#Sorry to drag everyone into this - it has just been weighing heavily on me since I got that ask

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Actually, you know what.

To the anon who asked me to tag stuff when I mention God or Christianity so you could block it, I’m sorry I gave a noncommittal answer, you deserve an actual answer. It was like 2am and I was tired and felt uncomfortable with the ask but am a people pleaser so I didn’t want to argue. (Still don’t want to argue, I’m just stating my actual answer instead of the wishy washy one I gave you.)

I don’t really reblog things about Christianity. This is my main blog but it’s primarily packaged as a Zelda blog. If I bring up Christianity or God, it’s just me talking about things going on in my life, or asking for help, or sharing my love and joy with others here. Maybe occasionally something in writing, because I’m allowed to share who I am and what brings me joy as much as anyone else. And if I write a story that is entirely referencing Christianity, then I probably would tag it! More importantly, though, asking me to tag everything that I mention God in so you can block them makes me feel uncomfortable because asking me to help you avoid God goes against everything I am. I’m not trying to downplay your experiences, I truly am sorry you were hurt by someone(s) who claimed to be Christian. But I’m not going to do something that makes me equally uncomfortable. If that bothers you, then please feel free to do what you think is best.

[cazimagines]

Every day, it feels like I've lost them again

Synopsis: Sam shouts at Zemo for the things he has done. Though Zemo doesn’t show it the words hurt him deeply. Later on the reader finds Zemo and talks to him about his past.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Bit of angst, Sad Zemo, mentions to his family’s death and his attempted suicide

Author note: I had plans for another Zemo one shot but then I watched a sad Zemo edit which made me cry and here we are

Cross posted on my Ao3 account under the same name

MASTER LIST

The streets seemed silent as you sadly walked home. The only sound was your footsteps dragging along the floor. The silence between all of you was piercing. Today had been an enormous failure, and you all were feeling it weighing down on you. Pushing down your hopes for things to improve. Zemo had somehow found out where the flag smashers would be, from a trusted source, he said, so you all went charging off to talk to them. It was a trap. Zemo didn’t know it was a trap either, though Sam still believed otherwise. You all had barely got out of there safely. It had been close, too close for your liking.

“There’s always tomorrow,” Zemo says, hating the stone cold silence coming from everyone.

“But there’s not,” Sam spits back angrily, “That was the one proper chance we could've had to talk to Kali, and we failed”

“You shouldn’t be so pessimistic,” Zemo argues back, rolling his eyes.

“Pessimistic. Are you for serious, pessimistic,” Sam says shaking his head at Zemo, “You hear this guy I’m the pessimistic one”

“Leave it Sam” Bucky mutters trying to push him along, but Sam refuses.

Sam steps towards Zemo, standing just a few centimeters away from his face, his eyes glaring daggers at him. Zemo stops walking, clenching his jaw and tilting his head to stare back at Sam, not breaking eye contact.

Both you and Bucky glance at each other, not really sure if you should stop this or let it happen.

“You could have led us to our deaths today, Zemo, which I am sure was your intention. You make it clear that you wouldn’t hesitate to see any of us off to our funerals. All because you got butt hurt about the avengers preventing Ultron from destroying the earth at the cost of your country.”

The breath leaves your mouth as the words slip out of Sam’s mouth. Your lips, slightly ajar, turn to look at Sam. He’s breathing heavily, glaring at Zemo. Zemo’s lips curled down into an angry frown and his eyebrows furrowed. You could see his fists curl up, something Bucky must have noticed as well, and he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder to pull him away from Zemo.

“Sam this isn’t the time”

Sam finally gives in and pulls back, but Zemo steps forward, grabbing onto his jacket. Bucky reaches for his gun, but Zemo waves his hand at him, motioning him not to.

“You don’t know the first thing about me, Sam.” is all he says, letting go of Sam’s jacket roughly and storming off.

It would be hours later till you saw him again. During that time your mind was often thinking back to Zemo. When you really thought about it, you realised you knew nothing about him. Heck, until recently you didn’t know he was a Baron. All you had been told was that he was a Sokovian who wanted to split the avengers up because of what they did to his country. Being a Baron, you supposed that made it more personal for him. Still, it felt like something was missing. Something didn’t add up.

You laid in one of the many guest rooms tossing and turning while all these thoughts flooded your mind. Eventually you gave up on the idea of ever getting sleep tonight and got up. If you weren’t sleeping, you might as well get some midnight snacks. Heading into the main room, you notice the door leading to the back was open, letting a chilly breeze float in.

Heading over to check it out, your eyes lie upon Zemo sitting on top of a fallen over tree trunk in the back patio, looking up at the night sky. His coat was wrapped around him to keep him warm, and his face was expressionless as he looked up to the night sky that was scattered with the stars. He hadn’t noticed you staring at him, his mind was far from where his body was.

After a few moments of just staring at him, you broke the silence, “Zemo?”

His head instantly snapped to you, surprised to have been caught unaware.

“Oh, hello y/n, can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, taking his question as an invitation to go over and sit next to him, “No, to many thoughts in my mind to go to sleep”

“Ah, a common problem for an insomniac”

“I assume you have similar reasons, since you are out hear”

He looks away from you, smiling weakly at the floor, “Yes something like that, sleep comes rarely to me”

Your eyes flutter down to the ground, not really sure what to say, “I’m sorry to hear that” you whisper

You both sit there in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t an awkward silence like what you were used to. No. It was a comfortable silence. You were both thankful just to have someone beside you at that moment. You shudder slightly as the wind picks up, making the hairs on your arm stand up. Zemo notices and slowly shrugs off his coat, placing it around you. You smile politely up at him in thanks.

