#And probably feels so relieved that the wall in their relationship was something out of their control

[chancloud8]

CHAPTER 1

series masterlist

Pairing: OT8 x reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Tags: Intro, bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader

Summary: Meeting your new bodyguards doesn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped..

‘I don’t need a group of bodyguards,’ you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. 

Your manager Yoona doesn’t even look at you anymore and you fight the urge to stamp your feet like a little child to get her attention. You won’t stoop that low though, so instead you place your hands on your hips and glare at the woman who’s been by your side since you debuted about two years ago. 

‘We’re not having this discussion again, y/n,’ Yoona says, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen. ‘Your popularity is growing by the day, you’ve received multiple death threats in the last few months and in case you forgot, last week someone tried to break into your home.’ 

Your shoulders deflate and your hands fall down beside your body. You can’t really argue with that, but you’ve grown so accustomed to having Faris at your side as your one and only bodyguard, that the thought of eight men taking his place makes you shiver. Who the hell needed eight freaking bodyguards? You weren’t a princess for fuck’s sake. 

Yoona finally looks at you then. ‘It’s very important to us to keep you safe, darling. I know it will be an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it.’ 

‘But eight?’ you argue, trying once more. ‘Do I really need eight men following my every move?’ 

‘That’s why we’re placing some of them around you with other jobs as well, kind of like undercover bodyguards,’ Yoona smiles at you like that makes it any better. 

You slump down in the chair across from Yoona and frown at her. What could bodyguards possibly go undercover as in your team? Woman, sure, no problem, but a muscled man? They’d stand out immediately. 

‘What do you mean?’ you ask carefully, not sure if you even want to know. 

‘They all have multiple skill sets, but we decided on adding three of them as your dancers and one will probably step in as a personal assistant of sorts,’ Yoona explains, her eyes once more on her phone screen. 

‘Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I don’t even need new dancers? We’re not firing anyone are we?’ 

You were perfectly happy with your team as it was and it would kill you to let any of them go because Yoona decided you needed eight freaking men to watch you. 

Yoona sighed and put down her phone. ‘We’re not firing anyone, but Dohyun is still recovering from his injury and Ju-won has asked for a few months off to visit his family. As for why, it will allow them to be around you more casually.’ 

Damnit. That actually made sense. 

‘And you’re sure they can dance?’ you ask, already knowing the answer. Yoona would never suggest something like this if they couldn’t. 

‘Yes, y/n, they can dance. I think you’ll be impressed actually.’ 

That makes you curious. Yoona isn’t easily impressed, so if she thinks you’ll approve, they must be good. Maybe you should give them a chance, or just be such a brat they run away screaming. 

‘Fine,’ you sigh. ‘When will I meet them?’ 

Yoona looks at her watch and your eyes widen at the movement. She wouldn’t do this to you, would she? 

‘They’ll be here in an hour to meet you,’ Yoona says and you let out a relieved breath. ‘You better be back here by then or I will let one of them drag you here by your ear.’ 

‘Bossy much,’ you whisper, but you don’t really mean it. You luckily have a very good relationship with your manager and even though she drives you up a wall sometimes, you know she has your best interest at heart. 

Yoona rolls her eyes at you and waves her hand at the door. ‘Go be bratty somewhere else, I’ll see you in an hour.’ 

You bark out a laugh and jump up from the chair. ‘As you wish, my Queen,’ you say, doing a little courtesy. 

Your current bodyguard Faris is waiting for you in the hallway, a smile on his handsome face as he spots you. 

‘Good talk?’ he asks, following one step behind you. 

‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ you ask, glaring at him over your shoulder. 

‘I’m the one who recommended them actually,’ Faris says and only his quick reflexes stop him from walking straight into your back as you stop walking immediately at his words. 

‘What?’ you turn around to frown at him. ‘Why would you do that to me?’ 

Faris raises his eyebrows and stares down at you with a knowing look, his arms crossing over his chest. 

‘Fine,’ you roll your eyes at him. ‘I know why, Yoona was so kind to remind me, but I still don’t get why it has to be eight.’ 

‘It might seem excessive to you Nabi,’ Faris says, addressing you with your stage name which he knows usually softens you. ‘But you don’t see all that we see and trust me when I say that once you’re on tour, you’ll be happy to have them by your side. It gets crazy out there.’ 

‘I know that, but undercover bodyguards?’ you make a face. ‘I’m not royalty.’ 

Faris chuckles and with a gentle push on your shoulder, he guides you further through the hallway and towards the studio you were working at before Yoona called you to her office. It was one of the things you really liked about your agency. Nearly everything you needed was in the same building. 

‘You may as well be and I trust Chan and his guys to keep you safe,’ Faris says as he holds a door open for you. 

‘So you really know them?’ you ask, sitting down at the desk you were working at before. Your laptop is still open on the editing program you work with and there are multiple notebooks, paper coffee cups and empty candy wrappers spread all around it. ‘Did you work with them before?’ 

‘I trained 3RACHA actually,’ Faris nods. ‘Chan and I had multiple gigs together after that and I’ve only heard good things about the others as well. I’m confident I’m leaving you in good hands.’ 

‘You shouldn’t be leaving me at all,’ you groan, throwing your head back against your chair. ‘But I understand and I hope that when I have a husband one day, he'll do the same for me.’ 

Faris just smiles at that and gets comfortable on the couch facing the door. He knows better than to get into this conversation with you again. Last time you ended up facetiming his wife in tears and he ended up having to calm down two crying women. 

‘Wait, did you just say sriracha?’ you sit up in your chair when your brain suddenly realizes what he had just said. ‘As in the hot sauce?’

‘No, I said 3RACHA, that’s what they called themselves back then,’ Faris replies, glancing at you. ‘I think they made music together in their free time, before they started their own company.’ 

Huh. Interesting. Why on earth would they go from making music together to becoming bodyguards? 

‘So all eight of them made music together?’ you ask curiously. 

‘No, just Chan, Jisung and Changbin. I think they mostly rapped, but if you’re interested in knowing more, you can always ask. It could break the ice when you meet them,’ Faris suggests, winking at you. 

‘I’ll pass, I don’t want them to think I’m happy about this arrangement,’ you murmur, turning your chair so your back is to Faris. ‘Will you tell me when it’s time to go?’ 

‘Don’t I always?’ he chuckles. 

You flip him off without looking and put on your headphones. Time to edit some more music. 

****

You’re so engrossed in your music, that it takes Faris multiple tries to get you to put down your headphones. He even goes as far as opening the blinds to let the light in, making you whimper and flinch by the intrusion of it. 

‘Alright, alright,’ you yell, your eyes scrunched close. ‘I beg for mercy, I’ll come with you.’ 

Faris laughs and closes the blinds, once again developing the room in darkness, just how you like it. He has scolded you many times before about how bad it is for your eyes to squint at your screen in a dark room, but you rarely listen to him about it. 

‘If you think about telling my new watch dogs this trick of yours, I’ll haunt you,’ you warn Faris when the two of you walk towards Yoona’s office. 

Faris makes a movement with his hands as if he’s zipping his lips closed and you nod happily at him, trusting him to keep his word. 

‘How late are we?’ you ask, having forgotten your phone in the studio when Faris basically dragged you out by your arm. 

‘About five minutes too early,’ he smiles proudly. 

Of fucking course. He’s been working with you for two years so he knows all your annoying traits by now, including having a habit of being late because you simply forget the time when you’re working. 

‘What will I do without you,’ you pout at him, ignoring the nervous butterflies in your stomach as you near Yoona’s office. 

‘You’ll be just fine, Nabi,’ Faris says and you’re not sure if he means it as a reply to what you just said or as a reassurance before meeting your new team of bodyguards. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn towards Faris. ‘How do I look?’ 

‘I thought you didn’t care?’ he grins, but he reaches out to flatten a few wild strands of your hair. 

You blow him a kiss, put on a straight face and turn around to knock on the door before pushing it open. The first thing you’re greeted with is the silhouette of 4 men standing with their back to you. Each of them have broad muscular shoulders that are clearly visible under the black suit jacket they’re wearing, the fabric straining like they’re wearing a size too small. 

The man on the right turns around when you enter and you nearly gasp at his beauty. His hair is styled to show a little v of his forehead and the black strands nearly reach his eyes. Jesus. He could be a model if he wanted too. He raises his eyebrows at you when you just stare at him for a moment, before he nudges the man next to him. 

‘Are you fucking kidding me,’ you mutter under your breathe when the other man turns around and piercing eyes meet yours. 

Of course he’s beautiful as well. What the hell was Yoona thinking? 

‘Ah, Y/N, there you are,’ Yoona says when she notices you. ‘On time, even.’ 

You roll your eyes and stroll forward to her desk, ignoring the four men as you make your way around them. In that little moment you forget there’s supposed to be more of them and when you turn to stand next to Yoona and see the chairs in front of her desk filled with four more gorgeous men, you nearly stumble. 

Yoona grins at you and you narrow your eyes at the woman. 

‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ you grumble at her. ‘Where did you even find them? heaven?’ 

One of the men snorts before trying to cover it up with a cough. 

‘Don’t mind her gentleman, she’s in a mood today,’ Yoona smiles. 

‘I wonder why,’ you mutter, sending a fake smile in the direction of the bodyguards. 

‘That’s alright, it must be a lot to take in,’ one of them says with such a deep voice that your eyes widen. 

It must look comical, cause the same man that snorted earlier, lets out a giggle. ‘Don’t worry, Miss, it’s how everyone reacts to first hearing Felix’s voice,’ 

You want to focus on him calling you Miss, but the urge to see which face belongs to the deep voice is stronger.

‘Who’s Felix?’ you ask, your eyes searching the men in front of you. 

‘I am,’ the only blonde man of the group says, lifting his hand to show you where he is. He’s absolutely stunning with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. 

‘Holy shit, is that your real voice?’ you ask without thinking, slapping your hand in front of your mouth as soon as the words come out. 

He laughs and a few of the other men chuckle as well. 

‘It is, sometimes it gets even deeper,’ he says. 

‘Yeah, Lix actually has like three different voices,’ the man who called you Miss grins. 

It’s getting annoying not to know his name, but you don’t want to ask and seem interested. Luckily one of the men at the back seems to read your mind somehow. 

‘Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, my name is Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan. I’m the leader and head of your security team as of now. So if you experience any problems with our service in any way, I’m the one you can come to.’ 

‘Noted,’ you mumble, ignoring Yoona’s glare at your rudeness. 

So that’s Chan. Faris forgot to mention how beautiful his trainee was and you were so going to punch his arm for that later. 

‘I’m Lee Minho,’ the one with the piercing stare says. ‘I’ll be joining your dance team.’ 

Fuck. Of course he is. 

‘So will I,’ Felix smiles. ���Lee Felix.’

‘And me, Hwang Hyunjin,’ the man closest to you winks. 

Great. They were absolutely going to kill you. In more ways than one. 

Biting your lip you wait for the last four to introduce themselves and pray to all the gods that Miss guy is going to be your assistant. He already feels like the most easy going out of all eight and if you need to work with one of them closely, you’d rather it be him than anyone else. 

‘Kim Seungmin, I’ll be one of your bodyguards’ the one who noticed you first says, his eyes flicking up and down your body as if he’s calculating how much of a flight risk you are. 

Oh just you wait and see buddy. 

‘I’m Yang Jeongin, but you can call me Innie or Ayen,’ the very cute man in front of Seungmin smiles and you nearly smile back at him. 

Finally the man you’ve been waiting for speaks up. ‘I’m Han Jisung, your new assistant.’ 

You cheer in your head, keeping a straight face as you look at the last man. He’s definitely the most buff of them all, his biceps really testing the fabric of his suit jacket. 

‘And I’m Seo Changbin, also part of your daily bodyguard squad.’ 

‘You’re all way too beautiful to be bodyguards,’ you say, crossing your arms with a frown while tapping your foot on the ground. 

Yoona makes a noise beside you and you don’t dare to look at her. She’ll definitely lecture you later, but this is all on her anyways. 

‘Worried your fans will fawn over us?’ Jisung jokes, winking at you. 

Your lips tip up in a tiny smile, but you quickly straighten your face. It was going to be hard to be a brat to them, but you were nothing if you weren’t stubborn. You’re not going to just warm up to them because they were hot and funny. Nope. Not going to happen. 

‘More like you’d be too busy worrying about your good looks to protect me,’ you say, raising your eyebrows at them. 

‘Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,’ Minho grumbles, placing his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as if to comfort him. ‘You won’t have to worry about that, looking this good doesn’t cost us much.’

You open your mouth to reply, but Yoona gets up and goes to stand next to you. 

‘That’s enough Y/N,’ she hisses before smiling her million dollar smile to the men. ‘As you can see Y/N hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of having this many eyes on her all the time.’ 

‘Don’t you have that all the time though,’ Seungmin says directly to you. 

You glare at him. ‘That’s not the same. 

He just shrugs. ‘We don’t want anything from you like your fans or stalkers. We’re not here to be your friends, we’re just here to keep you safe. That’s all that should matter.’ 

His words hit you harder than they should and you can’t help but flinch. The idol life isn't great for maintaining friendships and since you weren’t in a group, the only people you really had around you to talk to were your bodyguard Faris, Yoona and your dancers. You didn’t have a best friend, or even really friends in general, not since high school ended. 

‘Min!’ Chan calls out, glaring at the man. 

You square your shoulders and tilt your head, putting another fake smile on your face. ‘It’s fine, he’s right isn’t he.’ 

‘No, he’s not,’ Chan shakes his head. ‘Listen-’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you repeat, interrupting him. ‘How about I’ll show Jisung his office and we can go over the schedule for next week?’ 

Chan frowns down at you, sharing a look with Jisung and Yoona, but then he nods. You give him a nod back in thanks and without looking at any of the other guys you make a beeline for the door, hoping Jisung will follow you. 

‘Well, that went great,’ you hear someone say before you step outside. 

Faris frowns when he sees the look on your face, but he doesn’t say anything and falls into step behind you like he always does. It’s one of the things you love about him, he always knows when to not ask questions. You can hear him and Jisung quietly talking behind you, but you don’t mind, they know each other after all. 

‘Well, here we are,’ you say, opening the door of the small office area next to the studio you usually work at. ‘You can arrange everything how you like and if you need anything you can ask Yoona.’ 

‘I wasn’t expecting an office,’ Jisung smiles at you, stepping inside the room to take a look. 

It’s not much. Just a desk with a comfortable chair and a computer, a two person couch and in the corner there’s a bookcase that so far only houses a cactus, your first three albums and a box with documents your last assistant left behind. 

‘Of course you get an office, can’t have you shacking up with me in the studio,’ you say, trying to joke with him. 

‘Hey, about what Seungmin said,’ Jisung starts, sitting down in his desk chair and twirling around. ‘He’s just very serious about his job, he didn’t really mean the part about us not being your friends.’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you shrug. ‘You’re not really meant to be my friends anyways, you’re hired to protect me.’ 

‘Yeah, you don’t look too happy about that. Why is that?’ Jisung asks and he sounds genuinely curious. ‘I mean, sure we’re a whole lot, but isn’t it nice to know you’ll be safe?’ 

‘Safe? Yes. Watched by eight, I repeat, eight men? No thank you, I don’t need that.’ 

Jisung tilts his head and purses his lips in thought, like he’s actually trying to see this from your side. ‘I get it, I do, I’ve lived with most of them for the last few years and like I said, we can be a lot.’ 

‘But?’ you ask, falling down on the couch in front of Jisung’s new desk. ‘I feel there’s a but there.’ 

‘You really have no idea, do you?’ Jisung leans his chin on his palm as he looks at you. ‘We’ve seen the threats Y/N, we’ve seen the video’s of handsy fans, we’ve seen the footage of that dude trying to break into your house. It’s a miracle really that nothing has happened to you so far with only Faris by your side.’ 

‘He’s right, Nabi,’ Faris says from his spot by the door. 

‘Okay, maybe more than one bodyguard would be better,’ you say slowly. ‘But eight? I still think it’s a bit much, especially the undercover bit.’ 

Jisung shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Maybe so, but at least you’ll know you will be safe.’ 

‘I guess,’ you mumble. 

‘Wanna go over the schedule for next week with me?’ Jisung asks. ‘Get your mind off all this for a bit?’ 

You jump up from the couch immediately and walk around the desk to stand next to him while he starts up the computer. 

****

About half an hour later you’re fairly confident Jisung will make a good assistant. He’s written down your interviews and gigs for the coming month and made a list of all the things he wanted to take care of before that. It was cute how he wanted to do it right. 

‘Knock, knock,’ a voice called out from the door and when you looked up you saw Chan and Changbin hugging Faris. 

‘How’s it going here?’ Chan smiles at you as he walks inside, his hands in his pocket. He probably tried to come off less intimidating like that, but it didn’t really work. 

‘Fine,’ you say, looking at the computer screen again. 

If you kept your eyes on him you’d probably drool all over your favorite studio outfit. That man was way too fine. 

‘It’s going great, Channie,’ Jisung says. ‘We’ve been getting along perfectly without the ice kings here.’ 

‘Don’t let them hear you call them that,’ Chan chuckles, moving to sit on the couch. ‘I hope we’ll be able to make this work, Y/N. I take great pride in my work and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel comfortable around us.’ 

Ugh. Why did he have to be so kind too? 

‘Thank you,’ you mutter, your eyes still on the screen. 

‘We’ll promise not to impose your privacy too much when we move in, but–’ 

Your head snaps up to look at him then and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jisung covering his face with his hands. 

‘What did you just say?’ you ask, standing up. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just hear you say the words moving in?’ 

‘Uhm,’ Chan tilts his head in confusion. ‘I thought you knew?’ 

‘Knew. What?’ you growl, your fingers balling up in fists. 

‘Oh boy,’ Jisung whispers and you turn to glare at him. 

‘You knew about this?’ 

‘Uhm, we all did? And we figured so would you,’ he shrugs, looking at you with big innocent eyes. 

You close your eyes, not at all immune to those brown doe eyes. If you keep looking at him you will stop being angry and you can’t do that. Not now. 

‘If somebody doesn’t tell me very soon what exactly this thing I’m supposed to know is, I will scream,’ you clench your jaw and take a shaky breath. 

This can’t be happening. They are not moving into your house with you. Yoona won’t do that to you, not after your talk this morning. Right? You close your eyes in frustration, already knowing the answer to your own question. She will. 

‘Such a drama queen,’ a new voice speaks up from the door and when you turn your head, already seeing red, you see Minho smirking at you. 

Changbin and Faris look concerned and when you look back at Chan, he actually looks like he’s pitying you. Fuck. 

‘Just say it already.’

‘Well, we’re supposed to move into your new house with you,’ Chan says, confirming it. 

Oh hell no. 

a/n: eeeeeeekkk I'm so excited for this series you have no idea!! I wasn't going to upload till tomorrow, but @staylovesmiley made me flip a coin and here I am at midnight, feeding you the first chapter.

Please let me know your thoughts <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko

[pix-writes]

for the nsfw request for Stan and Ford (which tbh is more like a question lol also be completely free to not answer in case you don't want to); what kind of noises do they make? or they don't make a noise at all? Thank you!!

No problem, thanks for asking!

Under cut as is 18+

STANLEY:

He seems like the kind of guy who would grunt and moan a little, he's not quiet but he's not loud either, as he wants to hear his partner's sounds most of all, but sometimes he can't be quiet either cause it just feels too good. (Also likes to hear the squeak or rattle of whatever furniture he's got you placed on/bent over when you get into it, has broken a worn out, shoddy table or two in his time!)

Knows from experience that a lot of partners like him to make some noise 😉 (say thank you to the ladies who taught him this). Though the very point where he does come, he's practically silent. Will pant and groan afterwards though.

Stan in everyday life is sorta what you get in bed too, just more unfiltered, he opens his mouth to say all sorts of dirty things and feedback about how good you're doing/feel and things he wants to do to you and praises you when you respond in the way he wants. Depends on the circumstances though, as if he's totally in the moment he doesn't run his mouth so much. Can also be more playful too, so at times he'll try to make his partner laugh or be totally cheesy (cue awfully obvious rp where he pretends you're some beautiful/handsome stranger), you might get a chuckle out of him as well. On the other hand, if you manage to rile him up enough, Stan will practically growl in your ear 🥴

If it's just him by himself though, he doesn't make too much sound at all, just moans a little, definitely has that depressing post nut clarity and feels a bit guilty for taking himself in hand.

STANFORD:

Tries to control his volume. Is not successful!

This guy is painfully touch starved and is making up for lost time once he's with a partner, so ends up being unable to censor all the sounds that come out of him from feeling someone else's touch. I'd say his volume is about medium, though, as he does have some self-control. However, once he starts to feel remotely close to orgasm, he will get increasingly more whiny. Increasingly desperate towards climax and starts begging you or saying things, it's so garbled though you don't even know if it's proper sentences or just nonsensical babble. Cannot contain his cries of pleasure when he finally does climax! 🤭 (Edge this man if you want but get soundproofing if you do, otherwise even the neighbours will be able to hear what you're getting up to!)

Doesn't talk too much during, mostly lost in it, will keep giving you necessary instruction or feedback, though. Mostly moans, groans and whines, praises you for how good you are/feel. Though, I think once he starts to get into a relationship and gain confidence/experience, will be more able to control his volume and will run his mouth more, if that's something you're into. Will pleasure you and not let you touch him so he can focus on talking you through it 🫠 gets a little cocky once he finds out that you like the sound of his deep voice (what have you unleashed upon yourself??!!!!)

Thinks that his self pleasure is about average but is probably below average, sees it more as relieving stress than for indulgence in fantasies, feels alienated by the way most men would talk about it as it doesn't fit his experiences at all (e.g. thinks most men exaggerate their drive and promiscuity... Probably not wrong, but I hc that Ford is on the ace spectrum somewhere, probably demi sexual, but doesn't know until the twins tell him about lgbt+ identities). Helps him to sleep, though didn't feel safe enough to do it much at all during his portal days, as he was often on the run. Is often intentionally quiet when doing it because he often is in places where the walls are thin or he needs to hear if he might be walked in on (because it's likely to happen; is happy that so far he's never been caught) still moans a lot when he comes though.

[rottiens]

A LOVELY TOUCH┊ISAGI YOICHI

✮ summary. meeting his parents and being in his room for the first time allows you to get to know another side of isagi that you hadn't discovered before.

✮ tags. (18+), established relationship, unprotected sex + creampie, fem reader, petnames, sex toys, praising (that’s my girl), spit, dirty talk. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ wc. 4.3k

Isagi's room is just as you had pictured it in your imagination. The walls are decorated with soccer posters, of some anime with rather colorful characters and of some soccer players you vaguely recognize from having seen them on your phone. The bed is impeccably made, with a navy blue bedspread that matches the two pillows perfectly lined up on top. Next to the bed, a nightstand holds a stack of comics and manga that you fail to identify until you get close enough. In front of the bed, a wall-mounted television is connected to a playstation, ready to be used.

The room, in general, is surprisingly tidy, almost too tidy to be Isagi's. The thought that he probably cleaned neatly because he knew you'd be staying over tonight brings a smile to your face. Throughout your relationship, you had always met at your place or at the hotels he stays at when you visit him out of town, so to be here, in a space that is entirely his, sends a tingle through your stomach that stirs the hunger of your curiosity.

As you flip through the monochromatic pages of one of the manga, you hear the sound of his footsteps approaching down the hallway. The floorboards groan under his weight, and your heart pounds, as if you've been caught doing something wrong. A smile spreads across your face as you see him standing in the doorframe, his silhouette blocking the light coming in from the hallway, giving him an almost cinematic air.

Isagi mimics your smile, mirroring it as he closes the door behind him and steps into the space you now share. It is at that moment that you notice the subtle scent of sandalwood wafting through the air, permeating the atmosphere. The room, completely enclosed and with thick curtains blocking the outside light, has maintained this scent throughout the day.

"What do you think, then?" asks Isagi, with a slight tension in his voice that makes you wonder if his heart is beating as fast as yours.

Isagi's parents turned out to be even more charming than you had imagined. His mother insisted on adding another dish to dinner, even though you had offered to cook for everyone; she even offered to help you wash the dishes, while Mr. Isagi and your boyfriend continued chatting in the dining room a few feet away.

The feeling you are left with is one of warmth and comfort, like a warm blanket wrapped around you after a long winter's day. And that's what you're trying to express, albeit in a simpler, less corny way.

"…I'm happy to have finally met them," you conclude sincerely.

Isagi, who has just hung up his jacket in the closet and is now wearing only a shirt and dark sweatpants, walks up to you and wraps his strong arms around your waist. With the manga completely forgotten, your hands find rest on the back of his neck, and out of instinct, you start stroking his hair. Isagi visibly relaxes at your loving touch.

"'Yeah? I think they really liked you, I was nervous," he says, laughing softly.

"Really, you thought they wouldn't like me?" you tease as Isagi closes his eyes, enjoying your touch.

"Quite the opposite. I thought they might like you more than me," he replies, meeting your eyes again, causing a sparkle to tingle up from your belly to your ribs.

"Your mom is so nice, and your dad is so cool. I think it's adorable how they support you."

It's obvious how proud they are of their son, how far he's come. That was reflected in every topic of conversation they had tonight and in the way their eyes sparkled at the sight of him. Deep down, you're relieved to have their approval, too.

"I had no doubt they would like you. My mother loved the dessert you made too, you're cooking so much better every time."

Isagi guides you towards the bed, interrupting the conversation. He lies down first and invites you to join him with a few pats on the mattress. You crawl onto the bedspread, which stays perfectly in place despite the movement, and lie comfortably on the arm he has extended for you.

"I'm gonna stay all weekend," he says, playing with the silver "I" dangling from your neck. Your eyes instantly light up, and Isagi struggles to contain a mischievous smile that threatens to appear at the corners of his lips.

"You hadn't told me," you murmur, controlling the excitement in your voice. "I thought you had to leave tomorrow."

"'Yeah, I wanted to surprise you." His fingers fiddle with your collarbone and the line of your neck as he says it, only to finally focus his full attention on you.

He watches your reaction closely, delighted that he got this reaction in person, knowing it wouldn't be the same if he'd told you about it over the phone. Then, he leans toward you and kisses you softly on the lips, a fleeting kiss after which he doesn't pull away, allowing you to become drunk on the fresh, woody scent that surrounds him.

"We could go out tomorrow, maybe invite your parents over again and…" you start to suggest, but Isagi interrupts you with another soft kiss that instantly makes you close your eyes. Your hand rests on his chest, feeling his heart dance against his ribs, as his palm rests on your waist.

"I'd love the idea, but right now I don't wanna do anything but hold you close."

The physical contact instantly ignites your skin, and the tone of his voice alerts your senses to what might be coming. But you're still curious to explore more of his space, so you add, "Your room…" he chuckles, probably guessing what you're going to say next. "It's very organized."

"Does that surprise you?" Not really, but the attention to detail does. Everything looks impeccable, you know he's put a lot of thought into it. "I've learned a few things about keeping my place in order with Barou."

"Oh, yeah, you guys were roommates before."

"Uh huh. He wanted to kill me when he found my shoes where they were not supposed to be, or my jacket on the couch when I got home late from training."

You laugh at the mental image of an angry Barou chasing Isagi with his shoes in hand around the apartment, though you remain aware of Isagi's touch, of how his fingers gently trace lines on the skin of your stomach, which your now somewhat disheveled top reveals.

The room is enveloped in a comfortable silence, broken only by the faint whisper of the fan on the ceiling. You've settled into his chest, with his heartbeat providing a steady, soothing rhythm that almost lulls you to sleep. Yet your eyes roam the room with a newfound curiosity, lingering on details you had previously overlooked, as if you want to unravel a little more of what this space can reveal to you about him.

Near the door, the closet remains ajar, revealing a glimpse of its interior. The shirts are lined up with almost millimeter precision, but it's the bottom corner that captures your attention. Between a pair of worn sneakers and a backpack that has seen better days, a cardboard box with worn corners peeks out, partially hidden.

Your curiosity piqued, you sit up slightly, trying not to disturb the moment.

"What's that?" you ask quietly, pointing to the box with a slight nod of your head.

Isagi follows the direction of your gaze and sketches a shy smile, as if you've found something he'd forgotten. "Oh, that… it's just a box with some old things, souvenirs and such."

His answer is simple, but his tone piques your interest even more. You slide gently from his side, the mattress emitting a slight creak under your weight as you stand up. " Can I see it?" you ask, wariness mingling with growing curiosity.

Isagi chuckles softly, shaking his head with a mixture of resignation and amusement. "Sure, but there's not much, really."

You make your way to the closet and kneel down in front of the box. You carefully pull it out, surprised by its unexpected weight. You place it on the floor in front of you and, as you lift the lid, a rush of nostalgia seems to flood the air.

Inside, you find a variety of objects: a pair of soccer tickets yellowed by time, photos of a younger Isagi alongside friends you don't recognize, and a scarf of his favorite team, still vibrant in its colors. There's a small trophy, probably from some school competition, and a keychain that looks like it was purchased on his first major trip away from home. Each object seems to be loaded with history and meaning, as if they were pieces of a puzzle that together reveal the essence of who he is now.

Your fingers stop on one photograph in particular, where a teenage Isagi smiles broadly, holding a ball with his hand raised in victory. Beside him, a childhood friend embraces him with the same energy. The happiness on his face is so genuine that you can't help but smile too.

"This is adorable," you say, holding up the photo so Isagi can see it from the bed.

He gets up and comes over to you, sitting down next to you on the floor. "That was a good time," he comments, his voice laden with nostalgia as he takes the photo from your hands to look at it more closely. "We won that match by sheer luck, but it was one of the best days of my life."

Your attention is diverted to another object in the box, a small notebook with worn edges. You delicately open it, finding inside scribbles, small drawings and notes that Isagi probably wrote when he was a teenager.

"You've kept all this for how long?" you ask, fascinated by the amount of memories he's accumulated.

"Since forever, I think," he replies, laughing lightly. "I'm not one to usually hold on to the past, but some things are worth keeping. I like to remember them from time to time."

You close the notebook and put it back in the box, feeling like you've just discovered a side of Isagi you may not have been fully aware of. As you do so, something else at the bottom of the box catches your eye. It's the thick edge of what appears to be a red book. Curiosity leads you to slide your fingers along it and pull it out for a better look. The objects on top offer resistance, but without giving up, you manage to pull it out.

"Oh," Isagi murmurs as you realize that it's not a book you've pulled out, but a stack of magazines that, under the light of the bulb, reveal their true nature.

"Yoichi?" you ask, covering your mouth with your hand to contain the laughter bubbling in your stomach while at the same time showing the magazine in his direction.

"Fuck." His cheeks flush red, and you've never seen him so nervous. Immediately, he tries to snatch them from you, wrestling you with the box in between.

"Let me see them!" you laugh, louder this time, enjoying the rare sight of seeing him so distressed.

"Stop, it's embarrassing! Don't open them!" he insists, desperate, as you try to wriggle away from him, the porn magazines now scattered around you.

In the struggle, his foot buckles and he loses his balance, falling on top of you and crushing you to the floor. Your hands are trapped above your head, imprisoned, and the magazines fall open, revealing their stained pages beside you.

" Can I explain?" he says, his voice trembling between embarrassment and nervous laughter.

"Well?" you ask, biting your lip to keep from laughing again.

You watch him as he struggles to find the right words, finally giving up with a sigh. "It was a gift from a friend."

"And you kept them?" you ask, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Well, yes…" he mumbles.

You laugh again, not because you're judging him, but because seeing him so grief-stricken over something he tried to hide, but which is really no big deal, is adorable. It's rare to see him in this state of vulnerability, and you can't help but enjoy his discomfort a little. Your laughter grows with his fingers starting to tickle you, and your eyes fill with tears as you beg for mercy. Finally, Isagi pulls away, sitting back on his heels, victorious as the air from the fan ripples his hair.

