#I folded so quickly all my anger gone I’m too weak for them SHUT UP

[chandralia]

CHRISTMAS ART FROM HORI !! katsuki clawing at deku as they race is killing me they’re insane

[mossygardenstone]

Hi !

How are you doing ? ^^

Can I request something angsty but maybe (if possible) with an happy ending for whoever you want ?

My idea was that their crush has hanahaki (because they think they don't love them)

I'm sorry, I don't really know how to explain the idea clearly ^^"

I hope you will have a nice day ! :3

I can totally do that for you! :3 I'll write for Red because that's my boy =w= But if you want someone else, feel free to request again! Hope I did it right! ;w;/ I may have gone overboard ;; Reader x Redd - with Hanahaki TW: Medical stuff, illness things, hospitals, angst, no proof reading oops, and swearing You plucked away a last petal from your shoulder, as you returned your gaze to the mirror, looking yourself over for a moment. Of all the people for you to fall for, it had to be him. When the monsters started to come from the underground, you never thought you'd be friends with them, let alone had fallen so head over heels for one of them. But something about this bone boy really got to you. Despite the rough and tough personality he put up, you could see who he was truly. But that's why you knew they wouldn't be interested in you. How could a monster be in love with a human? You looked your face over for a moment more in the mirror, your hands gripping the sink tightly. Once you felt that you had gathered yourself enough to be around others, you sighed and pushed off the sink, giving the mirror a last glance on your way out the bathroom door. Once you entered the living room, a pair of sockets shifted to look at you, as Red's constant smile seemed to grow more at your sight. "Was starting to worry ya fell in the toilet." He teased, his sockets shifting back to the video game he was play, that you had brought over to play with him. You simply forced a smile, that you wore well to block out any prying questions about how you had been, despite the fact your features has slowly worsen over time. Your body finally giving way to display how sickly you had been feeling as of late. You gave the other a soft chuckle and shifted to sit back in your spot next to him in the floor. "Where's your brother?" You asked, peeking over your shoulder, where the taller skeleton monster had been when you left. But it simply earned a shrug from Red, not even looking up from his game. "Didn't ask, he just said he had ta go." He gave a chuckle and shifted a socket to you again. "You know how he gets." You returned a chuckle, the smile you forced felt as constant as the skeletons smile. But you think your cheek muscles were making you have less of an advantage in that department. Your face hurt from smiling. Your body hurt from breath. And being around him just made it worse, you could feel your body react the second you're around him. It felt like you were dying slowly next to him, but that was okay. At least it would be next to him. Lost in your thought, your vision blurred, not even hearing Red as he starts to talk about the game. Your frame wobbled softly in it's spot as the room danced around you, just to swirl into a never ending blackness. You felt your lungs failing yourself, but now you could hear him, because he was much closer now. Your eyes weakly trailed up, to see his bone fingers gripping your shoulder tightly, but you couldn't feel his touch. Your eyes continued up to meet the sockets of the other, his yelling seemed muffled by the fog in your head, he look frustrated, his sockets narrowed at you, his eyelights reduced to pin pricks. But that expression changed once your eyes finally met his, you could see his frustration leave like a flash, the second he locked eyes with your dull ones. He was sweating now, his eyelights gone, leaving his deep sockets staring blankly at you. His worry was quickly amped as your eyes finally fluttered shut and you toppled over in the floor beside him. He gasped now, scrambling to your side and stroking a boney hand across your face, calling out your name, but getting no answer. You awake later, to the sounds of beeps, and the uncomfortable feeling of a cold, sterile room closing in around you. You blink groggily as you try to sit up, but your body refused to let you do more than softly shift around. But you soon stopped your movement, hearing a familiar voice in the next room. It was Alphys, and another more loud voice you also recognized as Sans. You stopped shifting so

you could listen to them in the other room, they seemed upset. But you thought you'd pass out again when you heard Alphys mention a word far too familiar for you. Hanahaki Disease. You knew you had it, you knew that's what was happening to you, it's an easy search. But no one else did, not them, not your friends, not a soul but you knew this. You could feel tears prick your eyes, as you heard Alphys explain it to Sans, your body shaking hoping he wouldn't catch on. But another voice rang out, this time from the room you were in. It was Papyrus, you hadn't even noticed he had been sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, arms folded over his uniform. "Alphys, Sans, they're awake." He barked almost as a command, and they funneled into the room as though it was one, locking eyes with you. Alphys went to spoke, but before she could even attempt to speak, Red's hulking frame was stomping toward you. "Why didn't ya tell me? D... Did ya not know? That's it right?" His tone sounded pleading, like he wanted more than anything for you to not known you were dying, than to not have told him, to hide something like this. You shifted your teary eyes away from him, you knew the longer you stared at him, the more they would fall. "I knew." You finally spoke after a while, making him stare in stunned silence, before his sockets screwed up in anger again. "Why the hell didn't ya tell us? Or at least me?" He sputtered out, his hands waving as he spoke. But when you didn't answer he simply let out a grumble and moved closer to your bed side. "Then tell me at least..." He started, causing you to look at him out of the side of your eye. He hung his head for a moment, thinking over everything he had learned today, before raising his head with a snap "Who the fuck is it then? Who are ya so in love with that it's doing this to ya?" He was shaking at this point, and he didn't know if it was anger, or fear. "And why the hell don't they love ya back?" His voice cracked at those words, and hearing it sent you over the edge as well, tears rolling down your face now, your body trembling to keep from letting out shaky sobs. "Because.." You started for a moment, bringing your hand up to wipe your eyes, the IV in your arm feeling weird as it moved. "I haven't told them." This caused Red to stare blankly, and finally shut up for a moment. Giving Alphys the perfect moment to finally speak. "But Y/N, you will die if you don't tell them soon. Or get the surgery." You winced and tried to choke back another sob. "I don't want the surgery. I know what comes with it... I rather be like this than lose my feelings for them." You said blankly, Alphys looking from you to Sans again. Who was now angered again, hands balled into a fist. "Then tell them! I'm sure they're going to love ya back. They have'ta!" he spat, shaking his skull. You couldn't reply at first, you just softly sobbed to yourself, before taking a deep breath and collecting yourself. "It wont matter if I tell them. They wont feel the same." You weak mutters just fueling his anger more, as he finally had enough, he closed the rest of the space between you both, gripping the bed rails. Alphys reached out to stop him, but simply let him get it out, noticing Papyrus keeping a close eye on him. "Why the hell wouldn't they? Ya great! I should know, I spend almost every day with you!" Alphys blinked and looked at him for a moment. "Sans.. You've been around them a lot lately right?" Sans snapped his head to look at her. "It's what I just said, innit?" Alphys shifted her gaze to you again. "When you met them.... Did they look this sick?" You winced, you knew she had figured it out. Red was staring at you now, you could feel it, his sockets scanned you, before turning back to Alphys. "N...No, I don't think they did.. They had a lot more colla to them." Alphis nodded and looked to again, Red's gaze trailing back to you, his boney fingers still wrapped around the bars of your bed. "Is it a monster? Is that why ya don't think they will like ya? Y/N, monsters fall for humans all the time, you

really-" Sans was cut off by the bellowing of his older brother, causing all three of them to jump and instantly give him their attention. "Sans, you absolute moron." Sans gulped nervously, loosing his grip on the bed, as his brother continued. "It's you they like, how can you be so dense? I saw this ages ago" His eyelights rolled in his skull, as though he had just made another pun. Sans just stared at him, jaw slack, his large frame rumbled from the laughter he let out. "Come on Boss, it's a good joke, but this is serious." He shifted his skull back to look at you. "There's no way someone like them-" He stopped, your eyes were wide, and you face was flushed, and he realized just how pale you've gotten from this sickness. He blinked softly for a moment before letting out a panicked grunt, leaning over the bars, a foot from your face. "Yer fucking joking? T..." His skull flushed a bright cherry candy red, his eyelight finally appearing again for the first time since you passed out, they seemed to vibrate softly, flickering as they scanned you. You couldn't stand to look at him anymore, you felt destroyed, you were going to get rejected in front of everyone and slowly rot away. But instead you were surprised when you felt him clambering over the rails, into the bed with you, spooking both you and Alphys "S.Sans! Careful with them-" She blubbered as he managed to nestle his large frame, mostly sitting on the railing. His grin was larger than you've ever seen, his eyelights looked almost like they had turned heart shaped, and he was giggling like a dork. You scanned him, as you scooted in your bed to make space for the large skeleton monster. "Yer as big of a moron as me I guess, because I liked ya for a while too." He finally, said with another giggle. Your eyes went wide, and you suddenly felt dizzy, actually too dizzy, the room spun as you put a hand to your forehead, leaning back with a huff. Sans jumped again, trying to back away to give you space. "Fuck! Sorry uh.." Sans muttered, and Alphys simply snickered and walked over to the free side of the bed that didn't have a bone boy perched on it. Softly fanning you with her clipboard. "It's okay Sans, it's the blood flow coming back to them. They shouldn't be showing anymore signs of the illness in the next 24 hours." Sans beamed at you, watching the color come back to your face slowly. "Guess I'm ya new medication hun. Take as needed." He snicked and slumped into the bed beside you, pulling you to his lap. You sunk into his large frame like a bean bag. You had no idea how it happened, but you were fine with the out come. "Dork.." You muttered as you snuggled into his chest.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XX

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, mentions of death, some elements untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: After weeks on the road, there isn’t much time left to prepare for what comes next.

Note: I typed Chapter 20 and I’m like huh? I never really expected or intended this to be more than a self-indulgent smut fic but one thing led to another and another and another and ... you know what I mean. Anyways, you all have been wonderful with you support and I’m not too cautious to say that this fic has brought me back to the days of Tapestry ;)

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

You, Zemo, Peter, and Elina were joined by only several servants in the single cart. Your luggage was sparse, with more gold and food than anything as the baron promised you would have all you needed at your destination.

Ulrich was sent off every other night to seek out news of any repercussions which had come of the scene left at Tower Zemo. All you’d heard since your departure was what you already knew; the castle had been abandoned by its natural occupants and the visiting duke was found unconscious in his bed.

Heinrich’s Creek was jarringly serene after your hectic weeks on the road. Your small party had finally made it up the mountain roads and woven around to the lakeside manor hidden in the sprawling forests. You were met by guards hidden in the wilderness who recognized your leader and let him past without conflict.

Finally still, you helped Melinda and Tess unpack what little you had brought along from the castle as Zemo put Elina to bed. It was only just afternoon but you were all worn from the road. You could take a breath after looking over your shoulder for all that time.

You went to the lake to bathe, the cool water cleansed you of the dust and stench of your journey. The same dress you’d worn that day you face Lord Rogers laid piled on the shore, flecks of his blood melded with the stains of your own sweat. You decided you would burn it as you limped through the dirt and wrapped yourself in the pale robe provided by your host.

You sat on the rock and played with your cane, tracing the carved lines with your thumb. You heard a step but did not turn. You stared instead at the calm ripples in the water and the distant drop off that flowed over the side of the mountains. The shadow neared and you saw Peter’s distorted reflection in the lake. His hair was dirty and mussed, his face streaked as yours had been.

“How did you do it?” he asked.

You spun the cane and crossed one arm across your stomach as you sighed, “I didn’t plan it. He did. I was ready to die.”

He didn’t say a word as he stepped closer to the water. He sat and pulled off his boots and socks. He shoved his feet into the shallows and closed his eyes. He held his head as he thought. As long as you had been on the road, there hadn’t been time to talk. You were all too concerned with going as fast as you could.

“I meant it, Peter, it wasn’t your fault,” you said softly, “I shouldn’t have ever made you think it was.”

“You say that but I can’t believe it,” he opened his eyes and leaned back on the heels of his hands, “I still see the pain in you. I saw it, I heard it when you went after Rogers. It’s in your step, written in your scars…”

“They did that, not you,” you insisted, “if I had any grudge against you, you’d meet the same as Rogers.”

He tapped his fingers in the dirt and chewed his lip. He wiggled his toes in the water as his thoughts wrinkled across his forehead, “how did it all begin?”

You swallowed and felt your throat tighten. You tried not to think of that day. It was so long ago but it was so plain in your mind that it felt as if you could shut your eyes and be back in that castle, pinned between Barnes and the hearth, your hand crawling over the mantle.

“I don’t… know,” you gripped your cane and rested it over your lap, “I never could figure out what I did--”

“You think it was your doing?” he asked.

“No, but… how can you even know what they did?”

“I can guess,” he shrugged, “I can imagine it and it makes my heart clench and my head pound. It makes me want to kill them and do just as bad to myself for being so naive and just thinking I could walk away--”

“It was never your problem, Peter,” you dropped the butt of your cane onto the ground and pushed yourself to your feet, “you were kind to me when I needed it. You did more than you think.”

You bent and grabbed your clothing from the dirt and slipped your feet into your clogs. He watched you sullenly and pulled his feet up as he leaned his arms on his knees.

 “If it had been different, could you have loved me?” he asked.

Your heart pulsed and you considered him, “could you have loved a simple maid?”

“That isn’t what I saw and that won’t change,” he said, “so?”

“I think I could have,” you hugged the bundle of clothing against your side, “if it had been different.”

“If,” he said and turned back to the water, “you might not think it, but I owe you and I will pay that debt. That little girl deserves it.”

“Thank you,” you uttered, “I’m sorry--”

“No, don’t be. Ever,” he said, “life never goes as you expect it and we have to live with what could have been, but we can’t change what is.”

“You can still go home--”

“I can’t. Rogers saw me there with you, I fled with you,” he rubbed his palms together, “and I don’t want to live among those wolves.”

You smiled grimly and backed away. You left him to watched the water and wash away his own worries. You made your way back up to the stone manor as you mulled over all that swirled around in your mind; the memories, the fears, the uncertainty.

And you returned again to that day when everything changed. You thought of the story you never told. A story none would know unless you did. A story your daughter deserved; that he deserved.

You put your clothes by the pit just outside the back entrance of the lakeside manse. You carried on into the dim kitchens and through the corridors to the front room where you’d left Zemo. He wasn’t there but the place was too big to go searching. You sat instead by the tall arched windows and looked out onto the blowing grass and swaying trees.

You didn’t know how long it was before he came. You barely heard him as he sat in the armchair to the other side of the sofa and you turned to look at him. He was freshly washed and plaintive. His dark eyes were tired but alert.

“Elina is still fast asleep,” he assured you, “I swear she even got bigger on the road here.”

“She’s growing quickly,” you said as you dropped your legs off the couch and folded your hands.

“You were waiting for me,” he affirmed and you nodded, “you have something to say?”

“I have to tell you… Elina has to know one day, even if I am gone, even if they are too, she has to know,” you felt the dampness in your eyes and inhaled deeply, “and I want you to know.”

He was sombre as he sat and watched you. He steepled his fingers before his lips and inclined his head to show he was listening. You thought of the men who’d never heard you, who never wanted to.

“I was just a chambermaid. You know that. It was… one night I did not see to his chambers and I sent one of the elder maids as she had difficulty with the broom. He found me, he did not like change. Rather, he never liked to feel out of control, I realise that now,” you blinked away tears and shifted on the sofa, “he waited and I thought nothing on it until…”

You sniffed and wiped your eyes in frustration, “I did not want to cry.”

“If you resist, it will be worse,” he stood slowly and came to you, cautiously as if he thought he would hurt you, “here.” He handed you a handkerchief and sat beside you, “go on in your own time.”

You blotted away the tears and gathered yourself, “when he acted on… his lust, I ran. I had to, I had struck him with a vase and I was terrified. I spent weeks in that forest…”

You went on, pausing as you were overwhelmed with bouts of anger, of despair, and panic. He was patient as he listened and you were not so embarrassed of your emotion. When you were done, when you go to all that he already knew, that he’d witnessed, you sat back and hid your face.

“Your tears do not make you weak,” he said, “you are brave to have said it aloud. I admire you, I always have.”

“I told you because I know that I won’t have another chance to tell anyone,” you lowered your hands and leaned back on the sofa, “I know you have your plan and I’m certain it will work but when it comes down to it, I will not stop until he is dead.”

His eyes searched your face. He knew what you meant, he knew what it would entail and that he could not stop you. And he was sad for it.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” you asked, “vengeance.”

“I do not think I truly weighed the cost,” he said as he hung his head and sagged against the couch beside you, “I do not think I stopped to think on what I--”

“Pardon,” Peter appeared from the corridor, “I’m not meaning to disturb but I thought to retire for the night and have not yet a place to do so.”

“Ah, yes,” Zemo regained his veneer in an instant as he spine straightened and he sat up, “I will have Tess--”

You all paused as you heard hooves and listened as they grew closer and closer. Zemo stood and looked out the window. He frowned and turned back to slip by Peter as he went to the front door. You rose with your cane in hand and watched as he let in Ulrich, the armoured guard was breathless from his ride.

“What is it?” Zemo asked pointedly.

“I… I have word that--”

“By the gods, sit,” Zemo ushered the man inside and offered him a stool. 

The man sat and drained the last of his skin before he steadied his breath. He pushed back his sweaty pale hair and leaned back against the wall as he looked between the three of you.

“They sent a messenger ahead. Quicker than the rest of the party,” he spoke carefully, “Lord Rogers cannot ride astride so they make slow progress but we have our men along the border and at court. King Lars has kept his own spies busy.”

“Lars knows I did not act out of foolery. He is a wise king, not daft enough to cast me out,” Zemo waved his hand at the thought, “but you have heard something?”

“Yes, I did confirm it with the king’s men, is what I’m saying,” Ulrich went on, “King Samuel received word of the assault on his man but a second messenger was sent.”

“And?” Zemo prodded.

Ulrich glanced at Peter who wore the same confusion that filled your core. “You are Lord Parker?”

“I am,” Peter answered.

“The second messenger went to Lord Barnes. On his way, he was given orders by Lord Rogers to seize a Benjamin Parker,” he shook his head and was overcome with pity, “the Lord Barnes did have him killed.”

“Killed?” Peter reeled as he grabbed his chest in shock, “No--no--”

“There is more,” Ulrich continued despite Peter’s dismay, “there is this.”

He untucked a folded page from his pocket and held it out. Barnes seal was broken on it and Zemo took it roughly.

“I had the messenger read it after we shackled him,” Ulrich explained, “in case… well, we cannot be certain in these times.”

“You did well,” Zemo said as he read and lowered the parchment. He handed it to Peter as he sighed, “Lord Barnes has taken Parker’s wife. He will keep her alive if we deliver… the maid.”

“I--” Peter stared at the letter and squinted in pain, “I--”

“I won’t let you--” Zemo began.

“I’ll go,” you said, “I’ll go. This is the way.”

“No,” Zemo turned to you, “I have a plan--”

“A plan that will take too long. Me and Peter, we’ll go, I’ll get his aunt,” you said, “I’ll do what I have to to keep Elina safe.”

“You think you truly can--”

“I don’t know what happens after but I know this is what I must do,” you turned to him and grabbed his arm to make him face you, “and I know you will keep our daughter safe.”

You pressed yourself against him and he met your lips in surprised welcome. He held you as you clung to the front of his tunic and drank you in eagerly, reluctant to part as you sensed the gazes of the other men.

“I am ready to go,” you let your hand trail down his tunic longingly as you raised your chin, “this will end. It has to end.”

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Eight / Ristretto

W/C: 5.1k (holy shit)

Warnings: language, arguments and tears, lots of feelings, Javier learns how to talk his feelings out, SMUT 18+, dirty talk, open discussion of sexual themes, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected PIV sex, f e e l i n g a

A/N: I went off with this one. hope y’all like it too ;)

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Ristretto: espresso made with about half the amount of water but the same amount of coffee as a regular espresso. ristretto in Italian means "restricted," or that the amount of water used to brew the espresso is restricted.

Javier’s on the couch, lying down with his back to the living room. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not; you can’t really see his face. It doesn’t matter. You’re a little hurt by the fact that he left you in your sleep to rest alone on the couch again. You thought you heard the shower running late last night, while you tossed in your sleep, and it seems that it wasn’t just a dream. Javier’s thick hair is still damp, leaving a wet spot on the pillow beneath his head.

You move about the kitchen, getting something to eat, and he doesn’t stir. He must be asleep, you conclude. Wrapped in a robe and leaning against the counter, you consider what you’ll say to him when he wakes. When you’re not even sure what you’re feeling, it’s hard to decide on the proper thing to say.

Maybe he planned on coming back to your bed before you woke. Maybe you moved too much in your sleep. Whatever the reason is, you feel slighted and offended. The whole time he’s been here, you’ve worried he doesn’t like you as much as you like him. Hell, you’ve said you love him and he didn’t say it back.

The insecurity begins to wrap itself around you like the warm material you wear. It’s stifling. What you want most is to walk over to the couch and shake him awake, to chew him out and demand to know his reasoning. But you know it’s stupid. There’s surely a valid reason, and this isn’t even that big of a deal anyway. The conflict of anger towards him and towards yourself makes you give a little grunt of frustration before you stalk off and back to bed. Maybe he’ll come back.

Sleep isn’t coming back, no matter how hard you try. Tossing and turning, you find yourself laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, your sheets strewn around your body from your fitful attempt to sleep again. Maybe it’s been ten minutes; maybe it’s been an hour. Your body is far too worked up to sleep, even as your brain commands it to relax, as you remind yourself that you’re being irrational.

Footsteps come from the living room. Javier’s awake. For now, you try to fake being asleep, pulling the blankets around yourself and rolling onto your side, facing away from the door. The footsteps make their way to the bathroom then into your bedroom, walking over that creaky spot in the floor that makes the boards groan.

You think you can hear him getting dressed; the drawer of your dresser opens, the one with a squeaky wheel, the one you cleared for Javier to use while he stays here. There’s a rustling of clothes. He’s changing into something other than his pajamas. There’s a little light in the room, the early hours of a December morning filtering their dull glow through your curtain.

He must still think you’re asleep or he’d be talking to you, you hope. The movement stops for a moment before footsteps fall on the floor, making their way closer to your bed. He stops and looks down at you, watches your presumed sleeping form before he kisses your forehead softly. His lips are gentle against your skin. The tickle of his mustache makes you want to chuckle, to sit up and kiss him properly. But as quickly as he bends down, he’s just as quickly gone from your room, shutting the door behind him.

You sit up and groan in annoyance. You can hear the front door open and close, and with that, Javier is gone.

That irrational part of your brain is worried he’s leaving permanently. Why else would he slip out while you’re still asleep? He’s yet to go anywhere, really, without you showing him the way around here. Then your rational brain takes over: he left all of his belongings besides the clothes on his back and his wallet when he left the apartment. He’s surely not going to leave everything behind.

You’d planned to spend the day doing something with him. The two of you hadn’t exactly decided on what, but it was implied that since you aren’t working today, you’d spend the time with him. It’s still somewhat early, you roll over and groan as the alarm clock reads it to be 8:00 AM. There’s still time for him to come back; maybe he’s just getting the both of you coffee.

It’s pure boredom, like watching paint dry. You want him to come back. You want to ask him why he didn’t stay in your bed last night, why he left this morning. Why he’s been gone increasingly long. The clock in your kitchen ticks, ringing into the living room with its annoying precision. Each little click of the second hand makes you want to smash that damn thing.

The hours pass and pass until it’s late afternoon. You’ve done nothing all day, waiting for Javier to return. You debate several times whether or not you should start a task, but then conclude he’ll probably be back soon. So you wait, watching the daytime television, reading a book, washing dishes. It’s all menial tasks, and eventually it’s 4:00 PM when he returns.

When he opens the door, his eyes find yours and his face falls. “Hi.”

“Where the hell were you?” You ask, standing and walking to him, arms folded beneath your breasts. “I have been waiting around all day for you. You’ve been gone for how long and didn’t even call or tell me you were leaving.”

“I didn’t leave a note?” He asks, face showing his confusion. “I thought I left a note.”

“No, you didn’t, Javier,” you tell him sharply, voice snappy and quick. “Why were you gone all day?”

“I could’ve sworn I left a note,” he mutters, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Javi,” you snap. “Just… where were you?” He doesn’t look at you, but then he does and his eyes show the fear and terror of an ashamed child. He mutters something you can’t hear.

“So the man who’s never held back a single thought is silent?”

“Avoiding you!” He finally bursts, tearing off his jacket and walking into the kitchen. His back is to you, too flustered to even look at you. “You are driving me fucking crazy and you don’t even know it.”

The words break your heart. You freeze in place and feel heat pricking in your eyes. It’s your worst fear. “I am?”

Javier turns at the weak sound of your voice, the panic setting in his chest. “No, no, not like that.” He rushes over to you, putting a hand on each of your forearms. “No, hey, look at me, baby. That is not what I meant. Not…”

“Then what?” You ask, face hot and body nearly trembling. You’ve never heard Javier mad before and you hate it, hate the way his voice sounds when it’s laced with anger and hate it even more when you can feel guilt in his tone. “What other way is there?”

He’s quiet for a moment as he collects his thoughts, and you’re just about to twist out of his arms and slap his face before he speaks. “Your… body. You.”

“What?” You ask again, desperately confused.

“God, you don’t even get it,” he laughs and stands up straight again, running his hands through his hair. “Do you not see how fucking hot you are? Do you not feel the way I’m literally aching for you?” He walks towards the couch and you follow. You’re about to ask the same question again before he turns to you and bites his lip. “I cannot get my fucking mind off how hot you are and it’s making me go fucking insane, baby.” He takes one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. Anything more intimate would make him burst.

The words make your body flush with a different heat, one building in your core first. “And how is that?”

“Do you know why I’ve been sleeping on the couch?” He asks, sitting down on the couch and you follow him. You shake your head. “Because of how bad I want to fuck you. I knew if I got in that bed with you I’d get turned on against my own will, and… I’m a fucking coward. I should’ve asked what you want, what-”

You cut him off. “Ask me now, Javi. Do it.”

He breathes deeply then looks at you. “I don’t even know how to ask it.”

“Try it.”

Another deep breath. “Do you want to…. are you ready to…” he winces at himself. Javier is one of the most widely known playboys in Bogotá and yet he can’t bring himself to ask you this. He can’t pull out his seductive voice because it’s you and he doesn’t want to fuck this up. “What do you feel for me? Are you… attracted to me… sexually?”

Looking at him in his eyes, staring into the beautiful brown, you force your thoughts to converge into something you can verbalize into words. This isn’t what you wanted from the day, but you suppose this talk had to come. “Well, I… I love you, Javi. You know that, right?” You ask, cupping his face.

He takes your palm and kisses it, nodding. “But… I don’t know if you really know who I am if you think that I don’t want you. I thought I’ve made it abundantly clear. I’m not some innocent little virginal thing, Javi. I’ve been thinking the same thing about you. That whole thing has got to be in your head, because I am extremely attracted to you. You’re so fucking hot, truly. I haven’t initiated anything because I’ve been waiting for you to. I thought you would. Hell, I would’ve slept with you on the first date if I didn’t have work in the morning,” you chuckle, though it’s hard to be humorous now, with the weight of a sob stuck in your throat. “You should’ve just asked me.”

Javier nods as he listens to your words, processing and internalizing the meaning behind them. He should’ve, and he’s about to say it but you speak. “Now… please. Tell me what you feel for me. Don’t hold it back.”

