitchen. The two sitting across from each other at the table. Alex with his usual smile and Peregrine looking as if he was ready to burst at the seams.

Outside it was still pouring rain.

“This is your fault,” Peregrine hissed. Why are you even here?”

Alex sat back, propping his feet on the table. “I’m just visiting my friend old man. Cause you know, that’s what friends do. Thats what family does. If it were my baby sister Bella then none of this would have happen you know what I’m sayin?”

Peregrine narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

Alex’s grin widened. “I’m just sayin no way I’d let some creep near my baby sis. No way I’d let her get hurt and I’d go after anyone that tried. I would certainly be visiting every day if she was hurt. But you know... To each his own fam I guess.”

Peregrine gave a very thin smile. “That’s right, so why can’t you mind your own business?”

“Or both of you stop acting like petty children?”

They two looked towards the door where Adeline stood with her arms crossed. “I just got her to unfreeze and it seems here I walk in and find the problem.”

Peregrine looked away in embarrassment, Alex giggled.

“You,” Adeline said with a finger pointed at Peregrine, “You need to set aside whatever crawled up your ass.”

Peregrine nearly fell out of his chair in shock. Alex nearly fell out of his trying not to break down into laughter.

“You,” Adeline pointed at Alexander, “you stop goading him. Now I don’t care who started it but I’m finishing it now because my patient is upset and flooding my yard.”

Peregrine rolled her eyes. “Just tell her to stop-”

“She is upset! She cannot speak! She cannot move! Young man I will not tell her to stop, if this is the only way she can express her distress then so be it! Do you have any idea how awful this must be for her? To be forced to listen to the people she cares about going back and forth with each other and she cannot do anything about it?”

Peregrine flinched at the elder’s words, Alex frowned. Frustrated with the slight guilt he now felt.

Adeline rubbed her temples, “both of you need to leave.”

They were shoved out into the rain. Peregrine giving a heavy sigh as he leaned against the frame of the cottage,he actually looked defeated.

“You don’t need to rub it in that I’m a terrible brother.” He growled as he rubbed the scar on his face. “But you have no idea what we’ve been through.”

Alexander shrugged, “shit happens my dude. Families fight and crud, the difference between your fam and mine is that you all will get over it at some point.”

Peregrine gave Alex a very long look as his words clicked into place. His frown softening.

“...oh.” Was all he said.

They started to walk off when Alex patted his waist in shock.

“Fuck I forgot Fanny!”

He ran around the cottage, Peregrine left with little clue as what to do but follow.

As big as Adeline’s cottage was on the inside the outside of it was quite small. Soon enough they were at Magpie’s window which Alex already knew how to jimmy open.

Magpie opened her eyes as the two climbed in. Fanny still resting under her hand but as soon as Alex was in the room the creature leaped out and swallowed his head.

“Good to see you girl,” came his muffled chuckle as he attempted to pull the creature off. Peregrine sighed as he walked up to his sister’s bedside and took her hand. He looked as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t seem to get the words out. Magpie gave him a sad smile nonetheless. She understood.

Peregrine then stepped back and looked around. With the growing evening the room had become quite dark. He turned to his sister with a questioning look. “Magpie do you not have any light in here at night?”

Magpie almost seemed to give a pleading look to her brother, Peregrine nodding with understanding as he walked to the door.

Alex looked between the two in confusion. “Where ya going old man?”

Peregrine looked over his shoulder. “Magpie is afraid of the dark and Adeline doesn’t have light in here for her.”

Little question marks appeared on Alex’s glasses. But then his signature smile appeared on his face. “It’s all slammin dude, Alex has the fix.”

Alex opened Fanny’s mouth before reaching inside, seeming to be rummaging around for something.

“Lucky you Granny’s got electricity in this joint now. A-ha!” Alex shouted in triumph as he pulled out the object he had been looking for. A small blacklight.

Alex plugged the light in and set it on Magpie’s bedside table. The dim purple light just strong enough to banish the nearest shadows and of course make both Magpie and Peregrine’s hair glow.

Magpie watched the light in wonder before having a supposed moment of clarity, looking to Alex in excitement.

Alexander grinned, “yeah just like the lights at the clubs. Do you remember?”

Magpie grinned, nodding her head.

Alexander’s smile broadened, she remembered more of him. She was remembering the fun they had hanging out together.

The two were clearly caught up in their excitement. Peregrine stepping back to watch with just the tiniest smile of relief.

From the doorway Adeline watched all three of them as they were completely unaware of her presence, she rolled her eyes with a smile and left them be.

[fanfictionized]

Jitters

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s crush on the reader has gotten to the point of him acting like a freaking teenager every time he sees her. His palms get sweaty, his heart beats faster and... blood rushes to places it shouldn’t be rushing to...

One thing leads to another and sexy times ensue.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, awkwardness, Sam and Steve being supportive assholes

Words: 5.2k whoops

Main Masterlist

The whole thing had started not long after you had arrived at the Stark tower.

Even though Bucky was a man of many secrets.

His brain held the mysteries of a thousand lifetimes and his super-soldier-trained and focused body was one to sustain every emotion. Even pain.

For that he had been trained for seventy years, so obviously he was neither prepared, nor did he know how to handle his feelings for you as his so resistant body and mind began to reveal this very secret he had tried to keep to himself.

His body began to fidget, his voice wavering, speech stuttering, sweating profusely and if all of that hadn’t been enough already… he was flustered.

Motherfucking Winter Soldier, one of the deadliest assassins in the world, freaking flustered by a girl. Blushing like a little boy every time you spoke to him.

No, he had never needed to train for this and he had never been prepared for this because even before his time with Hydra he had never needed help when it came to the topic of women.

Oooh, scary.

But here he was.

Standing in front of you while all his thoughts went out the goddamn window.

“So… tomorrow’s okay?” You asked sweetly with a smile on your face, hands clasped together as you tried to suppress your own nervousness.

“Bucky?” You spoke up again and at hearing his own name fall from your lips he finally snapped out of it.

“Yes! Good…” He almost barked, making you flinch slightly as his gaze landed on your wide eyes, his expression softening.

Was he sweating…?

“Ten- Ten’s fine.” He stuttered and you saw him swallow hard, Adam’s apple bobbing as your gaze fell to his throat and his jawline… and his handsome face once again.

Pull yourself together.

“Okay, perfect.” You said, a big smile appearing on your face but before you could move your hand to reach out for him, he had already turned away, stomping off to go into his room.

You admitted- he was a strange guy.

But he could be so freaking sweet and funny if he wanted to be.

That’s what made you fall for him in the first place.

Barely a month of you being there and he had been the only one not being too intimidating.

Keeping his distance and respecting your personal space, but always being there when you needed someone to talk to or even just company if you didn’t feel like talking but couldn’t stand to feel so alone anymore.

He was always great at making you feel comfortable. He has such a calming presence.

Even though he was one of the most dangerous people there as you had learned, so the ‘not too intimidating’ thing was kind of ironic.

But also true.

He made you feel save when no one else could.

But somehow after months and months of you staying there and you two becoming really good friends, he had begun to act strangely.

You thought that perhaps he was just having a backlash, or was just not feeling too well over that period of time, but after a while it felt like something else was behind that weird behavior.

And you were keen on finding out.

Because you needed to know if he was really fine. That’s what friends are for after all, right?

Yeah… friends…

So you thought that perhaps spending more time with him would do the trick, making an appointment for tomorrow morning so that both of you could train together.

He’d show you some fight moves; you’d be happy to even be close to him…

It’d be fine.

.

.

.

“It’s not fine, Steve.” Bucky whined as he watched his friend pour himself a cup of coffee, mere hours before he’d go train with you.

He hadn’t even been able to sleep at night because of it, nightmares not having been the only thing to have kept him awake, staring at the ceiling and the glowing star stickers attached to it.

You had glued them on there after he’d had a particularly bad dream and following panic attack, only being able to find his way to your room in the anxious haze of adrenaline and dark thoughts- hoping you’d help him through it, to make it all go away.

And there was a reason that his brain had you memorized in a case of emergency.

You were his safe place.

So why was he still living through this nightmare of sweating-attacks, clammy hands and nervous stutter whenever he had finally found you?

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Bucky sighed, his hands clamping around his mug.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Steve spoke up, raising one judgmental eyebrow at him.

He knew that bitchy look on his face. He knew something he didn’t.

“What?” Bucky snapped back at him, brows drawing together and Steve could see his friend closing up physically; shoulders squaring in defense and eyes darkening.

“Now, let’s think about those “symptoms” you’re calling them-” Steve began, slowly walking around the kitchen counter to face his friend fully. Bucky’s head tilted to the side as he approached him, holding up his finger.

“We’ve all seen the way you’re around her, Buck. You can hide a lot, but not that.” He chuckled and Bucky’s dark expression turned into confusion.

“What? What that?” He stuttered, already feeling his rapid pulse in the palm of his hand.

“Your feelings for her, man! It’s obvious!” Steve laughed, counting on his fingers.

“You always get really nervous around her. You can barely build a sentence, let alone speak without stuttering. You start to sweat like… I really have not seen that before and quite frankly, it’s a little gross…” Steve continued and at hearing his words, the realization of it, he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

“And that.” Steve pointed at the blush spread across his face and Bucky only grumbled, turning back to face his coffee.

“Look, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Steve stepped closer, laying a hand on his friend’s back.

“She’s a great girl. You know we all love her and support whatever this is between you two… I’m just happy I can be the one giving yourelationship advice for the first time ever.” He chuckled and Bucky’s tense body relaxed a little at hearing him speak, letting out a low chuckle.

“Right…” He muttered before he turned to him again.

“Wait… did everyone notice?” Bucky asked in bewilderment and Steve only sent him a knowing glance, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Buddy” He took a deep breath before continuing “We all know… except for (y/n), so you better make that happen, Romeo.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at him, scoffing at his remark. Steve was rarely so cocky, but he guessed he had every right to be in his position for once in their lives.

“Whatever…” He muttered, sliding out of the bar stool to head for his room, head hanging low to avoid Sam’s stares who was just walking into the kitchen as well.

“Hey… what’re you guys talking about, huh?” He grinned, looking after Bucky.

“Nothing!” He snarled before he rushed into his room, hoping he hadn’t spotted the blush on his cheeks he unsuccessfully tried to hide behind the hair falling into his face.

He could only hear laughter coming from the two of them as he slammed his door shut.

.

.

.

Bucky entered the training room, hearing nothing but absolute silence and after looking around for a second, seeing nothing potentially hidden behind the sport equipment, he looked up at the digital clock hanging up on the wall.

Two minutes past ten.

You were never late to your training sessions with him.

Or anything that involved doing something with him for that matter.

But he didn’t have to wait for long before he heard chatter and laughter coming from behind him, right before the doors slid open and revealed you and Sam entering the training room.

Bucky sent him a confused look.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked him and the very second he saw Sam’s shit-eating grin, he knew exactly what he was doing there.

Him and Steve had talked after he had left. About the person entering the room next to him.

“Hey, Bucky!” You said joyfully, stepping forward to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down in a hug and he couldn’t suppress the look of surprise and shock on his face even as Sam was looking right at him.

Bucky didn’t even get the chance to wrap his arms around you like he so desperately wanted to before your warmth and your smell and your presence had left him and you stood before him with a wide smile and big, curious eyes as your hand still resting on his biceps ignited fire on his skin.

A warm and tingling sensation that let his brain shoot out endorphins like his heart would fucking explode from the excitement, feeling it pound rapidly behind his chest.

There was no way on earth she couldn’t hear that…?

“Oh, you look so good like that, Bucky!” You gasped as you saw that he had taken your advice and put his hair in a bun for training, pointing your finger at it.

Good idea because it was constantly hanging in his face, but bad idea because he was starting to feel an oncoming blush wanting to creep itself onto his face. And this time he couldn’t hide behind it.

And Sam’s presence and knowledge of him struggling in this situation wasn’t making this any easier for him to downplay his emotions.

He was like this little devil on his shoulder, a constant reminder of what he was missing out on, pushing him with only his presence or in this case; his goddamn fucking smirk.

Fuck.

“T- Thanks.” He stammered. Sam was pushing him. Not literally but his gaze told a thousand stories… the man was up to something. And he had the strong feeling he wouldn’t like what he was planning on doing.