“May I ask what your thoughts were?” Zemo asks gently, glancing back over to you

“You probably think it was about our failure, right?” you say and Zemo nods his head slightly

“They weren’t, actually. I didn’t suspect us to accomplish anything. It seemed to good to be true. No, I was thinking about what happened after. Between you and Sam”

Zemo’s face instantly shifted, his mouth pulling into a frown and his eyebrows furrowing, “Ah” is all he says

“What Sam said was way out of line. I can’t understand the pain you must feel about losing Sokovia”

Zemo hums to let you know he heard but doesn’t say anymore, his gaze just returns to the sky.

You didn’t want to push him too far. Over this time you had gotten to know him and almost considered him a friend, but you couldn’t help but be curious. You wanted to know more about him.

“But there’s more isn’t there. Something we don’t know,” you say gently

You can see him swallow and his fingers dig into his palms as he tenses at your question.

After a moment he finally responds, “Yes, you’re right. I... I had a family who died that day. My father, wife and child. I told them to go out of the city to the countryside. That was where my father lived, you see. I had to stay behind as I was a part of this Sokovian kill squad. Even as royalty, I still had duties. I had faith in the avengers. They would sort everything out. But they didn’t. When the battle was one they just returned home, leaving us with the hard task of finding all the dead. I assumed my family would be safe, yet it took me two days after to find their bodies.”

Your body gets overwhelmed with coldness as you hear his story. The memories of the battle flooded your mind and you could feel a bitterness creep into your mouth. You could have stayed behind to help. Why didn’t you? Your eyes water slightly as you sympathise with him and feel the guilt lie on your soul.

“Oh god Zemo, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked,” you are quick to respond

“No...it’s okay. If I didn’t want to tell you, I wouldn’t have said anything”

You look up to the night sky and reflect over his words. All the pain that Zemo must feel, holding onto, and you did not know. None of you did. You were sure if Sam knew he wouldn’t have said the things he did. You knew what Zemo did was wrong, but damn you couldn’t help but empathise with him.

“If you want…” you start, hoping what you were choosing to ask wouldn’t be going too far, “would you like to tell me about them?”

Zemo finally looks away from the sky, his eyes looking to the ground. He swallows again, slightly sniffing before speaking.

“My Son, Carl, he was four when he... when he died. He always did this cute thing where if he didn’t like the food on his plate he would pretend he was gifting the food to you to show his love for you”

You chuckle slightly thinking about it, “That does sounds cute”

“He was the most precious thing in existence. He always wanted a sibling like his friends had. He loved the idea of being an older brother. Every morning when the mail arrived, he asked if he had a brother or sister delivered to him. Me and my wife… we were planning on having more kids. We knew he would've made the best big brother. We hoped for a girl, you know, to even things out”

“What was she like?”

“She was so beautiful. Like the goddess Venus. Many men tried to win her affection, but she settled for me. I had never felt like a luckier man. She was so kind, so generous, so loving. My perfect angel”

The tears that had been threatening to fall from Zemo’s eyes broke the dam and fell down his cheeks.

“If I could, I would give up everything I have, everything I own just to hold them in my arms again”

A sob breaks out of him and he holds his hand up to his mouth as his eyes crinkle up as more tears fall. He tries to wipe them away, but he can’t stop crying. You put your arm around him and pull him into a hug which he gladly accepts. He wraps his arms around you and buries his head into your shoulder as he sobs.

“I miss them so much”

You say nothing, just rub your hand on his back reassuringly. He takes a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I tried to end my life after I completed my revenge. So I didn’t have to live another day without them. But I failed. I spent the next seven years without them. And everyday it feels like I’ve lost them again,”

“What do you plan to do… after we have finished here?”

You can feel Zemo’s body tenses in your arms as you ask that question, “I think you know, y/n”

You pull back from him to look into his blood-shot eyes. “Zemo, I know this is so very hard for you, but please don’t. I know with your wit and cunning you can think of a way to escape all of this safely. I will not pretend to know your wife, but if she is anything like what you have told me about, I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to either. She would want you to find some happiness in life,”

Zemo finally moves away from you, standing up off the tree log and taking one last look at the sky before then looking back at you. He’d stopped crying by now but the tear stained cheek and dark under eyes were evidence of what had just occurred. The side of his lip tried to twitch up into a slight smile but it faltered,

“Thank you, y/n”

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @jayxkelsi @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik

[starrynite7114]

always you (angel reyes)

A/N: Good morning everyone! I know I haven’t posted in a while, and you all know why. Thank you all again for being very understanding, it was a rough couple of weeks, and I’m trying to push through the best I can. This story was supposed to be a one shot for a prompt request I received some time ago, but I’m glad I’m able to finally fulfill it. I wrote out most of it already so it should be posted every 2-3 days. I’m also finishing up Roommates this week, at least trying to! 

Hope you all have been having a good week thus far! Hopefully it is also warming up! Exams have been killing me, but my last one is later today, so yay!

The new Mayans trailer looked amazing! Definitely getting the creative juices flowing, even for EZ. 

Anyways, thank you all again, you are all the utter best!