He gulps and looks at your hand, still wrapped in both of his, collecting his own scattered thoughts. “Well… you know I haven’t had a committed relationship in what, ten years? And I left that woman at the altar.” You’ve heard this story. He told you in full detail, everything that happened with Lorraine. “Then I went to Colombia. I’ve… God, I’ve lost track of how many women I fucked. Just whoever’s there, you know? But I never got to have a relationship with any of them, because I… well, I was scared. I didn’t wanna fuck up again. And Colombia’s not the place to have a love life anyway, not when you’re a government gringo trying to take down the guy a lot of the people actually fucking liked at first.”

“Javi,” you remind him. “Please… about me.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles awkwardly. “I guess… I wanted to fuck you at first, but I forced myself to think that I didn’t want to, so I didn’t ruin it and feel like I did with all the girls back there. Maybe... it’s been a long time since I was quizzed on it, but wasn’t the psych term for it called projection? When you imagine someone else having your feelings so you can deny that they’re your own?”

You nod, leaning against him and setting your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll stop the spiel. I’m being a pretentious asshole with it. I think you’re really attractive and I’ve been getting sexually frustrated because I thought you didn’t want to fuck me. But… I guess you do.”

This lets a real laugh resonate from your chest. “I do,” you chuckle, nuzzling in closer. “So… why didn’t you stay in my bed last night?”

He groans. “Fuck. You were just so close. I could feel your body and I felt disgusting for thinking the things I did about you. God, you had my arm squished between your tits, and I could feel you through your panties and pajama shorts… ”

“Is that why I heard the shower?”

“I’m 40 goddamn years old, and you’re so fucking hot you made me get turned on just by cuddling up to me,” he chuckles and kisses your head. “Like a teenager. I tried a cold shower to get rid of it but I couldn’t. So I took care of things myself and went to the couch to sleep because I felt that I didn’t deserve to sleep next to you.”

His words melt your heart. “Big sexy manwhore was too afraid to seduce me?” you tease.

“It was two in the morning. And, like I said, projection,” he chuckles.

“We’re dating, right? Together. You’re allowed to think about me like that, Javi,” you remind him, turning his chin to look at you. “In fact, I want you to.”

You’ve finally broken his will. The words do something to him, the way you said it… I want you to. For the first time with you knowing, his mind wanders and his eyes trace from your face to the soft skin of your neck, to your collarbones and the swell of your breasts. “I can do that,” he murmurs, feeling a chill rush through his body.

God, you could moan at the sound of his voice alone. “You’ve been holding back this long,” you mutter back, hands finding his shoulders as you pull yourself to straddle him. “Let go, Javi. Please.”

He’s so fucking close to doing it. His willpower is hanging by a thread, but he wants to be certain. “You’re sure?”

“Please,” you ask, the desperation in your voice emphasized by the look in your eyes, the way your hips involuntarily rock against his. You’ve never had a man look at you with the hunger and the ferocity in Javier’s eyes. You’ve never driven a man to jerk off in the shower at the thought of you, and it gives you a feeling of power and confidence to know he wants you like this.

Within a split second, the power is no longer yours. Javier takes your lips against his, kissing you with a passion and a fire burning in his chest. It’s harsh and sloppy but perfect, and you immediately submit to his wishes, grinding down onto his lap and moaning into his lips.

You’re too damn perfect. Your lips against Javier’s make him moan helplessly, the way you tug on his bottom lip with a teasing nibble and moan again as his tongue pushes into your mouth. You break away to look at him, to admire how far gone he is just from getting to grind on you, like a teenager again. “Can I show you how much I want you, Javi?” You ask, letting your voice drop lower and your tongue dart out to clean your messy lips.

He groans, unable to form words. He nods frantically, and you smile a little. Giving him one last sloppy kiss, you stand from his lap and get on your knees in front of him. “Is this okay, baby?” you ask, your fingers already undoing his belt buckle and sliding it out.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, and you can already see how hard he is through the jeans he wears. He helps you, unbuckling and unzipping the pants before lifting his hips to work them down to his knees, where he knows you can take them from there.

Daring to tug down the waistband of his boxers, you encircle his dick with your fingers and pull it out. You shudder at the sight, biting your lip and shifting your hips against the floor. He’s above average length, but the thickness makes you squirm in anticipation. “Javi,” you breathe, wetting your lips and gulping. You look up at him with big eyes. “You’re gonna make my jaw hurt,” you flirt, and the enthusiasm on your face makes him twitch in your hands.

It’s been a while since you’ve done this, but your excitement more than makes up for it. You reach up and undo the buttons of his shirt, while he lifts his hips again and wriggles his boxers off of his waist and thighs. Pushing the fabric aside, you’re exposed to a bit of pudge and his strong torso. God, is it awful that your first thought is to lick it? Who fucking cares, you think before you dive in, kissing his abdomen and tracing your tongue across the skin above his navel.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, baby,” he grunts and his head falls back against the couch, eyes slipping shut.

The taste of his skin is everything you want and need, the slight saltiness from sweat making your own core ache harder. Your hands grip his sides as you lavish his stomach and abs with kisses and licks, desperate and unable to get enough. You nip at his soft stomach and he hisses out a sharp exhale. He likes that; noted.

“God, I fucking love you, Javi,” you groan and grab his thighs, spreading them further so you can squeeze closer between them.

“Fuck, you too,” he groans and bites his lip as you press kisses to the base of his shaft, then smother the base with kisses and licks. It feels good, but nowhere as good it would be if you- “oh, dulzura,” he grunts as you finally give attention to the tip, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin before swirling your tongue around it.

He lets himself lean back and enjoy it. He’s received a lot of head in his day, from a lot of women, but what makes this the best he’s ever fucking had is the adoration in your eyes, the look of mischief as you trace his frenulum with your tongue just to see him squirm. You’re enjoying it just as much and that’s half of it.

His fingers dig into your hair, his back arching when you do something different. The next time you pull away, he keeps your head back, off of him. “Your bed. Wanna fuck you, pretty girl, wanna make love to you.” Your face is desperate, yearning for him endlessly. “Make love to me later. Fuck me first.”

The words go to Javier’s already aching dick. He stands quickly, pulling you up with him and lifting your shirt, tossing it aside and letting his hands finally grab your breasts through your bra.

“Thought you said bed.”

“Give me a second. Take your pants off while I do this.”

“Do what- Javi!” Javier unclasps your bra, which buckles in the front, and shoves it off, desperate to see your tits. “Mm, fuck,” he murmurs, admiring the things that have been taunting him since he very first saw you. Javier’s fingers tug at your nipples, pulling them to their hardened state, before pressing your tits together and burying his face in them.

He returns the favor of you admiring his body, licking and nipping and kissing at the soft skin, kneading them with expert hands. You’re too in the moment, enraptured by the way he works your breasts, but you come back to consciousness for a moment and wriggle off your pants and panties like he asked.

His tongue is masterful, swirling and licking your sensitive nipples in a way that makes you ache to wonder what that same motion would feel like between your legs. The feeling is too good, Javier adoring your body and practically worshipping it. He breaks away with a face slick from his own spit on your breasts and smirks. “Now bed. Wanna see if you taste just as good somewhere else.”

“Fuck, Javi,” you groan and pull him into a heated kiss, frenzied and passionate. You break away but keep him close and walk him to your bedroom, flopping on your back on the bed and waiting for him to follow.

He does, getting on the bed’s edge and lying flat on his stomach, spreading your thighs and nestling between them. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper as you realize he’s going to return the favor.

His lips ghost along the soft skin of your inner thigh, sucking bruises into the flesh that make you squirm and moan. His hair is thick but so beautifully soft beneath your fingers, and you bury your hands in it as he gets closer to where you want him. “Please, Javi,” you murmur.

“Anything for you, abejita,” he chuckles and licks a hot stripe from your entrance to your clit, latching on the sensitive bud and swirling his tongue over it. “So wet,” he muses, your folds muffling the sounds. It translates to a vibration between your legs that makes you shiver again.

He takes his time with you, letting his mouth explore every little millimeter of the sensitive skin there. He laps through your folds, your own wetness and his spit making it painfully easy for it to glide through. Finally, when he brings his fingers into it, you make a groan of relief. His fingers trace your entrance, slowly, around the rim. Teasing. “Javi, if you made my jaw sore, you better get me ready down there,” you laugh, love drunk on this man, on Javier Peña and everything the man has to offer.

“‘m trying,” he murmurs, slowly slipping a finger in and marveling at the glide. “God, you’re so tight,” he shivers, his own hips rocking into the bed at the thought of his dick buried inside this. “Gonna take me so well, aren’t you?”

His finger curls softly, experimentally, and you know you’re in for it now when it immediately hits the spongy spot inside. “Holy- oh fuck, Javi,” you pant, one hand gripping the sheets. “Right there.”

Javier smirks. “I’ve barely done anything to you. Look at this.” He slips a second finger in and you groan again, your head falling back into the pillow and your back arching.

There’s the late afternoon sunlight coming in through the slats in your shades, falling onto your bare breasts and Javier’s muscular back. The light is fading, the December sunset already approaching. God, he looks so good doing this, all you can do is whine his name again and again.

It doesn’t take long once he has two fingers inside of you, working them against that perfect spot and bringing his lips back to praise your clit. He can feel your body tense, your thighs tighten around his head. God, you could probably crush him like this, maybe smother him, but he can’t think of a better way to go. This is how he wants to die someday: his head buried between your thighs, tasting the most divine thing his tongue has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You come with little fanfare, but Javier can feel it in the way your body moves. Your thighs spread wider, shaking, and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your back arches and the soft noises you’ve been making slowly dissipate as it all fades.

He works you through it then looks at you with a smirk, licking his lips and the bottom of that goddamn mustache. “That thing is fitting,” you tease, stroking his damp mustache. “You have a tongue like a damn porn star.”

“Then just wait until you feel what else I have for you,” he teases, crawling over you until his hands are on either side of your head. You laugh and reach up to kiss him, groaning at the taste of your own tang on his lips. He’s such a fantastic kisser. You could just make out with him for hours, admiring the softness of his lips even when they’re slightly chapped.

Reaching over blindly, you fumble for your nightstand and reach into the drawer to find a box of condoms. You have to break away, but you return to him with one and hold it up, grinning. He snatches it from you and steals one last kiss before tearing it open with his teeth, tossing the packet aside and rolling the condom down over himself.

Javi kisses you again, deeply. Meaningfully. “You sure about this, little bee?” He asks, voice blown with lust, painfully hard from denying himself sensation while eating you out.

“I haven’t wanted anyone more,” you smirk. “But remember what I said earlier?” You tease, cocking an eyebrow and tracing your fingers across his jaw.

“That you love me?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“That we can take our time later. Now I want you to fuck me, please, baby.”

The words send a shiver down his spine and he nods. “If that’s what you want. I… I won’t hold back.”

“Give me your worst,” you smirk and kiss him hard.

He wastes no time. He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes in, burying himself to the base and grimacing at how good it feels, how much effort it takes for him not to lose it. He takes a minute, taking deep breaths. “You feel okay?”

He’s thick. There’s no denying it. Even with his fingers before, this is a different stretch. It’s aching but in a good way, in a way that makes you desperate to feel it. “Feel so fucking good already,” you admit, kissing his neck.

Once he’s ready, he begins. He starts with a rhythm that already makes you lose your senses, desperately clinging to the only thing you can think of or feel: him. His dick is large, and presses against just the spot that made you lose it minutes ago. His thrusts are not gentle, but rough and grinding. You can’t get enough.

His pace picks up. His hips snap into yours, moving a thick thumb to circle your sensitive clit with the pad of his finger. “You feel so fucking good, lil’ bee,” he breathes. His Texan accent from his upbringing is more present when he’s sleepy, you’ve noticed, but also when he’s extra turned on. Fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard.

“God, fuck,” you whine and cling to him, wrapping a leg around his waist and crying out as that allows him to get even deeper inside of you. “Javier, please baby,” you mutter, your hands frantically grabbing at his muscular back.

“You got it,” he grunts, each syllable in time with a thrust that pushes into you deeper and deeper. Your nails dig into his back unintentionally and he whines at the feeling, the pain and pleasure mingling perfectly. “Fuck, pretty girl. So fuckin’ good, taking me so perfectly. Like you were meant for this, huh?”

Whatever sense you have left agrees. You must’ve been. The universe put you two together in a surprising way so that you could feel this heavenly joining of bodies, so you can make each other see the farthest stars in the galaxy. “Yeah, oh Christ, Javi,” you groan as his fingers work in the opposite direction on your clit. “Harder, please.”

“I’ll try,” he chuckles dryly, wrapping your other leg around his waist. The position keeps him connected to you even when his thrusts nearly pull him fully out of you. “You like that?”

“Fucking love it, Javi,” you nod and grind your hips back against him and his hand. The friction makes him hiss, desperate for anything you’ll give. “Think I’m close. Think I’m gonna- oh,” you whimper, leaning up to grab his face and pull it down to yours.

He knows you’re coming quick. His lips remain on yours, determined to feel it when it happens. And it does fast- before long, you’re clamping down on him like a fucking vise and you make the prettiest little sounds into his mouth, muffled by his wandering tongue. He groans back, your thoughts passing through mouths rather than ears.

“Good girl,” he groans next to your ear. “Fuck. You make me feel so fucking good, knew you would.” He thrusts harder, and you’re becoming oversensitive but you couldn’t care less. He’s made this all about your pleasure, and he deserves to use you now.

The corners of your eyes prick with overstimulation. “Javi, baby, wanna feel you when you cum,” you beg of him. You dig your nails into his back and it’s the final straw- his hips slow and stutter as he shoots his load into the condom, moaning your name again and again.

When he comes down, he nearly collapses on you, his body like lead as the adrenaline works its way through his veins. He’s all fucked out, exhausted from how long he held back to pleasure you as much as he could. “Mm, baby,” you giggle, digging your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. His face is nestled into your neck and you smile, kissing his temple. He makes a soft noise of content. “Don’t fall asleep or the condom is gonna stick to your penis,” you tease lovingly.

With a groan, Javier sits back on his heels. He makes his way to the bathroom and tosses it in the trash, then gets a warm washcloth to wipe you down with. He takes good care of you, leaving kisses behind the warm water-soaked fabric. He finishes with a kiss on your lips that makes you giggle.

“You’re too good to me. What happened to the slut of Bogotá I’ve heard about?”

“He died with Escobar, maybe?” He chuckles, returning to your bed with you. “Or maybe I forgot to pack him. I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you chuckle. “I absolutely adore this one.” You snuggle into his side, against his flushed and tacky skin.

He kisses your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then your lips. “You really are something, abejita.”

“You know, you’re allowed to call me babe and baby too,” you tease softly, your voice barely a whisper with Javier’s face next to yours.

“Those are generic. Little bee is ours.”

His words melt your heart, making your eyes slip shut and your lips curve into a smile in content. You rest your head on his chest and take a deep sigh.

“I really want to fall asleep, but it’s only 5:15,” Javier sighs.

“How about dinner? Are you hungry?” You ask, tracing your fingers across his soft abdomen and gentle tummy.

He thinks for a second. “How about we get delivery?”

“You read my mind, Peña,” you chuckle and place a soft kiss on his pec. “I love you.”

He takes a deep breath, forces all of the fear to leave his body with the carbon dioxide. “I love you too, abejita.”

-

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[writings-of-a-british-fangirl]

Everything Has Changed [Zuko x Reader]

Title: Everything Has Changed Summary: Even after returning to the Fire Nation, you weren't happy. Zuko on the other hand seemed to be having a lot better time. Maybe, he would be better off without you here, ruining his happiness. Warnings: A little bit of angst? Request: N/A

A/N: This wasn't requested, but I've been rewatching ATLA recently because it's been added onto Netflix and I'm feeling inspired <3

PART 1: EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED PART 2: CHANGE IS GOOD PART 3: CHANGING SPIRITS PART 4: A HEART OF CHANGE

Zuko~Everything Has Changed

You'd been Zuko's best friend for as long as you could remember. And, although the friendship hadn't always been easy -the Prince had quite a famous temper- you couldn't even imagine a world in which you weren't friends. This is why the inner turmoil you were feeling inside was making you feel all the more guilty.

     You had returned back to the Fire Nation when Zuko had reclaimed his honour by fighting the Avatar along with his sister, Azula. Since you didn’t side with the Avatar and the 'traitor' Iroh, you'd been welcomed back with open arms. However, it wasn't quite the life you were expecting. You were still happy for Zuko! Of course- this is what he'd always wanted. In fact, you'd always supported Zuko in his journey to find the Avatar but something about this felt wrong. Especially since Aang had helped Zuko's uncle, Iroh, to find and rescue Zuko from the caves under Ba Sing Sai.

     So, now you were stuck in a very difficult position.

    It had almost been a month since you and Zuko had returned to the Fire Nation, and yet you'd barely spoken a word to each other. Once, you had felt like he was the only soul in the universe that understood you completely… And, now? It felt like you didn’t even know him. He'd been far too busy celebrating the fact he was now recognised as the Crown Prince. You'd also noticed that he'd been spending more time with Mai- along with Azula and Ty Lee.

    That didn’t sit right with you. As long as you live, you promised yourself you would never trust Azula. Where she was involved, it meant trouble. She was the type of person that always had an ulterior motive- even when there didn't seem a need for one.

     And, as for Ty Lee and Mai, you just saw them as Azula's attack dogs. Not that she needed help fighting people, but you couldn't exactly call them her friends. Azula didn't have friends. That required her to care about other people. The only way she knew how to relate to people was through fear. Yet another reason you found to keep as far away from her as possible.

     Zuko seemed to be doing the same to you. Maybe him and Azula were more alike than you thought.

     You had gone down to the Royal Gardens for some peace. As much as the 'Hero's Welcome' was a good ego booster, it wasn't good for the soul. And, right now you were doing some serious soul searching. You'd helped the Fire Nation. You'd fought the Avatar. You should feel good. Right? Except you didn’t, you felt awful. When Aang was shot down, all you could see was a child. A 12 year old kid who hadn't chosen this role in the world. Who was just trying to survive. Who was trying to help the universe.

     Sighing, you put your head in your hands. What had you done? What had Zuko done? You thought of Uncle Iroh… How you had betrayed him. You told yourself that you were doing it to survive, that you couldn’t survive a Fire Nation Prison, but the truth was that you were a coward. A coward who couldn’t do the right thing.

     You hadn’t realised you had started crying until your tears had slipped down your cheeks. Quickly, you wiped them away. Crying was weakness.

     Your attention was caught by a small turtle duck quacking loudly. He appeared to be suck in a weed within the pond, meaning he was separated from his family. You could sense his distress from where you sat. Gently, you moved to the little creature, and slowly removed the weeds from around the turtle duck. Hurriedly, he swam to his mother, who welcomed him immediately. You watched the family of ducks swim happily away. Together. Loved.

     "Why can't I just be like you, little turtle duck?" you murmur to yourself, "You seem so happy. I wish I could feel like that again."

    It was only then you noticed how dark it had gotten. It was best to return to your room before the guards started asking questions- and 'suggesting' you return to safety. Despite being welcome in the palace, it felt more like a prison.

   What you hadn't realised while you had been sat in the gardens, was that you hadn't entirely been alone. Zuko had walked past the entrance to the caught yard and you had caught his eye. At first he saw a glimmer of his mother sitting by the pond. She had always loved animals, especially feeding the turtle ducks. But then his vision cleared and he had seen you. It made his heart sink. He hadn't spoken to you in weeks. He didn't entirely know why…

     Zuko watched you disappear out of the garden and down the corridor… Away from him.

     He hated to admit it but being back in the Fire Nation wasn't bringing him the happiness he thought it would. His honour had technically been restored and yet he was feeling more ashamed than ever.

     Part of him wanted to follow you; the other half knew he should visit Mai as he had promised earlier. The latter part of him won, but he couldn't help but look back in your direction. As soon as he reached Mai's room, he knocked softly.

     "Hey, what took you so long?" Mai asked, dragging him into the room, "I thought you'd never show up."

     "Ah," Zuko let out, "I didn’t- I just got caught up. That's all."

     "Whatever," Mai smiled.

     As much as Zuko wanted to enjoy his girlfriend's company, you were still nagging on his mind. Even when Mai was speaking, he was still thinking back to you. How sad you looked. How guilty he felt about ignoring you. Mai started noticing how distant Zuko was being.

    "Okay, what's going on?"

     "Nothing," Zuko said defensively.

    "What's with you? You don’t have to snap at me. I was just asking a question," Mai replied, leaning away and folding her arms.

     Zuko sighed.

    "I'm sorry. I'm just tired," he said, "I need to go. We'll talk tomorrow."

     Mai attempted to reply but Zuko was gone.

---

You'd been inside your head for the past hour. It was as if everything was slowly coming together. You knew what you had to do now. It wouldn’t be easy- but when was the right thing to do ever easy? Some part of you broke knowing you'd have to leave Zuko behind but in the end you couldn't let him control your destiny- not when he seemed to want no part in your future.  

     You began packing as quickly as you could. Throwing a few items of clothing into a bag as well as some medicine, basic hygiene products and a blanket. You didn't know where you were going but you knew you had to get out.

     Just as you finished packing, you heard a knocking at the door.

    "Hello?" you reply after a moment of hesitation.

    Zuko hesitated.

    "Who's there?" you replied, walking closer to the door.

    With one hand you slowly began opening the door, with the other you had a small flame building. It never hurt to take a precaution when living in a place like the Fire Nation.

    You fully opened the door and saw Zuko: you were stunned for a moment.

    "Zuko?" you asked.

    Gently, you let your hand drop, and the flame went out with it. You opened the door and walked back into your room, leaving it open to Zuko whether he was going to follow or not. He was surprised at your lack of response. He was expecting you to cry at him or yell at him, but there was nothing.

    He followed you into your room and shut the door behind you.

    "Don't you want to know why I'm here?" Zuko asks.

    "I don't think it's going to matter much longer," you tell him, "I don't think anything you're about to say is going to matter much longer, Prince Zuko."

    "Prince Zuko?" he repeated, "You've never called me that. Not even when we were kids."

    "Yeah, well things have changed since then."

    "For the better!" Zuko insisted, "You're telling me you preferred it when we were sailing in the frozen South Pole for weeks at a time than being a war hero in your own nation? You can't be serious?"

     "Maybe I did."

    "You can't be serious! I- We were miserable!"

   "Maybe you were! I wasn't!" you yelled at him, walking closer to him, "I had my best friend! I don't even know who you are anymore! You haven't spoken to me in weeks!"

   "Y/N, I-"

    "-No! Don't Y/N me!" you snapped at him, pressing a finer to his chest, "I was there for you. I never stopped believing in you. I never left your side. But, the moment you get back here, the moment you have your precious honour back, you forget I even exist!"

   Zuko was silent.

   "And, the saddest part is that I waited for you," you murmured, all your anger gone, "I waited. I thought maybe you're just busy, off doing Prince stuff. But, then I saw you with Mai. Even Azula. And, I knew something had changed. I thought I was your friend; that we had a friendship that was unbreakable. But, now I see you were just using me as a replacement. As a place holder."

   "No," Zuko cried out, "That's not true."

   You turned away, trying not to let him see your tears building.

   "Then tell me why I feel this way. A stranger in my own nation. A prisoner in my own nation."

   "I'm sorry… I didn't think-"

   "-No you didn't think."

   Zuko tried to reach out towards you. And, then he noticed your bag on your bed. It was full and there was items strewn around your room. Something was going on.

   "Y/N, what are you doing? What do you mean it's not going to matter anymore?"

  "I'm leaving."

   "You can't."

   "I have to."

   "You can't leave me here, please," Zuko pleaded.

   "You'll be just fine," you sadly smiled, "You haven't needed me since you got back. I'm sure you won't even notice I'm gone."

    "That's not true!" Zuko argued.

   "Then what is the truth?"

   "The reason… The reason I couldn’t talk to you… Is because every time I looked at you I was remined of that day in Ba Sing Sei," Zuko murmured, "I… I've realised I made the wrong decision that day. Looking at you just reminded me I didn't need to be in the Fire Nation to be home. I just needed you."

   "Oh, Zuko."

   "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I truly am. I'll do anything to make it up to you. Anything."

   "Leave with me."

   "I want to leave," Zuko promised, "But it needs to be the right time. The solstice."

   "I'll wait," you agreed, "But promise me something."

   "Anything."

   "Promise me things will be different this time. I'm tired of fighting against the world's last hope. I'm tired of not doing the right thing."

   "I know my destiny now. My uncle helped me see the light," Zuko said quietly, "I know what I must do now. I'm going to find the Avatar, and I'm going to help him defeat the Fire Lord."

   "Not 'I'. We. I'm coming with you."

    Zuko nodded at you. And, for the first time in what felt like forever he had hope.

[reidamancy]

why won’t you love me || spencer reid

summary: As Spencer’s cases continue to drive a wedge between you, you soon realize after a heartbreaking decision that the seeming demise of your relationship wasn’t caused by what you thought it was. (spencer reid x gn!reader)

Based on the song Why Won’t You Love Me by 5 Seconds of Summer. 

category: angst

warnings: none

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this is my entry for @veraiconcos​ vicficwriterchallenge!! this also happens sometime after s13 so although there aren’t any spoilers, there are references to something that happens in the later seasons :)

MASTERLIST

Spencer leaned his head on the window of the jet as it took off, watching the ground slowly disappear beneath him. He droned out the voices of his team as they discussed the new case, staring at the diminishing lights of the city instead. He couldn’t get himself to contribute; his mind was preoccupied with how he left your relationship that morning.

He should have seen it coming. As your small, petty fights began to add up, he should have known it would have escalated to this: a screaming match with tears and yells echoing through your shared apartment, leading to the two of you going to bed with no resolution, separated by the walls of your home.

And before the sun had risen, Spencer was called on a case and he was gone once again.

He knew his absence would only fuel the fire of your frustration, but what was he supposed to do? He didn’t have the luxury of ignoring calls from work, and although all he wanted was to stay and make things right between you, he had a case to solve.

He let out a sigh, holding back his tears. He tried once again to read the file in his hands, but his mind couldn’t stop thinking about you. He let his mind wander, thinking about how you’d feel when you’d wake up to an empty apartment. How could he ever make it up to you? 

Spencer shook away his thoughts once more and concentrated on the file in front of him. If he was going to do this, he had to pretend the two of you were alright. He just hoped you’d be good until he got back.

As Spencer switched his phone to airplane mode, he was met with your face on his lockscreen, smiling back at him. He subconsciously smiled back. Seeing the happiness on your face put him at ease, even if it was only temporary. He found comfort in the picture, hoping he could bring that smile back on your face when he got back.

---

When you awoke that morning, you were met with an empty apartment. You let out a scoff as you paced around your apartment, looking for a note, sign, anything he could have left behind. But all you found was an empty space where his go bag should have been. Of course. He was off on a case, with the worst possible timing.

You sighed as you sank into the couch, looking over at Spencer’s neatly folded blanket placed on the arm. You ran your fingers over the fabric as you pulled out your phone. Before your mind could even comprehend what you were doing, your fingers had already dialed his number. You weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him, and as you held your phone up to your ear, your heart began to race in anticipation of his answer.