You pulled back your hand, dangling awkwardly at your sides before you spoke up again.

“I’m… gonna go stretch, okay?” You asked and Bucky only nodded before you went past him, stepping onto the training mat.

Sam spoke up the second you were out of hearing distance.

“Go on now, man.” He urged and they both knew exactly what was going on.

Bucky grunted uncomfortably. His face heated up.

“Leave me alone.” He hissed between clenching teeth. His pulse was quickening.

“Do somethin’ or I will.” He sing-sang quietly and Bucky gulped, feeling fear clogging his throat as he watched you beginning to stretch on the mat, unfortunately not being able to tear his eyes away from your suggestive positions.

“Look, I can’t okay? I don’t know…”

“Hey, (y/n)!” Sam yelled suddenly and hearing his shout so close to his ear made him flinch, his already tensed-up form freezing as his eyes went almost comically wide.

Your head turned towards the two of them as you stood on the mat with your legs apart, bending over to one side of your legs, touching your foot with your fingers.

“Yeah?” You asked, seeing Bucky stare at you strangely. You had never seen his eyes that wide open.

“Robocop over here’s trying to pay you a compliment.”

Bucky was completely red as your eyes landed on him, seeing a smile appear on your face, eyes lighting up at his words.

“Yeah?” You straightened your back, looking at him.

And Sam only shoved him forward because his brain had just completely given up from the pressure, stumbling forward until he stood on the mat as well, mind fighting to find a fitting sentence to force out of his mouth.

“Yeah, y- you…” He stumbled over his words, running a hand over his neck. He could feel Sam’s eyes resting there.

“Nice…” His tongue was pressing against the roof of his mouth. Even his own brain knew better than to speak up around you.

“Moves…?”

He heard Sam sigh behind him in frustration, felt your quizzical gaze upon him as you tilted your head in confusion before he tried to save himself, alarm bells ringing in his head.

“I- I mean, no. Not- Not that, it’s… your… fighting skills…” he stammered, heart trying to escape through his throat.

“You’ve become… good. And good technique, this-” He was referring to your stretching, but thankfully you helped him out of his struggle.

“Thanks, Bucky.” You smiled “You want me to show you?”

“Show what…?” he asked after a second, looking like a lost puppy.

“The stretching…?” You asked back just as confused before Sam, who was still watching this, pretty amused, was chiming in.

“Yes, please! He really needs to loosen up a bit, I mean look at him.”

Bucky growled at him when you didn’t look, but eventually agreed.

“Okay then, just” You started, standing opposite of him.

“Follow my lead.”

You gave him a reassuring nod and he gladly took your advice, being happy he couldn’t possibly humiliate himself any more and just shut up for a while.

God, he hated Sam so much.

“Okay, so- just stand like this.” You stood in front of him. Bucky looked at you curiously and just a little anxiously. You let out a laugh.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Bucky. Just relax. That’s what this is about.” You told him and he took a deep breath before he nodded.

“Okay. We can just start with some jumping jacks.” You said and the minute you said that, Bucky knew this was worse than anything, because as soon as you started jumping, your boobs did, too, and there was little your sports bra could do to hide that.

Bucky swallowed hard, but did as he was told, trying so hard to keep his eyes away from your chest.

After what felt like hours you finally stopped and Bucky blamed the workout for his bright-red cheeks.

“Okay, now just roll your head back a little, loosen your neck a little.” You said and closed your eyes, a small sigh leaving your lips as you rolled your head back, revealing the soft skin of your neck and he could swear that everything you did was completely suggestive because all you were doing only seemed to make him even more tense and… somehow your movements turned him on.

No. Stop it. Not now.

He thought, clenching his eyes shut so that he wouldn’t see this.

So that he could fight off those feelings. The ones damming up in his dick because this could not ever happen. Nope.

“I’ve done this a few minutes ago, but let’s do it again because I think it’s really helpful for when you wanna fight- Sam don’t you want to join us?” You explained, turning to face Sam.

He only stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, eyeing Bucky intensely.

“Nah, I’m good.” He retorted, making Bucky roll his eyes and grumble.

“Fine.” You replied and turned back to face Bucky again.

“So what you can do now is try and touch your toes like that- “

You were standing sideways, bending forward to wrap your hands around your ankles while Bucky only stood there, mouth hanging open as he gaped at your flexibility, mouth going dry instantly.

“And when you do that” You said, not even noticing Bucky wasn’t doing as told “You can put your hands on the ground and try and… kind of crawl forward on your hands.”

And while you did just that, standing in front of Bucky, bent over, back arching and ass very prominently displayed in front of him, he could not bring himself to look away, shoulders tensing up to frame his head, eyes so wide they could positively pop right out of his skull as he spotted the outline of your panties while the leggings stretched so perfectly tight around your asscheeks.

The pleasure piercing through him was like a punch in the gut, making him bend forward slightly with the realization that blood was so quickly rushing down to fill his cock that he legitimately got lightheaded for a second, afraid he’d black out.

He stumbled away from you as he was heading for the exit, embarrassment tinting his entire face a dark red, but Sam was still guarding the door, looking at him with equally wide eyes because he had just figured out what that look of shame on Bucky’s face was.

“Man... are you-? “He looked down at his sweatpants in disbelief but Bucky was quick enough to hide the outline of his dick’s bulge through the fabric, tugging down his shirt hastily.

“Shut up, no. Fuck- shit, let me go!“ He hissed, body on fire due to the shame that was piercing him, skin crawling and his scalp prickling almost painfully.

His dick was pounding fiercely.

“Christ, man…” Sam let out a sound of surprise and a little amusement as he rolled his eyes, but let the poor man pass through the doors.

You looked after him as you finally realized Bucky had left in a hurry, looking back at Sam with a confused look on your face.

He simply shrugged his shoulders, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I think you should go after him.”

.

.

.

“Bucky?” You asked as you jogged after him, only seeing his broad back- bent over to shield the rest of him as he almost sprinted along the hallway, leading towards his room.

“Please don’t go, Bucky.” You begged, reaching out to grab his left biceps, realizing he wouldn’t feel it per se, but it still made him stop dead in his tracks.

“Why aren’t you talking to me?” You whined, trying to catch his gaze, but he continued to turn away from you, hunching over like he was trying to hide something.

Your eyes fell lower, but his hands weren’t holding onto anything and so your gaze turned into confusion before you essentially realized what else he was doing with them.

He had his shirt clutched tightly in his grip, tugging it down to hide something else. Something that caught your attention as it was bulging against the fabric of not only his pants, but his shirt as well.

Your eyes went wide with shock as you stopped dead in your tracks.

“Oh.” The tiniest gasp forced itself through your throat as it closed up, desperately working to swallow down the panic building up there.

There was no way he was actually...?

And as Bucky saw your eyes going wide, the shame punched him in the gut, nausea rising in the pit of his stomach.

His hands slowly went to hold his shaking hands in front of the bulge in his sweatpants. The least he could do after you had seen and realized why he was running away from you. After he had so incredibly inappropriately felt the rush in his bones and the excitement in his veins at the thought of you bending over on that mat for him.

He knew that you knew.

With every passing second your eyes grew wider and that tiny, gasping “oh”, that had left your lips so beautifully had had a different meaning then the one he wanted it to have.

He’d want you to make those sounds for him, sighing and sinking your head into the pillows as the sound left your lips with his name to follow- not as a shocking realization that probably filled you to the brim with disgust as you knew what a twisted fuck he really was.

Why he never could speak to you without stumbling over his phrases, without that look of terror on his face that didn’t tell you much.

But now you knew.

It had always been because of you.

Stumbling over phrases because the sight of you had numbed his tongue. Terror because he was afraid of fucking everything up.

He had that same look in that exact moment, too.

As blood tinted his cheeks red and he gulped down the nervousness having built up there in his throat.

“I- I…” he stuttered anxiously, but you shushed him with a kiss. 

Eyes closed and breathing slow because you were just testing the waters, letting your instinct overtake you as it was now only the slight press of your lips against his frozen ones that had him grow stiff underneath your touch.

Once silence- nothing- the pound of your heart in your ears, the deafening, deafening sound of it pounding its fists against your chest, blood pressure high and nerves on fire where your fingers grazed his burning cheeks.

First there was nothing. And then everything came crashing down at once.

His hand was on your waist as yours was in his hair, pulling closer and gasping breaths into each other’s mouths and clawing at clothes because you needed closer- always closer- as you fell into the safety of his bedroom.

“F- Fuck.” He whimpered as the door shut behind you, the sound faint to his ears. Your sounds were all that mattered.

Your gasping breaths against his lips, your small moans as he gripped your waist harshly… Fucking music to his numbed brain.

He panted against your lips as your equally trembling fingers pushed his shirt up his body, over his quivering abs, before he raised his arms to tear it from his body.

Your eyes were glued to his scar in an instant, but he didn’t feel the urge to cover it up. Strangely, there was no such urge. Nothing that told him that anything about this was remotely wrong. Because, hell… he let out a breathless chuckle as he spotted your smile, warm and full and everything he needed – you could never be wrong.

He felt your smile against his lips as you pulled him down, fingertips gliding over the rough scar tissue, ripping a groan from his chest as your other hand dug nails into his side.

The pain mixed with pleasure and even the slightest touch burned hotly on his skin.

He couldn’t wait to feel all of you against him.

Your shirt came flying off as well as your sports bra and you sunk to the mattress right as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, spine curving as you moaned into the ceiling, raking fingers through his hair to tug at the strands, but it only spurred him on.

He knew this wasn’t wrong, couldn’t be, with you, yet the tension in his body wouldn’t ebb away. The rapid breathing came not from his arousal alone- from you arching your body to press your clothed cunt to his throbbing erection so desperately.

There was also fear. The one fear he always had with you.

Fucking everything up.

And you saw that in his eyes even after his hair had fallen into his face.

His movements had slowed down as he hovered above you, metal and flesh framing your head where his hands rested, but he couldn’t look at you.

Because he was scared.

His body was trembling like a fucking leaf.

So you only kissed him on his lips- very soft and very giving- pouring in everything you had to offer while he sunk into it. Enough to let you roll him over and take the upper hand, straddling his thighs while he could only stare up in wonder.

“You okay?” You whispered as you had moved your hair over one shoulder, leaning down to hover inches above his face, gently stroking your hand over his stubbly cheek.

“Yeah, I- I will be.” He muttered, letting out a small, desperate laugh as his fingers encircled your wrist, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You shook your head in disbelief, grinning and biting your lip before connecting your mouths once more.

And you had made him brave somehow because suddenly the fear melted away as his arms went around your body, hugging you to him as he opened his mouth for you and your tongue gladly accepted his invitation, tangling with his until you were both breathless.

His hands ran up your thighs, up and down your back to grip your hips and ground you down on his dick and it was that thought that had you moaning against his lips.

You quickly stripped the rest of your clothes, saw him wriggling on the mattress as he struggled to take off his sweats and boxers and you laughed when you came back to frame his hips with your legs again.

“Let me.” You mumbled against his lips and pulled them down his thick thighs before his cock slapped against his stomach to let you admire him in his full glory.

You each took a break from rushing this as you simply stared at each other, skin underneath your palms- yours on his chest and abs, his on your thighs and hips and ass – and you grinned like two idiots as you caught your breaths briefly, loving the feel of having each other right fucking there. So fucking close. And all to only yourselves.

Your hand wandered lower as you watched his throbbing erection, taking it in your hand and eliciting a guttural groan from him, his grip around your waist growing tighter.

You began to jerk him as your breath sped up again, lust blurring your vision of everything else but him as he was writhing beneath you, thighs trembling underneath your ass as he held himself back from thrusting into your hand, feeling his precome already spill over your fingers.

But your upper hand was short-lived when he looked down at you briefly before the hand on your hip had quickly reached down so that his thumb could rub at your swollen clit, making you jerk with the sudden stimulation.

“Shit-” He panted as you threw your head back with pleasure, sitting up to seal his lips over your pulse point and sucking hard on the skin of your throat, and it was that action that had you gripping his member tightly, the vibrations of his moan echoing through your skin, before you lifted your hips and quickly sunk down on him.

His gasp was choked-off, as was yours. Eyes wide and panting for breath as you let the pleasure of his intrusion wash over you, clinging to his shoulders and neck desperately while you caught your breaths.