"It's okay, check them if you want. I'll go pee, but don't touch anything else until I get back," he says, his voice tinged with faux authoritarianism.

His words only fuel your desire to explore more. You sit back down, the magazines now forgotten on the floor, as you scan the room for something else you might discover. But finding nothing that captures your attention, you momentarily give up, remembering that you probably have missed messages from your mom asking how dinner went. Your phone, deep in your pocket, had died halfway through dinner.

"Babe, where's your charger?" you yell, heading for the nightstand. You open the drawer and what you find is more than you expected. It's a treasure trove, exactly what you were looking for to piss him off even more.

"Fuck me," Isagi mutters from the doorway, his tone a clear sign of resignation.

"A fleshlight?" you exclaim, completely shocked. There's not even any intention of joking now. "I didn't think you were the type to use toys… I thought you didn't like them."

Isagi advances towards you quickly, but you hide it behind your back just in time. He stops, measuring his next steps.

"It was a joke," he explains, his voice laden with embarrassment.

"What kind of joke?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Isagi shakes his head, trying to organize his thoughts. "The guys thought it would be funny. It was a 'joke' because… well, because I was a virgin and stuff. Now, give it to me."

Isagi takes a step forward, but you step back, finding yourself pinned against the bed.

"Did you use it?" you ask, your eyes full of genuine wonder as you try to keep your cool.

Before you can run away or have time to react, Isagi advances towards you with the speed and precision he only shows in the field. His eyes, tinged with a deep blue full of determination, bore into yours, revealing an expression you have rarely seen, a mixture of defiance and desire. Effortlessly, he manages to lay you down on the mattress, his weight taking you prisoner as he reaches for the object hidden behind your back. He teases you again with tickling, and new tears of laughter form in your eyes.

"Fine! Fine, I give up! But first…" you say with a chuckle, noticing how he raises an eyebrow tentatively, as he pulls away and is completely seated on top of you, you notice small beads of sweat forming a crown on his forehead. "I need to know if you've used it."

Isagi licks his upper lip, his heart beating rapidly. He shouldn't feel embarrassed, but there's something uncomfortably intimate about admitting it in front of you, as if crossing an invisible line.

"Yes," he replies simply, his voice barely a whisper.

"Thinking about me?"

The room is plunged into a thick, tension-laden silence. Isagi looks at you, his eyes roaming over every detail of your face.

"Yes," he confesses, his words full of honesty. You lick your lips, struggling to keep your breathing under control.

"What were you thinking?" you ask, your voice low, barely audible in the charged atmosphere of the room.

Isagi takes a moment before answering, his eyes scanning yours for any clues. Finally, he leans in a little closer, his face close to yours, and in a barely audible whisper, he answers you.

"I was thinking about you… riding me, then me fucking you sideways, toying with your clit. Fuck, I remember it so clearly," he says, his voice deeper, charged with a mixture of desire and vulnerability you've never heard before.

The confession leaves a shiver running across your skin, and for a moment, the air in the room seems to grow thicker, heavier. His words, so simple yet so loaded with meaning, make you feel a mix of emotions. All you can do is look at him, contemplate this man who has somehow become so essential to you, so intimately tied to your life that imagining a future without him seems impossible.

"I want to see you use it…" you whisper, your words full of desire, stripped of any trace of teasing. The question hangs in the air, waiting for his answer.

Isagi takes a shaky breath, and you can feel his hips push against your abdomen, letting you know exactly what he thinks about the idea. The tip of his nose brushes against yours in an intimate gesture, but then he stops, reluctantly pulling away.

"Okay…" he sighs with resignation. Though you lick your suddenly dry lips now, and silently moan at the loss of his warmth when he pulls away, your skin begins to tingle with anticipation. Before you, your boyfriend peels off his shirt in one fluid motion, dropping it carelessly to the side. The sight of his naked torso, bathed in the soft light of the room, makes your heart pound, building anticipation and tension in the air.

"Do you have any lube?" you ask, your tone anxious, straining to keep your eyes fixed on his and not on the noticeably tight bulge under his boxers as he finally strips out of his pants.

Isagi gives a slight nod of his head, gesturing towards the bedside table. "If you'd looked a little harder, you would have found it right next to that… thing."

A smile tugs at your lips as you hear him refer to the toy that way, reminding you that, while he's not completely comfortable with the idea, he's willing to experience something new just because you've asked him to. Quickly, you lean over to the nightstand, pushing aside the charger and other items, until your fingers find the bottle of lubricant. You take it and return to bed with excitement pulsing through your veins.

Your legs are folded and wedged between his thighs. You watch anxiously as he holds himself with his hands on the mattress, his back slightly arched back. The sight of the tangle of hair peeking over the edge of his boxers distracts you for a moment, intensifying the desire growing between you both.

"Take it out," you ask, flashlight in one hand, lube in the other.

"You take it out, I thought it was you who wanted to play."

The response makes you bite your tongue, so he was going to make you work for it, you conclude. Good. You set the objects aside and ask him to lift his ass up so you can fully pull his boxers out of him, his free cock bouncing gently on the spot. He was completely hard and you want to tease him about it, comment to him that if he doesn't like the idea so much why is he so hard, but you know he's been thinking about it probably before dinner and that, if he were to toss your panties aside he'd realize you were just as needy so you let it go for now. Just for your own good.

It throbs as you feel your determined hand approach with the bottle of lubricant. You drop a generous amount at the tip, watching as it slowly slides to the base, its viscous texture catching the dim light of the room. Deftly, you reach for the liquid just before it touches the mattress, catching it with your fingers in a precise gesture.

Isagi shudders under your touch, a tremor running through his body more from the warmth of your touch than the coldness of the lubricant. The sticky sound of your hand sliding up and down now accompanies the soft murmur of the fan, creating an intimate symphony that fills the space you share.

You stroke him just a little before taking the toy, Isagi grunts as you press it to the tip, he thrusts his hips up to receive you when you finally slide it down disappearing his cock completely. You dare to give it a few pumps, taking note of every reaction.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," he replies with his eyelids half drooping and his jaw clenched.

Tentatively you give another deep thrust, the lewd sound of the toy filling the room with its wet, provocative echo. Then, you pull it out completely, and you can't help but watch as his cock drips pre-cum mixed with the lube, creating a tantalizing gloss on the tip. Isagi moans at the lack of attention, his voice laden with need, but it doesn't take you long to re-wrap his cock with the plastic, resuming a rhythm you know he loves.

"You're doing such a good job…" you murmur, fascinated as you watch him lose himself more in the moment, clearly surrendered to the pleasure you're giving him.

You liked it, you must confess. The power it makes you feel to see him like this, it was just like when you were masturbating him, he could reason, but for some reason there's something different about using a toy in between, the whole new scenario has you in a thick cloud of frenzy, your movements speeding up, determined to make him cum. His brow furrows, his lips part.

"Yes? Do you like being in control?" asks Isagi, his voice husky with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

You just mumble something inaudible, caught between the intensity of the moment and the proximity of his body. Before you can add anything else, however, Isagi rises, his movements fluid and confident. His hand slides to the back of your neck, gripping it firmly as he draws you closer, his lips only inches from yours, like a promise of an approaching kiss. "You like fucking me?"

"Yeah… fuck, I wanna watch you cum."

"Do it. Fuck me harder, cmon. Use me."

With both hands on your cheeks, he traps you in an intimate kiss, a heady mix of lust and love. His lips move urgently over yours, his tongue tangling in yours as his teeth gently punish your lower lip. Isagi's moans grow louder, each one charged with desire, as he inevitably nears climax.

"I'm not cumming…" he growls. "Not anywhere else but in your pussy."

Before you can react, Isagi takes your hand firmly, pushing the fleshlight aside. With a fluidity in his movements, he gently lays you down against the bed, his body pressing against yours. One hand rests on your neck, the touch warm and reassuring, while the other descends to your clit, caressing it in slow, long circles. The air becomes thick with anticipation and desire, each brush igniting your senses and leaving you breathless.

"No more games." The determination on his face is exhilarating, it has you throbbing and clenching around his fingers stretching you.

In a moment, Isagi gets rid of your bottoms and underwear and spits on his hand to wrap his cock with saliva, his hips exerting weight on your thighs open you wider for him and then you feel the tip part the walls of your pussy, your mouth opens slightly.

"There's nothing like this pussy."

Then, with one precise movement, Isagi slides inside you, so deep it takes your breath away for an instant. The sensation fills you completely, eliciting a choked moan in your throat. He doesn't move fast, but begins to roll his hips, creating a friction that makes you shudder. At the same time, his fingers continue to torture your clit in slow, deliberate circles, sending waves of pleasure that make you arch your back, letting the moment consume you completely.

"I'm almost there… but I need you to cum with me," he gasps.

You can only nod in desperation, begging him wordlessly to keep up the pace. But, without warning, Isagi pulls out, wrenching a frustrated moan from you before you can protest. With almost ruthless precision, he flicks your clit with the tip of his cock, drawing an unexpected cry of pleasure from you. Then he lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder in a new position that allows him to go even deeper. Without further warning, he begins to thrust hard into you, the rhythm now brutal, as if he is determined to bring you to the edge of your orgasm. Each thrust is a promise broken and fulfilled at the same time, a movement that seeks both his release and yours, as you feel yourself collapse in shared ecstasy.

"There's nothing like this fucking pussy," Isagi murmurs between clenched teeth, his voice laden with desire as his lips land on your heel with a sweetness so intense it leaves you breathless. The contradiction between the brutality of his thrusts and the tenderness of his gesture makes you feel dizzy. "Lets cum together, baby."

His words sound like a request, but his raw passion, along with the strokes that spread throughout your body, feel like a command you can't refuse, even if you wanted to. Your back arches, and an electric current runs down your spine, tangling in your insides and exploding in an explosion of colors like fireworks. A few thrusts later, Isagi is chasing you, cumming inside you as he showers you with praise and how good you always are to him.

"That's my girl, there you go," he says sweetly as he kisses your throat, moves up to your jaw and concludes on your lips with tiny kisses that he scatters all over your face, tickling you.

"Stop!" you laugh as he gently bites your cheek for the sole purpose of teasing you.

"Don't run away from my kisses, c'mere!" Isagi squeezes you against his arms, from which you can't escape, as he continues to shower you with kisses and nibble you gently in every corner he can reach with his teeth. He doesn't stop until you surrender in his arms and kiss him back as you tousle the sweaty strands of his hair.

"Let's take a shower and go to sleep," you murmur sleepily. "I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, let's do that," he says, giving you one last kiss on the lips as he squeezes your cheeks.

"Maybe we can use the toy aga—"

"Don't even think about it."

[divinesolas]

Thinking about when Jace got teased by asking if he knew where he had to put his cock in… a fic about it would kill me

a.n: im sure this has been done a million times before but this is my take on it :3 this is prob not as smutty as you probably hoped but i hope you like it <333 only warnings are reader is a northern (no specific house) and oral (fem)

“You do know how the act is done i assume. At least in principle.” You see the way jace tenses next to you and aegon shoots you a pleased look. your face falls, this was not going to be good.

“Where to put your cock and all that.” You place a hand on jaces shoulder but he does not acknowledge you as you can tell he is growing angrier by the second. “Ignore him jace, he’s not worth it-”

“You can play the jester if you wish. but hold your tongue before my bethrothed.” Aegon says not more but you remove your hand from his shoulder as jace gulps down the remainder of his wine. You can tell he’s pissed. His jaw is clenched and his leg bounces up and down, eyes set at the wall.

You hate how hot he looks, how his stare has your thighs clenching together. You have only been betrothed for a few months now. You had taken a trip down to dragonstone to meet him when the trial suddenly was called and you agreed to join him and the rest of his family.

When you place a hand on his thigh his leg stops moving and his head turns towards you, eyes wide. You squeeze his thigh lightly as you lean closer to him, your words hushed. “Do not let him bother you jace.” The look in his eye is dark as they roam around your face and land on your lips. You hold your breath and your hand slips off his thigh as you turn away from him. There was no way he was going to kiss you but you can’t help but feel embarrassed still.

Your attention is quickly taken away by baela who asks you numerous questions about the north and you happily answer all her questions, assuring her you would be more than happy to show her around should she be interested in going there.

The night goes sour and you rush after jace who quickly storms out of the room after being dismissed. You call his name as you sprint down the hall but he does not turn to look at you or stop his movement until you are right next to him, in front of his room.

“Jace-”

Before you even realize it your on the bed with his head under your dress. His tongue lapping at your walls with his hands pressing against your knees to keep them apart. One of your hands covers you mouth while the other grips tightly at the hair on his head, with every pull he lets out a groan that sends shivers up and down your back.

You do not know how you even ended up here. He was just so angry about the whole dinner that he needed something to relieve his stress and he has vowed that has much as he wishes too he will not bed you before your wedding. But this was not him bedding you, he has not stuck his cock where his tongue is plunging in and out it did not count in his eyes.

He always has hated that you had to cover your mouth, always wishing he could just hear you fully but he only has one more moon cycle before he can fully, till then he can settle for the muffled sounds of your delight.

Aegon knew nothing of your relationship he had no clue why he let it bother him so much. He had no clue that jace had you crying his name on his lips more times than he can ever count, hes sure aegon has never even had a women release before but jace sure has and you were living proof.

perm jace taglist <3

@earth4angels @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @ravenn-darkholme

[dollyichi]

MAD PUP

kaminari denki x f ! reader ᯓ★ 2.7k words. m—dni. established relationship / both are pro-heroes / m-rec. oral / mentions of injury / c^m in pant!es / not proofread

an entry to my “ milk and cookies “ event with the prompt #6 “no don’t take it off, i want it just like this.” requested by an anon!

your boyfriend’s sulky and playing hard to get because of a little misunderstanding. that’s fine, you always know how to get your way in the end.

“denki… please don’t ignore me!” you’re on your knees beside him on the couch, tugging on his sleeves. “are you mad at me?” as if he could resist those doe eyes—but right now, he has to.

you got home late today because you passed out during a mission and was only brought home when you were given the clear after waking up. he wasn’t mad about that—he was more relieved you were alright. but since you’re finally home, he was mainly mad with the ‘fact’ that you left him early in the morning without even telling him where you’re headed off to. shutting the front door so quickly, him trying to run down the stairs to catch up to wish you good luck, then you’re suddenly gone the whole day—not even leaving a note, no texts, no calls—just pure silence.

very out of character compared to the you that he knows—sweet, loving, actually giving him actual attention? (maybe a bit of an overreaction.)

you’ve been dating for three years and you’ve never done that, not once, neither did he. besides, he can’t recall anything that could’ve gotten you upset at him.

then there goes the overthinking: are you cheating? are you sick of him? not even a little kiss before you go?

if you can’t even say a simple ‘goodbye,’ then he shouldn’t have to greet you with a ‘welcome home.’

when the bells start to chime and you’re going inside the house, your lover isn’t there looking at you like an excited puppy. it makes you raise a brow but it wasn’t that much of a bother. you figured he was probably asleep and resting.

you use this time to take a shower, hoping to spend time with him after—this had his eye twitching from how calm you’re being as he watched from behind the wall that connects to the hallway. “didn’t even bother to find me.” he mutters with a whimper.

the best attack is showing you that he is definitely ignoring you. and thus, when you finish your shower and you catch him in the living room, you get on the couch to hug him immediately. “denki! i really missed you so much today!” yet he doesn’t move, doesn’t look, doesn’t even talk, and refuses to let you cuddle up to him.

confused and oblivious, you place a hand on the side of his neck, “you got no fever though.” he shakes your hand away, “huh? you got hit with a quirk or something?” you say with puffed cheeks.

he’s leaning on the edge of the couch, turning his body slightly to the side, glaring away. somewhat amused with how you’re deliberately trying to get him to look.

‘that’ll give you the taste of your own medicine!’ he reassures himself, but it’s so. damn. hard.

you’re so pretty right now—as always—but especially, now.

you don’t usually have to beg him for anything, you hardly do. you rarely ever fight and it was always easy to make up when you argue. today was just the worst of it. and he wanted a little bit of revenge for feeling left out of your day but he feels like he’s being beaten to a pulp in this silent battle he’s made.

you’re batting your eyelashes, pressing your thighs together. ass so plump against the tiny shorts you always liked to wear at home. hair a little bit damp, probably rushed drying it, towel around your neck, tight shirt. listing all these little details in his head since now was the only time he got to see you properly for today—this was torture for him too you know!

the cherry on top was definitely the lip balm that’s on your lips that you use before going to bed. he’s internally groaning because he always kisses you when you get home—no! you deserve at least this much.

‘ahhh! don’t get hard. don’t get hard. you’re supposed to teach her a lesson!’ he’s doing his best to distract himself and not let the blood flow directly get down to his pants.

you’re so confused why he wouldn’t even look at you. maybe he’s lost it? or was the injury he got yesterday getting to him?

“tch. you don’t wanna look at me, huh, denki?” ‘you’re so cute.’ “then i’ll make you look dummy.” ‘god, you’re really fucking cute.’

the next movements you make has him frozen in his seat, for real this time. watching you move down to the carpet in front of him and tugging his sweatpants down alongside his boxers. already kissing the tip of his dick’s that slightly hard, hands dragging on his body, resting on the back of his thighs, then sensually rubbing up and down.

you suck on it experimentally, and he almost chokes on his own spit. you’re so naughty and dirty, immediately targeting his most sensitive part at the get go.

he never expected you to fight back this hard. he rarely even lets you suck him off cause he knows he’s going to cum just from seeing you take him in your mouth. almost forgetting that ‘lesson’ he wants to teach you.

so he doesn’t look. he doesn’t look but he’s already shaking. gripping onto wherever he could while you’re licking him. doing his best not to buck his hips, letting you have your way but he refuses to let you win… at least not this fast.

maybe a little peek wouldn’t hurt- no he can feel your eyes on him.

and he’s not wrong. you’re making sure your pretty eyes are on him at all times while you’re jerking him off with your hand. using your tongue to lick along his head that’s twitching every time he feels it flick. he’s breathing hard so hard, chest heaving, face contorting—he’s definitely feeling it.

his breath hitched suddenly. feeling your lips sucking around him so softly. he exhaled slowly from the warm, moist feel of your tongue. he’s getting stiffer and harder each second.

if you keep teasing him like this he’d give in. you chuckle against him, which gets him to finally look, a little shocked from the vibrations. as stubborn as he is, he’s still not saying anything, still refusing to touch you—what’s wrong with him?

you take him in deeper. wrapping your hand around the shaft of his cock while your lips inched further. letting his dick slide against your tongue. you’re doing your best to see his every reaction was you looked up through your eyelashes. when your eyes meet he’s already averting his gaze—he’d cum immediately.

it’s crazy how the shine of your balm is mixed with his pre, coating your lips prettily while it’s wrapped around him. bobbing your head up and down so, so slow. he’s already melting. mouth slightly parted while his eyes narrowed down on you.

his fingers are twitching wanting to touch you but he’s still so stubborn. you pull away, continuing to kiss him all over. taking your hand to spread his legs even further that’s getting him embarrassed.

he’s got that face, when you’re trying hard not to be mad but it’s not working in the slightest—you already know you got him.

‘a bit more.’ you think to yourself.

“f-fuck i’m gonna cum.” he says in a whisper, unfortunately you didn’t hear it properly.

denki knows it’s a crime to not be able to fuck you or touch you but he wants to keep up his ‘pride.’ even though it’s definitely tempting while you stared at him all wide-eyed with a guileless expression.

eventually he takes your hands, intertwining them with his as he rests them on top of his thighs.

0 - denki 1 - you

if he wasn’t so cute right now you would’ve stopped right there, when he’s so close and you suddenly deny him of it—but there was a possibility of you being in the wrong.

no matter, this is your win, he at least admits that whole heartedly. he promises to himself that he’ll never challenge you again (as if you knew that.)

“mmph~ baby i wanna cum with your pussy…” he manages to croak out. pushing the strands of hair away from your face.

he’s so close he knows if you go even faster he’s going to burst. you let him go with a pop, licking your lips. you’re smiling to yourself, ‘maybe this strategy isn’t too bad actually.’

his lips quiver as he looked at you.

suddenly, he’s pulling you up from under your arms, seating you on in his lap. “you ignored me today baby.”

“i’m sorry i did my best to get home as quick as possible.” you huff.

“then why didn’t you at least kiss me goodbye?”

you tilt your head, “because you might wake up. and i didn’t want you to get too startled in the morning. you’re still recovering you know?”

“then why didn’t you at least leave a note?”

“i did!” you pout, “i even saw it on the floor when i got here.” he did accidentally hit the fridge while he tried to ‘run’ (wobble) towards you. that explains why didn’t couldn’t see it.

you did say you worked your best today especially with the unusual high rates of villains suddenly showing up in the area.

he lets out an exasperated sigh, you stay quiet for a bit.

“you’re not mad at me?”

“so you’re not mad at me?”

you both say at the same time. you both stop to look at each other, finally taking a proper look. it was obvious from the glimmer of both your eyes that you missed each other, especially from the scare you both got yesterday when he got hit.

“i was hoping to get a kiss on my head you know… it might heal me even faster!”

“you got tons just now though?”

he snorts, “pfft! well not exactly that… but i’m not complaining.”

he pulls you closer, but you make sure not to bump his head. “you still wanna cum?” he nods.

you take your shorts off with a swift motion. you bow your head towards his cock, letting spit trickle down to his head and he’s whimpering at the sight, spreading it on his shaft with each pump of your hand. he’s watching you with an excited grin from your shoulders.

you tilt your head to face him with half-lidded eyes and your hand tight around him, flicking up and down, a trail of spit is still hanging from your lips, visibly connecting a the tip of his cock on your mouth—exactly how it was a few minutes ago.

his hand wrapped around yours that’s pumping him, slowing you down. “h-hahh baby~ just go steady this way.” he’s suddenly so close again before he stopped you.

“n-not fair, at least let me play with your pussy…” he’s so cute. aside from the bandage on his head that has you frowning, the visible tears forming at the corners of his eyes and his cute little pout has you relieved. he’s finally acting like his indulgent self.

his other hand’s trying to tug on your shorts. eventually pushing down the fabric finally exposing your clothed cunt. cooing at the sight of the very visible damp spot at the center of it all. “nice panties baby, real cute.” he chuckles. it’s as he describes it, cute. a pikachu tail patterned pair that matches him, isn’t that convenient.

“d-don’t tease me! you got this for me after all…” you say, already raising your hips to take it off but he stops you. “no don’t take it off, i want it just like this.” he whines, wasting no time to slip them to the side just enough to get him to slide his cock along your slit.

gently pressing the tip against your hole, he ran it back to the front, rubbed it against your clit. it’s just rubbing against you however already making so much noise. you didn’t think you were so turned on from your boyfriend who’s spoiled you rotten suddenly so cold, stubborn, and playing hard to get.

“i love you… denki…” your clit’s so swollen and sensitive from the friction as you grind on each other. “but i-i d-don’t want you to do too much right now though…” you tell him.

“i love you more. so don’t underestimate me baby. just a little hit on the head wont stop me from making you feel good.”

‘as if it was actually little,’ you think to yourself.

he slowly moves your underwear downward, not removing it entirely. letting him slip both his hand and cock from underneath.

he places his tip against your clit, as if he’s kissing it himself. you cried, not caring about the unintelligible sounds coming out of your mouth. feeling his middle and ring finger enter into your pussy from behind, giving you the extra sensation. it’s crazy, feeling so much from the front and inside.

with a shaky hand you reach down to cup his cock. pressing a little harder to help him get there faster. most of your senses were muffled, like grain and static—all hazy.

his fingers constantly pump into you, your walls taking them so deeply he barely even pulled them out. it sent shockwaves through you every time his tip circled your puffy bundle of nerves.

your legs start to tremble from how good he’s making you feel. nothing but choking sobs and his name in broken whimpers left your lips. your walls slightly trembling around his finger made him know you were getting close. he peppers the side of your mouth with kisses easing you into your own peak.

getting dizzy from the sounds of the lewd squelching of your sexes and the way yours and his hand get sloppier by the second. that little knot in your stomach getting tighter with every motion.

before you know it your entire body twitches in time with your intense climax hitting you so suddenly. still, denki’s fingers doesn’t still inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm on his fingers while your walls constantly spasm around them.

fingers curled deep inside you while he continued to jerk himself with his other hand, tip hitting your sensitive clit that has you hissing from the slightest touch.

his breathing was labored, sticking out his tongue against your neck while trying to reach his own high. he’s so sexy when he desperately wants to cum.

you pull his fingers out, while your other hand fixed your panties, letting it hit against his tip that’s leaking so much, wetting the spot even more. “h-hah… so close baby… so close… gonna cum in your panties- mmhh~ gonna make a m-mess just like you.”

he inhaled through his teeth, repeating your name in a chant-like way, making choked sounds as he reached his climax. feeling every shot of his load onto your inner thighs, feeling every drop of warmth to drip down and pool at the bottom of your underwear. you tremble when feel it trickle down against your cunt.

denki places gentle, moist kisses on your shoulder, finally both calming down from your high from how intense session you both had. your bodies to gradually sink deeper against each other and on the couch.

it was all loving and tender till you see your boyfriend make that face of his when he overdoes it. “stupid! look what happened.”

you immediately stand up to get an ice pack to cool him down, however the post-clarity hits you and the uncomfortable feeling of your juices and his slick collected in your cotton panties was not the best sensation.

it’s as if denki’s vision focuses immediately on your inner thighs, seeing the fluids flow down. it gets him to almost sit up slightly with his cock getting hard again—almost gaining complete and proper consciousness out of sheer arousal alone.

with the towel on your neck you try to wipe it off. you can hear him whine under his breath, not liking what you’re doing at all.

“holy shit… something really hurt your brain this time!”

“one m-more time?” he asks weakly.

you profusely shake your head, crossing your arms. “shut up!”

you take a mental note to be stricter this time. no more sex till he’s properly recovered, and to buy better refrigerator magnets.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : HAPPY NEW YEAR! lmk what you think of this fic and ghe dynamic!! i am so bad at male rec i took everything i had in me (that i have right now) to think of this… i love denki so bad btw

[doofsevilinc]

Let Me?

Art Donaldson x reader

Notes: suggestive, fwb-ish, non-tennis AU, university AU, polisci mentioned 😬 first ever work, comments/feedback appreciated 🗣️

Word count: 1k

A/N: sorry for blueballing mike faist call me

Summary: Political science can be a hard major. Everyone needs a distraction sometimes.

Now playing: Play Date - Melanie Martinez

“I’m walkin’ to your house, nobody’s home,

just me and you and you and me alone.”

——————————————————————

Art was so polite. When you first met through your polisci study group friends, he was the perfect gentleman. When you all would go out together, he’d hold the door for you, always pull out your chair when you came back to the table with drinks. You figured he was like that with every girl, your typical midwestern sweetheart.

You couldn’t have caught how his eyes lingered on you when you’d walk past him through the door, or how they drifted downward while you chatted and passed out drinks. No one could. No one suspected it of him. He was too slick about it.

So when the rest of the group wasn’t available and he asked you to help him study for an upcoming test, you thought nothing of it. His roommate would be right next door anyway.

And it really was nice. It was enough to make learning about congressional oversight over the bureaucracy less excruciating. You two laughed a lot (he did at all of your jokes) and he’d smile so sweetly at you that it sort of gave you butterflies. Of course you wouldn’t object when he started only asking for you to study with. You figured it was because you were good at the subject anyway. It’s not like you weren’t getting something out of it too. You had to admit that you liked how he acted like your puppy. He’d do anything you asked, get you whatever snacks you wanted, ever the knight in shining armor. He really was a cutie, especially when got that embarrassed blush on his face hearing his roommate outside the door with the girls he brought back, or the constant EDM blasting from his room.

Midterms were coming up, and you were stressed. You were a high achiever, but studying for 5 classes was a lot to juggle. So of course you took up Art’s offer of a study/chill sesh at his dorm. You knocked, and he opened, wearing his red cap backward, another thing you thought was cute on him. You looked a little past him, noticing the silence. His roommate wasn’t there. Your eyes fell back on him and you noticed that this time he looked more… pensive. He looked tired, his lips looked bitten on. You chalked it up to the time of year. You probably looked out of sorts too. As he held the door and you brushed past him, though, you could feel his eyes on you, stalking you like prey.

You were sat on his bed, and the lack of technobeats in the background made the air feel heavy. Things were more quiet this time as you two once again went through the motions of flipping through flashcards detailing factors affecting political efficacy. It almost felt tense. You weren’t so sure his roommate’s absence was entirely at fault. At some point you put them down and sighed, slumping against the wall.

“I can’t do this anymore. I just wish midterms were over. I feel like I haven’t relaxed in weeks.”

He was still upright, looking at you keenly.

“Yeah. Me neither.”

He put his cards down without taking his eyes off of you.

“I need a distraction. Just for a little. I just wanna stop thinking.”

He huffed in agreement, then paused. Now he looked down. Started biting his lips again. He swallowed.

“I could…help you with that.”

Maybe you were reading too far into the tension in the room, but your mind quickly darted to something…uncivil. Your stomach jumped before you regained your composure. …He was cute. It’s not like in your horny hellscape of a university you hadn’t thought about it before. You had no time for a relationship that could relieve your frustrations, something your major was known for, and which you and your single friends complained about often. It was starting to take a toll. Still, you took the thought out of your head. You just had a dirty mind. That’s not what he meant. He was gonna pull playing cards out of his pocket or something. You laughed a little, lightly, cautiously.

“What do you mean?”

He looked back up, eyes shining, piercing. His face grave, like when you’d came in. It made you feel almost too seen…almost naked. Almost like your minds had gone to the same place.

His eyes went down again, landing on his fingertips, which you hadn’t noticed had reached the edge of your thigh. In fact, you couldn’t focus on much outside of your heart beating in your ears.

“I just…I’ve been really stressed too. Really busy. I mean, the way we all are. Too busy to…you know…” He trailed off a little, his eyes crinkling in an embarrassed huff, softening his features. “And…you know what a good stress reliever is?”

He was hesitant, but the question was rhetorical. The way he said it was enough to give the answer. Your peers talked about their sexual frustrations enough that you knew it was on their minds too.

It was so still that you feared he could hear your heart beating out of your chest. You both being on the same page had caught you off guard.

Your silence caused him to backtrack, trying to read your face. “I mean, we always talk about not having time for dating and wanting hookups and stuff… I just figured since we know each other we could…I don’t know…lend each other a hand.”

You could feel your face getting hot, giddiness rising inside you. Seeing the small smile on your face, and how you watched his fingertips on their trail up your thigh, he seemed to relax.

You felt cheeky. He was into you. “So you wanna help me out?”

“…please?” His eyes turned pleading. “No one’s here.” He said softly, suggestively.

Your face turned even hotter. He was right. You were alone. No one would hear him putting you through the mattress like you’d tried not to imagine before. God, you were getting ahead of yourself. You nodded. He pulled away from you, and the vacant space he left on your thigh felt cold. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he got off the bed, kneeling, and settled between your legs.

He gazed up at you, looking more puppy-like than ever, his wide, desirous eyes a question — a desperate plea.

“Let me?”

[trustmypoison]

Who in SVT would win No Nut November?

Genre: Suggestive (MDNI!), tiny bit of angst

A/N: All for fun, don’t take it too seriously.

13th place goes to Mingyu!

Yeah, it takes very little for him to throw the idea of winning out of the window. Like, I’m talking a single date the next day. He didn't even get a chance to tell you he was participating and doesn’t bother because he knows the moment he picks you up and sees what you’re wearing that he's probably losing tonight if you'll have him. He’s not even embarrassed to have lost so quickly either, even with the taunting that the other members do about it, because he’s free to do what he wants for the rest of the month. Trust that it will be mentioned to them just to rub it in. He might even let you mark him up a bit just as proof for him to show off.