You didn’t know if you were mad at him for leaving again or sad that he didn’t say goodbye. Sure, there was tension between the two of you, but he could have at least said something, right?

The loud ringing on the line continued for what seemed like forever. After an eternity, his chirpy voice answered the line.

“Hi!”

“Spencer,” you started, but you were interrupted.

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone at the moment, please leave a message after the beep!”

You scoffed and hung up before the beep sounded. Voicemail. Of course. You should have known better. As if you weren’t upset before, this missed call only reignited the flame that had died overnight. 

You went about the rest of your day with no word from Spencer. At first, you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and thought that perhaps he was still on the jet. But after hours had passed and even the longest of flights would have landed, you gave up on hearing from him.

The radio silence was bittersweet. It left you alone with your thoughts, allowing you to cool off and be more level-headed. The only problem was, it left you alone with your thoughts. And as you reflected on your feelings, for the first time, you began to question your relationship with Spencer.

As you were about to sleep that night, your ringtone sounded from your nightstand. When you rolled over to answer it, you weren’t surprised to see it was a long overdue call from Dr. Reid himself. Seeing his name brought your blood back to a boil and your frustration was evident as you curtly answered, “Spencer.”

On the other side of the line, Spencer winced at your tone. “Hey Y/N.”

Your body sank at the softness in his voice. Upon hearing it, you felt your body relax as the anger slowly dissipated. You sighed, hating the immediate effect Spencer had on you. With just two words, he had entirely changed your mood, leaving you with the yearning that had previously been masked.

“I wasn’t sure you’d still be up.” He said after a long pause.

“You caught me just in time.” You laid back on the bed. “I called you.”

He sucked in a breath. “I saw. I’m sorry Y/N, I must’ve forgotten to turn off airplane mode.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the small smile on your lips betrayed your true feelings. You then let out a sigh, not wanting to discard your previous frustrations. “You could’ve at least left a note or something.”

“I... I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.” Spencer replied, voice weak.

His words made you sit up on the bed. “You can always talk to me, you know that, right?”

On the other side, all the tension left Spencer’s body, the reassurance bringing a smile back on his face.

When you heard his sigh of relief, you collapsed back down on your bed and smiled at the ceiling. “When are you coming home?”

“Soon. Two days, maybe? This should be an open and shut case. We have a textbook definition of a sexual sadist on our hands and-” He stopped after hearing your low giggle. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear about this before you sleep.” Spencer nervously laughed. He took a breath before saying, “Y/N, about last night-”

He was interrupted once again, but this time by a voice in the background, presumably Hotch’s, saying, “Reid, we need you.”

You sighed into the phone.

“Y/N-”

“No, go, they need you.” An exasperated sigh left your lips as a sad smile adorned your lips.

On the other side of the line, Spencer closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Y/N,” he sighed. “I love you.”

You let out a breath as he quickly hung up.

“I love you too.” You whispered into the dead line.

You placed your phone back on your nightstand as a new wave of loneliness encompassed you. Just as quick as his voice left, so had the serene feelings he gave you. And suddenly you were surrounded by the empty feeling that you had become too accustomed to. 

---

It took more than two days for Spencer to come home. Turns out the case wasn’t as textbook as he thought. And with the extra days, you were given time to process everything.

It wasn’t easy. Actually, it was the hardest decision you’ve made in your life. You had been thinking about it for a while, but actually going through with it was an entirely different story. But as you reflected on your relationship in Spencer’s absence, you knew it had to be done.

Tears streamed down your face with every article of clothing you tossed into the suitcase. Every single one of them brought back memories of your relationship with Spencer. From the shirt you wore on your first date, to the sweater you’d cry yourself to sleep in when you were alone. Spencer Reid gave you the highest of highs but when he left, it felt like the steepest crash.

As you were zipping up your case, the door opened and Spencer had walked in. You quickly wiped the tears off your face as you turned to face him.

Spencer’s go bag dropped with a thud when he saw your packed suitcase. “Y/N?” 

You bit your lip as his gaze went from your suitcase to you, then back again.

“What is all this?” He asked, desperately scanning your face. 

The tears returned and welled in your eyes as you croaked, “I, I can’t do this anymore Spencer.”

He was quick to rush over to you, instinctively raising his arms to hold you, but lowered them after second thought. “Y/N, please.” He begged as his eyes also welled with tears.

You shook your head, words escaping you as tears left your eyes. Your gaze shifted towards the ground as you leaned against your suitcase. 

“Y/N...” Spencer started. He gulped as his mind searched for the right words. “I’m sorry it took longer than expected, I thought...” He trailed off, blinking the tears out of his eyes as you continued to avoid his gaze. “Were you really gonna leave without saying anything?” He eyed the suitcase behind you once more. “If I,” he stuttered. “If I had come home later, would you have left? Just like that?”

You immediately shook your head. “No, of course not!” You looked up at him to show your sincerity. But you couldn’t deny that you’d thought about it. It would’ve been easier to leave before he came back and avoid this confrontation. And maybe a small part of you wanted to leave him the way he left you. But he didn’t deserve that.

“Why?” Spencer’s voice came out as a cry, and he used his hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

You took a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore, Spencer. The fights, the one-letter texts, it’s draining, Spence. And you’re just, you’re never here.”

Tears fell steadily from Spencer’s eyes as he said, “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. I can stay, I can sit out a few cases, I can...” His voice trailed off.

You shook your head. “You said that last time. Then you were gone again when I woke up.”

The previous argument flashed in both your minds simultaneously. You recalled Spencer’s words, dripped in venom as they screamed, “What do you want me to do, Y/N?! Stay here while people are dying?! Sit out when the team needs me?!”

“I need you too, Spencer!” You had screamed back.

Both of you blinked the tears out of your eyes, the rest of that night coming back to you. When the screaming and yelling had subsided, Spencer desperately tried to assure you he’d be home more often, but you knew they were nothing but empty promises. And the next morning proved you right.

And now as you stared at the man in front of you, you realized the same song was playing, just in a different tune. There will always be another case. And Spencer will always be on that plane instead of next to you.

“It’s just so hard to be lonely.” You sighed.

Spencer turned from you and stepped back. He shook his head and ran his fingers through this hair. “No, Y/N, it’s hard,” he stopped himself, clearing his throat. “It’s hard to leave you here alone, knowing you could be a target at any given moment.” He sighed, stepping towards you once again. “I make so many dangerous enemies because of my job and when I’m out solving cases... I’m not here to protect you.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s hard for me too, Y/N. But we both make sacrifices to make this work.”

“Every time you walk out that door, I’m scared you won’t come back.” You admitted, crossing your arms.

Spencer stepped closer to you as he whispered, “And every time I leave, I’m scared you won’t be here when I get back.”

His words made your lip quiver. You lowered your eyes in shame, realizing that you’re making his fears a reality.

“If I asked you to stay... would you?” Spencer asked.

You sighed. “It doesn’t work like that, Spence. You can’t just undo the last few weeks by asking.”

His eyes darted towards your suitcase once again then he sighed. “No, Y/N, if I, if I could change things, and make it right, would you stay?” He let out a shaky breath before whispering, “Or have I lost you forever?”

His words caused a whimper to escape your lips. “Spencer,” you cried. “When you’re gone, I miss you so much, and I worry about you all day. But when you’re here, we fight and avoid each other, and it’s like you’re gone again. It’s not healthy, Spence. I need a break.”

Spencer sniffled and quietly asked, “How long have you been thinking about this?”

You chewed your lip, thinking of ways to delicately answer his question. “Did you know Sydney got engaged last month?” You asked after a pause.

Spencer sighed. It didn’t take a profiler to know the timeline of your fights coincided with your best friend’s engagement. But he kept quiet as he looked to you to finish.

You looked down and fiddled with your thumbs as you continued, “I was happy for her, of course. But it got me thinking... and looking into my own life, and I don’t know.” You sniffled. “I always thought I’d be married by this age and well,” You looked up to see his face, but his eyes remained on the floor between your feet. “It felt like we were at a stalemate.”

Spencer brought his eyes up to look at you now, and you scanned his face but were unable to tell what he was thinking. You sighed and said, “I didn’t see us going anywhere and I can’t wait, Spence. I need to make a change.”

He visibly swallowed and nervously asked, “Do you want to?”

“Want to?”

“Did you want to go somewhere? With me?”

You let out a small laugh at his awkwardness before promptly responding, “Of course I do, Spencer. But as soon as I realized that, you started to drift away. We talked less, cuddled less, and suddenly we kept fighting... And it just wasn’t the same anymore.”

Spencer lowered his head. “So I’ve lost you?” He softly asked, so quiet you almost missed it.

You shook your head and cupped his face. “No, no Spencer. I’ll always be yours.” You let out a sigh before admitting, “Every night when I close my eyes, I imagine I’m with you on the other side.”

Spencer brought a hand up to wrap around your wrist and used his thumb to rub the back of your hand. He gazed into your eyes and said, “So why won’t you love me?”

The tears in your eyes flowed down your cheeks at his words. “I do love you.” You brought your teary eyes up to look at him. “That’s the problem, Spencer. I love you so much, it hurts. It physically hurts, Spence.”

“But you’re still leaving.” He concluded.

You bit your lip. I don’t want to, you almost said. But before you could think of the right words to say, Spencer softly asked, “Can I show you something?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, but nodded. He gently grabbed your wrist and led you to his side of the bedroom. You took a seat on the bed as he rummaged through his nightstand. He nervously fumbled through the clutter before he finally found what he was looking for, hiding it behind his back as he took a seat next to you on the bed. 

Spencer took a deep breath before explaining, “I got this a little over a month ago. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I never found the right time. Then the fights started happening... and now it seems there never will be a right time.” He took his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small velvet box.

You gasped and felt your heart still in your chest. “Spencer,” you whispered. He opened the box to reveal a diamond ring, and tears streamed down your face just at the sight of it. Your hands went to cover your mouth as you silently cried.

“I don’t want you to think I’m showing you this just because I want you to stay. But I feel like I owe you an explanation for the past few weeks.” Spencer gulped before saying, “I want to marry you, Y/N.” He paused for a second, looking in your eyes to see your reaction before continuing, “But I guess I got nervous around you and I might’ve subconsciously drawn away from you.”

You slowly nodded and whispered, “Just like I did to you after Sydney.”

You smiled at each other through your tears.

Spencer sighed as he held the ring closer to you. “I still want that future with you, Y/N. Even after all of this, I still love you and I can’t see myself with anyone else.” He chewed nervously on his lip. “But if you can look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want the same, you can walk out that door tonight, and we can both forget this ever happened.”

Your hands left your face and wrapped around his free one, squeezing it in reassurance. “Spencer Reid, I love you with my whole heart.” You looked into his eyes and said, “And I want that future with you, too.” He smiled back at you. “But I can’t go back to missing you every night.” 

Spencer was quick to respond with, “I can stay. I can request more teaching hours, or consult the team from home.”

You gave him an empty look, hearing those words countless times before.

“I mean it, Y/N.” He looked down at the ring in his hands. “I can do my job without being in the field.”

“Would you be happy with that, though?” You questioned. “Spencer, I know you love your job, I know how badly you want to be out there. This,” you lightly tapped on the ring. “This means nothing if you’re not happy.”

Spencer brought his eyes back up to you and said, “I actually really like teaching.” He smiled. “And as long as I have you, I will be happy.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you blushed at his words. The sincerity in his eyes caused you to fall into his shoulder and sigh into the crook of his neck. Spencer timidly whispered, “Please stay. I can’t see my life without you in it.”

You sat back up to look him in the eyes and nodded. “Okay.” You whispered.

He beamed at you.

You smiled at him before playfully rolling your eyes. “Why do we hold on to each other like this?”

Your faces inched closer as Spencer whispered, “I wish I could tell you, my love.”

Your lips met in a passionate kiss. The remnants of tears fell down both your faces as your lips molded into each others. Your arms went behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. One of his arms hugged your waist and rested on your lower back, the other still holding the ring in his lap. You hummed against his lips, missing the way they felt against yours after weeks of negligence. After a while, you brought a hand down to gently close the ring box, causing Spencer to pull away. 

“I thought...”

You softly giggled. “Now you have to surprise me with a real proposal.”

Spencer laughed as he went in to peck your cheek. He rested his forehead against yours and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” you whispered against his lips.

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 2] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 1] [Part 3]

A/N: Title from the Hozier song—“don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: yandere, violence (not directed toward reader), crying, Shiggy REALLY likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep, non-explicit sexual content. [In later parts: 18+, sex, other stuff]

He—Tomura—keeps visiting.

At first you think it’s because of the free medical care, and you wish you had the spine to tell him to suck it up and go see a professional. After a couple weeks turn into a couple months and his wounds fade into ragged purple scars, though, you start to think differently.

Within a short time Tomura has figured out your work schedule, and he does a decent job of not showing up after your long shifts. The unavoidable consequence of this is that he ends up monopolizing your precious days off, but you come to the realization about a month and a half in that you don’t actually mind. You like it. It’s like spending time with a friend.

Mostly you guys talk. It doesn’t seem like Tomura really has anyone to talk to the way the two of you do, but that’s probably just you projecting. It’s usually shallow stuff—TV shows you like, video games he plays, funny stories from patients you treated. Sometimes when you’re cooking for yourself, you make extra for him. (It happens a lot, actually, and at one point you bring up how much his appetite is costing you and the next time you see him he brings a bag of rice and makes you a porridge that crunches between your teeth when you try to eat it. You can’t finish yours, but he eats an entire bowl and insists that you’re being picky.)

Sometimes he sleeps over on the couch, but he’s always gone when you wake up.

The two of you skirt around the heavier stuff, and you know it’s intentional on his part. You have to resist the urge to ask him about being a villain—he’s all but confirmed it for you, and it’s human nature to be curious, isn’t it? In the same way you can’t help looking at a car crash, you want to poke and prod and find out what it is, exactly, that Tomura does for a living. That part of his life is suspiciously absent from your discussions—if you didn’t know better, you’d think he spends all of his time sleeping and playing games and breaking into your place.

On the other hand, you don’t want to know. Plausible deniability. You can accept criminality in the abstract, but you’ve treated too many victims of the bullshit hero–villain battle to be comfortable really knowing why Tomura avoids public places.

So you don’t ask about it, and Tomura doesn’t tell, and you don’t look up his name. And it’s easy. It’s nice. You’d forgotten what it’s like to come back to a home that isn’t empty.

And then one day when you get off a few hours early from your shift, you stop by a convenience store to pick up some snacks for yourself (hey, you’ve been working hard, you’re entitled to binge a little on foods that you’re afraid to look at the fat content for), and you think, Hm, I wonder if Tomura wants some.

[You: 7:49 PM] > Are you coming over today? [T: 7:49 PM] > Yeah why [You: 7:51 PM] > Getting snacks > Want some? [T: 7:51 PM] > No

[T: 8:12 PM] > When r u coming back to ur place

[T: 8:58 PM] > Hey where are you

[T: 9:39 PM] > (Y/N)?

There’s a man with a gun in the convenience store.

It takes you a second to process at first. You’re standing in the snack food aisle seeking out Oreos and debating the merits of Double Stuf vs. Mega when you catch the mumbled demand and the metallic clicking noise you’ve only ever heard in movies before. It’s a gun—you know that, but your mind dismisses it because it’s ridiculous. Guns are rare in hero society. People don’t go around robbing bodegas at gunpoint anymore.

(You should know better. You work in a goddamn ER. But you compartmentalize, and the crimes you see written across your patients’ bodies stay out of the realm of your personal life because you need them to.)

It’s only when you see the muzzle of a hunting rifle pushed up to the cashier’s sweaty neck that you really understand what’s happening.

You drop to the ground immediately, looking toward the exit but it’s shut and there’s some kind of metal…thing holding the door closed. The cashier mumbles a denial and you can hear him fumble around with the cash drawer for what feels like ages.

It’s real. This is real. You’re in the middle of a robbery. Where are the heroes? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?

God, you’re a hypocrite, cowering behind the aisle divider and waiting for someone to step up while the robber’s demands get increasingly louder and more frantic. He wants money, and the cashier (who, you remember, is a man in his sixties with hands that shake with Parkinson’s when he holds out your receipt) isn’t being fast enough.

“That’s it? There’s no more? Are you fucking kidding me, there’s gotta be a safe or something—“

“No! No, p-please, I’m sorry, this is all I have!”

You cringe, crushing your eyes closed as if that will make it go away. You’re surprised you can hear at all over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Don’t fuck with me old man, I know there’s more! Show me the safe or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out!”

No! You have to do something. You can’t just sit here. You’ve heard plenty of death threats from your patients (not to mention that one from Tomura), and you know the difference between a bluff and a serious warning. Maybe you can catch the robber off guard, try to pull the gun away? You stand up quickly, hoping against hope that you won’t regret this, but in a split second you see that the cashier has the same idea and he’s trying to pull the rifle out of the robber’s hand and—

BANG.

Something warm and wet splatters across your face.

///

Tomura is angry when you get back to the apartment. As soon as he hears your key in the lock he rises from your couch so he can grab your collar with three fingers, jerking your head up to force you to look at him. “Where have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting—“

But he cuts short in the middle of his sentence. Maybe because he sees the look on your face. Or maybe he just notices the traces of blood you haven’t been able to wipe off.

“What happened,” Tomura says. It’s not a question. He adjusts his grip slightly so it’s not quite as punishing, but you hold still anyway.

You have to force your mouth open in order to speak, but when your voice comes out it’s more steady than you thought it would be. “It’s not my blood. There was a robbery at the store. The cashier got shot.”

“Oh.” He releases you and frowns. “That’s it?”

“Fuck you.” You push past him into the kitchen to get yourself a drink with trembling hands. Pantry’s out of shōchū, whiskey will just make you sicker—ahh, there it is. Baijiu. The glug glug glug of the liquor into the glass does nothing to put your nerves at ease, but you pour yourself a double anyway.

“Wait—wait.” Tomura’s hands twitch and rub over his arms like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. “Calm down. Why are you so upset? Don’t you see this stuff every day?”

You do. You’re an ER nurse. There’s no injury you haven’t seen. But it’s not about the blood. “I...I knew him. The cashier. He was nice. He had a grandkid on the way. I—“ You bite your lip and down the baijiu in one gulp. It burns.

Tomura clearly doesn’t know how to comfort you; probably doesn’t even really know why you need to be comforted. What does it mean that death is so meaningless to him? you wonder. But you need someone to listen to you, clueless or not, and Tomura will have to do.

The baijiu is still bitter and hot down your throat when you speak again. “You know something? Know what they asked me when the heroes finally showed up and pulled us out of there, me and the corpse?”

“…What?” Tomura asks warily.

“They stuck a camera in my face and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say to the hero who saved me. Any words of gratitude I wanted to share,” you spit. Now it’s your turn to feel your hands making fists at your sides. Your fingernails scratch into your palms like the pain can be an outlet for the sudden overwhelming fury spilling over you. “They didn’t save him. They were too late.”

Tomura’s eyes widen, and through your curtain of anger you can tell he’s looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. It’s unlike him to even look directly at you, and when he does it’s usually in disinterest or half-sincere irritation. This, though…this is different. He’s watching you like a believer watches a prophet. You can tell—or at least some deep, ugly part of you that you hope is wrong can tell—that he’s trying not to smile.

“I hate this,” you say, and the first tear drips out of your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s awful. You don’t want to cry in front of Tomura. You don’t want to show him how weak you are. But before you can wipe it away, Tomura’s hand comes up and does it for you, smearing the tear over your cheek in a gesture that—for him—is oddly tender.

Then he hugs you.

It’s stiff and awkward, like he’s forgotten how to do it, but the intention is clear. His arms fold around your back, pulling you into his chest while his chin makes its way to rest on your shoulder. He’s leaning into you so deeply that your spine is arched back, and you stagger away from him only for him to step closer again to make up the distance.

“It’s not fair, hm,” he murmurs into your hair. His tone is the closest thing to sympathy you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement you can’t ignore. “They’re always too late, aren’t they? The heroes… And everyone will watch that video of you thanking the heroes, and they’ll think they’re safe too. They’ll keep going about their lives and think that nothing bad can happen to them because a hero will always be around to save them…but you and I know that’s a lie.”

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion that’s raising goosebumps over your arms while Tomura rubs circles into your back, but when it clicks you shiver because it’s fear. You’ve never really been afraid of Tomura before, even when you should’ve been. Does he realize he’s backing you up with how forcefully he’s pushing himself into you? The backs of your knees hit the arm of your couch and you topple onto it with Tomura following.

He holds himself above you on his hands, legs tangled with yours. His eyes are wild and he’s not even trying to suppress his grin now. You’re trapped lying on your back under him—pinned like a butterfly under glass.

“Get off of me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“It’s all a lie, all of it…” A hand comes up and strokes your cheek, rubbing with two fingers at a stray fleck of blood on your neck. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I’m so glad you understand…”

“Let me up now, Tomura.”

He holds still for a long moment—waiting, thinking, considering—and then sits up, still straddling you but loosely enough that you can scramble back away from him on the couch. Your heart is racing, but you try to slow your breaths so he doesn’t pick up on how scared you are.

“Don’t freak out. You’re no fun,” Tomura says, and you exhale a sigh of relief at how normal he sounds. You never thought you’d be so happy about him looking at you like you’re nothing.

“I think you should go,” you say carefully.

He rocks back on his heels and runs a hand through his hair. “Are you mad? I thought I could stay here tonight, like usual. Since I waited for so long.”

“I’m not mad. I just…want to be alone.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone tonight. Not after what you’ve been through.”

Oh, now you care. “Fine. Okay? Fine. You can sleep on the couch.” You’re too tired to argue any more, and you’ve never really been good at convincing Tomura to do anything he doesn’t want to. It’s a miracle he listened to you when you told him to get off you. Considering how often he breaks into your apartment, it’s not like you could keep him out anyway.

So he stays the night. He doesn’t bother you when you take a shower and go to bed, he just lies on the couch in his street clothes. When you wake up in the morning he’s disappeared like he always does, and for the first time since you met him you’re truly relieved that he’s gone.

///

You always thought it would take some level of courage you don’t possess to actually bite the bullet and look Tomura up. To do so would mean saying goodbye to whatever strange relationship the two of you have built over the months, and you’re just not brave enough to risk it.

Turns out it’s not courage that makes you type his name into the search bar. It’s cowardice. You’re lying in bed under the covers when you do it, and the blue-white screen of your laptop is the only light in the room. Your comforter is pulled up almost over your head like it’s a wall that can block out reality.

“tomura”, you enter into the search bar, but you don’t hit return. Instead, you look at the search suggestions.

> tomura shigaraki > tomura shigaraki league of villains > tomura shigaraki decay

Something about it sounds familiar. But you’re not ready. Still, after everything, you’d rather keep your eyes closed. You backspace and snap your laptop shut, and when you do your room is so dark that you think the emptiness might swallow you up.

///

[T: 5:52 PM] > Are u going to be at home tn

[T: 6:14 PM] > Hey check ur phone

[T: 6:42 PM] > Stop ignoring me > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N)

[T: 6:46 PM] 3 MISSED CALLS [You: 6:50 PM] > I’m at work [T: 6:50 PM] > Don’t lie > you finished an hour ago

[T: 7:13 PM] 1 MISSED CALL [T: 7:14 PM] > You said you werent mad [You: 7:15 PM] > I’m not [T: 7:15 PM] > Then stop being a brat > im coming over > ill bring takeout

You’re nervous about seeing him, but in the two weeks since he pushed you down on the couch you’ve found yourself…missing him. Like it or not, he’s made himself a fixture in your life. So when you get home you’re brimming with anticipation, wondering who you’ll get when you open the door—the normal Tomura you’ve come to like over the past few months, or the one from that night. The villain.

But it’s just him. Good old Tomura, laden with plastic bags and containers of greasy fast food for the two of you to gorge yourselves on. You tease him for being cheap and he argues that you’re just a snob and everything seems so normal that you can almost forget the look in his red eyes when he told you that you understood.

Almost.

///

You probably have no idea how good you look when you’re crying.

Of the couple thousand views on the news channel video of your “rescue” from the convenience store robber, at least a tenth are from Tomura. Eventually he just downloads the video onto his computer so he doesn’t have to read the inane comments that the other viewers leave on the webpage. It seems like everyone but him thinks you should feel lucky that you were saved by a hero before the robber could get to you, too.

As always, the public are a bunch of shit-soaked morons. Reading the comments makes him angry, so angry he’s tempted to look into a few of these brainless sheep and see how lucky they feel when they’ve caught the attention of a violent criminal. But that wouldn’t be productive, so he saves the video externally and leaves the news website alone. It’s for the best. Besides, seeing the “views” counter on the website tick up and up by the dozen every time he refreshes is just another reminder that other people are watching this; other people are seeing how delicate and vulnerable and pretty you are with tears spilling out of your eyes and the cashier’s blood sprayed over your clothing.

Thousands of useless fucking NPCs are looking at you just like Tomura is. They’re probably thinking about how sweet you look, just like he is. And they’re probably imagining all the ways they can take advantage of your fragile emotional state, just like him.

You’re too trusting for your own good. Tomura used to think it was a virtue, and it is, but only when it comes to him. Whenever he thinks about how your face is slapped over a dozen different news websites for the whole world to see, he has to dig his fingernails into his neck to keep calm. It’s better when he can just watch the video and pretend he’s the only one seeing it.

And it’s not like not watching the video is an option. Tomura can’t resist your crying face. There’s a point around the three minute mark where your voice breaks in the middle of your statement, and sometimes Tomura skips there in the video just so he can hear that pathetic little sob and replay it over and over and over. Maybe it’s sappy, but Tomura really does feel his heart skip a beat at the way your eyes and nose are rubbed red from your misery.

How fucked up is it that he gets off watching you cry?

Would you be angry if you knew? You probably would, but you put up with so much from him already. Maybe you’d be okay with it if he told you he really and truly tried to hold out. The first dozen times Tomura watched the video, he refused to touch himself no matter how tight his pants got while you choked out your stilted answers to the reporters’ questions, but at this point he barely has to click “play” on the video before he gets hard and takes matters into his own hands.

At the end of the day, it’s your fault. Everything about you is so erotic, from your shaky voice to your pouty, bitten-red lips. Isn’t it completely normal to be aroused while looking at the person you like? And Tomura likes you, he really likes you. He doesn’t have any pictures of you, and with the high definition of the news channel’s video he can see every perfect contour of your cheekbones, every pore in your skin, every glistening wet eyelash.

It’s not that Tomura doesn’t feel sympathy for how upset you are in the video. He does! Not even just sympathy, even—he’s empathetic. He knows exactly how it feels to be let down by the heroes. How dare they tell you you need to be grateful while you’re still trying to wipe brain matter off your shirt? Always too little, too late. It’s not fair.

But if he’s being honest? As miserable as you are, Tomura is happy that you were in the store when that robber came in and that you had to watch a man you knew get his brains blown out in front of you. You need a wake-up call to lose faith in hero society. If you have to suffer some emotional trauma in the process, that seems like a fair price to pay.

