#EDIT: HOW DID I NOT THINK ABOUT THE MAN MARKED BY THE FLAMES | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dionyseung-s · 2 years

Text

moth to a flame — k.sm

• pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x hwang hyunjin

• genre: infidelity (adultery), smut and fluff — MDNI!

• summary: maybe being caught up in a relationship for four years with the man you aren't in love with isn't that hard when you're two-timing him with the man that you actually love this whole time but what really happens after dark? — once your boyfriend is away for his business trip?

• rating: 18+

• warnings: smut, fem!reader, infidelity, foreplay (m.receiving), handjob, cumshot, begging, edging, overstimulation, switch!seungmin, unprotected sex, explicit language, biting (mentions of blood), creampie, teasing, choking, spanking, mirror sex, penetrative sex, cockwarming (if you squint), name calling, finger sucking, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, marking. Let me know if i missed something.

a/n: english is not my 1st language so yea.. i was inspired by those tiktok edit, the one with moth to a flame as the audio but idk man... should i make a part 2? it's going to be about hyunjin's back story with seungmin

- some lowercase are intended.

• smut below the cut.

You picked up your phone that violently vibrates on your nightstand, waking you up from your sleep. You crawled out from your shared bed with your boyfriend slowly not wanting to wake him up as you made your way to the living room "I just want to say that I miss you" a disembodied voice from the other line freshen you up. It's the voice that you've been longing to hear for the past week.

"I missed you too. Did you drink?" you asked him worriedly, never in your life he had called you around this hour, at 5 am - sure it's weird for you to have him like this. Being a bit sappy; after dark.

"A little" he answered with honesty while swirling a glass of an old whiskey that he poured for himself earlier. You can hear the sound of an ice cube clinking against the glass; it's an old whiskey that his father gave him, a long time ago.

"....we'll meet again soon" you reminded him, again; for the second time this week. Missing every inch of him tremendously with your whole being, with every inch of your skin.

"I know baby, I just wanted to let you know that I miss you. You can go back to sleep again. Good night, sweetheart. I love you" he mumbled as a warm smile crept up upon his face that you cannot see.

"I love you too", replying to him before you end the call. Walking back to your shared room with your boyfriend, tucking yourself in, beside him. Who has no clue on what is going on behind his back or - does he?

It's toxic. You know it's wrong to deceive your lover, your boyfriend but having Hyunjin by your side is a fever dream. He's such a gentle lover, a romantic guy, he's a man that every woman wishes to spend their time with forever, he's all man that every woman ever needed and you know that you're lucky to be with him. It's hard for you to let him slip through your fingers easily but the truth is,

he was never yours to begin with, no.

"Y/n, there will be a new art installation tomorrow at the exhibition, do you think you can go with me?" Hyunjin asked you out of the blue. It's usual for him to ask you out to random museum dates with him and you're not complaining, in fact, you enjoyed it, a lot.

"Sure, when do you wanna go Hyune?" you replied, as you shifted your gaze from your pancake to him, who is sitting down across from you with a new haircut and a new hair color - platinum blue. Making him look prettier than he already is.

"Next week, maybe? Once I'm done with my business trip, we'll see" Hyunjin tattered as he makes his way towards you, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head before making his way to the dishwasher to wash his dirty plate.

"When will you be back?" you asked in a convincing calm manner, as if you're going to miss him when he's gone for the week or so. Leaving you alone with your little secret that you've been keeping for god knows how long, behind his back.

"Hmmm, honestly. I don't really know because my schedule is packed for this week and I still have a photoshoot to do with felix for cosmopolitan as well as attending Tod's event with Felix, too" he said with uncertainty clouding his voice. Exhaustion is well written all over his face, if only you could help him by sucking his exhaustion off of him, you'd be more than happy to help him.

"It will be boring without you here with me, Jinnie. I'll be all alone" you sighed, hiding the excitement behind your voice. Knowing that you'll be alone and free to do whatever you want with the other man. You walk towards his back as you hug his bigger figure, putting your hands around his waist, inhaling his scent while he's washing his plate and finishing it peacefully.

"Awh, is my princess lonely hmn?" he replied back, teasing you as he shifted his body to face you. He caresses your face carefully while studying your features, trying to examine the meaning behind your gaze as he gently plays with your hair, twirling and tucking it behind your ear.

"Of course I am, Jinnie. That's why I have you" it came out naturally, it tasted bittersweet on your tongue; you lied to him as you put your head to his chest, hearing the way his heart is beating only for you. Acknowledging the fact that the way his heart is beating is still the same for you as it used to be back during the college days. You like how he's devoted to you - too devoted just like a mutt.

"Do you want to pick some flowers with me before I go? Or tell me what to do to make it up to you, to make you feel less lonely when I'm gone, princess" Hyunjin always liked flowers, that's one of the many things that you like about him. He loves paying attention to you, even to the utmost details that are unnecessary. He's a romantic guy, sure you felt loved by him but - he can never replace the man that is carved into your heart.

"No, it's okay. I'll be okay, you should get ready for your flight today. I'll drop you off at the airport, I'll be with you" you stated, hugging him tightly as if he would disappear if you'd let him go from your embrace, this is how you make it up to him.

"Are you sure?" he asked back while pulling your body away from his body gently, tilting up your chin to face him as your eyes met his glistening eyes. The same eyes that used to make every woman's heart flutter when they see it, his hands wrapping your waist, pulling your body closer to him again as he connected his lips to yours. Placing a gentle bite on your bottom lips, you kissed him back. You know how to play this game, your own game. Deep inside you feel guilty but you can't just let him slip through your fingers, not now.

"Hyunjin," you whispered in between your kisses. "You should get ready for your flight," you reminded him as you pulled yourself away from his presence slowly. Ghosting your lips on his, he hummed in silence as a response to you.

"Wait for me while i'm gone" Hyunjin said while bidding a goodbye kiss to you before departing to his flight.

"I will, Hyune. Be careful. Text me once you landed" you said, hugging him not wanting to let him go, just yet.

You deserve an oscar for putting an act that you did in front of him. You're happy that he's gone for a week or so, in fact you wished that he'd be gone for a month, to let you spend some more time with your secret lover.

The truth is, Hyunjin was never yours to begin with, no. You were just his rebound at first until he fell madly in love with you and sadly your heart belongs to someone else, but he had to let you go — for the sake of Hyunjin.

The other man thought that someone like you can't be with someone who is like him. it's as if an asteroid hitting the earth if he's with you and it's unfair for you, too.

When it comes to the other man, he just couldn't stop comparing himself to Hyunjin; who had everything, who aced every major during his college days. He looked like a broken pot next to a vase, he can't be with someone who is as smart as you, as pretty as you and you didn't care. You love him so much that you'd do anything just to be with him — and it includes deceiving your lover, along with the four years old relationship. you are willing to go this far just for him, for the man that you love.

You pick your phone, dialing his number hoping that he would pick up your call, you miss him, you miss being by his side, you miss his presence.

"Minnie, don't forget about our date that we arranged for today" - you said through your teeth, softly smiling

"Yes, of course baby" he swiftly say on the other line as he begins to get himself ready

"I'll be at your place in around 15 minutes" you tattered while walking back to your car, revving the engine.

"Hurry then, because I miss you so much sweetheart" Seungmin gently said. Hoping to see you soon, couldn't wait to embrace you in his arms as he couldn't be with you due to your relationship with the other man.

Here you are, entering Seungmin's penthouse as if it's your own, pressing each number on the smart lock passcode that he gave you, years ago. "Minnie?" you called out to him, making your presence known to him

"Yes, sweetheart I'm here" he answered you, from his room, still getting ready for the date that you've set up.

You approached him in his room, your gaze fixated on how pretty he looked right now, standing in front of his body mirror while fixing his bleached bangs. He sees you and he couldn't contain his own puppy-like smile, smiling widely just like a Cheshire cat, braces out. - "Minnie, my minnie" you voiced, hugging him from the back, trapping him in your presence

"How's my love doing?" he asked, still fixing his hair while staring at his and your reflection

"I'm doing great. What about you baby? i miss you so much, it hurts" you answered, resting your head on his back, as it muffled your voice

"Awh, I missed you too baby" he answered, shifting his body to face you, as he cup your face, kissing your lips gently, sharing his warmth to the same lips that Hyunjin kissed this morning, erasing the trace of Hyunjin's lips on you.

You have to admit that Hyunjin might be a great kisser who has a plump and soft lips and you do like Hyunjin's kiss but with Seungmin's kiss, it's different, it's passionate, slow, it's sweet — never boring, especially when you can feel his braces against your lips and against your tongue

"Minnie.." you whimper, still maintaining the kiss. You missed him, you miss this, this moment, his touch, everything about him.

He broke the kiss while pulling your body closer, not letting any space get in between the two of you after he heard you calling his name "what's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked with concern.

"I miss you so much. Can't you just let me be with you?" you asked

"Baby, we talked about this back then, didn't we? we can't" he answered while planting a kiss on the top of your head.

"You do know it damn well, Seungmin. We can do it, I'm willing to risk it. My heart is yours to begin with and you know that really well" you exclaimed, feeling unfair and frustrated because Seungmin is just being too stubborn

"I know, I know darling. You always say you'd give him away for me, but you can't do that to him. He's good for you" he uttered, gently patting your hair

"No, Seungmin. I was just his rebound, I never loved him. I've loved you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you. It's you, it's always been you" you spoke softly feeling defeated, all these years of loving him in secrecy and silence, he still didn't get how you're willing to do anything for him, how much you love him.

"Yes and I do love you too, you know that really well baby" he coos, still hugging you tightly as he pats your back lightly, reassuring you "maybe when the time is right we can be together but for now, let's have our date yeah?" he added, redirecting the conversation, not wanting to talk about it any longer.

"Yeah, let's just go" you replied weakly, feeling a little upset while pulling yourself away from him as he place his arms around your waist "we can talk about it later, baby" seungmin voiced, placing a kiss on your forehead

"My Seungmin look so pretty today" you praises, staring at his eyes, making him blush

"You just can't say that easily" he said shyly as both of you were making your way to his door, getting out of his penthouse.

"I can and there isn't anything that I wouldn't do for you" you said blatantly without thinking twice. You meant every word that rolls off of your tongue.

"You can't say that baby, you have Hyunjin," Seungmin replied, testing the water.

"And you can't say that too, it's about us right now, not me and Hyunjin" you stated curtly as you roll your eyes, you don't like it when he brings up Hyunjin whenever you're with him —it's a killjoy.

"I wanna make you mine, love" Seungmin blurted, filled with guilt that's clouding him, blaming himself. If only he could turn back time, he wouldn't have told you to be with hyunjin. He would've chosen to be selfish.

"Then do it, you coward. I'd risk anything for you and I'm hoping that you'll do the same, pretty boy" you jokes as you make your way to his newest black Mercedes .

"I will, one day - let me drive, pretty" he said, as he opened up the side of your door. You've fallen hard for him ever since the first time you saw him, everything about him makes you wanna own him in a way that words can't describe.

The date was fun. every minute you've spent with Seungmin, reminds you why you fell for Seungmin in the first place. You got 3 missed calls from Hyunjin, resulting in him bombarding your text, saying that he has arrived and his schedule is already packed, telling you that he won't be able to contact you as his manager won't allow him to have his phone.

"Is that Hyunjin?" Seungmin asked you from behind as he creeped to engulf your body, pulling you into his embrace. You're back at his place to spend the entire week and time with him, while your lover is away—far from you.

"Yeah, he said he won't be able to text or call me. I'm going to miss him." You uttered purposely, just to make Seungmin jealous. It's fun to see Seungmin getting all jealous when it comes to hearing about Hyunjin.

"Then be with him, be with that mutt of yours, baby" he said while tackling you down onto his bed, laying on top of you, planting a lot of kisses all over your face

"Mhm, sure" you teased

"But does he know where your heart truly lies?, hmm?" he asked back, burying his head on your neck as you tilt your neck a little to make some space for him "it's right here with me y/n, remember that" he reminded you while biting and sucking your neck, leaving marks.

"Seung," you called him as the way he sucks on your skin is getting harsher, you can feel his teeth biting your skin as his braces also make contact with your skin. You grab a fistful of his hair while tilting your head a little bit more to the side, allowing him to suck on you better, marking you.

"Hmn? has Hyunjin ever done this to you? does he know your favorite place to be touched? does he know the reasons that you cry? or does he ever make you feel good?" he asked you, as he began to pull away from you to face you, admiring the marks that he left on your neck as you stay silent

"You're mine to begin with, sweetheart. remember that" he stated, making you feel helpless.

"I know I'm yours, minnie. yours" you whispered, this is it. This is the poison that you've created and you'll swallow. Knowing that you're going to leave Hyunjin, sooner or later.

"You know that you can't keep doing this right, sweetheart?, sooner or later we're gonna get caught" he said, warning you

"I know it really well, Seung. why would you even tell me to be with him in the first place?" you asked him genuinely, it's not fair for you. you've never loved Hyunjin in the first place, it's Seungmin, it has always been seungmin.

"it's just-

"You know minnie, it's fine. I'll do anything for you as long as you're happy" you cut him off curtly, sick of hearing how he didn't deserve to be with you because he's nothing compared to Hyunjin when he is the man that you need in your life - he's your twin flame.

"baby..." he called you as he lay down next to your body, facing you as your eyes were staring at his bedroom ceiling, his mirror ceiling to be exact, looking at yours and his reflection "it's my fault. I'm the one who told you to be with Hyunjin back then, I should've never done that." he said with regrets echoing through his voice. he felt a weight weighing down his chest, making him hard to breath whenever he thinks about it

"yes, and I have to admit that's stupid" you teased him

"hey", he replied half yelled, jokingly while hugging you from your side. You heard your phone ring and as soon as you saw the caller id you wasted no time picking it up, letting yourself go from his presence as you sat down on his bed, earning a whine from Seungmin as he also sat himself down.

"Hey Hyune '' you greeted, putting on a show but maybe this time you can make it a little bit more fun now that you have Seungmin here with you.

"How's my princess doing?" Hyunjin asked you with his mellow voice that is filling your audio senses.

"I'm doing fine, i miss you Jinnie" you whine, starting to play your own little game, hoping that Seungmin would notice it

"I miss you too, do you want anything princess?" Hyunjin said as he asked you a question on the other line. You can only imagine him saying it with his plump pouty lips which makes you miss him more.

"Yes, I want you here with me," you joked lamely, just for the sake of making Seungmin jealous.

Seungmin is sitting down right behind you, listening to your little conversation with your lover, you turn your back to face him as you maintain your conversation with Hyunjin. Your other hand made its way to play with Seungmin's hair, tracing your hands around his face, ending it with squishing his face softly, making his lips turn into a pouty one, you let out a soft chuckle, leaving a peck on Seungmin's pouty lips.

"How's France Hyune?" you asked him sincerely, being curious about it

You let your hand go from Seungmin's face as you made your way towards his balcony. Walking away from Seungmin just to feel the cold night wind breeze on your skin, you leaned forward to his railing, still on the phone with Hyunjin, staring down at the big city from Seungmin's balcony.

"France is great. I want to take you here with me, someday, you've been wanting to visit France, right? I'll take you here, one day princess" he confesses genuinely, you can feel his sincerity through his voice, another thing that you like about Hyunjin.

"Sure Hyune, I'll be waiting for that day to come. We can visit many museums and art exhibitions as much as you want, we should do it together" you said as your voice softened, imagining how exciting that would be as you felt a pair of hand hugging your waist from behind and a chin landed on your right shoulder, the one where your phone is on your ear. Seungmin is embracing you while eavesdropping on your conversation with Hyunjin. He is jealous, jealous that he can't do what Hyunjin does.

He tilted his head closer towards your phone, to eavesdrop as you could feel his hair on the back of your hand while holding your phone close to your ear. "Felix is here with me princess, he said hi to you" he said, letting you know "tell him that I say hi too" you said.

You can no longer feel seungmin's chin resting on your shoulder but instead you feel him sucking on your nape like a vampire, he knew that it's one of your most sensitive spot - fuck, you thought. "Sure princess, we're about to go now. I'll talk to you later" Hyunjin said, it's as if he knew what's going on, "I love you, princess" Hyunjin stated, making you freeze, "say it, princess, say it back" Seungmin mocked a whisper.

One of his hands slithered under your shirt to your breast, squeezing it harshly — shocking you, you slap his other hand that's on your waist lightly "I love you too, Hyune'' you stated back as you can feel your throat becomes dry after saying those meaningless words to him. You hung up your phone, ending Hyunjin's call.

"Fuck you, what was that for" you lashed out to him, he throws a chuckles at you as he back hugs you, again "then fuck me, baby, I miss you" he speaks nonchalantly "no thanks sir" you joked.

"Did you mean that?" Seungmin suddenly asked you with a small voice as you put your hand on his hands, caressing it, you leaned back on him a little, to feel his comfort.

"Which one? i don't know, tell me minnie" you teased him, you love pressing his buttons, making him mad, you like seeing his face when he's angry. It makes him hotter.

"Don't do that, don't say that when I asked you a question" he warned and that's when you knew that Seungmin took the bait, you spin around to face him, still being hugged by him

"I don't know, min. Tell me" , still teasing him, as you cupped his face with your hands, bringing yourself closer to kiss him. Your lips collided with Seungmin's lips, kissing him gently to reassure him that he's the only one you love, he is where your heart lies.

Seungmin knew damn well that you love him but the thought of you leaving him is eating him alive even though he knew that you won't leave him, he knew how to pull you in closer. You're loyal to him and he wanted to hear it from you, from your mouth, that you didn't love Hyunjin. He wanted to hear that those words were meaningless when it's for Hyunjin.

You break the kiss after a while. The moon is bright and the night is getting colder as time passes. You are under the moon with Seungmin basking in the light, you stare at him just to make sure that you will remember this moment for the rest of your life.

How pretty his face looks under the moonlight, how his eyes are so clear that it almost looks like you can see your reflection in them, those whiskey eyes that makes him look more adorable, his nose, his lips, everything about him is perfect and you know that can't let him go, you're trapped in a spider's web.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, breaking the silence, caressing your cheek

"What else, it's you." you answered him while slowly pulling yourself away from his body. Walking back into his room to lay yourself on his bed, you love the scent of his bed, it's comforting.

"You still haven't answered my question, sweetheart" he said, following you from behind as he joined you on his bed, cuddling you.

"Of course I didn't, minnie" you stated while your eyes are glued to your phone, playing with your phone, not paying any attention to him.

"That's great then" he spoke, snuggling himself into you

"I know"

"I love you," Seungmin blurted out of the blue, it is rare for him to say those three words, while being in this secret relationship with him, you can almost count it with your fingers by how many times has he ever said those words to you because he mainly show it through his actions.

"Mhm" you mumbled, still not paying any attention to him as you're still busy answering Hyunjin's messages

"Did you hear what I was saying?" he asked you flatly, a little annoyed

"I did, I heard it loud and clear Seungmin"

"Then say it back like how you say it back to Hyunjin" he convinced you, he whined

You turn off your phone while getting up from your position while Seungmin does the same, you sit down closely in front of Seungmin who is now leaning his back to his headboard, in between his legs, facing him—hell, his bed is big. you bring your hand to the side of his face, your thumb is caressing his cheek, noticing that it's not as chubby as it used to be

"Say it back, baby" he pleaded to you as he held onto your hand on his face as he became desperate "please…" he added before he moved your hand from his cheek, bringing it closer to his lips, sucking two of your fingers. You stay quiet, watching the way he is sucking your fingers, saliva coating your finger as you can feel the warmth of his mouth and his tongue moving around your fingers.

You pushed your fingers further to the back of his mouth, pressing it against his warm tongue "suck it" you whispered as he's maintaining a direct eye contact with you, obeying you while looking at you with his prettiest doe eyes.

You pulled your fingers away from his mouth after a while, Seungmin whined, feeling empty and desperate "do you want me to make you feel good, pretty boy?" you asked him. Your other hand rest on his thigh, caressing it gently, sending a shiver to Seungmin's skin

"Yes please, it's been so long since you've touched me. I need you" he answered back desperately.

He brings his face closer to you, ghosting his lips on your lips "please" he breathed out before his lips clashed against your own, moving it slowly while your fingers tangled his hair, tugging at his scalp, earning the prettiest moans from him.

"Take off your pants" you pulled away from the kiss as he took his pants off hastily. Throwing it somewhere across his room before he sits back on his bed, spreading his legs wider for you to sit in between. No longer leaning on his headboard but rather leaning back on his arms to support his entire body weight.

His hard cock is now fully on display in front of you. You moved forward closer to him as your hands begin to stroke his big cock slowly, playing with his tip - his most sensitive part, lightly rubbing it as your other hand play with his shaft, Seungmin let out a quiet moan, head thrown back, eyes staring at his own reflection on his mirror ceiling with you in between his legs helping him to get off, brows furrowed, his mouth slightly open - this is his bliss

You pumped his cock painfully slowly, you don't want this to end quickly, teasing him, you love teasing this man to an extent where he will just cry and beg for more, "faster, please" Seungmin whined as he held your hand out of desperation. Getting frustrated by your pace, "no touching, pretty boy. Keep your hands off of me, we're just getting started" you said softly, letting go of your grip from his cock for a moment as he let go of your hands, fingers gripping his own sheets for dear life before you stroke down his cock, again. your pace is getting a little faster, stroking down his cock as he lets out a whinny brittle moan that turns you on, before you slow down your pace again. Making him grow more frustrated with your slow pace, he is on the verge of crying from pleasure

Seungmin begins to feel like there's wave thrashing around inside of him after you stroke his cock in a faster pace, his thighs begins to shake "more, more, mo..r plea..se, i can...t yo..u can't do th..at" his words fumbles, minds were too clouded with piled up pleasure to chase his high that it makes him hard to construct a simple sentence "say it clearly, minnie. use your words, tell me what you want" you were having fun teasing him as you go faster and faster.

"cum, I want to cum" Seungmin's cock began to twitch on your hands as his tips begins to reddened, you knew he's about to cum, so, you let go of his cock from your grip, edging him. Not letting him get what he wants, you didn't want this to end too early.

"p-please, i need to c-cum.." he begged you, as he's tightening the grip of his fingers on his sheets. If only he could see his face and his flushed cheek right now; it makes him look prettier. "cumming already? not until I let you, pretty boy. you should see how pretty you look right now, look up, look at yourself" you praise, while he sighed quietly, left with no choice but to obey you. He shifted his gaze from you to his mirror ceiling as he stared at himself, he looked helpless, he looked like a mess, he looked pathetic with his position like this. legs wide open, hair tousled, hands gripping his bed sheets tightly, thighs shaking, cheek slightly tinted pink, as pink as a tulip petal.

His cock is still throbbing as you put your thumb on the tip of his cock, rubbing it against your thumb softly, your other hand went under his shaft, grabbing the base of his cock making him jolt as he stares at you with his glossy eyes, you want to look at him, his face .

you start to stroke his shaft slowly as your other hands begin to play with his reddened top, not breaking the eye contact with him, you paced faster, making Seungmin threw his head back in pleasure "look at me minnie, let me see those eyes", he tried to bring his head back to look at you but it's fruitless, you stop your pace. squeezing the head of his cock in between your fingers to gain his attention

"I'm sorry, baby, I-" you squeeze his tip harder, making seungmin let out a loud moan "stop doing that - I can't take it" he whispered, breath hitched

"No, Seungmin, you can take it" you voiced back as you pressed on his tip more harder this time, making him squirm "no, please, let me cum baby" he pleaded, on the verge of crying, his eyes becomes glossier because of the unbearable amount of unreleased orgasm piling up inside him.

You edged him a few more times, you love hearing his pitiful whines as he mewl out loud, letting out lewd sounds as it fills his room, blabbering some irrelevant words, tears staining his face, hands still gripping his sheets, his hair is a mess, drenched by his own sweat. You love this sight, the sight of him like this is turning you on more as it makes you throb down there while you hear him moan "please, please I can't hold it anymore, it hurts" he held your hands, trying to stop your movement but you went faster instead "I'm gonna cum, fuckkk" he cried out. his heart began to beat faster, he breathed irregularly, chest going up and down faster than normally as he felt another shockwave of pleasure washing over him, running down his spine.

"You wanna cum minnie?"

"Mhm" he nodded quickly—thighs shaking uncontrollably

"You can cum, baby" you stated after toying with him for god knows how long. He covered his face with one of his hands as he could feel he's about to cum, preventing you to see his face "put your hands away minnie, let me see your pretty face, look at yourself in the mirror" you said while keeping your pace steady as you feel his whole body trembling, thighs shaking as he's trying to close his legs from the orgasm but you held his leg open, spreading it wider. Seungmin puts his hand away from his face, allowing you to see his face in this messy state while his other hand is searching for your hand, intertwining it while he is not in the right state of mind, yearning for you.

Seungmin let out a long moan before you felt him cumming all over your hand, cumming in cloudy white thick sticky ropes onto your hands making a mess, while he is a crying mess too, broken moans coming out from his pink lips, he swore he saw god — he went to heaven and back

You begin to stroke him again, fisting his dick without waiting for him to come down from his high "w-wait, stop, please i can't, too much, too much" his word stumbled out of his pretty lips while crying louder each time you stroke his sensitive spot. You love how Seungmin is so vocal, you like hearing him whimpering, whining, begging, moaning and crying out for you out of desperation for more.