12th place goes to Hoshi!

He tried. He really did. But it’s your fault. You kissed him! What was he supposed to do?? Not sweep you off your feet and straight to bed??? Another one that is not very embarrassed by this loss, mostly because he immediately regretted agreeing to it as soon as he realized that he’d have to keep his distance from you for a whole month. He won’t intentionally rub it in, but he’s been dreading the challenge and is kind of relieved to tap out and remain glued to your side. The PDA he can show you around his members is something he’ll come to enjoy.

11th place goes to Jun!

Would not change anything about how he behaves around you. You even ask how he’s going to win this challenge if he’s still all over you, and he just shrugs.  When things get heated during a movie night at home and you crawl into his lap, he totally forgets about the challenge. Afterwards, he has no qualms about simply texting ‘I'm out’ to the group chat. Totally unfazed by any teasing because it’s just not that serious. No amount of money on the table would make him stay away from you.

10th place goes to Seungcheol!

He’s decided that this month will be about you. It’s simply not an option to not do anything all month, and he does enjoy making you feel good. This will be his downfall, however. You sound and feel too good when he helps you out and it only takes walking away from you a few times before he’s giving in, pushing you into the nearest surface. He may pout in his typical fashion at his loss and the subsequent teasing, but like he could ever deny you anything and he’s long accepted that. 

9th place goes to Minghao!

Is sex the center of your relationship? No, of course not. But intimacy in general certainly is. He cares very little out of the challenge and has only gotten this far because you both have been busy. He probably didn’t even bother to tell you about the challenge but he has zero hesitations about forgetting about it all together when you two finally have an opportunity to spend some time together and the mood is right. He could never dream of denying you. Also totally unfazed by any teasing.

8th place goes to Chan!

Tries really, really, really hard. Definitely gave you the heads up about the challenge, but didn’t expect you to torture him the way you have. You’re pulling out your best outfits and doing your hair the way you know he likes, and even making offers to shower together after a long day with a suggestive look. This is what finally makes him snap and he’s throwing you over his shoulder to rush you to the bathroom to strip you and push you against the shower wall before the water is even warm. He might be a little apologetic about how intensely he came onto you afterwards, but he’s not sorry that he lost.

7th place goes to Seungkwan!

Tries really, really, really hard as well, almost to a fault. Within just a couple weeks he’s so grumpy that it’s nearly unbearable to be around him. It’s not like sex is something he can’t live without because how else could he get through a tour or traveling for work? But it’s different for you to be right there and he can’t have you. His bad mood actually leads to a heated argument and a little bit of silent treatment. After a couple silent dinners of watching you be dejected, he decides to apologize because the challenge isn’t even remotely as important as his relationship with you. This leads to some very sweet make-up sex and he’s kind of sorry he took the challenge in the first place. Won’t be doing that agian!!

6th place goes to Joshua!

Like Seungcheol, he thinks he’s got the right idea from the beginning. Just because he can't help himself at all doesn’t mean he can't help you. He enjoys making sure you feel good and is initally pretty strong in his denial when you ask if he needs any help. But there does come a point somewhere just before three weeks that he's reaching his breaking point. After he’s helped you out, he just snaps, crawling on top of you impatiently. You ask him about the challenge and he says he doesn't care anymore. Good enough for you.

5th place goes to Woozi!

Let’s be real. He's the epitome of a workaholic. He pours whatever frustration he’s feeling for the last few weeks into whatever he’s currently working on and it means some late nights in the studio. You don't think anything of it because this isn't unusual. What is unusal is him waking you up when he gets home late. He usually tries to avoid this because he doesn’t want his weird schedule to impact yours, but he’s desparate for your touch by the time he gets home. You give into his begging almost immediately, pulling him into bed to take care of him. Whatever teasing that might come his way is easily ignored the next day because his energy is renewed and he feels lighter. I don't think he’ll be agreeing to this kind of challenge again.

4th place goes to Seokmin!

Listen. It’s not really ever been all about sex with him anyway. Does he enjoy it? Of course!! Does he really need it to consider the relationship fulfilled? No!! He’s coasting until you get needy one night and wake him up. It’s a no-brainer to slip his hands under your clothes and help you out and when you offer to return the favor, of course he’s accepting. He did really miss how you good you make him feel, so he is pretty unfazed by sending the ‘I’m out’ message with a week to go.

3rd place goes to Wonwoo!

Talk about distractions galore. He’s stayed inexplicably busy most of the month by setting some outrageous goal in a video game he’s been working on so you’ve had a lot of time to yourself for the last three weeks and some-odd days. You knew he was participating and you'd just shrugged that off, but the lack of time spent together as a whole begins to upset you. It takes some time for him to realize you're icing him out, but when he realizes it he abandons the idea of winning immediately. He offers to make it up to you however you want and where ever you want, encouraging you to be creative about it. No request is too much now.

2nd place goes to Vernon!

Don’t get me wrong, this took some restraint. But Vernon is perhaps not the most direct when it comes to asking you for things anyway and he’s VERY good at disassociating. Or rather, he’s gotten very good at it in order to block out all of your attempts to lure him into bed. He’s been suspiciously tired for nearly the whole month and you have to straight up laugh at him when he cracks just two days before the end of the month, crawling on top of you on the couch during movie night. You didn’t even do anything to mess with him then, he’s just had enough. Second place is fine with him. 

1st place goes to Jeonghan!

I don’t think this surprises anyone. He’s perhaps the most determined to win, but that doesn’t mean it was easy. He’s usually the one to tease you, but he finds out pretty quickly that he doesn’t really like when roles are reversed if he can’t truly enjoy it. But you’d enjoy pushing him to his limits. Sometimes it’s subtle, like making a little peck last just a second too long to watch him chase your lips or wearing something you know he likes on you for date night. But sometimes, it’s not subtle at all, like requesting that he spoon you before bed just as an excuse to press up against him or intentionally wear fewer clothes around him at home claiming it’s too warm. He knows what you’re doing, but worry not. He’s not mad, but I hope you don’t have plans at midnight on December 1st, because he’s been workshopping some pretty creative things all month to celebrate his win.

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Zoro x Fem Reader Angst! Zoro is unconscious and S/O protects/drags Zoro while trying to escape the battlefield of marines and explosives. Zoro’s about to lose his life, but S/O sacrifices her arms to save him and his dream and get him to safety. When Zoro wakes up, he’s recovering and he learns what happens. He’s enraged at S/O and practically screams at her, saying unforgivable things to the point where S/O is crying. S/O avoids him until Zoro apologizes. S/O obtains new cybernetic arms.

Goodness gracious this is some angst. I LOVE IT.

Hah I wrote this when I was sad.

I have PTSD from an accident and I thought for a minute I lost my leg. I couldn't see it, and I knew that it takes time to register if you lost your leg. So. Yeah. This is kind of an outlet for that accident. Plus an outlet from my toxic relationships.

This takes place post-timeskip, with Law making an appearance as an ally.

MAJOR WARNING: THIS WILL (probably) TRAUMATIZE YOU. Reader will have PTSD, ANXIETY ATTACKS, AND BE VERBALLY ABUSED. But becomes besties with Franky so ya know... up to you.

TW's: BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP THIS IS ANGST, angst to eventual comfort, reader pukes from pain, gore, shame, insecurity, fights, verbal abuse (from s/o), punching a wall above reader's head, anxiety attacks, depression

Part 1: The Fights

Your head was spinning. This battle was a hell of a lot more than anyone on the crew thought it would be. Explosions were nearly constant, deafening you until all you could hear was buzzing. Vibrations from the ground and the air shook your body, and you could barely keep up with your enemies. Their surprise attack worked, and it worked damn well.

You finally got in a good blow to the marine, knocking him unconscious with your weapon. It was the last of the marine group that had recently swarmed you. You took a brief moment to take stock of the battlefield. Zoro was fighting a swarm of marines behind you. You knew that wouldn't be an issue, so your gaze continued to roam.

Luffy was on the rooftops fighting the stronger of the marines, getting further and further away from the group. You saw a random patch of thunder clouds in the distance, knowing that's where Nami was. You couldn't see Usopp, Robin, Franky, or Sanji anywhere. Brook and Chopper were still supposed to be watching the ship. A flash of movement caught your eye nearing Zoro. You had no idea what that weapon was exactly, but the marines seemed relieved, and that was a bad sign.

"Zoro!" you cried out desperately. Even your own voice was so muffled that you felt the vibration of your voice more than heard yourself. He couldn't hear you. You started running. Something felt dangerous about that weapon. It was about as big as a bazooka, but the ammo looked strange. All you could tell in the moment was that the marines nearby were carrying it with extra care.

"Zoro!" you called again. Nothing. Your legs burned as you sprinted towards the group of marines he was steadily working his way through. He was almost done. His back was towards you, and if he felt your presence, he probably thought you were running to back him up. The weapon was almost upon the two of you.

Just as you approached him, he finished off the last of the marines, knocking them out cold. He turned an eye towards you, the gleam and thrill of violence evident in gaze. You pointed desperately towards the weapon, knowing your expression held fear. He turned in the direction of it, grinning at the challenge. Something wasn't right about the weapon, but you trusted that he could take care of it.

The marines took aim. You readied yourself to dodge, to feel the heat and shockwave of the explosion. Zoro stood slightly in front of you, ready with all three of his swords, breathing heavily but evenly. He could cut anything. You watched as the marine pulled the trigger. Everything seemed to slow down. Your breaths, heart rate, and the aches and pains of the battle dialed to zero as your focus sharpened. The ammo was almost too bright to look at. Why was it already exploding? He couldn't cut-

Your body moved before your thought was completed. Standing in front of the swordsman, you used your weapon to bat away the explosive, redirecting it to the side. It didn't work. It already exploded. You shot backwards into Zoro as the force and heat from the explosion slammed into your arms and chest. The two of you flew backwards through multiple walls. You only remember feeling the jolt of the crash through Zoro's body more than twice before you blacked out. You think you came to pretty quick, and tried to reach towards him.

White-hot agony seared through your arms, and you couldn't tell if you screamed or not. You couldn't hear, not through the pain or through the ringing in your ears. You felt the ground vibrate as marines marched towards your prone bodies. The weapon. Shit.

The jolt of adrenaline made you stand, swaying as you nearly passed out or threw up from the pain. But you could do that later. Now, you just needed to get away. Your arms were useless. One was burning with pain, and the other was... gone.

You looked in shock at the stump where your arm used to be. It was gone. Your stomach lurched and bile rose in your throat as your gaze rose to see a familiar hand sticking out from under a rock. Blood saturated the ground around it. Burnt meat filled your nostrils. Your other arm hung uselessly by your side, burnt almost to the bone. You felt the vibrations through the ground getting stronger. You would die if you didn't leave, NOW.

Zoro was knocked out cold, a nasty gash on his temple. His chest was still rising and falling, luckily. With no other choice, you knelt to the ground, and gripped his coat with your teeth. You scooted back, hauling his weight. Your jaw and teeth ached with the effort, but you thanked whatever diety was out that that the burnt flesh of your arm was falling numb. Your reprieve was short lived. Agony flashed through the stump of your now-missing arm, causing you to scream. You tasted blood as your vocal chords ripped slightly with the sound.

But you continued moving, hauling his weight backwards with your teeth as marines rounded the corner. They were walking almost casually, evil grins on their faces at the horror they caused. fuck. They saw you immediately. The young marines blanched and vomited at your state, seeing you conscious with one burnt arm barely hanging onto your frame and the stump of the other bleeding profusely down your side, soaking your body in a brown-red. Honestly, the question as to how you were even still conscious hadn't crossed your mind. Until now. You staggered onto your knees, breathing heavily as you crouched in front of Zoro. You could get by without arms. Your dream could be accomplished without them. His couldn't. He needed to live, and he needed his body.

With the thought, you staggered to your feet, swaying dangerously.

"Oi Oi, that bitch is fucking rabid!" one marine called out. Your hearing must be coming back if you could hear the muffled comments of the men in front of you. The comment made you grin, and the men flinched. You knew you couldn't hold on much longer, so you did the only thing you could think of.

"LUUUFYYYY!!!! NAAAAMIIII!!! SANNNJIIIII!!!! USOOOP!!! ROBINNNN!!!! FRAAANNKYYYY!!!!" you screamed your crewmates names desperately. The effort of it sent you tumbling onto your knees. Darkness ringed your vision. You blinked, trying to focus your eyes. You thought you heard your name, but suddenly saw marines flying left and right. You knew somebody came to save you. You fell into blissful unconsciousness as you hit the ground.

~~~~~~~~

"...sure?....pain....medicine....arms....injuries..." voices faded in and out as you slowly came to. You were so hungry. Or were you nauseous? Oh fuck. Yeah you were nauseous.

"gonna puke" you mutter. Hands helped you sit up and you immediately puked your guts up with the new position. Luckily there was a bucket held under you already. More hands held your hair back. You spat out the final wave and went to wipe a hand over your clammy forehead. Nothing happened. A straw prodded your lips slightly.

"Here. Rinse your mouth out."

You recognized Chopper's voice and did as you were told. Your eyes cracked open slightly and you winced at the light. If you hadn't just puked, you would've just then.

"brigh'" you slurred. The lights dimmed almost immediately. Someone eased you back down on the bed, and you moaned with the wave of dizziness that accompanied it.

"Zoro?"

"He's fine. He's healing and resting now, thanks to you" Chopper spoke quietly. Your throat burned, and you swallowed.

"Go back to sleep. You need the rest"

~~~~~~

The second time you woke up, you managed not to puke. You were definitely drugged, and you panicked for a second before your eyes landed on Chopper. He glanced around at the sound of your shifting and did a double take when he saw your open eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're awake finally" he said. You grunted, unable to coherently form a sentence in your state. Memories flickered into your mind, and you went to sit up, but blinding white hot agony forced you back on the bed with a strangled scream.

"Hey don't move!" Chopper chided. He still kept his voice low. Tears flowed down the sides of your face towards your ears.

"Chopper" you whispered hoarsely. You started sobbing uncontrollably. It hurt so much. You lost your arms. You lost both your arms. I don't have arms anymore.

He came forward, shushing you and smoothing a hoof over your forehead.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're going to be okay."

"Zoro? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. He's already training"

You sniffled. You wanted to wipe away your tears, and the thought that you couldn't sent you into panicked sobs.

"I lost them Chopper. Please. I can't. I can't do it. It hurts so much. I'll only- Luffy will kick me off. I can't. I don't have anywhere to go" you rambled in your panic. Chopper looked at you with growing concern as you spoke, breaths heaving faster and faster. He suddenly fiddled with your IV, and he looked at you apologetically as you drifted into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~

You awoke the third time for good. Sunlight streamed into the infirmary through the small window, and you could hear muffled sounds of the group eating in the dining area. You groaned. Your whole chest, shoulders, and arms hurt. Down to your fingers. You tried to wiggle them, but nothing happened. You looked down at your arms. You were tucked into blankets on a cot that was angled so you weren't completely flat. You could see the outline of your shoulder, but halfway down your bicep, the blanket fell flat. Memories slammed into you. Your gaze whipped to the other arm. Only about an inch of your arm was left if you measured from your armpit.

You let your head fall back, tears tracking heated trails down your face. You tried to breathe, but everything hurt. At least Zoro is okay you thought. His dream could still happen, and he was alive. That's all you could ask for. The door to the infirmary creaked open, and you let your gaze fall to it. Sanji. He immediately backed out and called to the doctor.

"Oi Chopper! She's awake!"

Loud clamoring from trying to wrangle the suddenly very excited Luffy made a bolt of sharp pain stab through your head. You flinched, leading to more pain echoing down your chest and shoulders, and your phantom arms.

Chopper came in. Zoro followed, and you sighed a breath of relief at the sight of your healthy lover. A third, large frame squeezed into the infirmary. Franky. You were surprised to see him, but happy too. Looking at him, you suddenly remembered he basically rebuilt himself. He's been where you are now. A silent bond formed when he grinned at you, tears brimming his eyes. You smiled back slightly. You let your gaze fall back onto Zoro, taking in his form as Chopper checked you over. It distracted you.

By doing this, however, you didn't miss his dark expression as the reindeer peeled back your blankets down to your waist to check your vitals.

"Zoro..." you started. Your voice sounded hoarse. Zoro didn't move. He stared at your injuries, fury taking over his features. Franky moved forward, retrieving a nearby cup with a straw for you to sip some water. He held it up to your lips and you sipped gratefully. His frame blocked you from Zoro. Franky moved back, and all you heard was a door slam shut. Zoro was gone.

You blinked in confusion. Did he...? Why? Shock must've been written on your face, because Chopper spoke up.

"He's just... struggling to comprehend you got so badly injured while protecting him."

Franky nodded.

"It can hurt a man's pride, but it would've hurt his pride worse if he couldn't continue his dream. You saved his life, and his dream. Just let him be."

You sighed, nodding. You really wanted affection during this hard time. You just wanted him to say that he still loved you and that everything was going to be okay. But he couldn't. Was that selfish of you to want that?

"So. How bad is it?" you ask quietly. Franky sat on the bed by your ankles, putting one heavy hand on it.

"Before you know the details... You should know that you're not alone in this. I've been where you are... well... kinda. But once you're ready mentally and physically, I can build you new arms. We can work together on what you want, and even add some fun things to them. But you're not alone. Luffy would never kick you off his crew, especially when you sacrificed so much for another one of us. The only reason we held him back from coming in here is because he'd probably be too rough hugging you. And Zoro... he won't admit it but he's traumatized. He woke up while we were carrying the two of you back to the ship and thought you were dead. He saw your arm in the rubble. He threw up and wouldn't let anyone else carry you back to the ship."

You let the words wash over you. Your mind was lagging from the drugs but you understood the message. You finally nodded once your understanding clicked into place. You turned to Chopper, suddenly grateful for Franky's solid presence.

"So? How bad is it?"

Chopper roughly brushed away his tears before he clinically gave you the news.

"The bomb was a prototype, something that the Navy hopes to build on a large scale. It was designed to explode right before impact to stop pirates from knocking away the ammunition. It was the angle of your arm as you went to hit the ammo that protected the rest of your body from significant harm. The arm that was burnt off took most of the impact. You lost the other from shrapnel as you were thrown through walls. You have a cracked sternum and some broken ribs from the shockwave, and you had a slight concussion. Your vocal chords were damaged slightly as well, but those should heal soon."

You took the news numbly. It was like it was a horrific list of injuries that happened to someone else.

"I'm afraid I have to ask now though... do you remember it?"

You nodded silently.

"All of it?"

"Every second I was conscious. I know I blacked out when we were thrown through a wall, so I didn't feel my arms until I woke up after that. Saw my arm under a rock, soaking the ground with my blood. I wanted to throw up but I didn't have the time. I smelled my arm burning, then I felt it. The marines were coming. So I tried to drag Zoro with my teeth to get away, but I was too slow. My burnt arm was going numb but my missing one suddenly... I felt it. I stood up, and I remember thinking that I can get by without arms. He can't reach his dream without his, and I protected his body. I remember a marine saying that I was a rabid bitch, so I smiled at them, then called your names before I passed out from blood loss."

Bile rose in your throat as you recalled the memories. You gagged, and you felt your shoulder move as you instinctively went to slap a hand over your mouth. Chopper shoved a bedpan under your mouth and you threw up the water you just drank. Franky held back your hair and shushed you.

"Hey hey, don't push it. You're safe now. You're on board the Sunny, in Chopper's infirmary. Our captain is Monkey D. Luffy, and he's going to be the pirate king. Our cook is Sanji, Usopp is our sniper, Robin is an archeologist, and Nami is our navigator. Luffy likes meat, Sanji loves cooking, Usopp likes playing pranks on people, Robin likes coffee, and Nami likes tangerines. You with me? Breathe for me. In- one, two, three, four. Hold- one, two three, four. Out- one, two three, four.... you with me?"

Your shuddering breaths eased with Franky's help. You looked at him with teary eyes.

"Why do I still feel them? Why do my arms still hurt but they're not there?"

Chopper piped up quietly.

"The nerves are still getting used to what's left of your arms. Your brain has to rewire itself to accommodate this change, and it takes time. But Franky and I will both work to get you some new arms, as soon as you're ready, okay?"

Franky nodded. "It's called phantom limb pain commonly. I had it while I was healing after getting destroyed by the sea train, but it was easy to adapt when I rebuilt myself. It... it's terrible. It's going to mess with your head and bring up memories of the incident. It's going to ache and hurt like a bitch some days. I found for me, distracting myself helps."

You were quiet, staring at the blankets. You felt exhausted. It was too much to take in at once.

"Okay" you muttered. You yawned, and Franky stood. Chopper soothed some stray hair back from your forehead.

"Get some rest. You need to heal" he said. You nodded.

"Can... Can someone stay? I don't wanna be alone" you mumbled. Franky smiled at you before turning his gaze to the reindeer, jerking his head towards the door.

"Go finish eating. I'm full. Everyone will want an update too, and you can answer their questions better."

Chopper hesitated, but left once you nodded once at him.

"I'll be back soon"

You faded off to sleep before the door even opened.

~~~~~~~~

(TW- OOC Zoro verbally abusing reader, slight ooc Luffy and Sanji)

"oi."

The voice wriggled its way into your dreamless sleep, drawing your attention but not quite waking you up.

"Oi"

The voice was louder. Familiar. Something shook your leg slightly, and you sighed as you rose from your slumber, blinking open your eyes with a hum. Your gaze landed on green hair and a muscled frame.

"Zoro?" you asked, voice slurred with sleep. Pain shot down your torso as you tried to rub your eyes, and the full force of the memory of the trauma resurfaced like a knife to the gut.

You didn't have arms.

You whined, but were too exhausted to cry or panic again.

"Why did you do it?" His voice was harsh, spitting the words like they were venom.

"huh?"

"Why. Did. You. Do. It." The grip on your knee tightened slightly with each word until it was sure to leave marks. Your heart sank in fright and confusion.

"Zoro... your han-"

"Answer me!" His grip thrashed your leg around, jostling you on the bed. You cried out in pain.

"W-why did I d-do what Zoro?!" you asked, stuttering from fear and pain.

"You lost your arms to save me. Why?!"

"That-that's not really what happened. One got caught in the explosion and the other got cut off when I was thrown through a wall. I swear-"

"Don't play dumb with me, bitch. I don't need saving." His grip turned lethal on your knee, and it felt like he was considering crushing the bone. You hissed and whined in pain. This had to be a nightmare- your Zoro wouldn't act like this. Right?

"Your little act of heroism is keeping me awake. I can't sleep until I know why. So TELL ME!" he yelled the last words, his sharp tone echoing dully off the wooden walls.

Your heart shattered. He was... blaming you? Because he couldn't sleep? While you had saved his life and had lost your arms?

"I-I... Zoro I don't know what you want me to say. Losing my arms was an accident, and you were knocked unconscious so stood in front of your body. I wasn't really thinking I gue-"

'YOU WEREN'T THINKING?! WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? YOU THINK I'M TOO FUCKING WEAK TO DEFEND MYSELF HUH?" He shoved off his seat, jostling your body a final time.

He drove a fist through the wall over your head, and you screamed.

The door to the infirmary slammed open, revealing Luffy and Sanji. Zoro didn't even look. He leaned over you, pinning you with his gaze.

"You weak, pathetic piece of shit! I never should've dated you. I never would've if I knew you would turn out like this! Losing your arms to a wall? I would've rather the bomb hit me and died than ever see a sight as ugly and pitiful as you are now! You stupid-"

"ZORO!"

Luffy finally found his voice through the shock of his first mate verbally abusing you like this. Anger rolled off his body in waves, and Sanji was still rooted with angry shock.

Luffy grabbed Zoro by the back of his head with his stretchy hand and hauled him out of the room. You were shaking, shocked and hurt by the words that just flew from the lips of the man you love. Chopper suddenly trotted up to your bedside, looking incredibly worried.

"Hey it's okay. You're okay. You're not weak or pathetic at all. You're severely injured but you're alive, okay? That makes you so, so strong. I promise"

You hardly heard Chopper's attempt at soothing you, staring at the doorway Luffy had dragged your boyfriend through. You turned your head to look at the hole in the wood above your head. Drops of blood dripped down the wall slowly.

"Uh-uhm. He-he's hur-hurt. You'd be-better go check o-on him" you breathed shakily.

"He'll be fine" a smooth voice answered. A handkerchief wiped your cheeks of tears you didn't even know you'd shed. Sanji smoothed hair back from your face gently.

"You sacrificed so much for this crew, you will never be weak. Don't let that fucking idiot take that away from you." A finger tilted your chin up slightly, but you turned your head, slipping from his grip.

"Look at me, darling."

You shook your head slightly. Sanji sighed, and tried again. You could feel Chopper checking your wounds to see if any had opened with the rough treatment from earlier.

"Please. Look at me" he begged, sounding close to tears. You finally looked up, meeting his gaze. A small smile quirked up the ends of his lips.

"There she is. You're so strong, beautiful, and kind. You are in no way pathetic or weak for what was done to you. Okay?"

Tears pooled in your eyes, pain from your broken heart and your injuries constricting your chest.

"Are you in pain?" Chopper asked. You nodded.

"I love him, but I think he just broke me a little."

Chopper glanced at Sanji, who was obviously trying to tamp down his rage at the swordsman. He held out a shaking hand, giving the handkerchief to Chopper now that he was done checking your injuries. The doctor accepted, giving Sanji a nod.

"I'll stay with her. Go."

"I owe you one" Sanji replied before walking out the door. As the door opened, you heard yelling and a clashing of metal, but it was closed quickly and gently.

"Your wound's didn't open again but it was close. It must've hurt." Chopper said gently. He wiped the handkerchief gently over your cheeks and under your nose.

"Do you want more pain medicine? You'll go right back to sleep. You can rest now that Luffy and Sanji are... taking care of Zoro."

You hesitated. There was one person that had been so calming during this whole incident.

"Can... can Franky sleep here too? I'd feel better if he'd be here when I woke up"

"Of course. Let me go get him really quick!" Chopper trotted out the door, allowing the sounds of more shouting to reach your ears. The door opened hardly a minute later, Franky's large frame entering the room.

"Yeow! You called?" he said, cheerful as ever. It brought a small smile to your face.

"I just wanted to be near you. You... get it" you said simply. Franky nodded, plopping his ass right in front of the door.

"Nobody is getting past me unless you're okay with it. Got it? Now sleep. You need it." He said gently. Chopper moved to your IV, and with a nod from you, raised the dosage slightly. Sleep took you quickly.

~~~~~~~~

You roused with a bright light shining on your face, and you groaned lightly, turning your face away. A tired sigh passed through your nostrils. You heard loud snores nearby, and your brow furrowed lightly in confusion before recognizing them as Franky's. The mattress dipped slightly and you heard Chopper's small grunt of effort hauling himself up on the bed. Pain stabbed through your chest and shoulders, but it was manageable for now.

"are you awake?" he whispered. You hummed.

"Too bright." you murmured. His weight disappeared from the bed and the sound of a curtain drawing made your ears perk up. Your eyes blinked open tiredly, focusing on the ceiling.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mmm... Okay I guess."

"How's the pain level?"

"Less than yesterday."

"Good. You're healing fairly quick."

You let out a non-committal grunt at Chopper's optimistic observation. You just felt... Numb? Cold? Disheartened? Trying to name the emotions brought back the memory of Zoro's words last night.

Pathetic.

Ugly.

He'd rather die than date me like this.

Stupid.

You turned your head slightly away from Chopper, letting him examine you. Franky's snores had stopped sometime during your brief exchange with the doctor, and you heard a loud yawn as he woke.

"How ya doin kiddo?"

You simply hummed, letting Chopper answer for you.

"Her wounds are healing rather quick. I think the cybernetic arms can be attached soon, if the two of you figure out the design."

Your heart sped up at the thought of more pain and surgery, breaths quickening. Franky seemed to immediately catch on.

"There's a way to do it when it's fully healed too, so don't worry too much about the time. We'll do them whenever she- you're- ready." He directed his last sentence towards you, letting you in on the conversation. You didn't react.

"Can I have some water?" your voice was still raspy from waking up. Franky brought a straw up to your lips and you sipped some stale water.

"Are you hungry?" Chopper asked. You shook your head slightly. You just wanted to sleep, to escape this reality. The reality where you lost. Lost your arms. Lost the man you love.

"I know you may not be up for much at all, but almost everyone is going to take turns keeping you company, got it? We're here for ya." Franky gently smoothed a stray lock of hair from your face. You heard the message between the lines: "we'll keep you safe from Zoro". You blinked listlessly, wishing your body would let you go back to sleep.

"What happened to him?" you asked quietly. The energy in the room became charged, and you could tell both Franky and Chopper were hesitant to speak about Zoro's outburst with you.

"He fought Luffy and Sanji, and even tried to fight Nami and Robin but Robin pinned him down. Luffy got through to him... eventually"

"but it's still my fault" The whisper left your lips mindlessly. Franky knelt next to the bed, making sure his face was in your line of sight.

"Nothing like this is ever your fault. You love someone enough to unthinkingly put yourself in a situation where your body is destroyed, and yet you lived. You're alive. You're part of our crew, no matter what. You're our family, and this family is our home."

Tears burned your throat and budded in your eyes.

"Franky... I'm so lost."

"I know, kiddo. But I promise, we'll help you find your way again. You're safe with us, and loved by all of us."

"Not Zoro though."

"... I can't tell you if he loves you in the same way, but he will protect you because you're our family, okay?"

You blinked, letting the tears track wet trails down your face.

"Can you talk to me about your ideas for my arms?"