And the fact that Tomura gets to jerk off to it? It’s almost like destiny.

➠ [Part 3]

[dizzydancingdreamer]

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

[harryspet]

rogue angel [1] bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark bucky x reader, forced (noncon) age regression, daddy bucky, kidnapping/abduction, drugging, mild violence, hydra reader, post endgame bucky, dd lg dynamic (future ab dl?), wetting, pacifier

A/N: This one has a super taboo dynamic so forewarning! I’m trying something out that I’m into and I want to know if my readers like it too! I’ll continue if I get some good feedback. Reader is 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which Bucky tasks himself with deprogramming you, a former hydra soldier.

series masterlist

word count: 3.3k

You were the Rogue Angel and you were completely unhinged. 

You went off the radar when Hydra was destroyed but, without the guidance of your commanders, you lost control. With no orders from the evil organization, your new identity was crumbling around you. You killed when you felt threatened. You robbed and stole to survive and to keep yourself hidden from the agencies tracking you. 

You were only a child when they stole you from your family and reprogrammed you into a super-soldier. They taught you to use your youth and beauty in order to do their bidding. You never had a chance to be innocent. Still, the world wanted you dead for all the deaths you were responsible for but Bucky thought you could be saved. You could learn to be good just like he did. 

Bucky was familiar with being a fugitive. He was risking a lot by going after you especially since he was going behind the governments back once again. 

You had decided to “lay low” in the East End of London, “renting” an apartment sat above a convenience store, and you had little idea that Bucky was watching you. It confirmed his suspicions that you had gone off the rails and it was even interfering with your normal training. Back in the days when he was brainwashed, it would’ve taken him seconds to realize someone was trailing him and a few more seconds to kill them.

As you left the apartment one day, Bucky noted your erratic behavior. You even fumbled with your keys as you locked your door. As soon as you disappeared down the rough streets of the East End, Bucky made his way into your apartment. He didn’t bother with keys, knowing the strength of his arm could push it open easily. 

He forced it open enough just to crack it, then his eyes trailed down to make sure there wasn’t any tripwire. There was and part of him was a little relieved that you weren't completely unprotected. Normally, he wouldn’t doubt that you could protect yourself, but without hydra commands, it worried him.

He maneuvered himself over the wire before shutting the door and carefully dismantling the wire that was attached to an explosive. He wondered who exactly had sold you the parts to build it. Checking for more booby traps, Bucky made his way around the apartment. It reminded him of the time he spent in Bucharest, trying to understand his relationship with Steve and why exactly he had pulled him from the water. 

There was a small mattress in the corner and only a few knick knacks to decorate the barren run-down apartment. He found money shoved into a jar in one of the cabinets, currencies from all over Europe, and a large map tucked away. Bucky quickly noted that you had mapped out a few Hydra locations around the world.

Bucky sighed, folding up the map, realizing you were going to try to find another Hydra factor to join. As far as he knew, they had all been destroyed and you’d only get yourself caught by a government agency going on this scavenger hunt. 

“I’ll blow your head off if you take another step,” Bucky knew you were behind him as soon as he heard your small voice. You were trying your best to deepen your feminine voice but Bucky could tell it was only an act. 

Bucky moved to turn around until you shouted, “Don’t!”

You hadn’t shot him yet which raised Bucky’s suspicions, “I’m putting my hands up,” Bucky decided to test the theory developing in his mind. He slowly raised his hands and you got a glimpse of the gold and black that was his left arm. 

You knew who he was as soon as you got a glimpse of his face. The Winter Soldier. You racked your brain for more information about him but all you could remember was that he had betrayed Hydra. He used to be like you. 

Bucky took in your appearance, the way you skillfully held your pistol, but also the darkness around your eyes, “Who sent you?” He could tell you had recently cut your hair to be shoulder length and, whatever clothes you had purchased, were from the men’s section. 

“No one,” Bucky answered monotonously, “I’m not here to turn you in.”

You were quiet for a moment. Looking over him, you realized that so much had changed since you had last heard about him. His hair was cut short and he even had a new arm. 

“Then you’re from Hydra?”

You sounded … hopeful, “They’ve been destroyed, Y/N.”

You blinked, staring, before gripping your gun tighter, “That’s not my name.”

Bucky took a step forward and you only narrowed your eyes at him, “It is,” Bucky continued, “You were five when Hydra started experimenting on you. Ten when they started using you in the field. They killed your family and then made sure you’d never remember then.”

You faltered and Bucky took a step closer. You closed your eyes, shaking your head, before lunging towards him, “You’re lying!” You lunged towards him but Bucky was too fast as he sidestepped. 

His arms were still raised in defense, “I’m not here to hurt you either, Y/N.”

“Don’t call me that!” Your finger pressed down on the trigger but Bucky’s movement were sudden, pushing your wrist and grabbing a hold of the barrel as he tilted it away. This led to you wrestling for the weapon. You were still strong, capable of superhuman abilities, but you were weaker without Hydra. 

Bucky pinned your to the ground, sliding the gun away, and it hit the wall with a clang. You continued to fight although it was futile against his vibranium hand. He pinned your legs with his own, keeping you from kicking at him. 

There was nothing but anger in your eyes, pure venom, “I’ll kill you, traitor. I’ll kill you and everyone you care about-”

Bucky shushed you, reaching into his pocket to grab a syringe, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Bucky was still learning to be gentle too and he’d get even more practice in the coming days. You flinched away but only exposed your neck more. Bucky took the opportunity to sink the needle into your neck.

Bucky began to loosen some of the pressure he was using to keep you pinned down. He watched as your body began to slump and you tried to blink your eyes in order to keep yourself awake, “You’ll pay … for this,” Her voice trailed off before you quietly whispered, “Winter … Soldier …” 

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line as he watched you float away into a dreamless sleep, “I’m sure I will.”

+

You awoke in unfamiliar surroundings. Of course, everything was unfamiliar to you these days, but you had an especially bad feeling this time. You turned your head, your eyelids heavy as you blinked them open. You saw a blue sky and clouds. A supposedly peaceful scene but what was peace to you anyways? You felt nothing. Death and destruction were peaceful to you. 

You turned your head to realize you weren't outside, looking up at the sky. Her eyes met with a tan leather chair and, as you continued to look around, you realized that you were sitting on an airplane. A private one. 

Panic began to set in as you looked down at your body, a soft blanket covering it and keeping you warm. You lifted your arms but they shook, weak from whatever sedative was in your system. It took all your energy to throw that blanket off and everything else you had to crawl out of the chair. Well, it was more so a fall.

You grunted as you collided with the floor and Bucky finally looked up from where he was standing by the cockpit. 

You realized that your legs were completely asleep as you tried to pull your body up. You turned onto your back with a wince, poking at your barren legs. You couldn’t even feel them. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky approached the scene, realizing that you had fallen from your seat. He didn’t expect you to awake this soon or even have enough energy to try to hurt yourself. As soon as you saw him, you tried crawling away, pulling your limp legs with you. Bucky grabbed you by underneath your arms, against your protest, and lifted your back into the leather chair. 

“Don’t,” you moaned, your voice weak too but it was useless. Bucky continued to sit you up, reaching behind you to buckle you into the seat. 

“There, that’s better,” Bucky looked over his work, his hands on his hips, “You shouldn’t try to walk for awhile, Y/N.”

“What did you do?” You asked, barely able to raise your voice higher than a whisper. 

“It’s easier this way,” Bucky said simply. Easier for him to keep you from escaping and for you to start to depend on him as your caregiver. He took a seat in the leather chair in front of you, lifting some mechanism that brought up a small table.

You looked down to see your legs were bare and you trailed your shaking hands up to your stomach to find soft pink fabric. Moving your hand down, you felt the soft white fabric of your panties. He had undressed you and that made you grow even more frustrated. 

Bucky brought out a manila folder, flipping through its content before grabbing pictures and setting them on the table in front of you. You saw a mother and father sitting on a picnic blanket, a baby girl in their hands. The next photo was a young girl with her grandmother. They were cooking some dessert in the kitchen. Something in that little girl's eyes gave you a sense of familiarity. 

“Do you recognize them?”

You shook your head and Bucky started to add even more photos. The girl seemed to get happier with each photo and you continuously shook your head.

“This was your family, Y/N.”

“And I’m … s-supposed to believe m-my . . . kidnapper,” You hated how weak you felt. Sure, you had made thousands of people bend to your will and tortured them until they told you what you wanted. Unlike you, Bucky’s motives seemed personal. 

“Your Daddy,” Bucky corrected, “You’ll refer to me that way from now on.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You crazy-”

“I won’t punish you here,” Bucky interrupted, collecting the pictures and putting them back into the confidential file, “But when we’re truly alone … I have a feeling you’ll find out.”

He wanted to be loving and caring with her. To make her feel like finally someone, other than Hydra, is looking out for her. Still, he’d have to train the bad behavior out of her. 

“Where are we going?”

“America,” He was a man of a few words, you noticed. You were hoping for something a little more specific. If you knew then you could track down some former Hydra bases.

“Where’s my weapon?”

He only chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Whose plane is this?”

“My friends.”

As you opened your mouth to ask something else, a stewardess approached, carrying a tray in her hand, “Your bourbon, Mr. Barnes,” She set down the alcoholic drink and flashed the woman a thankful smile, “And for you, Ms. Barnes.”

You scowled at her, wondering if she was in on all of this, “I’m not-”

“Thank you, this is her favorite snack. Could you close the curtain for us, doll.”

“How cute,” The stewardess blushed, walking away, “Of course, Mr. Barnes.”

A white curtain was closed, blocking the two of you away from the front of the plane. You looked down at the table to see baby carrots, apple slices, chicken nuggets, and a juice box, “You should eat. We have a lot of time left before we arrive.”

“I’m not a baby,” Bucky took a sip from his glass. 

“I’d have to disagree.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but instead, you slouched back in your seat, “There’s a good amount of time left on the flight,” Bucky continued.

“I’m not hungry,” You lied. 

Bucky only shrugged, knowing that you were dealing with the battle going on in your mind. You wanted to be taken care of, he knew that, but your conditioning wouldn’t allow you to think that way. 

+

You didn't touch the food, as Bucky expected, even as the flight continued for five hours. You’d experienced worst torture before. This was nothing. You could starve yourself to death if you wanted to but Bucky would just end up force-feeding you. 

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked you again.

“I. Don’t. Have. To,” You explained again, though you could feel your bladder was painfully full. 

“I won’t look, I promise.”

You shut your eyes tight and shook your head again.

Bucky sighed, standing from his chair, “Let’s get you dressed then, little one. We’re landing soon,” Your eyes widened as he walked to the chairs across from yours, a baby blue backpack sitting in the chair. It had the first initial of your name sewed into the front. He pulled out a pair of floral printed overalls, frilly socks, and pink Converse. 

He laid out the blanket that was wrapped around you when you awoke. He undid your seatbelt and your struggling commenced as he lifted you into his arms, setting you down on the blanket, He lifted your legs, sliding on the outfit as you landed futile hits against his back, “If you ate your snacks, you might have more energy,” He was baby-talking you, “Maybe your hits would be more effective, little one.”

Little? You weren’t little. You could kill him if you just … just got your strength back. 

He snapped the overalls into place, easily maneuvering your body. Next was the socks and shoes. You were sure you looked like an overgrown barbie doll. He wasn’t finished though as he pulled out another item from the bag. It was blue, leather, and reminded you of a choker. Instead … it had a white binkie built into it. You struggled the most as he forced it into your mouth, locking it around your head. You reached your hand to find the mechanism that closed it but it seemed to be a magnetic lock. 

Bucky admired his work, grinning, as he put you back into your seat. The plane’s descent began shortly after that. 

No one seemed to mind that a grown man was carrying you, a grown woman, like a child. Bucky thanked the pilot and the stewardess as if he was a totally sane person. Despite you pushing at his chest, he wrapped your legs around him and carried you down the steps of the plane. The gag muffled whatever curses you were spewing at him.

The sun was setting now at the private airport and you looked around for any sign of what state you could be in. 

A sleek, black car was parked beside the plane and a blonde woman emerged as you and Bucky made your way to the bottom of the stairs, “You work fast, Barnes,” The woman spoke. She was dressed in a dark pantsuit, her hair straight as a pin. She looked you over, noting how different you looked from all the photos that were in your file. 

You turned your head away from her, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. You mentally cursed, angry at Bucky for putting you in this situation but you were more upset with yourself than anything. 

“You have to when you’re starting from scratch,” Bucky answered, seeming to be on relatively good terms with the woman, “You have what I asked for?”

Sharon handed Bucky an envelope, “Sam thinks you’ve lost your mind.”

You felt Bucky shrug, “What’s new?”

Maybe this Sam person would help you escape. Bucky opened the back door to the car, setting you inside and buckling your seatbelt for you. As soon as he closed the door, you started fidgeting with the gag in your mouth that was forcing you to suck on a pacifier. 

You were gaining some of your strength back, you could even move your left leg a little, but it wasn’t enough. Bucky was partially right, you probably would be stronger if you’d eaten the food. And now that your bladder was about to explode, you had too many things overwhelming your senses. Bucky got in the passenger seat and soon Sharon was driving them off. 

You tuned yourself out of their conversation, deciding you should map out your surroundings. As you sit up to look out the window, you watch for significant landmarks that would mark your location. Your plan was foolproof except for the fact that it seemed you were completely in the middle of nowhere. You passed no cars on the road and, as the airport went out of sight, both sides of the road were covered by evergreens. 

That meant you were either in the North West or Bucky had lied about even being in America. 

It made your brow furrow. How could he have chosen such a perfect location? You had underestimated him. Clearly, the Winter Soldier used his new resources wisely. If only you had time to get back on your feet after Hydra. 

The car pulled up to a two-story cabin, a red truck sitting outside in the driveway. 

“Welcome home, Y/N,” You realized that you had zoned out when you felt Bucky undoing your seatbelt. He took you into his arms again and you wrapped your arms around his neck, only for balance. 

There wasn’t some big fence or electric wires. It was just a quaint little house. 

“I’ll see you soon, Barnes,” Sharon waved her goodbyes, and Bucky watched as the car backed away. 

When the car was out of sight, he turned to you, “You’d like Daddy to give you a tour, wouldn’t you?”

You only scowled at him, as much as you could with the gag on. Your baby bag on his back and you strapped to his hip, he carried you inside. As he did, you felt another part of your freedom slipping away. 

He carried you around the cozy home, through the living room and dining room, baby-talking you as he explained small items. The walls were a light beige, the floors a dark wood, and there seemed to be bookshelves made into all of the furniture items. 

Bucky had brought you into the kitchen which surprisingly had stainless steel appliances. The thought of eating flooded your mind but you pushed it down. Before, you could completely clear the thoughts from your mind. Now, your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts.

Suddenly, there was a loud bark, causing Bucky to pause before he smiled a bit. He set you down on the counter, your limp legs hanging down, “Wait for Daddy for one moment.”

You didn’t acknowledge his command, only watched him slip out the backdoor connected to the kitchen. As soon as he disappeared, you slowly started to ease yourself off the counter. It was a far jump, one that he probably wasn’t expecting you to attempt. 

Your whole lower half was still numb but you felt it as one of your shoes touched the floor. You were relieved, holding onto the counter tightly as you tried the next leg. There was still little feeling but, if you took a moment to practice, maybe you could make it. 

“Y/N?” You were so focused on the task that he had startled you. You almost fell but Bucky was there to catch you. In a swift movement, he was holding you as you pressed against the kitchen counter. 

You felt tears stinging in your eyes as Bucky looked down. You felt the warmness running down your leg and pooling by your feet, ruining the new outfit he had put you in. You’d been so frightened that ...

You can’t cry. 

Weak. 

You can’t be weak.

You started to hyperventilate, anger and frustration boiling over.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, angel. It was just an accident,” Bucky spoke soothingly. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. He knew you wouldn’t be able to hold it in for so long and he should’ve forced you to go earlier. Still, it gave him an excuse to comfort you, “Daddy’s gonna get you all cleaned up, don’t worry.”

Being without hydra had made him weak, you thought, and it looked like the same thing would happen to you. 

+

Let me know if you’d like to read a second part of this story! I know this type of dynamic isn’t for everybody. Check out my master list for more of my dark marvel fics.

update: both chapter 2 and 3 are posted :)

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 31

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 9.4k (._.) ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act four ➻ part six

​​​​​ ​​​​

“Need help with the dishes?” The voice catches off-guard, and you nearly chuck the ceramic plate in your hands across the cramped kitchen in your surprise.

“Shit, you scared — oh.” You don’t mean to sound so shocked but seeing San standing beside you at the sink is the last thing you were expecting. He just offers a weak smile, one that is strained and wavering but present nonetheless, and that gives you a little bit of hope about the ensuing conversation. He has effectively cornered you, and while you could make a daring escape and leave him to do the dishes on his own, that would be both suspicious and unnecessary when San isn’t showing any signs of anger at the moment.

“Is that a yes or no?”

“Oh, um, be my guest, yeah. I’d… I’d appreciate the help,” you mutter, pulling your chin forward again to focus on the steady stream of water from the faucet. San settles next to you without missing a beat; he snatches up a dish towel and begins to take the dishes you’ve set out on the drying rack, carefully drying each one with methodical twists of his wrists. You aren’t sure how best to make conversation with him given the tense exchange you had earlier, so you opt to say nothing at all in hopes that San will be the one to initiate the confrontation. It works in your favor (the only thing on your side at the moment it seems) and after a few minutes of awkward silence, San finally speaks up.

“Earlier… when we were on the mission, I – I was unfair to you.”

“You were well within your right, San,” you respond as quickly as possible, not giving yourself a chance to think twice.

“That doesn’t mean it was right.”

“I don’t hold it against you.” You pause to heave a deep sigh. You’re running out of dishes far too quickly which means that you’ll actually have to face San rather than hiding as best you can with the dishes in the sink. “To be frank, I figured you would still be upset with me.”

“I don’t think I realized the weight of the decision on your shoulders,” San explains. Ceramic hits metal before he can speak again, and you both tense from the sharpness of the sound. San inhales with the noise then shifts the plate he just hit on the side of the counter to set it down properly. “We put the responsibility on your shoulders because you’re the only one who knew of the serum and experienced it firsthand. Looking back, it seems foolish of me to say that I should make the decision rather than Mingi. Not because he made the decision I wanted but… because the moral weight of choice is heavier than what’s good and what’s not. At least it should be.”

You set the plate in your hands down to face San, twisting at the waist at the same time he does, and the sudden eye contact causes your mind to go completely blank in the blink of an eye.

“Uh…” Squeezing your eyes shut, you desperately attempt to bring the thought back but it’s already too far gone and you’ve forgotten it completely. San offers a patient and gentle smile, eyes folding into soft crescents as he does, and a quiet laugh slips from his lips.

“Sorry for hitting you with the heavy stuff right after dinner. I just didn’t want to let it sit and stew for too long.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I don’t mind. I’m – well, I’m a bit curious about something.” you shut the water off for the time being so that you can better focus on the conversation at hand, and the remaining dirty dishes lie forgotten in the sink.

“What’s that?” San tilts his head to the side. You find yourself distracted by the way a few strands of black hair slip to frame his forehead and how his dimples slip away as his smile fades a bit, but you’re quick to pull yourself back.

“Yesterday you asked me whether I would be okay with using the serum if you asked for it. But I wanted to know… if our positions were switched, would you be okay with it?”

“You mean if I were the one who had already taken it once before?” San inquires, head falling further to the side. You’re quick to nod in response, and he follows up with a gentle hum. “I can’t pretend to know what that experience was like for you or how deeply it affected you. If I were the one who had used it before, and I was aware of it like you, I know that I would be selfish at the end of the day. I have mentioned it before but I wish to cling to you for as long as I can. And though it’s – though it goes against my morals, I would not want you to take the serum because I can’t bear the thought of you forgetting who I am and how I feel about you. I know that sounds a bit bold, especially given your relations with Seonghwa, but… I would say the same to any member of the crew — save for Yeosang perhaps. You all are special and valuable to me in unique ways, and the thought of any of you losing any memory we share is too much for me.”

Your breath catches a bit in your throat, and San’s kind smile returns in full force. When you next speak, it doesn’t feel as though the words are coming from your mouth at all, but more like someone has taken over your body and decided to say them instead.

“Would you expect the same of me in return?”

“I would only ask that which I would ask any of the crew. To do what is right by your own standards and not by anyone else’s. We’ve all been slaves to other people’s whims and desires for too long. I would never wish to put anyone through that again, and even something as simple as pushing my opinion onto you would be unfair. It may be in our nature as living, rational beings to seek out the things that bring us the most comfort and to try to create a space around us that provides that comfort. Thus we are by nature selfish and striving towards personal satisfaction. We can’t break free of that selfishness unless we really stop to think about things. Hongjoong told me that once, and it hasn’t left me since.”

“Ah, so he can be reasonable,” you remark through a small smile, breaking a bit of the heaviness lingering in the air around you two. San laughs in response.

“Only when he’s sober and fully rested, but he’s rarely not one of those things.”

“Hey, Y/N, I brought more dishes for you to—oh I didn’t know you were in here too.” Both you and San whip to face the newcomer as he steps into the already cramped kitchen.

“Oh, hell no, Choi Jongho, I am not washing all those dishes for you!” You protest immediately upon seeing the stack of plates and bowls in his hands.

“What do you mean you won’t? It’s not even that hard! Seonghwa’s food doesn’t stick to the plates. All you have to do is give it a quick scrub!”

“Okay, then you do it!”

“Why would I do it?”

“You just said it’s easy! That’s basically signing up to do dishes.” You jab a finger in Jongho’s direction before he can say anything else and effectively shush him.

“She’s got you there,” San chimes in. Jongho rolls his eyes in response but comes closer to the sink to take your place.

“This is just mean. I’m the only one here who hasn’t had a nap today, and yet I’m being forced to stay up later? Disgusting,” Jongho huffs through his teeth. You pat his shoulder with a thin smile before stepping around him to leave the kitchen.

“Don’t pout so much, Jongho. I’ll stick around to dry the dishes for you.” Jongho merely grumbles in response to San’s offer, earning himself a sharp slap to the back of the head. “Ungrateful little shit.”

“Bigger than you th–”

“Oh, so you want to do them alone now?” San scoffs. You laugh over your shoulder before stepping out of the kitchen to return to the mess hall. It’s cleared out considerably already; Wooyoung and Yeosang have disappeared, as has Mingi, and the only two left are Yunho and Seonghwa, who stand at the edge of the room engaged in a conversation that’s loud enough for you to hear even at your distance from them.

“Would you go up to check on Hongjoong? At least make sure he sleeps even for an hour tonight?” Seonghwa asks, jerking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bridge.

“You’re not going back up tonight?”

“No, contrary to popular belief, I actually need rest too so I’ll be turning in earlier tonight.”

“Hm, unbelievable,” Yunho huffs, but there’s a small smile pressed over his lips as he says the words. His gaze flits away from Seonghwa’s face to find you standing at the edge of the kitchen, and in an instant, his expression shifts to one of surprise then a hurried glance down to the floor the moment you make eye contact. Seonghwa mimics the motion of his eyes, following their path back to you. He passes you a soft smile, and you return it with your own strained one, too focused on Yunho at the moment. The doctor continues to avoid your stare though and drags his attention back to Seonghwa instead. “Um, yeah, I’ll go up and see him. We’re long overdue for a talk anyway.”

“A talk?” You can’t see Seonghwa’s expression but the tone of his voice tells you enough, and Yunho sucks his lower lip between his teeth before tilting his head to the side.

“Is that jealousy I hear, Lieutenant?” He arches a brow as he speaks, arms coming up to cross over his chest in an almost defensive manner.

“Are you trying to pick a fight, Healer?” Seonghwa counters. The lightness in the conversation disappears in an instant, and Yunho’s eyes blaze at the accusation hurled his way. “I’d advise you not to comment on things you don’t understand, Yunho. You might be a doctor, but that doesn’t mean you know everything. It’s no good to be so deceived by those things, no?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’re the one trying to start a fight, Seonghwa.”

“Merely reminding you not to cross certain lines. I believe we had discussed that in the past already, and yet… here we find ourselves having to have this conversation again.”

“And I thought you learned your lesson when Hongjoong threatened to put you out the airlock.” Yunho’s tone is far too hot and scathing for your liking, and you shrink further back against the wall in an attempt to hide yourself as best you can. He seems to have forgotten about your presence already in the heat of the argument, which you’re thankful for but you don’t feel any more comfortable being stuck in the room. Especially because of what happens next when Seonghwa’s hand darts out to catch hold of Yunho’s collar. He swivels the taller man as though he weighs nothing and presses him hard against the wall. The impact is enough to draw a grunt out of Yunho but he keeps his head up to glare back at Seonghwa.

“I wasn’t the one who started fucking someone else less than a month later. I guess you both have that in common then. Did you even wait for the ashes to grow cold before you were rolling around in the captain’s bed like some cheap wh—”

Seonghwa doesn’t get to finish the thought, and part of you is grateful that you don’t have to hear the rest of it. The other half is horrified because Yunho’s fist careens into Seonghwa’s jaw, knocking him off the taller man. Yunho swings a kick at Seonghwa’s feet next to push him all the way to the floor, but the other man is too quick and shoves Yunho’s leg away before it can hit him.

“I’m not going to fight you, Yunho,” Seonghwa hisses, slipping further back to put more distance between him and the healer.

“Then let me beat you up for having the audacity to act like you know what I was going through!”

“Yet you stand here and act like I’m the bad guy and the one who did the wrong thing  in saying that his obsession was killing him.”

Yunho forces his way back into Seonghwa’s personal space, chest heaving as he brings his hands up to the other man and shoves harshly. Seonghwa manages to maintain his balance and stay on his feet despite the force behind the attack, but that only serves to anger Yunho more because he sneers and repeats the motion once more to knock Seonghwa into a table. Seonghwa grabs onto the edge of the metal to stabilize himself. Yunho takes advantage of the distraction and swings his fist back into Seonghwa’s face, hitting him across the cheekbone this time, and the hit is so hard that blood comes off on Yunho’s knuckles when he pulls his hand back.

The sight of crimson spurs you into action, and you push off the wall to rush over to where Yunho has Seonghwa pinned against the table.

“Yunho, that’s enough!” You cut in, reaching out to snatch Yunho’s arm before he can deliver another hit. He fights against your tight grip to the best of his ability and manages to pull free only to swing his hand back at you. You barely register what happens next but Seonghwa’s reaction is clue enough to help you figure it out, along with the burning sting across your left cheek. Seonghwa shoves Yunho’s weight off him, and the taller man stumbles back in shock. He blinks down at his hand as though he can’t believe what he’s just done, but you have no time to pay attention to that because Seonghwa steps in front of you, hands coming up to cradle your face.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need ice?” He rambles as he examines your cheek with a worried gaze. It’s as though the blood on his own cheek doesn’t exist and he just continues to thumb over your face.

“I-I didn’t mean to — I swear, I promise I wasn’t thinki–”

“Fuck off, Yunho,” Seonghwa hisses over his shoulder. “Before we both do something we regret.”