"You can minnie. One more time, I know you've got it in you" still stroking down on his shaft, not letting him rest. You like how helpless he looked and it didn't take long for his second orgasm to wash over him. His cock throbbed on your hands and before he knew it, you took off your pants and positioned yourself to sit on his cock facing him, using his cum as a lubricant before he cum for the second time.

Fuck—you missed him being inside of you, like this. His length is stretching your cunt so good "shit- min, so fucking big" you want to feel him cumming inside you, filling you up with his cum.

"Y-you're so tight baby, so warm," he grunts painfully between his cries, the sudden feeling of your warm walls clenching his cock makes him moan louder as he digs his nails onto your thighs, pain stinging you "cum inside minnie" you leaned your body forward to him, your hands holding onto his biceps on as you grind on him "you feel so good, god, I miss you so much Seungmin" you whispered as he hugged you, burying his head into the crook of your neck while you're burying his cock deeper into you "you take me so well i-i'm gonna cum, fuck" he moaned in your ear as his body shakes while releasing his cum inside you, filling you up fully into your core, you can feel it dripping out of you.

"Your thighs are shaking so much minnie" you point it out to him, his shaky thighs are sending a vibration against your body. "I know" he admitted shyly.

You took a box of tissue that was on top of his nightstand to wipe your sticky hands from his cum before caressing his hair gently. His body is still shaking from the post orgasm "you did so well baby," you assured him, patting his back while he's still trying to catch his breath, trying to come down from his high

"Shit" he whispers out of breath, nibbling on your neck, chest heaving up and down trying to catch as much oxygen to fill his lungs "let's get you clean, minnie, I'll help you okay?"

He shakes his head, signaling a no "not yet, let's stay like this for a while" he said, trying to collect himself back, cock still buried deep inside of you - "sure" you stayed in your position as he wishes

"mmh, stay still. stop moving around" he hissed while placing a slap on your bare ass because of your sudden movement "sorry baby" you apologized, feeling a little guilty since he's still sensitive.

"fuck, that was so good, my brain was fuzzy" he whispered, before looking at you, crashing his lips into your lips as a sign of thank you

"you did good too, minnie, you look pretty" you said while fixing his sweaty hair as he got flustered from your compliment

"C'mon min, let's clean you up" you initiated, trying to lift yourself up from your position just for him to hold you down, not allowing you to get off from him "I said, not yet, princess" he started to thrust his cock into you slowly, you let out a sudden moan.

"Are you sure you want to do it now, Seungmin?" you asked him, making sure that he doesn't do this just because he feels forced or feels the need to satisfy you back. You want him to do it only if he wants to "you don't have too if you don't want it, minnie".

"mhm I'm sure, I want it, baby" - he answered you while his other hand is fondling your clothed breast, thrusting into you slowly, really slow - too slow to your liking. making you needier, wanting to feel him all the way to your core, fucking you senselessly hard

"f-faster, please minnie...fuck me" you pleaded as you're getting touchy, touching seungmin everywhere. you know that he's doing it on purpose, to get back at you for what you did to him earlier "no, princess. be patience"

"fuck you" you cursed him while his cock pistoning slowly inside of you. "You are, right now, pretty" he kept on slowing his pace. his hands made their way to your ass, slapping it multiple times as you let out a moan, liking the way his palm met your bare skin, creating a loud slapping sound. you were sure that your ass is red enough by now.

"god, you're so frustrating Seungmin" you gave up, you ride him yourself, putting your hands on his shoulders to support yourself while you're bouncing and grinding on his cock like a rabbit in their heat, reaching for your own high as he watches you attentively riding his dick, Seungmin secretly loves having you on top of him.

"you just can't be patience and wait yeah?, princess" - he mocked

"s-stop calling me princess," you whined as you can feel your orgasm coming, really soon "minnie help me, please" you were so close and you were desperate at this point, you need him to make you feel good.

He switched your position, by now he's on top of you pinning you down to his bed fucking you so hard, eyes clouded with lust "you look so good beneath me, baby" the sudden quick friction is making your whole body shaking from pleasure, head buried down to his pillow

Seungmin is sick for having a mirror ceiling installed, you looked up to his mirror ceiling upon curiosity, "minnie look at us" you grabbed the back of his hair, tugging at his scalp, causing him to let out a grunt while you're forcing him to look up, to look at the reflection of his own body colliding into yours

"You like that? did Hyunjin ever do this to you?" he asked, quickening his pace, thrusting deep inside you.

"Stop bringing him, Kim" you clenched your walls that's wrapping is dick, annoyed by his demeanor while you earned a soft moan from him.

"my princess," - he mocked while tucking your messy hair behind you ear, making an eye contact with you. "he makes me feel so good, he fucked me dumb and raw, Seungmin." you blatantly lie to him, tired of hearing Hyunjin's name.

"oh, really?" he pretends to be shocked by your statement, his fingers lightly rubbing your clit, shocking you as it sends you another shockwave of pleasure that you can feel in the back of your throat "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you forget his name, princess" he nagged

"Stop teasing me so much, Seungmin". you place a light slap across his face, light enough to create a sound of your skin slapping his cheek. Tired of his games while his dick is ramming you so hard. He returns the slap back to you, slapping you hard across your face multiple times, leaving a red mark on your cheek while he is thrusting his cock deeper and faster, "is this what you want?, my love? you like it when I'm rough on you yeah?" he snarled at you.

"r-ruin me, minnie" you plead to him, you're nothing but a moaning mess, your whole body is trembling from the upcoming orgasm, breath hitched on your throat, head buried deeper to his pillow. You took his hand, placing it on your lower neck, motioning him to tighten his grip on you lightly as you held your breath.

His slender fingers wrap around your lower neck, gently applying little pressure to the sides. you like this, you live for this moment, you swore on your life that only Seungmin can make you feel like this.

"Should I call Hyunjin and tell him that I get to fuck with his dearest little girlfriend while he's away, princess? look at you" each thrust is getting sloppier as he's also trying to reach his high too. He put one of your legs on his shoulder, holding it tightly while fucking you deeper, sending you to another realm—you're praying to him, begging him to go balls deep.

"Call him, film us, send it to him" you spat back with a hoarse voice, threatening him.

"Do you think he'll like seeing you like this baby?. look at you all begging and moaning for my cock, look at how messy you are, look at yourself in the mirror" he praises you, his hands forcefully tilting your chin up to see yourself getting fucked by him.

"minnie, min..deeper, i w-want to feel you more, you feel so good minnie" you cried out while trying in vain to hold him. You're writing his name all over your tongue and all over your lips over and over again, like it is your only prayer, eyes rolling back to find your sanity while your brain is all foggy from lust, your hands are numb from the pleasure.

His pace begin to slowed down, fucking you deep and raw trying to make sure that you can feel every curve and inch of his thickness of his cock, hitting you in your deepest spot that you never know it existed everytime he thrusted. The sound of you skin slapping against his skin is getting more louder, his room becomes hot—hotter than hell

"m-min, too big, you're so big" you mewled out to him, weakly, you were beyond cloud nine by now. His hand that's on your leg searched for your hand, to interlock it tightly with yours, sharing his warmth to you, letting you know that he loves you

"my love, so pretty. You make me feel so good, so good for me baby. I love you so much baby," Seungmin confessed while quickening his pace. "you look even prettier in between my legs, minnie." your other hand reached to touch his hair, fixing his bleached bangs that are covered by his sweat, allowing him to see better once you slicked his bangs up.

"I-i'm gonna c-cum minnie" you stated, trying to talk coherently. His grip on your neck became tighter, slowing down the oxygen that went inside to your system as you feel the lack of oxygen become clear the more pressure he applies "you look so good with my hands around your neck" Seungmin stated while sending a shiver down to your spine

"seung-" you moaned his name desperately

"I know baby, I know" your walls clenched his cock tightly a few times as you're throbbing down there, "s-stop it, too tight" he can't take the way your walls clenched around his cock, it makes him feel overwhelmed. You were both a moaning mess by now, screaming for each other's name.

He pushed his cock deep inside of you, burying it as you can feel it twitching inside of you, "minnie, minnie I can't hold it" you whined loudly. You wrapped your legs on his waist pulling him to your body closer as you cum, coating his cock with your warm cum. He slowly let go of his grip on your neck, his fingers getting rid of a strand of your hair on your face, the other hand's holding your hands tighter while making eye contact to you, staring at you like you're his world

"Baby, I'm cumming" Seungmin warned you, his thrust is getting sloppier and messier each time "cum inside, fill me up" you begged, his body crashes on top of you. His lips met your collarbone, biting it harshly, you hissed as you could feel his braces grazing your skin. you're sure that you're bleeding while he's trying to enjoy his orgasm. "minnie, i-it hurts" you complained but he didn't hear you, his orgasm took control of all of his senses.

He can feel himself cumming soon as he plants his cock into you as deep as he can before filling you up, causing him to let out a long whiny broken moan while his cum fills you up to your stomach. you felt so full and sticky. You can feel his cum overwhelming and dripping everywhere in between your thighs to his bedsheets

The aftershock of your orgasm is too great, it makes your legs feel like jelly. You took a train to hell to feel heaven and back, trying to gain your senses back from the great amount of pleasure while Seungmin is trying to get as much air to his lungs.—you knew that deep inside this will cloud your memory

"That was so great, baby, are you okay? how are you feeling?" he asked, sighing still panting. You can feel his warm breath around your neck, you wrapped your hands around his body, hugging him. feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

"I'm fine, I feel good." you answered him, still trying to come down from your high, catching your breath

"let me see you" seungmin lifted his body up from you slowly to check on you, on the places he went rough "oh god" he panicked. Pulling himself away from you too quickly, making you hissed, feeling overstimulated from the sudden movement of him pulling his cock out, while your walls are still throbbing from the orgasm.

"I'm sorry, but you're fucking bleeding" Seungmin screamed, face went pale as he saw blood pooling on your neck from your collarbone, you held his wrist, not letting him run around across his room like a madman while he's on that state

"calm down, minnie" you said softly,

"How can I?, did it hurt?, did I go too rough on you?" he bombarded you with multiple questions at once. Guilt is written all over his face as he's trying to hold himself from crying, feeling bad that he went too rough on you.

"It's fine, it's only a small cut min, We should clean ourselves up Seungmin" you offered, avoiding the conversation

"no, no, let me take a look at it first" he insisted, hands trying to reach your cut, looking at it

"Let it be Seungmin, I'm okay." you assured him, cutting him off, drifting his attention from your cut

"please. please just listen to me for once y/n." he sighed, closing his eyes. Not wanting to deal with your antics and your stubbornness, Seungmin is on the verge of crying, he feels like he's at fault, he feels guilty for making you bleed.

"Fine," you gave up. tilting your head to the sides, letting him take a look at your wound "that's pretty big." he muttered, feeling upset at himself while rummaging through his nightstand drawer to look for an aid kid.

"I'll clean it, tell me if it hurts" he tells you before cleaning the blood attentively, while putting some iodine on the cut gently with a cotton "does it hurt?" he asked you, lightly putting a bandaid on your collarbone "not really, it's fine minnie. I'm okay" you reassured him once again.

"I'm so sorry, i went to harsh on you" he apologized, placing a kiss on your forehead "I may or may have not left some...marks" he confessed,

"It's okay baby, I love you too" you replied to him, slightly giggling while trying to get up from his bed slowly.

"You heard me?" he asked, baffled. He thought you didn't hear him, his head was running wild the moment he didn't hear you saying it back, his brain was filled with the thoughts of you not reciprocating his feelings back

"Of course, stop being silly" you giggles, slapping his thighs out of habits when you laugh

"Tell me that again" Seungmin pleaded, eyes piercing into yours

"I love you, minnie"

"I love you too, let's clean ourselves up. you're so messy, baby" he stands up first before helping you stand on your feet.

As soon as you're on your feet, you feel his cum dripping down into his floor staining it with the cloudy white substance making you feel all empty all of a sudden, you were frozen. this is the first time it has ever happened "that is so much cum" seungmin broke the silence innocently "yeah, most of it is your cum" you pointed it out. "yours too, baby"

He walked you down to his bathroom bedroom, you turned on his rain showers to the coldest water temperature, as you bask underneath it washing the hot temperature from your body as well as the exhaustion while you look to the side to see the sight from his see through window glass on your side, allowing you to enjoy the night city view.

Seungmin comes closer to you, shampooing your hair "isn't too cold?" he asked you. The least thing that Seungmin wants right now is a cold shower. you opted him to use his bathtub but he refuses to do so. here you are showering with seungmin while he's shivering due to the cold water hitting his skin.

"You're still so stubborn, seungmo~" you said while getting out of the shower, wrapping himself with towel before you wrap your own body with one of his new towel

"It's been so long since the last time you call me with that nickname" he chuckles, reminiscing the old days where you used to hang out with him, sticking with him everywhere he go

"You liked it?"

"Of course, it's cute"

You can hear your phone violently ringing on Seungmin's nightstand all the way from his bathroom, notifying that there's incoming calls from Hyunjin.

"You should pick it up," Seungmin said, reminding you while drying his hair as he makes his way to his messy room.

"No, just let it be" you refuse to pick up Hyunjin's calls. Not wanting to talk to him while you're with Seungmin, thinking that you can just lie about not picking his calls because you're asleep

"Yeah, i think I'm gonna clean my room" he said from across his room, starting to take off his dirty bed sheets before putting a new one

"I'll help you, minnie," you replied to him, walking towards his room once you're dressed with his clothes and pants.

"baby, do you wanna go somewhere right now?'' Seungmin asked whispering, while hugging you from your side, snuggling his head to you. not wanting to wake you up harshly

"Like, right now? it's barely 7am Seungmo" you answered him with your eyes closed, still exhausted from the things you did with him earlier today

"Yeah, we only have a week for ourselves before Hyunjin came back from his business trip, I wanna go somewhere with you this time" he speaks as his voice become smaller at the end of his sentence, feeling sad that he can only get to spend a little time with you while Hyunjin get to be with you as long as he wanted too.

You felt bad, his words stung your heart even though he didn't mean it to be that way. This is why you didn't want to agree with him when he told you that you should be with Hyunjin publicly while being with him secretly. "I'll go with you everywhere you wanna go minnie, let's go" you faced him, hugging him back sharing the same amount of warmth under his blanket while caressing his hair.

"Really?" he opened his eyes, eyes bloodshot red from the lack of sleep. "Yes baby, we should get ready" you stated as you opened your eyes, still cuddling him "where do you wanna go?" You asked him this time as you pulled away from him to get up from his bed.

"Let's go to jeju and book a private villa, I'll look for the plane ticket right now" he says recklessly, you know that Seungmin isn't a person who'd do everything without planning it first. He's an organized man and it's new to see him like this just for the sake of spending time with you.

"That sounds fun but what about your work minnie?" you asked him, reminding him about his company. Of course you were shocked by the sudden last minute trip but you're happy that finally you can get to spend some time with him.

"Jeongin will do everything for me" he assured you while you're packing everything into the suitcase. You've left quite a few of your clothes at his penthouse frequently whenever you're visiting him in your free time, whenever Hyunjin is away.

"Oh that's nice" you retorted as you're getting yourself ready, washing your face and brushing your teeth. "I got the flight tickets and it's at 9 am, we have to hurry," Seungmin exclaimed as he began to frantically move to his bathroom to wash himself. "Slow down seungmo," you remind him.

"baby, can you dye my hair?" Seungmin asked you, while laying down on your lap. you've arrived at the villa trying to get some rest for a while before going somewhere with seungmin. "yeah I can, what color do you want it to be min?"

"Hmmm, I think, light brown?"

"That's cool, what about your bangs minnie? Are you going to dye them too or let it be?"

"I'm gonna let them be, I like it" he stated and before you could reply to him, your phone rang - of course it's Hyunjin who's calling, you pressed the green button on your phone with hesitation, lazily answering his calls

"Hi princess, how are you? I miss you! I actually bought something for you" Hyunjin exclaimed, voice pitched high, excited to give you the gifts that he bought once he's back.

"oh really?," you asked back, acting all curious while playing with Seungmin's hair, who's laying on your lap

"It's a surprise. you'll see it once I get back" hyunjing answered you cunningly now that he got your attention.

"How's the photoshoot going with Felix?" genuinely curious about his photoshoot and the concept. You know that Hyunjin is a good poser, everything looks good on him even if they put him in an ugliest outfit - he'll make it look good and it's something that only Hyunjin can pull off.

"Actually, it went pretty well" he giggles "I'll give you a couple pictures" he stated.

"Send me a lot of picture, Hyune" you chuckled back, jokingly

"Will do, princess. I have to go to a meeting with felix now." he chimed, as you hear him rustling around getting ready

"yeah, be careful Jinnie"

"I will, bye princess"

"bye Hyune"

"I love you" Hyunjin stated, not expecting any answer from you

"I know Hyune, don't love me too much" you joked at the end while ending Hyunjin's call. Seungmin's still laying on your lap playing with his old phone. Not long after you end the call, your phone vibrates, notifying you of an incoming text from Hyunjin. He sent you a lot of pictures of him and Felix posing for cosmopolitan.

You can never lie about the way Hyunjin look, he will always look good but this Hyunjin is hitting different - the way his hair is styled, his eyebrows slit and the way he's posing for the camera, looking at its lens directly with the camera, making it feels like he's looking right into your soul. "he look so hot" Seungmin blurted, peeking into your phone to see what makes you quiet

"Yeah" you agreed with seungmin's word. indeed hyunjin is hot and all but is just that you can't see yourself with him "do you like him?" Seungmin asked, curiosity is killing him

"no?, why would I like him?" you question him back

"Because he's better than me" he admitted to you, his words are deceiving you as it enters your auditory senses.

"No Seung, what makes you think like that?" you asked him while you turned off your phone, putting it away from yourself. Your gaze drifted to Seungmin who is now closing his eyes while humming a song. You stroke his hair softly.

"Because you deserve someone better than me" he answered you quietly with no emotions displaying on his face

"You don't mean that, Seung. Why?" you asked him back. You were on the verge of crying, your heart feels like it has been torn apart by a dagger stabbing you. Every word that comes out from his mouth is hurting you, and by the fact that it comes out from the man that you love with all your heart, makes it worse. You can't understand him. no, even if he tried to explain it with every vocabulary that existed; you will never understand him.

"I don't feel like I'm....enough y/n" it took Seungmin years to finally say that to you,

It took him a lot, it cost him his vulnerability to be seen by you. It's not easy for him, never. He lived his life filled with regret ever since he told you to be with Hyunjin - he felt stupid.

And that's the cherry on top, your chest tightened, you felt sick to your stomach, your breath hitched. you felt like the world had stopped rotating, you stopped stroking his hair. "...please don't stop, do it again" Seungmin said quietly, bringing you back to your senses

"Seungmo...I've always loved you. I was made to love you, for years I have yearned for you minnie, you deserve to know that. you're more than enough. you deserve everything minnie" you added, placing a kiss on his forehead before you started to stroke his thick hair again.

"do you think so?" he asked, his voice sounded as thick as his hair and brittle while looking for more assurance from you — his home

"yes baby, you're more than what you think you are minnie, you're my everything. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you" you answered him with honesty. It's hurting you too, it hurts to see him like this

"It was my fault for putting you in the relationship that you've never wanted in the first place, I love you so much and you're hurting too because of me" his voice begins to heighten at the end of his sentence while he's sniffling

"It wasn't your fault, it's not your fault minnie, never..part of it was my fault too. I should've not listened to you and stay with you"

"I know but sometimes, I don't always know. you know? but thank you for staying and for loving me" he murmured, opening his eyes slowly as his tears threatened to fall off from his eyes, making it difficult for him to see before tears escaped from his eyes, rolling down to his face.

"you're crying...don't cry, I am here with you. minnie-

you have stars in your eyes. I love looking at it" you said while wiping his tears off gently as he closed his beautiful eyes. You place a gentle kiss on his eyelids. "don't cry, minnie. It's going to be fine" you assured him as you took his hand and brought it closer to you to place a kiss.

"I hope so too. Please stay with me forever even when I'm not at my best version of myself" he wishes before he let out a soft sob

"I will minnie. You know, I've been thinking about breaking up with Hyunjin. I cannot bare the thoughts of being apart far from you anymore" you began to speak, still stroking his hair

"Then do it, be with me" he added, no longer crying; afraid of losing you to Hyunjin, losing you to someone who used to be his own best friend. Seungmin has lost a lot of things, be it small things or big things during his lifetime but he can't lose you, not you — too.

"I will baby - and I hope you're ready to be taking the fall for me" you joked at the end. You wish you could end this all easily, after all you're still a human with a heart —too. Seeing Hyunjin cry after seeing Seungmin cry will be the end of everything, as much as you don't feel a thing for Hyunjin. He's still a human too.

"I will, anything. Just to make you happy, my love. your happiness is my happiness" Seungmin replied while snuggling into you.

304 notes · View notes

stxrvel · 2 years

Text

the 5 stages of (my) life

summary: he was everything. there was no before or after him. it was just him.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: i think 7k?

warnings: thoughts of loneliness, depersonalisation, mention of depressive symptoms, a lot of bad words at some point, implicit descriptions of sex. i wrote this to be pure angst, idk if i got it, we'll see, you'll tell me.

note: i was watching Grey's Anatomy today and a specific episode about a couple inspired me to write this. it's too inspired by that so thank you Grey's! i don't know if i got the angst i wanted, i hope i did. i actually wrote this just with suffering on my mind. anyway, hope yall like it!! (English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!) also, I uploaded this at half past one in the morning so I didn't have time to edit the quotation marks, but tomorrow night I'll make the text look much nicer!

thank u for reading!

You never thought things would go this far.

"I'm not going to stand here and watch you risk your life because you're incapable of expressing your feelings. I'm not worth being put through this."

"You're talking about my fucking life! Why do you want to take control of all the shit I do now? Fuck you."

"I can't believe how fucking insane you've become."

You never thought things would get worse like this.

"I gave up a lot of things for you and you know it!"

"You make it sound like I forced you to. I never asked you to give up your life for me!"

"Exactly, that's the damn problem! You've never asked me to do anything, you've never asked me to do anything, I've just done all this stuff on my own trying to cope with a relationship that's become… one-sided!"

You had heard for a long time how a great many people had said that their best relationships had started with a flame. You couldn't count on the fingers of your hands the number of times you've heard someone say that the best relationship is the one that is always alive, where they keep the flame burning.

But what if it's not a flame? What if it all started with a fire?

You'd heard a lot of things about love, about life, about attachment, but you'd never really experienced it, and you couldn't know how, with the lifestyle you led, your reactions would be when you finally had one. Although, honestly, you didn't expect to ever have one after so many disappointments and abandonments; however, there was one thing that was common about love, that you had heard everyone say: it comes when you least expect it.

But the moment came and, after that event, you considered that your life had only five stages. Only five truly remarkable things that had brought you to the eternal extreme of misery. There was nothing before, there was nothing after. There was only him.

You had seen that man, by far, about seven times in the last month. He had a stern look on his face, as if he was in a constant staring match with someone inside his head, or as if he was someone completely drained of emotion, who had lived and felt too much and was tired of it.

Or maybe he was just unfriendly.

Every time you went to therapy, within the last four weeks, you met that man.

The two of you always waited, sitting across from each other in the narrow hallway, trying fiercely to avoid each other's gazes. Or well, you tried not to meet his too much, sometimes it really felt too heavy. Then he would be called first and, more often than not, he would come striding out with his hands clasped. If his vibe was too strong for the session, your therapist never tried to point it out. When he left, the doctor would appear behind him with her typical half-smile calling you by your last name, even though you had asked her not to do so several times.

The other times, which were not so common, the man actually took the time to look serene. You even thought you saw him give you a nod in greeting once, but you couldn't be completely sure of that.

You had never spoken to each other, you were just two strangers who happened to be in the same place at the same time of day at certain times of the week. Still, sometimes, when his eyes met yours, you felt like you were looking into a mirror.

Anyway, you had never spoken to each other, until one day you decided to change that, just because what was the worst that could happen?

"After a while it feels like you have no reason to come, don't you think?"

The man turned his head, and it was the first time he saw you out of volition. His clear eyes moved in an almost imperceptible way, analysing something about you, your face, your clothes, your posture. He looked like a predator ready to strike, but he didn't count on you being a very, very chill gazelle.

"I don't know if you can relate, but it's been really hard for me to come these last few times. I think my only motivation is to come here to have a battle with you of who can go the longest without seeing the other for 30 minutes even though our feet are almost touching?"

You thought you heard a snort in response. Mmm, it wasn't much, but worse was nothing.

"You could just not come," he replied, more crudely than you expected, actually surprising you because you didn't expect him to even pay attention to you.

"Yes, I could," you agreed with him, your gaze drifting to the white tiles, "Anyway, I don't have someone who really cares that I'm okay."

You twisted your lips in a very conformist gesture, and dismissed your attempt at conversation as a failure. Indeed, what was the worst that could happen? That the man would think you were pitiful. But what does it matter? He is a stranger. He's the only person you see regularly besides your therapist. Why should you care that the conversation didn't work? You shouldn't expect the opposite. At some point he'll stop going, he can't be as bad as you. When you least expect it, it will just be you in that narrow hallway again.

"Therapy can be very counterproductive for people who are alone."

You looked up when the man spoke again. You didn't know if you were seeing wrong, but his gaze wasn't as hard as before. He seemed… sympathetic.

"If it makes you feel any better, you're not alone when we wait in this hallway."

You didn't answer him. You watched him as if he were a fly swatted on a wall. You didn't know what to say. What was that supposed to be? Words of support? From a stranger? And what was supposed to be a response to them? That man had flipped the table on you, catching you off guard, and that didn't make you feel very good.