A broad smile split his face, and he pulled up a stool to regale you with his ideas.

~~~~~~~~

A week passed. A humiliating, helpless week of staying in bed and asking for things. You didn't see Zoro, nor did you ask to see him. You asked if he was alright, but that was it. The crew spent hours with you at a time. Nami chatted about gossip and fashion magazines, Robin read books aloud to you in her soothing voice, Sanji talked to you about interesting cooking techniques as he fed you every meal, Usopp told tall tales, Brook played soft music and told you of adventures with his old crew, and Luffy talked about beetles and animals he or napped with you. Chopper was in and out of the room through the day, checking on you while he kept you company.

You were numb and listless for days, until a stupid story from Usopp made your lips twitch into a smile. He milked the joke and story until you were giggling softly, and some stress seemed to lift from the crew's shoulders later in the day. Franky kept bringing you ideas and fabricated bits of that would become your cybernetic arms, easing you into the idea of them. The first few times he brought them in, you'd panicked, only able to feel the pain and the burn of losing them. He walked you through breathing and grounding yourself, his voice calm and soft.

You stopped asking about Zoro after the first week. He obviously only saw you as pathetic, ugly, and stupid, so why bother burdening him with your concern? It was Robin who brought him up again, having noticed your lack of curiosity.

"Zoro's been training all day, every day for over a week now. He'll only eat meals so he doesn't have to deal with Sanji's nagging and only sleeps when he's not on night watch. I'm almost concerned for him" she said casually. You hummed in response, looking away from her as you kept your expression neutral.

"Not much anyone can do about that" you replied. She dropped the subject.

Another week passed with you falling into bouts of depression and hopelessness between distractions that captured your attention completely. Your pain had fallen to a level of an aching that seeped deep into your soul to the point where you couldn't tell where your physical pain and your depression divided. Franky and Chopper were your saving grace, with Sanji offering heartfelt messages of support. One afternoon, Chopper and Franky finally approached you, cautiously excited. You blinked at their odd behavior.

"What is it?" you asked tiredly. The duo traded glances before Franky spoke.

"Remember how we're allied with the Heart Pirates?" he began. You nodded slowly, your body still protesting from the movement.

"Do you remember their captain?"

"Yeah? Trafalgar Law- the Surgeon of Death... where are you going with this?"

Chopper piped up.

"I told him about your case. He told me that due to his ability, the surgery for your arms could potentially be exponentially less painful than doing it the way Franky and I would." he said, a little sheepish that he had told another doctor about you.

You furrowed your brow. You didn't like the word "potentially".

"Potentially?" you echoed. Chopper nodded.

"Nothing in medicine is exactly a given or a 100% chance. But he said it's likely to be much less painful if he were to use his ability to do the surgery."

You sighed, overwhelmed with the news. You felt exhausted already.

"When is he coming?" you asked. Franky answered your question.

"His sub'll be here tomorrow. The surgery itself won't happen tomorrow, because he needs time to familiarize himself with your injuries and the arms I made, but he'll talk to you about doing it. If you don't want it to happen that way, you don't really need to, but it'll be a lot better for everyone if you do, including yourself."

You viciously pushed away the thought that everyone seemed to know better than you now that you'd gone and done something stupid. You knew what they said made sense, and honestly you just wanted the arms attached finally. You puffed out a sigh, sitting up and wiggling your hips to ease the numbness in your legs.

"I'll talk to him about it" you finally replied. Chopper smiled widely with a giggle and Franky shouted his iconic "SUUUPERRRRRR" as he clashed his arms together in his dumb pose. It made you smile a bit. There was a quiet knock on the door that lead to the deck, distracting you from the pair's antics.

"Come in!" you called. You fully expected it to be Usopp or Robin, as Nami had kept you company this morning. Sanji would've knocked from the kitchen and the others simply didn't care about knocking. The door didn't open right away, and Chopper made his way over to open it. When you saw who was on the other side, your breath was punched out of your lungs, and you stared with eyes widened in shock.

"Zoro!" Chopper called happily before he seemed to remember what had happened. The swordsman's gaze met yours, and he immediately looked away. His previous words pierced your heart again.

Pathetic. Ugly. Weak. He'd rather die than date someone who's like this.

Franky jumped into action, standing in front of you protectively and blocking your view of Zoro.

"What are you doing here?" He asked evenly. You heard feet shuffle and his scabbards clank together as your new visitor shifted uncomfortably.

"I wanna talk to her" Zoro replied in a gruff voice. Franky looked back and down at you. His hulking figure felt protective, like an older brother. You thought for a second. You were tired, but knew if you didn't hear what he had to say, you wouldn't be able to sleep.

"Let him in. But stay right outside, and leave the door cracked open" you ordered. You knew your lack of trust in him would hurt Zoro, but you didn't want to take any chances. Not again.

Franky traded places with the swordsman, and you heard the door's latch tap the frame before you settled yourself to look at your new visitor.

"What do you need?" you asked flatly.

He stood there, fiddling with his sword handles as he looked down at the floor.

"I... wanted to... apologize." He finally spat out. One hand was gripping his white sword handle.

"You wanted to?" you echoed, somewhat surprised. His jaw tightened, tanned skin rippling lightly by his temple.

"I... Luffy said I needed to"

Disappointment and sadness pierced your gut like a spear of ice.

"Oh. Thanks I guess." you said. You couldn't hide the harsh bitterness in your voice, making your words sound sarcastic and angry. Zoro's expression darkened in anger.

"I'm trying to apologize! Isn't that enough?!"

White hot fury ripped through you, burning your filter to ashes. The pain caused by his words, his attitude, for scaring you by punching the wall over your head, for yelling at you, and for his lack of affection and love during the scariest time in your life so far reared its head.

"I WANT YOU TO APOLOGIZE WHEN YOU MEAN IT, ZORO! NOT BECAUSE YOU WERE ORDERED TO!"

The door slammed open, and Franky entered, dragging the writhing swordsman out of the room as he yelled to be let go. The door shut quickly behind them, Chopper quickly bounding to your bedside as you sat there, shaking.

"Breathe for me, okay? I'm right here. You're safe." Chopper's voice brought a sense of calm familiarity to your spinning mind, slowing it slightly. You wanted to reach out to him, to pet his fur or feel the hardness of his cloven hooves. But your couldn't. Tears from panic blurred your vision, knowing you'd never be able to feel things the same way again. The warmth of his skin, the touch of his callouses between your fingers or tracing patterns on your arms, or the softness of his hair.

"I can't touch you" is what tumbled out of your mouth. Chopper moved forward, nuzzling your cheek with his own, wiping away the tears with his fur. He hugged your neck gently, breathing deeply so you could follow his example. You let him ease you into a better state of mind, smelling his fur and feeling how soft it was on your cheeks and neck.

You heard angry yelling outside, but you were so tired of the emotion that it just washed over you as you calmed yourself with Chopper's help. Eventually your rage faded into numbness, and you laid back on the bed with Chopper cuddling your side.

"Hey... when do you think I can walk again?" you murmured into the quiet of the room. Chopper shifted, looking up at you as he hummed.

"Whenever you feel ready. It will likely hurt because you'll want to move your arms for balance, but maybe we can put a chair outside the door so you can get some sun and fresh air?"

It was your turn to hum in thought.

"I like that idea, but I'm not ready to see Zoro again."

You flinched as a crash shook the entire ship, and more yelling accompanied the commotion. Chopper looked worriedly towards the door.

"Maybe tomorrow then?"

Tears welled in your eyes suddenly, and you felt stupid for crying. The adrenaline from the anger had dissipated by this point, and you could only feel hurt at what Zoro had said. You couldn't believe that the man you at one point fell in love with had said those things. That he was only apologizing because Luffy said he needed to.

I really am pathetic.

You sniffed, alerting the fluffy doctor to your tears. He quickly hopped off the bed and returned with a few tissues. You tried to send him a weak smile, but failed as your jaw clenched with raw emotion. You cried for about a half hour, tears falling continually as you swallowed sobs. You looked listlessly at the ceiling, recalling all the good times you had with him. The laughs, watching each other's backs in fights, the peaceful times stargazing with him, even when he made love to you. He was so kind and soft towards you, treating you like you were precious. Were you worthless now that you had lost your arms?

Your tears finally stopped, and you heard a light knock on the door leading to the kitchen. Sanji. Chopper called for him to come in. You couldn't bring yourself to even move, let alone speak.

"I brought some chocolate covered fruits for the lady" he said gently. You swallowed back a fresh wave of tears. Why do I deserve to be treated so kind? Zoro's made it plenty clear that I shouldn't be.

"Thanks Sanji!" Chopper chirped, eyeing the food. The cook smiled, pulling out another plate behind his back for the doctor. Chopper's victorious and excited laugh made your lips twitch upwards and Sanji grinned in delight at the little reindeer. You heard him munching on his snack while humming at the delicious taste. Sanji approached you, sitting on the chair that had be almost constantly occupied by your various crewmates through the week- all except one.

You turned your gaze away from the chef, studying the now very familiar swirls of the wood on the ceiling above you.

"Hungry?" he asked. You could see him holding up a piece of chocolate covered fruit out of the corner of your eye, and you sighed.

"You can feed it to Luffy" you said quietly. You could tell Sanji's smile dimmed significantly at your answer, but he tried again.

"Luffy has his own. You need to keep your strength up."

"I'm not hungry"

He put the plate on the nearby table and leaned his elbows on his knees, holding his chin in one hand and let the other relax onto the bed. You wished you could hold it. Just to feel something. You looked the opposite way from him until he was completely out of your perhephial.

"Are you really not hungry or do you believe you're not worthy of such food other than the bare minimum to keep you alive?" he questioned. You could feel Chopper staring at you, waiting for your answer. You shut your eyes. Sanji sighed.

"Chopper, do you mind letting her and I talk alone?" he asked quietly. The doctor must have nodded, because you heard his hooves on the wood before he opened and closed the door.

"We're alone. Do you want to answer now?" he asked gently. You opened your eyes.

"No. I don't want to answer" you tried. Sanji hummed under his breath.

"Look at me, at least" he commanded gently. You prepared yourself, sighing as you let your head flop over so you could look at his face.

"There you are" he smiled. You furrowed your brows in a sad frown, fighting back tears.

"Why is he acting like... this?" you asked quietly. Sanji tried to anger at the mention of the swordsman, but failed to keep the glint out of his eye.

"Men are... complicated. They're often not in touch with their emotions like yours truly, so they can't put a name to what they're feeling. Fear and terror are supposed to be expressed as anger, loyalty means to fight for someone instead of to be by their side through thick and thin, and anger itself is supposed to be expressed through violence. That's how men are supposed to be. That's how Zoro is. He's got the emotional intelligence of a rock. He was terrified of losing you, and ashamed he got knocked out because he didn't listen to your advice to run, which resulted in you losing your arms while you protected him. He feels guilty, terrified, and helpless whenever he sees you, but the only way he can express that is anger directed at you" he explained. You looked at him in wonder. All through this you hadn't wondered how Zoro might feel, but rather wondered why he was acting out at you.

Tears welled up yet again. Sanji looked at you in fearful concern.

"Hey hey, shhhhh you did nothing wrong. He should've told you, but he hasn't even been able to identify the emotions. He needs to find out for himself, or it won't be genuine when he does apologize to you."

You sniffed, stuttering out words around your sobs.

"B-but I-I should-d-d've known-n-n. I sh-should've thought! He's right! I-I'm path-thetic an-and ugly an-nd weak! How c-could he l-love s-s-some-one like me?"

Sanji soothed hair back from your face, tracing the curve of your eyebrow soothingly.

"Ah my dear. You are none of those things. How could you be? You are the exact opposite of pathetic and weak if you are on this crew, and you are beautiful enough to catch the eye of the stoic swordsman, as idiotic as he is. You protected someone you love, and yes, you lost part of you because of that, but you gained so much more. Our respect and love for you as our precious crewmate has only multiplied. We were brought face to face with what life without you would be like, and it only brought us sorrow. Please, my dear. You are incredible. Stunning. Strong. Trust me when I say he thinks the same."

You looked at him, lips parted with shock from his words.

"You promise?"

"I promise you that if he doesn't think that, then I will never cook for him again" he said, smiling gently. You sniffed.

"I... I don't know if I can... well..." you mumbled. Sanji caught onto what you were trying to say.

"Nobody is asking you or expecting you to forgive him for the things he said. Nobody is even asking you to love him the same way again, just to accept him as your fellow crewmate and friend. In fact, I think what he said was completely unforgivable with you in any state, let alone going through a time when you needed his affection." Anger colored his voice in the last sentence, but you knew he was right. It was unforgivable to you, at the very least right now. You sighed. All these emotions were making you crave something sweet.

As if he could read your mind, Sanji reached over to the plate he brought in earlier, and held up a piece of fruit to your lips with a smile. You took it, knowing that eventually, somehow and at some time, you would be okay.

[ro-is-struggling]

Let Me Help || Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You, Steve and Bucky have been friends since childhood, always there for each other in the important parts of each other's lives. However, it was undeniable that what you three shared was more than a friendship, even if you refused to admit it. That was until one night you gave in to your desires and started a secret friends with benefits relationship with Bucky. The problem was that you also liked Steve. So when you woke up next to him one morning, feeling his hard on pressed against your ass you couldn't resist your urges to help him. 

Warnings: Set in the 40s (just cause I imagined this with pre-serum steve), SMUT MINORS DNI, inexperienced!steve x softdom!reader, somnophilia kinda so dubcon maybe? (Steve is asleep and the reader rubs against him), handjob, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good boy), there's literally no plot just smut ;)

English is not my first language

Word count: 2900

READ PART 2 HERE

You awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting in through the crack in the door, announcing that a new day had begun. You stretched out in bed, slowly waking up your muscles as you gathered the strength to get out of bed. You were comfortable and warm which made the task of opening your eyes that much more difficult. However, when you heard a grunt behind you your eyes opened immediately. It took you a few seconds to adjust your gaze to the morning light as rays of sunlight slipped through the slits in the blinds, but eventually you realized that you were not in your room and this was not your bed. 

You remembered then that Bucky, Steve and you had stayed up late talking and you realized that at some point you had fallen asleep in Steve's bed. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened. You three were close friends and you tended to sneak into your friends' beds in the middle of the night more often than you'd like to admit. 

What was new, however, was the firm bulge you felt pressing against your butt.

At first you weren't sure what you were feeling —maybe there was something in the bed or maybe it was just Steve's bony leg that was making you confused—, so you subtly pushed your ass back to try to figure out what was going on. Then Steve's arm pressed against your waist, drawing you closer to him as he let out a breathy gasp. That told you two things. First, Steve was definitely pressing his hard cock against your ass. And second, he was fast asleep. You knew that if he were awake he wouldn't be pressing himself on you like that, he was too shy for that. He'd probably be apologizing, stumbling over his words as his cheeks reddened.

You couldn't deny the tingling you felt in your stomach, blood traveling to your little bundle of nerves as you felt Steve pressed against your back. You couldn't help but feel a little bad for him, you knew how much he needed some relief even though he denied it. He didn't have much luck with women —which is something you'd never understand, he was a wonderful man—, and he was too proud to admit that his hand wasn't satisfying him as it should. The walls of the small apartment you shared were thin and you could hear his moans of frustration as he tried to relieve himself. You knew he craved the warm touch of a woman and you wanted to give it to him —God knew how much you wanted it—, but you knew he wouldn't let you, too concerned about ruining your friendship over something as dumb as his sexual frustration.

But now that he was asleep he had no way to object and you couldn't help but press yourself against him once more, feeling his cock twitch through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. His grip on your waist tightened and you had to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a moan as Steve grinded his hips against you, awakening a fire inside you that would be hard to extinguish. 

You tried to be careful with your movements, creating enough friction to slowly bring him closer to the edge, but not enough to wake him up. You wanted to know how far you could push him before he woke up, wondering if you could make him cum in his pants while he slept. The very thought of that made you feel powerful, as if you were Aphrodite herself and he a mere mortal surrendered at your feet. Suddenly you were determined to give him the relief he so desperately needed. 

However, before you could accomplish your task, a loud noise coming from the kitchen echoed throughout the apartment. You stopped your movements, your body stiffening as you strained your ears for any sign that Steve was still asleep. You prayed to god that he was, even though you knew it was highly unlikely. 

"Good morning to you too, Buck." He muttered under his breath, annoyed at his friend for waking him up. You stood still for a few seconds, waiting for him to pull away from you immediately, embarrassed by the situation you were in. You were ready to pretend that nothing had happened, however, when he didn't move you couldn't help but giggle. It was as if his mind, still clouded by sleep, was unable to register the tent in his pants.

"Good morning, Stevie." You greeted him in an amused tone. "I'm glad to know that you're happy to wake up next to me." You teased him. He frowned in confusion, but then you wiggled your hips and he understood with horror what you were referring to.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, darling, shit, I didn't mean to-" Steve panicked, pulling away from you as far as he could without falling off the bed. You interrupted his nervous rambling with a laugh, finally turning to look at him. He was as red as you imagined, looking at you with wide eyes full of embarrassment.

"It's okay, Steve. I don't mind." You tried to calm him down, letting one of your hands rest on his shoulder, stroking its way down to his chest. "It's a completely normal reaction of your body, I'm not mad."

"I know, but still, it must be really uncomfortable for you. I- I'm sorry, let me go to the bathroom to... I- just wait."  Steve tried to excuse himself to get out of there, but before he could get up you put pressure on his chest with your hand, using your free one to support your head as you looked down at him.

"I can help you with it, if you want." Your voice was low and seductive, barely a whisper that had Steve wondering if he had heard you correctly. It couldn't be, it had to be some kind of hallucination or part of a very realistic lucid dream. "You need some relief, baby, I know... I've heard you late at night, whimpering in frustration cause you can't get there. Your hands are not enough anymore, aren't they? You need more and I can give it to you."

"B-but what, umm, what about our, umm, our friendship?" Steve struggled to form a coherent sentence, overwhelmed by your words and the effect they were having on his body. His cock throbbed in his pants at the very thought of feeling your hands on his body, god knew he had fantasized about it many times in the past, but he couldn't let his arousal ruin your friendship. He loved you too much and he couldn't lose you. "W-wouldn't it be weird for us to... do... it?" he added, trying not to lose himself in the tingling that the gentle caresses your fingers provided on his chest awakened.

"It doesn't have to be weird. Think about it as me doing you a favor, as friends, just like that kiss, remember?" Of course he remembered! It had been his first kiss. He was tired of waiting for the right girl to find out what it felt like to be kissed, and after discovering that you had asked Bucky to be your first kiss as a favor between friends, he had done the same with you. You had been able to continue being friends after that, although he had to admit that a kiss was a lot more innocent than what you were proposing to him now.

"I just wanna help you, Stevie." You whispered in his ear, giving him goosebumps. He felt like he was living one of his dirtiest dreams, and it was getting harder and harder for him to resist your charms. "You don't even have to get naked in front of me. I can just... slide my hand down... and help you out." You dragged out the words as you spoke, timing your sentence with the movement of your hand. Your fingers slowly slid down his chest, past his abdomen to the bulge in his crotch. You applied the slightest amount of pressure on his member, but even that was enough to make him gasp. "You need this, Steve. Let me help you."

Your hand remained still on his erection as you waited for his consent, your eyes never leaving his. You could see reflected in them the internal debate in his mind, doubt and embarrassment slowly being consumed by desire. When he gave you a slight nod, you got to work. You didn't waste a second, pushing your hand inside his pants to make direct contact with his cock already wet with precum. 

Steve let out a high moan of pleasure as he felt your gentle fingers closing around his aching hard cock, throwing his head back on the pillow as he let himself get carried away into pleasure. You were right, it was so much more than his hands. It felt a thousand times better, even though there wasn't much difference between your hand and his.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Your seductive voice broke through the mess of thoughts and feelings that was his mind, bringing him a little closer to the edge. He wasn't going to last long, of that he was sure.

"Mhm," Steve nodded weakly, opening his eyes to look at you. "So good, f-fuck, please don't stop."

"I won't, baby, I promise. But you have to keep quiet. Bucky is right outside that door and you wouldn't want him to interrupt us, right?" You increased the pace of your hand as you spoke, almost as if you were daring him to keep quiet while you imposed a punishing rhythm on his cock. 

The very thought of being interrupted before reaching the relief he so desperately craved brought tears to his eyes. He needed to cum so badly and he needed you there with him to help him. If you were interrupted and forced to separate, and his mind had time to cool down, he wasn't sure if he would dare give in to his desires like that again. Steve needed to have you right then and there, otherwise he didn't know if he would ever get the chance again.

“N-no, I don’t want that, s-shit. I-I’ll be quiet, I promise.” He managed to say between ragged breaths and moans of pleasure. You found the desperation in his voice arousing, every sound that escaped his lips went straight to your core, which throbbed with need. You could feel your wetness beginning to drip down your thighs as you squeezed your legs together, seeking a bit of friction to ease the ache.

"Good boy," you praised him and felt his cock throb against your hand, letting you know how much Steve liked that nickname. 

A smile tugged at your lips, enjoying how powerful it felt to hear the soft moans of pleasure escaping your friend's mouth as you circled your palm over the sensitive skin on the tip of his cock. Being with him was very different from being with Bucky. Steve's shy and submissive personality allowed you to explore your dominant side, and you had to admit that you loved the way it made you feel. At that moment you knew there was no one more important to him than you. You had the power to give him immense amounts of pleasure until you pushed him over the edge, but you also had the ability to take it away and leave him crying for more. Not that you were going to do it —you weren't that cruel—, but knowing that you could made you feel special.

When Steve began to thrust his hips in rhythm with your movements to meet your hand, you knew he was close to his orgasm. So you picked up the pace, determined to give him the relief he craved. Steve's face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows slightly furrowed as his parted lips let out endless sounds of pleasure that became more desperate with each passing second. It was one of the most arousing sights you had ever seen and you couldn't help but feel proud to be the one who had brought him to that state.

"You're getting close, baby?" You asked him and he simply nodded, letting out a string of moans that bordered on being pathetic. "Are you gonna cum for me like a good boy?"

"Yes! F-fuck, please, don't stop." Steve whined, looking at you with half-closed, glassy eyes. 

"I won't, baby. I got you, just let go for me. Give into the pleasure, honey. I got you." Your sweet voice encouraged him, warm breath tickling him as you whispered in his ear.

Steve took your words as an command, and only a couple of seconds later he was cumming in your hand with a grunt of pleasure that echoed throughout the room. You should have been worried about it since your apartment wasn't very big and Bucky was only a couple of feet from the bedroom door, but in the moment you couldn't concentrate on anything but Steve's beautiful expression as his orgasm took over. His cock twitched in your hand as rope after rope of warm pearly white cum stained your skin. You helped him through his orgasm, moving your hand gently over his member until he let out a whimper from the overstimulation. Only then did you pull away from him, removing your hand from his pants as he struggled to get his breathing back to normal. 

When you saw your fingers covered in his release you had to resist the urge to taste it, opting to wipe it off with a piece of paper on the bedside table. You figured maybe that would be too much for Steve, and while there was nothing else you wanted more at that moment than to know how he tasted, you understood that your friendship with him was far more important. If you were lucky, you would have more opportunities in the future to satisfy your curiosity. So for now you would have to wait for it. 

"Feeling better?" You asked him when you noticed that his breathing had returned to normal. He didn't even open his eyes to answer you, just nodded his head as a smile formed on his lips. He was adorable.

"I feel great. T-that was amazing." You let out a chuckle at the expression of pure bliss on his face, proud of yourself for having managed to bring him to that state.

"I suggest you take a shower before you go out to the kitchen to get breakfast." You spoke as you got out of bed, fixing your hair before leaving the room. "And maybe don't smile like that, you don't want Bucky to find out what we did, do you?" Steve took a few seconds before answering you, debating whether it was really so terrible that someone found out what you had done. Sure, it would probably ruin your friendship, but at this point he wasn't sure that was a bad thing. Not if it meant he could feel your hands on his body again. 

However, when you looked at him with a raised brow, he was forced to shake his head. "I'll behave."

"Good boy. "You gave him a playful wink before disappearing out the door, leaving him alone in the room with his thoughts.

You headed straight to the bathroom to wash up before following the scent of coffee coming from the kitchen. Bucky was sitting at the small breakfast table when you entered, a cup of coffee in his hand and an open newspaper in front of him. You greeted him with a smile, but you were too distracted to notice the firm tone in his voice when he greeted you back. Your mind was still occupied with images of Steve melting under your touch, your core throbbing with need as a constant reminder of your little adventure.

You made your way to the coffee pot to pour yourself some, stretching over the counter to reach the cupboard where the mugs were kept. You missed hearing Bucky's footsteps behind you. You didn't even realize he had left his place at the table until you felt his muscular torso pressing against your back, one hand on your waist as he reached the other out to get you the cup you were having so much trouble grabbing.

"Jesus, Buck! You scared me!" You exclaimed, flinching a little and bringing a hand up to your chest, feeling your racing heartbeat. He didn't answer you and that should have been your second hint that something was wrong. However, he let you pour a cup of coffee and take a sip before making his intentions clear.

"You've been a bad girl." He whispered in your ear, tightening his grip on your waist. Your body immediately froze as you finally realized what was happening. "You thought you were being smart, huh? Keeping quiet as you had your fun with Steve in bed?" Bucky pressed his body against yours harder, the edge of the marble countertop digging into your hips to the point where you had to bend over it to release some of the pressure. The new position left your ass exposed to Bucky, who took the opportunity to press his semi-hard cock against you. "You thought I wouldn't catch you two, didn't you, doll? Well, you thought wrong and now you'll have to answer for your actions."

Stucky x Reader Part 2 HERE

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  9 / 9

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: ’twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | This is the last chapter! Please see the end for A/N.

Oddly enough, the initial thought that entered his mind when Y/N's father landed a punch on his face Friday morning was, ‘I deserved that.’

He didn't have difficulty dodging the floor, though, which was a blessing. Rubbing his jaw, he figured he probably wasn't hit as hard as the older man wanted. Stupid idiot, not a real fucking priest, fucking around with his sweet daughter, leading her on. “A real fucking piece of shit.”

As the accusations were hurled at him, his initial thought was, what could the man possibly be thinking?

Father Sylus might have had the same thoughts if the tables were turned, but he wouldn't have expressed them so boldly. Perhaps he understood the situation, and that's why he didn't try to justify himself. He could see where the man was coming from.

Now, standing in the middle of the church office, Y/N's father refusing to look at him or meet his eyes—that struck an awful chord. He kept his eyes downcast as Y/N's father continued his tirade. The words stung, each one a sharp barb, but deep down, he knew there was truth to them. He had allowed himself to grow too close to Y/N, to let his feelings for her blossom into something forbidden and dangerous. He knew that's what anyone would see.

"I trusted you," her father spat, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. "I trusted you to guide my daughter, not to take advantage of her. "

Father Sylus opened his mouth to speak. He was hoping to clarify some things, just for the record, and wanted to jump out the window when the words were: "I know this looks bad."

"You got that right." Y/N's dad finally looked at him; his irritation reflected the hell Father Sylus felt.

"Listen to me," Father Sylus made an effort to keep his tone calm. "This is bigger than you, or I, or..."

"Cut the shit, Father." This was Talia who spoke, glaring harshly and leaning against the wall, her finger pointed. The word 'Father' had never been used in a worse way. It was a slap that coiled around his neck, tightened till the muscle there contracted, and struggled against the tension.

"Think of the reputation the Catholic Church already has, going around accusing priests and nuns and bishops of all these -" She hissed, stopping herself. And before she began again, Father Sylus knew what the next words were.

What had to be done to protect the members. Not a fear of anything spiritual. It was the church's reputation as a whole, even if this had nothing to do with what she was speaking about. Even he knew that it wouldn't matter. Father Sylus merely chose not to see the faults, the perverse, or the corrupt except to acknowledge the horror that it was. This never stopped him from helping the people who most needed it.

He had just had dinner with most of them the other day, he had sat across the table with them after seeing a glimpse of life, not having the darkness or the lingering pain that lurked in the depths. Y/N had done that to him, making him believe that one person could do that much for another. Wasn't that what God wanted, too? to heal the blind, the broken, and the battered.

Still...

"What do you intend to do? Go to the local press? The national news channels?" Father Sylus continued, shaking his head slightly, trying not to let the anger get a hold of him. It came from hurt, loss, and a feeling that something was so close to crumbling and couldn't be put back together.

"She's the adult, but I should have never been so blind." Y/N's dad sounded upset and broken, really. It made the whole thing ten times harder.

"I'm calling the bishop, " Talia said, grimacing and picking at her fingers. The way she was unable to still herself was an annoyance. It was the sight of a restless mind struggling for rationale while the chest was heaving for solutions. She obviously did not think before the statement was released and in the air. She did not ponder such moments of stress, as she was like her.

"You can't." Father Sylus shot a look over to her.

"Why not?!" Y/N's dad spat, bristling as he stepped closer to the two. He did not look like he cared for the answer, but the words fell nonetheless.

And Father Sylus didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to put his feelings out there in the open without having them pulled apart, not having them twisted in front of his face.

"It doesn't matter. We all just need to be realistic about this." It fell with the delicacy of a pin dropped on a rug. It could be felt and heard but would not break anything.

It was difficult not to recoil from the words, not to flinch as they were released, a blade striking the target as the man across from him spoke again. "I expected more from you."

Father Sylus swallowed down the guilt, straightening. He had to remind himself it wasn't just about him. There was someone who cared for him dearly, someone he cared deeply for. And he would die before feeling regret eat him from the inside out, as it certainly was trying to do now.

It didn't stop there, however; Talia shoved off the wall and stared wide-eyed. "Why didn't you stop this sooner?"

He sighed, feeling irritated at the insinuation. "Why do you think?"

That stopped Talia short. It was blunt and not entirely his intention. But Talia was his friend. If he could call her that, he trusted that she knew what he meant.

Father Sylus knew they were all human, with their own desires and temptations. Every day, he prayed for strength to resist them, but when he eventually gave in, he did not push away those thoughts. Instead, he had acted upon them.

You learn something from your mistakes. Only this wasn't a mistake. In seminary, Father Sylus was taught to trust himself, that his heart and his mind and God would lead him the right way. He didn't understand back then why the other priests seemed so set in their views, so careful to examine every word and question the meaning behind it. But he was beginning to now, more than ever. A clarity had washed over him like the first rays of light entering a dim cave; it had struck him with vigor.

Talia knew. He saw it in her eyes, how she took a slow breath and glanced at the floor, clutching her skirt in her hands. She wasn't often silent, and it didn't take long for the silence to get to him, nor the stress from both Y/N's dad, and the situation itself.

"It still isn't right." She whispered, and he thought it was supposed to sound harsh, but instead, she only sounded defeated. Her words had lost their bite.

Father Sylus closed his eyes, tilting his head up to the ceiling for a moment, praying that the words would fall straight from his tongue without failure, without a hesitant breath, or pause for composure. His heartbeat grew a little steadier, and his nerves were soothed.

And looking at Y/N's dad then, a soft, disheartened smile graced his face. "I apologize. I know it isn't right; I do. Sometimes you fall in love, though."

A flinch, the man’s eyebrows pulling together, frowning and staring him down. A shadow covering the kind look that was once in his eye. Those pupils widened, taking him in. "What did you just say?"

The heart cannot be controlled, cannot be measured or weighed, and can't even be seen by human eyes unless you cut the chest open and expose it to the cruel outside world. Father Sylus didn't find it so cruel anymore, though.

That was a thought for later. Another time. One day. He had faith in that. For now, though, it was like the ground had begun to crumble, and the cracks were traveling so swiftly, further and further apart, spreading and reaching toward those who stood above.

"You heard me." And his heart shouldn't pound like this, his palms shouldn't sweat, and his stomach shouldn't feel like there was an eel thrashing around. "I don't know what the future holds, or how this will unfold, or how God will punish me for this transgression."

Some color had drained from Y/N's dad, and Talia went beside him, gently touching his shoulder and giving him a stern look—one Father Sylus hadn't yet seen from her. He noted that he probably should have thought about that or how different things were about to be.

"Father," Talia let go of the man, taking a step towards him, leaning in with a shake of her head, hissing. "This is blasphemy."

Father Sylus merely shrugged, figuring she probably never had an excuse to use the word until now, which was why she used it.

"I'm not throwing myself a pity party or turning this entire thing around to act like I'm some selfless martyr, Talia."

Y/N's dad shuffled from foot to foot, "This can't be happening."

The crack in his voice pulled on Father Sylus' heartstrings, making him feel the desperation in his skin, how uncomfortable and conflicted he felt, how ugly and dark the entire situation was, and how deep into the spiral they had all found themselves. But then his mind went to Y/N, thinking about what she was doing and if she was okay, and as much as it killed him, there was hope.

"It shouldn't, but it is." Father Sylus took a steadying breath.

There was a slight shift in the room, and maybe they hadn't expected his response or didn't expect it to be so direct, or maybe they hadn't been told the priest had such a strong opinion on this stuff. Father Sylus wasn't sure, but he knew it was out in the open now, and it couldn't be undone. Maybe it couldn't be fixed either , but he certainly wasn't letting this slip through his fingers.

Y/N's dad was now leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed over his chest, avoiding the gazes of both the priest and Talia. The man could only shake his head and squeeze his eyes shut.

"I'm having a hard time thinking this is real, " he croaked, making Father Sylus only more sympathetic. He understood how frustrating and unsettling the situation was, especially for someone like Y/N's dad, someone who had suffered a loss.

"I am the one who is responsible, and -"

"Nothing is ever cut and dry with her, though. I should have known." Y/N's dad interrupted, making his way towards the office door. "I'm buying her a ticket back home."

Father Sylus swallowed past the lump in his throat, "She's not going to like that."

"Does it look like I care?"