Yunho leaves the room in the direction of the bridge in a way you can only compare to a wounded dog scampering off with his tail between his legs, and once he’s completely gone from sight, the adrenaline of the moment begins to wear off. You release a shaky exhale, nearly trembling in Seonghwa’s grasp. He swallows once.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he murmurs a few seconds later.

“And let him beat you to a pulp the day before a mission? I think not.” You reach up to grab onto one of Seonghwa’s hands, pulling it away from your face.

“I would have been fine. You, on the other hand—”

“What?” You interject. You have to bite back the sigh that threatens to leave your lips. “On the other hand what? I’m fragile?”

“That’s not – I didn’t it like that. Please… Y/N, please don’t fight with me on this. That’s not my intention.” Seonghwa clenches his fingers around the ones that still reside against his palm, and you let him cling to you without complaint for the time being. “Had he done anything more to hurt you, I fear what I might have done in response, and I – I truly did not want to fight with him. I let my emotions get the better of me in the heat of the moment.”

“What’s done is done, Seonghwa,” you mutter in response. “Let me at least clean your cheek and get some ice on it. It’ll do you no good to have a swollen face tomorrow.” Seonghwa huffs out a laugh but lets his hands fall away from you and rest limply by his sides.

“If it makes you feel better, then you can do whatever you like.” You can’t keep from smiling at his words, the soft smile he wears easing your anxiety quite a bit, and you shake your head.

“Don’t tell me that. Who knows what unsavory things I could come up with?” You tease through a laugh.

“I’d hope for at least a few ideas.”

“Okay, tiger, maybe you got hit a bit too hard.” You swat weakly at Seonghwa’s arm as he just chuckles and pulls away to move towards the exit. You fall into step with him, gnawing at your lower lip for no other reason than to busy yourself as the two of you walk to the medbay. “You don’t—” you cut yourself short before the thought can finish and bite down hard on the tip of your tongue. Seonghwa blinks down at you with expectation shining clearly in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to but… what exactly was it you two were arguing about?”

Seonghwa hums to himself and glances down at the floor for several moments before lifting his chin again.

“I have never attempted to purposefully hide it from you as that would hardly be fair to you. But I can explain things better once we’re in the medbay.”

You nod quickly, gaze trailing over the side of Seonghwa’s profile in your peripheral. He doesn’t offer further conversation, but it’s clear that that is only because he is deep in thought on the short walk to the medbay. Even as you step into the blindingly white room, he stays quiet and seats himself on the edge of one of the beds while you busy yourself with searching for supplies to clean his bleeding cheek. You come back to him after grabbing some soap and a bottle of water then set a pack of white cleaning pads next to him on the bed. He shifts his chin to expose his cheek further to you. You murmur a quiet thank you, fingers dancing over his face to keep him in place. Whether by instinct or intention, Seonghwa’s hands dart up to secure on your hips. He keeps you firmly set between his knees, and you try your best to ignore the sudden tightness in your chest as he holds you.

“Hongjoong and I…” Seonghwa starts, his tone so quiet that it is nearly drowned out by the hum of the air conditioner. You wet one of the cotton rounds in silence. You don’t dare to look him in the eye, focusing on the task at hand while he continues to speak. “We used to be in a special sort of relationship. We weren’t romantically or sexually involved right off the bat – it took quite some time for that to happen. In fact, it was only after there was a mutiny that we decided to explore those parts of our relationship, and initially, it was just my way of offering him comfort in the aftermath of that mess. Things, of course, got more complicated as feelings arose on my side. I found myself to be quite jealous in certain regards, and that jealousy blinded me to the bigger picture more often than not.”

You drag the damp round over Seonghwa’s cheekbone, and he winces from the impact.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter quickly, pulling your hand back, but Seonghwa reaches up to guide your hand back to his cheek.

“It’s fine. You can continue.” You nod through a rough swallow. As you continue to wipe at his cheek, Seonghwa continues with his story. “The man who led the mutiny was… Hongjoong’s lover to put it simply. I had always loved Hongjoong but it wasn’t anything more than a platonic love until after we started having relations. He wasn’t ready to let go of the past though, and I-I was blindsided by jealousy one night to a point where I threw out some of that man’s belongings one day. When Hongjoong found out, he was furious, of course, and that was the first and only time we had a physical fight. That’s what Yunho was referring to when he mentioned Hongjoong threatening to kick me off the ship and into space. Even after we recovered from that struggle, it never stopped because Hongjoong would tear himself apart over the mutiny. He got more and more obsessed in the next couple of months, and I decided that I couldn’t handle it any longer. So I gave him an ultimatum: stop being sexually involved with each other or stop being involved altogether. It’s clear which option he chose.”

“I sense a ‘however’…” You murmur, leaning back to admire your work on his cheek. Seonghwa huffs out a laugh, and his fingers twitch against your waist.

“Less than a month later Hongjoong was fucking Yunho right under my nose without a care in the world.” You inhale sharply, fingers wavering against Seonghwa’s jawline. “Didn’t even care that I knew, didn’t care to hide it from me, didn’t see any issue with it at all. On one hand, it felt like a jab at me for catching feelings the way I did because he could just… fuck around with Yunho and separate emotions from it whereas I couldn’t. But then I confronted Yunho about it, and he told me that Hongjoong only ever asked for sex when he couldn’t get out of his own head. Needed someone to fuck his thoughts out of him. I was glad that I didn’t have to be that person for him out of a selfish desire to preserve myself but… I was used to being the one who had the duty of protecting him and helping him through whatever issues he was having. It just took a look time to work through that on my own, and I couldn’t very well ask Yunho to talk about it with me because of a misguided arrogance.”

“Do you…” You lose confidence halfway through the question, and your tone falls flat. Seonghwa waits without saying a word for you to continue the thought. “Do you still love him?”

“Not in that way any longer,” Seonghwa whispers. His lips barely move, but you hear the words as clear as day. “I see the parts of him that I loved elsewhere now… but I’m quickly finding new things to love in that same place that I couldn’t see in him.”

Your jaw stutters dumbly as you try to process the words.

“Oh,” you exhale, too overwhelmed to come up with anything else.

“And if she would let me, I would do my best to show her new things to love in me as well.”

“I… is there another w-woman on the crew I don’t know about?”

Seonghwa smiles. His teeth bite into his lower lip as he struggles to hold back a smile, and his hands slip further around you to hold you tighter. You only realize how dumb your question sounds at that moment.

“I, um, I me-meant tha—” The tightness in your chest is too intense for you to finish your sentence, and the weight of his words hit you full force at last. You don’t even realize that tears have begun to fall until Seonghwa’s brows knit together in concern and one of his hands reaches up to brush them off your cheeks.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, Y/N,” Seonghwa murmurs. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N, what’s going on?”

You need to communicate, to explain to him what’s going on in your head in words and be honest with him, but every word feels like lead on your tongue. Your lips are wobbling as you cradle Seonghwa’s face in your hands, eyes scanning his face in search of answers to all the questions running through your mind. At one point you truly thought that you saw Jisung in Seonghwa and that that was the only reason you felt yourself so drawn to him. Yet standing here the way you are now, you cannot see even an ounce of similarity between him and Jisung. Even the endless care Seonghwa provides for you is far different than the kind Jisung gave you. You cannot reason why Seonghwa pulls your heartstrings in such a way, but it’s only now that you realize that it has nothing to do with Jisung in any way.

“A-As much as I – as much as I don’t w-want to let go of the past, I… I find myself wanting to move forward… to you. I want y-you.”

“Then I’m yours for as long as you want me, and I won’t go anywhere until then.”

“I swear on my life that I’ll never leave you.”

“Don’t promise not to leave.” Your words come out in a rush, but Seonghwa understands them nonetheless. Your eyes flutter shut as you speak your next words. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, just… tell me that you’re here. For now. For as long as it lasts.”

Before you know it, Seonghwa’s breath invades yours, and you feel the heat of his lips centimeters away from yours.

“I’m here now, Y/N.” You can hear the unspoken words on his lips, the promises that wish to spill out about how he won’t leave you and how he will stay, but he does exactly as you asked him to do and doesn’t let those empty promises reach the air between you.

“Show me,” you whisper without hesitation. That’s all the incentive Seonghwa needs to slot his lips against yours and suck the breath from your lungs as you exhale into his mouth. And when his hands slip down your back to hook around your thighs, you welcome it, letting him pull you forward until you are seated comfortably on his lap. You can’t even bring yourself to care that you are in the medbay of all places — a place far from the security that a bedroom would provide — but the enticement of Seonghwa’s lips pushes that thought out of your mind.

It’s almost poetic in a way: the way Seonghwa shifts to ease you back against the pillows of the bed and snakes his hands down to the band of your pants, tugging them lower and lower until you’re shed of them completely. It’s just as your first time together and yet the feeling behind it is so vastly different that you can hardly wrap your mind around it. And while he doesn’t take the time to drag his tongue over your folds this time, he does pepper the insides of your thighs with endless kisses and press two fingers to your entrance once he has rid himself of his own pants as well. Once he has pushed himself back up to be eye level with you again, you greet him with a kiss, tongue slipping between his lips in a rush to taste him. He hums into your mouth, and you can feel the corners of his mouth pulling upward as he smiles a bit.

“Hurry up,” you mutter, separating your lips with a wet pop.

“Always in such a rush, princess.” The nickname sends a surge of warmth through your chest, and you can’t keep from huffing out a laugh.

“You only say that because you’re so slow, pretty boy.” Seonghwa presses his lips back to yours as a counterattack, and he slips his fingers out from your core. Next thing you know, he is teasing your folds with the head of his cock, lips leaving yours for a moment as he hesitates there.

“Give me permission,” he murmurs. His eyes search yours for any sign of denial, and you hook a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down until his forehead collides with yours.

“It’s already yours.” With that, he buries himself all the way to the hilt in one quick thrust, and your lips part to release a silent cry of pleasure. Seonghwa braces his hands on either side of your head, palms sinking into the pillows and causing you to sink further back against the bed. He moves with you, and his weight pins you to the mattress. You give him a breathless command to continue his movements, which he follows like it’s the only thing that matters. And in the moment, it does feel like it’s the only thing that matters because all you can feel is Seonghwa. He rocks his hips against yours, member sliding over your velveteen walls with just the right amount of friction, and each thrust puts stars in your vision.

It’s a blinding pleasure that the two of you chase, a pleasure that is only heightened by the warmth of the emotion in your chest, and Seonghwa lets his eyes flutter shut as he fucks you. Whispered praises fall from his lips, and they’re spoken with such care and gentleness that you almost find yourself getting emotional again.

“So beautiful–” he shifts to kiss the apple of your cheek “–so, ah, perfect. You’re so so perfect, princess.” You moan loud into the shell of his ear, a sound that causes visible goosebumps to rush over his skin and a throaty groan to tear from his lips. The slight growl to his tone has you clenching hard around his cock, and a burst of arousal shoots through you. It nearly brings you to the precipice of pleasure but you force it down so that you can hold it off just a little while longer. Seonghwa sits up, and the warmth of his body leaves yours as he slips his hands down to your hips and kneels over you. He pulls your body up to meet his thrusts, and you can do nothing but cling to the bedsheets and release small whimpers of pleasure as he hits deeper with each drag of his member inside you.

“S-Seonghwa, oh fuck, I – I’m close, I’m close, I’m close,” you babble, back arching off the bed. Seonghwa dips back down to press a kiss to your sweat-slick temple.

“Cum for me, princess. You have permission.”

“Thank you, th-thank you, thank you.” You fall apart under his touch, eating up every breath of praise he showers you with as you reach your high, and your orgasm crashes hard over you. The clenching of your walls around him spurs him to cum himself, and he exhales a shaky groan as he does. The strength leaves his body at the same time. You can only huff out a gasp as his chest hits yours, arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and hold him close to you in the aftermath of your orgasms.

It creeps up on you as you’re lying there basking in the glow of pleasure. Whereas before you thought you never wanted to experience the feeling again, this time you welcome it and let yourself be surrounded by the warmth it provides along with Seonghwa’s presence filling your every sense. You tangle your fingers in Seonghwa’s hair just to pull him back so that you can look him in the eye.

“D-Do you feel that?” He looks confused for a moment, unsure of both what you mean and what you are trying to say. Then you reach down to place a hand over Seonghwa’s heart that’s guarded by his shirt still, and he seems to understand what you’re after. A gentle smile overtakes his lips.

“I’ve felt it for a long time, Y/N.”

…

Nothing about the situation feels right in the slightest. The tension in your shoulders has reached impossible levels, and you can’t sit still for the life of you even with Wooyoung’s hand gripping your thigh like a vice. Yunho sits to your right although you can’t even bear to look in his direction at the moment, the heated embers from your argument yesterday still smoldering in your gut to a point where you can’t even hear him breathe without feeling enraged. But Wooyoung hasn’t let you go since the moment you sat down, and you can’t blame him because the scenery is far from pleasant.

You have never been to such a place — the arena looks like something straight out of myth with its climbing walls and seats that line the whole circle in rows. Carnage lies far below you, and you are grateful that Hongjoong didn’t ask you to move any lower than you have: a safe midpoint in the seats with a canopy above your heads to shroud the blinding daylight from your eyes. San and Jongho are somewhere across the way, lost in the mess of the crowd and bodies, and Mingi is safely secured in the bunker Seonghwa mentioned previously, according to Jongho. The older Berserker was also apparently more than happy to stay put there but only after Hongjoong agreed to let him have an earpiece of his own so that he could hear what was going on during the mission. While there was no shortage of doubts about that idea, Mingi had assured Hongjoong that he would be safely locked inside the bunker with Bloodletter crew guards just outside the door, and that was all it took for Hongjoong to relent a bit.

The final trio of Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong reside closer to the upper edge of the circle. Even at a distance, you can clearly see the wide, extended platform that stretches forward into the arena. It bears a tall gilded throne square in the middle of it, and you’re positive that the man with long white hair sitting atop it is none other than Vladimir the Bloody. He looks quite different than the time you saw him last with his face etched messily onto a bounty paper and dropped before you prior to a mission, but no one else would put himself on such a pedestal other than that man.

“You haven’t aged a day in years, Vlad. I see life has been treating you well then,” Hongjoong greets after a few breaths of silence over the comms channel. He receives a loud scoff in response, and that’s the only sound that echoes over the earpiece for quite some time, nearly drowned out by the ruckus bubbling around you.

“Save the niceties, Kim.” Vladimir’s fingers drum against the side of his armrest, long nails tapping along to no particular rhythm. “You wouldn’t come here for anything less than business.”

“I can’t pay an old friend a visit now and again?”

“Not with those two at your side… tell me – where is your prized Berserker?”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that.” Hongjoong’s voice comes across a bit more guarded this time, and it’s more than clear who Vlad is referring to despite Hongjoong’s question.

“Come now. We both know which one I’m referring to. Look around us, Hongjoong. This arena, these people, my fighters – they were all built on the blood and bones of the Brute of Kebos. Did you by chance bring him along with you? Or is it merely the three of you?” That last question causes your breath to hitch, and you stop yourself from reaching for Wooyoung’s hand at the last second.

“Of what interest is that to you, Vladimir?”

“Curiosity. Merely that and nothing more.”

“He doesn’t know we’re here,” Wooyoung whispers, leaning closer to you to keep the words as hushed as possible. You shake your head in agreement with his statement, but something about the way Vladimir’s head shifts tells you that he’s searching the arena for any sign of a familiar face amongst the crowd. As do the guards lingering near the edges of each row of seats. You can’t possibly feel safe yet – not when he has so many men watching and lurking around you.

“You’ve done surprisingly well for yourself, I must say.”

“Rearing a new generation of arenas?” Vladimir chuckles as he says the words, white hair billowing around his head. It looks almost transparent in the gleam of the sun, and the canopy above his head must have a hole in it because of the way the light trickles through.

“Striking a deal with the military is far more intriguing,” Hongjoong remarks without missing a beat.

“Look at these people, Hongjoong. They all claim to hate fighting, to run away at the sign of conflict, not be able to stomach the sight of blood, and yet they all find themselves here. Why do you think that is?”

“Because they crave it?”

“They crave control. They see me standing in a place of power, with a grip over life and death… and they crave it, Hongjoong. Just like you and me.”

“You think it’s control I seek?” The question is a farce and you know it, but something tells you that Vladimir is aware of it as well.

“Would you be searching for your mutinous crewmate otherwise?”

Mutinous crewmate.

“There was a mutiny,” Hongjoong states as if it’s the most normal thing in the universe. “They thought that I couldn’t lead and wasn’t suited for it. Mingi killing Cass only solidified those feelings. My highest in command after Seonghwa led the mutiny. Before he left the ship with half the crew, he swore that he would get the treasure first along with the Sirens.”

“I need information. I need to know who my information broker really was, why they lied, why I was given a dead lead, and where the hell Jin is right now. Be it luck or fate, Y/N has given us precious time to get the answers to these questions. If anyone is going to have those answers, it’s going to be Vladimir.”

“Ah, so you do know why I’m here.”

“As unhappy as it might make you, you are quite an easy man to read, Kim. And yet despite all your desires for control, you still fail to grasp it. I wonder — is it because you’re a failure? Or because of something else?”

You can’t see what Hongjoong is doing from your vantage point, but he doesn’t offer up a response. Yunho shifts beside you, a creak to the wood legs of his chair and gaze still glued to anything but the arena down below. Then —

“After all this time, you still look at your damn lieutenant the same way.” A breath of hesitation, and you choke on air at his next words. “Like he’s your treasure.”

“I came here for business, Vladimir,” Hongjoong hisses out, but it’s too late to keep anyone from hearing what Vladimir has said.

“I know you did. You want information. Information I cannot provide.” Hongjoong scoffs at that.

“What’s your cost? Name the price and it’s yours.”

A shrill laugh echoes through your headset. The hand clasped over your thigh tightens a little, and you find your own hand sneaking towards it with a sudden churning of anxiety in your gut.

“What I want isn’t money, Kim. What I want is your prized Berserker down in my arena.”

The pit in your stomach deepens to an impossible degree. Wooyoung stretches a hand towards yours, moving off your thigh to clasp your palm tightly.

“No. Not a chance.”

“Then I suppose your information isn’t so valuable after all.” Vladimir leans back in his throne, dipping out of the streams of light to be concealed by the shadows once more.

“Why do you want him so desperately?”

“Because, Hongjoong, I am just like each and every single one of these people. I crave it. To control that beast.”

“He isn’t yours to control.”

“And I suppose he is yours? Hongjoong, you’re a mystery to me. I’d think that after all those years in chains, you would see freedom differently.” Vladimir sighs a clear and defined sound that comes across in an almost condescending way.

“Freedom is a farce.”

“No, freedom is what you make of it. In my eyes, only one thing can truly be freedom, and that is death. We are never free from our chains, Hongjoong. They stay with us until we die. That’s the meaning of freedom and the meaning of death.”

Vladimir moves slowly, but his bright regalia gives away his shifting feet as he stands up and approaches the balcony, red cloak billowing behind him like a bloody shadow. A dark hand rises, glove masking the skin underneath, and he extends it out towards the crowd.

“Would that I could grant everyone that freedom.”

The cacophony of shouts heightens as he draws all fingers into a tight fist and straightens his thumb.

“You expect me to be cruel, Hongjoong, because you believe everyone to be cruel. You hope for them to be cruel so that you can have an excuse for being that way yourself. I’m afraid life doesn’t work that way though. I am not cruel. I am the body and the hand of the people. An instrument of their desires.” He tilts his hand, a blurry and hazy movement given the distance. “Their song in the silence.” The screams halt as though by cue. Bated breaths holding onto nothing except one man’s hand. “Their light in the darkness.” He jerks and points his thumb to the ground. The din resumes in an instant. “I am their voice, Hongjoong. Merely that and nothing more. Whether you consider that to be cruel or not… it is on your shoulders.”

“If it is blood you want, then put me down there.”

Yunho looks up for the first time, eyes staring directly at the seat where Hongjoong sits as still as ever. Wooyoung lurches as well, and his hand squeezes almost painfully around your thigh.

“Hongjoong, no–” Seonghwa’s voice is the one to cut across the feed, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him continue the thought.

“Take me in Mingi’s stead.” The words feel almost heavy on your ears.

“Ah. What an intriguing turn of events. What could you possibly offer me that that Berserker could not, Hongjoong? Do not pretend to be anything more than an ant among giants when it comes to my gladiators.”

“You said it yourself. It’s about control. Not about winning or losing. Control.”

“You would hand your life over that easily? I should’ve tried this years ago.”

“When I come out of there alive, then you will give me every last bit of information I desire,” Hongjoong demands, not wavering in the face of Vladimir’s mockery.

“That confidence hasn’t left you a day in your life, has it? Still… I’ll accept your offer.”

“No,” Yunho exhales, hands gripping the arms of his chair so tight that his knuckles go white. “He can’t be serious. He can’t be doing this. It’s – it’s suicide.”

“Come out alive, Kim Hongjoong, and I will give you all the answers you seek. Should you die, I will grant the rest of your crew safe passage back to your ship, as well as deliver your body to them untouched. Would it be that this is a fitting end for you, Scourge of the Black Sea.”

“We have to go. We have to stop him before he does this!” Yunho exclaims. He pulls himself to his feet, forgoing the people around you in favor of his urgency.

“Yunho… we can’t,” you utter. Defeat radiates through your tone. The odds of Hongjoong coming out of that hellhole are slim to none. Yet the odds of you guys stopping him from going in there are even lower.

“My men will escort you down to prepare for your fight. Do not expect me to be easy on you when I select your opponent.”

“That’s the thing, Vlad. I have your gladiator.”

“What is he saying? Has he gone fucking insane? Is that what this is?” You tug on Yunho’s sleeve gently in an attempt to urge the man to sit back down.

“I will fight for myself down in the arena, and my opponent shall be my own Berserker, Jongho.”

“You've truly lost your mind then, is that it? You would pit yourself – someone as weak and fragile as yourself – against a Berserker? Not only that, but one of the most dangerous Berserkers in the universe?”

“Yes, I would. Because that's the only way you would agree to these terms, isn't it?”

“How very insightful of you, Hongjoong,” Vladimir hums. “You are absolutely correct.”

“My men and I will be heading down now. You can save your escorts for our return.”

“Hm, I would advise you to be wary, Kim. An ego like that makes for an even harsher fall. You would be wise not to gloat too much before your fight. Nonetheless, I look forward to seeing you test your mettle in my arena. An ode to older times, no?”

Hongjoong leaves the man without another response, and Vladimir must not be pressing for one because he lets Hongjoong turn on his heel and leave without a fight. The silence that ensues is so thick and palpable that you nearly choke on it, and it lasts for far too long before Seonghwa’s voice is ringing harshly in your ears.

“You have legitimately lost your mind this time, Hongjoong,” he hisses out, and though the words are spoken in spite, you can clearly hear the wavering tone of worry in them.

“I have a plan.”

“To die?”

“Teams, reconvene at the base tunnel of the arena. Just follow the smell of blood and you’ll be able to find it without any trouble.” That order brings you to your feet in a heartbeat, and Wooyoung’s hand falls away from your leg as you rush to stand up. He stares a bit blankly up at you, body refusing to move from its place on the bench, and you grab for his hand to yank him upward.

“We have to go, Wooyoung,” you urge. Wooyoung nods but still he doesn’t budge, eyes glazed and hazy as he struggles to come back to reality. “Wooyoung, please.”

“I… Y/N, I-I…”

Whatever thoughts are running through his head die on his lips because he can’t manage to finish the sentence. You tug him to his feet with a bit more force, and he finally relents enough to get up and follow you. Yunho has already gotten to his feet and started making his way to the end of the row, and you trail after him with hurried steps. Your heart is thrumming hard against the confines of your chest, beating like a drum in your ears. All you can see is the broad expanse of Yunho’s back as you walk behind him, and you frankly have no idea if he knows where he’s headed but you still follow him blindly. Wooyoung shifts his hand to fit into yours. His fingers slip between yours, and you cling to the warmth just as hard as he does. It’s only when you start descending the stairs to reach the place where you entered earlier that Wooyoung decides to speak again, although part of you wishes he hadn’t said anything simply because of how heartbreaking his words are.

“I c-can’t watch him die, Y/N.” You twist to look him in the eye, regretting it in an instant, but you push through the pain of seeing his trembling lip and watering eyes.

“You won’t have to.”

It could be a lie for all you know but it’s enough for the time being, and Wooyoung falls silent to let you continue to pull him along. San and Jongho are waiting for you at the mouth of the tunnel, eyes wide and unblinking as the three of you step down the last of the stairs to meet up with them. There is no sign of Hongjoong and the others yet, but you know that it’s only a temporary relief for whatever hell is about to come.

Yunho steps in front of Jongho, hands coming to rest on the young Berserker’s shoulders. “Jongho—”

“Don’t,” Jongho interjects. “Don’t even try to say anything.”

“No, it isn’t fair of him to put you in this position. He shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t what?”

Again Yunho does not get to finish the thought, but this time it isn’t Jongho who interrupts him. You turn to face the source of the voice, knowing full well who it is, but seeing the captain standing at the edge of the stairs with his hand loosely gripping the wall does nothing to ease your worries. Yunho’s gaze softens minimally upon seeing Hongjoong. He doesn’t let it last long before the fire returns to his stare. Hongjoong doesn’t waver in the slightest.

“Shouldn’t force Jongho to fight you like this!”

“You think we haven’t had this conversation before?” Hongjoong asks, arching a brow in Yunho’s direction. He steps closer to the five of you. Seonghwa and Yeosang trail in behind him, and the moment the latter comes into sight, Wooyoung drops your hand to rush to his side. He hits Yeosang hard, nearly toppling him over with the force of his body, but the blond manages to catch his weight with little struggle and latches onto his waist with one arm. Hongjoong motions towards Jongho – a single dismissive wave that lasts less than a second. “We discussed this yesterday after you all left the bridge.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me — the rest of us?”

“As far as I’m concerned, this only truly affects Jongho. The rest of you will remain here and not be able to see what’s going on inside the arena until we both come out — alive. This is a show, Yunho. I’m not asking you to understand or agree with my reasoning, but I am asking you to comply.” Hongjoong steps around Yunho and continues down the tunnel, moving on towards the center of the arena, and he beckons for Jongho to follow him with a single finger.

Yunho darts a hand out to block Jongho’s path before he can follow after the captain.

“Vladimir won’t give you anything if both of you come out alive!”

Hongjoong comes to a halt where he is, and he heaves a deep sigh before turning around to face Yunho once more With several hesitant steps, Hongjoong returns to stand in front of the healer, eyes blazing as he reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a small lidded vial that has a murky white liquid in it. Yunho blinks down at it for a few seconds before he seems to recognize what it is.

“The hyacinth root? When did you…?”

“After you mentioned bringing some back from the market.” You hardly remember that day in the marketplace since it seems to have happened so long ago, but Hongjoong’s words jot your memories of what Yunho had told you that day.

“You can crush them up with peppermint leaves to create a paste that, when consumed, will slow your heart rate but keep you alive. It makes you seem dead when in actuality, you aren’t. It typically lasts between seven and ten minutes. Good for getaways or dupes.”