Special shoutout: To @blackmissfrizzle​, you fucking crazy, violent person, my second brain. Because of you, I got a Tiktok guy on here. But thank you for listening to my crazy ideas about this story, a story that was supposed to be a one-shot turned into a series cause of all of those videos, love you though. And to @angelreyesgirl​ you’re the one who helped me figure out as to why certain things happen in the story, thank you, I just, I love you, you already know this, no more sappiness from me today, maybe. Also, happy birthday!

Groupchat for updates! Please join since the tags could be a bit iffy at times!

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! My tag list is a little messy, but please let me know if you want to be added!

Masterlist

Word count: 8657

Warnings: Mentions of stalker behavior, angst, smut

169: “ What a pretty sight. ”

187: “ Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you? ”

You sighed, the knocks on the door following the call you just received from Coco made you want to pull your hair out. This has been ongoing since you two broke up two years ago. It was routine at this point and you were slightly getting tired of it. He chose to let you go and here you were opening your door so Angel could spend the night after a drunken stupor. 

“Sorry again hermana, you know I try to bring his big ass home, but you know how stubborn he is.” Coco assisted Angel inside your apartment with Gilly helping him out. 

They assisted Angel down to your couch, he was barely conscious. He had this obnoxious smile on his face as he settled on your couch.

“Where’s my girl?” Angel called out as he grabbed a pillow, resting his head. 

Gilly looked up at you and you shook your head. “She’s asleep bro, just go sleep.”

“Okay, I’ll go to her.” Angel attempted to stand up, but Gilly held him down.

“Hey, remember, you don’t like bothering her when she’s asleep.” Gilly reminded Angel.

“You’re right, I just want to tell her I love her.” Angel laid back down, his eyes closing.

Before long, Angel’s soft snores indicated to you all he was asleep. Coco looked at you as you looked at Angel, confused as always as to why he had to come to you whenever he was drunk. They’ve tried asking him, both Coco and Gilly, and whenever you saw him in the morning, you just gave him coffee and chose not to talk to him. He tried to make small talk with you, but you didn’t entertain it.

Angel chose to break up with you two years ago, your year and a half relationship down the drain. You didn’t fight him when he ended your relationship. You accepted it and attempted to move on. 

Problem was, Angel didn’t let you go. His presence was still felt even though you didn’t see him. Then three months after your breakup, the drunken visits came. At times, he would talk to you when he would come drunk, but you chose to ignore it and just took care of him.

You wanted to turn him away, but you love Angel. It was hard not to do so. Whenever you would think you had the courage to turn him away, you would let him back in your bed just so you could hold him. It was unfair to you, you wanted to move on, yet, when you had the chance to hold him, you never passed it up. You were addicted and you would break the habit eventually, but Angel was just, well, he was Angel. 

“Y/N, we can take him home if you want.” Coco hated doing this to you. He was there from the beginning and he didn’t want to keep dragging you back in Angel’s life. He knew how hard you were trying to move on, but it seemed like Angel held on.

“No, it’s okay Coco, just let him sleep.” You pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose, sighing as you draped a throw blanket over Angel. 

“We can stay if you want.” Gilly offered. Much like Coco, he felt for you. You were a sweet girl, always nice to the boys and never made a fuss when Angel chose to break dates to hang out with them. For him, you were the ideal girl, you were reasonable, beautiful, and a hell of a cook. When Angel broke up with you, they planned to keep in touch, bug you every once in a while for dinner. But then they realized, Angel had no plans of letting you go either. 

You chuckled and shook your head. “It’s fine, I’m sure you guys want a break from this guy.”

“We do, we really do.” Gilly agreed. “But we want to be here for you too, why did we bring him here man?”

“You gonna try to argue with Angel? He’s fucking unreasonable when he’s sober, it’s another thing when Don Quixote over here is drunk.” Coco shook his head. “If you need anything, just call me.”

“Call us.”

You nodded your head. You gave the two Mayans a hug before closing the door behind them. When you turned back, you gasped when you found Angel standing.

“Let’s go sleep?” His eyes were opening and closing and he was slightly swaying. You took one of his arms and led him to your room.

This was how it always ended. Regardless if you put Angel in your guest bedroom or the couch, he always ended in your bed. 

You assisted him on your bed, going back to close your door. Angel took off his clothes, leaving him in just his boxers. “I love you.”

Your heart clenched hearing him say that. He always told you he loves you. Without a fail, he always did, when he was visiting you intoxicated. Yet, you never felt it, especially with the way things ended. And he never said it when you were together. You did, and that’s when things went downhill for you two. Holding on to the doorknob, you tried to stop the tears from coming. Angel was watching you, waiting for you to come join him on your bed. He just wanted to hold you. 

“You coming?”

You nodded your head and went to your side of the bed as Angel scooted up to his. Moving the blanket, you two settled under the blanket and Angel pulled you flush against him. He caressed your face, before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

Looking up at him, he was looking down at you, he was caressing your face again.

“What a pretty sight.” He sighed.

Your head rested on his chest and you eventually heard his breathing even out. You’re not sure how much more you could take of this. 

You had to move on.

It was time.

The next morning, you hoped it’s one of the days that Angel left while you were asleep. And he did, which you were thankful for. It was always awkward when Angel was still here when you woke up. Rolling over to the side, you sat up, slipping your glasses back on. Yawning, you checked your phone and had a few messages from Coco and Gilly, one from EZ.

Choosing to reply later, you placed your phone back on your dresser and stood up. Stretching as you let out a yawn, you walked out of your room and froze when you heard movement in your kitchen. Rushing back in your room to get the bat you had for protection, you made your way back towards the kitchen, peaking in and found Angel. You contemplated pretending to go back to sleep, but Angel’s voice stopped you.