His grip on you left bruises on your hips and ass, you were sure of that, but the thought alone only made you clench harder around him.

He growled as you did, something very primal that was being switched on in his brain because he was buried balls-deep inside you and there was only one task left to fulfill:

Claim you. Mark you. Make you his.

And he did as his hips suddenly drove themselves off the mattress, one hand gripping the sheets to steady himself while his cold one was splayed on the small of your back, keeping you in place as he began truly fucking you.

All the air left your lungs in a rush, as if punched out, drawing in big, gulping breaths before you could even think of screaming his name, but it only made him go faster.

But not fast enough.

He kept his hand on your back, the other gripping your thigh before he stood up with you in his arms, pressing his mouth to yours as he walked until your back hit the wall and you wrapped your legs around his hips quickly, arms around his neck, before he began pounding into you, driving oxygen out of your lungs and your body into the wall while you could do nothing but writhe and squirm against him.

“Oh, god- fuck, Bucky…” You moaned into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut while all that filled your ears was the sound of skin slapping on skin.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t fight him off even if you tried. But god, you wouldn’t want to even if your life depended on it.

He had you pinned. Trapped- between the wall and his body. Caged between cement and hard muscle with only his cock to connect your bodies, thrusting in and out of you at a maddening pace.

You could feel yourself beginning to clench down on him as he continued to hit that certain spot that had tears prick at your eyes and had you moaning uncontrollably against his throat while he gripped your ass and thighs hard and just kept going.

Kept your orgasm building up like a dam threatening to overspill and your moans turned high pitched, throwing your head back against the wall with a thump before it crashed over you in waves so ferocious they pulled him right with you.

“Oh, shit, (y/n)- fuck… ugh!” He groaned your name when he came undone, hips stuttering into yours as they drew out your orgasm, spilling inside you until there was nothing left to give.

Your limbs were shaking as you clung to his body, making him chuckle weakly with the realization as he held you closer to him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice wavering and still laced with the remaining arousal.

You could simply nod as you let the aftershocks rattle your body.

He kissed your throat lovingly, signaling to place you back onto your feet.

“Perhaps I should call you monkey now instead of doll, no?”

You scoffed, letting out a small moan when he pulled out, feeling his cum trickle down your legs before your feet hit the ground again.

You smiled weakly at him, knees trembling and arms numb as his heavy hand on your hip helped you balance on your feet.

You held onto his arms.

“Don’t you dare.” You huffed, pouting until he was laughing, too, staring down at you with affection in his eyes.

You were both still very naked but you didn’t care a bit as you connected your lips in a kiss once more.

This time slow. And gentle.

You held his face between your hands, pressing your forehead to his as he pulled back slightly.

“I can’t believe this finally happened just because you had a boner.” You shook your head incredulously and his mouth began to form a frown.

“You’re ruining the moment, dear.” He grumbled, making you giggle.

“I mean… there was really not much holding us back. Like I said… just your-“

He shushed you with another kiss on your lips and you could only grin and feel the flutter of your heart as you sunk back into his arms. And perhaps you’d let him take you another one or two times to make up for the forgotten workout session when you realized…

“Hey, uhm-” You mumbled against his lips seductively “How about I show you how to stretch again?”

And at hearing those words leave your lips, his eyes darkened once more, licking his lips as his stirring cock pressed into your skin...

“Can’t fucking wait, doll.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Bucky's metal arm #fanfiction #fanfic #mcu #The Avengers #Smut #fluff #oneshot

[liannyeong]

all we are

Summary: they say that when you meet the right one, you'll feel something different. they say that when you meet the right one, everything will be a thousand times more beautiful. but what do you do when you and that right one drifts apart?

Word count: 5146

Pairing: Jaebum X OC

Warning(s): angst

A/N: it’s been a long time since i last did angst :) this fic might be a mess because it really feels like a long time since i wrote anything so forgive me for that ><

“don't you think we've grown quite distant over the years?" she speaks her mind on the dining table, when the silence is heavy between them.

she doesn't know how it all boiled down to this: dark apartment, cold bed, silence heavy in the air whether it be with or without him. she doesn't know how they grew distant over the years. eight years of marriage and it's slowly falling apart. they don't talk as much anymore, they don't touch as much anymore, they don't see each other as much anymore.

jaebum always comes home late. on rare occasions, he doesn't come back for two or three days straight. all wrapped up in his work as a singer/songwriter. she doesn't complain though -- she understands that it's the nature of his job as how jaebum has always said. she has been telling herself that it won't affect their relationship, but only make them closer. with less time spent together, their hearts would grow fonder. but of course, it can occur the other way but she has always stashed it at the back of her mind.

and now, it's slowly making its way back to the front, to be the first thought in every situation.

but jaebum only looks up from his plate, and shrugs. "have we?"

she feels incredulous. he doesn't seem to notice their falling out relationship. "you don't think so?" she asks back.

he shakes his head slightly and replies curtly, "no."

just like that, the conversation dies. she doesn't know how else to sustain it when jaebum is being so closed off. when has it come to this, really? how did their relationship start falling apart? jaebum claims to not feel this growing distance between them. how can he not see it? or is it that silence have become a norm for them?

the drag of the chair snaps her from her thoughts. jaebum is already standing up, bringing his empty plate to the kitchen. as he cleans, he informs, "i'm going to the studio later."

"okay."

he dries off his hands and collects his belongings before padding over to the front door. no bids, no kisses, nothing to show goodbye. only silence and then, the click of the door.

///

the sound of hurried footsteps on the floor stirs her awake. hyejin flips on her back, peeking an eye to see what's happening. jaebum's shoving things into his bag, his face annoyed. he must be late. hyejin sits up slowly, rubbing her groggy eyes. then she throws the duvet off her body, padding over to where jaebum is.

"what's wrong?" she asks, voice still heavy from sleep.

"nothing," he answers curtly without sparing her a single glance. "just late."

"have you eaten? i can prepare something for you while you pack your--"

"no need. i can just grab something on the way," he says, tone cold.

"okay."

he zips his bag and throws it over his shoulder as he hasten to the doorstep. within a matter of seconds, jaebum slips on his shoes and is out of the apartment.

only then did hyejin let out a sigh. she throws herself onto the couch, but a yelps when there's a blunt jab at her waist. her hand scrabbles for the object. gripping onto it, she pulls it out from behind and holds it up.

jaebum's notebook. in his haste, it must have slipped off his bag. she sits up, staring at the book for a few moments. jaebum has never explicitly said that she cannot go through his things, but among all the things he owned, he has always been more secretive about this notebook. the book has a hardcover of cartoon cats all over it, of which she has always thought it's childish of him. since jaebum's already out, she reckons it's fine to take a peek. so she fans the pages until it catches on a certain page. a polaroid photo stuffed in between like a bookmark. she plucks it out, staring at the picture so hard that she could burn a hole through. the picture must have been taken quite a while back, for jaebum's hair was auburn in color. he has an arm draped over hyolyn's shoulder, the other hand held up in his signature 'peace' sign. hyolyn, too, has an arm around his waist and a thumbs up.

the photo has got her heart aching but what's even worse is the words "i love you" all over the open pages. jaebum's handwriting goes from legible to scribbles. there's barely any empty spaces on the pages, the words squeezed together in each line. considering the photo sandwiched between the two pages, she doesn't need to think twice of who those words are meant for. the answer to their deteriorating relationship has always been right in front of her eyes, how could she have missed it?

jaebum has known hyolyn almost all his life, way before he met her. he has never admitted it, but hyejin knows that hyolyn was his first love. it was obvious, with the way he looked at her as if she hung the moon and the stars. he looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing in the world. hyejin had always thought they would end up together, but she never expected for jaebum to confess and a few years later, propose to her instead.

but with the polaroid in her hand, she wonders if everything was what she thought. did jaebum truly love her? or is she just a replacement for hyolyn?

deep in thought, she doesn't hear the rustling of the keys, the swinging of the door, the footsteps approaching. suddenly, the notebook is yanked out of her hands, and she snaps her head up to the sight of a red-faced jaebum, his eyes cold and hard, jaw clenched tight.

"who said you could look?" his voice raised, anger obvious in his tone.

"jaebum--"

he roughly shoves the notebook into his bag before turning on his heels. she tries to catch up, chest heaving as she utters weakly, "jaebum, i'm sorry! i didn't mean to--"

jaebum doesn't cast another glance when he stomps out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

///

jaebum doesn't return home until the two days after the incident despite all her missed calls and ignored messages. he doesn't even speak a word, only brushing past her as if she doesn't exist. it's frustrating to be treated so coldly, but even when she tried to reach out to him, all he ever gives is a brief reply. the only long sentence he said in those two days were: "sungjin's getting married this sunday, and he's invited us."

sungjin's wedding is a small one -- only family and friends are invited. his own bandmates performed for him, and it's nothing less than a joyous occasion. everybody is having the best time of their lives. hyejin smiles and laughs along despite the ache in her heart. attending wedding invitations only drag her down to memory lane, to her own wedding day. jaebum had looked so ethereal that day, handsome in his suit, smile so wide and blinding that could rival the sun. as her gaze falls onto his face now, she wonders if he even remembers that day. seeing how he's all smiles around his own friends brings a pang of pain in her chest. especially so when hyejin spots hyolyn by his side with matching smiles. on the other hand, she's at the other side of the room, with her fellow friends.

"hyejin-ah!" a voice calls out to her. she turns her head to the direction of the voice.

"oh, younghyun-ah," she says like a greeting. appearance like a fox, but nothing like that, younghyun takes jaebum's empty seat. he places his elbows on the table, his chin resting on a palm. his hair is dyed pink with a dash of blue all over. it's been a long while since hyejin last saw the male. the last time she remembers, his hair was blonde.

"i see you're trying a new hair color," hyejin comments.

younghyun touches the tip of his bangs, smiling knowingly. "well, i'm still trying to find my color."

"sure, whatever. just don't go bald with all that bleaching."

this sends younghyun cackling. "thanks for your concern, hyejin-ah. it's very much appreciated." he presses a hand to his heart to emphasize it. "but you know, my hairstylist suggested purple. can you guess why?"

hyejin cocks an eyebrow, then shakes her head.

"she said it's because i look like a cat, and a cat's favorite color is purr-ple," he recalls.

now it's hyejin's turn to laugh. a poor joke, but a joke is still a joke.

"anyway, why are you alone?" he asks.

"jaebum's with his friends," she says, nodding over to where the said male is.

"and he left you out?" he questions, eyebrows raised.

"hey, that's a little mean." hyejin crosses her arms in disapproval but they both know she didn't take it seriously. "i wanted to chill here so he went there alone."

younghyun hums. "wow, you must getting old, huh?"

"hey!" hyejin retorts, incredulous. but they both crack up anyway.

"you wanna dance?" younghyun offers.

"gosh no, please. i'm old, remember?"

"come on, just a little sway isn't so bad!" he tries.

"i can't dance, you know that."

"neither can i! so let's just do some dumb moves together. at least we both look dumb together."

hyejin sighs. "fine."

they head to the dance floor where there are others twirling around happily. even sungjin and his bride are dancing happily, though hyejin thinks the bride is only laughing so hard at how the groom moves. younghyun starts bobbing to the music, dumb expressions plastered on his face. hyejin lets loose, allowing herself to relax and enjoy the moment. it's all fun and laughter until younghyun's smiles falter and the air turns cold. before hyejin can even open her mouth to ask, her back bumps into someone. a hand rests on her shoulder, and she doesn't need to turn around to know who it belongs to.

younghyun's eyes flick back to hyejin and she swears she sees guilt in them. he opens his mouth to say, "have fun!" before leaving hyejin alone with the newcomer.

a chill goes down her spine, but she braves herself to face the person.