“Hongjoong, I don’t have the supplies for this. I won’t—”

“Yes, you will. The second we come out of there, Vlad’s guards will hand over Jongho’s body to you. Seonghwa will accompany me back up to see Vlad, but Yeosang must stay down here with Jongho’s body, or else they’ll be more suspicious than they already are. It’s just like what you did on Yuki—”

“I had supplies then! I was prepared for that! Not to mention I almost failed last time, and you nearly died, and that was when I had all the necessary supplies.” Yunho exclaims. “I can’t get the paste out of him without a decoction of violet stems and at least three other seeds and ground spices. I don’t know how you expect me to get it out of him in time without those things, and I especially don’t understand why you failed to mention this last night!”

“You say that like I didn’t try to mention it. You’ll have plenty of time to figure something out while we’re in the arena, but now we have to go before Vlad’s men come get us.” Hongjoong slips the vial back into his pocket, and this time when he turns, Yunho doesn’t try to stop him – either because he’s conceding or he truly doesn’t know what he can say to stop Hongjoong. Jongho steps around Yunho’s outstretched arm and follows after the captain without a word. He doesn’t wait for them to be out of earshot before whipping around to glare Seonghwa down with fire in his eyes.

“And here I thought your duty as lieutenant was to prevent him from doing stupid things.”

“Now is not the time for this,” Yeosang says, pulling a bit away from Wooyoung to step between the two.

“Preach all you want about how much you care about him and how you would sacrifice anything for him, but the reality is that you don’t give a shit about his well-being!” Yunho continues to berate Seonghwa and pays no attention to Yeosang’s interruption. He jabs a finger at the lieutenant’s face, but Seonghwa reaches up to sway the offending hand away in an instant.

“Sacrifice and trust go hand in hand,” Seonghwa says, managing to maintain a surprisingly steady tone in the face of Yunho’s rage. “I would not let him set a single foot in that arena if I did not trust his promise to come out alive. And would he let me, I would be the one going in there.”

“Vladimir expects them to tear each other apart!”

“These risks are no greater than the ones we have experienced in the past. They will both come out of there.” Hongjoong must have said something to Seonghwa on the way down for him to suddenly be so sure of this. Either that or Seonghwa is forcing the words out in a desperate attempt to believe it himself.

“And do you not care that this could kill Jongho? If I can’t figure something out before they drag his body back in here, he will die because of this!”

“Then you ought to stop arguing with me and start thinking of a solution to this issue.  Or perhaps you should have listened to Hongjoong last night when he tried to tell you what the plan was.”

“When he dies, the blame will be on your shoulders for not doing more to stop Hongjoong,” Yunho hisses.

“How so? You’re so quick to push the blame off yourself already, yet the responsibility to save him falls on your shoulders, Yunho. I’m not going to stand here and fight with you over this. You have the ability to save Jongho even without those supplies. The only person doubting you right now is yourself.”

“I don’t doubt my own abilities. Jongho will not fight back in there. Don’t you realize that? In order for this to be believable, Hongjoong will have to beat him down to near death. Jongho’s body will reject whatever treatments I try to give him without the decoction as a method of protection, but that will only end up killing him because I won’t be able to get the hyacinth paste out of him in time.”

“Captain won’t hurt him.”

You don’t need to turn to see who has just stepped in, but you do nonetheless at least for the smallest semblance of confirmation. It doesn’t make it any easier to see who stands at the edge of the tunnel, bright light cascading around his tall form and casting crude shadows across the floor as he walks closer to the group. You swallow around nothing in anticipation although nothing could prepare you for what Mingi says next.

“Because I’m the one going in there, not Jongho.”

✧✧✧ a/n: yall idek what even happened to be honest my brain is NUMB also i wrote the smut scene last so if it’s a lil bit weak im sorry T-T also lemme know what you think a whole lot happened again :o

taglist: @faeriewoobin​ @sugarrimajins​ @atinyinwonderland​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon​ @sparklychangbin​ @jeong-uwu​ @jeonartemis​ @anothershorthuman​ @xxbluestrifexx​​ @haotheheckk​ @noonawriter​ @lostscenarios​ @nlost21​ @mirror-juliet​ @okokokok123-45 @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @takitaro @vampire-jimin @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @felixity

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Artemis Rising

The story of a Goddess and a Demi God, star crossed lovers whose story was lost to the complexity of history. The truth is they were wronged. All because of the jealousy of a brother. Can they escape their fate in a modern age? Can reincarnation allow her to finally reunite with the ones who loved her?

genre: angst ; reincarnation/Greek mythology au ; werewolf au

pairing: Yoongi x reader; ot7 x reader ; ft: Ateez

warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse towards reader, vengeful ot7, inaccurate description of Ateez as aggressive (they’re sweet babies I swear! But Eomma needed a bad guy), fighting, character death, of age drinking (more to be added mayhaps?)

Word count: 3197

Chapter 2

Above the moon waned, it’s glorious light barely casting a glow upon the stilled seas that would normally grace sweet Gaia’s shores.

“My child, why do you weep so?” Leto stepped from the shadows. The soothing calm that normally encased the Titan Goddess of motherhood was gone, replaced with a sense of distress and panic at the sight of her precious daughter weeping upon a piece of sea swept driftwood.

“Mother…” Artemis sobbed, reaching out to the tall figure and crumpling into her lap.

“Artemis, my darling. Speak to me. Who is the cause of your tears?”

It took the moon goddess a while to answer, so wrapped up in her grief that her entire body trembled and the moon shed a little more of its light, now barely a sliver in the sky.

“It’s O...Orion. He’s...he’s gone mother. By mine own hand…”

Leto gasped, pulling away to stare down at Artemis with wide eyes.

“The young hunter boy? The one who’d caught your eye and joined you in your hunts?”

“The very same. Oh mother what do I do?”

The night wore on as the goddess of the moon wept, seeking comfort in the arms of Leto who could only stroke her back in comfort and attempt to soothe her broken soul.

The sun began to rise, it’s golden glow muted and pale as Apollo approached.

“Son. Is this your doing?” A hint of anger leached into the benevolent Titan’s voice as she gave her only son a heated stare.

“Mother...I…”

“You knew it was him!” Artemis stood, short sword in hand as she rounded on her once beloved brother. “You knew and you challenged me anyway! All of this born of your stupid misplaced jealousy!” 

“Sister, please I just…”

Artemis cut him off, lunging forward with all of the intent of driving the golden steel of the Gods through his chest.

“Artemis no!!”

***

Panic gripped me as I lunged forward, arm outstretched as if attempting to reach...something.

I shook my head in bewilderment, hoping the motion would wake me up enough to remember the dream that had left me with tear stained cheeks and a pillow soaked in my own grief. As with every other dream of mine though, it’d faded too fast. A wisp of a thing fading away in the morning light.

I sighed, finally allowing my hand to fall to the coolness of the bedsheet. A glance beside me let me know that once again Hongjoong had woken long before me...that or he’d never come to bed as the sheets beside me were as cold and empty as always.

I sighed again, letting the loneliness of the early morning caress my cheeks and dry the tears left over from the formless nightmare. Eventually I was able to get myself motivated enough to get up and start the day. It was honestly a perk working from home that I didn’t have a specific time to get up. But I preferred working on my writing early on in the day so that I could have the evenings to myself to relax and do whatever needed to be done before Hongjoong got home.

After a quick shower and change of clothes I made my way down to the kitchen in the hopes of having a quiet breakfast.

"Miss…"

I couldn't help the squeak that left my lips when Yeosang's strong, deep voice echoed through the vast expanse of the kitchen. Eyes wide I stared at his broad back, confused as to how he even knew I was standing in the doorway. Standing at the stove was Seonghwa, cooking away in a world of his own.

At Yeosang’s acknowledgement of my presence Seonghwa glanced over to me. I couldn’t help but wither under his intense stare. A frown formed between his eyebrows as he took in the bruise on my left cheek that I’d failed to cover up with several layers of concealer along with the way I shrunk away from their combined stares.

Neither of them commented though and it came as a relief that they turned back to their respective tasks after a moment more of silence. 

“There’s omelet rolls on the way. Meat’s cooked and on the table.” Seonghwa’s words weren’t spoken to anyone but I knew they were aimed at me. Whispering out a quick thank you I scurried over to the dining table, head down and eyes pinned to the small pile of bacon sitting before me.

The rest of the meal was delivered quickly, the imposing men’s silence deafening as usual as they seemed to tiptoe around me. I’d come to expect and accept it at this point as it seemed that each of my bodyguards was absolutely terrified of reaching out to me in any way.

I could have used the comfort. Used some sort of touch or a soothing word to get through the monotony of my days. But I suppose that’s what Yoongi was for…

So I turned to him. Once dishes were done and put away I began texting him, checking in on his day, asking the usual best friend questions and hanging on to every time the phone would vibrate while I worked in the relative quiet of my little writing corner. Before I’d even realized it, the day had moved on without me.

I glanced up out of the window, startling myself at the abrupt darkness that had swallowed the day and cast the world into the deepest recesses of twilight. Somehow I’d missed lunch and dinner, and the hunger gnawed at my stomach in a way that made me nervous just thinking about it.

Hongjoong would be home by now, and the mere thought of facing him after last night set me on edge.

“Have you been holed up in here all day?”

I couldn’t help the squeak of fear that escaped me. Whipping around I stared wide eyed at Hongjoong who’d somehow walked into my office without me hearing and was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hongjoong...I...I didn’t hear you come in…” I pressed my hand against my chest, struggling to still the rapid beating of my heart.

He smirked, dropping his arms and pushing away from the doorframe. His movements were so smooth, so calculated. My gaze swept his figure as he stalked towards me like a predator, noting he was still in his business suit and tie though the latter was untied and hung loosely from his neck.

“Good. You weren’t supposed to.”

I shrunk down in my chair as he towered over me, shadows cast on his face making it hard to gauge his mood or what he could possibly want with me.

“Your meeting. It went well I hope?” No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shove the slight quiver in my voice down and I hated myself for it. Hated that his presence alone struck such a level of fear in me even without him having done anything.

“Hmm…” His noncommittal hum echoed through the room and some part of me screamed in disgust at the way my body sagged with relief when he turned away from me and moved back to the bedroom door.

“I met with a few social acquaintances of mine.” Ever so slowly he closed the door, as if shutting the world out of our conversation. It wasn’t really necessary, no one here would ever dare walk in on him without announcing themselves first. 

“Oh?” My tongue darted out to wet my lips and his eyes followed the motion almost hungrily. I couldn’t help but suppress the shudder of fear that raced through my bloodstream.

 “You’re...acquaintances with that popular boy band...yes?” I couldn’t quite tell what he was after. His tone of voice was flat, almost as if he was already bored with the conversation even though he’d been the one to initiate it.

I turned in my computer chair to face him fully, watching as he leaned heavily on the closed door and folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m friends with them, yeah. Is...there…”

The sly grin that flashed across his face set every alarm bell ringing in my head. He was planning something, and the implications could honestly mean anything but none of it was anything good.

“I want you to invite them to the party tomorrow night. Make sure they come, no exceptions.” 

I blinked, head tilting to the side as I followed his every move. He pushed away from the wall, stalking over to me slowly. It took everything in me to sit still instead of retreating back into myself as the predatory threat loomed over me in the form of Hongjoong’s imposing figure.

I stared at his chest for a moment as he pressed his hands on either side of me on the desk, effectively caging me in. When I’d finally found the nerve to look him in the eyes the fire there had me instantly shrinking in on myself.

“I want them there, no exceptions. No excuses.”

“Y...yes, okay Hongjoong…”

He continued staring at me for a long moment, face morphing into various emotions from distaste to mistrust and finally settling on neutral disgust. Grabbing my chin he pulled me close, sealing his lips against mine in some form of possessive dominance that had me melting in to him despite every cell of my being wanting to pull away and protect myself from him.

“That’s my good girl.” Patting my cheek he turned and marched off, leaving me confused and irritated with myself for the display of weakness.

***

“Hyung, remind me why we agreed to this again?” Jungkook coughed, slim fingers curled into the collar of his tie as he struggled to breathe around it.

“Because y/n asked us to, that’s why.” Seokjin growled, grabbing the young boy by the arm and twirling him just enough to reposition the tie accordingly and allow Jungkook to breathe.

“Well, I mean besides that…'' Jungkook blushed, eyes darting through the entryway and into the rest of the massive mansion. It’d taken everything Yoongi had to convince them to take their one day off to support their best friend. They’d been all for it up until he mentioned it’d been to support Kim Hongjoong’s ‘important announcement’. At that point they’d just about all gotten up and walked away until he mentioned she’d begged him specifically.

“Well here’s to hoping the food is at least good…” Taehyung muttered as he shoved his way into the entry hall and tossed his overly long coat at the poor overloaded coat rack in the corner.

“I swear if that fucker tries to make trouble for her tonight I’m going to tear his throat out.” Hoseok growled, eyes narrowed to slits as he’d just spotted the man in question.

Hongjoong strutted across the hall, disappearing through the large glass doors that led out to the lanai and the massive back yard where the main portion of the party was held.

“We’ll do no such thing.” Namjoon said. He placed a calming hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, giving the younger men each a piercing look that set them back to their relaxed state of alert once more.

“At least not until she’s ready to let him go and come home with us.” Yoongi huffed. He nodded for the lanai. “Let’s get out there, our girl needs us.”

The group complied, putting on their idol faces and smiling and waving to the small crowd that gathered as soon as they stepped out into the fairy light lit backyard. Finding her wasn’t hard. She flitted to and fro, handling one disaster or another while keeping a small smile plastered on her face as she played hostess to the hundreds of guests that’d been invited to witness whatever it was Hongjoong had planned to announce.

There even appeared to be several high ranking members of the press hanging around. Most hovering over the buffet style food tables while others interviewed various members of the staff along with guests in the hopes of getting an exclusive on what this party could be about.

“Vultures…” Yoongi muttered as he nursed the cup of punch he’d been handed by some faceless waiter.

“Aye, but they have their use. Keeps the eye on Hongjoong and off of me.” The soft voice that whispered beside him had him instantly grinning.

“Well hi there gorgeous.” He turned to her, eyes darting over her form to take in the sultry green dress she’d donned. The silken material hugged her in places that had him salivating, luckily though he was able to school his features quickly before she or anyone else could notice the hungry look he’d barely been able to control.

“Oh hush Yoongs. You know this is my least favorite dress.” She blushed, turning away from him to subtly fan the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Yeah, that may be. But anyone would be a fool not to appreciate what you’re flaunting.” He snickered half heartedly, hoping she’d take it as a joke and not as the truth he so desperately wanted to scream at her no matter who happened to be watching.

“Thank you for coming, Yoongi…” She whispered, eyes darting over to the grand stage Hongjoong had insisted be set up in the center of the garden.

“Anything for you little moon.” His words went unheard though as Hongjoong chose that moment to clear his throat into the microphone and interrupt any conversation that may have been taking place.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I’d like to have your attention for a moment if you don’t mind!”

“As you are all aware, my family has been a leading edge to our beautiful city for many a generation. My father swore to uphold the law to the best of his ability, and when he passed several years ago it left a void in so many people’s hearts. His father before him served as well, standing with his fellow citizens to fight against oppression and the government corruption that’d been keeping us all down up until his final breath.” Hongjoong bowed his head as the crowd applauded, cheering his forefathers and shouting various praises as to Hongjoong’s own accomplishments.

He held up a hand, shooting them all a winning smile as they quieted down to allow him to continue.

“Pompous prick…” Yoongi muttered, taking a sip of his punch to hide the movement of his lips.

“Tonight we are gathered here, not only in celebration, but in unity. To come together not as reporters and millionaires and chefs and idols. But as fellow citizens brought together by a single cause, to make this city great again! To make our neighborhoods safer and our children safer. To bring us all together under one unified cause so that we can make Seoul great again!”

The crowd roared to life, cheering Hongjoong’s name and surging forward to crowd the stage as he smiled upon them on like so many obedient children.

“And so!” He spoke over the cheers, somehow making himself heard despite the noise. “I’m officially announcing myself as being in the running for mayor. Rejoice! For change is here!”

The woman beside Yoongi squeaked, her face deathly pale as she seemed to be on the verge of either throwing up or passing out. Yoongi knew that look, knew the impending panic attack that came along with it and began ushering her towards the relative safety of the house.

“Yoongi I…”

“Hush little moon, let’s get you inside and away from this crowd.” His fingers curled around her arm and she seemed to want to lean into the touch, but just before they could reach the door she stopped and turned to him with a wide eyed stare.

“I...I was supposed to make sure we had more sauce for the shrimp cocktail… I...I can’t go in just yet…”

A throat cleared behind them and Yoongi instantly dropped his hand, turning to address the newly announced politician.

“Hongjoong..” Yoongi nodded, barely a jerk of his head in confirmation of the man’s presence really but it was just visible enough as to not seem disrespectful of the man’s status.

“Ah! The famous Min Yoongi!” The politician grinned, pulling his woman close and gripping her hip tightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard many good things about you from my precious fiancé.”

Yoongi grunted in response. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, claws growing and sharpening in response to his growing rage. At the first pinch of pain as they broke the skin he released his fists, forcing his fingers to hang limply at his side.

“Y/n, have you dealt with the catering issues my dear?”Hongjoong turned to her, eyes piercing into her own. It was him dismissing her from the conversation.

She glanced over to Yoongi, eyes filled with apology as she bowed low to the both of them, nearly bent in half as she excused herself from the conversation.

Hongjoong watched her leave, his stare predatory in nature as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

“I heard you’re running for mayor.” Yoongi spoke quietly, knowing the puffed up man would be able to hear him over the noise of the crowd of partygoers. 

“Ah, you have?” Hongjoong turned back to Yoongi, that predatory glare still filling his eyes with an insanity that only those born to create chaos and destroy others could possess. ���It’s a lofty goal I know. But I feel the need to change things comes with power. And this world could really use a little bit of change don’t you think?”

Yoongi knew he didn’t mean positive change of any kind. This man was far too prone to violence to mean anything more than chaos and destruction. 

“How does y/n feel about all this?” Yoongi casually took a sip of his drink. He angled his body away from Hongjoong slightly, eyes darting around the garden. He spotted Jimin and Namjoon heading towards y/n and a small part of him relaxed greatly.

“Y/n? Now why would her opinion matter in the slightest?”

At that Yoongi returned the entirety of his attention to the mad man. “Why...she’s going to be your wife soon. Doesn’t the idea that she’s being thrust into the limelight bother her?”

Hongjoong shrugged, lifting his glass to take a sip of champagne. “Honestly no. She knew my goals before she said yes. If she has anything negative to say about it she’ll tell me and we can address it accordingly.”

The pure menace in his tone let Yoongi know the discussion wouldn’t be very long and would almost surely end up with her gaining a new bruise or two, if not a trip to the hospital.

“For her sake Hongjoong...I really do hope you have her best interests at heart…” Yoongi turned to the man, his drink long forgotten as he fixed the man with a fierce glare.

“Because if anything else happens to her and I find you...you’ll wish you’d stayed in whatever gutter hole you crawled out of to get here.”

[g0ttal0ve101]

Eddie if Zack/Someone killed Lucian :)?

.

Heh. Pain.

🤍

Eddie gazed at the water crystal blue water, smiling softly. Making graves earlier today had him in a good mood. Now that it was night, he managed to sneak out before Albert could come beat him and relaxed by the small stream that laid near his pet cemetery. Although he was supposed to be calm, something in his heart was tugging. Almost as if something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what. Something deep inside worried him.

"Ed...Eddie..."

Eddie's eyes widen as his head whips to the left of him. He heard a faint cry from further down the creek that sounded awfully like someone he knew. The feeling of dread he felt before was now coming a reality. He quickly stood up and rushed towards the voice, his eyes meeting with a sight he could have never imagined.

Lucian's bloody body laying on the luscious green grass, staining it with a crimson red. His pale skin seemed even paler underneath the moonlight. Of course, Eddie dropped to his knees and immediately helped him sit up, seeing blood pouring from his head. So much blood.

"L-LUCIAN!" Eddie cried, unwrapping his red scarf from around his neck and trying his best to stop the bleeding. His eyes swept down his entire body, seeing he was wounded practically everywhere with glass shards sticking from his limbs. Despite looking like a ghost, Lucian laughed softly with tears rolling down his cheeks. "L-Lucian! What happened?!"

"Am...Am I gonna...die, Eddie?"

Eddie's heart jumped to his throat. From the amount of blood he was losing...

"N-NO! SHUT UP, YOU'RE NOT GONNA DIE!"

Lucian laughed again, this time even weaker. "Marigold...my dear marigold..." he fell into Eddie's arms, holding him with all the strength he had left. "It's okay...I...I wanted...to come...here so that...you could bury me..." Eddie didn't know what to do. He was so shocked that he couldn't even move or think. Everything was going in slow motion. "...Y'know...I...I...always liked you...more than..."

"L-Lucian...! Please, no! Please...please, stop it! You're not gonna die! I-I-I won't l-let you!" Eddie let him go and rested him against the trunk of a tree, sobbing out of control. "N-No...no...!"

Lucian gazed deeply at the crying boy. He could feel the blood pouring from all of his wounds which made him dizzy, however, he was more concerned about those tears of his. He was sobbing even though he would be the one to bury his childhood friend. For a moment, it confused Lucian.

"Eddie...it's...it's okay..." He reaches for Eddie's cheek, stroking it with his pale fingertips. "You don't need to...cry like that...I don't wanna see you cry..." Lucian then gave him a gentle smile. It seemed different from all the ones Eddie had seen, it was so genuine without any fault or concern. Pure joy to spend his last moments with Eddie. "Because...I...love you..."

Eddie's heart began to race with excitement. A mutual love that will last forever, right? All he had to do is make him eternal and they could share that feeling together until the end of time! That's what he would've thought if it weren't for those wounds. If he didn't do it now, Lucian would be stolen from him. He would die by the hand of his mother. That's not what he wanted, not at all.

Now...

Now.

He has to do it now.

Lucian's eyes grew more hollow than ever, the life seeping out of him. Eddie stood up and lifted his shovel, panicking. The genuine grin Lucian made was turning to an unreadable expression.

He has to die now.

"Eddie..." Lucian's voice grew so weak that you could barely describe it as a whisper. Eddie's tears were continuously falling from his face into the flowerbed beneath them, staining their petals ever so slightly. "...does this mean...you love me...too...?"

"I-I do!" Eddie wept, his hands trembling more than ever before. He couldn't move from his standing position. In fact, he was so devastated that he could barely keep his balance. For some reason, he just wanted to hold Lucian close without having to do this. But he would become like that little bird if Eddie didn't kill him.

Lucian closes his eyes with a bigger smile. "I'm glad...hey, you know...you look...scared..." his breaths became shorter and shorter from the amount of blood he was losing. "My final moments...belong to you...and only you, Eddie...if you're afraid of...killing me then...you don't...have...to..."

"L-LUCIAN!" Eddie drops his shovel and launches himself into his arms. He cried into his blood stained shirt, his entire body shaking from the fear of being alone completely. Lucian kept his smile, wrapping his arms around Eddie and patting his head just as he used to do.

"...It's okay...it's okay..."

"STOP IT! NOTHING IS OKAY, PLEASE DON'T GO! I-I LOVE YOU, LUCIAN! I-I-I ALWAYS HAVE! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!"

"I-I love you t-too, Eddie..." Lucian choked, his tears mixing with Eddie's. No matter how he truly felt, he continued to smile for him.

"Lucian, please!" Eddie grabbed his shoulders and looked at him, seeing that smile. But...

He didn't see any life from him.

His body was limp as it rested on the tree trunk. No breathing, no heartbeat, nothing.

"Lucian..." Eddie's eyes were huge and his tears stopped. "Lucian...Lulu...? Hey..." his heart sunk further as Lucian's head rocked forward as Eddie shook him. No life whatsoever. The smile turned into a soft expression, looking as if he were only sleeping peacefully. Blood dripped down his forehead and onto Eddie, yet, no sign. "Hey...HEY! LUCIAN! LUCIAN, WAKE UP!”

But there was no reply.

“No…no…” Eddie held Lucian close, biting his tongue so hard that it began to bleed. He was trying to hard not to scream on the top of his lungs after all. Seeing his beaten body, he clenched his shirt into fists. “…Who did this to you…? Who…? Your mom…?” his voice fumed with anger. His chest felt tighter and tighter from being so enraged. His mind began to spin all in which had one solution.

. . .

“That’s it…” Eddie lifted Lucian into his arms, taking him to the meadow they used to play in as children. Flowers grew all around, little animals roaming, this is where he’d make Lucian happy. Then,

He’d do it better.

He’d make everything better.

Immediately getting to work, Eddie spoke to Lucian as he did before. As if he weren’t even dead. He told him every step he took to make this grave, what flowers he was going to pick, how bunnies and other small animals would roam around happily around the headstone. Overall, he overworked himself until his arms felt too heavy to even move. It needed sanded more, now it needed more detail, now it need more flowers, less flowers, the name should be fancier, the date needed to be more legible, over and over again. It had to be perfect. After all, he truly loved him. Ever since they were little kids. So…

He knew if he was gone…

“It’s done…” Eddie murmured, dropping his shovel and walking to his beloved. “…all done…” he then pulled Lucian into his arms and rested his head on his bloody chest. He still felt warm, but his blood was now drying onto his skin and clothes. Eddie didn’t want that. So, without a second thought, he stood up and walked to the stream, getting some water and rubbing the blood off of his body. He couldn’t get his clothes to be the way they were, but his pale skin was much clearer, as for his wounds as well.

Glass.

Eddie found glass in the gash on Lucian’s head, ultimately the cause of his death. Looking at the glass, he saw that it must have come from some sort of wine bottle. One huge smash to the head and poor Lucian bled out.

Eddie clenched his teeth. It must of been that rotten mother of his. Always intoxicated without a care in the world, it was her fault that Lucian died. All of her fault, all of it was!

“I’ll bury you now…” Eddie coaxed to him softly, giving him another hug. “then, you’ll be mine. I…love you, my dear Lucian.”

That being said, Eddie rested Lucian into the coffin he had hauled out from the shed, adjusting his hands to fold on his stomach and putting flowers in his white hair to cover the blood stains. He looked so elegant and beautiful, almost as if he was just sleeping. Slowly, Eddie grabbed the lid to seal him in before tearing up. This would be the last time to see him. Normally, he’d feel so overjoyed, but knowing how much pain he went through before dying just completely drowned him in sorrow. How terrible it was.

“I already miss you. I don’t think I can live without you..” Eddie whispers with a smile. “but I know I’ll see you again. I have no worries about that! I’ll see you…very soon.”

Pulling out his father’s revolver from with front pocket, Eddie puts the barrel up against his temple. “That’s right! I’ll see you right now! In our own grave, Lucian! Ours and ours alone! Isn’t it pretty?! ISN’T IT LOVELY?! HAHAHA, IT IS, ISN’T IT?! ALBERT, CARL, GEORGE, MOMMA, DAD, THEY’LL ALL FORGET ME! IT DOESN’T MATTER! AND SINCE I LOVE YOU THIS MUCH…! SINCE I COULDN’T MAKE YOUR DEATH BEAUTIFUL AND PEACEFUL, I SHOULD DIE TOO!”