“Don’t even think about pretending to go back to sleep, I made you breakfast and you have work in an hour and a half.” Angel called out.

You sighed. Placing your bat at its spot in your room, you go to the kitchen and found Angel making a plate. He handed you the plate and you murmured a thank you. Sitting at the dining table, you made sure to sit on the other side since the two chairs beside you were full of presents you have yet to wrap for Christmas. You still had time, but your dining table was basically full.

Angel smirked when he saw where you were situated. You acted as if he wasn’t with you for four years. He placed his plate down at the other end of the table. Moving your stuff to your coffee table, you opened your mouth to protest, but Angel already placed the presents down.

“You don’t have to move them, there’s plenty of room.” You protested.

“Away from you, yes. But I want to sit next to you.” Angel moved his plate and sat beside you. He shot you a smile before picking up his fork. “Come on, eat up.”

“Angel, this really isn’t necessary. I can just grab something on my way to work.” You didn’t like spending time with Angel, especially in this way since it still struck a chord with you. The familiarity of it was a painful memory of what was let go two years ago. 

“It would be rude for you to not eat after I made your favorite.” Angel knew you couldn’t resist a good omelette filled with spinach, bacon, sausage and cheese. “Please, let me do this for you, you did me a solid, again.”

Picking up your fork, you began eating. Letting the silence enveloped between you two. This was better. You didn’t want to talk to Angel. You didn’t want any thank you’s or apologies, you just wanted him to go so you could pretend that the other didn’t exist again.

Angel watched as you ate, keeping your eyes on your food. He hated how he did this to you, how you couldn’t even look at him. Every time he became highly intoxicated, Angel refused to go anywhere but your place, since it’s when he needed you most. Angel hardly drank himself to a stupor, but when he did, he was mostly troubled and was trying to forget the issues that were weighing heavily on him. Even though it’s been two years, you were one of those issues. He saw you around town often and it hurt him whenever he did. You were so close yet so far away. He knew that Coco and Gilly hang out with you every once in a while. Every day, it was a struggle for him to not see you, talk to you, hold you and be with you. 

So he came up with this ridiculous plan after you accepted him into your home one night after he got drunk. 

Whenever missing you became too unbearable, he got wasted and refused to go anywhere but your place. He was always aware enough to know he would be brought to you. And once he was with you, you would take care of him. He felt somewhat bad, but he didn’t know how else to approach you.

“Are you busy tonight?” Angel broke the silence between you two.

“What?” You had to make sure you heard him correctly. Looking over at Angel, he was waiting for you to reply. “I have a dinner thing.” A lie, and you were almost sure Angel could see right through it, but you didn’t want to think that. You could pull this off.

“A dinner thing?” Angel raised an eyebrow, amused by your choice of words. “Sounds like a fake thing.”

“Doesn’t matter to me if you believe me or not, I have plans.” You had finished your food. Picking up your plate, you placed it in the sink and turned to face Angel who was still sitting down. “Don’t worry about the dishes, I can do them. Also, I’m not really sure why you always decide to keep coming to my place when you get drunk, but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t come here anymore.” Your best friend, Marie had advised you to create boundaries, to tell Angel that you no longer want him coming over whenever he was intoxicated. 

That it was time for you both to stay away from one another like you intended to do so when he broke up with you.

“Querida.” Angel stood up, but you shook your head, holding your hand up.

“You wanted to break up, we’re done Angel. As much as I want to be there for you, I can’t keep doing this and hurting myself. You chose to let me go, so go.” You left the kitchen and entered your room, locking the door. 

Angel watched as you walked away, telling himself to run after you, but he couldn’t. He’ll let you walk away for now, but after you put such a decisive end to this whole thing, he couldn’t just let go. It may be selfish, but living without you for the past two years further opened his eyes.

He wanted to be with you and just you. 

It’s always been you.

=================

A month without any incident with Angel. You're glad he has finally decided to leave you alone. Coco had texted you a few times expressing that he was proud of you about putting your foot down with Angel. EZ has been frequenting the library more as of late, and he’s either had Marie with him, his girlfriend, or he came by himself. 

A new year and new decade ushered in a new era for you.

You caught EZ coming in, a smile appearing on your face.

“We got that book you’ve been waiting for, I saved you the copy since it was the only copy we got.” You grabbed the book and handed it over to him.

“Thanks Y/N.” He looked around. “Um, did Coco come? Or any other Mayan?”

“No,” you gave him a confused look. “You’re the only Mayan that comes during business hours. The others usually come when the library is closed waiting for me to make sure I made it home safely when I was still dating Angel.” 

EZ opened his mouth to apologize but you held your hand up.

“Ezekiel, I’m not fragile, it’s fine to mention your brother.” You laughed lightheartedly to lighten the mood. You knew EZ tried his best not to mention his older brother. “So you and Marie are getting serious?”

“Something like that,” the sheepish smile on Ezekiel’s face made you want to pinch his cheeks. “Just put a good word for me.”

“A good word? My best friend hates hanging out at the library with me, yet, she comes here to what? Watch you read?” You loved teasing Ezekiel. You were glad when he got out of prison, the way everything turned out for him, it was awful but you were grateful he was getting another chance at life. “You should at least take her out on a date.”

“Look, don’t judge me, I just got out of prison.”

“It’s been two years.”

“Alright, fine, Marie is just intimidating. One day she seems impressed with me, the next she’s not into it.”