You watched him even after a while in silence, when he had already looked away, his head was down and he had focused on other things. You didn't know what your scrutiny was about; you didn't know whether you were looking for a lie or a mockery, a truth or a ruse. You didn't even know what it was all about. But what does it matter anyway? He's a stranger. He's a stranger sharing that narrow corridor with you. A stranger. A stranger who gave you a few words of support. A stranger. It's a stranger. He is a person.

You shook your head, suddenly regaining your composure. You ran your hands over the fabric of your trousers several times, up and down, down and up. Constantly. About ten times.

You didn't know if it was just you, but you felt suddenly obfuscated in that corridor. As if the walls had invisible hands closing around your throat.

You didn't really know much. You only knew that after the doctor called the man, James, you would never again take the liberty of speaking to strangers as if they were acquaintances, especially those in therapy.

But your mind went blank when James stood up and, before he left, looked at you as if it was something he had planned to do. As if he really wanted to do it. As if he had intended to…

No.

No more.

It didn't work.

Of course, it goes without saying that it didn't work.

How could it work? You saw him at least twice a week. And you were weak. Too weak. Too weak. Extremely and potentially vulnerable to suddenly hitting people who gave you a little affection and understanding. You were vulnerable to hitting people. You were vulnerable to ending up in therapy. You were vulnerable.

So what didn't work? Trying to limit your conversations with James to looks. Over the next three weeks, he seemed to have made it his mission to try to keep you company. Did he have any idea how uncomfortable that was for you? But you weren't going to tell him, how could you? Apparently the man wasn't a grumpy, mean looks machine, he was definitely a person who was getting some therapy. He was a person who understood your situation because he had to go through it himself. He was a person. He was a stranger.

Mostly, at that moment, you remembered the conversation that had led you to be in that coffee shop. It was strange. You felt alien to yourself, to your surroundings, but you tried to keep your mind enlightened so you wouldn't freak out.

"You look different."

"We saw each other three days ago."

James twisted his lips. "That's no excuse for not noticing that you look different."

You took a deep breath.

"You really made it your business to talk about something every time we see each other. Did you get tired of me beating you in the staring duels?"

"I'm just trying to get you back in therapy."

"By harassing me with questions?"

"By turning me into a person who cares."

You frowned. The constant knot in your chest was starting to become more and more unbearable. You felt the food from that morning in your throat.

"You'll get the opposite."

James pursed his lips and held up his hands.

"Hey, are you doing anything on Saturday?"

That had been the first time. Yes. Completely out of the loop, somehow you'd agreed the first time. And maybe it wasn't as bad as you'd hoped. Or maybe it was. You had no idea. Just as you had no idea how you had ended up in the same situation for the fifth time.

Fifth time? My goodness.

"You're particularly quiet today," James' face suddenly materialised in front of you.

At what fucking point had he arrived?

"I'm always quiet."

"Not as quiet as today. Are you okay?"

"What are we doing?" you blurted out suddenly. You didn't even process the words in your head until you saw the man's face contort in confusion.

"What are we doing?" James repeated your question, "We're having coffee in a coffee shop."

"You're a top notch clown, you know that?"

The man let out a laugh, and you watched his shoulders move in time with his breaths.

"We're just sharing time. Don't freak out."

"Sharing time?"

"Yes, sharing time."

"I don't think I've shared time with someone in a long time."

"That's not bad. It's good to share time with yourself."

You twisted your lips. You stared at the bubbles in your coffee, still steaming on the table.

"I had to learn to share time with myself," you looked up to see him with his head cocked to one side, a gesture you had learned to associate with his absolute attention to your words. "You've shared time with yourself?"

James nodded.

"All the time, to tell you the truth. I can barely escape myself."

You smiled at him. The constant knot in his chest seemed to have subsided for now.

"I guess we both got to learn."

The man raised his glass of black coffee, tilting his head, "It's the hazards of the job."

Yes, that was definitely what it had to be about. The things that constantly occupied you outside of coffee shops and therapy. Of the things that occupied your head so that you didn't delve into your intrusive thoughts, even though sometimes they seemed to come alive and present themselves in the faces of the people you saw in your daily life.

Undoubtedly it must have been because of that night job. It wasn't a job you loved, it was a job you imposed on yourself to try to make yourself feel better at night when you were trying to sleep. It was a duty. It was a task you couldn't refuse. Too many people had already died for you to give up. You had nothing left.

Many people said it was the job of a vigilante; other people said it was the job of a criminal. In the end, what did it really matter as long as it left you with a clear conscience?

Your therapist knew, but you didn't know if James knew. If he was aware of it and preferred to overlook it to have coffee with you. Or if he knew and preferred to ignore it so as not to ruin things. Or if he knew and pretended he didn't so you wouldn't notice he was doing it all out of pity. Or if he didn't know.

Honestly, you didn't know which was worse.

Sometimes you thought things were better when you were just strangers in a narrow hallway. Sometimes you thought it would be better if you didn't have to make an emotional commitment to him, even though you knew you were already doing it; unconsciously you were doing it.

You had always believed that it was better to be alone. Not to have company. Not to share time with someone you could potentially lose. It was easier to get the job done when you got home and didn't have to answer a text or remember that there's someone waiting for you to text them that you got home safe and sound.

"Hey, don't overthink it."

James' voice broke your concentration. You focused your gaze on his face, suddenly feeling oblivious to the whole scenario.

"You don't have to give it a name, or even think about it. If you really, from the bottom of you, didn't want any kind of company, don't you think you wouldn't have come the first time I asked you?"

"Are you saying this is what I want?"

"I'm saying that you're a person who's used to being alone, but you don't have to be if you don't want to be."

"You're an enigma."

James smiled. "Thank you. I think the same about you."

But it was true what he'd said, you were thinking too much. One of the things your therapist kept telling you was to try to stop living in your head. Acknowledge your surroundings, feel every sensation and take in every possible smell.

It was difficult when the reason you wanted to be in your head all the time was the same reason that all your senses were perceiving at the same time.

But you tried. You felt the wood of the table and the warmth of the coffee cup, you took in the smell of caffeine and James's perfume, a little piney and citrusy, you savoured the coffee left in your mouth from the last time you took a sip. Slowly you tried to bring yourself back to that moment, to focus on your present and, sadly, to acknowledge that you were in a coffee shop with James Barnes.

It was something you constantly shied away from. To acknowledge that you spent time with him. With him. That he deliberately chose to spend his time with you. That you, intentionally, decided to spend your time with him. With the one who started out as a stranger. A person. A friend. A…

No.

It had been a while since you had decided to stop closing yourself off to all the possibilities life had to offer. Sometimes you didn't recognise how you got to that point, but other times you felt something close to pride for allowing yourself to go that far. And, really, it could have been one of the best or one of the worst decisions you had ever made in your life.

You spent weeks trying to deny James coming into your life, but the moment you opened the door to him, you had only gone up.

You didn't know you missed the company of a friend on sleepless nights and confessions. You didn't know you longed for the warmth of a lover until hours passed and you couldn't tear yourself away from each other. You didn't know you wasted time denying the feeling. You didn't know that you needed to take a few days off from the exhausting work you had set for yourself. You didn't even know that the work was exhausting.

When you were able to recognise all those things, you were also able to recognise that you had been living life on the edge. You were constantly exposed to everything before you met James. Exposed to danger, to death, to loneliness. You were living too fast because you felt you had no time, that at any moment you would run out of time and you wouldn't have done enough.

And then you finally decided to give yourself a break. From everything. Absolutely everything. Everything.

You moved in with James.

Yeah, definitely.

You took turns shopping. You took turns doing the dirty dishes. You took turns cleaning the flat. It felt like perfect harmony; like suddenly everything was in its place and it seemed like nothing could go wrong from that point on.

"Wait, wait!" you exclaimed with laughter. You moved your body off the bed, the peach-coloured sheet covering your body. You tried to stretch to reach for your mobile phone on the nightstand but James' hands around your waist prevented you from moving too much.

"You can answer that when we're done," the man purred, his hands straining, but not too hard, to pull you back onto the bed.

"Hold on a moment, James Barnes," you mumbled back, when you finally reached for the mobile phone and let out a triumphant laugh.

Vanessa Lennox, you read on the screen, as you felt James cling to your back.

"It's Vanessa," you told him as you unlocked the phone to check her messages.

"Vanessa texts you all the time."

"I know."

"All the time."

"That I know."

"These nights are supposed to be for us. She's not asking you out, is she?"

"No, no, she's…"

I'm in trouble. Can you come over?

"She's all right."

I can't, but I'll write to Tommy. He told me he was watching today, he must be near where you are.

"Are you sure?" you felt James' breath on the back of your neck, as his lips began to touch the most sensitive parts of your back.

"Yes…" you replied in a whisper. "She's going to be fine."

"Then stop turning your back on me," James spoke, his breath colliding against the small of your back. You arched unconsciously. "Look at me."

You inhaled air sharply, leaving the mobile phone locked to the side of the bed. You let James's hands guide your movements until you were trapped in his arms, his chest pressed against your back.

"You're bossy sometimes, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Only you, to be honest."

"Yeah, sure you have," you smiled incredulously.

You stirred until you could stand face to face with the man you shared a bed with every night. His light eyes quickly met yours, and his hands squeezed each side of your waist.

It was getting a little chilly. There were nights when you didn't know how you could stand to be so long without clothes under those sheets. It was easier for James, the weather didn't affect him as much as it did you at the moment. You shivered as a chill ran through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. You pulled your body close to his, settling your head where his neck and shoulder met.

"Maybe the window is open," you heard him say.

"You know I always close the windows all over the flat before I go to bed."

"Okay, then we'd better figure out a way to get you warm."

As he finished speaking, the man moved, lowering himself from his position until his head was at the same level as yours. His eyes smiled at you as your teeth unconsciously flickered from the cold your body felt. His mouth also stretched into a smile, one of the many smiles you had learned to love. It was a very homely smile. The kind of smile that only you could see, that only you could see, that only you could see. It was a very domestic smile. It was the smile.

"Do you want me to get the other sheet?"

"No," you answered quickly. "I'm fine. We can proceed."

James let out a laugh. His eyes grew small from the flex of his cheeks as he laughed. You saw every flex and line of his face and it was like a balm to your mind.

It wasn't long before the man, in the midst of his smile and that feeling of ecstasy, brought his face close to yours and kissed you as if he hadn't kissed you in years.

Kissing James was like touching heaven. It was like being at peace after years of constant war. It was a great, vast, calm ocean. It was the absolute silence of tranquillity. It was like a great rest after years and years of travel. With his kisses you could begin to believe that you would never be alone again. With his kisses you didn't feel alone. With his kisses you believed it was possible to never be alone again. With his kisses you lost the fear of accepting him unconditionally in your life.

With his kisses, you lost the fear of loving him.

You loved the way he cradled the side of your face when he kissed you, every time, without fail. You loved the way he would start slow, soft, so tender, then fill you with passion and control your mouth without weariness or fatigue. You loved the way he then moved his hands all over your waist to the curve of your buttocks, as if he was admiring every millimetre of your skin through his touch. You loved the way he made love to you afterwards, sometimes so subtle and sometimes so out of control.

To have James was to have the best of everything at the same time.

"Are you getting up early tomorrow?" James asked as he pulled away from you. When you saw his eyes, his pupils were dilated and his breathing resembled yours: quickened and eager.

"No."

"Good."

He kissed you hard.

"Because you're not leaving this bed until Sunday."

James had begun to accept occasional missions that Fury gave him. You never agreed. No matter when or where they asked you, you would never have agreed to it. But clearly you couldn't just keep him in the flat until the idea was out of his head. You had thought about it a few times, but… no.

You tried to adjust to the fact that he wouldn't be around as much as before, but it was very difficult. It felt as if you had been given the most delicious candy in the whole world, left to treasure it, to savour it a little at a time, to get used to having it next to you, only to have it ripped away from you without warning, totally unprepared, leaving you to realise that everything was really out of your control. You didn't have the candy in your domain, you had been allowed to have the candy and then it was taken away from you.

"Try to concentrate," you heard Vanessa's voice.

You looked up to find her watching you from the roof of the building across the street. You felt a strong desire to rip the communicator from your ear and stomp it to dust with your boot. It was strange. It was a feeling of constant anger that you didn't know how to control. You were constantly angry except when James came to the flat.

"I'm focused."

"You better be," Tommy spoke up, "because my life depends on it."

"You shut your mouth and focus on not losing sight of the target."

"Vanessa, remind me why I agreed to do this."

"Because you're a great friend who supports absolutely everything we do."

Friend. At what point did you start to consider someone a friend? James was your friend. You thought you considered him that. Your partner. Your friend. James was your boyfriend.

"And you're totally unconditional to us."

A friend is unconditional. James is your friend. He's your partner. Friend. James is unconditional to you?

"I have to start working on my boundaries."

"No, our friend needs to start working on her temper. She doesn't get the required amount of sex a day and she's already starting to freak out."

You frowned.

"So you consider your friend's problems to boil down to sex alone?" you snapped at Vanessa, not avoiding the sour tone with which your words came out. You couldn't help but take it personally. Was that being an unconditional friend? Or being a friend?

"No," she replied quickly, "You know I didn't mean it that way. I was joking."

You hummed a nod, downplaying the words. Playing it all down. Because it didn't really matter, it was so silly to get angry about it. And it was very strange for you to get angry about it. You didn't even used to have relationships close enough to allow yourself to get angry about something they said about you. That was the big example of why you didn't do it.

"The target is moving. He's heading for the nest," Tommy spoke again, his serene tone bringing you back to the topic that was truly important. "Do you see him, Vanessa?"

"Got it."

"Good. Just move into the room towards… Wow, who's that? Who the hell's in there?"

"Damn," Vanessa mumbled.

"Wait a minute."

"We can't wait that long."

"I know," Tommy exclaimed, and from his exasperated tone you could imagine how he was running his hands through his hair repeatedly.

"What the hell do we do, Thomas?"

"I told you to wait!"

"We can't wait, dammit!"

"Wait."

"Thomas, I'm going to-"

"Hold on."

You peered through your binoculars. The large panes of glass surrounding the flat where the target was located didn't let you see much inside. The room the man was in was not as well lit, but you had gone in well prepared.

Finally you could see what the others were seeing. The man had entered the room he was supposed to enter, but there was another man in there with him. And, as far as you could see, they had made themselves comfortable. It didn't look like the other man was going to leave any time soon.

"Let's do it," you spoke, breaking the silence, giving voice to the only option they had that neither of the other two wanted to say.

"Are you insane?" Tommy exclaimed through his teeth.

"We don't have a choice. We declare it a red zone and end the mission."

"We don't even know who that man is," Vanessa interjected, her voice unsteady as she was unable to acknowledge that you were right, hesitating because you were running out of time.

"That's what the red zone is all about."

There was a moment of silence. You knew they were both considering it, the idea had been in their heads since the man entered the room, but their moral compass was much stronger than yours.

"He could be an innocent person," Tommy tried to justify not making that decision.

"How innocent can he be sitting there with the target?"

"And how do we know he's guilty?" Tommy exclaimed back.

"We're wasting more time discussing this," Vanessa spoke again, and you could breathe in her deep inhale before she said, "I think we should do it, Tommy."

The man cursed through his teeth.

You looked through the binoculars again, and both men were still inside the room.

You heard a beep on the communicator and then a steady static. Someone had changed the channel.

"I'm relieving myself as mission leader. You're in charge," it was Tommy.

"What?"

"I can't do this."

"Thomas…"

"I can't make this decision. Just… just do it."

You heard the beeping again and then it was Vanessa saying, "Thomas, what the hell are we going to do?"

"Vanessa, aim for the target," you ordered as you began to open the case next to you, just in case a situation like that arose.

"What?"

"This mission has been declared a red zone. We're going to proceed according to protocol."

The woman didn't speak again.

Nor did she say anything when you had climbed down from the rooftops and found yourselves in an alleyway in the middle of the buildings. You were waiting for Thomas, your guns already stowed in the van.

"He relieved himself," Vanessa spoke after a while, and though it sounded like she wanted to ask a question, it sounded like a statement.

"Yes."

Vanessa shook her head in an affirmative gesture. She didn't say anything else. She leaned against the concrete wall with a blank stare.

Your mobile phone rang inside the van.

"Is that Thomas?" your companion asked.

You moved closer to look at the device's screen.

James.

"No."

You took the mobile phone and moved away from the woman's figure, further down the alley. Your heart was racing, it was out of control. You had been waiting for that call for days. You had spent sleepless nights waiting for one measly message. You had taken hundreds of missions just so you wouldn't have to endure sleeping in a bed alone. You felt like your body had been frozen until that moment, until that call, and finally….

"James? Are you here yet?"

A woman called your name on the other end of the line.

"Bucky arrived a couple of hours ago."

Your feet stopped walking.

"And the mission went well?"

Silence.

A beeping and constant muttering was all that answered you on the line.

"Is James okay?"

"He's stable. He suffered some injuries. We lost communication with him in the last few days and we thought that…"

You couldn't quite remember when you had arrived at the old Avengers Complex. Your body moved automatically and your vision was so blurred that you had no idea how you could get through the crowd without bumping into someone. It was all very strange. You spent months convincing yourself that it would never happen again. Ever since James accepted those damn missions, you spent weeks trying to convince yourself that nothing would ever go wrong. That his kisses would always be there. His reunion kisses were the best, they were a wellspring of calm that washed away all the anxiety that consumed you alive during the days when you couldn't hear from him.

You had already made up your mind that it would never happen again. He promised you that it wouldn't happen, that you wouldn't have to relive that heartbreaking feeling one more time.

And he broke it.

You wanted to be relieved to see him. You wanted to be happy to know he was alive. Bruised, but alive. You wanted to hold him, to stay with him and never let him go again. But you just stood there in front of his stretcher. And he didn't try to make you come closer either. He saw it in your eyes, you knew it. He knew it.

Seeing him on that gurney made you angry. It aroused your anger that this man had broken the promise he sealed with so many kisses. You felt so much disappointment that your chest had become a bottomless void of a feeling of impersonality. You didn't want to be there. You didn't want to go through it. You preferred to think that you could overlook it. You should overlook it. Why didn't you overlook it? You could live in ignorance, pretend to be the perfect girlfriend. Everything could be easier for both of you, for you, if you just ignored all those feelings and took this situation as a normal person would.

But your knees gave way to your tears and crashed to the floor. From the corner of the room, you could see your body shake in uncontrollable weeping. You didn't know why it hurt so much, if he was alive. You didn't know the reason for the agonising pain, if he was there. And yet, your face contracted in incalculable pain. It was as if he had died on that stretcher. It was as if you had been called to come and acknowledge his corpse.

And you knew James knew, because he hadn't said anything since you arrived. He had done nothing but watch you.

There, from the corner of the room, you could see him crying with you.

He knew.

You knew it.

The mission was simple.

Infiltrate, seduce, accompany, lull, kill.

But simple doesn't always end easy.

Since James had returned to the flat, he had vowed never to go out on any mission again, under any circumstances. And, indeed, he was keeping that promise. He was spending as much time at home as before.

But you weren't.

Every time James tried to talk to you about that mission where he might have died, you went into a kind of shell where you shut yourself off from all communication and fled from that place to one where you felt more at ease. More in control.

You got so tired of running away that you decided to start investing that time in something that would actually pay off. You started accepting missions with Thomas more often than before.

You knew James was trying to understand you, he was trying as hard and as willing as he could. Sometimes you would arrive and there would be dinner for you in the fridge or in the microwave. Sometimes you'd see your clothes piled in a corner of the yard suddenly neatly folded and smelling decent. Sometimes you'd walk into the bedroom and find little presents on top of the nightstand, right next to your side of the bed.

You knew James was trying.

But you also knew he was getting tired.

Weeks passed since you first came in and he was waiting for you sitting on the couch. It was a very hectic night, with too many questions and not enough answers. Sometimes you arrived and the flat was lonely. Sometimes you arrived and there was no food. Sometimes you arrived and there was only screaming.

But it was easier that way. You'd already felt what it was like to almost lose him, you'd already experienced that overwhelming emotion that had been with you so much in the past, and you knew, beforehand, that if it happened with James, there was no way you'd get out of it alive, so it was easier this way.

So it was easier that way. He'd walk away on his own, you'd forget about him, and you wouldn't have to suffer if he ever died.

Die.

James would die one day.

But not a day when he was with you.

So yes, you did spend a lot of time away from home.

Maybe you really should have thought twice before deciding that this was the best option.

You knew you dreaded James' death, and the loneliness that followed his passing.

But you had no idea how panicked you would be at the thought of your own death, after meeting him.

Because you would forget him, and that would be fairly easy for you, but he wouldn't forget you. And he would suffer, much more than he was suffering since you didn't come home.

"What the hell happened?" you remembered hearing a voice.

You couldn't be too aware of your surroundings lately.

"It was a simple mission," you heard another male voice.

"It was supposed to go well. She was supposed to call us if things got complicated."

You remembered little of being in the hospital.

You remembered a lot of James sitting in an armchair next to your gurney.

You remembered a lot of his silence.

You also remembered when, some days, you were awakened by his cries and had to pretend to be asleep so as not to interfere with his suffering. Because, ever since that accident happened, ever since you could remember what happened after that, James had become wary of his feelings. He wasn't as expressive as he used to be. And you didn't have the slightest idea what to do.

You couldn't believe that before you could get to the point where you could tell how each other was doing just by listening to each other's breathing, and after that you couldn't even meet each other's eyes by accident.

You were two strangers again.

You were losing him. You knew it. Every day that you went without doing something, without talking to him, without showing a hint of remorse for what you'd done, was a day closer to being completely alone again.

And you didn't even show it, but it was painful. Seeing him shut down like that, seeing him lose the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you, realising that he lost the will to try… knowing that you took away his will… it was all too much.

Really, you never thought things would get this bad.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't think they had gotten this bad, until one day you came to the flat and saw a suitcase in the room full of his clothes.

"I'm tired."

Those were the first words he'd spoken to you in days.

"And I don't have to put up with this anymore. So I'm leaving."

You knew it was going to happen, but for him to say it like that…

"You're leaving?"

James turned to look at you. His icy expression paralysed you.

"Are you still surprised?" he blurted out gruffly, and continued packing his clothes.

You just stood there in the doorframe, watching him move as fast as if he had a coal-fired engine in his chest. As if he couldn't wait for the moment when he could finally get out of there.

"Really…" he spoke suddenly, "You've really gone weeks, weeks, without speaking to me no matter how many times I've tried to talk to you, and you decide to do it now just because you're watching me leave? That's what I needed to do to get you to react?"

You didn't answer, you just watched him, your mind blank. He was angry. Irate, rather. And you knew he was absolutely right, but you couldn't do anything about it. You couldn't do anything about it because things were going your way. If James went away, if he went away hating you, he wouldn't suffer in the future when you died and you could forget him in peace. That was the best thing. The only good thing you could do for him: keep him away from you.

"Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"

Yes, you do.

"No."

"No?" he repeated incredulously. "I know I made a mistake. I made a mistake in accepting those missions. I told you, I did it countless times. And yet, all those countless times you chose to turn your back on me."

The man watched you, his eyes filled with pent-up emotions that he finally allowed to overflow.

"I tried to understand you. I really did. I gave you your space. I tried to do whatever you needed because I knew it was hard for you, but it was like… trying to water a cactus daily. Everything I did seemed to have the opposite effect."

You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, I was overcome with fear and panic. I got carried away. Please don't go.

"You didn't even give yourself a chance to listen to me. Not once. Do you have any idea how all that made me feel?"

Yes, you must have felt very lonely. Abandoned. Despised by me. It was my fault. I shouldn't have let it all go so far.

"Do you want me to call a taxi?"

Of all the things you longed to say, that was the only thing your mind allowed to come out of your mouth.

You saw him sketch the sternest look of disbelief you'd ever seen. But you also saw pain, extreme pain at the rejection of your words.

"Are you fucking kidding me? How can you be so cynical?" James exclaimed, his face contorted in anger and helplessness. You cringed a little at the shout but didn't move away from him as he came striding towards you in long strides. "Tell me, did you even care about me? At any point in this… relationship, was anything you gave me real?"

You half-opened your lips to answer, but could not formulate the sentences you knew would comfort his heart.

Yes, absolutely everything was real, all my love and suffering was real.

James walked away, and you didn't know if it was possible that his face could look even more downcast.

Your hands were shaking with helplessness. He was still there. You could still try to save him. Why didn't you? Why? Why? Why?

"How can you be so fucking expressionless? How can you not be in pain… for this? How?"

"You're going to be fine," the words escaped your mouth before your mind could process it.

The man turned to look at you.

"You really are…" he raised his hand and gripped it tightly, swallowing his words and turning back towards the wardrobe to start throwing his things into the suitcase.

Suddenly, he let out a scream. And then a cry.

"I swear, if you'd just tell me no, I'd stay."

He looked at you. His tear-filled eyes met yours and you knew that would be an image that would haunt you to death.

"I would stay… I really would, but… I still can't believe you are so foolish. The first thing you did when you left that hospital was to go back to another mission. How could you care so little about your life? How could you care any less that I care about your life?"

I care about my life even more since you're in it. Don't go.

"It's just work," is what you replied.

"No, no, no…" James hummed with laughter, but his face lacked grace. "I'm definitely not going to stand here just watching you risk your life because you're incapable of expressing your feelings. I'm not worth being put through this."