And with that, Eddie pulled the trigger.

[revirushifaa]

OK HFHEFEFBUEHFEFUEFEBFEB THAT MAMMON ANGSTY DRABBLE AHHHHHH--- ok ok, I calmed down lol. Can there be a continuation? Like MC reborns as an angel but in the meantime Mammon faces his brothers scorn and rejection?? For more angst!!

Anon.... you enjoy putting poor Mammon through so much I see. Regardless, yes, I shall give you a second part of this. Though I won't have the brothers hate on Mam forever!

There you go!

---------------------------

Reborn As An Angel

The following days after Mammon caused MC to die because of his outburst over thinking they betrayed him with that other demon unpurpose had been pure hell for the greedy demon, he was faced with his brothers' scorn and cold rejection toward him, none of the six brothers held a long conversation with him, it was just curt phrases and harsh looks on him. Mammon was currently going through severe depression, he couldn't believe himself at all, his sweet human, the one who showed him what real love was, was dead. Gone. All was his fault, his fault alone.

"Morning...?" Mammon said timidly as he walked into the dining room, and only was greeted with cold silence as the other brother's ate, like they hadn't heard himjust walking in and talking to them. He sighed, walking over to his seat.

"I am eating in my study." Lucifer immediately got up and took his plate, walking quickly away from the others.

Mammon didn't say anything, but that hurt him, his older brother going out because he came down to eat, like how he was very used to. "Levi, little brother-"

"No. I got my own things to do, than to being with a murderer." Leviathan got up from his seat and walked out too, in another direction from Lucifer to his aquarium.

The word 'murderer' jabbed into Mammon's heart, like a million of daggers stabbing him continously, he was hurting, and his brothers couldn't see that he knew his mistake perfectly, but none of them were willing to forgive him.

"S-Satan-"

Satan didn't even speak to him a word, just moved out in silence, like if Mammon was just an invisible being that was non-existent.

The second-born sighed, turning to Asmodeus.

As soon as he was about to open his mouth the lust demon held out his hand. "Busy with my nails." there was a fierce coldness in his voice, so unnatrual of him, given how sweet-spoken he was most of the time.

"Beel? Beel, hear me out please, don't leave me, like the others, all I need to say is-"

"There is nothing that can excuse murder, Mammon. And I don't even know if I even consider you my brother anymore. How could you hurt such a sweet human who only wanted your attention and you pushed them away, causing them to choose another demon, only for you to have such a temper tantrum that did nothing but costed their life, I am not even sure how can they forgive their murderer. I'm not up to being near you. Not now. And never." Beelzebub snapped at his older brother, and took his meal with him, going to his room.

Mammon sighed, and put his hands on his eyes, letting out those tears once again. It was official, all of his brothers hated him, not that he blamed them, he loathed himself deeply, and had done a number of cuts to his skin.

"Yes, hate me, little brothers and big brother, I don't deserve any forgiveness... MC was the only one giving me that attention that I wanted to keep hidden and not admit it... it was all my fault.... completely.... MC, I'm so sorry...." he collaposed onto the ground from the living room, sobbing heavily, mumbling MC'S name and whimpering apologies, broken apologies that he didn't have someone to apologies anymore, his sweet human was no longer with him, and will never be with him, no matter how much he cried their name or apologized to them... nothing could bring them back to him.

"I AM SO SORRY.....!!"

The second-born had a big breakdown in the dining room, choking on his sobs and hiccups.

No one to hold him or comfort him, there was literally no one in there, he was all by himself, he had to self-comfort himself once he had finished breaking down, something that he didn't know if he would ever do, his more than shattered heart ached him to where it couldn't ache him more, he was slowly beginning to feel numb to everything, given how he was crying aser? he held MC's lifeless body, the other brothers came and began hurling a sea of hurtful words and they hurt him and kicked him one by one, he wasn't allowed at MC's funeral at the Human World, he stood locked in his room as Lucifer severly roughed him up in there and forbid him to come out for days, until this one day.

--

The next weeks were the same, nothing changed, Mammon was now the outcast of the family, while the other brothers walked in the front together, he walked slowly at the back, a distance separating him from them, he took to eating in his room, the events that they had together, he wasn't in them, he only heard and imagine how much fun they were having, he was a very lonely demon, none of them were willing to forgive him or call him a brother anymore.

"Lucifer? Lucifer, I'm going out, I need to walk, won't come back late." He said a bit unsure at his older brother, as the oldest only shrugged.

"Whatever, do what you please. I do not care at all." Lucifer answered with coldness in his tone, he didn't even look into his direction, only continued doing those papers that he always signed.

Mammon tried to talk to his older brother finally gathering a bit of courage to do so. "Lucifer, please, I didn't mean all that, I was just mad-"

"Your anger costed the life of a human that did not deserve what they got. Are you telling me that your acts should not have consequences, Mammon? That we just should forget this and act as if it wasn't a grave matter? Is that what you are trying to tell me?" Now pinning his younger brother with his icey glare, Lucifer stood up, with his arms over his chest, folded.

Mammon shivered and whined internally, for his brother's unforgiving gaze was sending shivers down his spine. "N-no! I-I'm not saying that I'm innocent! I regret what I did and I don't seek for your pity or mercy, I-I just-"

"You just what, Mammon? Wanted to be there as the show off that you are, not even thinking before you act. Now you see the consequences of your acts, you caused this and won this treatment, you, yourself only. You are the disgrace of this family, and I don't think you can can be called a brother anymore."

The same words that Beel told him before. "You can't be called a brother anymore." Mammon sniffled, tears again pouring out his eyes. "Lucifer please, you gotta believe me, it was the blind rage that consumed me, if I wasn't in control of all my senses I would've stopped at once! Hurting MC to death was certainly not what I wanted... p-please brother.... forgive me...." in tears he begged of his older brother.

Lucifer growled at his younger brother's weak emotional form. " Stop crying! You deserve this and this something that you will get for centuries, do not expect my forgiveness in a long, LONG time. Now stop that, you look like a fool! Of course, you have always been a fool. all you have in that head is just a wall of diminute grain of rice. Reckleness that you never learned how to control. ...Do me a favor and disappear for now, I cannot stand seeing your face."

"L-Lucifer-" Soobing deeply, Mammon still tried.

"GO." Lucifer slapped his brother in the face, injuring his cheek, and pushed him away from his sight, throwing him out of the house, the door was slammed shut.

Mammon held his stinging cheek and stood there for several moments, seeing how he was kicked out from his own house, he shook his head and began running away from there, there was no security or love anymore. Even if there was love anyway, but now all was terrible, horrible, he never felt so hated in his life.

--

After several moments of just running without a real direction or distination, Mammon sat on a bench from there, he had tripped a lot and now had furthered the pain the he felt in his cheek, but nothing could compare the pain that he felt in his heart, knowing he had been left alone, and that he had no family no more. He put his hands on his eyes and wept for only lord knows how much.

Until he heard a beep coming from his pocket and pulled out his D.D.D. thinking maybe one of his other brothers had forgiven him, though once he saw the text and the name, his heart stopped cold for a split second.

MC.

MC had texted him.

His human....

Was this not some rancid and cruel joke from one of his brothers?

"T-this better not be a joke from the others, or I will not take it..."

But then...

"Mammon..."

Mammon's eyes snapped opened and he whirled iimediately to the sound of the familiar voice. "M-M-MC..." he choked on his spit and sniffled. "I-Is this really you...?"

Their hands cupped his cheek and immediately that red mark vanished. They were an angel now, and they had the healing ability.

"Of course, Mammon, it is I, MC, who promised you that would come back to you."

Mammon cried and sobbed in his arms as he held them so tightly, as fearing they would vanish if he let them go, he didn't want to let them go. "O-oh... oh M-Mc, I'm so sorry... I'm really so sorry.... I hurt you to death and... and.."

"Shhh. I have forgotten your sin against me, Mammon, Avatar of Greed, there's no need to keep dwelling in your guilt. All has been forgiven." They spoke with such tenderness, that only broke the repentant demon in their arms more. He really didn't believe that he deserved them once again with him, he was the reason for their death, why would them come again and forgive him when all he was was a good-for-nothing loser that didn't think before acting. Yet, here they were, so forgiving to him and holding him as if nothing had happened before.

"But MC, I killed you... how can you come back to me when I have done such terrible thing." Mammon sobbed a lot more in their arms.

"Because, I have chosen to forget about my previous life, and come back to love you as you deserve, your constant crying in the nights showed how much you regretted doing what you did, you have earned this second chance yourself, my dearest demon." They pet his disheveled white hair which was messy from all the falls he'd had when running away from HoL.

"Oh, MC....!" Mammon felt happy again in weeks, feeling the joy from a long time ago without tragedy happened. For sure he won't let himself kill MC in ablind rage again, he would accept his second chance, show them that he can change and live for the better. "I love you, my angel."

"As I love you. Now let's go back hime and show the others I'm back. " Angel MC suggested they did that, seeing how they had been acting toward Mammon during the past few weeks. Mammon sniffled and looked down.

"They hate me, MC. They really do, they can't see me in a painting.."

"I'll change that, now come with me."

--

Back home the brothers were about to have lunch, when Mammon came back and took a deep breathe. "All of you."

But they didn't even pay attention to him and continued doing what they were doing.

MC then walked in and cleared their throat, to get their attention.

"You."

Lucifer blinked and looked up, his eyes widening at what he saw. "MC? But how...?"

"MC?! MC is that you, really you?!" Levi gasped, how was this even possible?

"MC!" Satan was just as flabbergasted as his other brothers. MC, who died by Mammon's hand was back.

"Oh, dear, you're back to me!" Asmo chimed in, because he had been very woeful over the loss of that sweet human, that he could tell was an angel now.

"MC..." Beel looked on, munching on some snack as usual he was.

"Yes, I am back. And I'm not happy with how you all have treated Mammon, can't you see that he's your brother?" MC said, crossing their arms over their chest.

"He killed you!" Satan snarled, protesting. "He's your murderer and yet, you forgive him?" he said increadulous.

"I can't believe, that you can forgive him after all that!" Levi argued back, not understanding that idea as well.

"You seriously forgave your murderer just like that?" Lucifer didn't understand what he was hearing at all. In other words he was baffled with MC being defensive of Mammon.

"Flower, can't you see that murderers cannot be forgiven?" Asmo also joined in the confusion train.

"Munch. munch, munch, that's been just too pure to even regard dying by a demon's cold hand!" Beel exclaimed, he didn't understand why they could forgive their murderer.

"I chose to forgive him by my own will, and I'm back, that's what's more important than you treating your brother like crap, if you want to become closer, you cannot treat MAMMON THAT WAY. hE'S VERY SORRY AND IT'S ENOUGH FOR ME TO KNOW THAT HE REALLY DID REGRET FULL TIME WHAT HE DID, i AM NOT ABOUT TO HOLD A GRUDEGE TO HIM." They said all those words and made emphasis to them.

The other brothers looked at one another and then at Mammon, who still was sniffling and tearing up. Slowly, they began feeling empathy, that they lacked.

"Mammon..." first was Lucifer . "I know I have been quite harsh, but I was mad for what you did, but I can really see too, that you regretted all that, MC wouldn't have come here if you hadn't. Welcome to the family, again." He said that most to Mammon's shocok, but quickly subsided to joy.

"Yes, bro. I'm sorry for treating you how I did. Brothers?" Levi not being good with apologies, had it hard but he managed to come up with a sincere apology.

"No more ignoring from my part, even if what you did was just the awful of things you could've done, but MC forgives you, so do I." Satan stopped showing his mormal angry face, he meant what he said about forgiving his brother.

"Brother dear, I can forget like cute MC has forgotten, no need for me to keep pushing you away, welcome back, to us." Asmo returned to speaking to his sweet-spoken tone, no longer angry with Mammon.

"Yes, Mammon, you're my big brother again." Beel said that in a truly honest tone of voice, swallowing what he had in his mouth.

"Welcome back, Mammon!"

Mammon was surprised by a glomp that all younger brothers gave him, and much to his utter shock, Lucifer put his arms around him too, everyone was hugging in a group hug.

"Yes, welcome back, to the family." That was Lucifer's confirmation.

"Guys, I promise I won't ruin my ties with you again, thanks for accepting me back on." Mammon hugged everyone and smiled, feeling welcomed in his family once again.

MC smiled softly at the brothers getting along again and took them a secret picture while they all were hugging, this moment was just a moment to remember.

[softlilacmoonlight]

Satan x Reader - Starving

(Y/N) pov:

Oh my gosh. I am so hungry! What am I going to do? I've been starving myself dry, and quite frankly... I can barely take it anymore! I need to come up with a solution and fast. Lately, I've been avoiding the brothers, and pretty much anyone who can breathe. While it hurts, I must do it. I can't allow myself to harm them.

Third-person pov:

Little to (Y/N)'s knowledge, everybody was currently gathered in the living room of the House of Lamentation. Some were fretting, others plotting, but they all had the same intention. They all wished to make you escape your room and return to your once-loving self.

"Whatever it is, we must help her with it," states Diavolo, expression scrunched up in worry.

Shaking his head, Belphie (surprisingly awake) pipes up, "How do we do that if she won't even talk to us?"

"We have to lure her out," replies Mammon. "What'dya think she'd want?"

Satan puts a hand up to his chin, his eyes shining with deep thought. "Leave it to me."

With that, after a little arguing, the group disbanded. Everything was now riding on Satan's shoulders.

Satan pov:

Hopefully, this works. If not then I don't know what will.

I leave my room and start to make my way through the house. Taking turn after turn, down a flight of stairs, and a few more twists, I find myself outside of the human's door. I lightly knock, but there's no answer. Determined, I knock again louder. When that also gets no answer, I try the doorknob. To my utter surprise, the door is unlocked and openly accessible.

Turning the knob, I enter the pitch-black room. "(Y/N)? Are you in here?"

"Satan? Please. Leave me alone. I do not wish to have company." comes a tired and ragged voice.

Barely, I can make out the shape of a body laying on the bed. Walking over, I gently grasp (Y/N)'s hand. "(Y/N)? What's wrong? Tell me. Everybody is worried about you. Besides, I have something for you."

"I don't want any of your gifts. Get. Out." she grumbles, anger and frustration tinging her voice.

Refusing, I squeeze her hand. "Absolutely not. I'm not leaving till you tell me."

Before I can react, a pair of blood-red glowing eyes meet my own emerald orbs. "I. Said. Leave."

"(Y/N)! What is going on with you!?" I exclaim in shock as she whips away from me clutching her head.

Her body trembles as she talks to me. "Get... out... text..."

Understanding her meaning, I rush out of the room slamming the door behind me. I run past my brothers in the hall and make my way quickly into my own room. Yanking up my phone, I quickly open my messages up and tap on (Y/N)'s contact.

In Private Chat with (Y/N)

(Y/N): Satan... please don't tell the others about what just happened.

Satan: (Y/N)! How can I not! What is happening to you!?

(Y/N): If you tell them... I'll never be accepted. >_<

Satan: (Y/N), of course, you'll be accepted. We all care about you, but we can't help if you don't confide in us.

(Y/N): I'm not ready to tell everybody yet...

Satan: Then I shall keep your secret... as long as you tell me and let me assist you.

(Y/N): Satan... I... I have no other choice, do I? Alright... I'm a vampire.

Satan: 0.0

(Y/N): Please don't be afraid of me! I don't kill humans, I get their permission before feeding! Please Satan?! Please believe me!?

Satan: ... Alright. I believe you. After all, you've never attacked us.

(Y/N): That would be my worst nightmare, but I can't be around blood right now. I've been starving myself, and when you came in I was far too close to losing control.

Satan: (Y/N)... don't worry about a thing. I'll handle this. Where can I get you blood?

(Y/N): Satan... you're absolutely amazing. There is a vampire blood bank in the human realm where you can get blood. I'll set the specially lined purse I have for this outside of my door. Show them my ID and explain that I need blood. They will send it with you and you can slip it into the purse to hide it. I'll place my ID inside the purse for you.

Satan: Alright. I'll be back in an hour.

(Y/N): You're the best! Thank you, Satan!

Satan has gone offline

(Y/N) has gone offline

An hour later, brought to you by me having a whole other one-shot to type...

After a million years, I eventually make it back to the House of Lamentation, blood purse in hand. Using a series of spells, I make my way up to (Y/N)'s room undetected, and against my better judgment enter the room.

"(Y/N)?" I whisper into the darkness. "I have your blood."

"S-S-S-Satan?" hoarsely croaks a voice before breaking into a ragged cough. "I... I'm too weak to get out of bed. All of my energy has left me."

She lets out some more gut-wrenching coughs. "Shhh... I'm here. (Y/N) I'm here."

Carefully, I make my way over to the bed. My eyes barely make out the outline of (Y/N)'s body and face. Cupping the back of her head, I gently help her drink the blood after removing it from the purse. Almost instantly, her eyes fully shut and she slips into a deep slumber.

Silently, I leave the room with the blood bag returned to the inside of the purse. After escaping from the house once more, I make my way deep into the forest being increasingly careful not to be caught. When I could no longer see the top of the house, I use a little magic to start a fire in the clearing. I take the bag from the purse and watch as the fire burns it to ash, and when I'm certain nothing is left I put out the fire and make my way back to the house.

Once in (Y/N)'s room, I use a little bit more of my magic to light a small floating candle next to me so I can read and watch over her sleeping form. I settle into the seat and open the book. (Y/N) always loves it when I read to her, so opening the book of poems I start to read.

(Y/N) pov:

Waking up, I catch a whisp of a smooth voice gliding through the air. Keeping my eyes shut, I silently listen to the entirety of the poem:

Romance, who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet Hath been—a most familiar bird— Taught me my alphabet to say— To lisp my very earliest word While in the wild wood I did lie, A child—with a most knowing eye. Of late, eternal Condor years So shake the very Heaven on high With tumult as they thunder by, I have no time for idle cares Through gazing on the unquiet sky. And when an hour with calmer wings Its down upon my spirit flings— That little time with lyre and rhyme To while away—forbidden things! My heart would feel to be a crime Unless it trembled with the strings. (-Edgar Allan Poe)

I recognize the poem as that of Edgar Allan Poe, specifically a piece named Romance. How I always did love it.

Opening my eyes, I turn to the gentle light of the candle. "That was amazing. Thank you, Satan."

"You're welcome (Y/N). How are you feeling?" he whispers while threading his fingers through my hair.

I lean into his warm and alive touch. "I feel much better. How about we join the others for dinner?"

"Alright, if you feel up to it," answers Satan with kindness and patience laced through his voice.

"Oh, and Satan?" Turning around, Satan comes back to the bedside. In the blink of an eye, I pull him down and kiss him right on the lips.

I can feel his body stiffen in shock, but as I pull away from the kiss he yanks me back. This time he roughly places kisses on my lips and pushes me back onto the bed. We kiss until we can no longer hold our breath, or should I say till Satan can no longer hold his breath.

"Well, well, well... Mr. Gentleman has a rough love side." I tease, hands on top of Satan's heaving chest.

His face flushes a deep red. "I... I love you (Y/N)."

"I love you too Satan. Although, I think you better tidy your wrinkled shirt and ruffled hair before we go to dinner, otherwise the others will think we did more than kiss." I tease raising an eyebrow in a mocking tone.

In a state of panic, Satan flings himself off of me and flusteredly puts himself back together. However, little did it matter.

Asmo quickly noticed that Satan's coat was missing when we sat down at dinner. Poor Satan turned scarlet as he explained that he had to turn up the temperature in my room since I was feeling sick and that he took off his coat since he got too hot. Asmo however didn't believe a word of it.

"Well... someone was definitely hot," I state with a smirk, causing Asmo to dramatically gasp. "But I think I have a right to think that about my new boyfriend."

"BOYFRIEND!" exclaims six other demons, and with that Satan picks me up and runs for it. This year just got even more interesting.

[astralaffairs]

on fear under stark, dying lighting || thomas jefferson, fotp-verse

title: on fear under stark, dying lighting

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader, an fotp-verse oneshot

words: 5k

request: how would thom react if lets say maybe his neo-nazi supporters get too passionate abt their anger towards mc’s articles and um try to shoot/mug/harm her to stop her from writing anything else against thom?

notes: ok so first off lemme preface this w the fact that thom is a self respecting black man who has another self respecting black man as his running mate so tbr the neo-nazi white supremacists r not exactly his demographic of supporters. that said i fucking loved this prompt; set in the universe of freedom of the press, but not canon w/ the storyline

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8@assbuttstyles777 @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa@hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies@fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach@snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed@rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk@daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich@cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudynblw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow  @siriusorionblackiii @fanfic-addict-98 @checkurwindow @nyxie75 @i-know-i-can @yxseminx @yavin4andor @sugacita @sstrawberry-fanta @youtxbemusic @queenwilty — hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Y/N scrunched up her nose as her eyes fluttered open, the gritty, incessant sound of the machine grating on her nerves — while she was no stranger to the sound of her own heartbeat, she'd never heard it like that. When she finally tried to look around the room, she winced. The sterile-white LED lights lining the ceiling made her eyes burn; as she adjusted to it, slowly waking up, she began to notice the steady click of an IV drip not far from where her head rested.

She didn't move at first, blinking hard as the ceiling was her entire range of vision, but when she tried to sit up, a sharp pain shot through her shoulder, and she cried out, her hand flying up to the spot.

"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart, lay down, okay? Relax, please. You're gonna hurt yourself."

The beep of the heart rate monitor accelerated in a fleeting moment, and steady, familiar hands came to rest gently on her good shoulder and her upper back, easing her into the crinkly mattress beneath her. She turned with wide eyes to find the last person she expected at her bedside as he propped her head up onto a pillow.

"Thomas?" she asked breathlessly. "Shit, I... What are you doing here? Did you bring me here? I don't..." Her brow furrowed as she eyed his worried expression, the small, scared frown he wore. As she tried to shift in her bed, turn to look at him, she gasped at the throbbing in her upper arm — with that, it didn't take long for her to recall exactly what she was doing there, though the details were hazy. She didn't know what to make of her current circumstance, though.

"Here, d'you want me to raise the back of the bed so you don't needa hold yourself up?" Though she'd screwed her eyes shut, her jaw clenched as she tried to bear the pain, as his hand ghosted down to her forearm, as he brushed his thumb across her skin, he could hear her pulse beginning to settle. She nodded, laying onto her back with a grimace.

A moment passed in silence while she tried to collect her thoughts. She let out a soft hum when the reclined top of the bed began to fold upward, letting her shift into a sitting position, she withdrew her right arm from Thomas's grasp, pulling it back to instead lace her fingers into his. "Better?"

"Mhm." When she again opened her eyes, he'd pulled his chair closer. She frowned. "How are you here? You... We're in public, Thomas; you can't..." She trailed off, but when the concern in his gaze didn't subside in the least, she said, "Did I die? Am I... Is this even real? I don't understand."

Despite everything, at her words, a teasing grin split his grim expression, and he squeezed her hand lightly. "Well, first of all, 'm flattered that you think wakin' up here next to me might actually be heaven—" She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help her soft, endeared smile. "—but no, you're alright, just in the hospital. You're gonna be fine."

"I guess that's a relief," she sighed, pursing her lips. She eyed him with concerned hesitance. "But what are you doing here?"

"What d'you mean, 'what am I doing here?'" he asked incredulously, his voice soft. "Three of my supporters just tried to fucking kill you 'cause they were tryin' to defend my image. Did you think I wasn't gonna come see you? Make sure you're okay? I've been worried sick, Y/N."

"I..." She swallowed the lump building in her throat as she remembered everything that happened, how quickly it'd all gone down. With the way they'd cornered her, she was lucky to have escaped with a bullet in her shoulder. She was lucky to have even made it out alive. "I'm really, really glad you're here," she said with a weak smile, "but we aren't exactly holed up in your penthouse, right now. How do you plan to explain that you came to visit me in the hospital?"

"Well, officially, 'm here to offer my deepest apologies on behalf of myself 'n my campaign and to let you know that I entirely denounce what happened," he said, and as his gaze fell, as he couldn't bear to meet her eyes, she could see the remorse in her demeanor. "Everyone's just gonna think it's damage control, and I get why. Some of that was just an excuse for me comin' to see you. But really... I can't tell you how sorry I am that this happened. 'M so, so sorry that people came out 'n tracked you down, tried to murder you in my name. You can't... I can't begin to tell you how much I wish I could go back and do somethin' different to stop this from happenin'. That I didn't spend so much time messin' with you on Twitter. That I woulda—"

"Stop it," Y/N said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. She could see Thomas's eyes welling up, his stare glassy; she could hear his voice beginning to waver. "Stop. You know this wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could've done to prevent it. You're a good person, okay? I know you. Please, please don't blame yourself."

She squeezed his hand, and he shut his eyes tightly. "Fuck, I don't—" He sniffled loudly, reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "Don't know why you're comforting me right now. 'M not supposed to be the one who needs it; I don't wanna make this about me. 'M sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You aren't responsible for this, and I don't blame you for it in the least." At her gentle tone, he let out a ragged huff, still not meeting her eyes. She frowned. "Hey, look at me. You didn't do anything to incite this."

"You're too forgivin'," he finally said, lifting his head to meet her gaze. "I don't deserve it."

She scoffed at the words, breaking his gaze to shake her head in exasperation. "Thomas, if you don't deserve to be forgiven, that's because there's nothing to forgive. Please, this isn't your burden."

There was a skip, silence aside from the IV drip and the staticky beep of the heart rate monitor. "That's enough talkin' about me," he finally said. Y/N sighed. His deflecting was overt, but he didn't seem to care. "How are you? I don't just mean your shoulder, either. No one would judge you for bein' rattled after everything that happened."

She shrugged, and he could see the pain in her eyes. "I'm not great, if I'm honest. I was just so scared." She drew in a shaky breath. He took her hand in both of his, pulling his chair closer to her side. "How'd you even find out about this, anyway? Lafayette?"

"Now, why d'you think Lafayette woulda heard about you bein' in the hospital before I did?" He could only feign offense, but the eyebrow he raised was playful. She couldn't stifle her amused smile. "That hurts, sweetheart, really. He matters that much more to you than I do?"

"Shut up; you know that none of my other friends would tell you about this," she groaned, but any exhaustion in her voice was contrived. "Alex and his sister-in-law are my emergency contacts. Which one of them would've ever called you?"

"Alright, alright." Thomas huffed, trying to purse his lips to hide his grin. "James called me. Dolley saw it on the news."

"Oh my god, it's on the news?" Her eyes widened, and Thomas was struck with a pang of guilt as he heard her pulse begin to spike — there wasn't much she could hide when hooked up to a heart rate monitor. "Shit, I– I need to call Mira and Orlando; they've gotta be terrified. And Angelica, holy shit, I'm sure she's heard. What time is it? How long has it been since the story broke?"

"Hey, calm down, okay? They're outside. They know you're gonna be alright," he murmured, rubbing the back of her hand comfortingly, and he sighed as he heard her heartbeat slow. "Everyone's out there. James 'n Dolley came, Lafayette came... Hamilton brought his whole family. I met Angelica, just now."