"did you enjoy yourself?" jaebum asks, voice low.

she doesn't think before she answers. "yeah."

jaebum's face tightens and for some odd reason, it makes her proud to be able to extract such a reaction from him. still, fear overpowers. she certainly doesn't want an argument on their friend's joyous day. so she slides her hands to his chest. she leans in, and nearly purrs out, "but it's better with you now."

jaebum's jaw slacken, his hands now on her waist. his gaze softens, like the melting of an ice. hyejin supposes she should feel overwhelmed with the way he's looking at her, but she just can't shake off the feeling of it being faked. that it's all a game of pretense. that it's all a web of lies. she wants to confront him about what she saw in his notebook, but she can't bring herself to. she's afraid of the truth, afraid of the pain it'll bring her. it's already heartbreaking that their marriage is slowly falling apart, but if it truly comes to an end, she doubts she would be able to face the music.

hyejin drops her eyes, landing on his chest instead. as if there's a pull of a force, her hand reaches out for his chest, right on top of his beating heart. she presses her palm and feels the pulse through the layers of skin and dress shirt, its calm rhythm inducing both ache and peace in her.

is it still mine? she wants to ask. but a lump grows in her throat. so she leans in, rests her forehead on jaebum's shoulder.

"are you tired?" jaebum asks softly, nearly a whisper from their close proximity.

yes, she wants to say. that yes, i'm tired of this distance even though we're so close right now. but the answer she gives is a shake of a head. needless to say, she should savor this moment. it doesn't come easy anymore. they continue their slow dance that has turned into a mere sway with the tempo of the music. she shifts her position, effectively hugging him close, cheek to cheek. she brings a hand up to cup his nape, and her fingers dance in the hair at the baseline.

"if you're tired, we can sit down," jaebum says again.

she shakes her head slightly. "let's just stay like this for awhile," she responds. she shuts her eyes and takes in all of jaebum through her senses: the whiff of his cologne, the melody of his pulse in her ears, the warmth of his body coursing through her own.

///

for once, hyejin actually thought they had a chance at repairing their marriage. but when they head back home and the new week begins, it all goes back to square one. jaebum doesn't hold her close, doesn't talk any more than he always did. nothing changed.

hyejin doesn't even notice anything different until one night, when she woke up in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water. jaebum's fast asleep on the couch, still in his shirt and jeans, hair dyed from black to brunette. the only reason an idol changes their hairstyle is when they're releasing a new album. hyejin suspects jaebum will be releasing one soon, but he never told her about it. she only knew it officially from social media. she doesn't even confront jaebum about it, but rather, pretends as if she knows nothing.

as the day approaches, jaebum still doesn't speak a word about it. not even when it's the day itself. hyejin silently hopes that he would invite her to his showcase that night but he doesn't. he pretends that it's a normal day where he goes to the recording studio and do god knows what.

so when jaebum's new album is released that evening, it takes all of her courage to listen. the songs speak of heartbreaks, hopes for an everlasting love. it hits way close to home, nearly spot on. she cries. her heart aches at each song, at each line that resonates with her own relationship. does jaebum actually feel her? does jaebum finally understand her heart?

mindlessly, she scrolls through the comments, finding many with hearts and praises. but there are several comments that stand out.

omg is jaebum singing about hyolyn???

i wonder if he's singing about hyolyn...

jaebum probably made this album as a confession to hyolyn!!! i hope they date!!! TTTT

oh.

of course. how can she forget? jaebum is probably singing about another person, not her. what is she to him now anyway?

her heart sinks. if jaebum is truly singing about hyolyn, wishing and wanting to be with her, why won't he say so? if jaebum's heart has always been for hyolyn, why didn't he pick her? why did he pick hyejin? those toothy grins that he used to smile at her, those boisterous laughs that he used to give her, those sweet cuddles and kisses that he showered her with... what was the meaning of it? was it all a lie? an act? hyejin knows jaebum had taken acting classes back when he was a trainee at the entertainment company. has he been acting all these years? did she not know him at all from the start? did she never knew the real im jaebum?

it's getting hard to breathe. her chest feels heavy, and there's a pressure in her heart. she has heard stories of people dying from a heartbreak, and she briefly wonders if that'll happen to her too. maybe jaebum wouldn't even realize that she's lying dead on the bed. maybe he would think that she's in deep sleep. or maybe... he would be happy that she's gone from his life.

no, she scolds herself. jaebum wouldn't do that. he's not a cold person. he appears to be one but he's the warmest person she has ever met. no, jaebum wouldn't do any of this without a reason. she tries to comfort herself.

she tries to distract herself from any negative thoughts by scrolling through any updates from jaebum's showcase. one user uploaded a clip, captioned with omg!!! jaebum wrote the album for somebody!!!!! just who is this lucky girl??? i'm jealous TTTT

hyejin takes a deep breath as her thumb hovers over the video. it takes her a few more seconds before she musters up the courage to press the play button.

"in this album, each of the songs have their own story. the burning question is: is it from your own experience?" the interviewer asks. the fans cheer, curious with the answer.

jaebum doesn't answer straight away. he looks down onto the floor, stringing the words in his head. "for the first time," he begins, "i will acknowledge it. yes, the songs are based from my own experience."

the crowd coos.

jaebum continues, "the songs in this album are experiences that people could easily relate to. but this whole album was intended to be a message that i've always wanted to deliver but couldn't."

as if the interviewer could read minds, he asks, "and who is this person?"

jaebum stills. she can tell that he feels burdened by that question. it's not hard to guess that he's contemplating on how to answer.

"it's not something i would like to answer," jaebum says, earning a chorus of disappointed whines from the crowd. "but..." jaebum pauses, keeping everyone at the edge of their seat, including hyejin herself. "if i have to give a hint, it would be the person who has stayed by my side for so long. the one who I cannot let go. the one who I love the most."

hyejin lets go of a breath she didn't notice she was holding. her heart drops, the tears in her eyes no longer contained. she drops the phone, shutting it all off at once. what more is there to say when the answer is clear: it's hyolyn.

it has to be hyolyn. why else would jaebum not invite her to his own showcase? why else would they be so distant over thre years? why else would he keep a photo of the two of them with those three words scribbled all over the pages? why else?

jaebum doesn't love her anymore. jaebum never truly loved her. the basis of their marriage -- of their relationship -- was built on nothing but lies. hyejin is the fool that got played.

hyejin doesn't know what to think anymore. everything becomes a blur. memories that flash through her mind feels so unreal. everything just doesn't seem real anymore. she cries her heart out. tears dripping down like an endless rain, flooding her cheeks. she clasps both hands over her mouth, wanting to muffle the sobs even though there's no one else in the apartment. her knees are pulled to her chest, and the world just goes on, oblivious to her sadness.

she lets herself sink into sorrow, before sleep comes.

///

the wind blows across her face, her feet sinking into the sand, the seawater crashing onto the shore. she has never felt so peaceful before. she has never felt so happy before. arms snaking around her waist, then a press of a chest to her back. her eyes flutter open, and she tilts her head to look at the man behind. jaebum is already gazing back at her, eyes so warm and soft in the night.

"it feels like a dream," hyejin says as she leans back, her own arms wrapping around his.

"you're my dream," jaebum mutters to her ear before pressing a kiss on her shoulder. they stay wrapped in each other for as long as they could, before they decide to have a stroll along the beach with fingers intertwined.

"so," hyejin begins. "what's next?"

jaebum brings their intertwined fingers up, and turns so that his lips brush against her knuckles as they stroll. "a happy us."

but suddenly everything hollows out to darkness. jaebum is no longer with her, only the blackness. she calls out his name, panicking. then the clouds of darkness vanish like mists, light pouring in. hyejin squints at the sudden change of brightness, and she spots jaebum's form at a distance. relieved, she runs to him, still calling out his name.

another form -- all curves -- approaches the male, wrapping him in an embrace. hyejin frowns, though she doesn't stop approaching them. she increases her pace instead. just when she holds out her hand to reach for the male, the other form's face becomes visible in the brightness.

hyolyn.

"jaebum!" hyejin screams.

jaebum merely takes one glance at her, disinterest in his eyes, before he shifts his attention back to hyolyn. he slips his hand into hers, and with matching smiles, they turn their backs on hyejin and walk off.

darkness envelopes hyejin once more, and she's dragged away, alone.

///

hyejin's eyes snap open and she sits up, chest heaving, gasping for air. the room is still dark, not infiltrated by sunlight yet. glancing over at jaebum's side of the bed, it's still empty and untouched. hyejin buries her face into her hands, fingers tugging at the hairs along her forehead. she rubs her face and then cards her hair back before slipping out of the bed and out of the room.

the first thing she sees is jaebum dozing off on the couch again, donned in a hoodie and jeans. his head on the armrest, arms thrown over it, his legs dangling over the other end. slowly, her emotions from earlier flicker back to life. hyejin's chest starts to ache again, and it feels like her heart have been clenched tight. her feet takes her closer to the male. she drops to her knees, right where his chest is. it's painful to see him this close, yet feel so far away. hesitantly and timidly, she reaches her hand out for his face. hyejin pushes the strands of his hair away from his face so gently, afraid to wake him.

but even the lightest touch, jaebum stirs awake. she freezes when his eyes flutter open, and she can see how it goes from unfocused to surprise at the close proximity. hyejin resists the urge to tear up, as she mutters, "i love you."

jaebum blinks at her, seemingly dazed at the words. so she repeats it again, "i love you, jaebum." her fingers lightly touching his cheek.

jaebum blinks another time, and shoots her a small smile. "me too."

hyejin's heart sinks. she shouldn't have expected anything more. she had secretly hoped that he would say those words back, but of course he wouldn't. it's reserved for someone else. hyejin's eyes prick with pain and she knows, if she stays for another moment, it will all spill. so she retracts her hand as if the touch burns, and she clears her throat to wish him a good night's sleep as she scrambles to her feet.

but jaebum's fingers wrap around her wrist, pulling her back.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

she doesn't know if that question is even a genuine concern. she doesn't even turn around to face him. she believes it's better not to see his expression, in fear it'll hurt her even more. "it's nothing," she croaks.

"it wouldn't be nothing if you whimpered in your sleep," jaebum points out. she stiffens. he heard?

when hyejin didn't seem to respond, he continues, "you seemed to be in pain." jaebum tugs her back, just enough for him to peer into her face. "and you were saying my name too."

hyejin's eyes fleet over to his face. it's scrunched up in concern, eyebrows narrowed in a frown, eyes glistening in the dark like stars.

"i'm sorry," hyejin ends up saying. jaebum's frown deepens. "i'm sorry for everything. i'm sorry for not noticing earlier. i'm sorry that i didn't know that you were suffering so much because of me. i'm sorry that it took me so long to realize that you haven't been happy in a long time. that you're tired of this. that you're tired of us."

"what are you saying, hyejin-ah?" jaebum speaks. "i don't--"

her vision starts to cloud with tears. she presses on, "i'm sorry that i'm not good enough. i'm sorry that i'm not her."

"what are you talking about, hyejin-ah?"

"hyolyn," she says. it tastes bitter on her tongue. "i saw. that polaroid in your notebook. those words you wrote all over the pages." hyejin doesn't say what those three words were. he should know exactly what they are. "your new album. all of it was for her, wasn't it? she was your first love, wasn't she? no," she shakes her head, "she's your only love, isn't she? she has always been in your heart. it must have been hard on you all these years, having to endure a one-sided love."

"no--" jaebum tries to intercept but she cuts him.

"but fortunately for you, your first love story finally has its happy ending."

jaebum stands on his feet, hands fiercely gripping her shoulders. "no, that's not--"

hyejin tilts her head up to meet his eyes. she doesn't register the horror in jaebum's expression. "you told me once that i was your dream. but deep inside, your dream was never me, was it? i was just a pit stop for you to achieve your real dream." hyejin smiles painfully.

jaebum slides his hands up to the sides of her head, palms on her cheeks. "stop--"

"i'm sorry, jaebum, for not being hyolyn."

"no, wait--"

hyejin's eyes are glassy. "you just have to say it. say it and i'll go. i'll leave."

"stop it please-- don't say such things--" she hears jaebum's voice start to crack, and then, she feels his arms enveloping her body. his warm breath on her neck, liquid on her skin. she stands there, lost, helpless. her hands go to the back of his shirt, pulling at the fabric as if it's her life. she sobs into his chest.

until she becomes tired once more, and darkness takes her away again.

///

the second time hyejin wakes up, she nearly forgets her surroundings and the events that happened. she almost thought that it's a dream, waking up in jaebum's hold, their bodies pressed together on the couch, limbs tangled. but it's not a dream, seeing the tear-stained face of jaebum's. she shifts to break free, but it wakes jaebum too.