"It's my life, James."

"But you made me part of your life! I'm here! We're supposed to share our lives together. Why is it only about you now?"

"It's supposed to be my choices…"

"But why can't I be a part of them?" James exclaimed loudly. Your mind clouded over, and even though all you wanted to do was apologise from there until the end of time, you had too much pent up anger because of that very inability to say what you truly thought.

You're right, I am unable to express my feelings. I am sorry. Don't go away.

"You're talking about my fucking life! Why do you want to be in control of all the shit I do now? Fuck you!"

"I'm not trying to control anything, goddamn it! I just need to know…"

"No! You don't need to know anything. You don't need to know anything about me. We're here and you're packing your bag. You have no right to know anything."

James let out a snort.

"We're here and you still can't talk to me. I can't believe how bloody insane you've become."

"Just go."

Don't go.

"This is bullshit."

James finished throwing all of his clothes into the suitcase. You watched his every move, every flex of his body, every grimace on his face, every flick of his hair, how his fingers clutched at the things he took, how his scowl didn't lessen one bit. You watched and watched. It was all you could do.

You leaned against the doorframe and watched him take his anger and pain out on his clothes and his suitcase. It gave you a strange kind of feeling to see him like that, something that felt mildly familiar but you couldn't put a name to it. You wanted to turn things back. If you could turn back time you would, and every single thing that went wrong you would fix.

But would you really? Did the problem really go back to when things with James started to go wrong? The problem was you. You were the problem. You couldn't talk, you could only think, you could only repress, you could only suffer. Only you, you and you. Only you because you were alone, because you had always been alone and there was no reason to believe that could change. James lied to you, that was the reason he was leaving and you had no reason to stop him. He had to go. If he didn't want to go through that, he shouldn't have lied in the first place. If he didn't want to go through that, he shouldn't have asked you out in the first place. He shouldn't have met you. He shouldn't have spent time with you. You shouldn't have stopped him.

Stop him.

You should stop him.

James closed the suitcase.

"I did too much for this relationship. I gave up too much for both of us. I gave up everything I was for this relationship. I gave up too much for you and you know it!"

You narrowed your eyes and began to approach him in rapid strides. He towered over you by several inches, and there was a time when you loved that, but now you hated that he could see you that way. He had always seen you that way. So small…

"You say that as if I forced you. I never asked you to give up your life for me!"

"Exactly, that's the damn problem! You've never asked me to do anything, I've just done all this stuff on my own trying to cope with a relationship that's become… one-sided!"

You walked away.

"Just… leave now."

Please leave before I tie you to this flat and never let you leave again.

He wanted to say something else. You knew he wanted to say something else. It was obvious he hadn't said half the things he wanted to say. But he didn't.

He took his suitcase and left.

He really left.

He walked past you, not caring that the brush of his shoulder against yours almost made you fall. He passed you and walked straight to the exit, slamming the door hard on his way out.

He was gone. He was gone. He was finally gone. He was really gone.

Now you were alone. You were alone again. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? You'd done a lot of things in the last few months to make him go away, and he was finally gone… but then why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you want to run after him? Why did you want to go and kiss him? Why did you want to stop him and beg him to forgive you?

Who did he think he was to deserve that after what he had done?

But… what had he done?

No.

What had you done?

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes

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ikeromantic · 3 years

Text

Delicious (NSFW edition)

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction taking place at the end of Ch. 13 in the romantic route. Approx. 1700 words of Fluff and Spice! Some spoilers maybe?

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Tears of Joy

There were three things in this world Mitsuhide enjoyed above all else. One of them was a hot bath, and one of them was teasing his little mouse. To have both in one place at the same time was decadent.

Right this moment, his little one was sinking into the hot water, her expression one of pure pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, cheeks faintly pink. A sheen of sweat covered her brow from the steam. She looked . . . delicious.

Of course, she chose the moment he licked his lips to open her eyes. “Mitsuhide! You - you’re staring at me!” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Little one, I’ve seen you naked several times now. Why are you suddenly shy?”

“I - you - I feel like a real mouse about to be eaten up by a very happy cat.”

“Kitsune,” Mitsuhide corrected.

She blinked. “What?”

“About to be eaten by a very happy kitsune.”

She giggled. “Yes, I guess that.”

“You have such a beautiful smile, my love.” He watched her expression shift from laughter to charmed surprise.

“I don’t know what to say when you say things like that.” She touched her face, where the bruise still discolored her skin. “Especially right now.”

Mitsuhide shook his head. “Silly little mouse. As if such a fading mark makes you any less.” He shrugged off his clothes and let them pool at his feet.

Whatever she had been about to say was reduced to a sharp exhale at his sudden nudity. Her eyes went wide as she tried to fix her gaze on a point somewhere above his chest.

“Is there something wrong?”

“N-no! No, of course not! You’re. Just. Naked. All the way. Naked.” She swallowed.

Mitsuhide grinned. “I did plan to bathe with you this time . . .” He *might* have posed himself to best display his . . . attributes. “Should I wait until you finish instead?”

She licked her lips and shook her head. “I - you - just get in and quit teasing me!”

“What fun would that be, little mouse?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. Perhaps never. He walked slowly to the edge of the tub, using his dancer’s grace to draw out the movement. It was worth every second to see the stain on her cheeks darken and the desire in her eyes grow.

He stepped into the wooden tub and sank down into the hot water. A little groan of pleasure escaped him as he felt the tension melt from his legs and back. “If there is a heaven, little mouse, this is in it.”

She smiled. “I wish I could introduce you to the baths in my time. And hot showers!”

“Mmm, perhaps one day. Your friend seemed to think these . . . warm-holes? Will come again.”

“Sasuke did say as much. I don’t know how sure he is though. I mean, what if we went to my time and got stuck? Or what if I went but it wouldn’t take you?” She chewed at her lip, anxious over all the possible things that could go wrong on such a trip.

It was too adorable, Mitsuhide thought, and put his arm around her. He pulled her next to him and placed a kiss on her head. “Don’t worry about things that are not problems. We have enough ahead of us.”

His little one laughed softly. “True enough. I’m sure Nobunaga and Hideyoshi will have plenty to say when we get home.”

“Yes, those two for certain. But I don’t want to talk about them tonight. Tonight . . . there is only you, and I.” Mitsuhide ran his hand down her back, glorying in her soft skin, and the way she leaned into his touch.

“Oh? Are we going to talk about us?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

He nodded. “We will. But first-” He settled his hands on her hips and lifted her around to sit in front of him. “Let’s enjoy our bath.” He cupped water in his hands and poured it over her hair, running his fingers through it. “I will start with the top of you, and work all the way to the bottom.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling her little, wicked smile. “The bottom, hm?” And then she wiggled against him.

Mitsuhide couldn’t have held back the groan that burst from his lips, or the sharp intake of breath that followed. He’d been hard when he got into the bath, but now he felt as if he might burst. The sensation of her naked skin rubbing his cock was like fuel to his flame. And she knew it. She was smiling more widely now, fully aware of the effect she had on him.

“Oh . . . little one . . . you will pay for that,” he breathed.

“Looking forward to it,” she replied, spoiling the bravado a bit by swallowing nervously after.

Though it was sheer torment to keep her pressed against him, Mitsuhide held her there as he first rinsed her hair. Then he rubbed her skin with fragrant herbs, gently removing the dust of their travel.

It was hard enough to wash her back, but when he turned her around, she used the moment to wrap her legs around his waist. Positioning herself deliciously atop his erection. He ached to be inside her, and wondered if his little mouse had any idea how much self control it took him not to simply . . .

She was laughing softly. Her eyes were merry and her smile was brilliant.

“Wicked little mouse. If I were any other man -” he growled low in his throat, letting his frustration show.

She leaned forward until her nipples brushed the skin of his chest. “Mitsuhide. I want you. You don’t need to hold back with me.”

And then he was kissing her. It wasn’t what he’d planned. Wasn’t the seduction he’d wanted to perform, but gods . . . she tasted so sweet. And she felt like silk. Her slick, warm fingers stroked his chest, his hip. Curled around his shaft. He thought he would die from the pleasure of it as she slid her hand slowly up, and then down again. His body shuddered against her.

Two could play at that though. If she wanted to bring him to the brink . . . He grabbed her breast in one hand, teasing the nipple with his fingers. His other hand slid down between her legs. He could feel how much she wanted him just by the heat from her.

The sound she made when he stroked her sweet pearl was half-gasp, half moan. He smiled, watching the way she trembled as he slid the pad of his thumb over her cleft again. Not that it helped his own situation. Touching her was torture. Like the sound of dripping water when you were mad with thirst.

She gave a raw cry of pleasure as he slipped his fingers inside of her, clenching tight on him as if she would hold him there. “M-my god . . . M-mitsu . . . hide - I - I -”

He might have said something then, taunted her a little, but she stroked him again, and whatever words he had were lost. He wanted to bury himself in her, to make her cry his name until she was hoarse from it. His fingers slid into her again and again, but it wasn’t enough for either of them.

Gasping, he moved his hands to her hips and pulled her into position atop him.

“Ah-haha,” she gave a panting laugh. “Y-you d-didn’t beg me. Yet.” And then his little mouse - no! His little vixen - rubbed his cock between her legs, pressing him tight enough that he could feel her clench as if to pull him inside. She moaned as his shaft rubbed the hard pebble of her clit.

It was enough to drive him mad. This game she was playing . . . she wanted him to beg. Then for her, he would. “Please.” The word purred from his throat. “Please . . .” Low and hoarse and desperate.

She rose up, and then sank down onto his shaft. Her body shuddered and she let out a piercing cry of pleasure that went higher the deeper he went.

Mitsuhide was a proud man. He would have liked to draw this first time out - to ride her to completion several times before he found his own satisfaction. But the feel of her climaxing against him, the sound of her, the sight of her breasts . . . it was too much. After months of teasing himself with her, and taking no other woman to his bed, he couldn’t hold back.

“I love you,” she gasped, her hips rising and falling as she rode him.

He pulled her down to his lips, kissing her until their tremors subsided. “I love you too, little one,” he said when he could speak again. He felt so relaxed that he didn’t want to move. Not an inch. He liked having her perched on him, impaled. Her naked breasts floating in the hot water, brushing his chest. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes on him, and only him.

“We waited way too long for this. Just. Mmmmm . . .” She smiled.

Mitsuhide stroked her cheek. “I wanted to wait. I wanted to be sure that . . . that you wanted this. Me.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea how sure I am.”

“I think I might,” he smiled. Then his expression turned serious. “When we get back to Azuchi, I plan to ask Nobunaga for the right to marry you. I will make you my wife. Officially. In name and title . . . if . . . if you are willing.”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Mitsuhide Akechi?” She wiggled her hips, which made him gasp involuntarily.

“I am.”

“Then yes. If you promise me we’ll make love like this every night.”

Mitsuhide kissed the tip of her nose. “I can’t promise you that.”

“What? Why not?”

He grinned. “Because I plan to make love to you in a thousand inventive ways. I plan to tease you until you beg for release. To pleasure you as an art form. One that I will master. This . . . tonight . . . this was only a beginning.”

“Mmmm, I think our beginning isn’t quite over,” she smiled. And she was right. He was ready for her again.

That night he began an intense study of this new art form. After the bath, they moved to the bench, then the desk and the wall, and finally . . .the futon. Spent, they fell asleep in each other’s arms just as the light of morning began to peek through the window. It wasn’t near enough to wake the exhausted lovers.

Next: Hero's Welcome

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #smut and fluff

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harrysgloves · 4 years

Text

The Devil You Know

Harry Styles x Reader

Story Summary: CEO!Harry punishes reader in his office after catching her flirting with his coworker.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Language // This is just straight up p*rn // Daddy kink // Spanking (belt) // Oral Sex (male receiving) // Vaginal Sex // Anal Sex // Degrading // The slightest bit of choking // Probably a whole lot more that I’m missing // Not edited... sorry

Authors Note: Another work in progress finally DONE! YAY! Hope you guys like it! Feedback is always loved and appreciated so much! Thank you guys so much for reading. xx

>>><<<

Your high heels clicked against the cold marble tile of the lobby floor for the second time that day. Your billowing black winter coat hit your knees with every step you took towards the elevator.

You could have seen him earlier but his secretary swore he was busy. Like he could ever be too busy for you. You scoffed, a roll of your pretty eyes before telling this no-good conniving bitch what was up.

"Tell my daddy that his girl was here," You said, tongue wetting your lips as you leaned over her desk. Your perfectly manicured hands landing loudly over the papers she should have been working on instead of hitting on your man. "And just so we're very clear on something, sweetheart. He's not my father."

You turned on the spot, hips swaying just a bit extra as you marched yourself back down to the elevator. Grumbling under your breath the whole way.

Who did she think she was?

Harry was yours. Your daddy, your sweetheart, your boyfriend. You two had been together for years. Your name was tattooed in red ink on his wrist for fuck sakes but that sense of jealousy burned deep into the pit of your stomach.

The vibration from your phone was the only thing that pulled you out of your thoughts to go up there and teach that girl a lesson on who ran the show around here. His picture flashed across your screen. You scoffed, ignoring the call, and shoving the phone back into your expense handbag. Yes, it was against his stupid rules to ignore his phone calls but you were pissed. He could go screw Karen, or Tina, or whatever her name was for all you cared.

"Bad day?" The sound of another voice in the elevator made you jump. You didn't even notice someone else in here when you got on. How long had he been watching you throw a fit?

"You could say that." You sighed, your back leaning against the cool metal of the elevator as it reached the bottom floor. Door opening to reveal the perfectly decorated lobby floor.

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't have bad days." He flashed a smile towards you when you chuckled, shaking your head at him. He was cute, you'd give him that, but he was no Harry.

"I'll keep that in mind." You said as you started to walk out in front of him. Until your heel caught on the ledge of where the elevator met the floor. Your hands desperately trying to catch onto something before you hit your ass on the ground. You weren't dressed to be falling. A small silk camisole dress paired with no underwear didn't make for a good look if you landed with your legs wide open right now.

Plus, that pretty pink plug Harry had fucked into your ass that morning before leaving you wanting and needy didn't exactly seem like the best thing to be landing on.

The hands around your waist was the only thing that saved you from mortifying public embarrassment. Your arms against his toned chest as he held you inches from the ground.

"Thanks." You breathed out, a cheeky smile on his face when he lifted you back to your feet.

"Well," he said, his arms still on the small of your waist. "I'm part-time broker, full-time knight in shining armor."

You laughed that big deep luscious laugh that made Harry fall in love with you. Your hand ran over his chest to lay back down the collar of his suit that you had grabbed. You backed away without a second thought, thanking him yet again before leaving the building.

Not once seeing Harry's fuming face staring you down from the stairwell.

>>>

"Kristen?" Harry asked as he exited his office. His eyebrows scrunched together when he opened his door to see the new girl sitting there with no you in sight. He could have sworn he heard your voice.

"It's Catherine." She corrected what he assumed to be a flirty look crossed her face as he stood in front of her desk.

"Right. Anyway, was a girl jus' out 'ere looking fo' me?" He asked, describing you down to what you were wearing for the day. The mental picture of you sauntering around the apartment in that fucking dress when he didn't have the time to do what he really wanted to do to you that morning played in his mind.

"Uh, well, someone was but she ran off pretty quickly." She lied with a shrug of her shoulders. Harry's eyes narrowed at her when her cheeks flamed red.

Why did he always end up with the crazy assistants?

"Y'sure 'bout that?" He asked again, his hardening stare made her splutter and crack as he rounded her desk to stand directly in front of her.

"You were busy, Mr. Styles, I sent her away." She mumbled, her eyes flashing away from him when he cursed under his breath.

He already knew what you'd be thinking. His hands fished in his suit pocket for his phone to press your icon. One ring, two rings, voice-mail. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of how insecure you could get sometimes.

Not like you ever needed to be insecure. He thought you were a total knockout. Plus, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you.

"Y'can pack up yeh things." He said as he slid his phone back into his pocket. Her eyes widened at his words, fake apologies started, but he didn't care. He only wanted to make sure you were okay. He needed to reassure you that you had no reason to feel insecure or jealous.

You were the only girl for him.

His fast steps down the stairs got him to the lobby in no time. Whatever thankfulness he had to catch you before you left was gone the second he saw that bastard touch you.

He swore his eyes could have shot flames through that curly headed asshole. His chest pounded with a rage he didn't know he could feel when you laughed. God, that fucking laugh. His tongue wet his lips before his teeth ground together.

You touched him. Your hands ran down his chest, smoothing out his suit, like you'd done for him so many times. Your fingers lingered a second too long. The guys hands tightened into the fleshy curves of your hips a little too much, pulling you in closer to him before you eventually walked off.

Your bouncing ass caught the attention of the guy who had touched you. Shameless staring at his fucking girl while you walked out of the building. He had to repeatedly remind himself that he couldn't beat the shit out of his own employees.

His fist unclenched when you were long gone. He brought his phone out once again to send you a text.

My office. 7pm.

>>>

You stormed through the lobby, up the elevator, not paying any mind to the people around you. Ready to burst into an angry monsoon of jealousy, when the sight of his empty receptionist desk stopped you in your spot. Her things, gone. A baron desk with no sign of a girl simply gone for the evening greeted you.

He'd fired her.

Suddenly, the anger you'd had bubbling in your stomach faded. Replaced with that sinking feeling of guilt. He always seemed to know what was bothering you, even before you talked to him about it. Which was just another one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as your hand laid on the doorknob, knowing he was going to be upset with you. It took everything in you to swing open the door to his office exactly at 7 on the dot. Not a minute early but not daring to be late after your little show of ignoring him earlier.

His stiff demeanor screamed you were in trouble as you shut the door behind you. You swallowed thickly, heels clicking hesitantly against his floor as you made your way to his desk. Your fingers skimming the dark oak wood as you moved around to stand in front of him. Your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you glanced down to see he hadn't moved a muscle.

No words had been spoken through the tense air. No sound dared to come from you. You knew better, knew how upset he got when you ignored him. So you stood, perfectly still in front of where he sat, your sight hyper focused on the scratch marks on his desk instead of his intense eyes.

You'd have to be easier on this desk in the future but you had a feeling today wasn't going to be the day.

"Got somethin' to say fo' yehself?" His voice was hard, leaving no room for your shit tonight. You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat as your eyes finally met his. They were colder than you'd ever seen before.

Usually, when you acted out, he found a bit of humor in it. Teasing you about being nothing but a brat but always letting you know he wasn't going to put up with it. He always went easy on you and honestly, you were a good girl. You almost never broke the rules and when you did, it was something trivial.

You were never one to get in trouble on purpose, at least not with him.

"I'm sorry I ignored your call." You tried to say in the least shaky voice you could manage.

He hummed, acknowledging your words but not accepting your apology. Those dagger like green eyes burned through your body, directly into your soul as his thumb twisted his gold ring on his pointer finger.

"Anythin' else y'need to tell me?" He asked as he raised from his chair. His large chest mere centimeters away from your face as you stood your ground, literally.

"No?" Your eyebrows scrunched as you peered up to him. Utterly confused on why he was so pissed at you.

The sharp stone like features of his face didn't help settle the racing thoughts in your mind. That cold chill that ran down your spine as his lips pressed into a hard line. The back of his hand as it skimmed across the highs of your cheek bone was the only feeling of warmth in the otherwise frigid room.

"Know why I got y'this?" His finger ran across the pink leather of your choker collar, across the gold "H" that was embedded in the middle.

Your big doe-eyes flashed up to him. You didn't sway an inch as his fingers laced through the ring that dangled at the bottom of your choker. His grip was firm around the cool metal. His hold kept in place as he stared down at you.

"Because I'm yours." Your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked at him, not having a clue as to why he needed to remind you.

You gasped as he tugged you forward by your lead. Your feet barely stayed in their spot on the ground as your hands grasped around his arms for balance.

"And do you think I like what's mine flirting in the elevator with my employees?" His words shocked you, stuttering, spits of partial words fell from your mouth as you gaped up at him. "Think I didn't see?"

"Harry, I wasn't flirting with him." You tried to explain away the situation. It was simple, a misunderstanding. "He helped me when I-"

"Did I say y'could use my name?" He practically growled through clenched teeth. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. Boy, were you in trouble.

"No, daddy." Your voice was soft, eyes all dewy as you stared up at him. A show, really, you loved when he got like this. That familiar ache already growing in your core as he dropped the lead on your collar. You quickly stood back up in your place, hands by your side as he stalked around you.

A hunter watching his prey.

"What's y'word?" He asked as he circled back in front of you. His suit jacket was abandoned over the back of the chair. Ringed finger hands loosening his tie around his neck.

"Peony." Your tongue wet your lips as he rolled up his sleeves in front of you. The crisp white linen of his shirt sleeves being rolled up was only a slight distraction from the nod of his head.

"And your hard no's?"

He wasn't fucking around. You considered it for a second, all the things you two had previously taken off the table.

"Still the same." You told him, knowing that this meant he was really going to push you tonight.

He studied you for a second longer. His head dipping down to catch your line of vision, eyebrows raised as if he was mentally asking you the same question again.

"Good." He said when you gave a nod of your head. "Strip."

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. Your hands shook by your side as you clenched and unclenched your fist, once, twice, three times. Just enough to get you in your head space.

The skin on your arms raised in goosebumps as the warm fur lined jacket slid off your shoulders and onto the floor. A pile of useless fabric pulled into a puddle at your feet. Your slip of a dress followed directly after it.

A scoff of a laugh came from him, a shake of his head as he turned away from you. Long, silent, steps over to a much-needed drink from the bar cart in his office. Your eyes lowered to the floor, watching the pacing of his shoes. Ears zeroed into the sound of liquid pouring, a deep gulp, and then more pouring. That lump in your throat grew with every slap of his heel back in front of you.

Of course you had to pick today to be defiant.

"It's like y'wanna be in trouble, baby." He hummed and you swore if you looked at him right now he'd be wearing that smug little smirk.

"Pretty." He mumbled, his fingers dancing across the lacy top of the underwear you'd slipped on when you got home. "Too bad yeh not 'posed to be wearin' 'em."

"Off." He snapped his fingers in front of your heated face. At least he wasn't ripping this pair.

The stringy lace slid down your silky smooth legs. Each high heeled foot stepping out of the leg holes one at a time. Shaky hands handing over the garment you put on in a moment of anger.

Your eyes refused to meet his as he slid the panties into his back pocket. Your lips rolled into your mouth as he stared at you. The heat in your body raised with each passing second as he finished his drink.

God, you'd never been in this much trouble.

"Y'know I was gonna take it a little easy on yeh." His words and the sound of the glass being sat down snapped you out of your fixed trance on the floor. His shiny black shoes disappeared from your line of sight as he circled around you. "Figured my baby girl jus' got protective over her daddy."

His hand ran down your cheek from behind you. Your head instinctively nuzzled into the few fingers that trailed from your jawline to your lips. Chaste kisses pressed to his fingertips.

"But now, I see you need a good lesson on who makes the rules." You gasped when his hand clamped around the front of your neck, your head snapped back roughly against his shoulder. His fingers digging into the side of your neck made you whimpered, a low stirring in your stomach.

His hand released you only long enough to loosen his tie. The fabric you once gifted him for his birthday dug into the skin of your forearms and wrists behind your back. The restraint, a little tighter than usual, not enough to hurt but enough to let you know this wasn't some usual punishment.

"Bend." He said with a tight grip on the tie that held your arms in an uncomfortable position behind you. Your body maneuvered by him until your hips hit the edge of his desk. You gasped as your bare chest was pushed against the cold wood. Your nipples peaked from the sudden ice like material that you now laid halfway over. His hand finally left the intricate knots holding your arms back when your cheek rested on the table top.

"Looks like y'know how to listen when it comes to this." You could imagine his eyes rolling as he stood behind you. His hand ran down your ass, to the plug he'd placed there this morning. A quick tug on the pink silicone drew a whimper from you, your legs shifting back and forth in their spot.

Harry had to hold back a groan as he watched your hips sway. His hand gripped his twitching cock that throbbed in his pants at the sight of your pretty wet pussy already soaking for him. A smirk spread across his lips, his hand gripping the flesh of your round ass again.

His perfect little baby girl was such a whore for him.

Fuck, you were perfect.

"Thinkin' three fo' 'ry rule yeh broke today." His accent somehow thickened the more turned on he got. That heat burned in your stomach that turned in anticipation and a bit of nerves.

"Y-yes, daddy." Your voice betrayed you with shaky cracks.

The room quickly quieted again after his hum of approval. His hand left your ass, left you completely. Silence had you straining your ears for any hint of a sound when you heard it.

That familiar clink of a sound.

You buried your head into the smooth surface of the table, lips pressed against the wood to hide the moan that wanted to slip past your lips. Your core clenched around nothing but air, not sure how this was anywhere close to a punishment when you constantly had to beg him to be this rough with you.

You gasped as the cool leather of his belt ran down the strain muscles of your back. Tauntingly slow as it passed over the fabric of the tie, dancing across your fingers.

"What're in trouble fo'?" He asked from behind you, your lips that had been tightly clamped between your teeth unrolled, just enough to talk.

"Not answering your call, wearing underwear, using your name, and-" you sighed, "Touching another guy." You finally spit out, not wanting to add anymore lashings to your ever growing amount.

"Hm, think'll add three more fo' that one." His voice was hard and cold through the air around you. "Better hear yeh count, sweetheart."