Father Sylus walked forward quickly, going over to stop him from leaving the room, although the effort was pathetic. The others' feet stopped right at the threshold. "You shouldn't. You might never see her again." He wasn’t sure why he said those words exactly, for he himself knew they weren’t true.

Y/N's father stiffened, "Is that a threat, Father?"

Father Sylus held up his hands, realizing how his words had sounded. "No, no, of course not. I just meant... Y/N is an adult, like you said. She makes her own choices.”

"Never again?" Talia echoed a bit too late. Didn't it just seem cruel to leave a puzzle in the middle of the game unfinished? The outcome was inevitable, but the journey, how the road was set, and where it would lead next were so mysterious and overwhelming at the same time.

"I'm trying to make this easy." Y/N's dad narrowed his eyes, shoulders tensing.

"Go ahead, send her back home, push her away, be left wondering why all the time." Father Sylus challenged. It was for more selfish reasons than he wanted to admit to at the moment .

"Don't play that card, not now."

That was the best advice, and Father Sylus took a step back, trying to find peace, "Look, it won't change anything. This town is small and people will talk regardless."

If there wasn't anything more to discuss, if the secrets would be allowed to settle and people would stop breathing them into the air, the wounds might be given enough time to heal. Yes, occasionally getting better with a friendly nudge was much more manageable. But they were all human, after all, weren't they?

"I'm calling the bishop," Talia repeated her earlier statement, but Father Sylus didn't show that it affected him.

"Do what you want."

Talia gaped, at a loss for words, stunned even. This seemed unfair; he had taken more than a second to think about this, something he had acknowledged long before that evening with Y/N came. Sure, some aspects were shocking and made his pulse speed up, and yeah, now that the secret was out, it should have been a relief to confess to Y/N's father about his feelings.

But his own feelings weren't what was important here, and that hurt, maybe more than some would believe it could. He could accept it, though, for her. So that a bit of happiness could seep into her skin and settle in her heart.

Even if that meant giving up one of the things he treasured most. It was disappointing to say the least. Not nearly enough of a punishment. What would happen to him? To Y/N? Now, that would have to be a part of the unknown, his penance that no one else could take. Only he and the Lord could decide upon that. And maybe He already had; maybe this was the judgment, the sins out in the open.

God would decide.

Y/N's father stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him with a resounding thud. Father Sylus flinched at the sound, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to gather his composure. Talia remained, her eyes wide and disbelieving as she stared at him.

You were used to panic. When living alone in your apartment, stress had a tendency to bottle up and fester into something you couldn't quite comprehend.

Sometimes, it would end with a bottle shattered and your body tired and sore, but this felt different. Your father confronting you had felt different. Especially when the emotions in his eyes were not directed at you; instead, they were pained. And when he pressed his lips together and cast his gaze elsewhere, the dull, throbbing pain settled in your chest, refusing to subside.

God, you really were a horrible daughter. Wretched. Narcissistic. The worst. A sinner, a demon, a fool, and an idiot who never thought. At this point, maybe they were a fair assessment, and the words you assumed your father had thought would surely follow you for the rest of your miserable life.

Standing in your room now, you couldn't stop thinking about Father Sylus. You remembered the feeling of his arms, that warm touch, and the depth of his crimson eyes.

And in the silence of your room that night, your suitcase packed and ready to go with the earliest flight your father could book back out west - you did something you hadn't done seriously in a very long time.

When you were younger, you often kneeled in front of the windowsill after your mother passed. Closing your eyes or keeping them open didn't make a difference. Lacing your fingers together and resting your chin on the backs of your hands - you used to pray. For good health, for the pain to fade, just for those stormy emotions in your head to settle.

Who knows, maybe your mom was listening. Kneeling next to you in spirit and pleading for you not to forget her, pleading for you to accept and love yourself. At the time, those moments were meant for her memory. But after getting older and finding a new curiosity about the world, they were soon forgotten, too.

And maybe you were trying to help yourself then. With nothing else to really lose, you resigned yourself to praying for a different outcome, pleading for a change that was in the hands of another.

It was so hard, kneeling there, like the strength to keep your composure was slipping from you. Each breath constricted, and with each time your eyes watered and the tears slipped past, you told yourself to keep strong. Asking someone else for an answer wasn't the best idea; maybe you were hoping for the impossible.

"Hey," you began quietly, biting back the tremble. "I'm- really not one for this. Stuff. And I hope that you're hearing me because..."

You fought to take deep, steady breaths and force the words beyond your clenched teeth. The thoughts were just as difficult to manage, and you had to shut your eyes tightly to calm the trembling within.

"If you could help, I'd appreciate that. Sorry, I don't deserve it, but that's selfish. Um, my-" and you gripped your hands tighter together.

"Can I ask for something, please?" Struggling past the lump in your throat, you swallowed hard. "I know, it's selfish. Prayers aren't really something that should be turned into a list of wishes..."

You knew. God had more important things to be doing than waiting for a scum like you to apologize and plead for help. He would guide the ones who listened, studied His word, did good deeds, and praised Him. You were none of those things; you had fallen off that path long ago.

"So, I'm not really sure if I should, but please, just help me," You cracked. Holding your hand over your mouth and trying to gasp in oxygen, you could hardly control the shuddering; it only made your heart pump faster, and the pain grew tenfold.

"He- Father Sylus - just keep him safe. That's all. I lov - he deserves it. You can't forsake him. If it wasn't for him - I just want him to be okay. I don't deserve anything; I just - I'll ask for this, even if I don't deserve to have that happen."

Father Sylus would listen, and the thought of that broke you. You just, needed someone to listen. Father Sylus deserved the best. God would surely grant him that. And you...

"God, I have never needed help as badly as I do now."

And still, a dark part of you couldn't allow yourself to think that He'd listen. He would pick others because it was the right thing to do—or the punishment. How awful would it be to answer for your deeds, the wrongs, or the filthy stuff that happened over the past few weeks? Maybe this was karma kicking in.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you opened your eyes, looking out the window at the night sky above. It was illuminated with stars that glittered so greatly that anyone could see the wonders. Did anyone stop to appreciate it, or did everyone just gloss over it without a care or a glance? Was that what it was like to look at your mistakes and not learn, apologize, or regret them?

It was not the future that hurt the worst, no. Nor was the loss, change, or distance. It wasn't even the uncertainty that clawed up your spine and clung to your clothes like dirty water. That seemed the least of your worries because the lack of time and the chance of missed opportunity made the pain bloom somewhere deeper.

The church was quiet as you walked in, the early morning light peeking through the windows. The familiar sensation of wooden floors beneath your shoes, a comfort, a normality, and a sense of guilt. Because you shouldn't have been there, but a coward you were, and the thought of avoiding one last goodbye wouldn't leave you alone.

Because deep down, a sick part of you wished the plane would crash. You weren't even on it yet, either. But the thought of not having to deal with the other options, choices, and consequences, and the pain of letting him go, had made your decision so much easier.

Oh, and like a magnet being attracted to its pole, you saw Father Sylus, looking out his office window.

He looked peaceful, holding the rosary and slowly running the beads between his fingers. He was humming something. All that could be heard was the slight hum, off-tune, but you recognized it.

Do not be afraid; I am with you.

When the humming stopped, you were surprised to realize you had walked to him without making a sound.

"You shouldn't be here." Father Sylus informed you, not bothering to look over his shoulder. Did he already know it was you? The words were not said to send you away. Instead, they held no weight behind them, and if that weren't enough of a giveaway, the soft smile as he turned was enough to confirm it for you.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving." It sounded so different out loud, and his shoulders didn't slouch; in fact, they stiffened. At the sight, your mouth watered, and your tongue started to feel heavy.

"I'm sorry, Sylus." You murmured, reaching forward to brush your hand on his arm; how he jolted made you retract your fingers.

His deep, red gaze finally fell upon you, and the color drained from his face. A shaky exhale fell past his lips as his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"What are you apologizing for? You've done nothing wrong, Y/N."

That couldn't be farther from the truth. But for the first time, you wanted to avoid correcting him. "So you're okay, right?"

There was a pinch to the tenderness; if you looked any closer, you could see him struggle with the answer.

"That's always a little tricky to figure out, isn't it ?"

And his smile was so endearing, and you couldn't stop thinking about the act that had taken place in this very office not long ago. Soaking in his presence and finding comfort in his touch, cherishing his scent. That urge to cry was back, and you stumbled forward, crashing into his side and burying your face into his chest.

"It hurts." You whined, a trembling hand gripping the material of his sweater. You'd always hated yourself for needing others, being weak, and not being able to fix things on your own.

"I know," Father Sylus smoothed your hair back." I didn't want this for you; you were just supposed to be happy."

You pulled back abruptly, eyes wide and a gasp catching in your throat. He grimaced, taking a hand and tapping a finger to his temple. "Everything moves and nothing is concrete, yes?"

"Please say you aren't feeling guilty." As soon as the words left your mouth you chastised yourself.

Father Sylus and his guilt, trying to swallow down the emotions when he should have just let himself have what he wanted.

"I know what it's like to have everything taken from you," you said, "to fall in love for the wrong reasons—with the wrong person."

The reminder shocked him, and his fingers ghosted against the skin beneath your collarbone, sending warm tingles up your neck, almost enough for you to lean against his hand.

"Stop."

And he sounded hurt, that frown appearing again, and when his eyebrows furrowed, well, something about it never failed to have your heart hammering in your chest.

"It shouldn't have happened - everything." Your nails dug into your palms painfully. "If it hadn't been for me - then maybe you could-"

"Stop." His deep voice was a growl, and his hand traveled up to grip your chin, tilting your head so that you were forced to look into his eyes—so sharp, so beautiful. "Don't talk like that. I won't accept that."

Despite the intense gaze, his fingers caressed your cheek so lightly, making your lips quirk up at the affection, relaxing instantly. Then his thumb rubbed gentle circles, and the soft gaze the two of you shared had your face heating up under his attention.

"It was me. I knew what I was doing," he smiled a little sheepishly. "I'll take the blame, the repercussions."

His tender gesture had you biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes to blink away the tears. Why did he have to care? Why did he have to try so hard? What had you done to deserve such admiration and devotion?

"What'll happen to you?" You wondered aloud, because as long as you didn't watch him break, as long as you didn't see the destruction firsthand, it might not hurt as much.

"I'll leave, most likely."

"Where are you going?"

Father Sylus just smiled, leaning in and pressing his lips softly to yours. He kissed you sweetly for a moment, and you pressed into the familiar gesture with everything you had.

His fingers curled into your waist, clutching onto the material of your shirt in a way that had your pulse quickening, and a shaky breath falling from your mouth. When he pulled back, it was too soon. And when he gave you a smile that had your knees buckling, he said something that would stay ingrained in your memory.

"God is everywhere, and therefore so am I."

And while those words did a pretty good job, the promise in his tone, along with that intense stare, had your hands fisting in his sweater, your body becoming jittery, the nerves sending pinpricks under your skin. The intensity is almost too much for you to process.

"I don't know anything about love," you whispered, "or why God makes us do stupid shit.”

"Because He wants to see us fall so that we may rise back up again."

"Then I'm happy, to have fallen for you."

He raised an eyebrow at your statement, and even though you were trembling, both from nervousness and fear, you felt a surprising warmth erupt in the pit of your stomach. A content and comfortable glow settled all around you as the words began to spill from your mouth.

"I myself go because of you, and your...your kind heart, and - oh, and your hair and - and - I love you."

With a huff, Father Sylus pressed another kiss lips , silencing you. Your breathing became somewhat labored. And instead of letting your emotions overwhelm you any more than you could handle, you laughed nervously as you pulled back to get a look at his face.

"California is great this time of year." You added.

"Yeah?" he asked, sounding content but not surprised. In fact, it seemed more as if he'd known what you were about to ask before the words had even left your mouth. You weren't sure if that was comforting or worrying.

But, Goddamnit, it was the best and most incredible possibility you'd ever been given the chance to express. And if this was real, and if it was heaven or hell, or wherever was next, it would matter so much more, so you knew you needed to be selfish just once more.

"I don't have anybody," You told him. “In California.”

And then Father Sylus shook his head and pressed his lips together, and panic erupted in your chest before anything had been spoken. It was this pit in the pit of your gut, churning, the fear mounting, telling you not to get your hopes up because if you were to get it up again, that would mean ripping yourself apart and rearranging everything inside.

"You have plenty of people in your life, Y/N." Father Sylus informed you. "And me, well, I don't have a home, really. Besides, not everyone likes the beach."

You could have cried. After so much stress, worry, and sorrow, you wanted to sink back into his arms and let him hold you forever. "Maybe I'm sick, Father. Maybe I'm broken beyond repair, and no one can fix that but you ."

With a sad smile, Father Sylus' thumb brushed over the tears on your cheek, and you loved how warm he was.

"No, you're not. You are coming home; that's the biggest victory you could have achieved. And just..." He cleared his throat, the emotion seeping in.

What did I do?" You asked.

"You sought to heal your crushed spirit." To calm the quivering, Father Sylus gripped your chin again to make you meet his eyes. "You did that. Not me. Not God. You did that."

"I need you." you urged, pulling on his collar.

"I know," he murmured. His dark and hooded eyes flickered down to you briefly. Those soft lips and mouth open, and that deep voice caught your name on his tongue.

"Say it." you pleaded. "You've given me the confidence, so please-" Your fingers tightened around his , begging him to stop stabbing your heart a little further until it finally broke. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you," he assured. His hand cupped the side of your face, long fingers sliding over the skin, tugging the ear and moving strands of hair. And then he glanced up, the light overhead piercing his orbs, and you thought you saw some tears cling to the ends of his eyelashes.

In those little touches, it was in that moment, and the kindness showed through how his thumb caressed the soft spot behind your ear. And the heat that radiated off of him, giving you every impression of being comforted. Or perhaps it was how your heart pounded erratically, sending sparks behind your eyelids. But either way, it was at that moment you realized something.

This was a test. That’s all it had been.

"I love you," Father Sylus muttered once more. Lips parted open just a bit too long until all that could be heard was the wind howling against the window as winter gradually left its mark.

It took a second, before you were forced to take a deep, slow breath, the shaking of your nerves refusing to leave. "I have to go." When Father Sylus looked at you with those beautiful crimson orbs, you smiled sadly. "I’ll miss my flight."

And he nodded, and you pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth, the sudden reality washing over, taking the ease and settling the ache back into the chest where it had started.

"I heard California is nice this time of year." Father Sylus said.

"Yes," you agreed, chuckling slightly. "The waves are nice. Perfect for when you're excommunicated for sleeping with a parishioner."

"Sounds pretty spectacular."

And it did, and the thought of having him beside you through the change flushed out the pressure of anxiety and sadness . "And the view over San Francisco Bay is spectacular."

You weren't sure what made you say it, or why a sudden burst of confidence swelled. All you knew was, suddenly, with Father Sylus, there were no secrets.

Father Sylus tilted his head, regarding you curiously. He brushed a strand of hair from your face before meeting your eyes, crimson locking with your gaze. "What kind of view are we talking about?"

"Nothing like you've seen before, Sylus." He had to understand , it was an easy realization, really, "Out west, the sunrise is just..."

No lies. No secrets. For all you knew, it could be one of the last times you saw him. Did that still have the same effect, knowing neither of you was being forced away?

"Do I have a chance?" He asked, and you didn't have to think hard about the question to understand its intent.

He trusted you, but would it be enough? Would he be enough?

Would it be enough to see you smile each morning when you caught his attention, his lips quirking up into that beautiful half grin? Holding onto you when you slept, fingers woven in your hair, or feeling your body shifting against his side. Seeing you get ready for work in the bathroom, hearing the song you hummed to yourself. The kind words he would give after seeing you dance without music. Watching you grow happy each time he kissed your skin and marked you and sent shivers up and down your spine. And would those rare moments of passion that allowed you to feel his emotions, bursting from his fingertips and flowing through his mouth and radiating off of his heart, be enough for him to overcome the differences?

Was he willing to ignore the ways in which the two of you were so intrinsically flawed and simply fall in love with the parts that still bore so much trust and content, maybe even peace?

Would seeing your smile every day be enough?

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, the silence filling the room with a melancholy aura until you finally spoke.

"You always have a chance."

When you pulled away, there was nothing but an unsettling quietness—just the humming of the clock, the steady breaths, and the wind outside.

It wasn't exactly like you were perfect, or doing anything right. If anything, you were the one who had it the easiest because once you had opened the door, he just had to walk through it. And while it hurt to look upon the uncertainty, the truth was that you were hopeful. A piece of you had slipped through the cracks, and come back, crawling forth to reach the surface.

It wasn't blind or naïve, the hope that held you or had held you this entire time. But it was there, and so were you.

An imperfect man who had made mistakes and wasn't much different than yourself. Once upon a time, you had known, to accept the flaws, the hurt, and the people inside of them. That's all that God wanted from people at the end of the day, right?

A person. A soul. An existence.

That's all anyone could ever be.

Somehow, by the grace of God, you would allow yourself to bask in this feeling of worth, redemption, and mercy, regardless of the fact that a darker part of you would say you didn't deserve to be saved.

But love, even if it doesn't last, will have no other purpose other than what it is. And that's enough.

With one last glimpse, your hands fell into your pockets, and you took a deep, shuddering breath. Your resolve was not broken; it was accepted and resolved, and you glanced up with a confident step to the door, a prayer in your head.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

The End

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91 A/N:

If listening to author song picks gives you brain zaps, I suggest listening to these if you're a loser like me who stays to watch the credits of a movie: You knew this one was coming, right? Headphones encouraged. SYMBOLISM, my friends. The song mentioned in the chapter, but not specifically mentioned except for one line from it.

I am so incredibly grateful to have had the friends that helped me write a good majority of this. Words cannot express how *sigh* blessed I feel to have had help so my dumb brain could write properly, or word things differently, or remember how Catholicism worked. This probably wasn't the AU anyone wanted, or expected. But here we are, and this has BLOWN UP in ways I didn't expect. It even inspired ART from somebody. I can't believe it. It honestly warms my heart so much at how much attention this has gotten. I myself struggle with a lot of confidence/religious guilt/relationship issues that our MC in this story faces, so I am so happy it's touched others. I wanted this to be a lot longer, but I have ideas for more horrible fics and more horrible AU's, so I need the headspace for that. I am also working on original stuff. And all good things must come to an end. I apologize if this is a cliffhanger for a lot of people, but considering this was written from a 'reader' perspective, I didn't want to twist it too much in a certain direction. So, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to those who have read, will continue to read, and interact with me about this fic. LDS has become such an important game to me and the depth of Sylus as a character makes me want to pull my hair out and also punch him in the face (affectionately). If you enjoy my work, please let me know. Your support means the world. <3

My kofi page if you want to further support me. Never required but always appreciated!

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Idol!Song Mingi x F!Reader TW : reader is an internatiol ATINY ; nationality unspecified ; pure angst ; long distance relationship ; arguing ; disastrous break up ; heartbreak ; it's just sad ; he's a little bit, slightly yandere ; Word Count : 8.0k A/N : Mingi angst!! Yay! Haven't written for ATEEZ in a good bit! This one is fun! I have full control and I love it! Time for some heartbreak!! This turned a little yandere... But I hope you still like it! Also, I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm trying to write as much as I can! Request : Anonny : hi! I was wondering if you could do a mingi angst! I've been reading your angst fics and well just your gifs for like the past year and never had the courage to ask until now! I don't really have specifics and you could just do whatever you want with plot wise or something! I haven't thought about plot and stuff yet, just mingi angst 😭

The last fancall, it was kind of sad, but in a way, also relieving. They got to just relax after this call, they didn’t have to try to understand what an international fan was saying, not that it was a problem, but it was hard, although they’d never expect anyone to learn Korean just for them. They all loved talking to ATINY though, even if it were just a few, they got to personally get to know them for a minute or two, they got to joke with them, laugh with them, even playfully flirt with them. It was just nice to have some kind of interaction with the fans that brought them to where they were today. 

It was your first fancall, you weren’t even sure how you had gotten so lucky to be chosen, but you had been, and when you got the email you screamed so loud that your neighbor started banging on the walls. Something as small as a video call, but it was huge to you, it felt like a dream. Surely, anyone who wasn’t a fan of k-pop wouldn’t understand, they’d probably think you were crazy for getting so excited over something like this… But this just might be the closest you’d ever get to any of them, and it would most definitely be the only time you ever got to talk to them. 

You had done your hair and your makeup and you had changed your outfit about six times before settling on something more casual. It’s not like any of them would remember you anyway, and you weren’t even upset about that, you were just glad to be able to have this opportunity… an opportunity that had you so insanely flustered that you could barely even speak when Hongjoong showed up on your screen. 

How embarrassing it was to sit in front of your favorite idols, not all of them at once, but one by one, they all got to look at you and see you looking so absolutely enamored that they were in fact actual people. The most you could get out was a ‘hello’, and even that was kind of squeaky and they would laugh, which in turn would make you more shy. They were all so nice though, asking you what your favorite song was and who your bias is, even though you couldn’t seem to find your voice. You wondered if things like this happened often. 

Then you got to Mingi, who was last second to last in the lineup. He wasn’t exactly your bias, you didn’t really have one, they were all amazing and attractive in their own personal ways. But damn did he look good. If you were awestruck before, you were completely starstruck now, your eyes widening as you took in his perfect features and just… everything about him. 

“Oh my god…” You said, under your breath you had assumed, but he had to have heard you considering he turned around and looked behind him before looking back at the camera to smile and wave at you. “Hi…” His turn was slightly different, it made you feel different. The other guys had simply looked at you, but it felt like Mingi was really looking at you. What did he see? Did you have something in your teeth? Was your hair messed up? You felt shy, like you were standing right in front of your crush. It was crazy. 

“You ever been to Korea?” He asked, and it was so blunt, but he had this cheeky smile on his face that both eased your nerves and somehow had them going haywire at the same time. You giggled nervously and shook your head no. “You should come, it’s nice here. A lot of pretty girls, you’ll fit right in.” He… He just called you pretty? Was this fan service? It had to be! He was just really really good at it. “Do you have a boyfriend?” None of the other guys had asked you these types of questions, why were things getting so personal? Why didn’t you seem to mind it when it was coming from him? You shook your head no once again. “Good. I’m your boyfriend now. Okay?” 

It probably wasn’t a good time to take a sip of water, not that you had expected him to say something like that, but you spit it out all over your desk, completely in shock at the words that you had just heard him say. There was no way he was being serious right now. His fan service was immaculate. “Oh…Okay!” You stammered out, and you wondered how long this would go on. He had surely passed up the timer. 

“My turn now!!” You heard Wooyoung shout from beside him, and Mingi groaned loudly as his bottom lip jutted out. “I’m gonna steal your girlfriend, deal with it.” He teased, and you let out a small sigh. It was just fan service. You felt kind of foolish for momentarily getting worked up over something that he probably said to 20 other people today. 

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” He asked, his words coming out rushed, and what the hell were you supposed to do? Say no?! You obviously wanted to see him again, that would be awesome, but the chances of you winning a fan call raffle twice were so low, you would be crazy to think that you’d ever have a moment like this again. 

“Yeah… Yeah, you will.” You said, because even though you knew he was just very skilled in acting, you might as well play along with it. For a few short seconds, you had been Song Mingis girlfriend… And now that you had moved to a call with Wooyoung… All you could think about Mingi and his words and the way he looked at you. It drove you crazy… He drove you crazy. He had just become your ultimate bias though!

///

“I’m not gonna be able to go to the Ateez concert.” Your friend mumbled, and part of you, the more selfish part of you, was partially glad that she wasn’t able to go. She had flaunted the fact that she got front row tickets and you hadn’t been able to get even a back seat, they were sold out before payday. “Stupid fucking job, not giving me a day off. I requested it too!” 

“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, trying your best to sympathize with her, but all you could selfishly think was that if you weren’t lucky enough to go, she shouldn’t be lucky enough to go either. “Are you going to sell the ticket? You could get some good profit considering it’s a front row seat.” You quizzed, but the way she was looking at you made you quite uneasy. It looked like she was planning something… or at least thinking of something, and you didn’t know if it was malicious or something else completely. She was hard to read. 

Long, manicured nails tapped against the table top, the sound putting you even more on edge, and then she sighed. “I know that your birthday is coming up, and… well I’m poor because I bought this damn ticket so…” Her shoulders shrugged, but there was a slight, tight lipped smile spreading across her face. “I’m just gonna give it to you. Happy early birthday! Yay! Tell Yuno I love him so much.” 

Your jaw might as well have been on the floor. Was fate really giving you a good hand this year? Was this all that good karma you had earned from being a wonderful citizen in society? “Holy shit… No way! Are you being serious right now?” You just had to be sure. There was no way someone would just give up a front row ticket, especially not for free, even if it were your best friend. There had to be some kind of clause. 

“Yes, I’m serious. Now, accept it before I change my mind and just skip work that day. I would have done that anyway if I didn’t have to pay rent.” She rolled her eyes and sunk down in her seat. “Take as many pictures and videos as you can… for me. Please! That’s all I’m asking for.” You nodded your head firmly, shit, that was the easiest thing you’d have to do. “He’ll probably look so good… Maybe…” 

“No take backs!” You blurted out, your finger waving back and forth as you stared at her, and you hoped that she thought you were just goofing around and that your expression didn’t let on just how panicked you felt just by her words. “I will facetime you just so you feel like you’re actually there… Okay?” She was sulking, as anyone would be, you knew damn well that you would be if you were in the same position as her. 

“Just have fun… And make a big sign, you have to get at least one of them to notice you, especially since you’re front row. Take advantage of those seats, bitch.” She teased, reaching her hands across the table to grab yours as she let out a little squeal, kicking her feet and acting as if she were still the one going. Maybe she was just trying to hype you up. “I gave you the best birthday gift, nobody can top me, they shouldn’t even try.” 

“They should definitely still try though… I mean… I like getting things.” She snorted loudly, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with her. She was absolutely crazy and you absolutely adored her. A world without her as your best friend would be dull and boring and you didn’t even want to think about how sad it would be. You would have the best time of your life at that concert, and you’d do it for her. 

///

Picking out an outfit for something like a concert was much harder than picking out an outfit for a video call. This was important, especially since you were going to be in the front row. One of them - hopefully Mingi - would look directly at you at some point. You couldn’t just be casual about it, you had to draw attention to yourself, you had to make sure that you were noticed. This decision felt more crucial than anything else in your life, and that seems quite absurd, but these guys had been the subjects of all your dreams and daydreams, you at least wanted to look good in front of them. 

You had only been to one other concert in your entire life, and it was back during middle school for an indie group when you were going through your “emo” phase. This was bigger than that, you could already tell as you pulled up to the arena and saw the people pouring into the entrance. Your heart was hammering in your chest, it was crazy, you had even gotten there 2 hours early to try to make things easier on yourself but the crowd was already massive. 

The lightstick in your hand was already shaking, but only because of your nerves, but you knew that you couldn’t just sit in the back of the Uber forever, so you climbed out, taking a deep breath before heading into the building. It was somehow more packed inside than it was even outside and it was so insanely congested that it felt more like a train station than an arena for a concert. Did all concert venues look like this or was it just because ATEEZ was performing? 

Since you were front row, you got to go in and watch them warm up… funnily enough, you felt you might miss it considering you didn’t have a single idea where the hell you were going. You were trying your best to navigate through this cluster of people that were just as excited as you were, and you wished that you had someone to help walk you through this whole thing. It was so loud and you were being bumped into, and while they apologized for it, it didn’t make you any less anxious. 

By the time you finally made it in the arena, you were just exhausted. The big sign that you had made and brought along with you had miraculously made it through all of it unscathed, but you were drained. You dropped down into your seat, hoping that your hair and your outfit had survived as well as the sign, but there was no mirror and you didn’t want to risk getting lost on your way to or from the bathroom, so you just had to rely on that hope that you still looked as good as you did when you left the house. 

It felt like you hadn’t even had enough time to really catch your breath or cool off before the guys were walking out on stage. Everyone around you was screaming, but you were so enamored by the sight of them, literally right in front of you, that your mouth was hanging open but no sound was coming out. You had really thought that the video call was the most amazing thing, but now, you were sure that you were wrong. They were legitimately real, they were right in front of you. “Holy shit…” You mumbled to yourself, and for some reason, even though there were still a pretty good amount of people around you, you were self conscious, you were shy, you were nervous. 

They came to the edge of the stage, one by one, and they all walked by and finished hand hearts that other people were making and stayed still long enough to be in selfies with certain people, none of them really stopped for longer than a minute tops… No one, other than Mingi. 

Oh, Mingi… Who had managed to make your heart flutter through a simple video call, he made you feel like you were going crazy… Surely he wouldn’t remember you though. But why… Why did he full stop on your side of the stage? Why did he kneel down in front of you, his eyes locking with yours as his head tilted to the side? Gosh, he was adorable. There was no way that he would notice you after the couple months that had passed. The video call hadn’t lasted long enough for your face to be saved in his memory. Had it? 

The chants of the people beside you seemed to pull him out of whatever trance he was in, and he quickly stood up and scurried along the stage, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he continued to look back at you, his eyes narrowing as if in deep thought. Did he remember you? 

Soon enough they were off the stage and the rest of the stadium began to fill. The noise was much worse inside the arena, the sound just echoing off the walls and filling your ears, and you wondered how people could handle it constantly. You were sure that you’d have a major headache once you got out of there. The sudden influx of people and the growing excitement of the show that was about to begin had taken your mind off of the slightly strange interaction from before. You shouldn’t think so hard about those things, it was foolish and you didn’t want to be delusional. 

As the show started, the screams that you had originally thought to be loud seemed to multiply tenfold and your ears were already ringing. Of course, you had a seat right next to the speaker. Would your eardrums even make it through the night? Were there enough ibuprofen in the world to soothe the awful ache in your head once you got back home? 

It didn’t matter now, you just wanted to enjoy the show. You were here to enjoy the concert, to live the experience… But also, not forget to get enough video footage of Yunho to thank your friend for the ticket. This was something that you wouldn’t be able to do again, at least for a long time. Screw the headache, you should enjoy it while it lasts, and that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

///

“I swear, I think that’s her in the front row.” Mingi said backstage after the warmups. The guys all stared at him like he was crazy, but he knew that he wasn’t. He knew your face, he knew your eyes, they had filled his dreams every night… They thought he was crazy for that too. “I’m so serious right now. I wouldn’t say it’s her if it wasn’t.” 

Wooyoung snorted, but patted Mingi on the back as he walked by. “Maybe you’re the delusional one. Spotting your dream girl out in the crowd. That’s crazy. Come on, we have to get ready. Get your head out of your ass.” Mingi pouted as he walked over to the stylist and dropped down into his seat beside Hongjoong. 

“I’m being so serious right now. You believe me, right? I mean… You saw her in the call. You know what she looks like. That was her out in the crowd… Right?” Mingi asked, trying to keep his voice down so that Wooyoung wouldn’t come over and completely crush his dreams and rain on his parade. Hongjoong chewed on his bottom lip, looking at Mingi through the mirrors that were in front of them. “You… You believe me… Don’t you?” 

Hongjoong sighed, turning to Mingi with a slight pout. “I didn’t… But if you really believe you saw her, I’m happy for you. I’m not going to tell you that you’re crazy.” He pushed himself up off of his chair and stretched, preparing himself for the show that he was about to put on for all the fans. “It’s almost time to go out there…” 

“Yeah! Maybe you’ll see your girlfriend!” Wooyoung chimed in, seemingly coming from out of nowhere. “It’s okay to be delusional, bud. I’m not judging you for it.” Although it seemed like he was judging him a lot for it, Mingi tried to avoid the teasing and focus more on the fact that he was about to head out on stage in less than five minutes. 

He was so nervous though, not for the reasons that most would think though. Being up on stage in front of thousands of people wasn’t the issue, it was being up on stage in front of you. What were the chances of you winning a fancall and being at a show too? It’s like the universe was trying to bring the both of you together. He truly believed that. He couldn’t think of any other reason for those two things to happen. Especially with you being right in front… Front row seats, like he was meant to see you. It wasn’t a coincidence, it couldn’t be, and he knew that it was you. Your face was unforgettable to him. He daydreamt about it every day, he would have dreams of you every night. He couldn’t get you out of his head. 

///

The speakers in front of you send vibrations through the air around you, you could feel it in your muscles, in your bones. The entire arena went dark for a moment, and then you heard the crowd roar as they walked out. You had already seen them once during their warm up, but it was like the first time again, your breath held in your lungs as they walked out, the music crescendoing the closer they got to the edge of the stage. 

It felt like when you ride a rollercoaster, the slow climb to the top of the hill, and you knew that the edge was coming soon, that feeling of falling, excitement and fear all in one… But this time there was no fear, it was just the strange tingly feeling in your stomach, that last breath of air before you’d let it all out in one loud scream. 

Building and building, their bodies like shadows in the darkness, and then with one click the spotlights turned on and they were illuminated, the bright lights shining on each and every one of them, but you were only looking specifically at one. An audible gasp left your lips as you seemed to once again lock eyes with Mingi.