“I think you’re reading too much into the situation. You two have been talking for four months now and you still haven’t asked her out. Marie is simple, start with the movies.” You suggested. 

“That’s fucking lame though.”

“Okay Netflix.”

“How about the fair? You and Angel can be like our chaperone.” EZ was trying to help Angel, soften you up some, but you were pretty good at blocking EZ’s charm. 

You looked at EZ for a moment, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Nice try.”

EZ smiled and took the book to his usual corner at the library. You knew your best friend would be bursting through the door in the next thirty minutes. Marie and EZ have been playing the flirting game for the last year and have been officially talking for the last four months. It was cute and you were happy that Marie found EZ and vice versa.

You got on the computer, trying to organize the library website like you promised your boss that you would do. The door opened and you expected the usual coffee Marie brought you.

“I feel like I should start requesting for a pastry since you two use my library as your hangout spot.” You teased. “I’m glad you’re here, coffee will help me through the rest of my shift.”

“I didn’t bring coffee querida, but I can run and get you some.”

You froze. That wasn’t Marie’s voice. Looking up, you found Angel with his staple kutte on his back along with a navy blue button up. His body has changed over the last two years, his muscles were more prominent. You weren’t blind, you could appreciate Angel taking care of his body.

“Can I help you?” The professional tone killed Angel, but he was determined to break through that.

“Came to check out a book, maybe you can help me?” Angel leaned against the countertop of the kiosk desk. His scent hit you and it made you want to smack him. How dare this man? You wanted to move on, and you’ve been doing so well. 

“I didn’t know you could read.”

“You know that’s a lie, I used to read to you while I fucked you.”

“Angel.” You hissed out his name, not wanting to yell.

Angel chuckled at your reaction. “Is it not true?”

“Listen, loitering is not allowed here.”

“That’s literally what everyone does around here.” Angel looked over at EZ and he shot his baby brother a smirk. “Well, I was looking for Stanford, I’ll be seeing you.”

You chose not to reply, saying ‘yeah right’ in your head. Marie walked in coffee and a box of Krispy Kreme in hand. The sigh of relief you let out was definitely noticed by her and her eyes immediately roamed the library to see if your creepy admirer was around, but instead she found EZ and Angel.

“Never pegged Angel as a library type of guy.” She placed your drink on the countertop. 

“He actually loves poetry, he really likes the European writers, British novels mostly Pride and Prejudice, Frankenstein, Jane Eyre, Shakespeare.” You mouthed off Angel’s interest which never surprised Marie. When you love someone, you made it a mission to know that person, so you would know their ins and outs. You become invested in any relationship you forge since you rarely make friends as it was. It wasn’t about quantity, it was all about quality for you. A hard lesson you learned over the years. “He’s a big fan of Scarlet Letter and Invisible Man. But he really likes poetry from all generations, when we were still together, I got him a few poetry books from a few authors he liked.” You paused, realizing the tangent you went on. It wasn’t uncommon whenever you spoke about Angel. 

Marie enjoyed it because she got to learn about her old obnoxious neighbor that never deserved her best friend. You met Angel through Marie and in some ways, she regretted letting it happen, but when she saw how happy you were, how could she be so opposed? Even with knowing Angel’s history, she had faith. But then Angel decided that the single life was more of a life for him, something you never knew about. You never wanted to know about it and she didn’t push you.

“It’s okay, I love your tangents, even if they’re about that asshat.” Marie rolled her eyes. “So, have you given any thought of going on a date with Tyler?”

“You mean your co-worker you always refer to as a man slut?” 

“Bitch, we’re trying to get the pussy wet, not a serious relationship.” 

“That’s a no.” 

You and Marie jumped, not expecting to hear Angel’s voice.

“Where did you even come from?”

“You setting her up?” Angel ignored Marie’s question. He was going to bug you for the name of that author you always raved about when you two were together, but he became intrigued when he caught the tail end of your tangent about his interests. It was endearing for him to hear that you still knew so much about him, but his mood soured when he heard Marie trying to set you up. “Tyler, the douche that always gets drunk out of his mind at the clubhouse?”

“Again, just trying to get her dry spell to end.”

“I volunteer.” Angel smirked.

“Not interested.” You replied as you turned to face Angel. “We talked about this, please, just respect my wishes. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Hate to break it to you querida, the library is public property, unless I’m disrupting the peace, I have every right to be here as much as you do.” Angel placed his chin on his hand, smiling sweetly at you. 

You grabbed the coffee and the box of donuts. “I’m going to take my break.” 

Your co-worker, Sienna took over the kiosk desk, Marie making her way over to Marie. She knew you needed some alone time. As she passed Angel, she patted his back.

“Give her space, don’t push it.” 

Angel wasted enough time. He knew you. It’s not that you didn’t want to be around him, you were just protecting your heart. He gave you five minutes before he followed after you, finding the trunk of your Toyota RAV4 opened. Walking over to you, he opened his mouth to speak, you beat him to it.

“Eugene, please, I’m on my break, I would appreciate it if you didn’t follow me.” Your day was starting to become shit since seeing Angel helped you realize that you weren’t over him. It’s been two years but due to his drunken escapades, it was hard for you to move on. 

“Who the fuck is Eugene?”

“No one.” You didn’t want to tell Angel about Eugene. It’s not like he would care, but you haven’t exactly told Angel about how your kindness to Eugene went from endearing to him becoming obsessive. “Can I help you?”

