#Protected Us And Made Sure None Of Us Were Hurt

[forever-rogue]

Your fics kill me and bring me back to life queen! Requesting Joel and fem!reader almost dying from a clicker attack; Joel and her end up getting blood stained, give each other a bath in the same tub, and talk about what’s to come.

AN | This concept is both so sad but so soft ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 1.9k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Both you and Joel were covered in blood, guts, and bits of brain. 

You’d been doing your best not to cry, trying to remain somewhat composed but it was hard. The tears were welling up in your eyes but none of them had managed to roll down your cheeks just yet. You were fighting them back; you knew that once the tears started it would open the floodgates and all the pent up emotions would come right out. 

Joel, meanwhile, looked almost…fine. Not fine, but not like you, ready to fall apart at any moment. You supposed that he was more used to it, the violence and gore, while you were still fairly…unfamiliar. Admittedly, you had very little ‘real’ world experience compared to Joel. You knew that one day, you’d probably come across the infected, but you hadn’t expected that it would come close to costing you your life. 

Your partner had been all but silent as he sprang into action to help save you while you panicked, screamed, and cried, probably attracting almost everything around you. Joel had remained the image of cool and collected as he took them all down to make sure you were safe. 

Once you were safe and accounted for, he’d hauled you to your feet and started making his way back home, keeping you close behind. Neither of you spoke a word, the silence loud enough to speak volumes. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got back to the home you shared with Joel, you felt like you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. You closed the door behind the two of you, before leaving against it and sliding to the floor, in a small heap of sobs. You weren’t able to contain the emotions any longer and they all spilled out at once. You didn’t even care that you were dirty and smelly, you just couldn’t be bothered to keep going at that moment. 

Joel had already started making his way upstairs but stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he heard your first sob. He turned back around and quickly made his way over to you, dropping to his knees right to see what was going on.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, reaching for your face and gently taking it in his hands. He hated to see you crying, especially right now, when you had just had a near death experience. Joel brushed your tears away, trying to hide his frown when he noticed all the grime and blood still sticking to your skin. He wished you hadn’t had to experience such a thing; he’d tried to protect but failed. He could have, should have, done more, “baby, you’re alright. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

You managed a small nod, your lip trembling as a few more tears ran down your cheeks. Joel gently shushed you before pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you. With the little energy and strength you had remaining, you hugged him back, burying your face into his chest. He held you for a while, letting you get out your tears, and occasionally offering you a few gentle words of reassurance. When you felt like you were all dried up and your throat was raw, you pulled back and looked at him with puffy, red eyes and a forlorn expression on your face. 

“You’re going to be okay,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I swear it.”

“Joel,” you managed to choke out his name, “I…today...it was horrible.”

“I know,” he brushed his knuckles along your cheek, his heart hurting for what you had just been through. He’d gone through it enough times himself and had gotten to the point where he had become almost numb to it all. It was a horrible thing really, to become so desensitized to actions that had once been considered carnage. He was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. There wasn’t much to say and he couldn’t just turn back time, “it becomes easier over time, but I don’t want it to become easier for you. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”

“But,” you looked at him with wide eyes as you grabbed his hands and held them tightly in yours. You’d been so caught up in your own woes that you hadn’t even considered how Joel could have been feeling, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he offered you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, that didn’t quite feel genuine, “I’m alright.”

“Are you?” your question came softly, whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He paused for a moment before hanging his head and giving it a gentle shake. You breathed in softly and exhaled through your nose before wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug, squeezing him with everything you had, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he murmured softly as he buried himself in you, breathing in your soft scent and allowing it to wash over him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After a short while, you slowly untangled yourselves before making your way upstairs to the bathroom. You were almost desperate to get the dirt and grime and whatever else was on your body so you could feel like a human again. 

When you got upstairs and into the bathroom, Joel immediately turned on the shower, getting it just as warm as you liked. He turned to you, slowly and reverently starting to peel off your clothes. You lifted your arms as so he could remove your shirt, a small sound escaping your lips as the cloth stuck to a few of the superficial wounds you’d managed to obtain. It already felt a million times better just to be free of your shirt, which was quickly followed by your bra. 

Joel’s touch was gentle as he undid the button of your jeans before helping you to step out of them and kicking them to the side to get them as far away as possible. Your underwear was next and you left standing there naked. It didn’t matter though; just shedding the layers allowed you to feel a million times better.

You wiped some of the grim from your face before motioning for Joel to step closer to you. He did so, his face becoming more gentle as he watched you. You reached for the hem of his henley, slowly pulling it over his head and tossing it into the pile of your clothes. Your lips pulled into a small frown when you realized that his ribs and shoulder were already starting to bruise. You trailed your fingers softly along his skin, tutting under your breath.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” he insisted, which you knew was only for your benefit, “nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you insisted, reaching for his belt buckle and slowly undoing it before and tugging his jeans down his legs. Joel pulled down his boxers before kicking it all away, “I already feel better. Just having the gross clothes gone.”

He made a small sound in response before pulling the shower curtain back so you could get inside and under the warmth of water. You let out an audible sigh at the feeling of the warm water cascading all over your skin. Joel stepped in after you, shoulders sagging with relief that the day was over and that you were both home safe. 

“C’mere,” he grabbed your shoulders and tenderly traded places with you. He grabbed the shampoo bottle, pouring some into his hand before moving to wash your hair. You tried to ignore the water that was running off your bottles and red swirls that ran down the drain. It was over and you were okay. Joel started to lather the shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp just how he knew you loved. You had to work to keep in the moan that threatened to spill out of your mouth at the feeling. 

He worked in silence for a while as you tried to relax and forget about the horrors of the day. It was when he was about halfway through conditioning your hair, you realized that tears had run down your face. When you stepped under the water to rinse your hair, Joel wiped away your tears, which managed to bring the smallest smile to your face. 

Once your hair was washed, you went to reach for the bar of soap but Joel beat you to it, working quickly to get your body clean and wash away the rest of dirt and grime that had been left on your body.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. The two of you stayed that way for a while, until you felt yourself start to get pruney, “come on, handsome. It’s my turn to get you all clean.”

Joel knew better than to argue with you, and admittedly loved getting his hair washed just as much as you did. You took your time to make sure he was just as clean as you were, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulders and neck. At one point, he took your face in his hands and kissed you until you were breathless. You let him hold you until the water ran cold and both of you were ready to get into pajamas and get into bed. 

Once you got out of the shower and dried off, you stole a shirt and a pair of boxers from Joel and slipped into them before getting into bed for some much needed rest. Joel followed suit and quickly joined you in the bed, letting out a groan at the comfort of being clean and in bed with you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm frame so he was your big spoon.  You put your hand on top of his and offered it a gentle squeeze. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you responded, “thank you for protecting me today. I don’t…I don’t know what I would have done without you today. I might be-”

“Shh,” he cut you off, “don’t say anything else. You don’t have to. We’re here now, safe.”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat in an effort not to cry, “I’m glad for that.”

“Me too,” he promised, “me too.”

It wasn’t long after that until you both managed to fall asleep. 

[sansaorgana]

— BLESSED (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You have no choice but to follow Sauron and your daughter to Mordor because you do not want to abandon her. As time passes, you find yourself being lured by your husband's charm once more as the memories of his cruelty in Eregion begin to fade away.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — And here we are go with the last part! I know I probably write Sauron's relationship with his daughter in a very idealistic way – that in canon he would be most likely way worse. But writing it like that would bring me no joy. 🤷🏻‍♀️ It's a fic for dad!Sauron and I want him to be at least a bit decent while we're at it! 😤

WARNINGS — Reader's father is dead (he was human, so she outlived him), manipulating, gaslighting, toxic and abusive marriage between the Reader and Sauron, Sauron being a very mid dad who manipulates his daughter and teaches her how to be evil like him, child in danger (nothing happens in the end), murder (of the Orcs), Celebrimbor has gone mad-mad, immaculate conception (yes, again!)

WORD COUNT — 4,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BLESSED (III)

Celebrimbor was out of his mind again. Your heart ached for him as you were sitting next to him and caressing his hair softly as if he was a child. He had spent centuries taking care of you and now it was your turn to return the favour. You kept sobbing, feeling angry at yourself that you could not protect him.

Sauron was gone. After finding out where The Rings were, he had left in a hurry, leaving you with a few Orcs that had come to the forge in the meantime. They wanted to plead their allegiance to your husband and the very first task they had been given was to watch over you, your daughter and your uncle. To make sure none of you would escape.

Almárea was not scared of them, which surprised you. In fact, she approached them and kept asking them a million questions as the Orcs were growing a little frustrated with her curiosity. They were, however, answering all her questions patiently. You cracked a smile at that. She was still a child – curious and so full of life.

So full of light, too. You could not let the darkness win within her.

“I shall not allow him to hurt you, uncle. I shall not, I promise,” you kissed Celebrimbor’s forehead and your uncle looked up at you with hazy eyes and a loving smile. “You have endured and suffered so much because of him already. But no more, no more, uncle… Now you must rest.”

“Your daughter…” He mumbled out and you looked down at his face with a sad smile. “Is she not the most precious? She is the exact copy of you, sweet (Y/N). You were a girl like her once, running around this very forge.”

“I remember, uncle,” you sobbed. “I remember it vividly. My father and you working together, my mother still happy and full of life, before she began a lifetime of mourning. I remember…”

You pulled him closer and tried to come up with an idea how to save him. Even if Sauron would not kill him – he had made this promise to Almárea when she had revealed to him Lady Galadriel had been the one to have The Rings now and you wanted to believe he would keep that promise – you still had a feeling your husband would use Celebrimbor somehow or hurt him. 

“Almárea?” You called out for her and she turned around to lay her eyes upon you. You beckoned her over and she nodded at the Orcs before running up to you. “Almárea, do you want uncle Celebrimbor to be safe?”

“Of course, mummy,” your daughter’s eyes widened.

“Can you distract them as I walk him out of here? I will be right back,” you whispered as you pointed at the Orcs with your chin.

“I do not know, mummy… Last time I listened to you, daddy was very angry…” She looked down, nervously.

“Almárea, please. Do you love uncle Celebrimbor?” You asked.

“Yes, of course,” she nodded.

“Then, please…”

“But will you come back to me? Truly?” She lifted up her eyes and looked into yours with a hint of anxiety.

“My darling, always. I shall never abandon you,” you promised, truthfully. Your heart ached at the thought she was not as sure of it as you were.

Eventually, she nodded as she turned around towards the Orcs once more. She ran up to them joyfully and kept asking them questions. When you moved up, dragging Celebrimbor with you, they did not even flinch, which meant that your daughter’s deception was working.

You felt bad for leaving her with them even for a short moment but at this moment it was your uncle who was the most vulnerable and who needed you more. You owed him that, at least.

You walked him out of the forge and hurried to the secret tunnel below the city. The Orcs who had taken over Eregion were feasting now in havoc in the courtyard, which distracted them enough to make it possible for you to lead your uncle safely to the passage.

You walked inside with him and he was following you like a trusting child. In the middle of the passage, you bumped into Herald Elrond. Your heart was in joy to see him and to know that he was safe. He had been some sort of a cousin to you – his father had also been a friend of Celebrimbor and he also was a half-Elf. You had many things in common and you had been close friends in your youth.

“(Y/N), thank the Valar,” he sighed. “Where is your daughter? I was sent here by the High King to make an attempt to rescue you and–” He began.

“I must go back,” you shook your head with your eyes full of tears. “Take uncle Celebrimbor to safety. Heal his mind. Forget about me,” you pleaded and he furrowed his brows.

“What are you talking about?” He asked. “Where is Almárea?”

“Please, Elrond. You must not know,” you insisted before kissing your uncle’s forehead once more and caressing his cheeks to tell him goodbye.

“(Y/N)!” Elrond called out for you when you turned around to go back to Eregion and to your daughter.

“If you love me and respect me,” you began. “If you love Celebrimbor… Just take him away from here. That is all I ask for,” you insisted and hurried back to Eregion. “Do not follow me!” You exclaimed after hearing him trying to rush after you.

He eventually listened to you because he had a huge love for Celebrimbor and he could see the state of him was not the best. You heard the sound of their steps subduing as you went back to Eregion. 

You went back to the forge, feeling a bit more peaceful on the inside, knowing that you managed to save your uncle from Sauron. You nodded at Almárea and she nodded back at you, visibly relieved to see you coming back to her.

Her father came back not long after, too. He was wearing a breastplate and holding Morgoth’s crown in his hand, which was dripping blood – you could feel from afar its purity and light. It was Elven.

“Have you killed her?” You whispered with widened eyes.

“Sadly, no,” Sauron answered with a smirk. “But I got The Nine,” he added and you looked away, feeling defeated. “Speaking of, where is Celebrimbor?”

“Far away,” you mumbled out, expecting him to lash out.

Surprisingly, he did not. He shrugged his arms.

“Whatever. He is no use to me anymore. Almárea, we are leaving,” he extended his free hand and nodded at her.

“You cannot take her away from me!” You turned your head around again to watch what she would do. She hesitated but then she ran up to him and squeezed his hand, which felt like a punch straight into your heart.

“Where are we going, daddy?” She asked.

“To our new home,” Sauron answered and turned around, dragging her behind him but she remained still. “What is it?” He asked with an irritated sigh.

“We are taking mummy with us, right?” She asked.

Long silence occurred. Sauron laid his cold and empty eyes upon you, sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the wall and crying silent tears.

“It is her choice,” he answered, softly, “but I doubt she wants to go with us.”

“On the contrary. I have no choice,” you gritted your teeth, clumsily standing up. “I must go where she goes. Even if it is a path I hate to follow.”

“Do you truly realise who I am?” Your husband titled his head at your words. “All the stories they have told you about me when you were a child – I am worse than any of them.”

“I am fully aware,” you approached him and held Almárea’s free hand. “And that is why I must go to make sure you do not turn her into a monster like you.”

It took you a few days of travel with the filthy army of Orcs to get to Mordor. You and Sauron did not exchange a single word during this trip. Almárea was riding with you on your horse for half of the day and then she would go to ride with her father. You made no stops on your way, so after arriving in Mordor, you and your daughter were exhausted.

The land was dark and barren, full of fire and ashes. It looked like hell but you decided not to complain because you realised you were on thin ice already – Sauron did not treat you like his consort in any way. Apparently, you would be nothing but a mother to his child from now on. Any sign of disobedience could be punished with exile and that was the last thing you wanted. You needed to be close to your daughter.