"don't--" he starts, voice heavy with sleep. "don't go."

hyejin stills, eyes meeting his.

"please," he softly says, eyes watering.

hyejin lies back down, facing the male in the cramped space. he traces her cheek with his free hand. and while she would have squealed at the touch back then, now, she just wonders if there's anything more to it. if jaebum feels anything.

she gulps a spit. "you don't have to force yourself," she says.

"i'm not," jaebum says like a whisper. he doesn't stop tracing her skin, and proceeds to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"will you listen to what i have to say?" he starts again.

there's sadness in his eyes, and as much as hyejin doesn't want to fall for the trick, she ends up nodding her head slightly.

jaebum lets out a sigh as if preparing himself. "i always thought it was because i was tired after my schedules, and so i didn't speak much when i came home. but it sounded so much like an excuse after you pointed it out. i didn't want to believe it was the truth, so i pretended like nothing's wrong. but everytime i'm in the company, i couldn't think of anything else but us. and i realized i couldn't even convey my thoughts to you anymore. i felt so awkward when it came to you. anything and everything i wrote in the notebook was meant for you. those words were supposed to be for you, with you in my thoughts. i made them into lyrics and all the songs in the album is meant for you, because i couldn't say it in words anymore. so i had to sing it out, in hopes you'd listen and understand my feelings."

"and this sounds stupid but," he continues, letting out another sigh, "i didn't invite you to the showcase because i was afraid i wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else but you. i was afraid i would be distracted by you and only look at you." hyejin sees how a blush spreads over his cheeks, and how he drops his gaze onto the material of the couch, as if it's more interesting.

"the photo of me and hyolyn doesn't mean anything. it's just a photo that we took because it was the last day of recording our collaborated song," he continues. "yes, it's true that she was my first love. but only that. you're my last." he flicks his eyes to hers. "i can't love anyone else as much as i love you."

hyejin gasps. it leaves her breathless, the way he confesses. it steals her breath away, and she can't focus on anything but those words. it echoes in her mind.

"i'm sorry to have hurt you all the while," jaebum says again. "i'll be better. i'll try harder."

"jaebum--"

he shifts closer, an arm circling around her body, pulling her into a hug. "so please don't... don't say you'll leave. i can fix this. i'll fix this."

"no, jaebum," hyejin says, pushing against his chest. those words seem to break the male, tears forming in his eyes. his face crumples, disappointment written all over. hyejin reaches for his eyes, sliding her fingers across the lids.

"we'll fix this. we'll fix us," she whispers.

jaebum's face smooths. he stares.

hyejin offers a small smile. "i'm sorry too. i shouldn't have--"

jaebum doesn't let her complete her sentence as he closes the gap and joins their lips. hyejin nearly gasps. it feels so good. it's been so long since they've been this close. his hand comes up to cradle her face and to press their lips tighter. hyejin's own hands goes to his chest, nails digging into the material of his shirt. the kiss is everything they failed to say aloud. it conveys every emotion from i'm sorry to i miss you to i love you.

they pull apart a few minutes later, lips all red and swollen, chest heaving.

jaebum leans their foreheads together, lips ghosting against hers.

"let's start anew."

#got7 #got7 jaebum #got7 im jaebum #got7 scenarios #got7 jaebum scenarios #got7 im jaebum scenarios #jaebum #im jaebum #im jaebum scenarios #jaebum scenarios

[ohmytheon]

There’s Something About Bakugou (3/4)

title: There’s Something About Bakugou

summary: After Bakugou is hit by a villain’s unknown quirk that produces some strange side effects, both Uraraka and Kirishima have a very interesting day trying to help him.

notes: That moment when you start shipping something as a joke and then it becomes very serious and you don’t know what happened. How did it end up like this? It was only a kiss.  Turns out I really like to write Uraraka and Kirishima. They’re both made of sunshine.

While waiting for the third party that would help defuse the lust bomb that Bakugou had become, Uraraka and Kirishima had tried to distract each other with smalltalk, but it was so difficult when there was an insanely horny Bakugou in the other room. They couldn’t avoid or ignore him, but they didn’t want to talk about it either. How do you not think about the fact that the guy you like wants to sleep with you and their best friend or you and their… favorite co-worker?

Now that she thought about it, Uraraka wasn’t quite sure what she was to Bakugou. She thought of them as friends, but Bakugou very rarely admitted to such things, even if he did have them.

There was also the fact that Kirishima had more or less admitted that, if he had been in Bakugou’s position right now, this whole thing would still be happening. It made Uraraka blush all over again just thinking about it, so she tried not to, but then she'd find herself thinking about him in his hero costume and that brought all sorts of other thoughts to the table.

Honestly, had she been hit by that lust quirk or had it rubbed off on her in some way?

She must have been in a daze again when Kirishima waved a hand in front of her, “Earth to Uraraka.” She jumped a little and snapped her eyes back to his. “You okay? Well, you know, besides the obvious.”

Uraraka painted a smile on her face. “Oh, yeah! I’m good.”

Back in the bedroom, Bakugou had gone silent again, but he’d spent the past twenty minutes kicking and banging against the ceiling and coming up with some pretty inventive things that he wanted to do, which had made it difficult for them to ignore the whole situation. Now that he was quiet, it should’ve been easier, but she couldn’t just pretend that they were simply hanging out in Bakugou’s living room for no reason.

“Hey, after the weird day we’ve had, I think we can be honest with each other,” Kirishima pointed out with a chuckle.

“You’re right,” Uraraka sighed. “I’m just…”

“Embarrassed?” Kirishima offered. “After what we just went through and established?” Uraraka floundered a little, but the nodded her head. This whole thing was embarrassing. How was she going to face Bakugou at work once the quirk wore off? She’d let him kiss her senseless, handcuffed him, and floated him to the ceiling. “Trust me. Nothing is going to faze me at this point.”

Playing with the pads of her fingers, Uraraka looked down at her feet. “Did you really mean it when you said…?” No, she shouldn’t even ask that question. What was the point? To torture each other more? To make things even more awkward? He clearly liked Bakugou. She was acting dumb. “You know what? Never mind. I’m being silly.”

“Did I mean it when I said that I’d be all over you if I’d been hit by that lust quirk?” Kirishima continued for her. She glanced at him for only a second and then bobbed her head side-to-side to let him know that he was on the right track. “Hell yeah I meant it. You were cute at school. Man, Kaminari had such a huge crush on you--”

“W-what?” Uraraka exclaimed.

Kirishima cringed a little, but he was still grinning. “Maybe don’t tell him I said that.”  She didn’t even know what to think of that, seeing as how she’d never known. Then again, she’d been so distracted by her crush on Deku and then school to become a hero that she hadn’t been the most observant when it came to herself. “But you’re pretty damn hot now.”

She snorted. “It’s okay if you’re just joking. I wouldn’t be upset.”

“I’m not joking!” Kirishima told her. “I’m being serious here.” He could tell that she didn’t believe him and it was frustrating him. “Okay, I was kind of joking at first because I didn’t know how you felt and I didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than you already were, but I’ll be honest. I really wasn’t.”

Uraraka shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “It’s just hard to take it seriously.”

“Why?” Kirishima sounded genuinely confused and looked it too as he gazed at her.

“Because, you know, you’re…” Uraraka waved a hand at him.

Kirishima looked down at himself. “You just pointed to all of me.”

“Yeah!” Uraraka exclaimed. “You’re like...all muscle-y and strong, handsome and kind, and stuff!”

A splash of pink covered Kirishima’s face, like he was blushing, but that was absurd. She couldn’t make Kirishima blush, not when she was just being honest. “Kind, huh? Didn’t know being kind was that big of a deal, seeing as how Bakugou isn’t known for being sweet.”

“You are,” Uraraka pointed out. “It’s one of the most attractive things about you -- besides looking like you could bench press a car.” This time Kirishima was the one to snort. “So it just seems impossible that you’d think that about me.”

Kirishima just looked at her. “Bakugou was right: you are weird.” She harrumphed and he grinned at her. “If I’d been hit by that lust quirk, you would’ve had to tie me up just the same to keep me from jumping you. Bakugou’s not the only one that’s noticed those thighs and butt.”

This whole situation was absurd. She didn’t know why she’d started this conversation. It wasn’t like her to bring up topics that would make someone say something that would stroke her ego. She didn’t go fishing for compliments. She didn’t go fishing for anything. She just stayed in her little bubble, pining and hoping that she wouldn’t always just be the cute or sweet friend and not doing anything about it.

Honestly, she was really tired of being like that.

With a swell of courage that she hadn’t thought herself capable of before, Uraraka stepped forward, cupped his Kirishima’s face, and kissed him straight on the lips. At first, he reacted about as well as she’d expected, clearly caught off guard, but then he responded enthusiastically, grabbing her by her hips and pushing her back against the fridge so hard that it rattled.

When they broke apart for air, Uraraka’s entire face burned red and she buried her face in her hands. “Oh my god! I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking and I just--” She was going to die of humiliation today.

“It’s okay,” Kirishima said, sounding a little breathless and bemused. “I think it’s clear I didn’t mind.”

“Please, don’t…” She peered at him in between her fingers. “Don’t think that I’m like…” Kirishima raised an eyebrow and she dropped her hands. “I let Bakugou kiss me and then I kissed you and I don’t--”

Kirishima pulled his hands from her hips and put them on her shoulders to steady her. “Breathe, Uraraka.” She did as she was told, taking a deep breath and staring back at him. As she did, the blush slowly left her cheeks. “We’re in a really tense and confusing situation.” He smiled at her. “Honestly, I feel better after that. The tension was getting so thick that I was beginning to go crazy.”

Uraraka gave him a tremulous smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Kirishima pat her on the cheek. “We’re good.”

Right then, there was a knock at the door and both of them startled so bad that they physically jumped away from each other, except Uraraka was up against the fridge and hit the back of her head. She muttered a swear that she’d learned from Bakugou last week under her breath and rubbed the back of her head while Kirishima made his way over to the door and opened it.

“Thank gods you’re here,” Kirishima greeted.

Deku stepped inside, looking distinctly confused. When he had asked for the address over the phone, it had occurred to Uraraka that he had never been inside Bakugou’s place. However, after a brief look around, he nodded his head, as if this was what he’d expected. It was his day off, so he was in regular clothes. She felt bad about calling him over here -- they’d interrupted one of the few times that Deku and Todoroki had off together -- but short of calling his mom (which neither Kirishima nor Uraraka could handle), Deku was their best option.

“So, uh, what’s going on?” Deku asked curiously. “You sounded frazzled on the phone.”

Uraraka and Kirishima looked at each other and then she stepped forward. “Long story short, Bakugou got hit with some sort lust quirk that makes him crazy around the people that he’s attracted to.”

“Oh.” Deku looked at them, his head swiveling back and forth. “Oh!” A nervous smile appeared on his face as both Uraraka and Kirishima tried to stare back at him with the straightest faces possible. They were not going to say it out loud. “That would explain those marks on your neck.” Uraraka tried to cover hers up again while Kirishima shook his head. The damage was done. “What do you need me here for then?”

“Every time we go near him, he loses his shit and basically tries to hump whoever is closest,” Kirishima said, which caused Uraraka to put her hands over her mouth to keep herself from making the world’s most awkward laugh. “We did some digging and it looks like the quirk is cancelled out when they’re around someone they feel…in the opposite way for.”

Deku nodded his head again. “You mean, someone Kacchan doesn’t like.”

“It sounds so mean when you say it like that,” Kirishima mumbled.

“It’s all good,” Deku said with a chuckle. “Kacchan and I will never be friends like normal people, but we can at least respect and work with each other these days.” He smiled brightly. “At least I can help him now, although I’m sure it will just anger him even more.”

“It’s either this or the hospital,” Uraraka said.

Taking off his jacket, Deku asked, “So where is he?”

“In the bedroom,” Kirishima said, pointing to the closed door on his left.

Before Deku could step inside and face Bakugou, Uraraka remembered something important. “Oh, wait!” Deku looked at her questioningly. “He’s kind of...handcuffed and floating on the ceiling right now. I don’t want to release my quirk if he’s not over the bed. He was moving around earlier.”

“I don’t even want to ask how you managed that,” Deku sighed. He pushed up his sleeves, opened the door, and stepped inside.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Bakugou roared upon seeing neither Kirishima nor Uraraka. “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, DEKU!”