He gave no warning other than that. The sound of the leather slicing through the thickened air in the office was your only clue of what was coming. The sharp snap of the hide hitting the soft flesh of your ass rang through your ears before you felt the sting.

"One." You spoke into the wood. Your nose flat against the desk, hands tightening around your restraint as the shockwaves of a dull pain ran down your spine, directly to your steadily wettening folds.

Two, three, four, more and the spark of a pleasure still burned, lingered down into a blazing river of red marks across your ass cheeks to your pulsating pussy.

"T-t-ten." Your words choked and contracted in your throat when the belt smacked across your ass, five more left and you were determined to make it through. The grunts and groans that rolled from deep in his chest as the leather dug into your flesh again and again. Whimpering sobs, face flushed with tears and mascara as he went harder on you than ever before.

And that fucking plug you decided to keep in.

You were teetering on the brink of your headspace when the final smack came. Your breast smashed against the now warmed surface with the force. You cried, pushed forward into that floating sensation of the deep part of your mind as you were lifted by your restraints. Body maneuvered until you kneeled before him, heels haphazardly kicked off in the motion downwards to the ground.

The searing skin of your ass cooled against the marble floor when your shaky legs gave out to the weight on them. You sighed from the little bit of relief you got, stuffy nose from crying so much, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs. You were too wrapped up in yourself to hear the clank of the belt hitting the floor.

Your foggy mind lifted out of the deep when you felt his hand around the back of your neck, his cold features barely broke through your vision that was clouded with tears.

"What do y'say, baby?" His hand tightened in the hairs at the back of your head. A hard jerk backwards had you gasping in surprise.

You were far from being done with your punishment.

"Thank you, daddy." Your voice cracked from the amount of tears you were holding back. The words you'd spoken did nothing to change his unimpressed facial features, his tongue slid across his front teeth as he studied your mess of mascara and eyeliner.

He stood up abruptly, his hand didn't leave the back of your neck, sufficiently holding you up from your ass resting on the cool tile.

"Yeh know, darlin', daddy doesn't punish yeh as much as he should. That's on me more than yeh. Should've put yeh in y'place more often, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened up to him. Whatever shred Harry always kept of himself while he was in this role was abandoned. No, now, he was fully in his dominant role. The waves of demand rolled through every part of him. His voice, his demeanor, his words.

"That's okay though, baby, gonna learn who yeh belong to. Isn't that right?" He practically cooed at you. A mock tone that made your face heat as blood rushed to your face.

"Yes, daddy." Your chest seemed to heave with anticipation.

"Open." He said as his hand clamped your mouth open for you. Your obedient tongue sticking out for him before you even had a chance to think twice about it.

Harry hummed as he stared down at you. The hand that was around your jaw slipped into your open mouth. His finger fucked into your open and waiting throating. Your legs tightened together as his smirk grew wider at your movement.

Sure, you weren’t supposed to move but God, you always wanted it so bad he couldn't help the turning of his lips.

He lowered himself to your level. No words were said as he loosened your restraints. The fabric that held your arms back finally, finally, was gone. Your body slacked forward as Harry backed away from you. His towering form loomed over you as your hands fell forward to hold yourself up.

The strain on your muscles in the back seemed to lift only momentarily before he guided you upwards by your upper arm. Your back on the now warmed surface of the desk, your head hanging off the side, your freed hands clutched beside you as your anticipation for what was coming grew.

"Gonna show me how sorry yeh are, darlin'." His throbbing cock was finally released from its confinement. The hard, pulsating, tip was red and aching for relief. Only millimeters from your upside-down vision.

Your legs spread wider at the sight of him. Your toes pointed against the smooth oak, your arousal felt like it could have been running in a river down your legs as you licked your lips. Your mouth opened without any demand from him as he stroked his cock in front of you.

"Good girl." He groaned, his hand guided himself into your mouth.

You always had a hard time taking him. He was just so big, so thick. Your tongue pressed against his tip as he slowly rocked into you. His hands grasped onto your breast as his cock slid further and further down your throat.

You moaned around his member that stretched open the sides of your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat, breathe through your nose.

"Relax yeh throat." He grunted as your throat constructed around him again. The irritated tone in his voice only made your slick folds drip with your arousal.

"I said to relax." He said once your gag reflex halted his movement for a third time. A harsh slap of his hand landed on your open and waiting cunt. You would have yipped at the feeling if you could have. He ceased your moment of being off guard to finally push himself fully inside.

You moaned the best you could as your throat finally relaxed. His balls rested against your nose, the crotch of his pants and zipper rubbed against your face but you didn't care. He felt so good in your mouth.

You heard him let out a moan as you felt your nipples harden. His fingers lazily rubbed at your swollen clit as he slipped down your mouth.

"Why can't yeh be a good girl like this all the time for me, baby?" He asked as his hand held the back of your neck. His hips picking up to a pace that was almost too much for you. "So much fuckin' better for me when yeh jus' a hole for me to fuck."

He pulled out of you suddenly. A string of your spit connected from his red tip to your mouth before he bent down to your level. The look behind his eyes was intoxicating. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

"Gonna have to keep you tied up to my desk, aren't I? Only time yeh good for me if when yeh have a cock stuffed in you."

"I'll be good." You said as he stood back up. His hands gripped your thighs to turn your body around like a rag doll, your ass in the air as your face laid on the desk, again.

"Be good, huh?" He teased his tip against your opening, a deep groan left him from just how fucking wet you were. "Yeh call throwin' yehself at my employees bein' good?"

"I didn't." You pouted, your bottom lip stuck out even though he couldn't see it. His cock parting the folds of your pussy, the thick tip against your sensitive clit had your hips shifting.

You wanted him to stop being mad at you and just fuck you already.

"If I wanted someone else to touch yeh I would have told them to." He started to slip into you, the overwhelming sense of him starting to stretch you already filled you. Blood rushed to your lightheaded head as you restrained yourself from pushing backwards onto him.

"Such a tight cunt." He grunted as the thought from your earlier run in fell from his mind. Your velvet caves pulled him, his anger melted away as you clenched around him.

A hard thrust forward had him directly on your sweet spot, your eyes rolled back in your head as you held on tightly to the front of the desk.

He wasn't messing around and he wasn't holding back.

You could feel his hip bones smacking against the abused flesh of your ass. The sting sent an electric shock through your body as he wrecked you. You could feel him pounding all the way into your lower stomach as your jaw unhinged from a sea of moans.

"Think he could fuck yeh better, sweetheart?" Harry asked as he pulled on the plug in between your cheeks. His cock rammed into you as the silicone slipped out.

"No." You finally managed to get out an answer through your moans, your wrecked vocal cords cracked until he let up. You almost turned around but you knew better, the sound of his bottom draw opening gave away his next move.

You two needed to fuck at his office less. He had way too much sex shit laying around here.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the cold gel of his lube coated fingers slipping into your tighter hole. Your breath caught in your throat as he slid back inside of your pussy. Your eyebrows furrowed together from the overwhelming sense of pleasure that pulsed through your veins.

"Such a slut, know that?" He spoke as a second finger joined his first one, fucking you open enough to take him. "Lemme fuck yeh in ever hole in my office."

"Fuck." You moaned into the wood, your hands gripped around the front edge of the desk as he pulled himself out of you, a generous amount of lube slathered across your hole before he put some on himself.

He took a second just admiring your wrecked state. Your pussy opened wide for him, able to be fucked so easily now that he'd destroyed it. Your ass shined red with lash marks, your hair a complete mess.

He had to stop himself from shooting a load into his own hand. His thoughts getting the best of him as he stroked himself from behind you. His tip pressed into you slowly as he waited for your muscles to relax.

You felt like you could have bit your bottom lip off from how tightly it was tucked under your teeth. Your nails dug into the desk as he pushed further into you, his head finally getting past your tight ring. His hips laid flat against your ass, his hands pulled back each cheek to get a good look at himself stretching you out.

"Gonna ruin you for anyone else. Y'understand?" He mumbled into your ear as he pulled up to his chest by the front of your neck.

"Yes, daddy." You squeaked out as he finally moved his hips. His head rested against your shoulder as you let out a sound you never wanted to admit to making. His cock hit all the right places, the stretch wasn't painful but you were so tight there you could feel every one of his veins pushing against your walls.

You felt so full of him it was almost overwhelming. You could feel every throbbing jump of his cock as he pumped in and out of you. His grunts as his teeth dug into your shoulder, his fingers from his free hand swirled around your clit while his other one squeezed the sides of your neck.

Your arousal slicked all the way down to your shaky knees as your body bounced against his cock. You panted out moans as your body burned red hot. Your orgasm was just on the horizon, so close you could hardly keep your eyes open.

"Gonna cum with daddy's cock in yeh ass?" He asked even though you had no idea how he managed to put together words in this moment. Your own mind wasn't able to let you do anything more than nod.

"Cum for me then, pet." His finger pressed down harder on your clit, cock shoved deeper inside of you.

Your vision blacked around the edges, body shook, your high washed over your head all the way down to your toes. The sound of your moans carried through the office, down the halls of the almost emptied building. Your mind barely had time to put together the fact he'd pulled out of you.

Until he slammed back into your cunt.

A warmth filled you as you whimpered, your body slacked in his arms as his cum dripped out around himself.

"I gotcha." He mumbled as he moved you both into his office chair. Your makeup smudged face pressed into his chest as you came down from your high. His hand ran across your back in soothing circles.

"Baby, yeh did so good." He said into your hair, his lips pressed in light kisses against your scalp. "Such a good girl. Made me feel so good, baby."

"Gonna take yeh home and get yeh a bath, hm?" He asked when your body felt less limp. You hummed your agreement, head still in that floating space for a second.

"Harry, you know I didn't flirt with him, right?" You asked after a moment. Your fingers danced across his bicep absentmindedly.

"Yeah, jus' like yeh know I didn't sleep with my secretary." He let out a chuckle when you raised your head to pout at him. "Gave me a good reason to fuck yeh like that though."

"Shut up." You muttered to him. Your eyes rolled as he gave you a stern look.

"Pup, I jus' fucked yeh into next week, do not start with me again."

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x you #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Smut #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #Mine #One Shot

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pet-genius · 3 years

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The Death Eaters as a Cult - Part 1

This is a very lightly edited old Reddit post, that I'll publish in parts because the whole thing is like 7000 words. Analyzing Voldemort, the DE and their dynamics, Dumbledore and Harry in comparison, and individual Death Eaters. Hope you like it!

Some say Voldemort is a cartoon villain, or wizard Hitler. I think he is very realistic, and that the focus on his political aspirations ignores interesting aspects of him. I cannot prove that JKR had cults in mind when she wrote Voldemort and his followers, but this is how I read them. It’s nearly impossible to define a cult, so, for the purpose hereof, I’m going with “a group dedicated to the worship of a person”. Many cult leaders in real life present themselves merely as “god’s voice” or “the messiah”, but Voldemort specifically didn’t bother to hide behind a power higher than himself.

Tom Riddle comes from humble beginnings, like many cult leaders - he’s raised in an orphanage. He already has delusions of grandeur, only in this case they’re not delusions, because he really is magic, which makes it all the more dangerous. Look how he reacted to discovering he was a wizard, and how Harry did.

Immediately following the revelation that Lily and James did not die in a car crash, and that Harry is famous, and that he survived an attempt at his life by the worst wizard in history:

Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He’d spent his life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard, why hadn’t they been turned into warty toads every time they’d tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he’d once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?

“Hagrid,” he said quietly, “I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t think I can be a wizard.”

Heart-breaking. Harry doesn’t believe he can be special, he blames himself for the way he’s treated.

This is Tom Riddle:

“I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic.”

There was silence. Riddle had frozen, his face expressionless, but his eyes were flickering back and forth between each of Dumbledore’s, as though trying to catch one of them lying. “Magic?” he repeated in a whisper.

“That’s right,” said Dumbledore.

“It’s... it’s magic, what I can do?”

“What is it that you can do?”

“All sorts,” breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. “I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.”

His legs were trembling. He stumbled forward and sat down on the bed again, staring at his hands, his head bowed as though in prayer.

“I knew I was different,” he whispered to his own quivering fingers. “I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something.”

His megalomania and violent nature are already apparent, as is his preternatural control of his magic. It also hints at rudimentary legilimency.

Dumbledore spells out that young Tom Riddle equated magic with immortality and liked to collect trophies, and that Tom Riddle liked being special, as he resents the name Tom for being too common; he already lives behind a mask and only shows his true face in shock. This, and not Dumbledore’s magical prowess, is what always scared Tom. Voldemort knew Dumbledore knew what he was. That was the only tactical advantage Dumbledore had.

It’s also one of JKR’s strokes of brilliance: Dumbledore saw Tom for what Tom was, and others never did until it was too late, not because he was that clever, but because he knew from experience. Dumbledore had allowed himself to fall for a charismatic but heartless man before, and it took Ariana dying to slap him awake. Dumbledore knows good people can be led astray: It happened to him. It has nothing to do with intelligence or “goodness”. Gellert was able to give Albus exactly what Albus lacked, stuck at home taking care of Ariana: the promise of freedom and a bright future, and the companionship of an equal. Albus fell for it, despite warning signs that should have been obvious.

Later, we know Tom is chosen by a wand of yew and phoenix feather. Both yew and phoenix are associated with immortality; yew trees are very long-lived. Compare this to Harry’s wand, holly and phoenix feather: both these characters will experience death and rebirth, except Tom Riddle’s wand tree is yew, and Harry’s is holly.

From Wikipedia: “The Christian church commonly found it expedient to take over existing pre-Christian sacred sites for churches. It has also been suggested that yews were planted at religious sites as their long life was suggestive of eternity, or because, being toxic when ingested, they were seen as trees of death.” Also from Wikipedia: “Christians have identified a wealth of symbolism in the holly tree’s form. The sharpness of the leaves help to recall the crown of thorns worn by Jesus; the red berries serve as a reminder of the drops of blood that were shed for salvation; and the shape of the leaves, which resemble flames, can serve to reveal God's burning love for His people.”

The two orphans’ wildly different views of death are also apparent in their wand trees. Voldemort will murder to attain his goals; Harry will sacrifice himself. That the phoenix feather came from Fawkes is also meaningful - Dumbledore taught both magic in some capacity, but he never could defeat Voldemort, because they’re too alike. One of Harry’s advantages in this battle is the integrity of his soul, which cannot be compromised.

Next, Tom Riddle is sorted into Slytherin. For a child who is already prone to megalomania, the house values bring out the worst in him, and under Slughorn, he grows into a manipulative, cunning, ruthless young man. I’m not blaming Horace for Tom being a psychopath, but some of the particular ways his psychopathy manifested in seem to have been directly due to Slughorn’s influence. Slughorn is a blood-supremacist, who was convinced Tom must come from fine stock. Slughorn tests drinks for poison using house elves; Tom Riddle tests the effectiveness of his Horcrux’s protection on Kreacher. Slughorn emphasizes the importance of connections and outright praises Tom for knowing more than he needs to, and encourages an attitude of “it’s only wrong if you get caught.” But Slughorn, prejudiced and cunning as he is, is not violent - he is academically curious about Horcruxes, but he finds them repugnant. Tom’s heart is not so faint - at the point of asking Slughorn about Horcruxes, the diary is already a horcrux, and Tom has already murdered his father. This is how Dumbledore describes Tom’s original gang, who were the proto-Death Eaters:

As he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends; I call them that, for want of a better term, although as I have already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt no affection for any of them. This group had a kind of dark glamour within the castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. In other words, they were the forerunners of the Death Eaters, and indeed some of them became the first Death Eaters after leaving Hogwarts. Rigidly controlled by Riddle, they were never detected in open wrongdoing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by a number of nasty incidents to which they were never satisfactorily linked, the most serious of which was, of course, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, which resulted in the death of a girl. As you know, Hagrid was wrongly accused of that crime.

Dumbledore explains what motivated people to join Tom: some were afraid, some ambitious, some cruel. He controlled his so-called friends, and already started framing others for his own crimes (Hagrid’s framing was followed by Morfin’s and Hokey the house elf’s).

This is followed by Tom’s attempt to become a teacher (Dumbledore spells out his motivations: He is attached to the school, he wants to study its magic, and he already wants to build himself an army). He is denied, oddly chooses to work for Borgin and Burkes, a choice fueled by the desire to trace down more items to make into Horcruxes. Through the memory of the meeting with Heptzibah Smith, we see that Tom was definitely charming when he needed to be, and knew how to make people feel good. He did not use magic to trick her into showing him her precious locket and cup: he used muggle manipulation - flattery, making an old and forlorn lady feel valuable, perhaps even flirting with her (she’s certainly flirting with him). He was pleasant enough that Ms. Smith eagerly looked forward to his visits - but as she showed him her treasures, he was caught off guard by hearing about his mother and how she sold the locket, and she saw him for what he was, although she quickly fell into denial. Sadly, she was murdered two days later.

Why rely on Horcruxes to gain immortality? Tom must have known about Nicholas Flamel and the Philosopher’s Stone, and the Horcruxes require someone else to perform the resurrection ritual. Either making the Stone is so hard that it would deter Tom (unlikely), or he already expected to rely on followers who would find him and revive him - he certainly seems to have expected his followers to have searched for him earlier. Maybe Horcruxes were appealing because they require murder. In any case, this is followed by the memory of Tom asking Dumbledore for the DADA job again, a decade later. Tom has spent a decade gathering followers, and he has already changed his name to Lord Voldemort. This is reminiscent of real life cult leader David Koresh, and the leaders of the Children of God, Aum Shinrikyo, etc. The meeting between Voldemort and Albus is interesting, because it’s clear that Dumbledore had tried to teach Tom about the power of love:

“The old argument,” he said softly. “But nothing I have seen in the world has supported your famous pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore.”

“Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places,” suggested Dumbledore.

This did not help. Tom never learned - how could he? At 16, he was already a murderer - who could love him now for who he was? He could never be truly loved, and he could never truly love another, and he underestimated the power of love for his entire life, leading to his downfall - twice (were that it was so simple in real life).

Voldemort is trying to obfuscate the nature of the relationship, like all cults - they never admit this is what they are.

“I am glad to hear that you consider them friends,” said Dumbledore. “I was under the impression that they are more in the order of servants.”

“You are mistaken,” said Voldemort.

But LV can’t lie to Dumbledore, who changes the subject. He denies him the DADA job again, and the curse is placed on the job. LV’s ascent is due to begin in a few years. Hagrid tells the story:

Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ’em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ’cause he was gettin’ himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches...

Voldemort isn’t just interested in immortality. He wants complete control. He wants everyone fearing him - even fearing his name. He has people isolated and distrustful, fearing for their lives.

But we know his reign of terror was dreadful - what I’m interested in is the way he treated his own followers. We know little about how he treated them in the first war, but we do have what Sirius had to say about Regulus’s fate:

From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don’t just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It’s a lifetime of service or death.

We know the real story of Regulus’s disappearance, and it’s different. Kreacher tells us that Regulus died in the Horcrux cave - but more telling is that Regulus forbade Kreacher from telling his parents what had happened to him. Why did he feel the need to do that? This suggests that Regulus knew LV destroyed traitors’ families, which is a tactic used in cults and other abusive dynamics. We know LV would leverage Draco’s welfare against Lucius for his failure in the Department of Mysteries, too. We know also that instead of going to Dumbledore, or to his own brother, Regulus chose death – unless he was really dumb, and I don’t think he was, he must have been manipulated into believing that was his only option, or his world made no sense after his faith had shattered. So many people never readjust to life outside the cult.

Voldemort “dies” about two years after that, having successfully recruited about 400 followers (“the death eaters outnumbered us the Order 20:1” - Lupin). We can’t say if all these people were genuine Death Eaters or people who had been Imperiused or otherwise coerced, or allies like Narcissa, but that coercion is used to recruit shows that Voldemort did not take his own followers’ ambitions and wishes into account. People who use outright coercion don't suddenly draw the line at manipulation.

#death eaters #cult #death eater meta #voldemort #voldemort meta #harry potter #meta

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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The Oncoming Storm 01 - The Flood

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Liu Kang x Reader or Kung Lao x Reader

Summary: Reader is a woman in her late 20s who had a peculiar childhood. She worked in her family dojo that was attached to a shop! You wake up in an unfamiliar place, wounded, with a somewhat familiar man. These moments will change your life forever.

A/N: I’ve been a huge Mortal Kombat fan for years and I saw the movie the other day. This reader x fic will follow the path/story/idea of the movies!! I have never done one of these before. If anyone is interested in it, I will continue on. It will either be Kung Lao x Reader or Liu Kang x Reader (or both, depending, bwahaha) but I haven’t decided yet. This is just the beginning. There will be plenty of fluff/establishment/smut if I get that far! Enjoy! Remember this is only for fun. Thanks for reading! Edit- You might notice the writing got better suddenly. I'm going through old chapters to casually edit.

Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Your head was spinning. When you opened your eyes, you briefly caught the outline of a small room before it spun around you. Vertigo. It took ages for your head to stop spinning even in the darkness of your mind’s eye. Something cold and wet was pressed gently to your forehead, applying the slightest bit of pressure. Small droplets of water trickled over your brow, down your nose and irritated your sinuses. Others traced down the sides of your face and nestled into the mat of your dyed black hair. It was naturally stark white but you’d kept up with the black to better blend in.

Shifting, the bed beneath you felt plush and foreign. This was not your bed. Your bed was a modest bedroll that often left your back aching. What had you been doing that you would wake up somewhere strange? Flashes of a fight rushed into your mind. That was right! You’d been closing up shop for the night when men had rushed in, donned masks, and dressed in black. They’d been armed with blades.

You sat upright, fists at the ready and prepared for a fight. Your arms were aching and constricted, bound in tight cloth. Pain radiated down to your elbows and up to your shoulders. Coughing, your mouth tasted like smoke- acrid and sickening. Worse than that, you felt your heart beating too hard and too fast. There was a deep, familiar pain inside of you, a pain you hadn’t felt since your youth. You could picture in your mind’s eye your shop in flames and the dojo attached to it catching fire.

“Move slowly.” A confident but quiet voice consoled you. He was Chinese, like you, and his voice was soft but commanding. “You have a fever.” Careful but strong hands urged you to rest back down. In a snap, you knocked his hands away. He removed them with such grace and control that you knew he was either a dancer or a fighter. You guessed the latter. The room spun again but you forced your vision to focus. “I knew you were a martial artist but I did not know the extent of your skills.”

You caught a glimpse of the stranger. His short black hair was messy and pulled back from his forehead in a top knot. He had handsome features, dark eyes, and he was nostranger. You’d seen him before but today he was not wearing the wide-brimmed hat that you associated him with.

“You’re handy with a blade. I’m impressed.” He complimented. It was likely that he thought you were still threatened by him. Smart. You were. He’d been coming to the shop attached to your dojo every few months for the last couple of years. Each time his purchase was drastically different. Sometimes it was a weapon, sometimes precious stones, or herbs. Most times he came in just to have you sharpen a blade that you never saw him with again. You had allowed him entry to the dojo to watch classes and observe goings on. Sometimes he showed up every day for weeks a time. Sometimes you didn’t see him for months.

He’d been harmless. The only words that he’d ever spoken to you had been kind and reserved.

“Where am I?” You decided that was the right question. You knew who he was and what had happened for the most part. It was the ‘where’ that puzzled you.

“Do you remember what happened?”

You threw him a glance with dark eyes and he offered a smile that clearly said you wouldn’t get any answers from him until you gave yours. He was worried that your memory had suffered. The dizziness made sense now. You must have struck your head.

“It was late. I was cleaning up the shop before close when a group of men entered. They were trouble, treating wares carelessly. I asked them to leave since I was closing up. They donned masks and things escalated.” Things had more than escalated but it seemed to you that this stranger already knew many of the details of what had occurred without you saying. The men had threatened you with drawn blades and made demands involving you and your dojo that you had refused to bow to. “I had no choice but to defend myself.”

“You killed them.” It wasn’t an accusation. He just understood how your story ended.

“They left me with no choice. I didn’t ask for violence.” You turned your gaze. The room had finally stopped spinning but in a word, you felt like crap. Coughing, you recalled the fire and snapped your attention back to the friendly stranger. “My shop… the dojo!”

“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head respectfully. “The fire spread too quickly. There was nothing to be done.”

“I have to go. I…”

“You can’t go back.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t go back. Hanging your head, you resigned to the truth. He was right. You knew it. “I suppose not. I killed those men. I’m a murderer.”

“Those men were cruel and deserved the punishment you dealt them. As far as I’m concerned your action were justified.”

Your brow furrowed. He so easily absolved you of taking the lives of others. You didn’t think the guilt would fade so easily but now was not the time to dwell on it.

“How long have you had the dragon mark?” That was what he really wanted to discuss. His eyes sparkled even in the darkness of the small room- a still completely foreign and strange place. He’d offered you no answers even after you’d given him his.

“Dragon mark?” You didn’t have one as far as you knew. You’d seen others with a dragon marking but had never asked what it meant or why it had been there. You’d once asked your sister about it but she had never noticed the mark on anyone before. Then you’d never spoken of it again. You’d seen things that others could not in your youth and were nervous about bringing things like that up.

“On your back.”

You turned with a snap but it had been foolish. There was no way for you to see it at that angle. Pain shot through you as you searched for it with your left hand. Your forearms had been wrapped tightly but blood was seeping through the gauze, staining it crimson.

“Careful. You were wounded when you offered those men mercy.”