He ordered the Orcs to build him a grand fortress but until then, you resided in a big mansion that had once belonged to a rich human family of The Southlands. You had an awful view of Mount Doom from there and the rooms were all beautifully decorated but also dusty and worn out.

Once again – you did not complain. You did not dare.

You followed Sauron to the chambers he had decided would be yours and Almárea’s. He was carrying her in his arms as she was half-asleep already. You watched him put her to bed and caress her head as you sat down on the chair next to the bed. You held her little hand and squeezed it lovingly, watching her drift off to the land of dreams. Those past few days had been difficult and exhausting for her.

Sauron straightened his back and looked down at you with a bit of contempt but also affection – mixed together, they made you feel deeply uncomfortable.

“Do you remember?” He asked, speaking his very first sentence to you in days.

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him, questioningly. Your husband extended his hand and touched your cheek with it.

At that moment, your vision got blurry and you felt yourself go back in time a few years to one, specific memory. One of the most beautiful days you had ever lived.

You were sitting by the river, in a field full of flowers. Almárea was about a year old and clumsily taking her first steps. You watched Annatar helping her and chuckling at her harmless but funny falls as she kept giggling and blabbering, excitedly. The sun was slowly setting and you felt at peace. You truly believed your whole life would be just like that.

When Sauron took his hand away from your face, you found yourself back in Mordor, stripped of any faith and any dignity.

“Why did you show me that?” You asked him, angrily, as your eyes filled with fresh tears.

“It was the only moment when I felt that I should, perhaps, abandon my old life and remain in Eregion as Annatar by your side forever,” he confessed.

“Perhaps you should have,” was all you answered, in a whisper nearly inaudible as you watched him walk away with tears streaming down your cheeks.

You had cried out so many of them recently that you were starting to feel hollow and empty.

Weeks passed, maybe months. You had lost track of time since all your days were the same. You were given quite a lot of freedom because Sauron was sure you would never leave his side as long as Almárea was there. You were allowed to walk around the mansion and even take walks although you did not crave them at all since Mordor was not the perfect place to spend time outside.

You were barely exchanging any words with your husband and you seemed to avoid each other. However, he was making sure you were not short on anything. Once in a while there was a package waiting for you on your bed. Inside it you would find gifts – books to read or new dresses. And yesterday you had found an embroidery set, which filled your heart with joy.

You missed embroidery and you even considered it quite thoughtful that he had remembered about it. So, you were sitting by the window and focusing on your craft, trying to recreate Mount Doom, which your daughter loved for some reason. You wanted to make her happy.

You were focused on your work when the doors opened loudly, making you misplace the needle and hurt yourself as you hissed and looked up at your husband.

“Where is Almárea?” He asked, looking around the room.

“Is she not with you? Are you not teaching her your craft of treachery and deception like every day?” You asked with a sigh, defeated.

Sauron rolled his eyes but decided not to comment on your remark.

“I told her to go back to her mother about two hours ago,” he informed you and your heart skipped a beat at that revelation.

“Why didn’t you walk her here yourself?” You asked.

“I had an important matter to attend to and it is not like she is a toddler, is it?” Sauron clenched his jaw but you spotted a glimpse of panic in his eyes. “Where is she?”

“How can I know?! I thought she was with you!” You stood up instantly and put your embroidery set down before rushing out of your chambers. “Almárea!” You called out. “Almárea!”

“Have you seen Lady Almárea?” Sauron asked one of the Orcs walking down the hall.

“N-no, my Lord Sauron,” the Orc shook his head and you watched your husband sit his throat just like that. Usually, you found this behaviour of his dreadful. But now you were too scared and worried for your daughter to care

You kept searching for her all over the mansion, calling out her name, leaving a pile of dead Orcs behind because none of them could answer Sauron about Almárea’s location.

“I think she must have gone outside,” you said after bumping into your husband in the corridor. You watched his eyes widen even further in terror and concern. You snorted at that. “What are you? Scared of losing your precious tool?” You asked him with contempt.

That only angered him further as he grabbed your arm and squeezed it so tightly that you were sure there was a bruise forming already.

“Do not ever say that again,” he drawled out through gritted teeth right into your face. “Do not speak of matters you have no idea of.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. Despite everything between you two – it seemed like you shared a thread together and that was love for your daughter. And because you were a worried mother, you regretted inflicting any pain upon a worried father.

“Forgive me,” you whispered and he let go of your arm.

“Do you have any idea where she could go?” Sauron asked you and you shook your head before freezing as you realised.

“Mount Doom,” you whispered. “For some reason, she adores it,” you explained.

“We must not waste any moment then,” Sauron grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind him as you two ran out of the mansion.

The forsaken volcano was not very far away from your home but it still took you quite a while to get there. The air was poisonous around it, making you choke and tear up. You were no mortal, therefore you were in no danger, but it was still an inconvenience. 

“If anything happened to her, I shall be the one to kill you, whatever it takes!” You threatened your husband and he did not even say anything to this. He let go of your wrist and proceeded to climb up.

You followed him but in many places the ground was slippery and you needed his support. His hand would grab you each time you stumbled and pull you up.

Breathing heavily, both covered in dirt from the ashes, you stood there, petrified, seeing Almárea sitting by the edge of the volcano and staring at it spitting out fire. She seemed to be content with her position. You looked up at Sauron with terror in your eyes and he left you behind to approach your daughter with extended hands.

“Almárea, what are you doing here? Have you not been told to never go outside without me or your mother?” Sauron asked, carefully.

“Ugh, daddy, I know, I am sorry. I was just so curious about this mountain and guess what? It is even better than I have imagined,” she confessed with a smile. “Do you know what it reminds me of?”

“What, Almárea?” He asked, taking a few more small steps closer to her.

“A forge,” she answered. “I miss uncle Celebrimbor’s one and this place makes me feel as if I was back there. Oh, daddy, can you imagine all the beautiful things we could craft here?” She asked with a smile.

Sauron froze for a moment as you watched the scene with a raised eyebrow. He looked around as if he had just realised something brilliant.

“Yes, I can, my darling. And we will,” he assured her. “But please, come to me and mummy now, will you?” He extended his hand even further and she nodded, eagerly.

You both gasped watching her stand up because one little wrong move could cause her to fall down the volcano. She, however, seemed to be oblivious. She skipped along towards her father and Sauron picked her up in an instant, squeezing her tight and caressing the back of her head.

Your heart swelled inside your chest at the realisation that he truly cared for her and truly loved her  – even if it was not enough to save her from making her play a part in his schemes.

“Can we go back home, please?” You pleaded and it was the very first time you called that awful place your home.

Sauron nodded at you and you began your walk down the mountain. You were still shaking slightly and holding onto his sleeve to make sure you would not fall. Just like in the old days, he was bringing you comfort and safety – he was making you feel protected even if it was only being protected from a fall.

When you reached your mansion, Sauron took Almárea to the chambers she shared with you. Her skin and robes were dirty with mud and ashes, therefore you prepared her a bath and helped her to undress and get inside the bathtub.

“Call for me if you need anything,” you told her as you placed a new dress on the chair for her to dress herself into after the bath. “Be careful, my darling,” you smiled at her and left her alone in the bathroom, although you left the door ajar just in case.

Sauron was still inside your chambers and staring out of the window at Mount Doom. You sighed at the sight of his back turned on you and you decided to approach him softly.

Your hands acted before you allowed them to and they placed themselves on his arm softly. Your body ached for him and his presence; it was too used to his touch.

He flinched a little and turned his head around to look down at you with a puzzled expression.

“I miss you,” you confessed. “I miss being close to you,” you added.

“You miss Annatar, not me,” he shrugged his arms and looked out of the window again.

“Was Annatar not you? From the very beginning, my husband was Sauron. I only chose to be blind to see it,” you whispered and he looked back at you again, surprised to hear your words.

“Do I not repulse you?” He snorted.

“It does not change the fact I love you still,” you sighed and pressed your cheek to his arm. You both remained dirty from the ashes but you did not mind that all because today’s shared experience of fear and concern for your daughter had brought you two close together once more.

“Your love differs from mine,” he pointed out, a little harshly.

“It has not escaped me,” you let out a chuckle and nuzzled your face deeper into his sleeve. “But it is alright that we love differently. I do not want to be your Queen, I do not want you to share your power with me. All I want is to–”

“Have a family with me,” Sauron finished the sentence softly and you looked up at him, gently. It was the very first time in a long time when your eyes filled with affection for him again. “I was never keen on the idea of having offspring,” he admitted. “But then you made me realise what a blessing children might be,” he cracked a smile and raised his hand to caress your cheek. “I was terrified of my potential child stealing my powers and overthrowing me but Almárea… Her powers and her mind terrify me in the most exquisite way. Do you know why she is so perfect?” He asked and you shook your head. “Because she is half you. She is half light and half darkness. The perfect balance and what else could possibly heal Middle-earth?”

You hated yourself but you found yourself falling for his beautiful words once again. You could never be sure after everything that had happened if his sweet nothings, promises and love declarations were ever genuine. Perhaps, you would forever wonder about it. But despite all of that, the dreadful memories of Eregion’s downfall and his behaviour then were becoming blurry with time and you were ready to move on; to start another chapter with him.

And, as usual, you had an excuse for your husband, too. He had been nervous then. Of course he had been the worst version of himself. But it did not mean he would always be like this. Right now he was not.

“Come here, my love,” Sauron pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Oh, how I have missed you, too, my darling. And even though it brought me great pain, I knew I had to wait for you to come to me out of your own free will.”

“Here I stand,” you whispered and a single tear streamed down your cheek.

“Almárea asked me about us,” Sauron put his hands on your arms and moved away slightly to be able to look at your face. “She wonders if we still love each other. I told her it was complicated.”

“I told her the very same thing,” you smiled sadly.

“But it is not, is it?” He raised an eyebrow and you shook your head, laughing nervously through your tears.

“No,” you admitted. “It is not.”

“It is true that I had my reasons to choose you out of all Elven maidens. And it is true that I was scared of having a son with you because I thought that the chances of a son overthrowing me would be higher,” he admitted and you furrowed your brows. “But you have become the most dear to me, the most precious,” he confessed and turned you around, making you look at Mount Doom as his hands lowered themselves to your abdomen.

You knew what he was about to do. You flinched at first, torn on the inside if it was truly what you wanted. Last time you had been deceived but now you would willingly allow it, despite knowing the true nature of the man who was your husband.

You looked down at his hands resting on your womb. He was still wearing a golden ring on his finger that you had put there on the day of your wedding. And you were still wearing yours because you still loved him despite hating yourself for it. You still wanted to be around him as if he was something addictive that you could not live without. And your womb was still open for more of his offspring.

You relaxed and when he sensed your consent, you could feel the warmth radiating off of his hands and filling you up, forming a new life inside of you.

You put your hands on top of his and squeezed them for courage.

“A son,” he whispered into your ear with lots of satisfaction and excitement.

“Another tool for you to use,” you pointed out.

“Another child for you to love and spoil,” Sauron brushed your hair strand and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Another thread of love binding us together.”

“Mummy? Daddy?” Almárea’s voice made you both turn around. She walked out of the bathroom in her new dress and kept looking at you two with a big grin. “Does it mean you are in love again?” She asked, full of hope.

“Oh, my darling, we have never stopped being in love,” you assured her and opened your arms to allow her to give you a hug. You did not want her to know all the details about the nature of your relationship with her father. She had already seen and witnessed way too much.

She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tight, which only made her smile grow even wider as she looked up.

“I am going to have a sibling!” She exclaimed, happily, after sensing the new life inside of you.

“You are going to have many,” Sauron spoke as he reached his hand out to caress her hair. “And each of you will get their own kingdom to rule over in my name and their own Ring,” he shared his new plan as a shiver went down your spine. “And all Middle-earth will be healed at once for your mother’s light and my darkness combine like two precious metals; balancing and amplifying everything I could ever be on my own.”

“But… But you will still rule over us all, right, daddy?” Almárea asked hopefully, as if she was already scared of the responsibility that one day would be put upon her shoulders.

“Oh, of course, little one,” Sauron smiled lovingly at her. “I shall always bear the biggest burden of power for that is a father’s one to carry.”

He loved her – of that you were sure now. But no amount of his love could protect her from his schemes and his manipulations. Therefore, he had to love you as well and no amount of cruelty he had put you through contradicted it.

That was the way Sauron loved. It was a cursed devotion but also a blessed one.

MASTERLIST

[writtenbymoonflower]

how about

and hear me out

room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate

oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered

1.1k words

Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you. 

They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.

That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with. 

“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.

“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand. 

“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius. 

“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.

“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.

“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs” 

“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar. 

“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.” 

“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup. 

“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug. 

“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone. 

“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away. 

“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive. 

You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved. 

“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy. 

“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.

“Do you have work today, love?” 

“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up. 

“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.

“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced. 

“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper. 

“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch. 

“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest. 

“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”

Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak. 

“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James. 

“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp. 

Baby. Baby. Baby.

It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.

[veltana]

No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.

Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.

The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."

Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.

When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.

Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.

"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.

Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.

"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.

"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.

You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.

"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.

"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.

"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.

"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.

"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.

"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.

When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.

For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.

The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.

The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.

The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.

In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.

Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.

After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."

Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.

When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.

"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"

"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.

"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.

When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.

But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.

After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.

It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.

Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.

You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.

The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.

"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.

"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.

"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.

"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.

Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.

You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.

With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.

Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."

You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.

"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"

An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."

It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.

"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.

"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.

"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"

Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.

"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.

Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.

The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.

"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.

"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.

"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."

"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.

"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."

There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.

"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."

Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.

Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."

"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.

Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.

It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.

"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."

"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.

They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."

Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.

"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."

You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.

Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”

The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.

“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.

Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.

You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."

"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.

Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."

Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.

“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.

“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”

When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.

What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.

You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.

If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.

After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”

Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.

"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.

The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.

"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."

His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.

"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.

Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."

Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”

Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.

The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."

Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.

"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.

"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.

He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.

"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.

It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.

Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?

"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."

It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”

Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.

You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.

It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.

"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.

Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.

When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.

The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.

Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.

Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.

Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.

Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."

Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.

You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.

You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.

You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"

"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."

To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.

All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.

"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.

Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.

The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.

"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”

"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."

You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."

Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.

You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.

"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.