Deku looked back at them and gave a thumbs up, saying, “You’re good,” and Uraraka released her quirk. She saw Bakugou collapse on the bed with a furious grunt. They briefly connected eyes and a fire scorched in his red eyes hot enough to make her take a step back, but then Deku kicked the door shut as Bakugou startled to scramble awkwardly off the bed. There was a heavy thump against the door that looked close to breaking it. “Put a chair under the knob for good measure!”

Kirishima did just that, jamming the back of a kitchen chair under the doorknob, and then jumped back when the door rattled again. “Sorry, Bakugou, it’s for your own good!”

“You better let me fucking out of here, Kirishima,” Bakugou threatened on the other side.

“No can do, bro.”

“Kacchan, just relax and take a breather,” Deku said calmly. “You’re dealing with the side effects of a quirk.”

“I don’t want you in here with me!” Bakugou snapped. “Where the hell is Uraraka?”

“She can’t come in here,” Deku told him. “Neither can Kirishima.”

A low growl from Bakugou was followed by a brief moment of silence where Uraraka stared at the door. She somehow knew that Bakugou was leaning against it right now. She could hear him panting from the effort. Everything in him must have been screaming to get to either her or Kirishima -- to find some sort of release with them. She hoped that the quirk was making things physically painful.

“You don’t understand,” Bakugou said, his voice strained as if his entire body was tensed up. “You don’t know what she feels like -- what she tastes like. I can’t just… I don’t just want her. I need her.”

The quirk must have been stronger with her because he’d had more of her. Well, he hadn’t had her, but they had been making out pretty hot and heavy there for a moment. He’d only had a brief taste of it with Kirishima. The quirk did seem activate by touch and he’d done a lot of touching with her. Oh boy, she was never going to live this down. None of it.

“I know,” Deku sighed, “but part of that is the quirk talking. Try to think clearly.”

It wasn’t all of the quirk, but some of it was at least. Maybe that was why this whole ordeal stung a little. Maybe he was attracted to her, but it might only be in passing or...as just a piece of ass. Maybe he didn’t really care about her at all. The more she thought about it, the more morose she got. It must’ve shown on her face because Kirishima put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her.

“I think it might be best if you two leave for a while,” Deku told them from the bedroom. “Get some take out or something.” He paused. “Maybe a drink or two. I feel like this is going to be a long night.”

“So I’m stuck here with just you?” Bakugou demanded.

“Look at it this way,” Deku replied. “If they leave, I can let you out of the bedroom.”

Bakugou groaned. “You are literally the last person I want to spend the night with right now.”

Already she could tell the difference in Bakugou’s behavior. He might’ve been pissesd, but he was calmer at least. He wasn’t screaming any obscenities or making comments about what he wanted to do to them. Uraraka wasn’t quite sure she was ever going to recover from Bakugou saying in detail how he wanted to go down on her. Even Kirishima had been stunned into silence. But now Bakugou was being more rational. He was responding instead of lashing out. Deku being in there with him was working.

Kirishima tugged on her wrist as he started for the front door. “Shoot us a text if you need anything. We’ll warn you when we’re on our way back.”

While Uraraka was reluctant to leave Bakugou (and she knew Kirishima felt the same way), it was for the best. They could do little more than tease Bakugou by being here right now. Besides, it would feel good to finally change out of her hero costume. It was much too tight. They could swing by her place and then pick up some food.

“He’ll be fine,” Kirishima insisted as they made their way down the stairs.

Uraraka let out a breath, but then nodded her head. Of course, she was worried about Bakugou, but she knew that he was in good hands with Deku, who was one of the few people that would be able to overpower Bakugou if he did try to break loose. She trusted Deku. Hopefully, by the morning, the quirk would be completely worn off with Deku around and Bakugou would be back to himself.

Instead of feeling any sort of relief though, Uraraka only felt more nervous. Bakugou back to normal was going to be really awkward after today. She had absolutely no idea how he was going to react to any of this.

#ochako uraraka #ejirou kirishima #katsuki bakugou #bnha #mha #izuku midoriya #kirikacchako #kirichako #kiribaku #kacchako #kirikacchako fic #SHIP ALL THE SHIPS #tododeku #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #the things of songs #what have i become

[outrealm-gates]

A sweet little something~ PerixLasow fic ((Wg))

Guards, maids and butlers alike in the estate keep their backs to the wall and their eyes off of their lady as she bounced with each sprightly step, her plumpened rear and thighs jiggling ever so slightly, her head bobbing back and forth to the rhythm of her stride.....Ever since her marriage Peri had been doing a good deal less killing and a good deal more cooking....and it showed a bit. She had the makings of a little tummy and her chest had received a little extra fluff....but her lower body certainly seemed a bit more accommodating of her newfound pounds.

A cart Laden with meats, sweets, soups and treats made by the candy sweet killer rolled smoothly down the halls of the estate her father had made for her when she married....an entire estate for her to play in, but where was her husband one might wonder? Still in bed lazing the day away? Off on diplomatic missions? Drinking with friends? No......Laslow was in the bedroom surely, but he was in store for his second lunch......Of the two of them Laslow had become absolutely obese.....

Now how could such an athletic, handsome young man become so fat? Well.....Peri certainly knows.....

Weeks before their wedding, their love confessed and the ring purchased and presented...Peri was enjoying a little ‘girl time’ with her good friend and recently reinstated Royal guard, Charlotte.

“Lazzy is such a cutey wutey~ Ohh but it makes my blood boil thinking he could be saying all those sweet things to other girls!”

“I mean hey....he seems to’ve learned his lesson now that he’s with you, and now that he has a golden girl to be with hopefully he won’t keep trying to bark up other trees. If not, I’ll help you throttle him.”

“Grrrr!!! I wanna throttle the girls he’s flirting with first! THEN Lazzy!”

“Has.....anyone actually caught him doing that since he proposed? Or are you just prepared for the worst?”

“W-Well nooooo....but......Its gonna be really really hard for me not to wanna go on a stabby spree, I can only imagine how hard it’ll be for Lazzy to stop flirting! Ho hummmm......”

“Well.....if you want a ‘weird old charlotte’ suggestion m’dear......maybe put a little authority on ‘im. Show him you mean business on that request.”

“Wha? Like....bonk him with a hammer until he stops?”

“Ugghh....NO Peri. Take charge, don’t be so passive on him if you’re worried. And if he gets defensive on it, remind him how hard it is for you to change stuff too, and that you’re trying your damndest.”

“Well I think he knows I wear the pants~ And the panties, and the armor and the hair ties!”

“Pff.....A guy like Laslow needs a woman who’ll take charge, so go ahead and show him he better listen. And there are plenty of ways to do that y’know. Maybe reward him for stuff, aren’t you amazing in the kitchen? Find out what he likes, reward him for keeping his trap shut around other dames. Man’s heart through his stomach and all that.”

And just like that Peri’s eyes lit up like magic.....and a devious shark toothed grin came to her face. “Thats......ssssssoooooo.....PERFECT! EeeeeeHehehehe!”

“U-Uhm.....you’re.....welcome?”

“I’m gonna reward Lazzy so much he won’t be able to flirt with other girls! I’ll be with him lots and making him so much food he’ll be too tubby to go out and flirt with other girls! Faithful tubby hubby plan is go! By char-char!!!<3″

“..........Y’know........I can’t tell if I’ve done Peri a service.....or Laslow a disservice.......Eh. Not my problem anymore~”

The night of their wedding was lovely, Laslow’s family absent due to....well....obvious issues.......and Peri’s father joining the ceremony and having a bit of a cautionary chat with his daughter’s husband......warning him of some of her less well known eccentric habits.... All in all, their wedding went off without a hitch. Laslow couldn’tve asked for a more wonderful bride, or ceremony....Peri’s hari done up in a cute curly ponytail so both her beautiful eyes were visible.....her emerald green eye and her more often than not hidden pale red eye.....Peri on the other hand was impatient to discuss some future things with her hubber wubber....and pulled him aside after the ceremony at the reception.

“Lazzy! Lazzy!”

“Ahah...yes yes Peri dearest, what’s still got you so excited?”

“Uhm......I-I was worried and all before our wedding about something you said you’d change....a-and uhm...So I came up with a plan! Charlotte helped! I’m gonna help you change bit by bit! “

“W-Wait....is this about.....Peri I would never lie to you, and I have invited any ladies out to tea since my proposal....swear on my own grave.....”

“I knowwww......but I said I’d stop wanting to kill people so much and thats REALLY REALLY HARD!!!! Especially when I see girls fawning over you and congratulation you! But Peri’s good and remembers the knife is for the meat and the cake~”

“Peri......well, how exactly did you plan on helping?”

“Thats the fuuuuuun part! I’m gonna be more assertive, Like Char Char said to be. BUT, I’m also gonna be super duper nice and reward your cute butt with delicious yummy extra food if you’re good!!!”

“Erhm....eheh....well, I suppose its hard to argue with that, your cooking is to die for after all....eheh....I just hope my waistline doesn’t get to erhm.....problematic.....”

“Huh? Why would your waist be a problem? If it got nice and big and squishy that’d be adorable! I’d play with it all day!”

Now....that struck Laslow as odd......and a pink tint soon decorated his cheeks......”Peri.....erhm....Sweetheart.....Are you saying you’d....’want’.....me to get fat?”

“Weeeeeeeeeeeell.......I really really like the thought of you being all tubby and chubby! And it works for my reward scheme! If you’re an extra good boy, then I won’t be worried AND I’ll have more husband! And you’ll get extra cuddles and kisses and yummy nummy food! Peri thinks its a win-win~ Lazzy-wazzy think so too?”

“E-Erhm.....w-wouldn’t.....people stare at me....i-if I suddenly started....p-packing on pounds?”

“Yep! But in a way I’d be fine with~ Liking big boys is rare, so I wouldn’t be so quick to jealousy if girls stared at your big tubber tushie~ And if you practice your dancing you’ll jiggle and wobble!!!! OOOOOOhhhh I’m gonna feed you so much wedding cake! Lets go lets go!” And with that, she grabbed him by the arm and took off toward the reception....Laslow very concerned about the future.....but Peri seemed ecstatic about it......And he loved seeing her happy......In the end he supposed that....well.....If he loved her enough to marry her, what was a bit of decadence and hedonism for her enjoyment? And like she said......she was changing quite a bit for him....he even noticed her taking Noble speech lessons more often with Xander.....often surprising him with bigger more erudite words out of nowhere......he resigned happily to his fattening fate in the end~

#fanfic #fire emblem #Laslow #Peri

[k-sunrael]

Regret Unfiltered

It had been but a day since the missive had reached Kaevia from abroad. The blonde haired man found himself in an unfamiliar tavern, though as he stepped up to the doors and noticed the insignia and name, he knew it was where he was told to seek. Chatter and typical tavern like sounds filled the air as he made his way through the small crowd that had gathered there to make his way to the bar in hopes of finding someone that would know where she was.

“The Lady is upstairs, sir, though I am not sure she wishes to be bothered.” The bartender offered in reply to his inquiry, though Vel’adir found himself simply smiling in return.

“She will want to see me, it is pre-arranged. Thank you, friend.” Was his retort before the fine but loosely dressed nobleman began his ascent up the stairs to find where the Priestess might be. Coming to the door he was sent toward, he gave it a gentle knock and pushed it open further as it stood slightly cracked.  “Kaevia…” He breathed softly to call forth her attention from whatever she might be doing.

The woman at the desk ceased to write whatever she had been scripting to parchment. Much of her desk was littered with ink wells and stampers, rolled wax and snippets of parchment that undoubtedly would become missives or notes for swift reminders.

Visitors weren’t uncommon. After all that was the entire purpose of the bar itself was to provide a locale for people looking for sellswords and a safe haven for those swords to find rest. A hole in the wall without the confines of city laws. Here, they had their own set of rules and code which all seemed to respect, even Kaevia herself was not above the expectations.