“I was going to take a smoke break then I saw your trunk open.” Angel shrugged, taking note of the name Eugene so he could ask Marie later. “Can I join you?”

“No, I’m done.” You closed the box of donut, picking up your drink as you stood up. 

“Come on, throw me a bone here. Can you give me a chance to explain?”

“Explain what exactly? Why you broke up with me? Why you kept me in your back pocket by being your go to house when you're drunk?”

“You gonna let me explain or are you gonna continue interrupting me?”

“I don’t care what you do, just please stay away from me. You’ve made your stance very clear two years ago. I don’t care why you came to me while you’re drunk, but it doesn’t matter. Don’t come to my job, don’t come to my apartment, just please stay away from me.”

“You don’t mean that.” Angel frowned. He didn’t expect things to go like this. Maybe he was an asshole or an idiot, but he expected you to welcome him with open arms.

“I do, I want to move on, build new relationships and be happy. I didn’t break your heart, I didn’t hurt you, if you don’t love me that’s fine. If you feel bad for what happened, you’re good, you’re forgiven.” You pressed the button that automatically closed your car. “I’m suffocating right? I’m too nice right? Then leave me alone.”

“You really just gonna walk away?”

You were about to answer Angel when you heard a familiar voice call out your name. Looking to where you heard the voice, you saw Jay, your ex-boyfriend. Angel cussed under his breath when he saw him. Jay was a sore subject for Angel. You two rarely spoke about Jay and it was mostly due to the fact that Angel never brought him up. When you did bring up Jay, it was a rare occurrence. It’s not that Angel didn’t care about your ex-boyfriend, in fact, he cared too much. Too many times he’s heard people spoke about how epic you and Jay were together. The perfect couple that would have stayed together if you decided to go with Jay to Germany. 

“Jay?” You hopped out of your trunk and was in disbelief. Jay, from what you knew, was still in Berlin, and wouldn’t be back for another three years. You kept in touch with him since you had a quite amicable break-up.

You two had dated for eight years before you two eventually parted ways. High school sweethearts, intended to last forever, but forever wasn’t a thing. You two broke up amicably and remained friends. It was hard not to be friends with a person you spent eight years of your life with. 

It was your ex-boyfriend. 

He couldn’t forget his name, he knew everything about the fucking guy. The first love, the one you would always love, that was the cliche, right? He remembered that he briefly met Jay before he left for Berlin once again. He was bringing you home after a catch up dinner with other friends and he saw just how your smile shone brightly around him. Jay was looking down at you, returning your smile as you animatedly spoke to him about something. You turned to face Angel and what he missed was how your smile changed, it was that smile specifically for your Angel. You had made your way towards him, wrapping your arms around him. Jay first met Angel then and much to your surprise, Jay took a liking to Angel, especially since he was a big fan of his Harley. Angel didn’t show much interest towards Jay, but you knew it bugged your then boyfriend how close you were to Jay.

Angel was not friends with any of his exes, but he also wasn’t with them for a long amount of time. If anything, you were his longest relationship. And seeing you react the way you did with Jay, he regretted it further that he let you go.

“Eugene is still coming here? You told me you handled that.” Jay was annoyed, you told him that you handled your too friendly library consumer. Jay stood at 6’4, 210 pounds, the Marines shaped him well. 

You looked at Angel and Jay did as well. 

“If you’re going to bother her when you’re drunk, you should at least get rid of her stalker.” Jay didn’t have a problem with Angel, but he knew Angel had a problem with him. He could see it when they first met. He couldn’t blame him, he rarely knew of exes that were friends, but Jay couldn’t exactly let you go. 

You two grew up together, you knew him best.

“Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you are?” You saw how quickly Angel’s face turned sour and you knew you could have a fight in your hands.

“Aright, let’s not do anything crazy.” You got in between them, with you facing Angel. “We’re done.”

You locked your car before making your way inside the library once again, dragging Jay with you, and leaving Angel to his own devices. The broken look on your face, he wanted to take that away, especially since he caused it. He loves you, he really did, he was just an idiot. 

The fact that Jay was seemingly back in town, Angel had to make a move. 

And you should know better, Angel was anything but a quitter.

=================

Angel walked in the library and found you talking to one of your co-workers. He saw her nudge you and your eyes met. Quickly you looked away, shushing your co-worker. Angel took his usual spot opening the book he had borrowed earlier in the week. You weren’t surprised Angel burned through books, people counted him out due to his affiliates, but you knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

Jay hasn’t been back since he saw him two weeks prior. Angel frequented the library and never saw a sign of him. 

“You look beautiful Y/N.” Eugene, a regular at the library, complimented you. What started off as you being kind, feeling bad for a man who appeared to be a loner, was starting to make you feel uneasy. For the last three years, he progressively became bolder and you could tell that he was getting to the point where aggressive behavior was going to come out. Regardless of how nice you were, you always made sure he knew that you two were friends.

“Thank you Eugene.” You faked this small smile on your lips, but you didn’t want to provoke him. Sienna stayed beside you, she was more straightforward and had no problem telling Eugene to fuck off.

“Have you thought of my invitation for dinner tonight? My mother would love to meet you? I speak about you often with her.” The uneasiness at the pit of your stomach was unexplainable and Angel noticed the change on your face.

Sienna looked at you, her eyes slightly widening. She’s had enough of Eugene. It was small talk at first, but as of late, the man was beginning to be more bold. Starting with grabbing a drink or coffee, it evolved to having dinner at his place. You never entertained the idea and always let him down, but he wasn’t understanding.