"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.

"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.

"You sound so fucking pretty."

"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."

"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."

You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.

"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.

Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.

For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.

Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.

John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.

When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.

Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.

"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."

[notsoverymerry]

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

<jeong yunho x fem!reader>

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.'' 

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

[plathfiles]

Felix catton x reader where oliver is being really weird towards reader and felix is protective

gah this sounds excellent! thank you for the request!

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers!!! bit of an au, language and light nsfw, stalking, obsession. one use of y/n

————————————————————————

It was your first summer at Saltburn and you and Felix were attached at the hip.

Reading together by the poolside, you were curled up to his chest and reading the Harry Potter book that was passed around the entire group that summer. Felix had just finished it and now it was your turn.

Felix was reading a book that you had recommended to him — “The Secret History” by Donna Tart. Getting board with reading, you sat yourself up. A groan escaped Felix’s lips and you smiled. “Just going for a swim, care to join?” You asked, turning to him.

He seemed tempted, but he couldn’t put his book down. You just had that good of taste. “Maybe after I finish this chapter love,” he said. You nodded and made your way to the pool.

A moment later and out of thin air, Oliver appeared next to you. Oliver was quite jealous of the fact Felix had invited both of you to Saltburn. He wanted Felix to himself but Felix couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.

“I can see you both love each other very much,” Oliver says slowly and calculated. He turns his head to meet your gaze and there is a glimmer in his eyes.

“We do,” you confirm, a smile creeping onto your face. You blushed.

“I can hear you in the next room,” Oliver said, making his way towards you. “I see how he fucks you and how much control he has over you,” he said, getting only slightly closer.

You back away, looking at him with some confusion. ‘Why would he watch you and Felix?’

“Felix and I’s relationship is none of your business Oliver,” you retorted, snappily.

Before Oliver could respond, Felix cannonball’s into the pool. Swimming over to you, he slides his arms around your waist.

“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, a slight bit aggressive. Then Oliver replied. “Oh nothing, just my party,” he shrugged lying, swimming away from the both of you.

You let it be, too stunned to speak.

Later that night, you and Felix had snuck away after dinner. You two were in the labyrinth, Felix’s hands pulling at your waist. His lips trailing kisses down your neck leaving love bites and little marks as he went.

“Felix,” you giggled, his touch soft but still tickling.

“What?” He smiled teasingly, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face. You both made eye contact. Felix was much taller than yourself and you enjoyed how he towered over you. He brushed some hair from your face and leaned into kiss you.

But you backed away in fright, from the corner of your eyes you could see someone in the bushes.

Felix grew concerned, having never seen you like this.

“Whats wrong?” Felix asked.

You saw a figure near a hedge, the person looked small and angry. You looked back to Felix. “It’s Oliver,” you whispered, hoping he would believe you.

Felix saw your frightened eyes and got up from on top of you. “Oliver?” He shouted to the dark.

You saw now that no one was there.

Felix turned to you, “Are you okay? Because no one was there,” he said, concerned.

You shook your head, standing up. “No I’m not alright. I just saw Oliver watching us, right after he told me today that he stalks us,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.

“Do you not believe me?” You asked Felix.

Felix came up to you and embraced you in a soft hug. “I believe you,” he said. “He lied about his family. I’m not sure what to do.” Felix added.

“He lied about his family?” You asked, growing more concerned. “He’s a psychopath,” you said, pulling away from Felix.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Felix said, protectively. “I’ll get mum to throw him out right after the party tomorrow night,” he said.

You nodded, “stay by my side,” you said. Felix took your hand and kissed your forehead, “I won’t let him near you.”

The next night at the party, you were dressed as a nymph. There was glitter in your hair and on your cheeks. You wore an old silky night gown, which Felix said he couldn’t wait to take off later.

Felix had kept his word and stayed next to you the whole night. Elsbeth and Sir James loved the look of you two, enjoying yourselves and having fun.

You didn’t see Oliver anywhere and wondered where he could be lurking.

Towards the end of the night, Felix wanted to get you back to his bedroom. On the way up the stairs, you ran into Oliver.

Felix went infront of you, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not from this lying creep. “Go away Oliver,” he said strongly.

“I wanted to explain myself,” he said, sounding drunk.

“We don’t want your explanations,” Felix replied. “You lied to me and my family. And then you admitted to stalking me and y/n,” he said.

Oliver came closer, “I just wanted to be your friend. One of the group.” He said pathetically.

Felix went to move past Oliver, you following behind. As you went passed Oliver he tried to grab you and Felix turned to punch him in the face.

“Don’t touch her!” Felix yelled, causing some faces, including the Catton family and Farleigh to see.

Oliver in his drunken state missed a couple steps and fell. Not terribly injured he propped himself up. He was gone from Saltburn the following morning.

[writingdumpster]

secret wife

pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

warnings: none, all fluff

summary: When you go to pick up Bob at the base the dagger squad finds out that Bob's been keeping a wife from them.

word count: 1k

A/N: Thanks for 3k followers!

Bob pulled his phone out of his locker as the guys all piled into the locker room behind him. There was a text from you awaiting Bob. 

I’m waiting in the lobby for you. Don’t take too long. xoxo

“Did you guys see the hot girl in the lobby?” Coyote asked as he walked into the locker room. Bob smirked to himself as he started to take off his flight suit. 

“Who do you think she is?” Fanboy pondered. 

“I was gonna find out after we got changed,” Rooster said. 

“Don’t bother. Bet she’s a recruit’s girlfriend,” Payback suggested. 

“Who do you think?” Asked Hangman. 

“I don’t know,” Payback responded. “But I know what a woman in love looks like.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hangman teased Payback. 

“I’m married,” Payback pointed out. 

“So you tell us, but we’ve never seen your wife,” Rooster taunted. 

“Her picture is on my dash,” Payback said. 

“Could be anyone,” Fanboy joined in. 

“You’ve met her, Fanboy,” Payback said. 

“You can’t prove anything,” Fanboy teased. Bob was quietly enjoying the conversation as he grabbed the rest of his things. He slipped his bag over his shoulders and closed his locker. 

“See y’all tomorrow,” Bob said as he headed out to meet you in the lobby. When he rounded the corner his smile widened as you stood to greet him. You were wearing paint stained jeans and an old t-shirt that used to be Bob’s, but it had been years since that was true. It was yours now, just like he was. 

“You changed out of the flight suit,” you said forlornly when Bob walked up. 

“It was all sweaty, angel,” Bob told you.

“I wanted to take it off you though,” you whined. Bob gave you a cheeky grin. 

“You want me to put on the white uniform when I get home?” Bob offered. He leaned down and kissed you tenderly before you could answer. 

“The hot girl is your girlfriend?” Hangman practically shouted from behind Bob. He turned over his shoulder to see the whole squad watching the two of you. 

“Wife, actually,” Bob said. “Been meaning to introduce ya.” 

“You didn’t say you have a wife!” Phoenix exclaimed. 

“Didn’t come up,” Bob said. “We’ve only known each other for a month.” Everyone gawked at Bob, thinking a month was plenty of time to let your friends know you have a wife. 

“He likes to keep me protected from his work,” you piped in when Bob failed to explain himself. Bob wound his fingers between yours. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

“What’s your name?” Phoenix asked. 

“Y/N,” you told her. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Phoenix murmured. You could hear in her voice that she felt betrayed by Bob. You knew he wouldn’t notice though. You wanted to stop him from hurting her more.

“I keep my ring on my dog tags,” Bob said, pulling them up from his shirt to prove it. 

“I thought it was your dad’s,” Phoenix told him. “You always talk about him.” 

“Bobby’s told me a lot about you,” you interjected. “I was hoping you would have dinner with us. I’d like to make the pilot who saved my Bobby a good meal.” Phoenix met your eye and you gave her a warm smile. She gave a tiny nod and smiled back. 

“I’d love to, ma’am,” Phoenix said. 

“I’m her wingman,” Rooster called. “Could say that I kept Bobby safe too.” Bob blushed brightly. 

“Payback and I were on the mission,” Fanboy said.

“I saved Bob’s wingman,” Hangman added. You looked up at Bob in question. 

“They know you’re the one who makes my lunches now,” Bob said. You giggled. You always made Bob his lunches. When he was deployed he didn’t get good home cooked meals, so you made sure he had them three times a day when he was home with you. 

“Well, some of you might have to sit on the couch, but I’d be happy to cook for my husband’s friends,” you said.  

“I can’t believe that baby on board has a wife and you don’t even have a girlfriend,” Hangman teased Rooster. 

“You don’t either,” Rooster spit back. 

“No woman can hold me down,” Hangman joked. 

“He’s the one your sister would like, right?” You asked, trying to keep your voice quiet. 

“You’ve got a sister?” Hangman called out. 

“Yeah,” Bob said. “And I’m quite sure she could hold you down if she wanted.” Hangman’s eyes widened. You chuckled. 

“You’re going to set him up with your sister?” Rooster complained. 

“That’s y/n’s scheme. She wants my sister to live near us,” Bob explained. 

“She’s funnier than you, Bobby,” you said. 

“You do spend a lot of time laughing at me together,” Bob teased. He didn’t really mind though. Everytime he had come home to find you and his sister in tears from laughing so hard it had made him even more sure that he’d chosen the right person to marry. 

“Well, when do I get to meet her?” Hangman asked, a wide smirk on his face. 

“I’ll have her come over for dinner with all of you,” you said. “Next Sunday at 6:00. Don’t be late,” you told them. Then you tugged on Bob’s hand, signaling you wanted to go home. 

“Bye, guys,” Bob said. “See ya in the morning.” With that he slung his arm around your shoulders and led you out of the base. 

“I can’t believe Bob didn’t tell us he has a wife,” Payback muttered. 

“I can’t believe Hangman’s the first choice for his sister,” Fanboy said. 

“Why not? You think Bob wants to be related to any of you?” Hangman asked proudly. Rooster snorted. 

“Yes. I would have thought he’d want any of us before you.”  

A/N: There is a part two of the dinner now available

[the-californicationist]

Solomon's Seal

John Price works hard to maintain his self-discipline, but sometimes he loses his grip on that fiery temper of his. When he needs help to feel in control again, he turns to you and your impeccable rope skills. You try to keep things professional, but that proves challenging for both of you. After all, John is just a friend, one of your best clients… so why do you keep imagining him as more?

TW: rope bondage, femdom, crying, emotional hurt/comfort, female genitals. Please check AO3 link below for full tag list.

Big huge thank you and kudos to the amazing and beautiful @gemmahale for her ideas and support on this one! Love you, bestie.

You had cleared your schedule the moment you hung up the phone with him. His voice had sounded so strained, like he was struggling to say the words. You knew that, sometimes, John Price’s work asked too much of him, but this time, he seemed so far beyond his usual level of need that you decided it was better to play it safe and cancel all of your other clients for the week. 

As you cleaned your studio, you made additional preparations. Something in your gut was telling you to prepare for the worst. You did your best to remember what he liked. No music, low lights, a soft fan for a bit of a breeze, and jute ropes — none of the synthetics in sight. You eyed your collection; eight hanks should have been enough, but you grabbed four more from the back room just to be sure. 

You never really pried into his life during his visits, knowing there was probably much he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell you. He had given you just enough information for you to understand the basics, and you had scoured the internet with those small clues to uncover the rest. At best, he was a soldier, handling the expected dangers and stressors of the job. At worst, he was a literal weapon, aimed and fired at His Majesty’s darkest enemies; a demon hunter meant only for darkness and secrets and pain. 

When he had come to you last November, bruised and battered, craving your particular set of skills, you had surmised that it was the latter. Sometimes, when you caught a glimpse of the news, you looked at the bombed buildings of Urzikstan for a sign of him, hoping you wouldn’t see one. When there was a battle lost or won, plastered across the front page of the news, you wondered if he had been there in the thick of it, protecting the world from the monsters that ravaged that land, keeping them from your privileged doorstep. 

You checked your clock. He’d be in from Heathrow within the hour. You got to work in the wet room, digging around for the soaps he liked best. His favorite bathing oil was a complex, spicy mix of coriander, basil, and bergamot scents. You’d never admit it to him, but you used it when you found yourself thinking about him, unable to get your equally complex, spicy warrior out of your mind.

John was so different from most of your clients. Many people who came to you were usually seeking something other than what you were prepared to give them. Half of your customers came for sex, for which you added them to your blacklist. The other half was a mixed bag seeking humiliation or reassurance, trying to use you and your art as an alternative to counseling or as a way to explore their kinks. They usually didn’t return after they experienced the level of your craft. You did have a handful of repeat clients who appreciated the practice itself, but they usually had their own partners to play with. You were just a novelty to them. An escape. 

Working as a traditional Bakushi was no fleeting hobby, not for you anyway. For you, it was a spiritual calling. John was one of the only clients who understood that and actively wanted to learn more. He had asked for stretching routines, breathing exercises, and advice on meditation. Your soldier was the real deal, even if he couldn’t remember any of the terminology to save his life. You were just happy he had managed to adopt the word shibari into his vocabulary. You could forgive the rest. He didn’t need to know the names of the knots or the positions of the body in order to benefit from his practice. 

Your doorbell rang. You took a breath to calm yourself. You needed to be centered for John. Yes, you were excited to see him, but he needed you to be his rock right now, and you needed to push your own desires out of your mind.

The door cracked open, and there he stood. He was just as you remembered him, but he looked like he’d been through hell. Those bright blue eyes were sporting a dark, purple shiner on his left orbital bone. He had cut his lip across the top and bottom, a red line still marring the sensitive flesh. John had cut down his beard to a more manageable level, but his hair was long and unkempt. What worried you most were the dark red welts he wore around his neck. It looked like ropeburn. 

“John,” you smiled softly, “So good to see you again. Please come in.”

The formalities of such a polite greeting seemed silly to you after what you had been through together. Sessions with John were always… intense. 

He stepped into your foyer, looking at you like he had missed you, but you didn’t allow yourself to give in to the fantasy. He needed you to be professional, and you had a job to do.

You took his hand and led him into your sitting room, offered him a glass of water, and sat beside him. He held your hand in his, refusing to let go, playing with the small bones in your middle finger absentmindedly. You smiled at him, enjoying the quiet of his presence, letting yourself take in these silent moments, unwilling to break the spell of peace until absolutely necessary. 