Your hands shook as you held up the sign that you had made, feeling quite foolish now as it was hoisted above your head. “Call Me Mingi”, with your phone number written neatly at the bottom. It was a joke, one that your friend had laughed about right alongside you as she added the glitter to the glue hearts that had been neatly placed along the board. 

It was crazy, you and your friend both agreed to that, but it was probably a good switch up from the typical signs that asked the idols to marry them. What was even crazier though was when Mingi pulled out his phone, aiming it in your direction and snapped a quick photo. You couldn’t be delusional, being delusional wasn’t good for your heart or your mind, but you also couldn’t help but think that maybe he took the photo so that he could check back on the sign… So that he could call you… 

The rest of the concert felt more like a blur, stuck in your own mind thinking about what Mingi could have wanted that picture for. You didn’t see any of the other guys taking pictures of the crowd… Or maybe you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice if they did. You couldn’t stop thinking about it though, and before you knew it, the concert was over and you couldn’t even remember the setlist or the last song they played before the main lights in the arena turned back on and everyone began filing out. 

Your friend was going to kill you, you hadn’t gotten a single video of Yunho for her. You honestly were quite pissed at yourself as well. This is why delusions aren’t good at all. You missed the whole concert, one that you most likely were never going to be able to experience ever again, because you were too busy thinking about whether Song Mingi, a literal idol, would make the time to call someone like you. 

///

“You didn’t get a single video of Yunho!? Oh my god!” Your friend whined as you laid in bed, your phone next to your head, not even on speaker, but her voice was loud enough that it didn’t need to be. “Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t go to the concert. I can’t afford to be a delulu as your ass.” 

“I’m sorry!” You mumbled, throwing your hands over your face and letting out a loud groan. “I just… I’m not even thinking about him calling my number at this point. I just don’t want him to post a picture of it online and have a bunch of people trying to call me or text me, you know?” You explained, finally getting over your delusions and moving onto a safer, yet still highly panic inducing train of thought. 

“Oh! Your phone is going to be blowing up! You’ll finally be super popular!” Your friend teased, snorting loudly as she said it, but you could only muster a slightly annoyed shut up in response before your phone started vibrating. “It begins! Maybe he did post it!” 

“Oh hell no! I’ll call you back!” You said quickly, ending the call with your friend to quickly answer the incoming call. “Look. I don’t know where you got my number, but if it’s from where I think it is, I will not tolerate unsolicited calls. This is harassment.” 

“Oh…” The voice on the other end was quite timid, but you could tell it was a guy. He sounded kind of nervous, and although all of you wanted to believe who you thought it was, you didn’t want to go down that road again, at least not tonight. “But your number was on the sign… I thought you wanted the phone call.” 

“The sign was a joke!” You explained exasperatedly, kicking your legs like a toddler in the store who was throwing a temper tantrum. You surely didn’t want to deal with this right now. “Unless you are Song Mingi, I’d advise you to hang up the phone and find someone else to bother this late at night.” 

There was a chuckle, although the sound was slightly muffled, but it was extremely agitating that someone found this funny. As if harassment was something comical nowadays. “So I shouldn’t hang up the phone then… Right?” You scoffed loudly, finally getting up from your bed and pacing around your room, something that you often did when you were just too annoyed to sit still. 

“Look, this isn’t funny. If you’re doing this to mess with me, I’m sure you’ve already had your fun. I’m trying to get some sleep, I’m exhausted. It would be really cool of you to not fuck with people like this.” The words came out in huffed breaths, you were beyond pissed, not just at whoever this person was, but at yourself for being stupid enough to put your number out so publicly just on the small chance that someone like Song Mingi would actually dial your number. 

A soft hum, and then your phone started vibrating again, this time an invite to a video call that you surely weren’t up to accepting. You let it continue ringing until it ended, and you thought that it would be a one and done type of thing, but then it started vibrating again. “Just for a second, you don’t even have to be on the camera, I just want to show you something.” 

You didn’t exactly mean to laugh as loudly as you did, but you had heard that line one too many times in your lifetime to trust it. “Look bud, I don’t want to see a live action shot of your dick and balls. I wasn’t born yesterday.” You snarkily shot back, and the audible gasp that came through your speaker had it crackling slightly. 

“Who did that to you? That’s disgusting… Hold up. We don’t have to call. I’ll just… Send you a selfie real quick. Not of my dick and balls.” Were you so annoyed that you were laughing, or did you actually find him funny? You weren’t sure, but regardless of what it was, you laughed at his little quip, your hand moving over your mouth so that the guy didn’t think he was actually getting anywhere right now. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand once again, and luckily it was only once, but when you went to your texts, you were met with a selfie of the guy that was on the other end of the line… The guy that the sign had been made for. “I call bullshit!” You blurted out, because there was no way in hell your little glitter bomb sign would have worked. You just couldn’t fathom it.

“Reverse image search it then. It doesn’t exist anywhere else than in your messages.” He said rather bluntly, quite cockily too. Now that you were really listening to his voice though, you couldn’t deny that it sounded all too familiar to the voice you heard at the concert, and not just that, but the voice you had heard in your phone before when you had won the fancall. You were stunned into silence, you didn’t know what to say or what to do next, and he could tell. “You believe me now?” 

“Mmhm…” Was all you could mutter, because what else were you supposed to say? How were you supposed to think of anything coherent when you were currently in a very real, very one on one call with Song Mingi… Or was it one on one? Did his managers know about this call? Were they just standing around him listening to every word you and him say? Did they freak out when he sent the selfie to you? 

“So… I’m going to be here… Close to you… For another two days…” What was he hinting at? Ain’t no way he was hinting at what you thought he was… right? “If you want to meet up for lunch or dinner… or something…” Holy shit he was. “I know that this is crazy, I just needed to be sure…” 

“Sure of what?” You asked, and your heart felt like a freight train, speeding straight to your ribcage and you were sure it was going to shoot out in a matter of seconds. 

“I… I need to be sure that I do actually like you…” 

///

Two days wasn’t enough, but in a sense, it was for him. It felt like a dream when he finally met up with you, even though he had to practically disguise himself from the public, it felt nice to just be able to sit across from you for lunch and talk to you. It didn’t take long for him to be 100… No… 500% sure that you were the woman that he wanted to be with. Love worked in crazy ways, but he trusted it, because the odds of everything lining up so perfectly to get to this moment… It was fate, it had to be. 

The way your body froze for a second before melting against his when he so suddenly pressed his lips to yours. It was a spur of the moment thing, but it felt right, and he needed to kiss you now because he knew that the moment wouldn’t come again for a long time. It wasn’t supposed to lead to anything more, it wasn’t what he had planned, but before either of you could really think twice, you were falling back onto the hotel mattress and he was falling on top of you. 

In that moment, it was like his heart grew ten times bigger, and laying beside you, your hair carelessly clinging to your sweat covered forehead as you dozed peacefully beside him… Love wasn’t hard to find, the world was just waiting to bring the one you were supposed to love to you. That’s how he felt, and he believed it wholeheartedly. How could he not when he felt like he was falling deeper and deeper in love with you with every soft breath that escaped your lips. 

To live in that moment forever, both bodies hidden underneath wrinkled sheets, his feet hanging out from the end of the blanket, your arm draped lazily over his bare chest. Could you feel his heart beating beneath his skin? It seemed like now it was only beating for you. He saw his future flash before his eyes, mornings like this, every morning like this, just waking up beside you, being able to see your beautiful face as soon as he opened his eyes. What a wonderful future it would be to spend it with you. 

Falling in love was easy when it was with you, but it was hard… It was hard because he knew he couldn’t stay with you, at least not in person. He had to go back to Korea, he had to finish the rest of the tour. His heart felt like it was connected to yours entirely, and having to leave you behind was going to be painful… But it would work. He’d make it work, solely because he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. 

“I wish I could take you with me…” He whispered, and while he knew that that wish couldn’t be granted, not yet at least, he had been able to swindle security to pick you up just so that he could ride with you to the airport, so that he’d be able to see you one last time before he had to go. “I’ll message you… I’ll call you every day.” 

“What if you get bored?” You practically whimpered, and his heart cracked at the question. How could he ever get bored of you? He had spent months before the concert just thinking about you before he even knew where you lived or what you were truly like. He had been loyal to the singular thought of you. There was no way that he’d give up so easily when he finally had you and was able to call you his. 

“I’d never get bored, baby. I’ll wait, always… Until we can be together.” He reassured you, his hands cupping your cheeks gently as he wiped away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry. I’ll start crying and then I won’t be able to get out of the car because I won’t want to leave you…” He kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose before leaning back and giving you a smile that had his eyes disappearing momentarily. It was your favorite smile, you had told him multiple times, and it always seemed to cheer you up. 

“I’m sorry…” You sniffled, leaning forward and resting your head against his chest. Could you hear his heart now, could you hear how fast it was beating for you? “You should go now… I don’t want you to miss your flight.” The words sounded choked out, and he would have said more, but he knew that his words would come out the same way. 

For some people, two days wasn’t even enough to be acquaintances, but for him, two days was enough for him to feel like his heart belonged to you completely. You were his soulmate, his everything, without a doubt… He wouldn’t even look at another woman, he wouldn’t be able to look at anything without somehow finding a way to see you in whatever it was. He loved you with every ounce, every fiber of his being. 

“I’ll… I’ll try to make a stop here after the tour… I’ll visit you again… Before I go back to Korea… Okay?” He held out his pinky to lock with yours, twisting his hand and pressing his and your thumbs together. “Wait for me… Always wait for me, okay?” You nodded your head quickly, your nose scrunched up in the most adorable way as the tears continued to fall down your cheeks. With one last kiss, he was moving away, closer to the door. He hated goodbyes. “Get her home safe, okay… Please.” He told the driver who simply nodded, and then he was gone. 

The windows were tinted, and although he knew that you could see him constantly looking back at you through the windows, he couldn’t see you at all. The last image of you that he held in his mind was your tear stained cheeks and the expression of sadness as he let go of your finger and your hand dropped back down to your lap. He wished he could take you with him, but life just wouldn’t allow that… Not right now at least. 

///

For a good amount of time, you both kept in touch with each other frequently. Hell, you even had your first argument as soon as he got back to Korea because he pinky promised that he’d come visit you before he left, but he didn’t. It was quickly solved though, because one of the main things the two of you had going for the relationship was communication. He promised that when he had free time he would come visit you for a week, and you held onto that promise just as you had held onto the one from before. 

You would talk about how your day was, all the little things that happened, regardless of time difference or schedules, you both always found a way to keep in contact. For months your nights would end with video calls from him, and his nights would end with video calls from you. Everything was perfect, he truly felt that way. 

But soon the messages came in less often, it seemed like you were always busy doing something when he wanted to talk. He’d call you at night and you wouldn’t answer, always miraculously not having your phone with you or on when the call would come in. He didn’t understand it, and when he went to one of the other members to talk, he didn’t want to hear what they had to say either. 

There was no way that you were getting tired of him. You couldn’t be getting bored… Because he promised you that he wouldn’t get bored. It would be hypocritical for you to ask him if he’d get bored of you and then… then get bored of him. 

The thought stuck with him though, and while that would usually make most people give up, it just made him try harder. He messaged you as much as he could, he sent you constant pictures, he tried to call you whenever he knew you’d be on a lunch break or when you’d usually get off work. Your responses were always so dry though. Were you trying to get rid of him? Had he done something wrong? He was doing his best, it’s not like he enjoyed being so far away from you. It had only been 3 months… He was willing to wait forever to be with you… Why couldn't you do the same for him? 

“Hey baby, how did you sleep?” Nowadays he felt nervous when he texted you. He didn’t know whether he’d get a one word reply or no reply at all. It felt pathetic that the days he’d get the one word replies were his favorite, but you had been leaving him on read so often now that even the smallest response felt like a win to him. 

“I think we should talk…” A five word reply, and while the words didn’t sit right with him and they made his stomach do flips, it was nice. It was nice to think that you wanted to talk to him, regardless of what it was about. 

“Yeah sure! I’m down to talk, do you want to call? I haven’t seen you in a while. I miss you!” 

“No calling… It’ll just make this harder.” Make what harder? What were you going to say that could possibly be so hard? You weren’t… leaving him… were you? You couldn’t be… He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was devoted to you, he was loyal to you in every way. You weren’t just going to give up on him that easily… Were you? 

“Well, whatever it is that you have to say, I want you to know that I love you. I can’t wait to see you again!” Maybe that text would make you rethink whatever it was that you were about to send. If you knew that he loved you, although he did tell you every single day, maybe you’d realize that whatever you were planning on doing wasn’t the right thing to do. 

“Mingi… I can’t keep this up. I… found someone else…” 

“No you didn’t… No you didn’t!” He was already crying even though he wanted his mind to just forget that he had even read that text. “You love me! Don’t you love me?!” You had to love him… Why else would you have been so sad in the car when he went to the airport? “Is this because I couldn’t visit you after the tour was over? I’m sorry! I’ll come visit you! I’ll buy a plane ticket right now!” 

“It’s not that… I need someone that’s here with me. I don’t just want to keep repeating the same conversations every single day. The schedule differences and… Everything is stacked up against us… We weren’t going to work.” 

How could you say something like that? He was doing everything he possibly could to make it work. He was the one putting in all the effort. He was the one staying up later than he should just to be able to call you and message you when you were free. “No… You just didn’t want it to work… I still do!” His fingers moved like lightning across his screen, his eyes blurred with the tears that he was trying so hard to hold back. “You can’t decide something like that.. If you would have talked to me… We could have made it work.” 

Did you know that you were killing him, that you were breaking his heart? Would you take the words back if he told you? “I don’t want to argue with you… I just wanted you to know…” Were you as nonchalant as your texts made it seem you were? You really didn’t care… But maybe… Maybe if he gave you some time… A bit of time you’d come to realize that you did love him. He won’t message you… He’ll let it simmer… Maybe you’ll end up missing him and messaging him first. 

So he waited, and days turned into weeks, and he thought he’d be able to wait a month, but then you started posting on Instagram. You looked so happy in your pictures, you looked absolutely gorgeous, and the smile that you were wearing was the same one you had given him during those two days he got to be with you. He swiped through, and he was fine… Maybe not as fine as he wanted to be, but he was fine with seeing the pictures of just you. It brought back happier memories of when he was able to actually be with you. Then he got to the last picture, the guy that you were currently with, he assumed, his arms around you and his lips planted to your cheek. 

As if your words hadn’t been enough to have his heart breaking in two, the pictures felt like you were purposely throwing it in his face that he couldn’t be with you, that he couldn’t make you happy. He couldn’t stand seeing it, he was pissed, he was devastated, he wanted to lash out and he wanted to cry. Why were you doing this to him? What had he done? 

There wasn’t a single thought in his mind as he closed the instagram app and went to kakao, not even bothering to text you before his thumb slammed down on the call button. He didn’t care if you answered the first time, he’d just keep calling until you did, and that’s exactly what he had to do. It took 6 times for your exasperated breath to come through the speaker when you finally answered, but he wasn’t going to give you any time to complain. 

“Did you post it to piss me off or upset me? Because you did both! I guess you’re really winning now, aren’t you? You got to break up with a k-pop idol and break his heart! Good for you!” Right off the bat he was ranting, and maybe he sounded a little bit psychotic, maybe he sounded just slightly obsessed, but when you’re in love with someone, isn’t that how it should be? 

The sound of a man talking in the background had Mingis ears perking up. Were you with the guy still? Oh, how he wished the guy would get on the phone, he’d love to have a word with him. “You’re being ridiculous. I had a clear, logical reason to break up with you. I didn’t do it to hurt you or piss you off. I just wanted to be happy.” How could you sound so sad when you were the one that left him. He didn’t do this! You did! 

“What about my happiness?!” He screeched, running his hand through his hair. He had become aware of the rest of the guys all coming into the room to check on him, but he didn’t care enough to stop. You were going to listen to what he had to say, and those that decided to stick around would have to listen to it too. “You gave up on everything… You’re so selfish! And you weren’t even going to tell me!” 

“I was going to tell you!” You shouted back, and for some reason, it made him kind of excited to hear you fighting back. Something about hearing you get emotional over his words… It had butterflies swarming his stomach. “I didn’t even have time to fully think about how I was going to tell you, but you kept fucking messaging me and-” 

“Of course I kept messaging you! You were my girlfriend and I hadn’t heard from you! Don’t try to act like I’m the bad guy when you’re the one who was practically cheating on me!” While he was angry, he was also struggling to keep from laughing. It would probably sound a bit maniacal to start laughing right now though, and that’s the last thing he wanted. He just found it so cute, the way you were swearing and breathing so heavily, he could almost perfectly envision your face right now. 

You huffed loudly, and the sound was so beautiful to him. Maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t hung up yet… You were still making time out of your day that you were spending with your boyfriend to focus on him. “I don’t know why you’re being such an asshole right now… I didn’t do anything to you. I never cheated on you… We… What we had… It couldn’t even be considered dating… We were only together for two days…” 

Now he was laughing though, his head falling back as the sound built in his chest. “Yeah okay! Let’s just hope that your boyfriend doesn’t have to go out of town or leave the country for more than a week. You might replace him too!” He shot back and he could almost hear the eye roll from your end. “Maybe you’re not actually meant for relationships, you just want someone to physically dote upon you daily. Sorry I couldn’t fit your selfish needs into my already busy schedule.” 

A small sniffle and the shuffling of fabric, maybe you were wiping your tears or maybe your wonderful boyfriend had come over to wipe them for you. “You’re being unnecessarily mean to me right now…” You whispered, sniffling again before swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry that you’re hung up… And I’m sorry that my happiness is upsetting you. I’m not asking you to stick around though… I’m not forcing you to. You don’t have to stalk my life… You can unfollow me.” 

Of course he wasn’t going to do that. He couldn’t imagine not seeing you on his feed when he opened Instagram, or not having your messages to look back on when he missed you too much. “You’re happiness won’t last long… You’re too selfish to be truly happy with anyone. The first time you can’t get exactly what you want, you give up. Have fun with that.” 

“I-” He quickly hung up, and it was only then that it sank in what he had done… And a wide smile spread across his face. He’d be kicking his feet if they weren’t touching the floor over the edge of the bed. The call only lasted 20 minutes tops, but hearing your voice that long… It was amazing, it made his heart beat a mile a minute and that familiar warm and fuzzy feeling washed over him. 

“Dude… What the fuck?” Wooyoung finally spoke up, concern masking the man's features as he stared at Mingi on the bed. No one had ever heard him talk like that before, and truthfully, he looked and was acting like a complete psychopath right now. “Who was that? What’s going on right now?” 

“I found a way to talk to her…” Mingi said, his chest rising and falling heavily as he let himself drop back onto the bed. He was happy, the happiest he’s been in weeks. “She’ll keep talking if we argue… I just have to keep arguing with her… Then she’ll come back to me. She’ll realize how much she misses me… This’ll work. I know it will.”

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[phaticserpent]

Hi!! Are you up to making an NSFW alphabet for Jack Frost (ROTG)? I don’t see much for him in the fandom & it’d be cool to see some written fan content of him! ^^; if not that’s coolio 🫶 Also happy new year ^3^

!! I will do my best! :D

Warning: nsfw, suggestive and implied

NSFW Alphabet of Jack Frost (ROTG)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Truthfully, he's a pretty cuddly person. Years of isolation made him touch starved, after something so intimate and personal, he's clinging to you. His arms would be wrapped around your body, cooling you off because he's extremely cold

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Oh, definitely his chest and abdomen. He's slightly lanky but fit and toned, not too jacked but not too skinny. He especially loves your touches, your hands running down his chest and torso

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

I don't think....he can do that. LISTEN, he drowned in a freezing cold lake, if we're being logical, then he wouldn't be able to. But logistics aside, if he could, he'd accidentally cum inside. Immediately freezing everything as he realized what he did

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

I doubt he has any, but after doing it a couple of times, he's developed the strange urge to start a family (I know it's human instincts). It started off as wholesome thoughts, wanting a domestic life with you which slowly began to morph into determination after realizing the process of reaching a domestic life. He wouldn't voice it, but given the amount of times he's finished inside of you and the relentless pursuit is there and a slight hint to it

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Eh, I feel like he's not experienced at all. Given his situation, he doesn't really understand it. In a relationship with him, you would have to initiate most of the advances, first kiss? You did that. He'd probably look so confused and lost when you asked and said you wanted to take the relationship to the next level. He assumed marriage.

F= Favorite position

Anything where he can see your face and body, he likes seeing you. He's more so fascinated, watching as his cock connects with you, feeling your warm walls squeezing and gripping him tightly as he continues to thrust into you. He finds it addicting - okay but he's definitely a switch though, he likes watching you ride him

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He's the president of goofy, teasing you and easing up the tension (especially if it's your first time) - he'd crack a couple jokes or two, only if you're feeling embarrassed by something and he wants to lessen that. Nothing has to be perfect, he just wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself

H= Hair (grooming habits)

He wouldn't really have access to razors, but it's pretty clean and manageable

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

He's a romantic. He may seem cold and feels cold, but he wants to make sure you're comfortable and feeling every inch of him. He would hold your hands as he rocks his hips, pushing into you

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

To be honest, I don't think I see him doing something like that. I feel like he'd keep his private life separate from the outside, he wouldn't want to risk something like that. But in the confines of your room and house, he'd try if you're not there to help him relieve himself

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Temperature play, for sure, and marking. He doesn't really know, all he likes is your reaction to things. His cold fingers make you squirm and he likes watching how your nipples harden under his touch. The way your walls flutter around his cock when he marks your neck and shoulder. He's just figuring things out, but he'd be into anything that's for your pleasure (slight breeding)

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Your room, your house, anywhere private. Your bed and sometimes, if bold enough, the couch and kitchen, bending you over and taking you right then and there

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

You. Just you. Of course, he takes the time to appreciate soft gestures and moments with you, cuddling and kissing. Again with taking the first step, you mostly have to initiate if you want it or not. Sometimes, he'll get the hint when the kissing begins to turn more hands-on, and your hands slip under his hoodie

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Anything that hurts you or anything that pushes a boundary between you and him. He knows temperature play can be risky, his touch isn't too cold and his fingers don't exactly freeze your limbs at first touch. But, he's nervous at times and wants to make sure that he doesn't cause any pain (marking is different and so is biting, he mostly started off as little nips here and there)

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He's never received nor gave, so he has no clue what he's doing when he goes down on you. But he definitely tries and for some reason, he's good at it. He eats you out like he's starving, wanting more. He doesn't object when you offer to do the same and he's definitely sensitive. Whatever you do, it's pure bliss for him, his head is thrown back, and he's holding onto anything to keep himself grounded

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Okay, he's gentle and slow at first. If you ask him to go faster and rougher, he will. He loves hearing you beg and moan louder as he pounds into you

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Well, it depends. He's not usually fond of it because I feel like he's the type of guy to finish something he started. Plus, just once is never satisfactory, he wants to make sure he can enjoy it as long as possible. On the other hand, he'd definitely do something like it to edge and tease you

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He's new, he's going to be taking small steps at a time. So, he'll be open to new things once he's comfortable moving up the scale

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Oh, he can go for hours and hours. He doesn't exactly get tired. If you rile him up since morning, he can go until the afternoon, making sure both of you are satisfied

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Never tried and not against the idea. He'd find it amusing and tease you if he accidentally walked in on you using a vibrator/toy during his absence. He'd definitely say something like, "miss me that much?"

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

He's a tease, with a shit-eating grin he would tease you until you whined and begged for him

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Absolutely. He'd talk you through it, whining and moaning into your ear at how good you feel, how tight you are, how hot you are. He's not loud, but loud enough for you to hear his every breath and whimper

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

He's a wholesome guy, I actually can't think of anything for this one. Unless being oblivious to his good charms and looks is one and he slowly appreciates how you fawn over him and those smirks of his

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

I'd say he's around average, his height is around the 5'9 - 5'10 (?) I believe. So not too long or thick, just average but he definitely works with it

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

I wouldn't say he has a sex drive, sure he has a lot of stamina, but it's more so....You're hot and he likes to pleasure you drive. Your moans and reaction is his drive

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He'll mostly likely follow after you. Once aftercare is finished and taken care of, he'd hold you and feel your breathing slow down, taking in the comfort of the sheets and your presence. Once he sees the golden dreamsand circle around your head, he falls asleep after

[luveline]

Hi I’ve never actually sent a request before so I hope I’m doing this right lol. I was so excited when I saw you wanted to more writing for the Steve zombie au before the established relationship. I die for grumpy pining. I was thinking maybe more reluctant comforting like maybe a thunderstorm or something or honestly just whatever you see fit. I love your writing and your Steve is unmatched. Either way request taken or not I’m sending all the love and good vibes.

hi! thank you for your request my love! steve zombie au —you and steve are surviving together when a freak storm begins, and he can’t stop himself from trying to make you feel better. fem!reader

"In," Steve ushers quickly, "in, in!" 

You force yourself through a gap that's too small for you into the warehouse you've found and out of the rain, an instant bruise forming on your shoulder. You understand his hurry, but it really does hurt. He has similar trouble forcing himself inside. 

Thunder cracks behind him. You jump hard at the sound. "It sounds like it's right on top of us," you say. 

"It might be. Come on," he says, taking your arm into his icy hand, "this way." 

Worried that the storm might be winds from a hurricane at the East Coast, you and Steve had immediately abandoned your plan to start walking up highway I-69 and backtracked to the last building you'd seen on the way, a packing house for toiletries. You hadn't bothered coming inside beforehand, neither of you in want of any necessities that aren't canned goods (or, imagine, fresh food).

You wish you had. Not only would the storm have started while you were already sheltered, but you might have been able to navigate the absolute shitshow of a floor plan without nearly breaking your neck. 

You slip on a greasy patch of floor and Steve yanks you up. He doesn't do it to be cruel; if he hadn't pulled hard you would've fell flat on your face. 

"Shit," he hisses.

"Sorry–" 

"No, just– come on, this way," he says. 

His hair is plastered to his face, soaked despite the hood of his coat and the beanie he'd been wearing, The rain is torrential and freezing cold, carrying a chill that permeates down to the bone. You're less wet than he was, as he'd taken the tarp you sleep under from his backpack and made you wear it like a poncho. 

You don't know if he hates you, when he does stuff like that. He certainly doesn't like you. You figure he resents you for saving his life and not having the grace to insist you part ways. How could you? Everybody was running away, fleeing from the geek cul-de-sac Indiana had become, and nobody who wanted anything to do with you had survived the initial wave. You'd been completely alone, terrified, and you'd risked your life to save him anyways. So when he asked if you were alone, you were honest. When he said, You better come with me, then, you didn't think about it for a minute. 

He probably regrets it in moments like this. And it's worse because you like him. Hero worship, maybe, Steve keeps keeping you alive and you want him to like you more and more every day. 

It's why you hate fucking up. You just want him to see you properly, and not as a girl he has to protect. You want him to know you can protect him back. 

You take the initiative and lead him toward the back of the huge room. He doesn't protest. You figure a corner of the structure would be safer than the middle where the ceiling could sag, and away from the centre of the walls where big windows lined with metal shutters sit. 

Together, you knock coffee pots and plastic cups off of a long table and drag it toward the corner to use as a make shift shield. It's the most protection you can get. 

You sit down, relieved. It can't be ten seconds until your body remembers how cold it is, soaked as you are. 

You already know what to do, and despite the shyness that comes with stripping in front of a boy, and especially a boy that you like, you undress anyways. Shoes first, then your coat. Steve starts to do the same, and you try not to look at one another. 

There are lots of things you worry about, but the stupidest one is body hair. You can't help it —when hair removal is engrained in the feminine experience from birth, it becomes a habit. It's not even that you think it's bad, but you worry that Steve thinks it's gross. Then you remember how many times you've heard one another pee and shake your head at yourself. 

"What's wrong?" Steve asks, shirtless as he pulls his second (and last) pair of jeans over tacky legs. 

You're shirtless too. "Nothing." 

"Your bra is wet." 

You look down at your bra and blink. It's cold, and everyone knows what happens when it's cold and you're braless. "It's the only one I have, I don't wanna flash you." 

"You…" He cracks a very rare smile. It's a twitch of the corner of his lips and nothing more, but it helps you to relax. "I'm not trying anything, but you should take it off. You can wear my hoodie if you're uncomfortable." 

"I guess it's dumb to care." 

"I don't think it's dumb," he says, his head craned as another crack of thunder bellows outside. "You deserve to feel comfortable. I won't look, I swear, I just don't want you to be cold." He looks away from you. "You'll get sick. Then we'd be really fucked."  

You nod. You slip out of your bra and put on your second (and last) t-shirt, which is thinner than the first. You shove your arms in his hoodie but don't zip it closed. 

Steve takes the blanket from his pack and, now wearing his shirt and fresh socks, slots himself next to you and pulls the blanket over your laps. It's an odd juxtaposition: he worries about your privacy but not your personal space. 

"I think it's getting worse," you mumble, head tilted to the side as you listen to the wind roar. 

"We'll be okay." 

You put your hand on your thigh. He puts his hand on his. You slouch against the wall and know you won't be getting any sleep tonight, not while the wind rails.

Time passes like a dragging weight. You wince at every loud whoosh of air, and can't help leaning into Steve's side when somewhere in the warehouse a machine begins to creak. The cold bites your nose, and your toes are stiff despite your new socks. 

You and Steve don't talk much, but eventually he speaks up. 

"Do you need another pair of socks?" he asks. 

"No, it's okay." 

"I won't mind," he says. 

"What if you need them?" 

He gets them out of his pack and tosses them into your lap. You take them, but the wind has seized you up, afraid that any minute now you'll get a storm surge. 

"Hurricanes can't get this far in, can they?" you ask quietly. 

"No. I don't think so." 

You nod your head. "It's loud." 

"I know." 

You put his socks on and try to be level-headed. You think it might be the constant heavy stress that surviving in the wild and against the threat of flesh-eating creatures has put you under that's made you so fragile. A storm wouldn't have scared you this severely before. But your brain is under fire basically every second of the day, even in your sleep, and it weakens your resolve. You've never understood how Steve can be strong in the face of all this awful. 

"It'll be okay," he says again. 

"No, I know…" you say. You don't know, but you don't want to bother him. "I'm fine." 

Thunder cracks at exactly the wrong moment, simultaneous with a sound like a window rattling in its frame. You flinch at his side, your hand jumping on his thigh. 

You go to pull it away and he flattens it to his leg. 

"It's okay," he says, his sternness melting into a softer reassurance. His hair lays in damp curls below his ears, and his face is pale from a lack of sun. "It's just wind. We don't get hurricanes, and if we did, the walls are concrete. You think wind and rain can get through three feet of stone?" 

He lets your hand go. You take it as a queue to remove it.

"Sorry, I don't know why I…" 

Steve clears his throat. "You're not–" He couldn't know what you were going to say about yourself, and you have no idea what he might've said himself. "You don't have to be sorry. For this, anyways. You should be super sorry about other stuff, like losing your pen knife, and trying to convince me to eat that frog," —he pauses as you laugh, the hint of a smile playing on his lips— "but don't bother being sorry about this." 

"People eat frogs," you say quietly, leaning your head against the wall and looking at him through one eye. 

He follows your example and sits the same. After a moment, he pulls the slipped blanket up to your stomach again. "I don't care what people eat. I'm not eating frogs." 

"I didn't want to eat one either," you say. You hadn't. "They do eat them, though." 

"I'm sure they do. Cooked, and with spices. Not raw and covered in dirt. And dead." 

You'd only been joking about eating the frog, but you were both hungry enough to stare at it for a half-second too long. 

Rain drums the ceiling like a far away thrumming. You know you must look awful, wet and dirty. You'd managed to brush your teeth this morning at the very least, but you can't imagine you're the kind of girl Steve would ever want, then or now. 

His gaze dips to your neck. It rests there. 

"I'm not just saying it to make you feel better," he says, stilted once again. "Things… things will be okay. They'll get better. We have to make it out of here." 

Steve has people he needs to find. You'll follow him anywhere at this point, not for love, but he's a good guy, even if he glares more than he talks. He knows how to protect you both. He does stuff he doesn't have to do, like this. His vaguely awkward comfort. His extra socks.

"I know," you say. "We'll be fine."

He nods. You tell yourself that you're imagining the tenderness he puts into such a simple gesture. “Exactly. You worry too much.”

[riotwritesthings]

An Agony We Deserve (Throwing Off Sparks)

WinterIron, M, 5.8k, WIP - reluctant soulmates, angst, drinking, mentions of past ships

There are legends. Soulmate bonds have started and ended wars, they used to reshape the world without any warning. People would change in an instant, abandon and betray everything, become completely unrecognizable, but those are just legends- It can’t be- But they are.

This chapter suuuure went a direction. I really hope you enjoy and don't want to burn me at the stake ahaha

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