Much to your surprise, he took your hand in his own, the size of his strong hands dwarfing your petite ones. Then he guided your hand carefully to the mark on your lower back. There it was, plain as day. Raised skin in a circle with a dragon head in the middle. It was like a scar, as though you had been branded with it some time ago. Yet, you knew that it hadn’t been there that morning when you’d bathed.

“That’s… new to me.” You didn’t know how else to phrase it and laughed beneath your breath at how silly it sounded not to know it had been there.

“Do you know about the Order of Light?” He was feeling you out, gauging what you knew.

You were hesitant to answer, nervous that what you knew would get you into trouble. When most people entered your shop, they spoke amongst themselves. You learned many secrets that way. You were usually paid little mind unless you were teaching classes or fighting. You’d heard of the Order of Light before. Your curiosity had given you much more than you’d bargained for. You’d learned of other realms, Gods, magic powers. They were the sorts of things you’d read about in fiction. You’d never thought there was much truth to them but part of you had always hoped there was.

“Why do you know so much about what happened to me?” You answered his question with one of your own. It was about time that you got answers instead of just giving them.

“I heard the commotion at your shop. I came to help.” It was his turn to hesitate. “I confess that I’m fond of your dojo. It’s a peaceful reprieve for me. You bring light to a place that has very little.” He bowed his head apologetically, handsome face stern. “It was too late for me to do much but I saw the end of your fight. It was a graceful dance. You offered them mercy and were punished for your kindness. Then the building caught fire. You won the battle but it collapsed with you still inside. I pulled you free before it was too late.”

Funny.

You hadn’t noticed any burns. You remembered fire. You could feel the smoke still in your lungs but the only wounds you remembered suffering were those on your arms and the back of your head. They had to have been terrible. The cold you’d noticed upon waking up had only worsened and now your vision was spotty and hazy around the edges.

“When the authorities came to deal with the fire, I brought you somewhere safe. I didn’t wish for you to be caught.” He lifted his gaze and placed his fist against his palm with a polite bow. “I’m Kung Lao. Forgive my rudeness for not introducing myself earlier.”

You laughed.

There was no way!

You hadn’t heard that name in years. He was confused by your laughter and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I haven’t heard that name in ages. It’s not a common one either. You can’t be Kung Lao.”

“…but I am.”

“The only Kung Lao I’ve ever known died years ago.”

“That’s what was told to people when I left.” Kung Lao’s eyes were shining with amusement. The flicker of the candle resting on the small table next to the bed you rested in danced in his dark eyes. “Do we know each other?”

“If you are, in fact, the same Kung Lao who grew up here then yes, we did. I’m Y/N but I used to go by Y/N.” You hadn’t used your full name in years. It had rarely been used other than to tease you so you’d shortened it. Back then you’d been ill and the other kids had been afraid of you. “Kung Lao was my friend. A stubborn but sweet boy. We played together. He was one of the only people in town not afraid of me. Teased me which… made me angrier than it should have but he was apologetic afterward. The last time I saw him he gave me a purple flower. They don’t grow here anymore. I honestly have no idea where he got it. I could never find them again.”

Kung Lao was completely taken aback.

You supposed you could see the similarities. He could have been your Kung Lao all grown up, about twenty years later. He had similarly shaped eyes. Perhaps the familiarity of him had been why you’d trusted him to sit in on lessons. The idea that he was the same Kung Lao from your childhood made your stomach tighten up in knots. That was too much to deal with right now.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft and thoughtful as if he struggled to find truth in your words.

You bowed your head politely in greeting but it ached so terribly that you held it in your hands. Every movement felt like ice flowing through your veins. When you opened your eyes again your vision went from spotty to completely black. You’d gone blind! Panic raced through your thoughts and you blinked your eyes closed tight. Praying, you opened them again and were grateful that you could see even if your vision was still spotty. The room seemed hazier than before.

“Careful. Lay back and rest.” Kung Lao placed his hand on your shoulder to guide you but you pushed it away again.

“No, no. I should get something to eat. And some water. That will help.” You were sure that your vision was fading from blood loss or exhaustion. Either way food would help. You carefully draped your legs over the side of the bed. Your clothing was singed and bloodied. Gravity disagreed with your arms and your aching head, so you wound up hunching over. Kung Lao helped you sit upright again.

“Your fever is too high. What you need is a doctor.”

“You asked me about the Order of Light.” You ignored his concern in favor of more answers.

“Yes.”

“Then you know about the other realms, too? Is it true?”

Kung Lao was again taken by surprise and stuttered on his words comically.

“I must sound crazy. A man in a coolie hat, well the fanciest one that I’ve ever seen before, came in a few times over the years. I always thought he seemed a little funny. He referred to China as Earthrealm and mentioned the Order of Light in passing. I was curious as to what any of that meant and well, the internet is a fount of information, even for things like that. Most of what I read was on forums and conspiracy sites so I put next to no stake in it. Is any of it true?”

“I’m not the one who should be telling you this.”

“Kung Lao.” You scolded which incited a confident grin from him.

“Have you heard of Mortal Kombat then as well?”

You considered those words. You’d never heard them before so you shook your head no. At least you hadn’t heard them the way that he’d phrased them, as though it were something associated with the Order of Light.

“The mark on your back means that you’ve been chosen to fight.” Kung Lao began on what you were sure would be a lengthy explanation of what would come next but you had tuned him out. Your vision was blurring again. It faded around the edges and the world spun. You felt like you were floating.

“Kung Lao?” You interrupted, grasping blindly for him but your hands had gone numb. There was urgency in your voice.

“It’s okay. I’ll take you to Raiden’s Temple and there you’ll be guided through…”

“Not that. I can’t… I can’t see!” Panic was thick in your voice. Your breath was suddenly short in your chest and you collapsed against him, falling into unconsciousness.

Next Chapter >>

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

A Little Braver - Chapter 12

Here we go. As promised i did not keep you waiting too long and chapter 12 has finally landed by gentle concession of Whitethorn airlines.

Be ready for angst, fluff and our Rowan in full fuss mode. I swear the man invented fussing. Also, our Iceman this time loses it. Even Fenrys is shocked by how much.

EDIt: forgot to say ATC is Air Traffic Control.

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Rowan had finished his class and went back to his office. He had given those spoiled brats a very intense training and he had taught them how a real pilot flew and was quite satisfied of his level of evilness.

He sat at his desk, grabbed his phone and noticed a text from Aelin and a smile tugged at his lips.

Not even two hours back. Crash at the airport. I guess those civilian pilots are as bad as you claim.

He laughed to start with but then terror took him. He switched on the computer and tried to find some news about Orynth. He found a newspaper and read the breaking news. There was a video taken by probably some reporters on an helicopter and he almost fell sick at the images. The article mentioned two aircrafts but he could see only one. He had a bad feeling of what could have happened. The crew zoomed in and he spotted Aelin’s engines but he could not tell apart who was on the ground. Then he saw it. The collapse. A cloud of dust and fire lifted in the sky and he hoped that none of the guys were inside.

His heart raced and pure undiluted terror as he never felt, spread through him.

Once inside Aedion had to navigate through debris and remains of the collapsed structure. The dust raised by the collapse had somehow reduced the fire and he could see around him.

“Aelin,” he called out. He walked and walked and he knew he was getting further and further from the entrance.

“Aelin… answer me, damn it.” He shouted over the silence. A few electric cables flew over him and he ducked just in time to avoid electrocution.

Then he heard it. Her PASS alarm. The one that activated when it did not sense motion for a certain amount of time. He hated that sound because it meant that one of them was in danger.

Eventually he saw her body and flames too close for comfort.

“Chief, lieutenant. I have her. Have EMTs on standby.” he shouted over the radio.

“Lieutenant, Chief, we have two water lines coming in now.”

He ran to her and fell to his knees working to clear the debris from on top of her and once free he rolled her over and noticed she was not breathing and not wearing her mask which lay abandoned at her side. His finger went to her neck and found a pulse albeit weak “She is not breathing, I need the medical team inside. Now.” He shouted over the radio with panic thick in his voice.

He gave her a few rescue breaths “please… please… don’t do this to me. Please, Aelin.”

He put his mask on her face, trying to pass some oxygen to her.

Voices broke the silence but he was too busy helping Aelin to bother to look who it was.

In a moment the rest of the team had followed inside and they were putting off the remaining fire around them, allowing the medical team to do their jobs safely.

Lysandra was on her knees in an instant. Elide was at his side and Dorian was towering over them he was the one who had taken the two women inside.

“She is not breathing and her pulse is weak.” Said Aedion, his voice cracking “Help her, please.”

Lysandra did some checks with experienced efficiency.

“I need to intubate her, Aedion remove the mask when I tell you so.”

Lysandra got ready with all her gear “now.”

With the skills of someone who had done it a million times she intubated Aelin very quickly and Elide started to press the balloon to send air in her lungs and oxygen to her body. Lysandra did a quick check and noticed her right arm bore some bad burn marks. She wrapped the wound as best as she could with temporary bandages.

“Dorian, pass me the backboard.”

Within minutes Aelin was loaded on the board and carried outside. The remaining team stopped, staring at their captain unconscious.

Rowan was following the livestream of the accident when he noticed Dorian’s holding a board with someone on and on the other side a tall blonde man: Aedion. He looked a bit better and his heart sank. His eyes recognised the body on the gurney. Her blonde hair, her long braid.

All of a sudden he forgot how to breath. He just stood there watching as the gurney that carried her was lifted into the ambulance. Aedion jumped in as well and he saw Lysandra and Elide climb in the ambulance and drive away with crazy speed and sirens wailing.

He stood slowly, as in a daze, grabbed his stuff and left. He went home, packed all his belongings and drove back to the base. As quickly as possible he filed a flight plan and not long after he was in the air. He would explain everything to the school commandant but he had to go. He had to be with her.

The flight back to Orynth seemed to last forever. He swore loudly when on approach to Orynth he was told that the airspace above the city was closed. He was furious, the airbase was so far away from the airport that it was stupid.

“Orynth main, Typhoon FF9762, I am requesting clearance for landing at the airbase, not at your stupid airport. So you let me land this plane or when I ran low on fuel I will land in the middle of the motorway and then you can deal with that.”

A moment later he got clearance for landing and when his landing gear touched down on the runaway he quickly taxied inside the hangar.

When he opened the canopy, Lorcan was there waiting for him “don’t. I don’t fucking care about the school or anything else right now.” He grabbed his bag and quickly told his engineer to perform his post flight checks. It was totally against the rules but he had no time to lose.

“Elide texted me. They took her to Orynth general. It was the closest one. She says it’s bad.”

Rowan ran out of the hangar and to his car not even bothering to change out of his jump suit, threw his stuff in the back seat and drove like a madman to the hospital. Once inside the A&E he spotted some familiar faces. Her squad was all there, waiting for an update. Rowan stopped. Then his gaze crossed Aedion’s. The man walked to him and Rowan was sure he had been crying.

“How is she? Where is she?” His voice was shaky.

“We don’t know. They took her in urgently. When I found her, she was not breathing and her oxygen tank was dead. She was unconscious when we brought her in, and with some horrible burns on her right arm.”

Rowan sat down heavily on a chair, his hands shaking visibly. They had just found each other. He could not lose her.

“I thought you were in Doranelle.” Aedion’s voice was flat and his eyes fixed on the doors where they had taken Aelin.

“Aelin sent me a text saying you guys had a call at the airport.” His hand ran nervously through his short hair “then I checked the news and there was a livestream of the accident. And I saw it. All. And when I saw you and Dorian carrying her out… I left everything and flew here with my jet. Bloody ATC almost prevented me from landing.”

“This is always the worst part.” Said Aedion sitting beside Rowan “the waiting.”

The whole group remained in silence and Rowan did the same until a doctor went to them and Aedion stood, followed by Dorian.

“I have an update on the captain. Her condition is critical. She suffered serious internal injuries from the collapse and they are being treated now. Her right arm has some severe burns and again they are now being treated to avoid infection. Her oxygen levels are still below the normal parameters. During surgery she has coded twice, but we got her back. As soon as the team is done with her we will move her to the ICU. We need to keep her under strict control. She could still develop acute respiratory syndrome. She will stay intubated and heavily sedated.” Then the doctor turned to Aedion “I will let you know when you can see her.” And with that he walked away.

“Everyone, return to the station. We are still on duty.” Aedion ordered his men. They gave him a hug and asked to keep them posted. He knew that it had been very hard for them to obey him. They all wanted to be there for her but slowly they filed out leaving him alone with Rowan.

Dorian patted his shoulder “I will stay with them at the station.” And he left with the rest of the squad.

“The scene at the airport seemed terrifying.”

“It was,” said Aedion in a flat tone “the small plane got reduced to smithereens. How the fuck that happened?”

Rowan sighed, he had an idea “possibly a mistake by ATC. They probably directed the smaller aircraft on the wrong runaway and the big plane landed and just crashed on it, then lost control, probably lost its landing gear and just slammed into the hangar bay.”

“How do you know?”

“Watching the live of the news. You could see that the bigger aircraft was on a landing trajectory from its heading. Also, it was on the runaway that Orynth airport uses for landing. The smaller craft was totally in the wrong runaway.”

“Well, it was a mess.”

“Did you manage to save anyone?”

Aedion nodded “all the people in the big aircraft. As soon as we arrived Aelin told us to keep an eye on the wings for fuel. The aircraft exploded but not before we managed to evacuate the passengers. Manon and Asterin saved two of the civilians by hiding in the cockpit.” He sighed “Aelin saved four.”

Rowan chuckled “she took two of my books one on flight theory and the one on airplanes in general.”

“That is why she knew about fuel being in the wings.”

Rowan nodded with pride “Aelin and I… we are working on things. On us. I…” he lowered his head “I care about her… a lot.”

Aedion leaned back on the chair and removed his fire jacket, remaining in his t-shirt “she can be difficult and believe me there is no one but me who knows just how much. I grew up with her. She is my cousin after all, but I always loved her like a sister. But Aelin has the bad habit of saying what she thinks and we had so many fights because of that. She can be a brat, but together with Lys they are the two most important women in my life.”

Rowan smiled briefly at Aedion’s description of Aelin. It was perfect.

“I proposed to Lys.” Confessed the blonde man.

Rowan slapped him hard on the shoulder “that is an incredible news. Congratulation, man.”

“I thought it was time. Lys and I have been together for three years and I love her.”

Rowan was about to add something when they saw the doctor approach them.

“Aedion, you can see her now.” The man stood and gestured to Rowan to follow him.

“Family only.” Said the doctor when he noticed Rowan stand.

“He is coming as well, Sorscha. And if anyone has any problems, they can take it up with me.”

The woman lifted her hands in yielding gesture “She is on the sixth floor in the ICU, room 46.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you all this friendly with doctors?”

“We visit hospitals a lot.” He added sadly.

Aedion walked to the stairs and Rowan chuckled “not you too…”

“What?”

“What’s with you guys and lifts?”

Aedion laughed “you posh boy can take the metal trap. I am walking.”

Rowan huffed and followed Aedion up the stairs. He was not letting an army guy beat him. He had pride.

Rowan pushed to keep up with Aedion and by the time they reached the sixth floor his legs were killing him, the man in front of him had kept a brutal pace, probably on purpose.

In silence they reached the room and Rowan pulled aside “you go in first, you are family.”

Aedion nodded and Rowan sat down on the chairs outside the room. Thing was… he needed time. He was scared of what he would see on the other side of the door. He was terrified. She was the one with the scary job. He was the one who knew how to fly away from danger and avoid being shot out of the sky. She, on the other hand, she would willingly face a fire to save people. Getting involved with her meant going through the hell he was living now. He fought it for as long as he could. But somehow along the way he had fallen for her pretty badly. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

Much later on he felt a hand on his shoulder “you can go in now.”

Rowan turned his head to the door and his heart sank. Then he stood and mustered all the courage he had to open the door and step in.

The room was silent apart from the steady beeping sounds of the machines monitoring her heartbeat and the hush sound of the ventilator pumping air in her lungs. He froze and closed the door behind him. He stared at her immobile body. With all the cables and tubes and machinery, she seemed so small in the hospital bed.

He finally took a step closer and sat down on the chair beside her.

“Hi,” his voice broken as he felt tears streak down his cheek. Gently he brushed the tip of the fingers on her right hand and noticed the heavy bandaging on the whole arm.

“You scared the shit out of me.” He whispered, his head leaning on the bed near her hand “A part of me wants to bolt because I am not sure I can take it. But the other side tells me not to. Tells me that the recklessness, you fierceness and bravery are why I am so damn crazy about you.” He stood and paced back and forth “the idea of losing you paralyses me with fear.” He took a step backward with fear gripping his heart “I can’t do this. I am so sorry. I just can’t.”

He ran out of the door but Aedion blocked him “that was quick.”

“I can’t…”

Aedion’s face morphed into pure rage and grabbed Rowan’s jump suit by the collar “oh yes you can. I told you before, posh boy. You break her heart and I break you.”

Rowan collapsed exhausted on the chair and took his head in his hands “I can’t… I can’t go through that hell a second time.”

“What to you mean?” Asked the blonde man.

Rowan looked up and met Aedion’s eyes. So much like Aelin’s. They could have easily been twins.

“The pain…” he paused “I can’t deal with that pain again. Losing Aelin would break me definitely. And at the same time I can’t leave her for the same reason. I need her in my life. She might be infuriating but at the same time I am mad about her.”

“Then you have your answer.” Said Aedion flatly.

Rowan stood and Aedion placed his body in front of him.

“I am not bolting. I need to go home, shower, clear my head and I will be back.”

“You bolt, and I will find you.”

Rowan raised his hands and walked away in silence.

He got home, dumped his bag near the bed and shed his clothes on his way to the bathroom. Opened the water and dove under the jet, the water hot to the point of being painful. He stood there. Eyes closed and head bowed. Realising that the water would not be able to wash away the shame of him almost walking out on her like a coward. Again. He was not as brave as he thought. When it came to his feelings he was a disaster. But there was deep terror in him, to a level that he never experienced not even with a missile trained on him. He had almost lost her and at the thought he struggled to breath for a moment. He leaned against the wall and allowed the tears to flow, he allowed himself to cry and let his fears go for a moment. He could not believe that in a matter of few months she had become so important that the thought of losing her would break him this much. He breathed deeply and tried to regain some focus.

Quickly, he washed himself and then walked out with a towel around his waist and padded to the bed to grab his phone. He called the commandant of the school in Doranelle and explained him what happened, why he had to leave all of a sudden and most of all why he was not going back. The man was not happy and he was going to catch hell from Lorcan as well but he did not care. He had given up too much of his life to the force. Now it was his turn to be selfish and put his life before duty.

As expected Lorcan called him not long after and he was now on his way to see his CO in nothing but jeans, a polo shirt and a black leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses. If he had to piss off Lorcan better do it properly.

He knocked once in front of his door and the grumpy tone of the man of the other side told him to enter. He saluted lazily and definitely did not miss Lorcan’s stare of disapproval at him appearing in front of his CO in civilian clothes.

“You seem to have misplaced your uniform.”

“No sir, definitely at home in my wardrobe.”

Lorcan growled his disapproval “I got an interesting call from the commandant of the school in Doranelle. He says that you resigned your post. That you have no intention of going back.”

“That is correct,” and Rowan sat down although Lorcan did not give him permission to do so.

Lorcan threw a folder on his desk “and I got a complaint from ATC saying that you breached airspace lockdown last night and threatened to land on a motorway if they didn’t let you land.”

“That was bullshit on their part. The airbase is on the opposite side of the city compared to the airport. There was no risk for me to get anywhere close to the airport. They were aware of my flight plan and my heading. It was total bullshit.”

“Well, now I have to deal with an irate traffic control supervisor and an outraged commandant at a school with which we have been cooperating for years.”

Rowan shrugged in challenge “not my problem.”

“No Whitethorn, you are the fucking problem.”

“Then suspend me, like I give a fuck.” Rowan leaned back in the chair and stared outside ignoring Lorcan’s tantrum.

“You broke aviation rules with that stunt of yours last night and before that you put your personal life before duty.”

Rowan bolted on his feet “I am so fucking tired of sacrificing my life for duty. I did it so much that when my wife died I was on the other side of the continent and I was given a couple of days of leave to go to her funeral and then was ordered to haul ass back to my post as if nothing happened and like the good obedient soldier I was, I even thanked you all for giving me two days to mourn.” He shouted, not caring if he was being disrespectful to a superior “I gave the airforce twelve years of my life, no questions asked. And all of a sudden I am not sure if I want to keep doing it.”

“Is she really worth it? Is that woman really worth giving up on your career?”

Rowan moved dangerously close and leaned on the desk with his hands “she is worth more that you cold-hearted bastard can ever imagine.”

Lorcan stood “get your arse out of my office, captain Whitethorn. You are suspended for a month.”

“Good.” Said Rowan and walked out slamming the door not bothering saluting Lorcan or add anything.

On his way out he met his squadron “what are you doing back in Orynth?” Asked Gavriel surprised.

“Getting my arse suspended for a month apparently.”

“What the fuck?” Fenrys stared at him in disbelief. That was something that he would do. He could not believe that Lorcan had just suspended Rowan. The man was a stickler for protocol and rules to a fault.

“Broke aviation rules last night by landing during an airspace lockdown. Ticked off ATC big time. And before that I left my post in Doranelle without telling anything to anyone.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Iceman?” Asked Connall.

“Aelin.” Was his answer “she was at the disaster at the airport last night. She is in bad condition. I had to come back.” He sighed “then Lorcan gave me a dressing down for putting a woman before duty and I might have pissed him off to historical levels. I would stay clear of him today.”

“And he suspended you.”

“Yes,” confirmed Rowan and the rest of the team almost noticed relief in his eyes.

“But you are coming back, right?” Rowan noticed sadness in Gavriel’s eyes. The two had been friends for a long time. And although he could not care less about Lorcan, he felt as if he was betraying his team mates.

“I don’t know… I might.” He said not convinced “A month away might do me well. I am not sure right now.”

“How’s Aelin?” Vaughan had the guts to ask the question no one could voice.

Rowan’s hands fisted “she is in bad shape. Intubated and sedated. When Aedion found her she was not breathing. She has bad burn on her right arm and plenty of other injuries. She was buried under the collapse of the hangar after she tried to save some people trapped inside.”

“Damn, the woman is badass.” Fenrys patted Rowan’s shoulder “when you go to the hospital, tell her that we are rooting for her too.”

He covered the young man’s hand with his “will do.” Then he straightened “now I better go, before Lorcan comes through and punishes all of you just for speaking with me.”

“Keep in touch, please,” added Gavriel.

Rowan winked and left and once he finally stepped outside of the perimeter of the airbase his soul felt lighter.

He reached the hospital not long after and found her room empty, her team was probably at work and he was glad he could have some time with her.

“Hi menace,” Rowan sat down and brushed a kiss on her forehead “are you enjoying your nap?” His finger gently flicked her nose and he sat back down “I got suspended for a month… I guess I broke a few rules to be with you.” His finger brushed hers emerging from the heavy bandage “and I epically ticked off a few people, but it was so worth it.” He squeezed her fingers “you are totally worth it.” He then stood and started walking around the room making adjustments. He fixed the blinds so there was some sun in the room, he tucked her properly in bed, almost afraid she could be cold. He fixed the flowers on her nightstand and made sure they had water. And finally he sat down on her bed and slowly undid her braid, brushed her hair and braided it again.

“I am sorry I left this morning, I… was overwhelmed.” He sat back down on the chair “I am not leaving. Not unless you want me to.” He grabbed her hand again but then he heard the door open and he sat straight.

“Hi,” said Lysandra and Elide in unison.

“We just dropped off some patients and we came in to see her.”

Rowan stood and with his hand he offered his spot to the two women.

“I thought you were away.” Said Lysandra, walking close to her friend and depositing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I was, and then I saw the disaster and I flew back and got myself suspended for it, but I don’t care.”

Lysandra was about to comment but he stopped her “I had to be here for her. I have no regrets.” His head then turned to Elide “you might want to stay clear of Lorcan for a few days. I ticked him off big time and the man might be a bit furious at the time.”

“Oh, okay,” the woman said timidly.

“I am sure that one of your smile will fix the mood of that poor old bastard.” Lysandra’s comment made him laugh.

“She just went in…” Lysandra’s voice was now a whisper and she sniffled turning her back from the other two occupants “she always does this type of crazy thing. Dorian was furious.”

A memory appeared in Rowan’s mind and his words were out before he could stop them “are they involved?”

He heard the woman chuckle “No. Dorian is in love with her and that is no secret. He was her captain when she was at west. But she always saw him as nothing but a friend. Also he is the chief and she a captain, so nothing can happen. They are really good friends, but no, nothing ever happened.”

A selfish part of him relaxed.

Lysandra’s radio went off and she groaned “come on Elide, back to work.”

Rowan waved them goodbye and went back to his chair.

***

Ten days had passed and the season had slowly turned and spring was now in full force.