He seemed content to bask in the tranquility as well, happy to rub your delicate knuckle back and forth with his thumb, letting his eyes explore you, lingering on your long, silk robe, his gaze burning into your sternum at the join of your breasts. 

“How can I help you, John?”

He took a long breath through his nose, his eyes diverting back down to your connected hands; shame, regret. 

“I lost control, again.”

You had heard those words from him before. When he first found you, he told you about his temper. He hadn’t given you any details, but apparently he had hurt an enemy beyond what was necessary. Something he had done had changed him. He wanted to be different, to be more even-keeled, so he’d come to you for help. 

“The same as last time?” You asked, hoping it would be better than you suspected.

“Worse,” he looked up at you and flashed a tight-lipped, bitter smile. 

You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. 

“Tell me what you need,” you ran your other hand across his wounded cheek, watching as the shine of his eyes gleamed in the low light. 

His emotions were at war all over his face. His wet lashes, the twitch of his lip, his darting, avoidant eyes; you could almost hear him fighting in his mind. You put a stop to it, scooting closer to him on the deep sofa, holding his stubbled chin in your hand, 

“Hey, you know you can tell me. If it’s within my power to give it to you, you know that I will.”

“I know, love,” he nodded his head, “I think you might try to talk me out of it, is all.”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to work it out. Rebuilding your trust together after some time apart wasn’t something to be rushed. Finally, after a few moments of thought, he studied your face and admitted his desires,

“I want it all. Just like last spring, but more. I need more.”

Your eyes widened before you could stop yourself. You remembered last spring. Vividly. In fact, you had thought about that appointment more times than you would ever admit. He had pushed himself so far, he’d trusted you so deeply, and you’d watched him heal from his wounds. He’d found a new kind of peace. You remember holding him, still bound, both of you sprawled across the floor, sweaty and grinning, your foreheads pressed together, sharing in his joy. 

But, you also knew that him wanting more meant that you would be restraining him from head to toe. He’d done arm and chest bindings with you, and in the spring, you’d put him in a single-leg frog tie. But, you’d never done full body work with him. For all of his progress, John still had issues letting his power be taken from him. He wanted to be in control, almost to the point of obsession, and it was only when he was in your ropes that he was able to practice internal control over himself without threat of judgment or danger. He could examine his temper in your safe setting, testing it like a scientist, finding new strengths within himself, mental hurdles to overcome.

However, you worried about what his mental state would be like when he was fully at your mercy. Had he ever been at anyone’s mercy? You doubted it. 

He could see you rolling over the problem in your mind, watching as you thought it through, imagining the possibilities. 

“What d’ya say, love? Think we can try?” His eyes met yours, and you nodded. 

“Yes, let’s try.”

“I might… uh,” he hesitated, clearly unsure of how his next request might be received, “I’m not sure how to say this, but I might need you… after. I know that’s not what you do, but after last spring, I thought you might make an exception.”

You were fully aware of what he meant. Last spring, laying there sweaty and swimming in euphoria together, you had broken your own rule. You’d let your body slide over John’s naked, tied form, and you’d rubbed his cock across your belly and on top of your pussy, sharing an orgasm together. It was reckless of you, and fully outside of the scope of your role, but it was what was right for you both at the time. He hadn’t asked for a repeat performance, always the perfect gentleman, until now.

You nodded, 

“Thank you for asking. We’ll see how it goes, and I’ll check in again at the end. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You moved to leave the comfort of the sofa, but he caught your hand,

“Can we start now? Just a bit. If that’s alright.”

“Alright,” you agreed, “Any new injuries I should know about?”

His face stretched into a boyish smile,

“Too many to count.”

You shook your head, ducking into your studio to grab one hank of rope,

“You’re the only one who gets a pass on that, you know.”

You watched his eyes dart to your hands as you untied the bundle, looping the rope end over end, making your first bight. His energy was electric, but you could see something dark slithering underneath. 

“I’ll start now, but you need to talk to me. What makes it worse now, John?”

You stood in the middle of the room, watching as he moved into position in front of you. You waited patiently, not needing to give him instructions. John knew what you wanted from him. 

He avoided your question, going through the motions of preparing his body for your work. He tugged off his coat and tee shirt, raking it over his broad back, and you tried to ignore the aching red marks that littered his scarred skin. Then, he unbuckled his belt, letting the metal tip clatter and clang in the quiet room, dropping his jeans and peeling off his shoes and socks. Naked, he folded his clothes and lay them to the side. Then, he found his neutral position, kneeling at your feet, palms flat on his thighs, head bowed as if in prayer. 

“Hands behind your head, palm to palm,” you spoke your first command, listening to the timbre of your voice and knowing it was different. You were changing into the person that he needed; someone strong, unyielding. 

He complied, but he looked a little surprised. You’d never asked him for this position before, but you knew it would get his attention. He would feel the vulnerability of it immediately, his sensitive ribs and armpits exposed. 

You started your work, tying his wrists carefully, making sure to leave the proper amount of room, running the rope, rubbing between the soft jute and his hairy skin to check and double check it for safety. As soon as you had one wrist bound, you moved to the other and heard him begin to talk. 

“I nearly lost one of my men last week. Good bloke. Took a bullet for me, so I broke the rules.”

“Which rules?”

“All of them,” he looked up at you, rueful and yet unrepentant.

“Would you do it differently,” you admired the smoothness of his wrist, watching as his pulse beat just under the thin skin, rushing through blue veins, “If you could go back in time?”

“No,” Price’s voice was like that of a beast. A dragon. It was a short, simple word, but within it, you understood exactly the feeling of vengeance he was carrying within it. No, he would not go back and change his actions. He would repeat them. That much was clear. 

“It doesn’t sound to me like you were out of control, then,” you looped the knots of his wrists around a temporary harness, simple and quick. This was just for now. You had bigger plans for him after you bathed. 

John’s mouth turned up into a wry smile, thinking about your assessment, then he said,

“You might be right, love. But, I’m here. I needed this. Needed you. There must be a reason I feel so bloody lost.”

“Let’s find your way back, then. Stand up.”

You led him by the end of the rope to the wet room. The off-white tiles glowed yellow in the candlelight you had prepared, and as you turned on the tap, the room filled with steam. You watched John’s face become indecipherable as you untied the ribbon of your robe, letting the silk pool at your feet, stepping into the shower before him. 

You pointed to the small stool in the middle of the wide shower, 

“Sit.”

It was a huge installation. During the build process in your renovated space, you’d asked for two large rainshower heads and a massage wand with a flat drain in the center. John knelt in between the two heads, but well within reach of the wand. You switched it on, watching the water jerk and flow through the metal hose, holding it towards your chest and out of his eyes. 

You started with his feet, washing them with only warm water first before moving the wand up his legs, wetting his body in stages. You didn’t use your hands yet, but you were eager to. John was quite the specimen, and you felt yourself flush as your eyes explored his body, lingering on places they really shouldn’t. 

You were adamant that you were a sex worker who didn’t have sex. You tried to make it abundantly clear that your clients were paying for shibari practices only, and that you did not do… happy endings. Other than your encounter with John, your clients orgasmed alone, and you went to great lengths to ensure it remained that way. But, here was your weakness, asking you to wash him while he was in your knots, warning you that he might crave a sensual aftercare scene, that he’d been thinking about you. It made your skin flush, and even though you were comfortable in your own skin, his obvious desire for you in such a carnal way made you hyper-aware of your bare flesh. 

The wand sat back in its hook, water paused, and the only sounds were the quiet drippings against the tile, a slight sucking from the drain, your breathing. You scraped the soap into your palm, making sure to lather it into a rich, thick foam. You stood, walking around him to his back, and began with his bound hands and arms, rubbing his warm, swollen muscles with your palms, spreading the suds over him liberally. 

A long, animalistic groan shuddered through John’s lungs, echoing in the bath. It set your nerves on fire to know that you were giving him such pleasure. You wanted more. 

You moved to his back, massaging the scented soap into his body, working his skin firmly to promote his bloodflow. As you made pass after pass, his moans became steady and breathy, his mouth hanging open, unable to fight the relaxation he was experiencing. 

You washed his legs and feet, needing to bend over him in order to reach the length of his huge thighs. In doing so, your bare breasts came in contact with his back, only light tapping at first, swaying forward as you washed him. You could tell that he could feel you, and he froze, his noises of pleasure turning into hitched breaths, shocked and inaudible. 

Your clients usually washed themselves, but John had asked for special treatment, and this was a new experience for you, too. You tamped down on your excitement, but you couldn’t hide your nature. As you leaned forward to wash his knees and shins, ankles and feet, you had to press your soft tits and contrastingly taut nipples against him, over and over, like two inkless stamps, leaving impressions on his wet skin. 

Standing again, you waited to give yourself a minute to compose your emotions. The tips of your hair were damp, and your chest was shining from his soapy torso. You tried to wipe the shine away, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. He needed to be looking inwardly, finding his deeper meaning. Staring at your gleaming, sensitive tits was not what he was paying for, no matter what your biology might have wanted. 

You stepped around to his front, and you marveled at how big his frame truly was. While sitting, even though the stool was low, his eyes were directly in line with your furry mons. If he only tilted his chin up a little, he could lick…

Your mind clamped down on that thought like a vice. You breathed steady, kneeling before him and reapplying the soap to your hands, trying to refocus yourself on your work. 

That was proving more difficult by the moment. Washing his broad chest was like something out of a dream. His nipples were so responsive, and now you could see the way his face twisted with pleasure as your hands massaged your serums into his skin. Every swipe over his pink nubs make him gasp in a new pitch, his brow furrowed with desperation, but his eyes stayed pinned to the tile, just like he was meant to. You expected all of your subs to avert their gaze, to concentrate on their mind, and you made it clear that the practice would stop if they lacked the discipline to do so. 

You had never been more grateful for that standard, because if John’s sharp, pale blue eyes found yours right now, you might not be able to keep yourself from losing your own control. 

You stepped out of the shower for a moment, grabbing the tie from your robe, slipping it out of its loops. Then, as a way to anchor yourself, you wrapped it tightly around your wrist, twisting the knots you made so that they would face inwardly, the discomfort reminding you of your duties as his dominant. It would work for now, you hoped. 

Already, you could feel yourself coming back online, as if someone had splashed cold water in your face. That was, until you turned back to John and saw the last part of your process.

You peered down into his lap, hands full of creamy suds, ready to wash his belly and his nethers, only to discover that he was as hard as steel. His cock flagged tall and curved, tapping on his abdomen, far beyond his bellybutton, giving you a reminder of what was plaguing your dreams. It was beautiful. The uncut skin of his shaft folded around the rim of his ruddy head, eager to be slicked down so that you could tease the tip of him. His balls were round and full, hanging as he sat on the edge of the bench, and all you could think about was what delight was stored within them, ready to burst.

You focused on your knots, letting your one ribbon keep you grounded, and you finished the job. Your hands rubbed soap along his belly, fingers dancing through the thick happy trail of his lower abs. He was built like a workhorse, and although he was fit, his body was well-fed and wide, his core wide and protruding with his strength, thicker as he sat on the stool. There was no bodybuilder’s trim waist. He was all power, heavy and built for unimaginable destruction. You’d never seen his equal, nor a man even close to his immense form. If someone had told you John was one of Zeus’ many bastards, roaming the earth immortal and inhumanly large, you might have believed them.

“I’m going to wash the rest of your body. Remind me of your safeword so that I know you can use it,” you commanded softly, hearing your own voice bounce around the hollow room. 

John did not meet your eyes, fully committed to his submission, but you could see his cock pulse with anticipation. He spoke quietly but clearly, 

“Red.”

“Louder,” you instructed. 

“Red,” he obeyed. 

“Again.”

“Red.”

“Again.”

“Red.”

“Good. Stand up.”

You needed to make sure he was ready to proceed. John, experienced as he was, could get stuck in his sub-space just like anyone. So, you made him practice, let his mouth feel the word again and again, primed and ready to be used. 

Finally, you reached for his genitals, washing his cock and being mindful of where you spread the soap, scrubbing ever so gently down his ballsack, and then swiping across his cleft, washing through his legs to clean every last bit of him. 

Then, trying to be almost clinical about it, you washed him off, cleansing his lower extremities to ensure his comfort before hosing down the rest of him. 

Finally, you shut off the water and began to towel him dry, wiping at his dripping skin, trying to ignore how his body’s heat seemed to radiate onto your bare body, inviting you to lean just a little closer, to press into that lovely burn. 

But, you didn’t. You discarded the towel and untied your wrist cuff, leaving it with your robe. You reached behind John’s head and unbound the center knot of his ties, allowing him to bring his wrists to the front of his body like handcuffs. You used the end to lead him like a prisoner through your space, parading him to the studio quickly and quietly, eager to begin the main event. 

Once inside the studio space, you finished untying his wrists, setting him free once again. He looked down at them, running his fingertip across the raised ridges left by the ropes before dropping his arms to his sides, waiting for your instruction and guidance. 

You knelt next to your basket of rope, retrieving a hank from the stack and unwinding it. His eyes darted to your hands, watching you prepare it just for him, like a dog expecting a bone. 

“Lay in the center, arms at your sides,” you told him and watched as he followed your instruction. He was less hard now, more relaxed than before, but before long, as he lay there letting his excitement build, he strengthened again, his prick bowing up onto his stomach, flushed and full. 

You got to work. Your first goal was to put each of his legs in an advanced frog tie, turning his body on its side so that you could bind his ankle to his thigh, first one leg and then the other. Once his initial ropes were in place, you checked their tension, moving two fingers around and around, trying not to notice his mounting enthusiasm every time you brushed along his inner thigh. Then, once you were satisfied, you helped him into a kneeling position, pushing a thin buckwheat pillow under his knees for comfort. 

He shook his head, 

“Don’t need it, love. I wanna feel the floor. The pain… helps.”

You eyed him, turning your lips into a soft grin, 

“If this were a normal session, I would give that to you,” your tone got his attention, and he did look at your face now, needing to see your intent, “But, what I’m about to put you through is something different. Trust me, John.”

“I trust you.”

He settled into the pillow, returning to his meditative position. You took his hands in yours and held them between your two palms, squeezing them tight, binding them without rope for a moment. Then, you began to breathe in deep, cyclical patterns, over and over. He breathed with you, and you saw the tension leave his face. Whatever had happened to John on this last tour was plaguing him, and you slowed things down to give him a chance to control himself again. 