“I’m sorry Eugene, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“Why not?” You saw how his face slightly scrunched up, his voice slightly raising. A few of the library patrons looked over before going back to their book. “Stop being such a tease and just go to my place.”

Both you and Sienna were appalled by his suggestion. You never teased him. 

“Excuse me? I’ve never done such a thing.”

“Oh please, with the skirts and dresses you wear, how do you expect anyone to not be teased by your clothing. Mother is right, you’re a slut, but no mind, I can repent you.”

Angel heard enough. You saw him from the corner of your eye. 

“Call security, I’ll handle Angel.” You walked out of the kiosk and intercepted Angel. 

“Let go of me, he’s not going to get away speaking to you like that.” The restrained tone in Angel’s voice made you nervous for Eugene. 

“Please, Angel.” The way you whispered his name with a plea, it made Angel sigh deeply, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“Make sure he’s gone when we get back.” He instructed Sienna. You led him to the restricted area of the library which was situated at the back. Older books or original versions of books were kept here, with only employees having access and at times guests who were accompanied by employees. 

When you two were all the way at the back of the restricted area, you leaned against one of the bookshelves as Angel paced back and forth in front of you.

“How long has he been harassing you?” Angel questioned, continuing his pace.

“Angel.”

“How. Long.” He let out through gritted teeth. There was no argument. He let you take him away, you owed him this.

 You didn’t want to tell Angel, it didn’t matter anyway. All you knew was that you had to take care of this, he was making your anxiety spike up. “Three years.” 

“Three years?!” Angel’s voice echoed throughout the library. 

“Angel.” You hissed, keeping your voice low.

“Are you fucking kidding me? And you never told me?” Angel didn’t heed your warning. He was livid. How could you not tell him, especially while you two were together?

“Eugene is harmless.” He shot you a look and you sighed. “He was harmless.” You amended your statement. “Angel, please, it’s okay.”

“No the fuck is not, the way he spoke to you?” Angel felt his temper rise again. Fuck security, he would beat the idea in to Eugene that he was to never breathe the same air as you again. “Wait, Jay knew? And you didn’t tell me?”

You cussed under your breath. You accidentally told Jay about Eugene. He was FaceTiming you when Eugene came in after hours. You were able to shoo him away since Jay was on the phone. You never even thought of telling Angel, you didn’t want Angel to make a big deal out of it and you honestly thought you were reading too much into it. 

“I,” you sighed. “It wasn’t on purpose. Jay was FaceTiming me when Eugene walked in after hours.” 

“Did you have him pretend to be your boyfriend?” Angel knew he was being unreasonable, but it irked him that your ex-boyfriend knew about your stalker and he didn’t. He was the one who was in Santo Padre. He was the one who could deal with it. 

“No, Angel, it was years ago.”

“My fucking point exactly, it’s been years and you never told me. I was your boyfriend then, not him. How could you not tell me?”

“I don’t know, it was harmless, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.”

“Out of nothing?” Angel exclaimed, shaking his head at your ridiculousness. “We’re gonna fucking talk after this, this should have never been an issue.”

Before he could leave, you blocked his way.

“Move.”

You shook your head. 

“Don’t act like I can’t just lift you out of the way.” 

You weren’t exactly the lightest, and hardly looked like any of Angel’s previous girlfriends. You had meat on your bones and some people may poke fun at your weight, but Angel always made you feel like a queen. He loved your curves, kissed and worshipped every part of your body. Well until he broke up with you.

“Angel, please, just stay with me.” You wrapped your arms around him and he wrapped his arms around you.

“No, he’ll never learn his lesson unless,” 

You cut Angel off by bringing his lips down to yours. Whenever Angel became irritated or upset, small touches or kisses from you would always calm his anger. You took a chance knowing Angel doesn’t exactly want you anymore, so you’re not sure what this would do for the situation, but you had to try. Angel immediately responded to your kiss, his hands cupping your face. One of his hands slid down to your neck, slightly moving you so you were against the bookshelves. His hand moved down, brushing against your breast causing you to moan. Angel’s tongue slipped in, deepening your kiss. He pressed you against the shelf, pulling away and pressing his forehead against yours. The anger that had overtook his body was gone, and was now replaced for a burning desire for you.

“You still taste so good.” Angel kissed you again, your back arching so your front was pressed against his front. One of his hands was sliding under your skirt, causing you to pull away.

“No Angel.” You shook your head, moving away from him to fix yourself. 

Angel groaned, his dick was hard and he was at a library with no means of relieving it. He thought of anything that could help his erection to go away, his third grade teacher who was horrific to him did the trick. Turning to face you, he found you looking around before you took his hand and led him further down the restricted area of the Santo Padre library. It was an old library, built by the Spaniards when they were doing their missions along California. Bringing him to the last row where you knew there was an entrance to the inventory the library had for the restricted section. You knew no one ever went in there till closing. You didn’t want Angel to do anything to you, but you could definitely help alleviate some of his anger. 