The quill paused and in that moment her fingers pinched it tighter. The subtle glow of the light in the room might have made his face a tad difficult to make out until he drew closer. However, the Priestess was smart. She didn’t need a face to know his voice. The woman could have been blind for all of her days and knew exactly who beckoned her. Chance be damned…

“Vel’adir..”She finally rested the feather along the desk and stood, gracefully she balanced herself at the tip of her fingers which kissed the top of her desk, “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. It has been quite a while, hasn’t it?” she clipped her words with the question, a curious gaze looking over his person and choice of attire which of course was a little different for him than what she was use to. Then again, it had been half a year or more since they had seen one another. A lot could happen in a short amount of time, after all.

For a moment, as she turned to finally face him, he found himself in a blissful silence that allowed his gaze to look her over with such care. He scoffed a chuckle, his hands pinching at the white linen of his shirt. “I found it much more comfortable at seas and it has rather grown on me.” He admitted before taking yet another few steps closer to her.

The glow and gleam of her eyes in the dimly lit room reminded him of just how near perfect he had found her to be, feeling as if he could always find his way back to her no matter where the world would take him. He could see the stars through her gaze, feel the wind’s breeze with her touch, and know home in his heart. But as much as his being urged to swoop her up then and there, he refrained as it had, in fact, been quite a while as he had left her. “It seems the messenger moved a bit slower than I had intended, allowing us to make further passage home before you actually received my package. Speaking of, I hope you liked it?” He asked, his voice ever sincere, one that almost held a nervousness to it but knowing him he was still calm and collected despite a world of history between two beings.

“As it the way of it.” Kaevia added in response to the speed of which messages often met their recipients.

With careful consideration she adjusting the papers on her desk and casually stuffed them under a paperweight to make along to the front of the desk to ensure a more familiar approach as the Eventide’s had always been close friends of the Sun’raels; t’was better not to impose otherwise.

She dove a hand down into the neck of her jacket and pulled up the pearl and shell at the very end of her chain, “It is lovely and thank you for thinking of me during the moment. I’ll treasure it as I have with all your other gifts. Pearls are a favorite.” she afforded the trinket a fond glance before tucking back into the crevice of material, “So what brings you back here and do you plan on staying for long?” She bobbed her chin in his direction, “The white is suiting, looks far more comfortable.”

His features and entire demeanor seemed to ease as she showed off the trinket, pleased that she had accepted the gift just as he had hoped. “I am glad you like it. I wasn’t sure if- “ With a last moment decision, he shook his head and chose not to finish the sentence. His sandy blonde hair fell loosely over his eyes as he looked down again at his attire. The man seemed to return somewhat different all together, but in a good way. It was as if he had finally found his true self and not one that had been thrust upon him in the way of ‘duty’ and ‘responsibility’.

“You think? It really is easier to handle wearing at long lengths than the stuffy and over exaggerated attire that I typically adorn, and even more the armor…” His gaze fell briefly as his fingertips tapped along the side of his thigh.

“Much of the same with robes.” She chuckled, sharing her thoughts to the matter of attire.

“Kaevia….I…” He began, inhaling deeply before finally lifting his face to look at her which would still be lower than his typical visage. His jaw clenched as it was obvious of an inner struggle that waged in his mind. The moment the decision had been made it was noticeable as he bridged the gap between them with gentle movements, his right hand coming to rest upon her cheek. It was as if he was reliving a moment of their past all over again as he leaned down to place his lips just on the edge of hers instead of forcing a full fledged kiss on her. “I’ve missed you.” He breathed, his words and tone holding the sincerity that could very rarely be rivaled by another.

She was listening – as always. Respect had never left her and while in the moment of chatting and watching him fuss about various parts of himself in a new found flavor, she found her breath pinched just as fast as he had arrived when his touch found her, even more so whispered words and his closeness.

Damn him.

Gently the Priestess’s eyes flicked up at Vel’adir while her form remained completely still against the desk and the lack of space between she and the Eventide, “I’ve missed you though we both know how this ends. It’s never been in our deck, Vel.” her words a low whisper while without much warning her fingertips made a canter along the side of his hand by his side, “You’re one of the few familiar things I remember and keep close. One of the few that continue to have hold over me and yet I know we do nothing but burn one another.” her eyes scanned his mien, feeling his breath. There were no more words or questions on her behalf before her head turned, raven chopped locks found the back of his hand and already, willingly her lips against his to what ushered a slightly more forceful dip towards his own.

He afforded her a smile even as her bitter words came. There were very few expectations held when he made the choice to visit her, knowing that when he sided with Elenaris over her that it would develop a sort of void between them in his absence. Did it hurt? Of course it did, but even from the beginning, back when the two hardly cared one bit for the other, all he wanted was her happiness and wellbeing.

With a single breath, one that shook slightly as her touch fell upon  his own, he attempted to give a simple response but what he was met with further was a surprise. His better self would have stopped her, only for the simple reason of he knew that she likely wasn’t ready for something like this. But his selfishly in love self took over as his free arm wrapped around her waist to slightly aid in their height difference and he fed into her eager kiss with his own. He would not let her go until she asked for it, even as he would eventually break away to rest his forehead gently against her own so he might speak. “You don’t have to…I know I’ve hurt you, again…”

Furniture be damned too, as her extremities would touch upon whatever parts of the desk their space allowed and finally her hands clasped to either sides of his face when he sought to place his forehead along her own, “You speak as if though you were the only one to ever do so. Yes, there were times you made your choice but I never held it against you. We all do what we need to when moments call for it.”

Kaevia had steadied herself at his level so long as he afforded her his hold, “No one ever said you had to choose. No one said you couldn’t have it all.” closing her eyes she leaned in to where her nose trailed along Vel’adir’s cheek. This entire song and dance was familiar, something they found themselves waltzing to many times over.

A steady wave of catch and release, “How is the ship treating you?” She asked. Perhaps a terrible time to really just ask about the vessel but she had to know. Afterall, it was the last token of her affections she had left him with.

Holding her close brought him the safety he had long sought after, a feeling he likely only had with her and it was something of a surprise that had snuck up on them both after so many years. He breathed in that familiar and comforting scent, one of fresh flowers that now had the underlying tones of bourbon which brought a soft chuckle from the knight. His almost protective grip around her waist remained even as she seemed to prop herself up against the desk at her back. “It is all I could ever dream of and more… I should have always been a sailor.”

The hand that rested against her cheek slowly traced down her jawline to stop just at her chin so that his thumb and forefinger gently lifted her gaze up to him. “I still hope you will find time to join me on it one day? We could travel to anywhere you wish.” He cooed quietly as his nose nudged her own which spurred a small chuckle from the Priestess.

“Perhaps.” she mused.

Finally she broke the silence that rested between the two for as long as Kaevia allowed, “ I’ll sail with you and you can show me your passion so long as you stay long enough to learn mine.” Her smile was fond and far from relenting as her forehead once more met Vel’adir’s, “The bar can be cozy, the people can be an acquired taste but thankfully you look decently fine enough to mingle with them if you ever dared.” She teased with a gentle tuck of the collar of his loose shirt, “Consider staying with me for a few hours and sample the drinks? At the very least…” her nose trailed his ear that was closest to her, “ –stay for anything.”

Vel’adir found himself chuckling deeply, a sound that rose from his chest in small shakes of his body. “You have a deal, little dove.”  There was a brief pause before he was overcome with a grin. “I’m not sure that nickname is too suitable for you anymore, you are far from little… your wings spread further than most.” His compliment was fleeting as he leaned into the words she breathed into his ear. “I will stay, for you.” The words were blunt as he shifted just enough to meet his lips with her own yet again. She could introduce him to the others in due time, sample the liquors and wine, but for now he simply wanted to enjoy her being with him again.

“It’s not.” The Priestess quipped after a stolen kiss, “Most people end up staying because they wish to, time will tell.” She added and her hands lowered to unbutton the front of his shirt, one plying under his arm to wave and add a small shove to the door in the distance to close it from those who would wander so close to their conversation – or worse, get a little too big for their britches in taking a gander.

[[ Collab writing between myself and @veladireventide / @elenariseventide ]]

#collab writing #kaevia #vel'adir #these two and so much of a past it's heartbreaking t.t #sorrynotsorry

[milkyytae]

Just Friends~Part 10 [FINAL]

(gif isn’t mine credit to owner) 

The end of Just Friends. 

Ouch, already, but it was time, thank you for reading this series and supporting it. 

I am off for more adventures with different stories you are welcome to read ;) 

Thank you for reading :) 

-3 912 words 

fluff/smut 

~A dinner date with Jungkook~

prologue , part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

There I was on Jungkook’s couch eating pizza while watching tv, just like we used to. I was wearing one of his giant sweaters and my panties as I was sat beside him legs crossed and our thighs touching. We had just fucked, it was nothing like what had happened the last few times, this time the anger and frustration had been replaced by something else. It all felt very intimate. The gaze of his eyes through mine while he fucked me. The soft touch of his fingers to soothe the sore skin he had sucked on. His muffled moans in my neck as his length made its way inside of me. I had finally been reunited with the Kookie I used to know. After our passionate sex we had just laid there without a word. Our sweaty bodies on top of one another, he had never been so handsome. His hair was all over the place and fell before his blissful eyes as he recovered from the frenzy we had both been plunged into. His bare back rose and descended with every heavy breath and I held him scared that he might leave me again. I didn’t know what we had gotten ourselves into but I didn’t care anymore. So long as I was with him I was happy. I had spent too much time away from him to think about it. We both sat there in still half naked and I wasn’t really paying attention the movie we had put on, all I could focus on was his toned chest and pretty face. The movie was crap anyways but that was what was funny about it. Jungkook couldn’t stop smiling at how stupid the whole thing was and my heart melted on the spot. God I had missed him. The movie went on and it was late now. I was tired today had been a long day. I had just learned what actually had happened and had makeup sex with Jungkook which was probably the best sex of my life. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t believe what Yugyeom had done. I had become attached to him but after what he had done to Jungkook I couldn’t see myself hanging out with him anymore. He had lied to me about all of this and he had hurt my Kookie which I never tolerated from anyone. I had a couple of friends who had hurt him and said mean things about him and those were the last things they ever did to him. I protected Kookie since the very first moment and knowing that all of this had happened under my eyes without me even noticing hurt me. As I thought about all of this I was slowly sliding from Jungkook’s shoulder to his leg and before I knew it my head was resting on his lap and his hand was stroking my hair.

“Kookie?” I called and realised just how long it had been since last time I called him that. It felt good to say that name again. He hummed in response and turned his attention to me.

“I’m sorry..” I sighed.

He looked confused.

“About what?”

“I’m sorry I let Yugyeom hurt you..” I hid my face in the bottom of his toned stomach. I never admitted I was wrong to him. There always was a type of competitivity between us and we only ever swallowed back our pride on rare occasions. He scanned my face and his look suddenly went serious.

“It was my fault don’t be stupid.” he muttered as he tucked my hair behind my ear. These small but affectionate gestures were turning me to mush and it was hard for me to think clearly.

“I still feel dumb though…” I mumbled.

He bent down and pressed a delicate kiss on my temple and I knew I was forgiven. My grip around his waist tightened I never wanted to let go of him again.

Soon enough I had fallen asleep on his lap and he was lifting me in his strong arms and laid me down in a soft bed. It woke me from my sleep but my eyes stayed shut when I peeked to see where I was I saw Jungkook getting undressed and walk to the bathroom. The shower began to run and I looked at where I was lying. I was in his bed again, the one where I had slept next to him unknowingly. I closed back my eyes and dozed off happy that he put me in his bed and not somewhere else. After a while, I heard him come into the room and a lump crashed by my side and crept under the sheets. His warm arms wrapped around my waist as he pulled my body against his. I smiled to myself, this would be a good night.

The next morning I woke up to see his two brown eyes staring at me and I grinned “Oh my god you creep!” I laughed.

“You see how it feels now?!”

I blushed at the memory of last time when he had caught me staring at him.

“Forget that ever happened ok?!” I backfired with a smile.

We were ourselves around each other again I had missed the teasing. He got up and said he would prepare breakfast and went out of the room after saying “By the way take a shower you STINK!” with a chuckle.

I got up slowly and showered even though I was tempted not to after how he bossed me around but he was right I did stink.

When we had breakfast it was quite silent. I was sipping on my orange juice and I wondered what all of this meant. Were we a thing now? Or was what happened yesterday a one-time thing? My heart clenched at the idea I hoped that maybe my romantic soul would be settled if by some miracle our feelings were mutual. I was probably setting my hopes too high once again.