He breathed in with you, and his air rushed out with yours, washing over your skin like a summer wind, keeping your body responsive to him. Every now and then, as you meditated together, you caught his eyes fixed on something other than the floor. He was staring into the darkness between your legs, shadowed by your body and covered with curly hair, hidden from him in plain sight. It was hard for you to focus, knowing he had his mind on your body, but eventually, he averted his gaze, focusing inwardly again. 

Finally, when you felt his heart rate slow, you used another hank of rope to create a short waist belt, applying more tension than usual as you fed it along his hips, knowing his thick ass and thighs could take the pressure. Still, you were adamant about safety, watching him every moment for discoloration or discomfort. 

He was fidgeting now that the tighter straps were on him, and you saw him closing off his stance, bringing his knees closer together. You caught him, and used one of the loops on his thigh to pull his legs apart again,

“Spread them. Let the pressure flow through your belly and out of your center.”

“Aye,” he sighed, settling into the pain and doing his best to spread his knees wider, concentrating on the feeling. His cock was leaking now, leaving little dark marks on the canvas of his knee bolster, bobbing between his legs as he spread them wider, shining and wet. 

You grabbed another rope, trying to hone in on your work,

“I’m going to bind you in almost the same style we practiced last spring, but it will be modified to provide more of that challenge you’ve been looking for. Place your hands behind your back, palms on your elbows, if you can.”

Not every sub had the flexibility to obey, but John did. He’d been doing his stretches. As he assumed his position, his arms’ placement made his chest broad and high, stretching his pecs open while his back was pinned, the skin folding in on itself as his shoulder blades folded back like featherless wings. You threaded your rope over his shoulders, centering the bight at the back of his neck for an anchor point. It was essential that no pressure was applied to the front of his throat, and you were ever-mindful of the fresh injuries that marred his neck. 

“What happened here?” You asked, letting your finger pass under a rope that lay on his injured skin, making sure it was loose and gentle. You would give him tightness elsewhere. 

He was hesitant to answer you, but he shrugged,

“Bastard came up behind me. Before I could react, he had the wire around my throat.”

“Did you escape on your own?” You pried, trying to keep him talking as you started the long process of his arm binding. 

“Aye. He was so busy trying to choke me, he forgot I still had free hands and plenty of bloody knives in my belt.”

You praised him for his openness,

“Good.”

“Is it?” Now, you heard the doubt in his tone. It made you pause, but you simply continued with your ties, not allowing him to know that you were challenged by his cynicism or regret or whatever darkness was making him lean on his fear and anger instead of his peace.

You left his question unanswered, allowing it to hang in the air between you, forcing his mind to dwell on it. You needed him to answer it within himself before you went opening more portals to other emotions and struggles. 

You added more and more rope to his binding, and when you finished, you pulled the cord forward across his chest, resting it below his nipples, making sure to graze them as you checked your tension, enjoying the trembling shudder that came from him as your reward. It was the most advanced harness you had performed in a long time. This one was unforgiving. He couldn’t twist left or right. His shoulders were forced down and back, shrugged tight against his body, and his arms were completely powerless. He could pull and heave to try and move his hands away from his back, but there was no escape.

You sat across from John once more, holding his chin up so that he would know you expected him to look at you, and you asked him,

“Do you have any pain or tingling?”

“No.”

“Say your safeword to me one time.”

“Red.” 

“The next step will be the final rope, and then we can sit together for as long as you need. Do you want to continue?”

His eyes stared into yours with a bright clarity, and he answered softly, 

“Yes.”

You could tell that he was slipping deeper into his sub-space. His eyes softened, but his body shivered. If you brushed your fingers along his ribs, his muscles would kick and jerk. Anything harder, like a deep tissue massage against those huge thighs and he whined for you, smokey and gravelly, full of feral need. 

You moved behind him, taking a rope and placing it across his forehead, using your hand to tilt his head back until his eyes were staring at the ceiling. Then, you carefully crafted a face harness, making sure there was not too much pressure on his more delicate bones while still limiting his range of motion so that he was forced to keep his chin pointed up. 

You connected the rig to an anchor point on his wrists, and then you took your position in front of him again, staring at his bearded jaw and injured neck, watching his body struggle to relax into a very uncomfortable pose. 

“Breathe for me, John,” you knew it was a lot. 

Controlling someone’s body was one thing. Even Price had experienced tight knots before, but when you took control over the head, that animal instinct all humans keep deep within themselves tended to come alive. It was a primal fear. You watched John’s chest rise and fall, his stress tumbling around in his breaths as he tried to stay calm. 

You reached out both of your hands and rested them on his chest, feeling the way he jerked at your touch, overstimulated and sensitive. You pet his fur, the thick brown hair that dusted his body, soft from the oils you had used. As he breathed, you felt it moving in his lungs, and you let your fingertips ghost over his nipples, rubbing them with the backs of your knuckles, admiring the way they perked up at your attention, puffy and swollen from the unforgiving rope that made them bulge outwardly.

“Mmf–fuck,” he coughed, his eyes knitted into a worried sort of agony.

You smiled, bringing your own nipples towards his chest, letting your soft peaks brush against his hard ones, moving your breasts up and down, drawing little circles and crosses over his chest. 

You knew he couldn’t see what you were doing, but he could feel it. He knew, instinctively, and it was sending him into a drunken daze. The pleasure of your touch combined with the pain of your ropes pushed him beyond where he had been before, and perhaps it was past where you had dared to go as well. 

“Control your breaths, John. There is nothing else you are responsible for. I’ve taken it all from you. You need to breathe and to spread your peace through your mind. Focus.”

He didn’t respond, but his breathing stilled, and his eyes closed. You removed your touch from him and let him bask in the sensations he was experiencing. 

Minutes passed, then more. It had been almost an hour, and you were admiring the way he stayed strong, at first. You reached out to him to anchor him when he seemed like he needed help, caressing his arms and back, massaging the muscles that must be burning white hot by now. He was much more determined than any other sub you controlled. If anyone could handle this difficult position, it was him. But, he was not invincible. You saw the way his breathing became labored, and his cock, which was losing and regaining its hardness as time went on, throbbed from its struggle. 

“Do you want to continue?” You asked again, touching him as you had before, moving your hands from his chest to his belly, petting him rhythmically, avoiding his phallus but touching everything else around it. You knew it must have been teasing him, forcing him to imagine how your hands might feel if they reached just a little further. 

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice strained due to the position of his jaw, and you watched the bulge in his neck bob up and down.

More time slipped by. Your hands had wandered down his legs and across the soft pads of his feet. His body was buzzing with the energy he was spending in order to stay the course. He must have been far beyond simple pain at this point. You remembered a similar scene you’d experienced, and this was much longer than you ever expected to be in it. If John was anything, he was stubborn. 

But eventually, you heard him speak, 

“We knew it was a trap before we went in. I was reckless, and angry, and I wanted my fuckin’ revenge.”

He paused but you just kept up with your massage, rubbing him down, letting him know you were still there. He continued,

“That bastard was gonna shoot me,” John’s voice cracked from his despair, and you saw shining tears stream down his temples and into his hair, “It was me that he wanted. Then, my… one of my men, he jumped right in front of the gun and took the bullet for me. I thought he was dead. I thought I was, too. But, after… I left my team. Charged in alone. I did things to those men that I'll have to think about for the rest of my bloody days. I became… something else. Something… “

You wiped the tears from his face, petting his cheeks, letting your thumbs brush over his lips gently. He sighed, and you could feel his breath on your fingers,

“It wasn’t right. I knew better, I just wanted them to bloody pay. Wasn’t sure if I was going home with a fuckin’ medal or my papers. Didn’t care.”

There was a long pause, and then, his voice became small. His eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, but they were wide, full of fear and uncertainty,

“Am I a monster? Is that… Is that the real me? Who am I? What am I?”

You leaned forward and planted delicate kisses across John’s stretched neck, licking and sucking at his skin in very light, careful touches, tasting his wounds and trying to heal them.

You sat back, removing yourself from his body, letting him sit alone for a moment before you said,

“You are a human being. You are capable of love and hate, pleasure and pain. You might feel like you need to answer for some of your violence, but your own humanity is not defined by your actions. You believed that was the path you needed to take. You destroyed dangerous men before they destroyed you. That is not a monster. A monster destroys the innocent. Were those men innocent?”

“No,” he snarled, full of spit and ire.

“They made their own choices. They controlled their own lives. Your perception of your own control is too broad, John. You couldn’t save them. They didn’t need saving. You did. It was you who needed to be saved.”

“I should’ve been able to stop… to stop… stop killing. I couldn’t. I needed them to burn for what they did to my fuckin’ soldier. To my friends! Fuck!” 

John was gasping now, too full of emotion to control his breath, releasing his stress in deep, bellowing grunts. You unfastened his head harness immediately, freeing him. The instant he could move, he let his head fall forward and placed his cheek on your breast, stretching himself as far as he could, hoping you would be there to catch him. 

And you were. You held him in your arms, wrapping your own across his many knots, feeling the fibers of his ties and the smooth warmth of his body, separate but unified. You could feel his wet cheek upon your skin, his anger rolling off of him in waves. He was letting out each breath as an exhaled hiss, the fire in his eyes at full peak, a blazing rage that seemed like it would suffocate him. 

You picked up his head in your hands, resting your forehead on his and told him, 

“Let it go. Just like that. Scream. Let it out of you, John. Forgive yourself.”

He let himself go for a moment, howling like a wild boar, full of unnatural rage and pain. You heard his shouts and tucked them away from your heart, keeping them for later, choosing to just let him express it and have his crashing waves of feeling wash over you, but you refused to drown in it. He still needed you. 

“Do you forgive me?” His plea was that of a boy, innocent and achingly pure. 

“I forgive you,” you replied without hesitation, “Forgive yourself, now.”

He shook his head back and forth, rubbing his face on yours, bitter and despondent, 

“I can’t…”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m telling you to,” you barked, grabbing him at the base of his skull by his hair, forcing his head back into that same bent position, holding him by force, “Trust me, John. Say it out loud. I forgive myself. Say it. C’mon.”

“I… forgive...” 

“C’mon. I know you can do this,” you used both hands to hold his head under your control, your chests pressed together, your breathing equal and ragged, both of you pulled to the end of your abilities.

“I forgive myself.”

“Again!” You gasped. You tugged at his nape, forcing him to arch his back with what little movement he still had access to.

He grunted in response, breathing heavy, each exhale a guttural shout,

“I forgive myself.”

“Good. So good. Let it out. Use the pain; let it wash you clean.”

You let his head come forward, and you saw a new man staring back at you. Before you knew what was happening, you felt your lips crash together with John’s, sliding along his mouth, tasting him and being tasted by him. His tongue slipped into the hollow of your palate, folding and twisting for more and more control, taking you into him as much as he could manage. Then, he pulled away abruptly, resting his forehead against yours again,

“I’m sorry. I just… I feel…” You watched him search for the words, “I feel like I’m back. It’s been so long, but I can feel myself again.”

“What do you need?”

“I need you,” he tilted his head, exhausted, sitting back on his heels, his face a serene picture of peace, “I need you to touch me, like this. Please.”

You looked at him for a moment and then moved your hands between his legs, finding his warm rod waiting to be held. As soon as your fingers touched him, his whole body convulsed, and he cried out at the sensation. 

You began to rub his shaft with long, slow strokes, avoiding his head for now, finding a nice, easy rhythm, encouraging John to match your breathing. He did, stealing kisses when your faces were near one another, and eventually, you were nose to nose, sharing your breaths again, listening to the rush of air and the wet slick sound of his tacky precome being spread all over his length. 

You reached behind him and grabbed another bolster, putting the soft pad behind his back. Slowly, you helped him lay down onto it, knowing his arms would be crushed by his weight, but making sure the stress was something he could stand. His legs were spread wide, fully pliant and open to you, and you sat between them, bringing your hands back to his center, working his curved shaft up and down, watching as his belly filled with air, expanding from his breaths, only to collapse again, the muscles within him clenching and releasing in an undulating pattern of lust and need.

“Oh, fuck,” he bit his lip, wrenching his eyes shut, “Please… I need… Bloody hell, I need you, love. Please.”

“Are you sure, John?” You tried to check in with him, ignoring your own desire to immediately fulfill his wish, your pussy swollen and dripping in anticipation. 

“Yes. I want you to take me. Please.”

His eyes looked up at you, his body bent and bowed, sweet and desperate for you, looking to you for his pleasure.

Carefully, you straddled him, feeding his head between your legs, sighing with joy as his tip slotted into the soft divot of your hole. He couldn’t thrust up into you. In fact, he couldn’t participate at all. You were the only one who could bring him pleasure or bring him pain, and that thought made your head rush, making you dizzy with desire, knowing that this man, a ruthless killer, mysterious and brutal, steady and kind, all of what he was — he was helpless beneath you. 

As you sank down onto his girthy tip, your body ached from the stretch. It was an effort to fit him inside of you, and you breathed through it, wanting to push yourself flush to his hips. When you met his warm root, you shared a loud moan together, the relief overwhelming you both. 

Then, you used your hips to make grinding, wide circles, churning his cock within your core, making yourself even more soaked, feeling your movements sending repeated signals to your cunt to make more and more slick come. It seemed endless, and it pooled out of you, matting his hair and drowning his dick in hot, sticky fluid. 

He was grunting softly at the apex of each circle of your hips, his voice hoarse and full of want. You heard him wanting more, wanting you to hump him up and down, to slide yourself along his cock from root to tip. But, you were in charge, and you set the pace. So, you continued, around and around and around in an impossible spiral, using your hands to play with his nipples, pinching them cruelly, positioning them under the tight rope to make them ache to be free. 

“Ungh, fuck! You’re fuckin’ soaked, love. Feels so bloody good.”

You smiled down at him, refusing to take his bait, knowing he was beyond ready for more. 

Sure enough, he began to beg you, his skin flushed and his heart beating hard from being edged by your grinding,

“Will you fuck me… please? Just… I need… fuck, I need more. Fuck me, please! Oh, fuck…”

“Shh. Be good for me, John. Trust me.” 

You stayed the course, rocking your hips around his base, never letting him thrust in and out, just winding yourself around him like a tight spool, pushing him to his breaking point. He felt so good inside of you, and his cock was so deep, you could feel the turgid body of his shaft if you pressed down on your lower belly, your fingers finding his outline through your skin and muscles and fat, your hands making indentions in your flesh, teasing him from the outside. 