Rowan was standing at the hospital window, looking outside towards the Staghorn mountains. The tops had officially lost their snow. He inhaled the fresh air and closed the window again. That room had become his new home in the past ten days. He had left only to go home and get changed and washed, but apart from that he had kept a tight vigil on her. They guys at the station had to work and he had been more than happy to keep her company. He was out of a job for the time being, anyway. He turned around and walked to the bed. Nothing had changed. She was still intubated and still unconscious. The doctor had raised concerns with regards to the damage her lungs had suffered and a neurologist had confirmed that her responses were within normal parameters and that they were expecting her to wake up soon. In the last few days they had noticed an increased cerebral activity which according to the doctors was a good sign. He sat down again beside her and went back to the book he had been reading to her. As a joke between the two of them he had started reading flight manuals, or any of any of his books about flying. He had read her other books as well and all the possible articles about their amazing rescue at the airport. Rowan had spent so much time at the hospital that all the nurses knew him and helped him every time he had a request for them to make her more comfortable. He had brought more comfortable pillows, had decorated the wall of her room with all the cards she got from the different fire stations and from west, together with the ones of the four people she save in the hangar. With his mobile he had played classical music for her and a few times he had played an opera as well and joked that they finally got that date after all. His past ten days had been dedicated to nothing else but her. He was humming away a tune from the last opera he had played, while tucking her bed sheets properly when he brushed her hand and felt it move. It was a subtle movement but he felt it. Rowan kept humming and this time the motion was much clearer.

“Aelin…” her middle finger lifted by a fraction and Rowan laughed.

“Are you giving me the middle finger even when you sleep? You are such a brat.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead “Can you hear me?” He whispered near her ear.

His gaze returned to her hand and this time he noticed her clearly trying to bend her fingers.

Rowan sat down beside her and stroked her cheek once more “Aelin… it’s me.”

A tiny flutter of her eyelashes had his heart race madly in his chest. And when her blue eyes finally set on him he gave her a big smile “it was abut time, there was no need to get into a fire and almost get yourself killed if you needed a nap.”

Aelin groaned and he noticed the middle finger in her left hand rise sightly. Rowan roared in laughter. Then she lifted the same hand and went for the tube in her mouth.

“Hold on, you are still intubated. Let me go and call the doctor.” He disappeared outside of the room and came back with her doctor a moment later. He extubated her and the procedure looked very unpleasant. Aelin coughed heavily but the doctor reassured him it was normal and then left the two alone.

Rowan grabbed a glass of water on the nightstand and helped her. He lifted her a bit and pressed the glass against her lips “drink a little.”

She drank eagerly and then collapsed back on the pillow exhausted. Rowan sat at her left side and brushed her head gently with his hand “are you in pain?”

With a small movement she shook her head. Rowan looked at the bags with liquids hanging behind her and noticed they still had plenty of stuff in them. She was hooked on painkillers and antibiotics and had a feeding tube down her nose.

“You… here.” She managed with difficulty. Although she was breathing on her own the doctor had warned him that some issues might take longer to heal. The smoke and the fuel fumes had battered her lungs pretty badly and that it was why after extubation, the doctor had placed small oxygen tubes in her nose.

“That I am.” he took her hand in his “after your text complaining about civilian pilots I had a look at the news and they were showing the inferno at the airport.” He stopped, he would never forget that horrible scene “when I saw Dorian and Aedion carrying you out I realised I could not stay there any longer. Long story short, I broke a few rules, pissed off a few people and got suspended, but I am where I am meant to be.”

“Suspended?”

Rowan nodded solemnly “Turns out that even if he has a girlfriend, Lorcan is still a cold-hearted bastard. I have no regrets.”

Aelin sighed and her breath came out ragged “squad.”

“They are all fine and they miss you. Aedion has been playing captain and he hates it and Dorian has been helping a lot as well. They are on shift now but they came and visit a lot.”

She was about to say something else but a brutal cough hit her and she was left exhausted and wheezing and he pulled her to him. It destroyed him seeing her like that.

He shifted the pillows behind her and allowed Aelin to be in a semi sit position, hoping that would make breathing much easier than lying down. He sat beside her, pulled an arm around her shoulder and dragged her closer to him “Aedion proposed to Lys.”

“Know.”

“There is no pleasing you, young lady. I assume Lys has told you.”

Aelin smiled at him and nodded.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and when he removed it he realised it was Lorcan. The man had tried to phone him all morning but he had refused every single call.

Rowan sighed heavily and Aelin looked up at him with a worried expression.

“I almost resigned.” His forehead touching hers “then I didn’t because of duty and all that shit. When they carried you out I lost it. Nothing else mattered but being here for you. Screw rules and regulations.”

She turned her head and deposited a kiss on his lips “thank you for being here.” She managed with great difficulty.

***

With spring in full swing, Orynth was covered in colours from flowers all around the city. The air smelled sweet and warm.

Aelin inhaled the fresh air and after almost a month in the hospital she felt alive again. Rowan lifted her in his arms and slowly carried her to her house. Her legs were still shaky and she was still weak. Her recovery was taking longer than expected. The doctors had put her through a respiratory therapy, but at times she still felt short of breath. Rowan dropped her off on the sofa and went to get their stuff. He had made a deal with her and he would stay with her until she was better. He still had four days before his suspension was over. He had been at her side since she woke up and the nurses had told her that even when she was still unconscious, Rowan had barely left her side.

Her mind went back to when he told her he could be very caring for the people he loved and he had showed her that over and over again.

“Here we go.” He dumped all the bags in the living room and then went to the bedroom and Aelin had a feeling he was preparing so that it was up to his standards.

“The bed is ready, your highness.”

He fussed. He fussed a lot but she realised she had started to love that side of him.

“Does it meet your standards, captain?”

He grinned “I don’t think is grandiose enough.”

“I will make sure I’ll upgrade my living standards to accommodate a posh boy like yourself. I doubt an army guy will fuss. Aedion never did.”

“They have no standards to begin with.”

Aelin threw a pillow at him but Rowan ducked in time and an instant later she was in the air and he dumped her on the bed with little ceremony.

He leaned forward and kissed her “now get changed,” he ordered and threw her her bed clothes.

“Yes, sir. At your orders sir,” she mocked him with a funny salute.

He shook his head “you civilians really have no respect for rank.”

She stood on her knees in bed and shed the top she was wearing and removed her bra as well, remaining bare.

He was busy emptying her bag that when he turned and saw her semi naked he almost tripped on the dropped top.

“My girls here feel lonely,” she palmed her breasts in a very sensual way

Rowan ignored her and passed her the pyjama top “It seems like you are doing a good job at keeping them busy.”

She slapped him with her t-shirt and got dressed again “I’d better get covered again, I don’t want to traumatise you.” She was about to add something else but a fit of coughing stopped her. Rowan was at her side in a moment and held her, knowing that it would usually leave her spent. The fits had become less frequent as she improved but the occasional one was enough to leave her breathless and this one seemed to be one of those. She grabbed his arm and squeezed it “hurts,”Aelin complained fisting her hand in his chest while concentrating on breathing. Rowan grabbed the inhaler she had been prescribed to use during an attack. She did as she had been shown by the doctors and then melted in his arms.

“Lie down.”

“Open…” she started but the coughing resumed and her hand fisted in the bed sheets this time. She grabbed the inhaler and breathed its medicines again, feeling air rushing back in her lungs. Eventually she collapsed in bed exhausted “Window…” she finally finished.

Rowan moved with speed and did as told. Aelin loved the spring air and even at the hospital she often asked him for the window to be open. It made her feel as if she could breath.

He moved her to the centre of the bed and covered with the blankets “do you feel like eating something?”

“No,” she said weakly and he knew she was not well. In the short time he had known her, Aelin had never refused a meal “Sleep,” his hand brushed her hair and she was asleep within minutes.

Once he was positive she was asleep he walked out and gently closed the door and went to the kitchen to make a phone call. Lorcan had been pestering him almost every day but Rowan had ignored him.

“The dutiful captain finally decides to phone back, or should I call you nurse Whitethorn now?”

Rowan growled and almost closed the call again, then decided to count till ten and listen what he had to say.

“Say your piece Salvaterre and let me go.”

“I want you to march back through these doors in four days.”

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he leave her alone?

“A please from time to time doesn’t hurt.”

“Whitethorn, I don’t give a fuck if your firefighter woman made you a well mannered soldier. I am your superior and if I give you an order I expect you to answer with yes, sir. Another peep from you and you get your arse written up for insubordination and you can kiss your career goodbye.”

Rowan had to punch something, but a loud noise could wake up Aelin and he wanted to avoid that. So he just hung up the phone without giving Lorcan a reply then he grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. Once he was done he grabbed his laptop from his bag and set in motion his next plan.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp

@jlinez

@swankii-art-teacher

@courtofjurdan

@whimsicallyreading

@tillyrubes10

#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #aedion x lysandra #fanfic #Throne of Glass series

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so-writing · 3 years

Text

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (7)

all parts in the master list

Minimal editing. Also hit me with some predictions for the end of this and also any thoughts at all about it. Is it trash, is it good? I am curious about what you think!

Matthew didn’t usually drink much during their time away from home. If the Flames won, he’d usually have a beer or two to celebrate and that was it. This past week had him consuming more alcohol than he had in a long time and he had no idea why.

The roommate situation put him on edge the moment he found out who he was going to be staying with and his mood soured even more when he discovered they’d have to share a bed so maybe that was why he was taking shots and downing beers like he was on summer vacation.

He remembered bits and pieces of the previous night: she kissed him and then disappeared, he continued to take shots long after she’d gone, they had a conversation about moms in their hotel room.

That was it though. He had no recollection of changing into his pajamas and crawling into bed. When his alarm went off, he woke up in bed alone and as he surveyed the room, he realized all her stuff was gone.

Sure, they were going home today but damn, she must have really wanted to get the fuck away from him. He wasn’t ready to acknowledge that it might have hurt his feelings a little bit so he pushed the thought away and began to get ready for the day.

The feeling of peace you got when you quietly closed the door behind you and wheeled your luggage away from the room you shared with Matthew Tkachuk was incredible.

The past week had been a roller coaster that you were dying to get off of and all you had to do was get through this last game and the bus ride home. That would be easy though, you’d have no interaction with Matthew during the game and you knew damn well he would rather cling to the top of the escape hatch on the bus rather than sit next to you.

It was finally over. Your mouth was practically watering at the thought of sitting down in your apartment, by yourself, with a bottle of wine, Netflix and Chinese takeout.

You watched as the Flames won the game and as much as you didn’t want to notice it, you did. Matthew was playing like shit, barely dragging himself around the ice as he tried to keep up with his teammates. His personal play was entirely unremarkable and you were sure he was going to hear all about it as soon he got to the locker room.

“How happy are you to be free of Tkachuk?”

“So fucking happy, you’ve got no idea!”

You laughed along with another of the assistants as the two of you helped organize the remaining luggage for the driver to load beneath the bus.

“He played like shit today, might be bummed you two aren’t going to keep sleeping together.”

“Oh, don’t even. ‘Sleeping together’ implies something entirely different that what we were forced to do.”

“I know, I know,” he shook his head and laughed easily, “but honestly, did you think about it? I know you two aren’t exactly besties but come on, look at the man.”

Did you think about it?

Of course you did. You thought about it multiple times. Matthew had stripped down in front of you, once completely and another time almost there. There was no denying that you’d gone to bed at least once thinking about what it would be like to spend the night enjoying yourself underneath him instead of sleeping next to his grumpy ass.

You were taking that shit to the fucking grave, though.

“He’s a complete prick, and I don’t know if you heard, but I slept on the floor a few days ago, so no. I wouldn’t fuck that man with your dick.”

That response sent him into a fit of laughter, “I mean I get that it was a rough week for you but I’ll be honest, I respectfully disagree. That pest could fucking get it anytime he wanted.”

“Gross,” you playfully rolled your eyes as the two of you finished your task, “spend a few hours with him not in a strictly hockey setting and I promise you’ll change your mind.”

“Doubtful!”

When all the luggage was loaded, the two of you made your way onto the bus. None of the players were there yet so you both took advantage of the back two rows that only contained two seats each. The entirety of the team didn’t completely fill the bus so you, stupidly, assumed you would sit alone on the trip home.

Shoving your AirPods into your ears, you opened Spotify and settled into both the uncomfortable bus seat and the several hours long trip home.

Not even ten minutes later, a body dropping into the seat next to you pulled your concentration out of your music and when you looked to see who it was that sat next to you, you couldn’t yourself from rolling your eyes.

Matthew Tkachuk gave you a tight smile before rummaging around through his book bag and producing a paperback book.

No he wasn’t. There was no way he was reading that. Dumb hockey bros weren’t into high fantasy. There was no fucking way he was reading ‘A Game of Thrones.’

He was though, and you watched him like a hawk as he parted the book where his mark was placed, almost halfway through, before you felt like you had to say something.

“You’re legitimately reading that book,” you pulled out an AirPod and gave him an inquiring look, “really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I loved the show, figured I’d give the books a try.”

“They’re really good, much better than the show in my opinion.”

Matthew’s smile stretched across his face, “that’s what I’m thinking! I know I’m barely into it but the books are so much more detailed.”

It was a cute moment, the two of you sharing an interest, but you were determined to remain all business with him.

“Why’d you sit here?”

“I don’t know,” he ran a hand through his curls, “why not?”

A quick silence formed between the two of you before he tried again, “what are you listening to?”

“Uh, Bring Me The Horizon, you probably won’t like it.”

“Try me.”

Matthew handed you his phone and you opened up his Spotify account and typed in the song you were listening to.

“So the band is Bring Me The Horizon, right? What’s the song called?”

“Sugar honey ice & tea.”

“Okay.”

You settled into a comfortable flow with Matthew. One of your pods was in his ear as he read AGOT and listened to the whatever you were playing. He didn’t mind when you fell asleep on his shoulder, leaning his head against yours as he continued reading his book.

“Hey,” he was gentle, “wake up. We’re home.”

“What?”

“We’re back in Calgary.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Are you good?”

“Yeah, I just, yeah. Can you ask someone if they wouldn’t mind taking me home? My car’s here but I’m so fucking tired.”

“I can take you home.”

“Matthew, no, you cant. You need to rest. I’m fine, I’ll be fine. I’ll get an Uber or something.”

“No.”

He was firm in his response. Your eyes were heavy with sleep and you were in no condition to do anything on your own.

“Whatever, I don’t want to fight with you, dickface.”

Matthew chuckled to himself as he guided you into the parking garage toward his car. You let him open the passenger door and help you into the Audi.

“What’s your address?”

You mumbled it quickly, earning a smile and a “we live in the same building” declaration from him.

Far too sleepy to notice anything around you, you nodded in and out of sleep as Matthew drove from the area to your building. His quick glances in your direction were lost on you and it was only when he was trying to get you out of the car that you really woke up.

“Fuck, Matt, I’m so sorry. I’m just so exhausted.”

“I get it,” he helped you get your bags out of his trunk, “you didn’t have a great week and I had a lot to do with that.”

The two of you headed up to your second floor apartment in silence, you trudging up the stairs with little effort while Matthew followed you, making sure you didn’t fall.

“This is me. Where are you?”

“Oh, uh,” his cheeks lit up red as his eyes traveled toward the ceiling.

“Of course, superstar Matty Tkachuk lives in the penthouse on the top floor,” you teased, “if only we could all be so lucky.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your apartment,” he slid around you let himself in as soon as you opened the door and surveyed his surroundings, “I really like it.”

He didn’t expect her place to be so cute, but it was and he smiled wide when her black cat rubbed against his legs.

“He’s called Onyx.”

“I like him,” Matthew leaned down to scratch his ears, “who takes care of him when you’re gone?”

“My neighbor. She’s a sweet lady.”

“I’m glad."

“I’m sure this is peasant shit compared to your place, but we do what we can.”

He stopped petting Onyx and looked up to meet her eyes.

“I would never think that about anyone. Jesus Christ, do you really think I’m that much of a fucking asshole?”

She didn’t say anything, but her face turned beet red and she turned away from him before turning back again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so used to you being awful that any small morsel of kindness is unfamiliar. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You should sleep though.”

“Yeah.”

He paused for a moment before breaking out in a big grin, “can I take Onyx up with me?”

“Absolutely not! Onyx is a heathen like the rest of us on the lower floors!”

“He deserves 360 degree views of Calgary.”

You paused, turning to look directly at Matthew.

“Do you have that?”

“Yeah.”

“I am so fucking jealous.”

“You can come up and see too, as long as you bring Onyx.”

“As much as I don’t like you, I’m absolutely going to take you up on that, Matthew.”

He hated ‘Matthew’ and she knew it. He had tried to correct her a few times but she wasn’t budging. He wasn’t going to argue now, though, because she was adorable standing in her own apartment with her cute cat rubbing against her legs and—No. No, no, no. Matthew did not like this girl because this girl was fucking terrible and she hated him.

Except, he did like her and she was the opposite of terrible and she had an adorable cat.

What the fuck was he doing?

#matthew tkachuk #matt tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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notallmalfoys · 3 years

Text

a Drinny drabble.

Maybe it'll become a proper one shot one day? 637 words. Very much unedited. Inspired by this prompt by @writing-prompt-s:

The shopkeeper points at the sign clearly marked “Absolutely NO Refunds.” The egg you bought hatched, you can’t get a refund, and now you have a talking baby dragon who insists that you’re its parent.

Draco cleared his throat.

“I’d like a refund, please.”

The redhead manning the register pointed at the sign to her left, hanging next to the register, rustling the magazine pages in her hands. It read “Absolutely NO Refunds.”

“No, this is your store’s fault and you need to take this back,” Draco insisted, getting impatient. Before he had a chance to continue, the bundle in his arm wriggled. The little creature looked up at him bleary eyed, adjusting to its new surroundings.

In the course of twenty four hours, Draco had gone from acquiring a stupidly expensive replica of a dragon’s egg as a gift for a client’s child to acquiring an actual baby dragon. At first, he was mildly impressed that the egg had looked so realistic, but when he returned to his hotel room to cracked eggshells littering the floor, followed by the ugliest shriek to pierce his ears, he realized it was too good to be true.

He looked down at the scaly, green thing in his arms. Pieces of ivory pierced through its rough skin, which would eventually give way to golden horns. From his week long business trip in Romania, Draco had surmised that it was a Common Welsh Green Dragon.

Its large yellow eyes looked up at him expectantly, as if waiting for a treat. He rolled his eyes. The creature had an insatiable appetite despite only being a day old. Draco had barely slept through the night, unable to calm the dragon long enough for either of them to get some sleep. He’d ordered so much raw meat from room service that the hotel staff was eyeing him suspiciously the next morning.

It coughed, sending tiny flame balls towards the cashier and singed holes into the latest edition of Witch Weekly. The young woman let out a string of curses as she threw down the magazine and stamped the fire out with her foot.

“Oye! Watch it!”

Draco recognized that voice and the blazing brown eyes. Sitting at the register before him was Ginny Weasley. He hadn’t come face to face with a Weasley in several years, and now he’d encountered two in one week.

“What the hell are you doing here, Weasley?” Draco asked, shocked to see her in Romania of all places. He remembered her in the periphery of his Hogwarts days, straggling behind Harry Potter and his lackeys. She was also prettier than he remembered as his eyes looked her over, despite the countless freckles and exasperated expression.

“It’s called a job, Malfoy,” Ginny snapped. “Something you have no concept of.”

The bundle of terror cried out, causing Draco to scowl. He ran his free hand through his unusually tousled blonde hair. He’d barely slept through the night and hastily threw on his cloak to march back down to the shop first thing in the morning, not bothering to take a second look in the mirror.

“Maybe if you did your job properly, I wouldn’t have ended up with this thing.”

She had the audacity to laugh pompously. “We don’t sell dragons at the souvenir shop, now go bother someone else.”

“Where’s Weasley?”

“You’re looking at one.”

Draco glowered. “The one who knows something about dragons.”

“I know things,” Ginny scowled. “It thinks you’re its mum.”

“You mean dad,” he corrected, choosing to ignore how mad he sounded.

“No, I mean mum,” Ginny began. He noticed her dull, bored eyes brightening with interest. “Typically, when a dragon is born, the first thing it sees is its mother. You must have been the first creature the dragon saw and it transferred those instincts onto you.”

She walked around the counter and came up to him, petting the little dragon fondly. It cooed and grabbed onto her finger. “Unfortunate for the dragon, really. Looks like it's stuck with you.”

#Drinny #harry potter #draco malfoy #ginny weasley #harry potter fanfiction #draco x ginny #dragons #Charlie Weasley #dmgw #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #dragon keeper #post hogwarts

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shadowworks · 4 years

Text

Observe: Part One

Pairing: Dabi x f!Reader

Warnings: Bloodplay, hair pulling, violent themes, dubcon themes. No smut in this chapter, but expect it in the next part.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: This fic is written in third person, but it’s still DabixReader. I’ve always written in third, and it’s just my favourite style. I hope you enjoy! :)

Edit: @pleasantanathema THANK YOU BABE!! You made me a banner just cause you love me, and I’m so emotional! It’s wonderful and I love it!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Summary: She hadn’t insulted him. Not intentionally, at least. All she said was he had Endeavor’s eyes—which to him might as well have been an insult.

But this was a lesson she’d learn the hard way with a villain like Dabi.

She’d occasionally receive a message from former clients on her phone, always someone connected with the criminal network. On the occasion, if she needed more income she’d accept a brightly lit offer on her screen, tapping her thumbs in a quick reply. But for the most part, she managed to distance herself from smuggling trades.

It was a matter of time before her name would disappear from the mouths of villains, from the prowlers who made use of her quirk. From the distraught beggars pleading on their knees for another loan. Subtly, she’d untie herself from the web she spun herself into three years ago.

Well, maybe. She hoped.

These things were hard to tell.

A shot of tequila ghost her bottom lip as she fell in thought. Her elbow perched on the glossy counter and a glass held between her thumb and two fingers.

The soft glow of violet lights filtered from the ceiling and dimmed the room. People mingled at tables, peals of high pitched laughter broke out, a chair screeching across the hardwood floor - and she was alone at the bar counter.

It was fine. She wasn’t often among friends. There’s danger in her line of work, and for those reasons she didn’t try to be involved. Too much collateral damage and all that jazz.

The bartender crossed her line of sight again. He looked a tad confused at her vacant stare and full glass, but she paid him little mind. She stared on towards the glass bottles aligning the bar wall.

“You have no idea how easy you made this.” the voice had come from her left. She pulled herself from her thoughts, turning to a low voice.

There was a man there, sitting two stools down from her seat. He was leaning forward on the counter, long limbs crossed in a careless manner. He looked as though he didn’t want to be there.

Still, a shot glass sat in front of him, his liquor of choice a darker shade than hers. He just ordered. She hadn't even noticed him come up to the bar. Was she that lost in thought?

“What?” She eventually asked, squinting her eyes.

He wouldn’t turn his head and his stitched hand grasped the glass in front to leisurely toss back. The glass softly touched the polished wood upside down, soundless.

“You stand out too much.” He finally said. The black spikes of hair tilted down as he cocked his head to her, grinning a little too mischievously. There was an arrogance to him and it brimmed in a pair of bright teal eyes. “But I wonder if you like that.”

She smiled bitterly, raising her glass like a toast, “Depends who notices.”

She tipped the shot back in her mouth, feeling it burn the whole way down. She flipped her glass upside down and her features contorted. There was a loud clunk when she tapped her class to the polished wood.

The smuggler reached for a charcoal jacket laying on the stool beside her, before stepping off the tall seat. She hardly flirted much really, and when she did it was on more festive occasions diving three shots of tequila deep. It certainly wasn’t after a smuggling trade near the outskirts. But she’d admit, there was an attractive appeal to him. She just couldn’t place it. Maybe it was how he carried his shoulders? His high cheekbones? She let her gaze fall over him while she slid her arm into the sleeve of the jacket.

”If you’re suggesting what I think you're suggesting, I have to say no. You’re easy on the eyes, but…” She offered another half-hearted smile, while she strolled his way toward the exiting door. She didn’t plan on finishing the sentence.

He wasn’t deterred from his plan. He seemed to like that as a staple tugged the corner of his mouth, and his eyes narrowing slightly. Once she neared his leaning figure, all too sudden; a hand shot out and seized her wrist. She halted— her sight falling to her arm, then up to his face, startled.

“I am, huh?” The man in black stood at full height, pulling her forward to leer upon her features. “I’m not so sure you know what's going on in my head. In fact, I’m not sure you even know how much trouble you’re in .”

Her fingers slowly clenched in a fist, ready to flex in response if she had to. For now, she steadied her composure like she taught herself.

“Trouble? I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what you're talking about,” she said.

“I’ve heard of gem smugglers using their quirk for gain. They’re usually fake as hell, but yours look like the real thing. Maybe they are, but I imagine you wouldn’t want anyone hearing about this, would you?”

Her stare was pinned by his immediately.

He knew her secret.

He just wasn’t prepared for her to know his.

***

They sauntered through narrow side streets in the dark, keeping at decent pace. It was perhaps the easiest way through the city as they made their way towards a (tauntingly) vague end-of-the-line. His hideout, she guessed.

His name was Dabi, a member of the League of Villains. He revealed that much at the bar. It didn’t take long for her to cooperate with her own kidnapping once he whispered his burning threats.

Dabi kept her close, letting his shoulders fall back with hands in his coat pockets. He would sometimes steer her away from strangers nearing the same path though. He’d hold her by the elbow or the small of her back, making them look connected like they were a couple. She didn’t like this. She’d glare at her feet every time, and play the role of the upset girlfriend to Dabi’s facade.

When he did it again, she silently shrugged his heated hand off her arm. Dabi sneered.

“Oh come on, are you throwing a fit?”

She wouldn’t answer, preferring to glower at their striding feet. It was odd noticing they both shared a similar taste in black boots. Except hers hugged tighter and raised high to the knees.

Dabi waited a beat, tilting his head to look over her downcast features. When he found what he was searching for he smirked, glancing away.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, you know. Why bother pouting like a stubborn brat?”