“Rose, what are we?” he asked out of the blue.

“Huh?” I asked my mouth full of cereal.

“I mean what was last night all about?”  

Oh, so he was wondering as well. Maybe I wasn’t that crazy.

“I don’t know. What do you want it to be?” I probed hoping that maybe he would declare his undeniable love for me. I was a hopeless romantic and I hated it.

“I’m not really sure..” he muttered and his gaze seemed to leave the face of the earth as he lost himself in his thoughts.

I sighed, of course, it wasn’t the answer I wished it had been but at least I hadn’t been rejected. Yet.

“Rose?”

I gave him a nod signaling that he had my attention as I watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat with nervousness.

“Why don’t we go out tonight?”

I choked. Was he asking me on a date? These were the words I had wanted to hear from him in a long time and I wasn’t expecting it to happen now.

“Go out?” I asked. I needed clarifications, what did he mean?

“Ugh..don’t make this harder than it already is!” he whined. But the look on my face told him he was not getting away with this.

“I mean go out..such as going out together… on a..date? maybe? if you want to?” he rubbed his neck anxious about my answer. Little did he know that he had made me the happiest woman alive. After all this time these words were all that I could ever ask for. I stopped myself from jumping around and screaming from excitement and tried to limit my happiness to a simple nod and smile but I was sure I failed when I saw the amused look on his face. Was I really that obvious? Whatever. I didn’t care. I was going on a date with Jeon Jungkook. I had only ever dreamed about it and it was actually happening. I asked still trying to remain calm “Where do you want to go out?”

“That’s a surprise.” he said smugly with a wink and I cried out of cringe but I was internally exploding with joy.

Later that morning I headed out we both had work to do but we agreed that he would come and pick me up at 9 pm “Dress up.” he said before I left with a big bunny smile.

I left the house and went back to the coffee shop I was at yesterday. I had to forget about tonight for a while and focus of the papers I had to send Jinyoung before tonight.

I sat down in the corner comfortably with my latte, I was in the mood for a change of bitter black coffee.

I tried to focus but all I could think about was Jungkook. He was intoxicating my mind and I loved it.

That night I arrived home in a rush, he would pick me up at 9 pm. I needed my time to look my best. Tonight was pampering night.

I washed and took about an hour to pick the perfect outfit. After trying on too many ones I chose to stick to a classic black dress nothing could go wrong with that. It was a dress that fitted my shape perfectly, I felt good in it.

I was doing the final touches and at 9 pm on the dot I heard a knock and the doorknob wobbling. He was there.

“Rose?”

My stomach was filled with butterflies as I heard his shy voice. I tried not to run to the front door to keep a minimum of dignity. When I got to the entrance he was waiting and fiddling with some stuff I had left lying around, he hadn’t seen me yet. He was wearing a beautiful black tuxedo embroidered in silver, his hair combed in a way that I could see his forehead and a small smile was traced on his face. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the sight, he was handsome.

“Hey, what is this weird thi..” he stopped when his gaze finally turned to mine, I approached his slightly embarrassed by the look he was giving me. I looked at my feet, he was gawking by now. He finally snapped out of it, and a smug grin drew on his face. His hand came up to m cheek and he lifted my face “You look beautiful” he whispered and he gave me a small kiss on the lips. This simple contact was enough for me to want more and I unconsciously grabbed his arm, he chuckled “Not right now baby.”

I hated when he got so cocky, but in some respect it actually turned me on and I hated that even more. He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me outside.

When we arrived at the restaurant a young man came and opened the door, Jungkook led me a hand as I tried to graciously step out of his car. He gave the keys to the person in such a manly manner that my heart fluttered. He muttered something to him, but I was so nervous I didn’t pay attention. I never thought that this day would come and now that it has I felt much more anxious than I wished I would be. I didn’t want this to mess up again, we had already blew it one too many times. This was our chance to do something good, something that might be worthwhile for the both of us.

My heart pounded in my chest as I inhaled to calm down. His fingers were wrapped around mine while he took me over to our seating. We both sat down on the terrasse on the roof, the fresh night air helped me relax a bit.

“Are you alright?” he inquired a slightly worried look bore across his face as he sat down in front of me.

“Yes.” I snapped myself together. “I’m fine” This was a moment I was supposed to enjoy and I was not going to let my anxiety ruin the moment for the both of us.

He smiled softly probably seeing right through me. We were in a busy part of the city but I could only hear muffled sounds of the lively place, lights emerged from below the terrasse. His eyes sparkled as he looked at me, it was like being in a dream.  

The waiter brought us our drinks and he finally addressed me a few more words. We engaged in a conversation like one we would have before, but this time touches and stares were exchanged. His hand would often be on mine with his thumb circling upon my skin and I would be lying if I said I didn’t love every second of it.

He talked to me about his work, something he would rarely do and I appreciated that he was letting me in that portion of his life. We chatted non-stop, it had been so long since we had talked like this, we were catching up on all the time we had lost.

“So… What is all this then?” I asked out of nowhere.

He sighed “I knew that question was coming but honestly I don’t know the answer either.”

He took my hand once again and leaned forward with a smile, “But I know I want to try. I want to try being happy with you.”

I squeezed his hand, “Me too.”

“I would lean in and kiss you right now but this giant table is in the way.” he chuckled.

“You can do that later..” I winked smugly making his bunny smile appear. I had missed making him laugh.

Later that night I found myself sat by myself waiting for him to come back from the restroom. I let out a sigh full of relief, it had been going well so far. He came back but he looked somewhat stressed.

“What’s the matter?” I asked right away.

“Nothing don’t worry.” he tried to convince me but it didn’t work. Something was wrong and he was pushing me out of it again, but I let it go. I didn’t want to get into an argument here, this wasn’t the moment.

We took off from where we had left the conversation but he looked distracted. I didn’t know what to do. Something was bothering him and I couldn’t do anything about it.

Then a look of panic appeared on his face, I turned around to see what he had seen. It was Yugyeom with someone wrapped around his arm. He had seen us, and left the person before he started walking over to us. This could not be happening, not when everything was going so well.

He arrived in front of us and didn’t even look at Jungkook, “Rose, you know you shouldn’t be here with him right?”

My mind blew up. How could he say that after what he had done? He was the one who had torn us apart. He had no right to tell me what to do, after lying to me, after fucking Jungkook’s girlfriend and in the same blow our relationship.

I tried not to yell at him right then and there, Jungkook was slumped back in his chair waiting for what I was going to say. He probably believed what Yugyeom said.  

“I don’t think I ever asked for your opinion Yugyeom. I don’t think I ever even asked you to talk to me. So if you don’t mind could you go and fuck off over there?” I nodded over to where his partner was waiting. He better jog off right away or I would explode right in his face. Jungkook was still sat back in his chair nibbling on his fingers nervously.

Yugyeom stared at me puzzled “Why are you being like this? You know I only want to help you?”

“Yugyeom. Please leave.”

He gave one last bad look at Jungkook and left.

We were left in silence, I could feel how uncomfortable Jungkook was but I was still boiling in too much anger to try and do something about it.

Suddenly he muttered something hardly audible “He’s right you know.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t be here with me, not after what I’ve done.”

“Kookie… you didn’t do anything.”

“You should go with him..” and with those few words he got up and left the table.

Before I knew it my feet were taking me down the stairs and through the parking lot as I tried my best to catch up with him in my high heels. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t leave me here not now. We were finally getting somewhere and I wouldn’t let Yugyeom ruin it again. I couldn’t allow our last chance to blow to bits. I was finally behind him and I caught his sleeve pulling him to look at me. His eyes were red, he was on the verge of tears.

“Jungkook, Don’t do this.” I breathed. I had to change this turn of events. “ Don’t leave me, especially not to Yugyeom.”

“You deserve better..” he tried shaking off my grip from his sleeve but I wouldn’t let go.

“Yugyeom hurt me more than you ever will. Jungkook I can’t let you go, not now.”

He didn’t answer and just stared at me blankly. So I continued this was my only chance to convince him to stay.

“I need you Jungkook. I know this sounds cheesy but I don’t know what I’d do without you. Please.”

I stepped forward and placed my hand on his cheek wiping away the small tear rolling down it.

“Are you sure you want this?” he mumbled his lips now grazing mine.

“Yes.”

Our lips were connected within a second, the taste of his mouth was enough to send shivers down my spine.

His hands slid to my waist and he pulled me into his frame. We were now making out against his car, slowly and softly taking in every second of it.

I fumbled for the door handle and he smiled at my struggle. I needed him right now. I needed him to know how much I loved him. The door eventually opened and we both stumbled inside the leather interior in a rush. His hands were all over me and mine all over him. The tugging on the hair and the biting on the lips just proved how much we were hungry for each other. He threw off his jacket his chest rising and descending with his heavy breaths. His hand on my waist descended down between my legs and to his surprise, I was already soaking wet. His fingers rubbed against the silk fabric of my underwear and I squeezed my thighs together. My fingers ran across his toned chest and I could feel his muscles tense when I started sucking on the soft spot in the crook of his neck. He smelled like home, like the man I loved and I would never be able to get enough of it. He pushed the silk away from my core and was now caressing my folds in a regular motion that made me moan his name.

“You’re all I ever wanted..” I whispered against his neck.

He answered with the plunge of his fingers within my walls “So are you babe.”

I gasped not expecting the sudden contact. He pushed me backward, and was now towering over me in the backseat of his car, in the middle of a parking lot. I never thought I would be one to do such things but right now I didn’t care.

His long fingers were slowly pumping inside of me, and my juices were pooling down and dripping along my thighs. I whimpered powerless under his touch as he whispered sweet nothings in between burning kisses.

He went faster with every breath and I arched my back into him, I needed more of him.

“Jungkook..” I implored.

My hands descended from around his neck to the bulge that had significantly grown in his trousers and I cupped his hard length.

“That must hurt..” I muttered while I pressed his erection stuck underneath the cloth of his pants and he groaned in response.

I started to unbuckle his belt but the fast movements he was making and the sound of my fluids were distracting me.  At last, his length sprung free and I could not help myself but admire it. He was so attractive with his tip lying on his stomach and I grabbed it, giving him the same treatment he was giving me. We were soon a panting and sweaty mess of limbs getting each other off. I was close, my walls were clenching on his fingers making it hard for him to move. Jungkook was as well I wanted to push help him reach his high so I cupped his balls but he pushed my hands away.

“Don’t I want to cum inside you..”

I stopped and stared at him.

“If you’re okay with it of course.” he added quickly.

“If you’re clean I’m more than fine with that.” I smiled.

“I am. You?”

I nodded and that was enough for him to remove his fingers from inside of me and spread my thighs as wide as the small space of the car would let him.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” he groaned at the sight of my throbbing pit.

He kneeled in between my legs and positioned himself before my entrance. Soon he pushed his length inside of me and I moaned finally feeling him. His gaze wouldn’t let go of mine and we exchanged soft kisses. He let me adjust to his size that gave me just the right stretch.

His hips started to rock back and forth sending himself a bit further inside of me each and every time. The friction was sending waves of pleasure through my veins. Then with one slam he hit the spot that from the moan that tumbled from my lips would be the one to send me over the edge. He smirked and started to hit the spot repeatedly well determined to make me come.

“Come on baby…” he whispered his lips brushing against my ear.

I shuddered “Keep going Jungkook…ah..”

The faster he went the more he too could feel the orgasm crashing upon him. By the noises of liquids being stirred around I could tell that I had ruined the backseat of his car with my fluids, but right now it didn’t really matter.

This was the moment, we both hit our highs with the last rapid and deep thrusts of him inside me. His velvet liquid spilling inside of my walls, every drop being soaked in. The trails of fire pooled down to my pit and left among the juices, sparks of the warmth tingled across my skin when Jungkook collapsed on me with a sigh.

“I love you.” he mumbled. I tensed up, did those words really fall from his lips?

He looked up at me as if he realised what he had said, embarrassment and fear written all over his face. I threw myself onto his bruised lips. He loved me. My soul was filled with an indescribable feeling, as if an empty spot in me was finally filled. He pushed my face away, “Does that mean you love me too?” he asked.

I chuckled my hands tangled in his sweaty hair, “Yes you dumbass, I love you.”

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