“Cut me out,” he snarled, straining against his bindings hard enough to hurt himself.

You peered down at him, slowing your hips to a glacial pace,

“You know your safeword, John.”

“Cut. Me. Out.”

His eyes were vicious when he looked up at you now. He was like a hungry wolf; his gaze held within it a dark promise that — if you cut his leash — he would destroy you. 

On one hand, your body celebrated that realization. It was eager to be devoured by this monster of a man, but you had worked hard to control your primal urges, and you decided to put your hound back in his cage. You let your hand snake around his throat, squeezing where it was safest, digging in your nails for him to feel your threat more vividly, knowing it would hurt him against his healing wounds,

“If you want to stop, say the word.”

You waited, watching his tortured face, panting and wet from tears and sweat, but he remained silent. You licked your lips, 

“You came here for a lesson in self-control, and I am your teacher.”

For the next half hour, you made sure John Price understood who was in control of his pleasure. You sat on his cock, rocking back and forth until you felt his body tense up, and then you pulled yourself off of him, leaving his throbbing prick out in the cold, tapping at your ass cheeks, begging to be let back in. 

You ignored him, touching yourself with your fingers, using the chubby flesh of his lower belly to rub against your cunt, smearing your wetness all over him as you played in your hole. 

Then, you would put him back inside and start the process all over again, grinding and stopping, grinding and stopping, until your mighty sub was whimpering for release, his balls tight against his core, ready to flood you with his come at any moment. 

Finally, when you saw how fuck-drunk he was, coming in and out of consciousness like he’d been drugged, you decided to relieve him of his burden. You caught his eye and made sure he knew what was coming. Immediately, you had his full attention. He began to chant, hoarse and rasping under his breath,

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck…”

You let the anticipation build, slipping your pussy over his head in feather-light swipes, letting your folds tickle his cockhead mercilessly. Then, you began to bounce your hips on his cock. 

“Ungh– love, I’m —” he growled, his words breathless and broken, unbridled. 

“I want your come,” you confessed, getting lost in your own pleasure, “I want it in me… Deep. In. Me,” you changed your tone, tightening your grip on the nape of his neck as much as you dared, “And I’m going to take it from you.”

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, shining with fresh tears, overstimulated and raw. 

Then, you saw the relief smooth across his brow, and you waited for a breath before you felt it, spearing yourself on him to his hilt, plugging your cunt so that his come would be plugged up inside of you, filling your emptiest parts, making them warm and swollen with his spend. 

You felt him bursting inside of you, his girth stretching you every time he throbbed, spraying inside of you over and over, dumping his load into your soft hole. When you felt him finish, you began your grinding circles again, causing him to roll and twist, aching from the pleasure and pain. 

“Nngh… love, please… can’t… I can’t…” 

You yanked the slip tie out from under his shoulder, and suddenly, he had control of his arms again. You did the same to his legs, freeing him from your ties, ending his captivity. 

Like a flash, he erupted upwards toward you. His hands went to your hips, sitting up to hug himself around your body, crushing you to his chest and forcing you down into his lap, spearing you on his sensitive rod as if you had planned to pull him out. His mouth savaged your breasts, biting them cruelly, his fingers holding you tight enough to leave you bruised. 

You grabbed his face, holding his bristled cheeks in your hands again, bringing him up to kiss you. You pressed your lips to his as delicately as you could manage, trembling from your bliss. He kissed you back, and that’s all you did for what felt like an eon. Your mind swam through a blank, glittering cosmos, and the only thing that was real was the feeling of John’s mouth on your mouth and his sex on your sex, his hands on your body and your hands on his body, his pain and your pain, his love and your love. You and he were muddled together like pigments on a palette, jonquil and fuschia, no longer existing as one or the other and yet both smearing together, mixed and inseparable, ready to paint a bright, endless sun. 

You had melted, it seemed, under John’s sweating, heaving body. His ribs bullied into your belly every time he took a breath, and his cock had softened so that it slipped away from you. Your body ached for its comfort again, every nature-made part of you punishing you for losing it, coaxing you to do anything to get it back, to fill the space left vacant. You were tucked into his chest, folded and hiding beneath his chin, rubbing at the flat of his sternum with the back of your hand. 

His finger brushed a stray curl from your brow, touching your hair with respect, staring down at you in awe,

“My hero,” he purred. 

You smiled, kissing the stubble on his chin,

“Am I, now?”

“My head…” He stared up at the ceiling again, going to it for comfort like a long lost friend, “It’s so quiet. So clear. You’ve done that for me, and I’ll be thanking you for the rest of my days.”

“I’ll always be here for you, John. You are my muse in more ways than I’ll ever admit,” you laughed breathlessly, a little sad. It was bittersweet, falling in love with a man you couldn’t have. But, you found yourself in him and now you would need to work out how to live without that mirrored reflection. You felt linked to him, two unbroken cords looped together like Solomon’s seal, inseparable and yet laid on two disparate paths. 

“Don’t…” He said, his tone sounding even more sorrowful than yours.

You sat up on your elbow, bringing your face up to his to look at him, to see his emotions, 

“What?”

“Don’t make me hope.”

“What do you hope for?” Your voice fell into a whisper, your heart not having the strength to ask your question aloud.

He matched your tone, purring out his confession with a tired but cheeky grin,

“For a woman who can bring me to my knees,” then, his expression turned serious, and his eyes traced his finger as he played with the stray curl he had found, studying its winding path, “For a healer. Someone who can remind me of who I am. Everytime I stop to catch my breath, I’ve been hoping for you.”

Your heart stuttered, knowing that he was not a man to settle down in one place. You looked down at his chest rising and falling with his breath, matching your rhythm, unable to meet his eyes,

“How long can you stay?”

He put a thick finger under your chin, just as you had for him during his session, making you meet his gaze, 

“Let’s start with tonight…”

He planted a soft kiss on your left cheek.

“...then tomorrow…”

His lips kissed your right cheek, dragging hungrily across your skin, 

“...and all the tomorrows that you’ll give me. I’ll take them all, if you let me.”

John placed his final kiss on your open mouth, lips parted, concentrating on what he was saying. You smiled, kissing him back in earnest, 

“Tonight, then. And tomorrow.”

“And tomorrow,” he nodded, smiling brightly, rolling himself over you to shield you from the chill of the room, folding you into his darkness, safe, bound to him without a cord, knotted together without a bight, tangled for however long the strands would hold.

AO3 Link --- Thank you for the kudos!

[fandoms-x-reader]

Sensitive! MC

Requested By: @fairwish

Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064

This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3

Based on Lesson 6-15

You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.

You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.

You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.

And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.

They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.

They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.

In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.

You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.

But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.

-

You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.

You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.

“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.

“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.

“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly. 

“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed

You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.

“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.

“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.

You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.

“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.

That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.

“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.

“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.

“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.

“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.

Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did. 

You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.

They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.

Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.

He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.

He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.

After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.

He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.

Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.

It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised. 

He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.

He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.

But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.

It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.

After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.

Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.

He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.

So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.

When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.

He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.

But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.

The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.

But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.

He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.

He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.

Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.

Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.

He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.

So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.

Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.

Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.

He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.

But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.

The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.

And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.

Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst

On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.

His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.

When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.

He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.

Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.

Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt. 

But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.

He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.

Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.

And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.

Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.

For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.

He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.

For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside. 

In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.

But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.

He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.

He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.

He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.

You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world. 

Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.

“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.

“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity

“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.

Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.

He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.

“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.

It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.

Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.

Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.

As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?

He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.

He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.

But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different. 

And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.

He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.

His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.

When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.

He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.

You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said. 

You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.

“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.

Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.

You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.

He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.

In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.

More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.

And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.

Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.

Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.

He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.

You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.

He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.

And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.

Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.

He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.

As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.

He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.

When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.

Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.

In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”

You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.

He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.

“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones. 

“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.

His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.

You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.

[bluewolfangel01]

How the brothers make sure you're safe in the Devildom: Older Bros edition

Lucifer

Papa Luci mode activated

He has to know where you are or where you're going if you want to go out

It doesn't matter to him that you have 7 of the most powerful demons under your command or that you're training under humanity's most power sorcerer

You are required to have someone with you when traveling anywhere in the Devildom

If he doesn't know where you are, for some reason, he while be doing everything he can just to figure out your location

Of course he isn't going to panic just yet mind you, he'll first ask his brothers if they know where you are

Ex. he makes Levi track your phone or asks Mammon to locate you via crow familiar

If none of them know, then he's going to ask the dateables and side characters

And if they don't know?

He (and the everybody else of course) are going to tear the Devildom apart to make sure that you're okay

And if you are not? May Father have mercy on whoever dared to lay a finger on you cause Lucifer won't

If he starts getting on your nerves about always having to know a general area of where you are, don't hold it against him to much

He just doesn't want you to get hurt, cause if you were you'd have a very said and pissed off Luci on your hands

Mammon

Two words: Crow familiar

Around when you made a pact with him, he gave you a crow familiar

He claimed that it was to make sure he didn't have to deal with Lucifer's punishment if you ever died or even got hurt

Don't let him fool you, that man just wants to make sure you're safe cause he cares about you so much

He has so many crows he sadly can't keep track of ALL their names, so he let's you name yours

The crow will of course love you to bits and do things for you because of his connection to Mammon and cause you treat them so nice

Pls have some seeds on you, the crow will adore you even more if you do

Whenever your out the crow will follow and watch you from a distance or maybe even close by depending on how big the crowds are

If you're ever in trouble and can't handle it (or even if you can) the crow network is put into use to alert Mammon

The second he is told he drops whatever it is that he's doing and he's rushing to get to you no matter what

He'd take out the threat so fast, you blink and it's gone and in its place is Mammon

He's smiling at you and saying how he just so happened to be in the neighborhood

Whatever the threat was seems to have disappeared and Mammon leads you away saying how he wants to show you something he wants to buy nearby

But if you listen closely, you can hear a series of loud caws coming around the area you were just at

Simp

Levithan

Although he doesn't go out of his room much, that doesn't mean that he can't protect you from the outside

Like previously mentioned, there's a tracker on your phone (all the brothers have the same on theirs, don't feel bad)

The only reason he checks it is either because Lucifer asked him or it's been a bit since he's seen or talked to you and wants to know that you're okay

The other way he protects you is checking online and keeping a lookout for any potential threats or nefarious plans against you

He won't intervene unless said people seem to be very serious or actually putting their plan into motion

If such a plan is in motion, he warns the rest of his brothers

No matter what arises if he either ends up stopping or warning the others about there's always the same result

Anything they want online, somehow they can't find it anywhere

They want to simply look about the internet? They best be prepared for all the pop up adds and bugs imaginable

Levi is making sure they never even think about hurting you ever again

This turned out longer then I originally thought it would be.... I promise to write about the other brothers!

[queenariesofnarnia]

never underestimate the bunny

gif not mine!

wc: 642ish

Alastor x f!bunny!reader

warnings: tiny amount of violence, some verbal harassment( not from alastor), a wee bit of blood, and a mildly suggestive ending

🦌❤️ You were a sweetheart no doubt about it and none of your friend s doing out what landed you in hell. Especially as a bunny demon, everyone believed they had to protect you. Until one day you and Angel were out shopping.

“Toots you should get the red dress! it made ya smile sparkle” Angel told you as you tried on a new article of clothing. “Only if you get the matching black skirt with me!” you tell him laughing and he joins in. As you finished up shopping and began to stroll back to the hotel a group of sinners started pestering you. “Come here little bunny” one creep said “I bet you’d make a pretty little fuck toy” another yelled out. You grip your bags continuing on your way. Angel ignoring the thirst thrown his way since he was used to it. Until another one of them yelled at you. “Don’t be a bitch and let us breed you little bunny” the third one yelled. Huffing you place your bags in Angel’s hands. Your ear twitching in annoyance. “Angel be a doll and just head back. I’ll catch up” you instruct your friend. He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind but you gave him a nod of reassurance. You turn around facing the men before pulling a gun out your small purse shooting each man in their dick before pouncing on them ripping into them. Once you were through you placed your gun back in your purse turning away from the bodies to make your way back to the hotel. Angel witnessed it all, once you pulled your gun out he didn’t want to miss a chance to see you fight. “You got some blood on you toots” he gestures to your dress that was now stained. You shrug and laugh it off together. Making jokes about it until you walk through the doors. You receive a normal greeting from everyone until charlie screams. “You’re covered in blood!” she’s pointing at your dress. you just nod at her reaction. “Are you hurt?” Vaggie asked looking you over. “It’s not my blood” you tell them calmly. “Ya should’ve seen it.Cottontail here knows how to hold her own” Angel praises setting the bags by the couch before heading to the bar to bother Husk. He begins telling Husk the story as you head upstairs, you notice a shadow following you and don’t mind it until you get to your room. “You can come in but no telling Alastor if you see more than you should” you joke with the shadow. “Don’t tell me what cher?” the beautiful static voice reaches your ears as he appears in your room. “Well Alastor I was telling your shadows they may not inform you if they see more of me than they should.” you tell him with a smile. “Now my dear bunny, what is the fun in that hmmm?” he asks you stepping closer taking your appearance in. “Might I say you look like quite the dish covered in blood” he compliments his smile not leaving his face. “They probably would’ve tasted awful” you tell him jokingly. it made him genuinely laugh, it’s a rare sound you had the pleasure of hearing. “I’m sure you’re absolutely right my dear. I overheard our lovely spider friend telling dear ol’ Husker how you handled the scum who accosted you.” he steps closer to you caging you in between the dresser and his body. you are place your hands on his chest smiling up at him. “Your’e looking at me like I’m your next meal darling” your voice soft, the term of endearment slipping past your lips with ease. “With the way you look cher. You might be” he places a light kiss on your shoulder before giving you space. “Just say the word”

a/n: here’s pt 2 that no one asked for but i felt like doing :)

[cyberesc]

CAUGHT IN THE RAIN.

ft. Prohero!Midoriya x Prohero!Reader

˖⁺‧₊˚ tags & warnings: angst thoughts, reader is in a depressive state, fluff, hurt/comfort, pining izuku, soft izuku, he just wants the best for you, izuku still has OFA

The rain was relentless, pouring down heavily, soaking the streets of Musutafu as the sounds of city life carried on beneath it. It was late, the sun long gone, and while most people sought shelter from the storm, you sat on the ledge of a tall building, unmoving, drenched to the bone.