~~~

Chapter 3: the ceiling starts to swerve

“This is Colonel Rhodes.”

Rhodey sounds exhausted, and stressed, and Tony knows that as usual it’s at least ninety percent his fault. There’s a cacophony of noise in the background, and Tony’s willing to bet that he’s having a hell of a day.

He wishes he didn’t have to make it worse.

“Hey SourPatch,” Tony forces himself to say in greeting, his throat suddenly dry.

“Holy shit,” Rhodey says in a rush of air, his voice dropping in volume halfway through. There’s a shuffling sound, and then all the background noise is cut off by the heavy thud of a door closing. “Tony, what the hell happened?” He demands in a strained, tense whisper, "you- are you okay?"

“I- I’m fine,” Tony lies.

He’d hoped that hearing Rhodey’s voice would feel comforting, familiar.

Instead he feels… nothing.

No, not nothing. He is relieved to talk to Rhodey again.

But it feels more like- Some small part of him is relieved to have a link to the world. Anything outside of this weird little- soulmate bubble they’ve accidentally set up for themselves, some reminder of what’s real. But even that slice of relief is-

Disconnected.

There’s no warmth to it, no rush of calm comfort that Rhodey’s voice usually gives him. He remembers their decades of friendship perfectly clearly, but- There’s no connection to the voice on the other end of the line, like he’s talking to someone else.

Like he’s talking to a stranger.

Tony’s breath catches wetly in his throat and his eyes burn.

Fuck this stupid bond.

It’s already apparently taken most of his self-control and personal space, replacing them both with- with a stranger. It took all of his plans and goals in Berlin, and probably any remaining scraps of trust his team had in him.

And now this inexplicable thing, some weird imbalance of chemicals or something, is taking his oldest, closest relationship.

Barnes- Bucky- is still staring out the front window, keeping an eye out for whatever and pretending not to listen.

Tony is painfully aware of the distance between them, of the tension winding Bucky’s shoulders up tight. Tony can feel it like a pull in his own chest and if the phone weren’t mounted to the wall he would go over there-

He viciously shoves that thought down, shoves down the ache in his sternum.

Rhodey is still talking on the other end of the line, repeating his name in an increasingly frantic tone, and it’s a struggle to focus on that.

It’s so much easier to focus on the mere feet separating him from Bucky, the way it felt to wake up next to him. Whatever it is that’s been twisting Bucky tighter and tighter since they woke up-

“Tony-”

“I’m here,” Tony says quickly. “I’m okay.”

Over by the window, Bucky’s shoulders twitch up a little higher.

“What happened in Berlin?” Rhodey asks, sounding impossibly more freaked out than he had before.

And that’s the big question, isn’t it? Laughter bubbles up in Tony’s chest before he can stop it, high-pitched and hysterical.

“I’m- It’s- I really can’t get into it right now,” Tony says weakly around slips of laughter that he can’t contain, and he can hear Rhodey’s worry spiking.

Reading his best friend even without seeing him is still as familiar as breathing, but Tony doesn’t *feel * anything.

Not like he can feel Bucky trying and failing not to shift on his feet, painfully curious and trying to fight it. Or maybe just trying to hide it, Tony can’t quite tell but he’s sure that if he got closer-

It’s making it really hard to focus on the conversation. And fuck, he wants to talk to Rhodey. He swears he does. But suddenly it’s not as easy as it’s always been.

“Are you-” Rhodey asks carefully, his voice low, “are you still with him? Are you being held captive?”

The ‘again’ goes unspoken and Tony fights down another hysterical giggle.

He is, but not in any of the ways Rhodey would be expecting. He’s being held captive by himself, by an inability to leave Bucky behind that is so deep-set the idea hasn’t even fully occurred to him.

“Yes, but no, he- he’s here, but it’s nothing like that,” Tony says, because that’s the easy answer. “This is not a Taken situation.”

“That’s not- never mind,” Rhodey says, and things must be really bad if he’s not taking the time to correct Tony on the finer points of action movies.

Fuck, why doesn’t he feel anything?

“So- What then?” Rhodey asks slowly, struggling to wrap his brain around the situation when Tony can’t tell him anything. "Did- I mean, you didn’t- did you kidnap Barnes?"

Tony laughs again and part of him wants to say yes. They kidnapped each other, and themselves, and now they’re holding themselves hostage.

But he knows Rhodey is in no mood for vague jokes.

“Why and how would I have done that?” Tony asks with a strangled chuckle. He remembers the way Barnes had been fighting before they ran into each other, all vicious, brutal efficiency. Even if he’d had his suit, Tony’s not sure he could have gotten The Winter Soldier out of there against the man’s will. At least not alive.

"I don’t know," Rhodey says in a huff, annoyance briefly winning out over his worry, “but Rogers is convinced that you absconded with his friend for some reason.”

“Why?” Tony sputters out while Bucky twitches again.

The other man is more tense than ever, wound so tightly that he’s about to snap. Tony can feel it in his teeth and he wants to dig his fingers into the muscles of Bucky’s shoulders, feel the warmth of him as the tension slowly fades-

"You tell me," Rhodey shoots back. "I’ve seen the security footage, Tones, and no one knows what to think. It looks a hell of a lot like the two of you just- left together."

“That is-” Tony says with a wince, “the extremely short version.” He can tell Rhodey is about to jump in with more questions, and Tony really wants to get to the reason he called. “So, what are people saying, exactly? Other than Steve.”

Rhodey lets out a long, heavy sigh, but tells him.

It’s about as bad as he expected.

There are people who think Tony was captured by the mysterious terrorist, and of course people who think he went rogue and recruited Bucky for his own nefarious purposes. About half of the team thinks it’s some kind of mind control, which would probably break Tony’s heart if he stopped to let himself think about it. But he just urges Rhodey to continue.

Ross has managed to convince a concerning number of people who matter that Tony is some kind of sleeper agent for Hydra, taking back possession of their soldier. Which is an insulting angle for the man to take, he can’t even imagine Tony as a high-ranking undercover genius?

And apparently, Steve thinks Tony kidnapped his best friend. Tony isn’t sure if he should be offended or not. Honestly, he can’t figure out what Steve thinks his reason would be.

“All in all, about half the world is hunting the two of you for one reason or another,” Rhodey finishes. He doesn’t waste a second before demanding, "Now are you going to tell me why?

“I’m sorry, Platypus,” Tony says, and he means it. He wishes he felt it. “I just- I couldn’t-”

Tony knows how he wants to finish that sentence.

‘I couldn’t let anyone take him, couldn’t not go with him, couldn’t fight it.’

But he can’t say any of that out loud, it’s still too raw and terrifying even in his own mind. The power that the bond has over him is still- It’s like a light that’s too bright to look at directly, he can’t face it fully yet.

And he definitely can’t put it into words or he’s pretty sure he’ll throw himself right back into a panic attack.

“I- There was- a thing, and we had to get out of there,” Tony finally says weakly. “And I- I can’t explain it any more than that right now.”

He can hear Rhodey’s displeasure with that answer, but Tony doesn’t feel as guilty as he should. He feels guilty that he doesn’t feel more guilty.

Tony’s chest clenches and he can feel Bucky fighting the urge to turn away from the window to look at him.

“I will, eventually,” Tony promises and hopes like hell it’s not another lie. “I just- I have to wrap my head around this first,” he adds, “and- hopefully my brain won’t fucking explode in the process.”

Rhodey blows out a hard sigh and then asks, “You’ve really gotten yourself into it this time, haven’t you, Tones?”

“You have no idea, SourPatch,” Tony says, fighting down another strangled laugh. He tears his gaze away from Bucky for probably the first time in the conversation so he can rub at his dry eyes. “First I have to- fuck, figure out how to fix this.”

“Well,” Rhodey starts slowly, "it would help a whole hell of a lot if you brought Barnes back-"

“No,” Tony cuts him off, surprising everyone with the vehemence in his voice.

When he drops his hand away from his face he catches Bucky’s eye for a moment, wide and so blue, before Bucky whips his head back around to the window.

“I can’t do that,” Tony continues, trying to keep his tone normal, “he- he’s innocent, Rhodey, he wasn’t even in Vienna.”

He doesn’t need Bucky nodding at the window to confirm it, somehow Tony knows. He’s felt it in the confused tension still wound tightly through Bucky’s chest. In the quiet, terrified exhaustion that started to set in as soon as they made it out of Germany.

Bucky doesn’t know why, or how, but he knows he’s being framed. So Tony knows it too. And he knows that true to Bucky’s word, he’s so used to not having control that he’s not even surprised to be used in this new and creative way.

Rhodey sighs. "Well then, bring him back and prove-"

“C’mon Platypus,” Tony cuts him off again, “you know it isn’t that easy. Someone already got to him while he was in ‘safe custody,’ and if that doesn’t happen again then he’s likely to get ‘disappeared,’ and I can’t-”

Tony’s voice comes to an abrupt stop as his chest clenches painfully, his throat pulling tight. The thought of someone trying to take Bucky away-

The force of the fury that rushes over him knocks the air out of his lungs. Through the pounding of blood in his ears all he can think is that he can’t let that happen, he can’t- he won’t.

No one is going to take his soulmate away from him, not at any cost.

Somewhere far, far beneath the weight of that knowledge, the rational sliver of his mind that remains is terrified to find out what price he’ll be willing to pay.

He doesn’t even want a- but he won’t be able to fight it any more than he’s been able to resist the bond until now, he already attacked Natasha without thought- What else would he do-

Bucky lets out a low, pained sound that Tony snaps out of his spiraling thoughts.

The fuzz and dancing spots fade from his vision as he drags in a shuddering breath, and he sees that Bucky is still politely staring out the window. He can tell that Bucky isn’t actually seeing anything though, too caught up in his own thoughts, in the tension pulling his shoulders painfully tight.

Tony forces himself to take another slow breath, and Bucky relaxes minutely.

"Hey, Tones, Tony-" Rhodey is saying in his ear and it filters slowly into Tony’s consciousness, so much less important than watching Bucky’s hand shake as he balls it into a fist.

“Yeah, yeah I’m still here,” Tony forces out, his voice rough.

He must sound really bad, because Rhodey takes pity on him and doesn’t ask any more questions.

“Look,” he says, almost as gently as he spoke when Tony first came back from Afghanistan, “I’ve been working to clear up all the most ridiculous lies. Are you safe right now, wherever you are?”

Tony only has to stare at Bucky’s back for a second before the man nods stiffly.

“As safe as I can be in a haunted shack,” Tony replies with a weak attempt at a smile, hoping that Rhodey can hear it over the line.

“Okay,” Rhodey says, “okay, here’s the plan.”

~~~

Tony is not a fan of the plan.

He doesn’t like that Rhodey is fighting Ross and his ridiculous lies for him. He doesn’t like that he’s just supposed to wait until Rhodey can make sure that they won’t be black-bagged the second they step foot back on the grid.

And he especially doesn’t like that he’s supposed to wait here, in the farmhouse from hell. With its outhouse and its single broken bed.

Despite the size of the mess, part of him had been looking forward to cleaning it up. Arguing with Steve and rich old senators is at least familiar, would make him feel like he still has some semblance of control over his life.

He was really fucking looking forward to feeling in control again.

Instead he’s still stuck out here, just him and Bucky.

It’s like they’ve left the rest of the world behind and Tony- He needs to get back to the real world. He can’t fight the bond but maybe he could- could ignore it a little more with other people around, with all the complicated problems that he can’t- He can barely remember right now.

The Accords, the Avengers, SI and everything, it’s all so far away. And if he doesn’t get back to it soon-

He’s not sure that he’ll want to.

With a frustrated sigh Tony finally stops glaring at the phone hanging on the wall.

Bucky is still standing at the front window, resolutely pretending to ignore Tony’s conversation. Despite everything, Tony feels a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, excellent ignoring,” Tony says with a huff, “you can stop now.”

After a second of hestiation, his fists still clenched, Bucky turns to face him again and-

Blue.

Tony’s next inhale is so much easier, like his lungs are filling fully for the first time since Bucky stepped across the shack. It’s so damn nice, all the stress of the phone call melting away. The guilt and the distance of hiding from his best friend are inconsequential.

The real world is all mistakes and panic attacks. Why does he need-

Bucky’s gaze drops to the floor and Tony’s chest pulls tight again.

Something is still tearing Bucky apart, and he doesn’t know what.

It’s been getting worse and worse since they woke up, since whatever occurred to him and ruined their relatively peaceful morning. And Tony doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t think it’s just Bucky taking his turn with the panic attack. It’s related to being stuck here for an unknown amount of time, the tension spiked sharply when that part of the plan came up, but that’s not the whole story.

Whatever it is, it’s stabbing through Bucky’s lungs and turning his stomach, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tony can feel it like a phantom pain in his own chest, he can feel it crawling its way up Bucky’s throat.

The silence stretches as Bucky stares at the floor and Tony stares at him. Tony’s pulse is picking up as the tension builds.

It- it’s bad. It’s hanging over them like an anvil, like a guillotine, and Tony stops breathing as Bucky takes a shuddering inhale.

Bucky opens his mouth, and Tony tries to brace himself.

But all Bucky says is, “I was tryin’ not to listen.” His tone is sheepish but his voice is tight, nearly strangled.

Tony lets out a hard rush of air. Part of him wants to pry, most of him wants to pry, but-

He shouldn’t even know that something’s wrong with Bucky. They don’t actually know each other, they met yesterday.

Without the bond he wouldn’t be able to read Bucky at all, or at least not nearly this well. If he tries to pry- It’s like he’s giving into the bond. Accepting it.

And he can’t do that.

So Tony forces himself to let it go, to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s carefully blank face.

“If we’re stuck here, there better be food,” Tony says as he turns towards the small kitchen. “I am not above eating you for survival.”

After a couple of seconds Bucky silently shuffles after him, like he just can’t help himself.

There is food, and most of it is still safely packed in cans and sealed jars. Even if it doesn’t look very appetizing. There’s no coffee, though, which means that Tony’s headache is only going to get worse.

While Bucky hopefully determines if the water is safe, Tony slams through the cabinets a final time. He’s not pouting, but he’s also not actually expecting to find anything else.

Until he discovers the large jar of clear liquid hidden in the back of a high cabinet.

“'S that moonshine?” Bucky asks, suddenly standing just close enough that Tony can feel the rumble of his voice.

“Samanė, I believe,” Tony says, already unscrewing the lid, “which, basically the same thing.”

He’s trying to ignore the shiver running down his spine. And he’s trying even harder to ignore the urge to lean back into Bucky and chase the feeling.

It may not be the best idea at the moment, but Tony does need a distraction. And if he’s stuck here then he’ll take what he can get.

~~~

"This’s strong," Bucky says, squinting into his chipped glass.

Tony hums in agreement.

He’s not sure where his own glass is. He knows he had it when he dropped down onto the couch.

Before he can work up the effort to look for it Bucky is picking Tony’s glass up from the ground and offering it to him. Tony takes it with a grunt of thanks. Bucky quickly returns to staring into his own glass.

His next swig of the strong liquor doesn’t burn, just settles nicely in the warm pit of Tony’s stomach.

The tension is being forcibly melted out of his limbs. All the problems are being drowned out by the pleasant buzzing between his ears.

He considers the other man, because through the warm haze nothing else matters. And he can’t quite remember why that matters right now.

Bucky decided to sit in front of the couch when Tony sprawled out over the entire thing. He’s been shooting Tony increasingly un-subtle looks as they drink. With the way he’s leaning back, if Tony just moved his leg a little it would press against the strong, tense line of Bucky’s shoulders.

Tony takes another sip and forces himself to stay still.

Bucky glances over him again. The faintest hint of pink is spreading across his cheeks.

They’ve been carefully not talking since they started drinking. They don’t really need to.

But Tony still finds himself asking, “Is this- is it doin’ anythin’ for you?”

Bucky looks over at him and Tony tips his glass in explanation. Bucky’s lips twitch as he nods. He returns his gaze to his half-empty glass, then downs it.

"An’ it’s disinfectin’ my throat," Bucky says with a cough and a wince.

“Good,” Tony says as Bucky grabs for the jar again, "pretty sure you’re drinkin’ most of it. And if you’re just doin’ it to feel the burn I will- I’m gonna be mad."

Bucky snorts as he refills his glass.

“And Steve can- can’t even get drunk,” Tony adds.

The words slip out before he can think them through. The way that Bucky flinches minutely at the name isn’t really a surprise. Tony feels bad for bringing it up, he feels-

A lot of things.

He slid further down against the arm of the couch at some point and he’s mostly staring at the stained ceiling. His shin is pressed against the line of Bucky’s shoulders and he doesn’t remember doing that either. It takes effort to lift his head enough to keep Bucky in his field of view.

Now that he’s started Tony can’t seem to stop talking. The words are bubbling up in his throat and he can’t quite remember why he shouldn’t let them out.

So much for their unspoken ‘no speaking’ agreement.

"Still can’t believe he thinks I fuckin’- That I kidnapped you," he says with a snort.

Bucky’s metal thumb moves restlessly around his glass. It clicks against the chipped rim.

“No of-ffense,” Tony adds. He rolls his head along the arm of the couch to stare sideways at Bucky. “You just- you seem more the kidnapper- kidnappy type.”

He watches with fascination as emotions make their way across Bucky’s face. Wondering if he should be offended followed by reluctant amusement. Tony can feel all of it.

And he can feel the cold knot that wraps itself back around Bucky’s lungs as soon as the moment is gone. Tony still can’t put a name to the feeling and he’s getting pretty sick of all the things he can’t explain.

Like what’s bothering Bucky. And the fact that he has a soulmate. And why Steve would even think-

“Wait,” Tony says, failing his way upright. He spills a good half of his drink on his undershirt and takes a split second to wonder when he lost his dress shirt. “Wait,” he says again and has to blink a couple times as the room spins, “wait, did- tell me I didn’-”

He trails off, trying to tell through the haze of liquor if what he’s remembering is real. Bucky looks up at him again, and Tony’s breath catches.

Fuck, when is that going to stop happening? He already has enough trouble breathing.

Bucky is still staring at him and Tony struggles to remember what he’d been about to say.

“Was- Is there any truth to the rumors of- of war-torn lovers?” Tony asks, alarm creeping into his voice. "Did I steal Captain America’s boyfriend?"

The way Bucky’s eyes go wide and his shoulders hunch up around his ears says plenty, even as his mouth opens and closes wordlessly.

Tony groans as he flops heavily back down onto the couch. At least he doesn’t spill his drink this time. There’s a laugh building in his chest, edged with hysteria. It certainly explains a lot.

“I think he might- he might actually kill me,” Tony says to the shifting patterns on the ceiling.

They fall into silence while Tony tries to wrap his head around just how fucked up this is. He can hear Bucky finishing off another glass. His own drink is suddenly sitting a little too warm in his gut.

“It wasn’-” Bucky says slowly and Tony cranes his head around to look at him. “It wasn’ really like that. Or- We jus’- We never-”

“Never quite found the right time?” Tony guesses when he trails off. Because isn’t that how all the tragedies go?

Bucky nods into his empty glass, his expression twisted in misery.

The hot pit of something in Tony’s stomach is getting worse, starting to crawl its way up his throat. He’d almost think he’s about to be sick except-

He’s jealous. It’s jealousy burning its way through his chest, familiar but twisted.

Which is stupid for so many reasons, but the biggest one is that he doesn’t need to be. According to all the legends Bucky can’t- They’re stuck together now. Neither one of them can leave.

Tony has to remind himself that it’s because they don’t have a choice. It shouldn’t be comforting, to know that someone can’t leave him, can never even want to-

No, he wants Bucky- Someone, he wants someone to have a choice about staying with him.

He tells himself that’s what he wants. He wishes he believed it.

“I need more- more booze,” Tony says as he pushes himself upright, "way more booze for this fuckin'- conversation."

Bucky hands him the jar, turning towards him in the process. Tony squints at the amount of liquid remaining before taking a swig directly from the jar.

"You- What’d you mean, rumors?" Bucky asks. His eyebrows are pinched and it’s-

Definitely not adorable.

Tony hums and takes another sip, stalling.

“You, uh-” he says slowly, “the two of you- may have been a brief topic. In my- Um, in my queer history elective?”

Bucky blinks slowly. Then he lets out a long groan and drops his face to the couch cushion next to Tony’s thigh.

“Sorry,” Tony says with a wince and does his best not to laugh. “Is that- Is it better or worse than bein’ a ghost?”

“Worse,” Bucky mutters into the couch.

Tony decides not to tell him about the recovered sketches that were shown in that class.

When Bucky eventually lifts his head again it’s to steal the jar of Samanė back and take a long drink. His face is distinctly more flushed and loose strands of hair are clinging to his forehead.

The rest of the room is spinning, but Tony has no problem focusing on the tired blue of Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky looks away again, embarrassment and some new flavor of guilt twisting him up. There’s no sadness though, and Tony’s pretty sure that’s the reason for at least half of the guilt.

“You- Don’ feel bad,” Tony says and nudges his knee against Bucky’s shoulder. “Who- I mean who hasn’t had a big ol’ crush on Steve?” He adds sarcastically.

He slowly realizes he’d forgotten to add any sarcasm to his voice as Bucky raises an eyebrow at him. Tony could try to play it off, but he can feel his own cheeks warming. And Bucky will see right through him.

“There was a fan club at my boarding school,” Tony says defensively. He’s not sure if it helps his point or not.

Bucky snorts out a laugh halfway through taking another drink and winces. Tony doesn’t feel bad for him. But he can’t stop talking.

"And then I met Steve, which- He’s- I mean, I guess I don’t have to tell you-" Tony finds himself saying, despite swearing he’d never admit this to anyone.

It’s easier than he would have thought. The battle of New York and everything that followed feels so far away now. He remembers all the feelings, the hurt followed by longing and the sting of rejection when Steve- when no one stayed-

But it’s like it all happened to someone else. Like he read it in a story.

Bucky is still watching him, arm propped up on the couch. The flush of liquor doesn’t hide the complicated mix of emotions moving over his face as he waits.

"Not that anythin’ ever- y’know, happened," Tony finishes quickly and doesn’t bother wondering why he needs to assure Bucky of that. “He never- And I’m me, so-”

Tony sinks his teeth into his lower lip, cutting himself off. Bucky’s eyebrows furrow. He starts to open his mouth, and Tony cuts him off too.

“And then someone came back to life,” he says with the best glare he can work up at the moment, “an’ there- there went my chance. Or my delusional dream of a chance, anyways.”

Bucky winces apologetically and offers him the liquor. Tony laughs and takes it while he watches the other man clench his jaw. This time he knows exactly what Bucky is feeling.

“Super weird backward jealousy pangs, right?” He asks knowingly and tries not to be pleased about it. He fails.

A wry smile pulls at Bucky’s lips as he nods slightly. He drops his gaze to the couch and watches himself pick at the worn fabric.

“An’- An’ what about now?” Bucky asks without looking up. “Was- I-Is there-”

It takes Tony a second to figure out what he’s asking, and then he huffs.

“No, no worries,” he says, leaning forward slightly to pat Bucky’s metal elbow. “You’re not the- the homewrecker here, jus’ me.”

For a second he doesn’t even remember that that wouldn’t have been true, a couple of weeks ago.

The breakup with Pepper had been so fresh and raw even- fuck, just a day ago. When he’d been reluctantly admitting it to Steve and fighting down a twisted mess of emotions. Now it doesn’t hurt any worse than when his first crush had laughed in his face.

The soulmate bond makes one hell of a bandaid, and at least that’s something.

Bucky is still staring at him, like he can see Tony going over all of that in his mind. And he probably can. Tony’s hand is still resting on the other man’s metal arm, and he wonders if Bucky can feel it.

The silence stretches and Tony takes an uncomfortable swig of Samanė. He should probably move his hand, but he doesn’t.

“I am- 'M pretty good at chasing people off all- all on my own,” he can’t help adding, and Bucky’s eyebrows furrow again. “Don’ make that face at me,” Tony says and lifts his hand to poke Bucky between the eyebrows instead.

Bucky blinks and his face softens in surprise. Then he laughs, and Tony grins as his heart thumps in his chest. Bucky reaches up to grab Tony’s hand and pull it away from his face. Their fingers fit together without any effort and Bucky’s skin is surprisingly soft against his.

“Why d’you- you keep-” Bucky starts and then trails off, distracted. He runs his thumb over a burn scar on the side of Tony’s hand.

Tony’s breath catches and doesn’t restart as Bucky’s thumb moves down to his palm. He can feel the swirls of Bucky’s thumbprint against his skin. Every drag sends a bolt of warmth through him that the warmth of the liquor can’t compare to.

He inhales shakily when Bucky looks up at him, caught in those blue eyes.

What had they been talking about? He doesn’t remember now.

Bucky licks his lips and Tony stares. The way they’ve been drinking, they probably taste the same- And once the thought hits him Tony has to know-

He’s not sure which of them leans forward. Maybe him, because the room is spinning again. Bucky sighs and Tony can feel the rush of air against his cheek.

Tony shifts his fingers against Bucky’s wrist and realizes he can feel Bucky’s rapid pulse. He’s pretty sure his own heart is beating in time and he’s still moving closer.

It’s like he’s being pulled in, like he doesn’t have a choice.

Does he even need a choice? This feels- Why does he need anything else when this is so-

Right.

He can almost feel Bucky’s lips against his. Tony’s eyelids flutter as he struggles to keep them open.

He wants-

Beneath his fingers, Bucky’s pulse skips. It stops entirely for a terrifying second, then starts racing sickeningly. Something cold rushes through Bucky and he sucks in a sharp breath as he jerks away.

His hand slips away from Tony’s.

It’s just like this morning. The same icy chill running through Bucky as he pulls away. The same gut-twisting feeling that’s- It’s like guilt but so much more complicated.

It's different than when they were talking about Steve, or anything else. It’s-

Part of Tony doesn’t want to know.

Bucky won’t meet his eyes. He’s curling in on himself, withdrawing.

And Tony can’t let that happen. He can’t let this keep happening. He can’t-

He tightens his grip on the nearly empty jar and swallows thickly.

“Alright, out with it,” he says.

“What?” Bucky asks, practically flinching. He pulls his arm off the couch and curls it into his chest.

“Out with it,” Tony repeats, his voice shaking. “Whatever you need to tell me, just spill. It- It’s been driving you crazy all day and that- it’s driving me crazy.”

Bucky goes carefully still. He doesn’t look up. He’s not breathing.

Tony waits. He bites his lip again so he won’t start demanding answers.

There are already so many things right now that he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand. He needs to know.

What could be so bad?

This isn’t- Bucky isn’t supposed to be able to pull away. He can’t, that’s not how it- This isn’t fair.

Tony can’t completely swallow down a hurt noise. His eyes burn. It feels like his chest is cracking open, his lungs filling with ice- with snow-

Bucky’s gaze flicks up to him and then down again, expression pained. Blue eyes haunted.

Neither of them are breathing now.

He can’t stop thinking that none of this is fair.

Tony doesn’t- he didn’t even want a soulmate and now- The thought of Bucky pulling away is gutting him. It’s not fair that something as stupid as a secret is cracking his chest open.

It isn’t fair of him to need answers, either. Part of him knows that. They’d still be strangers, if they had a choice-

But they don’t.

“Bucky,” he says, his voice a harsh croak. A plea. He wants to reach out, but he doesn’t.

The other man flinches like he’d shouted. Tony waits.

Finally Bucky drags in a shuddering breath and tears his eyes away from his own hands. He practically snatches the jar from Tony and finishes off the Samanė in one long swallow.

Tony’s stomach churns as he continues to wait.

Bucky takes another steadying breath and fixes his gaze over Tony’s shoulder. His jaw clenches. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

The crater in Tony’s chest gets deeper.

“N-Nine- Nineteen Ninety One,” Bucky eventually manages to get out. His voice is raw and his eyes are glazed, unseeing. “December n-ninet-teenth.”

That’s all he says for a long moment and Tony is still waiting.

He doesn’t even recognize the date for a split second, and then he’s just confused.

“I-I was-” Bucky continues haltingly. The feeling of cold gets worse. “I- It wasn’ an accident.”

It doesn’t makes sense. Tony knows that date, but it was- His parents died in an accident. He knows that. He-

“What?” Tony asks flatly. Blankly. He doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t- it doesn’t make sense.

Bucky swallows thickly. His cheeks are wet and all the color has faded from his face.

Tony wants to reach out, but he doesn’t.

He can’t move.

“December N-Nineteenth,” Bucky says again. His hands are clenched together so tightly that they both shake. “It wasn’ an- I-I was there, I- I’m th- I-”

Bucky’s voice cuts off, strangled. He clenches his jaw.

There’s a sick feeling rising in Tony’s throat, and he’s not sure which of them it belongs to.

“You- what’re you-” Tony starts to ask, gasping the words out.

But he doesn’t need to.

Bucky blinks rapidly and then meets Tony’s eye. He looks so-

It-

Everything hurts.

And Tony-

He knows.

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

we all love avatar/bosch, but i offer you avatar/ed as a concept, because i'm deep in the ship trenches

Ohh! Avatar/Ed is such an interesting ship. and srry for the wait! I didn't forget about you I swear! I honestly thought he would have more fics on tumblr because of how popular he is. And here I thought Bosch was the underappreciated one. Dude barely has 5 fics to his name. Also I didn’t know if this was a statement or a request, so I present you with some headcanons. Enjoy!

Ed doesn't want civilians getting caught in his fight to free people from Shadaloo's experiments. So he tells you that if you stay with him you may regret it.

He's quite distant and cocky when he talks to people, so expect some push back when you try to get close to him.