Her eyebrows shot up, but a laugh was etched into her surprised smile. "Oh, no, tell me you're lying. I can't imagine that went well."

He hummed in agreement, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched her enthusiasm begin to grow. "Nah, not so much. Think she woulda throttled me out in the lobby if Mira hadn't stopped her."

Y/N groaned. "Of course Mira's out there defending you. Some priorities."

"Oh, would you rather your friends killed me with their bare hands?" He raised an expectant eyebrow, and when Y/N only shrugged, he scowled.

"Listen, all I'm saying is that if someone shot you in my name and James tried to throttle me for it, I'd understand."

Thomas gave a reluctant hum. "Forgot how much you liked havin' people's hands around your throat. Guess you'd probably enjoy it, huh?"

Her eyes widened as her breath caught, blood rushing to her cheeks. She could feel her skin burning, and somewhere in the background, she was vaguely aware of the rush of her heart rate monitor. "Thomas. Shut up, I swear to god."

He laughed when she tried to shove his hands away, yank her right arm out of his grasp, but when he just squeezed her forearm teasingly, she turned her head. She couldn't meet his gaze with the scowl she wore. "Aw, what's the problem? You only into that when I'm the one doin' it?"

"Thomas." She whipped her head back around to him with a wearing look, appearingly taken aback, but her teeth were sinking hard into her bottom lip. When she saw the mocking pout he wore, a chill ran down her back; her stomach turned.

"Y'know, I'm kinda havin' fun with bein' able to hear your heart rate." When he winked, the corners of his lips turning up into a knowing smile, the heat in the back of her neck flared.

"You're exhausting," she grumbled. He shrugged.

"Mmh, I can see that." When she turned to him with an eyebrow raised, he grinned. "Nothin' to be ashamed of, sweetheart. I know I—"

He was cut off by the click of the door being thrown open, and a nurse rushed into the room, closely followed by the small army of people there to see Y/N. They both pulled abruptly back from one another. Y/N's heart was pounding.

"Y/N! Are you okay? Did something happen?" Eliza asked pushing through to see you with wide, worried eyes. Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but when she just gaped at everyone for a moment, Alex immediately cut in.

"Jefferson, I swear to god, if you laid a finger on her, I'll end you. I knew it was a bad idea to let him in here," Alex scowled, glaring at Thomas as he strode toward them, but Y/N's brows shot up.

"Hey, woah, stop it," she said holding up her right hand, a silent request for him to come to a halt. Reluctantly, he did, still eyeing Thomas skeptically. "Nothing happened. I'm okay. Why'd you all come in here like this?"

"Your heart rate was rising, dear. We thought you could've been having a seizure, or a heart attack, or... or something," Dolley said, and Alex glared when she pushed her way in front of him. "How are you? I saw the video online, and oh, Y/N, it was awful. I couldn't bear to see such a thing happening to you."

"Dolley, hey." Y/N wore a soft smile as Dolley came to her bedside, resting a hand on her calf. "I'm okay. Not the best I've ever felt, but it isn't anything I won't be able to sleep off. That, and some painkillers, of course."

Dolley gave her a wry smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can do. I have a neglected bottle of rosé sitting in our pantry and two pints of ice cream in the freezer, so go ahead and pick your poison."

Y/N laughed. "I'll have to see what flavors of ice cream you've got stashed away, but either option is dangerously tempting."

Dolley was about to reply, but when Angelica emerged to her left, she jumped back, startled. "Anyway, why was your heart rate so high? You don't look like you're going into a coma, so what'd he do?" Angelica nodded toward Thomas, the look in her eyes all business and her brow furrowed. Thomas raised an affronted brow.

"Oh, please, Thomas wouldn't hurt a fly." As everyone began to disperse themselves around her bedside, the group who'd come to see her made Y/N's heart warm. She resisted rolling her eyes at the doting smile Mira gave Thomas alongside her words, which he returned gratefully. (Suck up.) However, Mira also turned to Y/N with a hesitant look. "Right, mija?"

Y/N pursed her lips, glancing between Mira and Thomas dubiously, but Thomas looked smug. "Yeah, yeah, he's in the clear," she agreed reluctantly. "My heart rate spiked because I stupidly tried to use both my arms to shift where I was sitting. It didn't feel so great for, y'know, my bullet wound." When she gave a weak smile, there were sighs of relief scattered throughout the group (Thomas's was the most adamant; he hadn't expected her to bail him out quite that easily).

"Well, we are glad to see zat you are alright." Lafayette offered her a soft smile, and when she found him standing directly beside Thomas, she reached out to squeeze the hand he had resting on the rail of her bed. A flicker of dejection passed through Thomas's expression, gone almost the moment it came.

"I'm glad to see all of you here. It was really sweet of you to come," Y/N said, looking around the group. Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of James standing just behind Dolley, a small smile resting on his lips. "Aw, James, even you showed up?"

"Of course, Y/N. We on Thomas's campaign have been incredibly concerned."

She rolled her eyes at his formal tone. "Yeah, yeah, talk all you want about your political agenda, but we both know Dolley dragged you along to visit."

"I truly can't help but take offense at that," James said, his brow furrowed, and he shook his head. Regardless, he wore an amused smile. "As though I'm unable to cross partisan lines for an injured acquaintance?"

"Aw, aren't we friends by now?" Y/N asked, plastering on a pout, and James laughed.

"I suppose so." He squeezed Dolley's shoulder, an eyebrow raised, and she shuffled aside, inadvertently crowding into Angelica's space. When James took a step forward, Y/N's eyebrows shot up at the bouquet of flowers he held, the envelope attached to them. "These are for you, on behalf of our entire campaign."

She had to shift in her seat to turn and take them from him in her right hand, but as she did so, she grimaced at the dull pain in her shoulder when she moved it. Thomas's hand shot out to support her before he realized where he was, and he stopped himself short, pulling his hands back into his lap with a wince.

"Thanks so much, James, these are beautiful," Y/N said, inhaling deeply as she held the flowers up to her nose. "Who picked them out?"

"I did." The sound of Thomas's voice among the group surprised her. Her eyebrows were raised when she turned to him, and she struggled to stop her small smile from widening at his words.

"Well then, thank you, Secretary Jefferson. I appreciate the gesture."

"It's the least I could do, Ms. L/N." She pressed her lips together; it was all she could do not to laugh at the formality in his tone. He gave her a sympathetic smile, but as she met his gaze, it was doting. "I'm terribly sorry that this happened. Please, don't hesitate to reach out if there's anything further we can do to support you."

She cocked a brow. "Care to pay my medical bills?"

"Gladly."

"Wait, seriously?" Her eyes widened. "I was joking, but I'm holding you to that."

"As you should," Thomas said reasonably, giving a shrug. "I understand how difficult this has gotta be for you, and for your family, too. We'd like to support you in any way we can."

While his gentle tone made her smile, holding his stare, but Alex scoffed loudly.

"Oh my god, don't fall for that, Y/N," he interjected. Y/N raised a brow. "He's just trying to avoid a lawsuit. Or convince you not to start bitching online about how he almost killed you."

"He didn't almost kill me," she huffed. She glanced back hesitantly at Thomas, and he was watching her with guilt heavy in his expression. "One of his supporters did. It's not the same thing."

"Yeah, they tried to kill you in his name. Why are you giving him a pass?"

"If you shot him in my name, would it be my fault?" She pinned Alex with an expectant stare, and he huffed. "You know it wouldn't, and this is no different. If you're gonna spend the next few minutes attacking him, go wait in the hall until he and James leave. My head already hurts, so I refuse to listen to you picking a fight."

Alex folded his arms. "Why aren't you kicking him out?"

"Because you're the one getting worked up, right now," Y/N said matter-of-factly, but Thomas sighed.

"I understand that you all want me gone. I won't impose," he said, and when he began to push his chair out, Y/N and Mira wore identical, dismayed expressions.

"No, no, you aren't imposing!" Mira insisted. "Please, stay."

"'S alright, Mira. I know when I'm not wanted. I should be goin'," he said, giving her a reassuring smile, but his nervous gaze flickered back to Y/N. "Unless, of course, you've got any more grievances you wanna air? I'd be happy to listen, but I don't wanna overstay my welcome."

"Actually," Y/N started, pursing her lips. Thomas's tense demeanor softened as she went on, "I have a few more things I'd like to say before you go. You aren't off the hook just yet." Though her expression was hard, Thomas was struggling not to grin at her not sending him away. Y/N looked back around to her friends and family. "If you'd all give me another minute? I need to get some things off my chest."

While everyone obliged her easily, turning to give her space as they started toward the exit, Dolley and Lafayette shared a knowing look. Y/N's nurse smiled. "I'm glad to see you awake and feeling better. I'll be on call if you need me."

"Thanks so much," Y/N said quietly, and Lafayette caught her eye with a grin.

"We will be back in a few minutes, chérie. Do not do anything rash."

Y/N's eyebrows shot up when he shot Thomas a wink before following everyone else out, and they sat another moment in silence until the door finally fell shut. Thomas breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, now that everyone's outta here, you gonna rip me a new one?" he asked playfully, and Y/N rolled her eyes, finally letting herself grin as she turned to him, leaning fully back against her bed.

"Don't tempt me," she warned, and he laughed lightly. "But I just wanted another minute with you. If you want to go or have somewhere to be, I'll understand."

"I'm gonna stay as long as you're lookin' to let me," he replied, and when he rested his hand on the bed's rail, she took it in hers.

"I don't know how long I can believably pretend to be yelling at you, but I don't want you to leave just yet. I'm really glad you're here." She swallowed hard, glancing down at where their hands were linked. "I've just... been so distant recently. Is it silly to say I was afraid I was going to die without seeing you first?"

He let out a light, breathy laugh; the look in his eyes was akin to relief. "Jesus, I hope not, 'cause I've been up all night worryin' about the same thing."

Her eyebrows shot up, and he gave her a sheepish smile. "You've been up all night?"

"How was I supposed to sleep?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. He shook his head in disbelief. "You have no idea how scared I was, sweetheart."

"I can imagine," she said with a sigh. "Thank you for coming. I'm sure it wasn't easy to get in here with my friends all ready to bite your head off."

"Mmh, not exactly," he agreed, tone dry, and when she caught sight of his irked expression, she raised an eyebrow. "I didn't get too warm of a welcome."

"How'd you convince them to let you stay here until I woke up, anyway?" she asked, and a lopsided grin split his expression. He shrugged. "Don't tell me you just waltzed in here, and they let you into my room. I know them better than that."

"Lafayette vouched for me."

"Seriously?" Y/N furrowed her brow. "And said what?"

"That it'd be best for you to be able to get everything off your chest before everyone came in to see you." He shrugged, and though Y/N rolled her eyes, his smile was smug. "Guess I'm lucky you're takin' pity on me, huh?"

"Really, Jefferson. I should consider being a little harsher next time. Really making you pay for being thoughtful enough to show up here and comfort me when I'm terribly injured." She bit her lip, eyeing him tentatively. "Hey, can anybody see us right now? Are there any windows or security cameras I'm missing?"

He shook his head, brow furrowed. "Uh-uh. Relax. It's just you and me, alright?"

"Then will you come sit with me?"

His eyebrows shot up when she looked at him hopefully, shifting over on her bed, but it wasn't until a moment later that he answered, his words hesitant. "I dunno, sweetheart. I know you're in a lotta pain, and I don't wanna accidentally hurt you. You should just rest."

"Please?" The look in her eyes was hopeful, and she ran her thumb across his knuckles. "I just... wanna be held. I know you've gotta go soon, but..."

She couldn't finish her sentence, instead just trailing off, watching him with pleading eyes, and he sighed. "God, I hate not bein' able to say no to you. Move over."

Y/N grinned when he stood, delicately propping himself up onto the edge of her bed and swinging his legs up beside hers. His left arm brushed against her right shoulder, and she winced, trying to prop herself up onto the side of his torso. His hands found her waist. "This okay?" he asked softly, shifting her to lay against his chest, and her smile went soft.

"Yeah. This is good." She hummed contentedly when he absentmindedly began tracing patterns into her hip through her hospital gown. "Thanks for being here. Not many people would be willing to fight through my friends just to see me for a few minutes."

"Well, I did have some help," he murmured, his lips just above her ear. "I mean, since you gave Mira the power of attorney and all, she got the final say on who was allowed to come in and see you. You know she's got a soft spot for me."

Y/N giggled. "I guess your whole 'golden boy' act does come in handy once in a while."

When Thomas huffed, she could feel his warm breath tickle the side of her neck. She shivered. "Y'know what, I'm gonna let that one go, but only 'cause you're injured."

"Or because you know I'm right," she teased, craning her neck back to look at him with a wide smile, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

"Mhm, 'cause I'm secretly a terrible person, huh?"

"Good thing we agree." She pushed herself up to lightly kiss the underside of his jaw. "I just wish you could stay longer. I know you probably have a million things to get done, but I hate that you have to use some bullshit excuse just to come see me."

"So do I," he sighed.

"I just wish we could do... whatever this is in the light of day."

"What if we could?"

"Thomas," Y/N groaned lightly. "It's a nice thought, but you know it isn't possible. You aren't going to drop out of the race for president, and I'm not going to stop covering the campaign. I like my job too much. I don't want to give that up."

"And I'd never ask you to," he assured her, "'S just a nice thought."

"Yeah," she agreed reluctantly, her gaze downcast. A beat passed in silence; they were both too caught up in their own heads to pay attention to the steady click of the IV drip within a foot of them, the buzz of the dying LED lights overhead. Finally, Y/N said, "Is there any chance you can come up with some excuse to come back and visit me tomorrow? I'll have my phone on me, so I can text you when the coast is clear."

"I'd love that," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. He hadn't realized it, but she'd begun to doze off, her eyes fluttering shut as she laid her head against the warmth of his body, the steady feeling of his heartbeat in his chest lulling her to sleep.

"Thank you," she murmured, covering his hand with hers. "I love..." She trailed off when she could feel him inhale sharply, his chest rising against her back, and despite her fatigue, she knew enough to hold her tongue. "Love that you could make it here. Thanks again."

"'S been my pleasure."

She didn't respond, content to just rest in his arms, and his smile was soft as he looked down at her. Several minutes ticked by, and the pair was at peace in the sterile environment, relaxed despite the bullet wound in her shoulder, the danger she'd been in hours before, despite the tension that always hung heavy in their dynamic, unavoidable with the risk they were taking being together.

"Thanks for keeping me around, sweetheart," he whispered, and his words were met only with the heavy sound of her breathing, leveling out as she drifted further and further from consciousness. He swallowed hard. "I love you."

She was too far gone to hear him.

A few more minutes later, the room's door clicked open, and Thomas's eyes widened, realizing the position he was about to be found in. His eyes widened.

"Y/N, is it alright if everyone else—?" Lafayette emerged from the doorway alone, cutting himself with a soft smile when he caught sight of Y/N laid against Thomas's body, perfectly at peace in his embrace. "Ah, Thomas. I am glad to see zat she is being well taken care of," he said softly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Thomas couldn't take it too personally. "Is she... asleep?"

He nodded. "Has been for a few minutes. Think she's been needin' some real rest," he replied, warm gaze drifting down to Y/N's calm, absent face. "Y'know, the kind that doesn't come from faintin' in pain and some anesthetics."

Lafayette chuckled lightly, folding his arms. "I think zat it is for ze best," he said. "But I was sent in 'ere to see whether or not Y/N was done, ah... lecturing you for ze 'arms done. I am not sure I 'ave any way to tell everyone zat she is still busy in 'ere."

"Sounds like it's time for me to head out, then, huh?" Lafayette nodded, and Thomas looked down with a reluctant smile. "Alright, gimme a minute. Send everyone in when I get out of here, yeah?"

"Of course." Lafayette departed without another word, appearing to be rather pleased with the scene before him. Thomas sighed, trying to shift Y/N off of himself without rattling her, and when he gently laid her shoulders back down onto the mattress, her head resting to one side on the pillow, he leaned down to kiss her forehead softly.

"I'll be back for you tomorrow, okay?" he whispered, disregarding entirely the fact that she didn't hear a word of it. He finally lifted himself off of the side of the bed. "Goodnight, Y/N."

His footsteps stalled another moment as he stood beside her; his tender gaze swept down the entirety of her stature, but it was clouded with remorse when he once again glanced to the bloodied bandage wrapped around her shoulder. He swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat.

He turned off the lights on his way out.

[yunhoez]

Swell

♄ pairings: suna x reader (in their 20s)

♄ genre: romance, angst, bestfriends to lovers (if u keep one eye open)

♄ warnings: cussing, vulnerability talk, suggestive scenes ??, nothing else really

♄ wc: 2.2k

♄ song: only in my dreams - the marias

Chapter 1

3 Years Ago ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The light scent of honey surrounds you, bubbles pillowing every movement you make, as the warm water sways slightly. Rei sits across from you with her arms folded on the edge of the tub, laying her head on them as she sighs deeply. The relaxing atmosphere and her presence always set your mind at ease, especially with the soft music coming from her record player. Rei lifts her head, stretching her arm to reach the bottle of soju outside of the tub.

“What are you afraid of?” she asks, pouring herself a shot before downing it and raising a brow at you. You hum at the question. It wasn’t something she’s never asked before, rather it was something she always asked when she could tell your mind was elsewhere. When your eyes wandered down to your hands, as you fidgeted with your rings.

“Mice?” you tilt your head and smirk.

“Something other than that!” she laughs and splashes you lightly before handing you your glass filled with the strawberry flavored liquor.

“Vulnerability, I guess.” you answer, sinking back into the bath after placing your empty cup on the side of the tub.

“Really? What about it scares you?”

“How easy it is for people to take advantage of it and toss you to the side after seeing it.”

“Yeah, I get that, but we’ll never know people’s true intentions… so why deny your right to feel everything and express it regardless of the outcome?”

“It’s uncomfortable though, showing people every part of yourself and not knowing where it’ll lead to.”

“Sometimes you have to be uncomfortable in order to move forward and grow.” she shrugs, leaning her elbow on the tub and propping her head on her palm.

“I’d rather be comfortable, it’s a lot safer that way.”

“You sure about that?”

“For right now, yeah.” she nods at your response, as you sigh in content after she accepted your stubbornness. Her lips perk up into a smug smile and she shoots you a teasing glare.

“So, Rintaro, is he your idea of comfort?”

You roll your eyes, sinking deeper into the tub, your knees covering your face as they pop out from the warm water. She continues to stare at you with a teasing smile, waiting eagerly for your response.

“Did you really have to bring him up?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to figure out what comfortable means to you.”

You send her a blank stare, not believing her statement for a moment. Rei met Suna around the same time you did, the both of them hit it off and quickly became best friends. He’d always try to set her up with his teammates or the girls he rejected back in highschool, but she was much more interested in bullying him at the corner store with you, Ava, and Atsumu.

“Fine, he keeps asking about you.” she admits, rolling her eyes with a slight giggle leaving her mouth.

“I knew it.”

She moves closer to you in the tub, taking your hands in hers and pulling you up from the bubbles that collected around you. You place your head on your knees, as she mimics your position.

“C’mon, bubs. What’s going on?”

“He’s not.” you mumble, she swirls the water beneath her with her hands, waiting for you to continue.

“He’s not comfortable. He’s the complete opposite of what I’m used to and it scares me.”

“What are you used to that makes you feel comfortable?”

“Uncertainty, callousness…mended with absolute certainty of security.”

Rei lets out a loud sigh, pouring both herself and you another drink. It’s not that I want these traits in a relationship, it’s just easier to accept when I’ve gone through them already. You thought to yourself, as she placed your glass on your side.

“Maybe you do need therapy.”

You scoff, splashing her and crossing your arms. She laughs and shakes her head at your pouty face before smiling at you.

“You need to let go of the idea that you deserve hostility instead of love.”

You cup your hands in front of you, picking up the bubbles and blowing them towards her in an effort to ignore what she’s saying even if you knew she was right.

“You’re not alone though.” she smiles, picking her glass up. “I’m still working on it too. So, let’s both try to accept love and vulnerability as strengths and not weaknesses, okay?” She boops your nose with her soapy hand before bringing the other one with her glass towards you. You grab your own glass and raise them together, toasting to the new goal she set for both of you.

Present ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two glasses clink in front of you, bringing you out of your trance. The sound of people conversing amongst themselves becomes louder, as Suna and Atsumu down a shot of Fireball. Ava nudges you lightly with her elbow with a concerned look on her face. You smile, reassuring her you’re okay before your gaze meets Suna’s. He leans close to your ear, his warm breath laced with the strong scent of whiskey sends shivers down your spine.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.” You mumble.

“Meet me at the back door, yeah?” He shoots you a smile before dashing to the refreshments bar. You let Ava know you’re going for some fresh air, walking slowly to the exit. Your stomach fills with the familiar sense of butterflies, the kind you get when you’re about to drop from the highest point of the rollercoaster. A scary, yet thrilling feeling that you could live without.

Suna comes back with his pockets full, you send him an inquisitive look and he winks in response. He opens the door, waiting for you to step into the chilly air before shutting it and walking in front of you. You both walk up the little hill outside the studio until he finds a spot. He sits down, looking back at you and patting the spot next to him.

“C’mon! Since when are you shy?”

“Shy? No, I just like my personal space.” you scoff, taking your seat next to him. He rolls his eyes, as he hands you a small glass bottle shaped like an apple.

“Got this for you.”

You grab the delicate bottle, running your fingers along the etching of it and smiling to yourself. He blushes slightly at how pleased you look, just like you did when he’d hand you that same brand of apple juice before he went off to practice.

“So, you just carry apple juice with you?”

“Yeah, got a problem with that?”

You deadpan him, unamused at his attempt at a joke. He scoffs, opening his own drink.

“Got it from the bar, stupid.” he takes a sip of his seltzer water and sighs in delight, noticing your lingering gaze. You stifle a laugh before turning away from him.

“What’s so funny?” he questions, staring at you. You shrug, opening your juice and taking a sip of it.

“Just interesting watching someone enjoy TV static.”

“At least I don’t have the tastebuds of a fucking toddler.” he retorts, smirking at your offended expression.

You take another sip of your juice, placing it next to you before flipping him off. He laughs, grabbing your hand that was once telling him to fuck off. You stare at his hand laying on top of yours, the warmth of his calloused hands reminded you how much you missed his touch. He quickly releases your hand after staring at them for a second too long, your hand falling down to your lap slowly. He rubs the back of his head, as the two of you refuse to make eye contact.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You bring your knees up to your chest, looking out at the city lights as Suna propped himself on his arms to peer up at the stars.

“I’ve always enjoyed this.”

“Hm?” you hum, looking over to him.

“Sitting her in silence, it’s oddly comfortable.”

“Yeah, I guess there’s not many people that find comfort in silence.”

Suna shakes his head, a smile plastered on his face. When was the last time you saw him smile this much? He certainly didn’t smile this much before you parted ways, not even when you two went to school together. The little crinkles next to his honey colored eyes made your heart swell, his usual deadpan look was so full of light that it made your heart flutter in the most uncomfortable way.

“I was talking about being in silence with you, dumbass” he interrupts your thoughts, looking over to you and locking eyes. You cough, looking out towards the city once again.

“It’s cold, huh? I don’t remember it getting this cold here.” you stutter, rubbing your hands on your legs to warm them up. He smirks at your nervousness and shrugs off his jacket, placing it over your shoulders.

“I wasn’t implying I wanted your jacket.”

“I know, feel free to take it off.”

You roll your eyes, adjusting his jacket on yourself. The spicy sweet scent of his cologne lingered on the fabric, making you miss all those times he’d leave his clothes at your place ‘in case you missed him’ he’d say.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Honestly, my nerves are enough to keep me warm right now.” he admits, staring off at the skyline. You smile at his honesty, whenever you were around Suna you knew you’d always get a straight answer. And although that made you feel at ease, it also scared you.

“Hey, why didn’t you try-”

“I’ve missed you.” he cuts you off, his gaze still fixed on the city. You cuddle further into his jacket, inhaling the comforting scent. “And being here with you right now feels like nothings changed.” Well shit.

“I know… it’s annoying.” you mutter. He turns to you, frustration evident on your face as you huff and stretch out your legs. “Nothing ever changes here and it’s irritating.”

“Why is that?” he smirks, enjoying your little fit of anger that he couldn’t get enough of.

���Everything in this world is subject to change. Nothing ever stays the same for long, and if it does it’s just waiting to be destroyed.” he stares at you intently, as you continue to rant and stare out at the city, as if preaching to a group of people. “Everyone loves nostalgia, but never stops to think about how change is inevitable. Being comfortable without changes sets you up for failure. A sense of false hope that’ll kill you in the end.” you take a deep breath, realizing you went off on a tangent and look over to Suna, who’s gazing lovingly at you.

“What’s with the dumb smile on your face?”

“I just like hearing you talk, it feels like old times.”

“Did you even listen to a word I said?” you scoff, rising from the ground and walking a few feet in front of you to pace around. “Jeez, it’s like talking to a wall. Nothing’s the same about us, so stop acting-” you pause at the realization of what you were about to say. You avert your gaze to the city, feeling the chill in the air while the heat burns through your cheeks. Suna lets out a small laugh and walks over to where you are, standing dangerously close to you.

“You’re so stupid sometimes, ya know?” he jokes, nudging you softly. “I know nothing’s the same between us. It never will be, but I’d like to try to start something new.” he sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You can blame it on nostalgia or comfort, sure. But what is it about being comfortable that scares you?” you freeze at his question, realizing how much you’ve changed since that conversation with Rei. Suna peers down at you, giggling before pulling the hood of his jacket over your head.

“Let’s head back in before Rei thinks something’s up.” he tells you, walking away from you slowly. You follow, walking in front of him before stopping right at the door and handing him his jacket. He sends you a confused look, as he takes it back.

“For the record, I never said I was scared of it. It’s just annoying.”

He gazes down at you and nods, putting his jacket on. A small smile tugs at your lips as he fumbles around his pockets, pulling out a lollipop. He raises a brow at you and you turn around to open the door. He pushes it closed with his arm, caging you between him and the heavy door. You turn to face him, his warm breath fanning over your face, the faint scent of cinnamon still lingering. He brings his arm back, unwrapping the candy and pocketing the trash.

“What flavor?”

“See for yourself.” you tease.

He smirks, bringing it to his mouth slowly. You watch him, not sure why you haven’t moved an inch. He was no longer caging you, but his captivating movements that were so foreign to you kept you from walking away. He brings his hand to cup your cheek softly, his thumb running over your lip and parting them slowly. You obey him, the heat in your stomach building, telling you not to get too close... again. The hard candy slips past your lips, the sweet taste of cherry tackles your taste buds as he pops it out of your mouth, gazing at you with an inquisitive look.

“Cherry.” you tell him, turning away and opening the door.

“Thanks, pretty.” he hums, popping the lollipop into his mouth as he watches you leave his side.

a/n: ahh hi hi, I hope you enjoyed chp 2! more suna content in this one hehe, I have a lot more in store for this so pls let me know what y'all think! kisses xx