Your mask was clutched tightly in your hand, forgotten as you stared blankly at the streets below. You haven't felt like yourself lately. The constant pressure of being a hero, of saving people day in and day out, had started to weigh on you. It gnawed at your mind, chipping away at the version of yourself you thought you had control over. You were supposed to be strong, unshakable. But lately, it felt like you were barely holding yourself together.

You thought this spot, your usual hiding place, would bring you some sense of peace. It always had before. But tonight, the rain only amplified the emptiness you felt. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there, but it didn’t matter. The cold, the rain, none of it seemed to reach you. You were lost in your thoughts, in the fog that had clouded your mind.

"Y/N..."

The voice cut through the rain, gentle yet concerned. You didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but you recognized it instantly. Izuku. You hadn’t noticed him approach, but you weren’t surprised. He always had a way of finding you, of showing up when you needed him, even if you hadn’t asked.

“I was wondering where you went,” he said softly. Careful not to startle you, Izuku stepped closer, his boots splashing softly against the wet concrete of the rooftop. His heart raced as he watched you, sitting so close to the edge, so still, so... vulnerable.

You didn’t respond, just kept staring off into the streets, eyes distant and clouded. He was used to your silences lately, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less for him to see you like this. You could sense his worry growing the closer he got, but you were too numb to find the right words to reassure him.

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice softer this time as he crouched down next to you. He was cautious, not wanting to scare you or make you slip. He could see the tight grip you had on your mask, your knuckles white from the pressure.

The rain made it hard to tell, but as he got closer, he realized your eyes were red, swollen, and despite the rain washing down your face, he could see the tear tracks that lined your cheeks. His heart clenched at the sight, a wave of protectiveness surging through him.

He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew you were hurting.

“Hey…” he whispered, his hand reaching out slowly to grasp your utility belt. With a gentle tug, he pulled you closer to him, not hard enough to startle you, but firm enough that your body slid toward him, the slick ground making it easier for him to guide you away from the edge. He unconsciously positioned himself between you and the drop, making sure you couldn’t fall or slip, his instinct to protect you overriding everything else.

You didn’t resist. In fact, you didn’t say anything at all. You simply let him move you, your body limp, your gaze distant. And then, after a few moments of silence, you leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as the rain continued to pour down on both of you.

Izuku’s breath hitched at the contact, his heart skipping a beat. His first instinct was to ask if you were okay, to demand answers as to why you were sitting here, looking so lost and broken. But he didn’t. He knew better. Instead, he stayed quiet, letting the silence settle between you both, his hand coming up to rest gently on your back, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles.

He could feel the way your body trembled, whether from the cold or the emotions you were trying so hard to suppress, he wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. He was here. He would always be here.

His eyes traveled across your face, taking in the way your hair clung to your cheeks, the rain trailing down the bridge of your nose and dripping off your chin. Even now, even in the midst of your pain, he thought you were beautiful.

The rain hadn’t let up, and as much as Izuku wanted to stay like this with you forever, he knew you’d both end up sick if you didn’t get out of the storm soon. Clearing his throat, he shifted his arm around your waist.

“We should get out of the rain,” he said gently, tilting his head to look at you. “Before we both end up with a cold.”

You didn’t argue. You were too tired to protest and without another word, he carefully slipped his arms under your legs and around your back, lifting you into his arms with ease. The action was so swift, so effortless, that you barely registered what was happening until you were cradled against his chest.

“I’m taking you back to my place,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

Before you could argue, he activated Blackwhip, the tendrils of his quirk stretching out and securing around nearby buildings. He swung you both across the city, his movements precise and smooth despite the rain. You clung to him out of instinct, your fingers gripping his damp hero suit as he navigated the storm with ease. The city blurred beneath you, the wind whipping past as he carried you through the night, but all you could focus on was the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your ear, the way his arms held you so securely, as if he was afraid to let you go.

His apartment wasn’t far, and within minutes, he landed on the balcony. The warmth inside was a stark contrast to the cold rain that had soaked you both. He set you down gently on the couch, running a hand through his damp hair as he took in your drenched form.

You winced as you sat, guilt churning in your gut as you felt the fabric of the couch soaking the rain from your clothes. You’d been here when he bought this couch, helped him move in to his apartment with help from Ms. Midoriya and Bakugo. 

The sound of Izuku’s gloves hitting the coffee table with a wet smack brought you from your thoughts. 

“Stay here,” he murmured, disappearing for a moment before returning with a towel and dry clothes. If you could, you’d laugh at the way his oversized faded All Might shirt swallowed him up. He knelt in front of you, his movements careful as he draped the towel over your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently wiped away the rain that clung to your face.

You watched him through half-lidded eyes, your exhaustion evident. He was being so careful, so tender.

“Izuku,” you finally whispered, your voice hoarse from disuse. He paused, looking up at you with those wide, green eyes, so full of concern. “’m sorry.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you sorry for?”

“Worrying you,” you said, your voice barely audible. “For... being like this.”

His heart clenched at your words, and he shook his head, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to apologize for that.” He placed a hand on your knee, his thumb brushing back and forth in soothing motions.

Izuku was quiet for a long moment, glancing at you as you fiddled with the seams of the towel. Then, with a deep breath, he finally spoke.

“You know... I worry about you sometimes.” His voice was soft but steady.

You bit your lip, feeling the familiar sting of tears. He sighed, shaking his head. “Taking care of you is important to me, Y/N. You’re not a burden. Not to me.”

The sincerity in his voice broke through the walls you’d built up, and before you could stop yourself, the tears began to fall, mixing with the remnants of rain on your cheeks. Izuku was there in an instant, pulling you into his arms, holding you as the sobs wracked your body.

He didn’t say anything, just held you close, his hand running through your damp hair as he whispered reassurances in your ear. “It’s okay. I’m here. I got you.”

You buried your face in his chest, clinging to him as the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally spilled. The rain outside had softened to a drizzle, but inside his apartment, it felt warm, safe.

After a while, the sobs subsided, leaving you feeling drained but lighter. You pulled back slightly, wiping at your eyes, embarrassed by the mess you’d made. But Izuku just smiled softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I promise.”

You looked up at him, your heart beating against your ribcage as his eyes met yours. And before you could think, before the fear of ruining everything could take over, you leaned in, pressing your lips softly against his.

For a moment, time stopped. Izuku froze, his eyes wide in surprise, but it didn’t take long for him to melt into the kiss, his hand slipping around the back of your neck, holding you gently as he kissed you back with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, eyes still closed.

“Izuku... thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.

His cheeks flushed slightly, but his smile never wavered. “I’d do anything for you.”

© property of cyberesc 2024. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[etheries1015]

I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭

I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!

Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!

featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!

general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \

TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.

Leona

The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.

"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"

Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.

Ruggie

"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.

Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.

"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3

Jack

He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.

He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.

With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.

You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3

Azul

He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.

But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;

"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.

He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.

He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.

Jade

The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.

"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.

He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.

But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.

He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!

Floyd

Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.

You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.

"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.

Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.

The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.

"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...

He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.

Ya'll are so silly for each other <3

[bunnys-kisses]

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ i love dark!simon as much as the next rabbit... but what about loving!simon?

simon had always been weary of love. he thought most women wanted a cute boyfriend, not a bulky mass of a man with more scars than hairs on his head. he was the kind of man with odd sleep schedules, he was scary and unapproachable. he remembered a time a waitress at a restaurant tried to get her co-worker to take his order because she was afraid simon was going to hurt her.

but you saw something different. you saw how he'd lean down to your level, let you kiss across the exposed parts of his face. how he'd buy you flowers on fridays and made sure that none of them could harm your cat. he was also a good cat dad to the stray you took in. simon remarked that it seemed like you had a thing for taking in strays. you just smiled and said, "well, every animal deserves a good home." and later that night carded your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your lap. you think about delivered pizzas on tuesdays, and him trying to explain the 'complicated' nature of football (correct football).

"i'm sorry i can't be your knight in shining armor." he said with his face up against your middle, cuddling in bed. you replied, "si, i'm the furthest thing from a princess. plus, growing up i didn't care for disney movies." and the mean, terrifying solider just melted into you. simon loved you, you were what kept his heart from growing cold. you were the rays of light in the morning. being with you assured that idea that he was still human. still able to love.

and simon showed his love for you every chance he got. even in more intimate ways. sex between you two was hot, but it wasn't quick. simon mapped out each of your curves with his tongue, he made sure his girl came at least twice before his cock even got a taste of your pussy. your pleasure was his priority. and you in turn showered him in praise. kisses along his scars as you reached for his cock. it was a mutual affair, filled with an intense love.

he'd still if you made a pained noise and apologize for being too rough. his hands never left bruises on you, but you left nice hickies on his neck and shoulders. sometimes you'd be on top so you could control the pace and other times he'd have you on your back to gaze into your beautiful eyes as he moved against you. his cock was a bit of a stretch, but you made it work. even if he had to watch you play with your clit and finger yourself to get yourself nice and ready for him. and he'd eagerly watch, those brown eyes focused on your sopping wet pussy. his cock in his grasp, edging himself before he sank into your sweet sex.

afterwards, simon kept you in his arms. using his protective muscle to keep you safe. kisses on your warmed cheeks and asking if you need anything. his girl wouldn't go without. because he loved you. his entire life he had felt on the outside, like a monster. but as he held you to his side, he felt human. a human capable of a deep ever lasting love. you were his heartbeat, the rhythm that kept him alive. <3

[miley1442111]

safe- a.hotchner

--------------

--------------

summary: aaron had to make sure you're safe, can he get to you in time?

pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny! girlfriend! fem! reader

warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive mentions, angsty for a moment (I think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

--------------

Aaron ran through the crowd, the only thing on his mind was you. Were you hurt? Were you dead? Were you even in there? Could he help you? Could he get to you? 

Was he too late?

He could hear Derek shouting for him, pleading with him to slow down. He didn’t understand, none of them would ever understand. You had to be ok. You were his everything. He should’ve never fallen in love with you, it wasn’t right. You were Jack’s nanny. You’d been with them since Haley died. You’d supported them since Haley died. Then you turned into someone whoAaron loved being around, someone he trusted with his son’s life, and his own. Then he waited up for you on his nights off, when you had your nights off. Then you waited for him on late work nights. 

--------------

The door opening startled you, as it always did, but you just glanced to the hall and saw Aaron hanging his coat. 

“Evening,” you called to him. “Or should I say morning?”

He sighed. “Shouldn’t you be out? Isn’t Jack at a sleepover?” He smirked. 

“Not all young people only want to party,” you rolled your eyes, finishing up washing a dish and turning to him. “Hungry?”

“I can’t ask you to make me food-”

The nightly battle of getting him to eat something with nutritious value rather than old cereal while he looked over reports. “Nonsense. I have leftovers from Jack’s dinner, it’ll take me 10 minutes-” 

His hand on your waist stopped you from moving. “You’re here to take care of Jack, not me.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing his hand off. “I know, remembering that would be a lot easier if you could take care of yourself,” you huffed, moving to start cooking something for him. 

He sighed. “Y/n,” he scolded. 

You didn’t answer, and just continued. 

His hands circled your waist and you stilled. You felt his hot breath on your neck, and swallowed as the air became heavier, as the moment held more weight. 

“Aaron,” you whispered, slow and steady as it came out of your mouth. 

“No one ever takes care of you,” he said, a wolf-ish smirk on his face, one that you could definitely get used to. 

“You do,” you shrugged, trying to get back to the task at hand. 

“How? How would you like me to take care of you?” Aaron Hotchner was a man of iron-solid resolve, a man that couldn’t break under too much pressure, that wouldn’t break under too much pressure. But you? You were his undoing, you guided him through everything, knowing he was keeping you and Jack safe everyday made his days less unbearable. 

You chuckled lightly and turned around to face him. Then you pressed your lips to his. 

He could’ve sworn you tasted like heaven. Your hands running through his hair, his hands on your waist, his lips on yours. Nothing could’ve felt better. 

He pulled back and smiled. 

You smiled too. 

--------------

“Hotch!” Derek shouted, finally getting a hand on him. “Jack is out of there, he’s safe!”

Aaron turned to him briefly. “Y/n isn’t out, she’s not here, is she Derek?”

“Who’s Y/n?” He cursed several times under his breath. 

“His girlfriend,” you answered. You were banged up pretty badly, bruises and bleeding and dirt, but you were standing there. In front of him, you were real, you were alive. He opened his arms and you slumped into them. 

“I tried my best to keep Jack out of it, I don’t know where he is, I just told him to run-” you spoke quickly, but he quieted you with a kiss to your head. 

“He’s safe,” he promised. “You're safe too.”

You nodded, and buried your head in the crook of his neck as the team watched on in shock. 

Aaron wasn’t planning on answering any of their questions, all he wanted was to have you and Jack home and safe. Where he could protect you.

--------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[lure-of-writing]

His little Sister: I'm sorry

Summary: The mating bond between you and Azriel has been revealed and he isn't sure if any apology will ever make up for the hurt he has cause you.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none that I know of

Authors note: Guys I just got my nails done so if there is typos it's because I'm not used to typing with daggers on my hands. But anyways that's not what we're here for. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Azriel was screwed. Royally screwed. Even as the spymaster of the night court he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one unscathed. First and foremost there was you. You were the mosting important thing in this giant mess that your cousin just caused and making sure you were ok was his first priority. That is once you inevitably get all of the hurt and betrayal out of your system. He could feel your emotions barrelling down the bond and it damn near made him crumple under the weight of your hurt. Next on the list of casualties was Rhysand. And by the look on the high lord's face it was a mixture of pure unfiltered anger and the need to protect his little sister. Azriel can’t blame him, you look like you could either rip him to shreds and bawl your eyes out while doing so.

Rationally Azriel knew that Rhys would never really do anything to hurt him but the other part knew that Rhysand played dirty when it came to his family and it was some sort of unwritten rule that he would go to the end of the world to make sure you were ok. If Rhysand played dirty before he was about to get filthy now. This would not be the first time he stepped toe to toe against a high lord, specifically against Rhys, but this time would without a doubt be different. This time Rhysand would pocket away all of the years of their friendship and in turn he would fight Azriel like a traitor. He, without trying, had broken your heart and betrayed your trust. To Rhysand this was the ultimate act of betrayal. 