That's kind of expected when he tells you to get lost after you reached your full mastery with him.

He doesn't care about who you used to be or if you have regrets about the past, he only cares about the version of you in front of him. The You now.

His friends are important to him, they're like his family, so he would want you to be on good terms with them before he continues the relationship.

He hides most of his feelings behind a wall, but when he finds people he cares about Ed will develop a soft spot for them.

He's one of those people who can take a punch better than he can take a hug.

But that doesn't mean he'll push you away if you decide to be affectionate with him. He'll tense up at first, then he'll relax once he realizes you aren't a threat.

Ed would want you to meet Balrog someday, and meet the man that shaped him to be who he is. Well...he'll bring you to him whenever Ed decides to reach out to him.

Every person who wields Psycho Power uses it in a way to enhance their own individual skill. So he'll work with you to help you find your unique style to the best of his ability.

As your master and potentially your future bf, he wants to make sure you're not using Psycho Power all willy-nilly. It's dangerous and he doesn't want you to get seriously hurt, despite you telling him you can handle yourself.

His observation skills are sharp so he can pick up small things about you that you probably haven't noticed about yourself. Like habits or certain mannerisms.

So he can tell when you really want something when your eyes linger on it for a split second longer. Which he ends up getting for you because he likes to see you smile.

Ed can also see when you want to be affectionate with him in public. He saw you catching glances at his hands when walking beside him. But you tucked your hands in your pockets after a while of contemplating. He reluctantly offered his hand to you, because as much as he hates PDA he likes you more.

He still has nightmares every so often that makes him wake up in a cold sweat, so please hug him and tell him everything's fine.

In SF6 there are hints of corruption in his KO win pose where he laughs manically. He snaps out of it fairly quickly when you point it out and gets ashamed for letting his emotions get the best of him.

As much as a hard ass he is, he appreciates it if you check up on him just like he does with you.

Like that fortune teller said, Ed is scared of losing himself and turning into something else. Would you even recognize him?

He does get concerned if he hasn't heard from you in a while, which prompts him to go on a full-blown search. Even if you don't think it isn't a big deal, he does. So he wants to make sure you're okay.

If you're not feeling well mentally, he'll lend his ear to you. He has his fair share of rough days, but if there's anything he can do to relieve some of your stress he'll do it.

On the flip side, he doesn't want to pick fights with you but it sometimes happens when he gets frustrated. Ed has a lot of burden on his shoulders and it doesn't help if you're always sticking your nose in dangerous situations all the time.

He cares, he really does. It's just that he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you.

Falke would knock some sense into him if he ever goes too far and forces him to apologize to you. Makes him get on his knees and everything.

Balrog was his unofficial official father figure so Ed picked up on some of his habits later on in life. Good and bad. And his inability to show his emotions without it turning into frustration is one of them.

He'll try to tone it down for you in the future, but it is something he's going to have a hard time with, especially since he's already having an internal conflict with himself on a daily basis.

There are 2 types of kisses I can see him giving: short and abrupt or long and passionate. It depends on his mood and if he's in public. He would hate to be seen as that couple who can't stop locking lips at the train station. He'll get embarrassed.

He would also want to spar against you and help you fix your form when you're off balance. As mean as it sounds, he'll make you fall on your ass and tell you to do it again. In his head, he's teaching you how to be a better fighter. But if it gets too much, tell him. And he'll adjust his demeanor towards you.

Like those cheesy romcoms. Ed would give you his oversized jacket when it got too cold outside. But don't tease him too much about it because he'll threaten to take it back. He won't.

Ed roams freely at night, so most of your dates will consist of street food and fighting. He also likes to go to the movies with you and watch those shitty horror movies whenever he has downtime.

But ultimately, he's never in one place for too long. And if you want to keep in contact with him, you better like long-distance relationships.

Because of the distance, he'll call you at least once a day no matter where he is, because he wants to hear your voice. How's it been? Are you doing okay? Any assholes giving you shit? Etc.

But similar to his father, if things get too dangerous on his end, he'll contemplate cutting you off from his life.

He's the type of lover who genuinely wants the best for you, with or without him.

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

final part

pairing: anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 6.3k

note: so here we are, some 8 months later this series is done! having mixed feelings rn but anyway i'm so glad i got to share this with you guys and there's a lot more to come

taglist: @demigoddess-of-ghosts ; @sub-text ; @mothman21 ; @aislinrayne ; @oblivious-idiot ; @neewtmas ; @maraschinomerry ; @bella-rose29 ; @bobbys-not-that-small ; @novelizt ; @fudosl ; @archiveoftara ; @cassiopeiia24

[from Lockwood’s pov]

It was still early when he started to emerge from his dreamless sleep. The few hours of rest he managed to get weren’t enough to drown out the confusion that had taken over his thoughts ever since Barnes had showed up yesterday. The sun wasn’t up yet. Time stood still and everything was quiet. He tossed and turned trying to fall back asleep but the blinking of the ghost lamp around the corner kept lighting up his room in a soft fluorescent light.

After y/n had gone up to the attic yesterday, he had stayed with George discussing new plans. They had spent dinner going over their notes from the previous weeks, their scribbling blackening the white cloth with new ideas. The problem was that they needed to take on new cases and planning for the party had already exhausted them. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Dufour would have to wait a few more weeks until they were ready to strike again. The plate George had prepared for her was going cold and not seeing her come down, Lockwood had tried to bring it up for her. He had been relieved to find her fast asleep and not brooding about Barnes’ news. Even though she had woken up late after the night they spent at the fundraiser, she hadn’t seemed to be doing so great. He really hoped it was the champagne and not something else.

Thinking back to the night before, it was a miracle she had talked to him at all that afternoon. He had tried from the very beginning to separate work from his personal life. Whatever was the nature of his feelings towards her, whether it be hatred or otherwise, they had to have each other’s back in the field and that was all that mattered. Somehow, she still managed to tear down his walls of defense. Saying he had lost control at that party would have been an understatement. From the moment her lips stained his cheek red, all logic flew out the window. Between his proximity, his jealousy and the few terms of endearment that had slipped his mouth during the night, he had turned their working relationship into a minefield without a doubt.

She had rolled over, interrupting his train of thoughts. He had looked at her with fondness while she stretched in her sleep before settling back on her side. He then had gone back downstairs, thinking that rest would probably do her some good. He hadn’t had the opportunity to bring her even more bad news that night. But now here he was, the following day, with this unpleasant discussion still ahead of him and it certainly wasn’t going to let him fall back asleep. He reluctantly pushed his blanket away and pulled his grey hoodie over his head.

After his usual breakfast tea, and a second mug for comfort, Lockwood paced around the library while he waited for y/n to wake up. He had to tell her she wouldn’t get her revenge any time soon, the sooner the better. But did he really have to? The last time he refused to help her they had one of their worst fights. He certainly didn’t want that to happen again. All he wanted was for them to get along. That was a lie. What he really wanted was for her to look at him with the same fondness she had the night before, even just for an instant. He wanted her to tell him what she had meant when she’d admitted she had let her feelings get the best of her. He wanted to hold her in his arms again. What a mistake this had been. The three of them would go under if they didn’t take on new cases soon. And they would all have him to blame, just because he let his feelings get in the way of his work.

When he looked back at the clock on the wall, it was already 8:30. y/n had been supposedly asleep for twelve hours now. Granted she didn’t look too well yesterday, she still should have been awake by now.

For the third time, he went back to the kitchen for another mug of tea. He ran towards the door when he finally heard footsteps coming that way. He was greeted with George’s disheveled look instead of the person he was expecting to see. His smile faltered and he went back to standing next to the counter without saying a word.

“Good morning to you too…”

He poured his friend a cup of tea as a form of apology.

“Sorry,” he said while handing it to him, “I thought you were y/n”

George stared at him with a torn expression, hesitating between a snide comment or a sarcastic joke. He took a sip of his tea and sighed.

“She’s been asleep for a while now.”

Before Lockwood could share his worry, a knock on the front door interrupted him.

“Did we have any appointments scheduled today?”

“No, the last one I scheduled is tomorrow at 10”

He frowned and went back up the few steps and answered the door. Lucy and Norrie smiled at him, brandishing a dessert box from the corner shop.

“Lucy, you shouldn’t have. We owe everything to you. I should be the one buying you doughnuts.”

“It’s not too late for that!” She winked.

“Did everything go well with DEPRAC?” Norrie asked.

“Well…” He hesitated. “Not exactly. Come in.”

He ushered them inside, explaining the talk they had with Barnes the day before.

“How did she take it?” Norrie asked about y/n.

“I’m not sure…”

Lucy placed the box of treats on the small table in the hall to take off her coat and knocked over some of the items lying there.

Apologizing, she bent down to retrieve them. She put them back and handed Lockwood a camera film.

“You shouldn’t let that lie around out of its wrapping paper, the dust could damage it.”

“What’s this?”

“I don’t know I knocked it over just then.”

He put it in his pocket, wondering where it could have come from, and looked nervously at the clock in the living room. Lucy hung her coat in the hall before taking back the box they had brought and making her way into the kitchen. It took him a second to realize that her coat was hanging in the spot where y/n’s usually was. He looked down and noticed her shoes weren’t there either. Either she had gone to bed with them, or something was wrong. And he had a hunch it was the latter. He didn’t think twice and climbed the steps two by two in a rush to the attic. As he had suspected, her bed was empty. It had been a long time since she had bailed on them, and he thought he wouldn’t have to handle this kind of situation anymore. But apparently, he had failed to see how much this issue affected her. Barnes had told her explicitly to not go look for evidence herself and she had done the exact opposite. Though it would be unfair to blame her for it, he probably would have done the same thing. He rushed back downstairs and stormed into the kitchen.

“y/n is gone.”

The serious look on his face was enough to make the room go silent.

“Where could she be?” Lucy asked, worried.

“Considering this,” he tossed the camera film from earlier to George, “I’m going to guess she went to get evidence herself last night.”

Another silence stretched as they all considered his words. George seemed to shut down. He stared at the table without a word. When his eyes came back into focus, he asked

“When do you think she left?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything. Did you?”

“I thought I heard something, but I figured it was you. “

“When was it?” Lockwood pressed.

“Around three?” He stood up and pushed his chair back. “Or four maybe?”

She had been gone for over five hours and still hadn’t come home. She could have gone anywhere, she could have met anybody… before he could spiral any further, George got up. He didn’t wait for Lockwood to answer and headed towards the hall.

“Where are you going? We need to think! Where could she have gone?”

“I don’t know but I’m going to find her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Lockwood had to put himself between the door and his friend to keep him from taking a step further. George looked back at him defiantly.

“George, no. I’m not losing you too because you wanted to play hero.”

“That’s rich coming from you!” He yelled back. “I’m doing this. She’s only going after Dufour because I shared my suspicions in the first place. This is all my fault and I need to fix it.” He mumbled.

“We,” he emphasized, “need to be smart about this.”

“We don’t have time! The last time she wandered by herself at night she got chased by relic men, she could be-”

“I know!” Lockwood shouted.

They stared at each other, considering the unspoken words. The air was thick with tension and panic started to clutch his chest tighter.

“Someone needs to go after her.” George insisted.

“And someone needs to get DEPRAC.” Lockwood stared at his best friend with an unspoken plea. George looked back at him with a furrowed brow, fidgeting with the zipper of his orange parka. Lockwood was used to the researcher’s passive expressions. Sometimes, they could barely be called expressions at all. But now his eyes were filled with worry, a genuine please begging to let him go.

“I… I’ll take care of DEPRAC.”

George sighed in relief and reached for the door once more.

“But you are not going there alone.” Lockwood said, resting a hand on his shoulder before he could run off.

“We’ll go!” Lucy intervened.

“Are- are you sure?” Norrie asked, surprised by her girlfriend’s sudden interest for dangerous missions.

“She’s our friend too, and she needs our help. Where do we begin?”

---

[back to reader’s pov]

The sound of a window breaking jolted her awake. Her head was hurting, an ache pressing on her temples so much her vision was blurry. She released a pained sigh, barely noticing the girl getting up from her fall through the back window who was shaking the last remnants of glass out of her wavy auburn hair. She only noticed she was there when she took her by the shoulders, shaking her awake. It took her embarrassingly long to realize that Lucy was the one coming to her rescue. Before she could open her mouth, the girl slapped her across the face, hard enough to make her lose balance and trip over the edge of the chair she was sitting on. The ties at her wrists and feet kept her in place and the sudden pain from tugging on them woke her up for good. Through heavy eyelids she turned her head to see the back window intact and the room she was in empty.

The sun was up now. She wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up here but clearly her suicidal plan, if anyone could even call it that, had backfired in the worst way. She vaguely recalled leaving the house in the middle of the night with nothing but a camera in her bag and heading towards Fittes. The rest of the night was a blur. She guessed from the ache at the back of her head that she had found who she had been looking for but they had found her too. Their identity became clear when she heard voices coming from the corridor leading to the room she was held in. She pretended to be unconscious and listened as their steps echoed closer.

“I’m not in the business of knowing what he’s up to. I sell him the sources he asks for and move on. But with that DEPRAC audit, I’m losing my biggest client.”

“What do I care?” A man’s voice asked dejectedly.

“No clients for me means no payment for you, you idiot. We need a new buyer and we need them now!” A door slammed, making her jump. She kept her eyes closed, listening to the voices becoming less muffled with each step.

“Can you find me a contact in the Society, or do I have to ask someone else?” Dufour asked, as pleasant as she had known her when she got fired.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Yes, you will.” The two of them entered the room she was held in. “And watch her, make sure she doesn’t cause any more trouble. You know what to do if she does.”

Despite the shudder running down her spine, y/n remained still. She would not let the ominous threats break her spirit. She would not give into her fear. Time stood still when the door closed, leaving her alone with who she could assume was a relic-man armed to the teeth. She listened to his footsteps pace the room while trying to keep her breath steady. However, she could not help flinching when the footsteps stopped a few steps away from her, the sound of heavy boots resonating in the room before stopping in an even louder silence.

“You can stop acting, you’re really terrible at this.” Said a familiar voice.

She had expected a low, menacing voice but instead it was El’s sardonic tone that made her open her eyes. To her surprise, the first thing she saw was in fact a relic-man standing menacingly a few steps away from her. El was leaning against the wall on her left, playing with a pocketknife.

“So… I see you’re still terrible at making decisions.”

“You really think you’re better when you have me tied up in a basement?” The pounding in her head made it hard to think.

“This isn’t a basement and we wouldn’t have had to if you had just minded your own business.”

“Where are we then?”

“You really think you’re that clever? You’re not subtle. The only thing you can do is mess things up!”

“You mean keep you and Dufour from dealing relics you stole from your clients? I won’t let you get away with it that easily, no.”

“You ruined everything.” Their voice sounded final, decisive. A few nights ago they had threatened her without shame. Today, it was a death sentence.

“What did I do to you El? We were friends. Then, out of nowhere you trick me to get me fired and you get murderous tendencies?”

“It must be nice remaining so unaware all this time.” They sighed dreamily, however their face remained stern.

“What are you talking about?”

“Before coming to Fittes, you worked at Tendy’s, correct?”

“How did you-”

“My uncle died seven years ago. My cousin took it hard, and I’d always been close to them, so it wasn’t easy for me either. He came back, and they had to hire someone to fix it. Tendy’s agents came by, messed up the case. They couldn’t find the source so we had to watch them take every last thing that belonged to my uncle to burn it in the furnaces. Grieving wasn’t easy after that. Those stupid kids took every last memory we had of him because they were incompetent. Then, a few years later, guess who happened to be my new roommate?”

y/n stayed silent.

“Not only did I have to live with you but I had to see you succeed and get promoted above me when we both knew perfectly well how unfit you were for the job.”

“I was thirteen. I followed what my supervisor told us to do.”

“You didn’t get any better at making decisions later on! Listening to you and your amazing cases working with Kipps, saying how much you wanted to climb the corporate ladder of the Fittes organization. Not on my watch. You didn’t deserve it then and you certainly don’t deserve it now.”

“And getting me fired wasn’t enough?”

“Of course not! When I applied to get the spot I deserved all along I got denied because Kipps took your side! I had to work with Dufour because of you!”

She eyed Dufour’s arm man, wondering if El’s words were going to put them both in danger.

“Believe me if you had worked with her longer, you would know that Rasler won’t stand up for her.”

She sent them a sorry look. Despite the ties around her wrists and ankles, she couldn’t help the guilt that rose in her. She vaguely recalled the case El mentioned but not enough for her sympathy to sound genuine.

“It’s not too late. I can put in a good word for you with Kipps, you can join his team!”

“None of it matters now. All I want is to make sure you won’t cause any more trouble.”

They turned their back to her and nodded to Rasler. The man loomed over her with a menacing stare, taking out a knife to execute orders.

“El please! I swear I can make it up to you!”

They ignored her, only turning around to enjoy the view with a sly smirk.

“Please!” She begged, tears filling her eyes.

Rasler was upon her, the blade resting against the crook of her neck, the cool of the metal sending shivers down her spine. She shut her eyes, waiting for the fatal moment. Before her executioner could finish what he had started, the sound of a window breaking resonated in her ears. She didn’t know if she was hallucinating again or not, but one moment the knife was pressing down her neck and the next it was gone. She tentatively opened an eye to see if she was dreaming. Lucy was holding the man down, disarming him of his weapon. Behind him, Norrie and George were keeping El from escaping.

They tripped Norrie who cried out in pain and used the distraction to slip out. George ran after them. In the commotion, Lucy lost focus long enough to give her adversary the advantage back. He reached for the knife he had dropped. Lucy lunged to reach it before him, tackling him in the process. y/n couldn’t do anything but watch the scene unfold as she pulled on her ties to try to help her friend. She should have known that her previous hallucination meant Lucy was coming to her rescue. It had been right before. The least she could do was return the favor, but her ties wouldn’t let go. She yelled at Lucy to watch out when Rasler caught the knife that was inches away from his fingers. He swung the blade at her face making y/n flinch. When she looked back up, Lucy had gotten away. She grabbed the first thing she could find, in this case a steel chair lying around, and hit the relic-man with all her strength. The man went down instantly. She grabbed his knife and cut y/n loose. Her wrists were burning from the tight rope that had almost cut all circulation in her hands. She thanked Lucy, tears filling her eyes again, but before she could hug the girl, she shouted

“Come on! We have to catch the other one!” and left the room in a hurry. y/n followed closely to find El stuck, their back under George’s knee. He had a tight grip on their arms and was holding them down on the ground. The look they sent her way made her blood run cold. Norrie came rushing back, saying how she had lost track of Dufour. Her friends were already planning their next move, but she still hadn’t registered the fact that they were here. They were all here to save her even though she had walked into a death trap of her own volition. She was still dizzy from the blow she must have received on the head and the adrenaline wasn’t mixing well.

“Are you okay?” Lucy placed a hand on her shoulder, stabilizing her spinning head. y/n wrapped her arms around her shoulders, hugging the girl close and taking her first deep breath in almost an hour.

“Thank you for coming.” She said between tears.

Caught up in the moment, she didn’t realize the commotion and the noises getting closer to them. The doors flew open and five or six DEPRAC agents stormed in, relieving George and handcuffing El. As soon as he stood up, she hugged him tightly too without letting go, even when she spotted Dufour in DEPRAC’s custody in one of their vans. George had never been one for physical affection, but he didn’t let her go either.

“How did you find me?” She mumbled, her mouth half smashed against his shoulder.

“Don’t ask me it was all Lucy. She led us to you in record breaking time.”

“Really?” She parted from him and looked at the girl with a questioning stare.

“I don’t really know I just… had a hunch.” Lucy replied. They exchanged a complicit glance.

“You know,” George added in a lower voice, “I think she could be a great addition to the team. You two seem to complement each other quite well.”

“I agree.” y/n smiled.

“I’ll talk to Lockwood once this is all over.”

“Wait, speaking of, where is he?”

George didn’t have to answer. She spotted him outside the warehouse, right at the entrance, talking with inspector Barnes. The discussion seemed to be heated. She threw another glance towards her friends, thanking them again for saving her from her idiotic mistake.

“Don’t worry about it.” Norrie said. “We all make mistakes.” She paused, noticing y/n’s insistent stare somewhere above her shoulder. She looked back and smiled.

“You should go see him, he’s been really worried.”

y/n smiled back at her before heading towards him.

“This is not what we agreed upon!” Lockwood retorted, losing his usually impenetrable composure.

“Keep complaining and I make it three.”

Lockwood sighed, looking away in anger. Whatever they were discussing, he did not seem pleased. He crossed his arms, his jaw clenched. Suddenly he froze, noticing her approaching. He did not hesitate and walked over to her in two short strides, holding her close before she could say anything. She hugged him back, his familiar scent enveloping her in a comforting embrace. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, but she could feel his was too.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Lockwood.”

He held her closer at those words, leaving a kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. One kiss turned into a second, then a third at the corner of her eye, on her cheek, her jaw. His nose was practically touching hers. She thought she might start to levitate further and further away from the ground. He stared into her eyes, determination highlighting his sharp features. Her heart sank to her stomach and took flight at the same time. The sudden feeling surprised her yet made her feel light as a feather. She smiled so much her cheeks hurt, and she couldn’t help her eyes dropping to his lips with anticipation.

“I can’t blame you for being a little reckless now, can I?” He smiled and everything was right again, nothing else mattered now.

“Lockwood!” Barnes shouted after shutting the door to the van taking El to Scotland Yard’s headquarters. He straightened up and took a step back, startled by the inspector calling his name. “I’ll see you three on Monday. Don’t be late.”

He looked down and frowned, frustration slowly turning to resolution.

“What is that about?”

“Let’s get you home now.” He defiantly ignored her, his usual wolfish grin proudly trying to win her over.

“Lockwood…”

“I’ll make you tea!” He added to convince her.

She would let it go… for now. The only thing she wanted more than honesty was going back to Portland Row, back home, back to safety.

The five of them went home and settled around the Thinking Cloth to finally enjoy the treats the girls had brought earlier that day. The tea tasted particularly sweet now that this whole case was finally put to rest, relieving everyone’s mind. The group was cheerful, happy to share a moment of peace. After the first round of doughnuts, a comfortable silent fell over the kitchen, the only noises coming from the clinking of mugs.

“I need to thank you all again.” y/n said.

They all smiled warmly at her.

“I wouldn’t be here without you, you saved my life. Lucy you came in just at the right time.”

“And I’d do it again.” The girl answered without a trace of doubt.

“I thought you wanted to stay as far from the field as possible?” Norrie asked, surprised.

“Well, that wasn’t really a case…”

y/n sent a look to George who was already staring at her, the same thought probably crossing his mind.

“George, thank you for giving me a home.”

“I’m the one who got you in this mess… I’m the reason you got fired in the first place.”

“El would have found a way to get me fired no matter what you did. None of it is your fault.” She reached out and squeezed his hand.

“And Lockwood, thank you for letting me stay.” She concluded. She looked back at him. He simply smiled. The intimacy of the moment they had shared a few hours prior brought heat to her cheeks.

When the box of treats was finished, the girls got up and y/n hugged them again, still overwhelmed and grateful. The five of them walked back into the hall, agreeing to spend a day together soon to get their minds off work, whatever it may be. When y/n opened the front door to usher the girls out she found herself face to face with Quill Kipps.

“I just heard about Mrs. Dufour!” He said, panting. “I’m glad you’re okay! This is all behind you now.”

“Yes, it is. Thank you for checking up on me, it’s very sweet.”

“Well, actually I come with news. Dufour’s arrest means that Fittes is considering offering you your job back. As your team leader the final decision is mine to make, and I think you know what I’ve decided. The question is, would you like to?”

“Come back? To work at Fittes? With you?”

She couldn’t help but look back into the hall, where George and Lockwood stared at her expectantly, waiting for her answer. She looked back at Kipps who waited with the same anticipation.

“Um I-I…”

“I’ll give you time to think about it. We can always discuss it over coffee, you still owe me one.” He winked. “I’d love to work with you again.” He climbed down the few steps in front of the door before turning back into the street.

This offer was the last thing she had expected that day. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of Fittes wanting her back if she managed to prove the truth about Dufour. But now the dream she had pursued most of her life was rising up from its ashes and Kipps had dropped this on her like it was a regular everyday decision. Norrie and Lucy smiled as they walked passed her, patting her on the back before leaving her to it, not uttering a word as to not disturb the tumultuous contradicting thoughts flooding her mind. She shut the door and turned around to see George still staring at her. Lockwood was gone.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t… know. I mean… It was my dream until a few months ago. But I’ve moved on. I’m happy here with you guys. But if I don’t take it am I missing out? What should I do?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, but I’ll support you no matter what you decide.” He looked up towards the landing. “I’m sure Lockwood will too.”

She looked in the same direction he did with a sad smile and slowly went up the stairs. On the first floor, she heard shuffling coming from Lockwood’s room. She got closer and saw him pacing around his bedroom. He stopped when he caught her eyes looking through the half-open door. He tried to smile at her, but Kipps’ offer definitely had an effect on him.

“I don’t know what I’ll do yet.” She tried to reassure him.

“You should take it.” He said, his tone definitive, like he had made the decision for her.

“I’m not sure.”

“Yes, you are. It’s what’s best for you. I can’t offer you what he can. Not the same wage, not the same reputation, not the same freedom…”

The last criteria made her chuckle slightly.

“I’m pretty sure I’m still more free here than at Fittes.”

“Not anymore…”

“What do you mean?”

He stayed silent.

“That conversation with Barnes…” She understood. “What did he say.”

“Lockwood & Co. is under a tutelage of sorts. We can’t work on any case that Barnes didn’t assign and without his supervision…”

The terms seemed extreme. She couldn’t understand why all of a sudden the inspector would apply such restrictive conditions to the small agency.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because otherwise he refused to help me.”

“Help you?” It took her a moment to register. “Oh… Oh! I am responsible for this?”

“No! This isn’t your fault.”

“But if I hadn’t gone through with my mediocre plan and gotten into that much trouble then none of this would have happened!”

He took a step closer and looked down at her with a stern look.

“This is not your fault. His terms could have been twice as bad and I still would have agreed to them.”

She looked at him with a matching intensity, unable to argue. No matter how much she wanted to apologize again, promise she could make it right, she couldn’t find the words.

“The next two months will be hard, but it’s worth it.”

The sentiment was sweet and the intention behind his words was enough to make her heart leap but laughter was all that managed to escape her mouth.

“Two months? You’re being that dramatic for two months of supervision?” She laughed harder, holding on to his arm. “I’m sure you’ll be alright.” She smiled at him, softened by how ridiculously attractive he looked when he took offence.

“I still think you’d be better off with Kipps.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

With a confidence she had never expressed before she closed the gap between them. Her hand was still on his arm, her grip tighter to bring him close. His lips were soft against hers but she could feel how he froze at the unexpected contact. She didn’t insist and drew back, apologizing for her sudden inappropriate behaviour. He caught her hand before she could take a step back, his intense stare still set on her with a determination she had only seen him exude in the field. It was his turn to close his hand firmly around her arm to bring her back to him. His other hand found the back of her head. The awkwardness of her apologies was quickly forgotten when he brought his lips down to hers, the need to be closer to him overpowering everything else. She brought her hands up behind his head, fingers buried in his hair while he wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. She forgot where she was, barely noticing the wall he was pressing her up against. Nothing in the world mattered anymore. The lack of sleep, the hostage situation, Kipps’ offer, everything seemed a mile away. All she wanted was to feel his breath and his lips against hers as long as possible. They didn’t want to let each other go. When he pulled away for air, she barely gave him time before kissing him again and when she pulled away, he chased her lips like it was his reason to live. Each kiss grew hungrier and more passionate than the last. She bit his bottom lip on a dare and the response she got made her want to do more. The noise that escaped his throat as he breathed into her made her knees buckle and she sighed with desire. He slid his tongue against hers, his hand holding on to her neck tighter, his strong fingers making a mess of her hair. Just like he had done earlier that day, he drifted from her lips to her jaw before kissing down her neck, leaving marks here and there.

“Please stay.” He begged. She had rarely heard him so vulnerable.

“Of course I’ll stay.” She said. “I could never leave you.” She wanted to add, but he was already kissing her again, thankfulness mixed with something more.

“Lockwood-”

He looked up into her eyes, leaving her neck for a moment.

“Please, call me Anthony.”

She was caught off guard by the request. She had never used his first name, not even once. It felt strangely intimate using it. She kissed him softly, touched by his trust.

“We should probably discuss how we’re gonna work together if we’re a thing…”

“Yes definitely.”

There was a silence, neither of them knowing where to start. He was still holding her close and her arms were still around his neck, the proximity filled with unresolved tension.

“Maybe we could… take it slow? Sleep on it and see how it goes tomorrow?” She offered hesitantly.

“Yes that’s… that’s a good idea.”

They remained a while longer, gazing into each other’s eyes. Reluctantly, she slid her hands down, stroking his shoulders and chest before letting go. He unwrapped his hand from her waist and she instantly missed his touch.

They didn’t look away from each other as they walked out towards the door to his room. They must have looked ridiculous but she didn’t care.

“George will probably call us down for dinner any time now.”

“I’ll see you then.” She said with a small smile before heading towards the attic.

None of it felt real. Once in her room she realized that she didn’t even know why she went there. Mechanically, she picked up her hairbrush to untangle the mess done by Lockwood’s hands. Anthony’s. She corrected herself. Her lips were still tingly and soft purple marks started to show on her neck. George would have a lot to say about that. George who was probably preparing something delicious downstairs and who would call her any minute now. She wasn’t hungry though and didn’t know if she could eat anything after a day like that. Guilt crept up on her when she realized she would probably skip dinner, but it was quickly replaced by an overpowering feeling from deep inside her. A different kind of hunger.

She climbed down the stairs leading to her room and opened the door to find Lockwood already standing there.

“I don’t want to take it slow.” She said and he smiled instantly. He obviously had similar ideas.

She led him up the stairs in a hurry. The few minutes they had spent apart felt like she had been stuck underwater and she was finally coming up for air now that his lips were against hers again. From the moment they first met she had loathed his confidence and how pretentious it made him. But now that he slid his hands under her shirt, their warmth spreading across the skin of her back, she had to admit that she was rather fond of it. She traced his jaw with her fingers and lowered them down his neck until she reached the collar of his shirt that was getting in the way. Slowly, she untied the knot of his tie, and she could have fainted from the noise he made. His tie hit the floor and was quickly joined by her shirt, the two of them collapsing on her bed blissfully unaware of the warm plates waiting for them three floors below.

---

She poured George his tea and prepared it the way she knew he liked it, trying desperately to make up for the night before. She was sorry they had left him eat by himself, but she wasn’t that sorry if she was honest with herself. She had not stopped smiling since she had woken up next to Lockwood and she couldn’t help it, not even with George insistently staring at her.

“So… I guess you’re staying with us then?” He tried to ask innocently but his smile betrayed him. “Where’s Lockwood?”

“He’s taking a shower.” She answered a little too fast.

“He probably needs it.” George mumbled to himself.

She threw the dish towel at him, making him laugh. She was not going to hear the end of it. But her smile hadn’t left her lips. When they sat down in their usual seats, they heard Lockwood in the hallway speaking on the phone. A few moments later he joined them, his smile matching hers. He kissed the top of her head before sitting next to her.

“So, what do we do now?” George asked.

“Well, inspector Barnes just called to assign us our first supervised case.”

“You seem oddly happy about that.”

Before he could make any other comment, he understood his friend’s good mood was not coming from work but from the girl he was gazing at.

“Is this going to be a problem? We have work to do!”

“No, you’re right.” y/n said, putting distance between her and her now boyfriend. “Please continue.”

With his usual grin, Lockwood settled back into his role as agency leader.

“George, do you know anything about Kensal Green cemetery?”