”I’m not. I’m just...” she paused, breathing out steadily. She needed to remind herself to stay calm. “I still don’t understand your bosses reasoning for bringing me in.”

She felt a grip hold onto her shoulder, and she turned her head. Dabi’s nimble steps had slowed to a stop, and he twisted her body to face his. For a moment, Dabi let his hand stay on her jacket.

He said her name out loud and mulled it over briefly. It wasn’t every day some young crook was behind a scheme like this. In fact, the whole thing seemed interesting.

“Heh, don’t take this the wrong way, but I wasn’t expecting you’d have a pretty face.”

”What does that have—“

“I’ve heard your name mentioned around the gambling rings from time to time—”

“—And I haven’t sold anything to the gambling rings in over a year,” She said firmly, though her stare dropped to look anywhere else. She didn’t like the quirked smile he gave after.

“But you kept selling shit on the black market?”

”I was done with it. I made enough to keep me off the streets, and I left.”

”Right. That’s not what the Yakuza said.”

She snapped her head up. Dabi had struck a nerve.

”What does that matter? Why is Shigaraki kidnapping a has-been gem smuggler? You said it yourself—he doesn’t care about the money!”

She wasn’t expecting he’d reach for her face, and she flinched as warm fingers pressed on her temple, tugging on her eyebrow with his left thumb.

In the hairs of her brow shined tiny round quartz; clear and clean with three grown on each side. A manifestation of her quirk. Dabi might have mistaken them for a fashion trend if he hadn’t known better.

“Oh, but you do more than that,” he countered. The pad of his thumb began brushing against the hard gem in her skin. “They say you have an ice quirk, but that’s not it, is it? I think you can shoot these little guys from your body like glass.”

She didn’t answer him. She didn’t want to. All she did was study his face. He was scarred with dark burn marks marring the flesh. Staples pinned old wounds to his smoother skin...She didn’t want to know what torture he dealt with to be branded so cruelly. But it wasn’t what kept her staring. No, it’s just that his teal eyes managed to be the most startling feature about him. They looked rather bright, beautiful even. Something quite rare.

Dabi likely felt her gaze flick over his features a little too long as he released her. He must have made his point. And for good measure, he gave her a light shove to make her walk forward once more.

“You’re assuming too much.” she mumbled after catching her footing. She didn’t care if Dabi heard.

They still had some distance to tread, and eventually Dabi’s route led to a crosswalk. There was hardly anyone around, allowing the signal to flash a light green. Dabi’s palm found the small of her back again, pressing his fingers close on her spine. Her arms crossed over her chest in the moment, glaring off to the side.

But something caught her eye.

Her chin tilted up toward a tv, the illuminating screen was built into the skyscraper nearby. The video clips were from today’s broadcast; it showed a familiar man of fire. He was a Pro Hero; the best one in the business—well, now that All Might was retired he was. A massive man with fierce red hair and flame licking at his upper lip and clenched jaw to form facial hair. As he looked off in the distance from the camera, the quality lens focused on his cold and stern eyes. They were a bright teal.

She didn’t break her gaze ‘til they reached the end of the crosswalk. By then, something was reeling in her mind. She recognized a particular pattern in his facial features, or was it a coincidence? It must be. And yet. She took a concentrated glance up toward Dabi taking in the beautiful hue in his sharp gaze peering on. Then she glanced back ahead.

“You have the same eyes,” she said all of a sudden.

Dabi raised a brow. He didn’t fully turn to her, though he was listening closely. “Say what, now?”

“Your eyes. They look the same as Endeavor’s. You both have these handsome blue eyes and…”

She paused quickly, a slight heat tinted her nose—“You, umm, you don’t see that often.”

Dabi didn’t say anything, but his figure went tense at the arms.

“In fact...you really only see someone with the same pair of eyes if they’re related, like,” She paused to whirl and face Dabi. Then, and only then, did she take in the silent rage creeping across his dark, narrow expression. In cold and stern eyes, she made a realization.

“Like father and son.”

It was silent as they came to a stop. She waited; waited on Dabi to disrupt the creeping tensity. She expected a fist to the jaw, or maybe an eager lick of flame on the offense. Something. Instead, Dabi settled and loosened his posture. His threatening features, which paused on her body swept away as they shifted ahead.

“Keep walking.” He said. He gave another push to her shoulder blade, hard this time. She did as she was told and took a couple stuttered steps but she wouldn’t let up.

“He’s your father, isn’t he?”

Dabi said nothing.

“He’s the number one Hero—but you’re a villain? Is he that terrible? He must be if he ruined his kid.”

Dabi said nothing, but his fingers twitched.

She was feeling spite rising in her throat. Her thoughts unraveled before she could think, and she smiled coldly beside him.

“And for what? Because daddy didn’t love you? Were you not good enough?”

She felt a hand grip her hair and a push. Then the collision of cement with a hard smack.

A bloody taste pooled in her mouth, spreading warmly on her bottom lip. Her cheekbone was throbbing, blindingly white throbbing. A searing pain flared across her inflicted wound and up to her temple.

“Ah no, looks like you tripped there, doll face. You really should be careful.”

Dabi was on her already, turning and slamming her back into the wall. Before she could register anything beyond her pulsing cheekbone, the villain squeezed one hand on her shoulder and the other remained threaded in her hair.

“Now, that was stupid,” Dabi said, his face leering an inch from hers, his teal eyes on full display.

Once the last spotty star in her eyes faded, she fixated on him, managing to crack a weak smile. Blood darkened her lip as she nodded, “Yeah, it was. It really was. I should have stopped talking.”

There was a small pull at his lips in amusement. For his own reasons, the fingers tangled in her locks tugged her closer. “You know, I was planning to wait until you settled in. But now I’ve changed my mind.”

His thumb slowly traced across her lower lip, coating his pad red. His voice dropped low, eerily casual, “I think I’ll fuck you here. Teach you a lesson on keeping your mouth shut, and minding your damn business.”

The smuggler’s stomach fluttered. “Wait, wha-!”

Dabi yanked on the mess of hair collected in his fist, causing her mouth to drop in a silent scream. He acted fast. His lips crashed down on hers. He was vicious, taking the air out from her lungs in a hard kiss. The taste of iron spread through their mouth, their saliva, and he inhaled harsh breathes between sucking of her tongue.

She could barely catch up. Every time she pulled back to breathe, Dabi chased after her lips, banging her head to the concrete behind. It was dizzying, hazy, though she did this to herself. She sparked a wild flame and he retaliated. He was pissed.

She felt him hoist her up by the thigh and he slammed her back to the wall a second time. She cried out. He crushed her mouth, which now wad smeared with sticky blood. He forced her to swallow her throbbing pain; she’d scream when he wanted her to scream.

Dabi was able to press his body between her legs. He rolled his bulge against her core, and her lips parted shakily as he hit the right spot. A tingling heat ached at her core. Oh fuck. His hand was burning at this point, it raked against her outer thigh, sinking his fingertips into her hips.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Her mind raced desperately. He felt good. No, she couldn’t do this. Not with the stitched up fucker who stole her from the bar.

Just before Dabi’s hand could hike up her tight skirt, enough oxygen flooded her brain to think straight. The gem smuggler flicked her gaze to the alley diagonal from them.

They lingered.

And then, her hand smacked the back of Dabi’s neck.

”Dabi, wait, wait. Let me say something, ” she breathlessly pleaded, allowing her forehead to rest against his. ”Dabi, I want--I want to say something.”

“Unless you’re screaming my name, I can’t say I’m all that interested.”

Her eyes slid shut, feeling his chest fall up and down against hers. He was stalling for breath, it was the only reason he complied.

“You were right, earlier. That’s how I made a name for myself in the blackmarket.” As she spoke, the tips of her fingers slowly crystalized. They took the shape of tiny claws, creeping forward little by little, “I made the gems by using my quirk.”

She listened as his breathing returned somewhat to a steady rhythm. There was only the sound of cars gliding down the road in the distance.

“Is that right?”

His burnt arm reached behind his neck and feeling his palm wrap around her fingers—she knew it was too late.

Her eyes snapped open to see Dabi smirking, “You must think you’re pretty slick.”

Damn, he was too fast. But then again, so was she.

“Well, it was worth a try,” she replied.

And she released her quirk.

Dabi’s ears perked at the cracking of glass, and let go before they slashed his palm, dipping to the ground—Shards of quartz shot out in a broken explosion. The gem smuggler fled.

Her boots pounded into the road as she sprinted for the shadows in the alley across the way, ignoring the shards littering down her body. Her pounding footsteps continued to echo through the darkness.

Dabi was alone when he stood up, teal eyes trained on the alley. What a little bitch. How irritating. But it was alright, he’d come for her. He didn’t mind playing a quick game of cat and mouse before he claimed her rough and bloody. Whatever choices she made, she would come to regret them.

Following after her, Dabi’s steps were calculated as he made his way toward the alley. He stopped to glare ahead.

“Run all you want, doll. It makes no difference.”

He picked up his steps and he ran without a sound.

She only wished she had learned that silence wasn’t her friend.

#dabi x reader #dabi fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero academia fanfiction #fanfic #mha x reader #bnha x reader #violent themes #nyki writes a thing

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mintawasalreadytaken · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Series: Holes

A story about all of Draco's holes, except for that one.

Or: A story about what it means to give and receive gifts.

Or—

This story wouldn't exist without a nudge in the direction to say "fuck it" and just do it from @vukovich. Her alpha edits made it infinitely better (read: grosser, weirder, coherent). Thank you for pushing for "goth mom" territory.

Thanks also to brightbluegiraffe for the beta. You ran with the weirdness, and for that, I thank you.

This story combines prompts from days 8 (pneumothorax), 10 (ice chips), 16 (scars), 21 (bleeding through the bandages), and 29 (”You’re still not dead?”).

Mind the tags. Hold on to your butts.

Chapter 1

Part 1

When Harry told Hermione and Ron what he wanted to do with his life, he knew he was on his own again.

His answer was met by an unusual silence. Foam sloshed over the lip of the copper washing barrel set at the edge of the stream behind the Burrow. Hermione lifted her wrist in its direction and a sock tinted terra-cotta levitated above its brim, suds dripping from the lumpen toe-cap. She released the spell and it splashed back into the churning depths.

Ron’s quiet was excused by the audacity of it. Harry knew he’d see it as a plan hatched alone, even though the three of them were never alone. Every night, Harry waited for the swish of a blanket pulling at worn carpets, and the telltale creak of the treads on the stair as they all found one another in the dark. Harry only found rest on the chesterfield in the front room; only slept when his fingers hung nearly to the floor but met the rise and fall of Ron’s back instead. Hermione tucked next to him on the pallet transfigured from a single feather.

Hermione hummed. Thinking unhappy thoughts.

“That requires top marks, you know.”

She chewed a curl, and at Harry’s look pulled it out, self-conscious.

“‘Course he knows that,” Ron said mulishly.

“He’ll have to go away for Muggle schooling first,” he continued. “He knows that, too.”

“Right,” Harry said. He adjusted on his seat of stone, the cold leaching through denim. He gave a twist to his wand and the flames at the base of the washbasin flared, blasting dry heat against his face.

They weren’t sure that he could pull it off and truth be told, neither was he.

It didn’t matter if he was sure. He wanted to try something. To become someone who did things by choice.

He’d have to learn how to live on his own to get that far. Right then, learning to live seemed as radical an idea as anything else.

Why shouldn’t he? Why shouldn’t he try?

Part II

“I like to change my shoes completely.”

Healer Hewitt shrunk when he sat. Harry hadn’t noticed it before, but he was a compact man. Preparing to share the worst sort of news—inoperable, we’ll do what we can for pain but can’t promise to get you as far as your daughter’s wedding—made him smaller.

“How uncharacteristically superstitious of you,” Harry said. Hewitt charmed the laces on his fresh pair of trainers to form rabbit-ears and focused on them as they wound together. Harry noticed that his cheek raised slightly.

Harry aimed a Tergeo at his own trainers and gave them a thorough once over. Hewitt was the one who’d taught him to double-check your shoes before giving bad news to families. Good news, too—any news.

“Get that blood off your shoes the moment you step out of my operating theatre or I’ll send you back to first-year healing school,” was what he’d originally said after Harry’s first surgery. Not the most tactful, Hewitt, but it was the sentiment that mattered.

Hewitt sighed. A few years out from retirement and it showed in the curve of his back. The work tired him now in a way it hadn’t when Harry had first started training under him.

“You’ve done all you could,” Hewitt offered.

“We both have. Now come on, old man. No point in keeping them waiting.”

Harry held the door open, head bowed. Three years in residence spent with a crick of deference in his neck. Hewitt had a habit of making residencies hell, but Harry knew when to keep his head low, how to cow a bully into thinking they were in charge. What was chronic back pain on top of the sleep deprivation and constant, low-level anxiety when Harry was days away from receiving his full license?

The door swung shut and Harry pressed a palm to his mentor’s shoulder. He straightened up to his full height and looked down his nose into Hewitt’s dark eyes.

“Let me take this one, won’t you?” Harry asked. “I’m ready.”

Part III

The promise of sitting down was so tantalizing that Harry felt above reproach that he hadn’t clocked the patient’s name before he entered the room. His arse hit the chair and he was careful not to sigh or give away how incredible the relief of pressure on the soles of his feet was, and that’s when he noticed the patient. Unfortunately, Healer Abbott was already firing off the report, and followed up with the inevitable swanning, and Harry had no choice but to wait to say his part.

After all that waiting, as soon as Harry opened his mouth, he was interrupted.

“So the rumours are true.” Malfoy’s drawl was so unimpressed that it put a genuine grin on Harry’s face to hear it. Nobody sounded disappointed with him. Ever.

“Draco Malfoy,” Harry said. “I can’t say I’ve heard all the rumours, but I hope people are saying good things.”

Healer Abbott’s brows darted up to form lines of surprise clear across the entirety of her forehead.

“I can recuse myself,” Harry said, for her benefit, looking at Malfoy. Not a hair out of place, not a muscle on his face moved, yet his bent leg started to bounce over the edge of the examination table as soon as Harry entered the room.

“There will be no need for that, Healer Potter,” Malfoy said breezily. He’d softened, then, in the years since they’d last seen one another.

“One can hardly swing a dead crup by its tail around here without hitting an acquaintance from school.”

“We were more than acquaintances.” Harry’s toes curled up inside the sweaty tombs of his sneakers and fuck it was glorious, even if it came with the price of talking to Malfoy.

Abbott sat back, arms crossed tightly across her chest watching mutely as she assessed the situation.

“Are you comfortable continuing treatment with Healer Potter, Mr Malfoy?”

“Oh, yes, quite,” Malfoy answered brightly. “Who am I to turn down one of the brightest in the field?”

Something clicked when Malfoy gripped the steel edge of the bed frame. A silver signet on his pinky, was the source of the sound—loose enough that it slid askew. He leaned closer to Harry, into the glow from the pendant light in the centre of the room.

He was thin, then, which was to be expected. Showed no outward signs of pain, though the way he bounced his leg, and there was something about his gaze—

“I thought you might simply be big-headed, but now my money’s on a martyr complex,” Malfoy spoke softly. When Harry’s cheek quivered with an unprofessional smile, Malfoy leaned back, satisfied.

“I’m eager to be on your case, and we’re going to figure out the best care plan for you. If you can agree to join me in doing that, I think we’ll get along swimmingly. Shan’t we at least try?”

Malfoy snorted.

“If the saviour of the wizarding world wants to mop up after my haemorrhaging wounds, who am I to say no?” he asked Abbott. He gave her a rascal’s smile. “It’s not like I wish I were at discotheques rubbing up on—”

“Mr Malfoy,” Abbott warned. Her chin dropped as her ire rose.

“It’s alright, Myrna,” Harry gave her a smile that was much more effective in assuaging her worries as he plucked Malfoy’s chart from her hands. “I’ve got him. Let’s get on with it then, shall we?”

She left; they managed something approximating normal and appropriate healer-patient chat if one ignored Malfoy’s over-the-top digs at Harry’s abilities and sexual innuendo.

It was all very every day until Harry observed Malfoy in silence for ten seconds and asked the question that had been on his mind since he entered the room.

“When did the rash show up on your—is it your ankle?”

Malfoy’s leg stopped at the bottom of a swing and held still.

“What?”

“Or is it the entire shin?” Harry stood and with the practise of a person who’d done this a thousand times, Malfoy took his movement as a sign to unlatch the button at his waistcoat and slide back, rumpling the exam table paper.

He removed his jacket and sent it to hang on the back of the door.

“How do you want me?” He looked up from under eyelashes like shards of ice. “Arse up?”

The whites of his eyes were pink, and Harry knew then only the tip of the iceberg of the secrets he was capable of holding. Malfoy rolled onto one hip, and Harry held up a hand to stop him.

“On your back is fine, thank you.”

“Second-favourite...” he murmured.

“I didn't see a note about erythema in your chart,” Harry continued. “The ulcers on your shins.”

Malfoy sat up briefly, knees under his chin as he peeled his black socks off, bunching them together in a ball. Harry turned away to Scourgify his hands and stripped a pair of fresh gloves of their packaging. When he turned around, Malfoy lay back, hands crossed over the third button of his shirt.

“More ulcers,” he muttered, studying the ceiling. “Wonderful.”

Harry placed two fingers under the knee closest to him, his free hand wrapping with suspect ease around Malfoy’s ankle. Bending the leg, he rolled his trouser-leg up, revealing violet-hued bumps. Some were mulberry dark, edging on red—unhappy sores.

“The wool in your trousers might be exacerbating them,” he said.

“Is this you trying to get me out of my trousers?” Malfoy mused.

Harry examined the other shin, a huff of breath for a laugh.

“This is me asking you to consider linen next time.”

The right leg was worse than the left. Harry vanished the gloves and set a quill to take notes.

“Perhaps a silk-cotton blend,” Malfoy murmured. “I like shiny things,” he said, and Harry wondered why Malfoy wanted him to know .

What lurked under the crisp white oxford weren’t any scars that Harry had caused. He pressed his fingers into the soft of Malfoy’s belly and maintained pressure.

“Does that hurt?”

“Not really.” What little colour held in Malfoy’s cheeks drained someplace else.

Harry pressed his thumbs into the hollows under Malfoy’s eyes and tugged skin thin like tissue paper. It crawled back into place.

“There’s redness in the whites of your eyes, and you're dehydrated, though you didn’t seem concerned about it when I asked earlier.” Harry nabbed the quill and studied what had been written over the course of twenty minutes. The picture painted wasn’t surprising, nor was it pretty.

“You’ve got a flare-up coming.”

Malfoy turned to rest his cheek on the bed.

“I’ve always got a flare-up coming,” he whispered.

Harry felt that he was being granted a look into Malfoy.

Thought, falsely, that by looking at him one might be able to intuit what was going on behind eyes so grey they were violet in the right light.

“That’s the first genuine thing you’ve said all day,” Harry said. Malfoy eyes snapped up to his and Harry stared back, gaze flicking to his wanton mouth when it opened to reveal the pink of his tongue as his breath rustled the paper.

Harry felt the strangest urge to learn the inside of Malfoy's mouth without gloves. To prod the sensitive bits. Find the soft bruisable parts he kept hidden.

Open up. Harry’s heart thudded in his throat. Open up.

Part IV

“You’re still not dead?”

Malfoy made a sound in his throat.

“Simply wan.” His voice was pockmarked, throat abraded by too many tubes.

Harry frowned at the dust coating the windowsill and it vanished, revealing a bar of honey-coloured wood. He set the vase of flowers in his hands upon it.

Malfoy summoned the energy to open his eyes.

“Daisies,” he spat. “Pah.”

Harry smiled, shrugging out of his sodden wool coat to drape over the back of the visitor's chair.

“I figured if my surgical skills didn’t end you, the oppressive happiness of a common daisy might finally finish the job.”

“I should have you sack—”

Malfoy’s favourite line was punctuated by a wracking cough. When he finished, Harry was there, wiping the spittle from his lips.

“We managed to close up Myrtle,” Harry said.

At that, the corners of Malfoy’s thin lips rose.

“Are you telling me that a couple of stent spells was all it took to stop her—”

Malfoy was interrupted by the need to inhale. Exhaled, far too laboured for Harry’s liking, caught on the edge of a cough that didn’t manifest.

“—weeping?” Malfoy finished the sentence.

“You say weeping, I say a fistula causing fluid leakage, but yes, in a nutshell.”

Harry unlaced his fingers from Malfoy’s cold ones. He didn’t remember Malfoy taking his hand.

Malfoy’s head rolled on his pillow. He stared glassy-eyed out into the gloom of a storm and was quiet for so long that his next whispered words came as a surprise to Harry.

“I wish I’d been awake.”

The words susurrated, more breath than speech. In the right mood, Harry would pretend that his patient was incoherent and ignore him.

Malfoy’s eyelids met and didn’t blink open again.

“Are you tired?” Harry asked. He wiped the hair from Malfoy’s brow and smoothed it back.

“No,” Malfoy lied. “I can’t stand looking at that charity shop vase and spray of unbearably cheap cheer you call a flower arrangement.”

Harry snorted, and trailed his hand down. Over the rough hollow of Malfoy’s cheek. Whispered his knuckles from exposed collarbones, ghosted fingertips under the neck of Malfoy’s hospital gown.

Beneath it, a set of fresh wounds Harry had given him. Wounds meant to heal, but cut open by his hand all the same.

“What’s it like?” Malfoy asked. “To be inside another person?”

Eyes like bruises watched Harry, and he felt helpless. Powerless to do anything but return their stare.

Years of this thing between them, Harry wasn’t entirely surprised by the question.

“Laparoscopic surgery—”

“No.” The word a cold lashing. “You know what I mean.”

Harry removed his hand from its wandering and took a seat, the chair scraping loudly as he snuck it closer than necessary. A flick of his wrist and he sent a locking charm at the door. A Muffliato followed for good measure, and Malfoy bit his bottom lip, but couldn’t contain his smile.

“It’s a powerful feeling to get under someone’s skin. Literally.”

Malfoy’s forehead shone with the unfortunate lighting of his bedside lamp. His bottom lip was plump and it shone too, slick when it was released slowly from the grip of his teeth. At Harry’s whispered words the light in the room lowered. Dim lighting didn’t add any pounds to Malfoy’s frame, but it was easier for him to open his eyes, and Harry wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t spent years hunting for their attention.

“The best is when you can feel yourself. Poking through from inside out.”

Malfoy’s chest rose and fell deliciously, his hands carefully folded over the tenting of his gown that grew fuller the longer he was in Harry’s presence. Harry rested a hand over one of Malfoy’s.

“What’s it like,” Malfoy asked. “The other way?”

Harry rubbed his thumb over the ridge of the knuckle of Malfoy’s thumb as his hand moved. A subtle brushing, like petting a cat—gentle.

“It’s—there’s pressure. You know what it’s like when you feel full, like you’ve—”

“Not the physiological part, you prat,” Malfoy’s whisper was hoarse. His hand moved faster and Harry wanted to see, but if he kept his eyes up, glued to Malfoy’s, he could also pretend that nothing was happening.

Malfoy’s chin jut up and he gasped. Everything stilled.

Harry squeezed his hand once and slid his own across the crest of a hip bone and the valley of empty space to the edge of the mattress. He brandished his wand to mutter a cleaning spell and cut the Muffliato.

Against the backdrop of Malfoy’s quiet panting, Harry shook his head.

“I can’t, Malfoy. We can’t, we have to stop this. I’m sorry I do this to you. I’m confusing you and I should stop. It’s not right to—”

“Like I bloody care about what’s right,” Malfoy’s lower lids were full to the brim, displeasure churning under the surface. “And we can’t just stop. Stop what? Stop now, when you’ve finally left me a present?”

Harry stood, engulfing himself in wet wool.

“You’re not to speak of it,” he hissed.

In the pocket of his coat his fingers found the pair of damp tickets. The show he was going to be late to. For this.

For whatever thing inside him was drawn time and time again to find its mate in Malfoy.

“But you did, this time, right? You promised. Tell me, tell me what it is.”

Malfoy’s eyelids were closed again but the seam glistened. Harry had a lot of practise pretending not to notice when that happened.

“Get some rest. I’ll check on you again Friday, yeah?”

“Please,” Malfoy pled. The word startled Harry from doing up the buttons to his coat. It wasn’t a word Malfoy used, and there was something about the sound of him begging that was so pure, it lit up Harry’s heart.

Against his better judgement, Harry stopped. Three steps away from the door and his normal, beautiful life, he instead leaned over the bed.

“A magnet,” he whispered, and Malfoy’s ragged inhale was the sound of wonder.

"To keep you coming back," Malfoy smirked, and Harry straightened up, glad that if he was going to leave him in tears, at least they would be happy ones.

“See you then,” Harry said, tapping a finger twice to an empty expanse of mattress. Mind already on the half-bottle of pinot noir under a stasis charm at home, and the silver bracelet of his mother’s that might make an adequate gift to Gin as an apology for being late.

As the door clicked shut behind him, he made a note to himself to send roses with those little white florets mixed in. No card.

Parkinson used to send those—Malfoy’s hatred of the combination would be a nice, safe topic of conversation for their Friday check-up.

The daisies looked too lonely on that windowsill. It was enough to make anyone pity the person forced to stare at them.

Read the rest at AO3 | Go to the “Dead Drarry: Do Not Eat” collection

#whumptober2021 #no. 8 #no. 10 #no. 16 #no. 21 #no. 29 #harry potter #fic #gore #nsfwhump

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