Only being one hundred years younger than your brother means all three males were also relatively young in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand held your tiny body against his. The three males had taken a break forming training in the mountains to visit you in Velaris. It wasn’t often Rhysand was allowed to leave the camps, much less often for Azriel and Cassian. But with the arrival of a new babe they had been permitted to leave. It became a tradition to visit the ever growing babe once a year. Somewhere in the chaos of training for the Blood Rite you had grown into a teenager. Cassian was sprawled out on one of the couches in the cabin and Azirel had taken his place in the chair that was unofficially deemed as his. There in a seat a little bit bigger than his own but yet still smaller than the couch Cassian claimed you were curled up against your older brother, peacefully sleeping.

Rhysand had always disliked the way things were run in the camps, oftentimes they made his blood boil but something changed in him the day you were born. Rhys knew from a young age that he would be a protector. A protector of his friends, his family, his people and his court. But he never knew that the most precious thing he would come to protect was you. He never wanted in the camps, walking amongst those who would take any opportunity to clip your wings or even kill you without a second thought. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to stop your visit as your father deemed it necessary. 

Silence was light in the room. Occasionally there was a pop or crackle from the fire, the sound of clothes shifting against the couch from Cassian and the light noise of you breathing. With a heavy sigh Rhys rubbed his face causing both males to look at their friend in confusion. “Something on your mind brother?” Cassian's deep voice filled the once quiet room.  For a moment nothing was said as Rhysand just looked deep into the fire before once again sighing and rubbing his face before throwing his head back to rest on the couch. “What if I’m not capable of protecting her?” The two males looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back on their friend. Everyone knew that the power Rhys possessed was quite frankly, insane, to put it simply. “Rhys, I think you're forgetting you are there, bud.” Once more Cassian's voice takes over the room. This time in a gentle laughter. “It’s not that I’m unaware of what I am capable of.” Rhys stops speaking as he looks down at your resting form laying against him. Gently he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in your face. “I know what I can do. What I am willing to do to keep her safe but I will not always be around to protect her and that is what I fear.”

“Being her brother is the greatest honor I have ever been given but what if I fail? What will it cost her? Just her being here possesses a threat to her life. Those males out there would not hesitate to clip her wings or flat out kill her. What happens when I am needed elsewhere and she is in trouble? Who will save her then? I know my mother is training her to fight but I never want her to be put in that position where she has to. Making sure she is safe, happy and loved is all I want for her. I never want her to experience the world we have endured.” 

Neither males have a sister but they do have the love of siblings for each other and they know the lengths they would go to for the other males. They may not know what it's like to have a sibling but they do know what it's like to love you. Since the day you were born they have done nothing but love and dote on you. If you tripped and fell and scraped your knees Cassian would scoop you up and cradle you until you stopped crying. Only then would he set you somewhere where he could properly clean the cuts littering your body and then take you for a treat to make you feel better. Azriel would help you with any of the boring assignments your mother would hand out. “I don’t even know what this means!” you would groan out in frustration before dramatically letting your head fall face first into the book. Luckly Az knew you very well. Without looking up from what he was doing he placed his hand palm up in the book and waited for the impact of your head against his hand. 

Finally once your head was in his hand, did he finally look up. “You may not understand it right now but eventually you will and you will be grateful your mother made you do this.” Groaning once more you left your head where it was. “Easy for you to say you're like a genius or something.” You grumble while Azriel lifts your head for you. Gently he pats the top of your head. “Maybe if you studied more you could be one too.” A mixture of a frustrated groan and sigh made its way through your lips causing Azriel to chuckle. 

It was safe to say that they understood what a light you are in the world. In their world. And each male would do anything to protect it. “You know we would protect her with our lives, right?” Cassian now sat up on the couch. This conversation was important. “We have known her since the day she was born. We have watched her grow and reach each millstone just like you have Rhys. We would never let anything happen to her. If it were my life or hers, I would happily give up mine. I’m sure Az feels the same way.” And Azriel did. “You don’t have to worry about her by yourself. We can share the worry Rhys. You know you can count on us. If anything ever happens to you, we will protect her just as fiercely as you do. You know that right?”  And Rhysand did in fact know that but there would always be some part of him that thinks only he will ever be able to do a good enough job at keeping you safe. 

Apparently Rhysand was right. Only he would protect you. Azriel had broken his promise and now he would pay. Next on his list of people to deal with was Morrigian. At the moment she was not a priority but eventually would be. First he needed to survive the night. 

If Azriel were to go back in time less than a week ago, he would have been more or less avoiding you. After his talk with Rhysand about the more interesting part of your relationship the shadowsinger thought it would be a good idea to give you some space, not wanting it to seem like he was trying to pursue something with you. Obviously that was the exact opposite of what he wanted but he was also keenly aware of your brother's disapproval of any male you chose to date. Azriel was sure he wouldn’t fare better than the others. On the other side Azriel truly had no idea how you would react to you being his mate and that terrified him. 

He hadn’t seen you much since the training incident with Cassian. As much as it bothered him to not be able to check on your healing himself he had Cassian right there basically giving me second by second updates. Which he did appreciate but since Cassian knew you were his brother's mate he was being a little over the top. Which is why Azriel was not expecting to see you on the rooftop for the daily morning training session. 

Az and his shadows watched from across the room as Cass ushered you back towards the house. That was until you saw him and course corrected to be right in front of him. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The hurt in your voice made him feel like a terrible person but he also couldn’t give you the real answer why. Not right now and definitely not right here. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He knew he was whispering but he also knew there were more listening ears then just yours, mainly Cassians. Azriel watched as Cassian scooped you up and walked back to where he was herding you, just moments before you veered off on your own. 

As the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court there wasn’t much, if anything, that made him nervous. The piercing stare of your gaze following his every move was definitely unsettling. But his male ego wouldn’t let him slip into that unflinching state of mind that he would usually find himself in when sparring. Now he was keenly aware of each move he was making while in front of you. His need to impress didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Thankfully Cassian decided to have mercy on his soul and let him get in a few good punches as his repayment for when Cassian did the same to him while in front of Nesta. 

The daily sparring session was over sooner and also later then he wanted it to be. One part of him wanted to continue to impress you, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you were even impressed in the first place. The other part of him just really wants to get the awaiting conversation over with. Azriel headed over the bench where his long forgotten shirt and water bottle had been previously placed. He had barely gotten in one drink of water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” It was the same question that you had previously asked him before being dragged away by Cassian. And yet this time it made him even more nervous then the first time you had asked him. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was make you feel like he didn’t want to be around you. Even before the bond he wanted to be around you every chance he could get and you knew that. He needed a reason you would believe. A downfall that came with spending all of his spare time with you is that you were able to tell when he was lying better than anyone else in the inner circle. There was only one thing he could tell you that wasn’t the full truth nor a complete lie. Rhys wasn’t a fan of the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of us and he needed to step back in respect for Rhysand. 

Thankfully the mother was on his side that morning because you believed him. 

Opening up his arms in a form of some peace offering he’s quickly wrapped in your arms. Even though hugging anyone who was sweaty was something that he knew drove you crazy you did it anyways and it warmed his heart. But watching you place your chin on top of his chest just about made his heart melt. He prayed that you wouldn’t be able to feel or hear just how fast his heart is beating, and it is not from the training. 

Oh how Azriel wished he could go back in time to just a few days ago. Hell he would even go back to when he was avoiding you. Truthfully anything would be better than what was currently unraveling in front of him. 

“How long have you known?” Azriel tore his eyes away from Morr to look at you. The look of heartbreak that painted your face was like a suckerpunch to his gut. He took a sharp breath in. You were always stunning in Azriels eyes but looking at you now was like looking like a fallen angel. As much as the poetic beauty was undeniable he also never wanted to see that look on your face again. He would do anything to make you trust him again. 

“I-” Azriel didn’t realize just how dry his throat was until he tried speaking. Actually now that he was focused on his body he was pretty sure he felt like he was going to throw up. Swallowing he takes another deep breath. A quick glance to his right reveals Rhysand with a raised eyebrow and barely contained anger. “I’ve known since the war.” Azriel always imagined this moment would be very different. Just the two of you in private. And it would finally feel like a brick being lifted off of his chest. 

But watching your reaction to his confession felt like the opposite. He watched as you blew out a heavy breath and grabbed the back of Morrigians chair for support. Looking at the look he watches a tear finally free itself and makes its way to the ground. Just as quickly as the first tear had fallen the rest had also followed suit. He watches as you shake your head and look at your brother for the answer of what you are supposed to do. The dining room had never been as quiet as it was in these waking moments and Azriel despised it. Even if he was the cause of it. “You’ve known for almost a year and you never told me?” The spymaster watched as you fought against the lump in your throat only for your voice to crack on the last word. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me continue to dream about the love I desired. Let me think I was never going to get the love Rhys and Fey have? You’ve known for months!”  Azriel sat unmoving as your betrayal turned to sadness and then anger. You had never raised your voice and yelled at him before but he knew he deserved every ounce of anger you threw at him. “You-you out of all people knew how I felt about mates and yet you held this from me. My mate! I-I-I -oh my god.” Time seemed to slow down in that moment as he watched you grab your chest in pain then collapse to the floor. He felt himself rise. Azriel wasn’t sure why, was it to move to the other side of the table and comfort you? Was it in shock? Fear for your breaking heart? He wasn’t sure. It was like slow motion as Mor swiftly twisted out of her seat and caught your limp body on the way down to the floor. Together the two females sat on the floor. Morrigian had wrapped her arms around your body and held you pressed against her chest as you sobbed. 

“Azriel!” That was the commanding voice of a high lord. The force of which Rhysand said his name and allowed his power to wash over him was the only thing capable of pulling his focus off of your crumpled body. Looking back to his right he notes that Rhysand has pushed the chair he was previously sitting in far behind him. It didn’t go unnoticed how Feyre made her way to you with urgency. The primal anger and need to protect his family also didn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. He was about to get his ass beat. If not altogether killed. Rhysand may have been mad at Cassian for hurting you but he did go easy on him, even if it resulted in a few nasty bruises littering his body. Azriel knew for sure this would be nothing like that time. Rhysand had a look of death in his eyes and Azriel was sure death was waiting to greet him. 

“Uh oh. Yeah you guys may want to get out of here it's about to get ugly.” Cassian also stood from where he was once seated and began stretching. Noting Feyres' worry Cassian continued “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt each other too much.” He paused, “Well I won’t let them kill each other.” 

Only after everyone except Mor and Cassian had winnowed away his Rhysand lunge at Azriel. 

Ever since learning that you were his mate one of his shadows followed you religiously. He never even told them to do that, it was just something they did naturally. His shadows always were ones to keep an eye on you even if you were completely safe. 

That's how he found himself in front of the river house. His shadows danced around him in warning of the two females sitting in the living room still awake at this hour. Without looking at a clock Azriel would assume it was around three in the morning. Gently he pushes the hard oak door open only closing it after allowing himself inside the quiet house.  Azriel knew he could make his way to your room without either one of the females knowing but he assumed it was better to get everything that could tear him apart over with while he was down. 

“I feel bad for her. I know what it's like when the other person knows they're your mate and you're left in the dark. But this is something else. If Mor hadn’t said anything would he?” He could hear the voice of his concerned high lady. “Do we know if she even still has a mate? Rhysand looked like he was going to kill him.” Nestas' voice that usually dripped in sarcasm was dry as bone. Stepping into the room he made his footsteps louder than he would ever step to announce his presence. A sharp gasp was the only noise that Feyre made as she brought her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my gods” The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor pulls his gaze from the spot on the floor he found particularly interesting to see Feyre making her way over to him. Over her shoulder he could see Nesta taking inventory of the damage Rhysand caused. “Are you ok?” He shrugs off her question but allows her gentle hands to move his head from side to side.

“How is she?” Everybody knew who he was talking about. Feyre led him to the couch ushering him to sit down as Nesta answered “As well as you can expect.” Feyre had stepped out of the room to grab a pain relieving tonic “She just fell asleep a few minutes before you got here” she pushes the vial into his hands “Drink” she insists. “I never meant for it to go like this. For it to get this far without me telling her. I just was waiting for her to feel it herself but then I just kept waiting and waiting and waiting and the next thing I knew I was sitting at that table listening to Mor tell her. I promise I never meant to hurt her. You know that right? You have to believe me.” The constant throbbing throughout his body finally forced him to drink the tonic in hopes it could even touch the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure you never meant for this to happen az. But why didn’t you just tell her. Anyone with eyes could see that she already had feelings for you.’’

“I wanted it to be her choice. I would never force her to accept the bond. All I want is for her to be happy no matter what.” A heavy sigh fell from both females before the peaceful silence filled the room. Nesta was the first to leave in hopes of getting at least an hour of sleep before she needed to be awake for training. With a gentle squeeze of his arm Feyre stands above him “I Believe you Az. But you need to understand how hurt she is currently feeling.” looking up he sees not his high lady or Rhysands mate but a concerned friend. “I know I can feel it through the bond.” Feyre smiles sadly before stopping in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go be with her Az. You both need it.”

The warmth of the fire was the first thing Azriel noticed upon entering your room. Although fae ran warmer than humans you were the rare exception. Unless absorbing heat from the sun or another person you were on average at least ten degrees colder than anyone else. A small smile found its away to his face to see the fire going. His own personal relationship with fire may be nonexistent but for you he would endure it a hundred times over. The next thing he noticed was your sniffling and quiet sobs. In three large strides he was kneeing besides your bed. “Y/n” you name was like a whisper of a prayer in a silent coven meant for worship. He watched as your eyes opened to meet his and listened as a sob racked your body. “I am so sorry baby” Quickly he raised from where he was previously knelt on the floor and climbed into bed with you. The move to place your body on top of his was easy but listening to the silent cries of your heart breaking wasn’t. “I never meant to hurt you I swear.” 

Eventually the tears raining upon his chest and was replaced with the gentle breathing of your sleeping form. Azriel knew he should sleep but he couldn’t help but admire every part of you just in case this was the last time he  got to hold you like this. That's why he wasn’t startled when Rhysand barged into your room, startling you awake. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” He promised. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of your brother as you raised to sit in between his legs. Rhysand could do whatever he wished but Azriel wouldn’t leave without making sure you were ok first. “Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him, but Azriel is my mate.” The bond had never sung in happiness like it did basking in the warmth of your acknowledgement.

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