“Querida, where the fuck are we?” Angel looked around and the shelves were against the walls, a few shelves were in the middle of the room, otherwise, there were books everywhere. You led him to a desk that Sienna used to organize the unlabeled books. You pushed Angel down onto the office chair. He watched as you sunk to your knees, your eyes focused on unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. “Hey, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know, but I want to.” You lifted your eyes to meet his and the softness in his eyes was such a stark contrast from earlier where they were dark, anger obviously apparent. Now, it was adoration and lust that clouded his iris. You tugged on his jeans, which Angel assisted you with, lifting himself up so you could pull down his jeans and boxers. Smirking, you wrapped your hand around his semi-hard cock, using some of his pre-cum to help your hand glide down with ease. Angel groaned, leaning his head back. It was his weakness, watching your beautiful lips around his cock, trying to take in as much of his cock, he was a goner whenever you did that. The way your eyes would water, your cheeks hallowed, your mouth full of him, the image alone could make him cum. But he always held back, letting himself enjoy you. 

“Fuck, look at you mi sol,” he watched as you spat down on his cock, holding his thick member with one hand. Placing a kiss on the tip of his cock, you looked up at Angel as you opened your mouth to take him in. Just as he taught you, you took Angel until you could not take any of him anymore, moving your head back up, his cock sheath with your saliva. You took him in your mouth once more, Angel gathering your hair in one hand. He loved your eyes on him. Those hooded eyes under those thick black rimmed glasses of yours. You move your mouth up and down his cock, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him whenever his tip reaches your gag reflex. You let go of him with a pop, your hand replacing your mouth. “That’s right baby, take your dick and let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” Angel tried not to lose himself with you, but any part of you that was connected always felt so good for him. He didn’t know what it was but everything he did with you was a hundred times more intense when compared to others.

Placing two hands on his cock, you had your mouth on the tip of his cock, running your tongue over and over again over Angel’s sensitive cock. He moaned out your name, gripping your hair tighter. You were licking his cock like it was a tootsie roll lollipop and you were trying to get to the center. You moved so that your tongue was moving up and down his shaft, getting to the top and engulfing his tip with your mouth. Angel groaned, throwing his head back, licking his lips as you continued to bob your head up and down. His hand assisted you, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, swallowing around it.

“Holy fuck princesa, keep going I’m about to cum.” Angel moaned. “You want me to cum in your mouth baby? You gonna swallow daddy’s cum?”

You chose not to answer and continued your ministrations. Just as you felt Angel’s cock pulsing in your mouth, you pulled away, placing a kiss on his cock. Angel slammed his hand on the desk, grabbing your hair. 

“You really want to play with daddy?” His face was so close to you, your hand still around his cock. You tightened your hold, moving your hand up and down causing Angel to close his eyes. He moaned out your name, further dampening your panties. “Put your mouth back on my cock so I can fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.” 

You followed Angel’s instructions, taking him back in your mouth. Angel began to thrust up in your mouth, tears forming in your eyes as he moved in and out of your mouth. Your hands rested on Angel’s thighs, your nails digging into his skin. He chanted your name before he came in your mouth, holding your head against him. You swallowed some of his cum, keeping some of it in your mouth. He let go of your hair, saying how much of a good girl you were for swallowing daddy’s cum. His cock was still semi-erect and you smirked, dropping some of his cum on his cock, making Angel groan as he felt himself hardened again at the sight of you using his cum as lubrication, moving your hand up and down once again. 

“God, my dirty little librarian.” Angel always fantasized doing numerous things with you in the library. You weren’t opposed to it, but Angel hardly came to pick you up from your work. And now, Angel regretted that.

You placed a sweet little kiss at the tip of his cock before you stood up. 

“Stay here, I’ll get you some paper towels.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him.

“Let me make you feel good.” Angel smirked when he saw your breast just calling to him. You balanced yourself on the arm rest of the arm chair. Your dress was sinful since it was this black cami dress that you usually wore a cardigan with. He knew without that cardigan, all those fuckers that pretend to go to the library for books would be staring straight at your ample breast. And even though you were wearing leggings under, the imagination was running wild. “Where the fuck is your cardigan?” He hated how your breasts were just out in the open, even though your dress did cover your cleavage well, Angel had fucked you too many times in this dress, pulling the top down, watching as your breast bounced up and down as he fucked you.

“No, it’s okay, I just wanted to make you feel good.” In reality, you were ashamed you let this happen. For two years, you did nothing with Angel besides cuddling and now you not only kissed him but you gave him a blowjob. The only reason you did it was because seeing how protective he became over you, it made your heart melt. “I left it on my chair.” You bit back a moan as Angel grabbed your breast.

“What did daddy say about this dress?” He pushed one of your straps down, licking his lips as his eyes focused on your beautiful skin, calling him to mark it. 

“Angel,” you whimpered as he pulled a part of your dress down, your naked breast immediately greeting him. 

“Where the fuck is your bra?”

“It has a built in one.” 

Angel wrapped his hand around your throat, making you look at him. He growled, squeezing your breast, taking your nipples in between his fingers.

“I’m gonna ask you one more fucking time, what did daddy say about this dress.”

“Not to wear it unless you’re with me.” You gave in and you couldn’t even be angry. Angel was doing a number on you. But you had to snap out of it, pleasuring him was one thing, but you didn’t want to go back there with Angel. “But we’re no longer together.” You moved away, fixing yourself. You were so wet, but you couldn’t give in to Angel.

“I can change that.”

“I’ll meet you at the kiosk desk.”

When Angel eventually joined you at the kiosk desk, you were surprised when he sat right beside you. Sienna threw you a smirk before finishing a few things around the library since you were set to close in forty-five minutes. Eugene was escorted off of the property, but you knew he would be back. You should really be more stern with Eugene, but at the same time you knew he found solace in the library since it was his time away from his mother. 

You were organizing a few things at your desk, trying your best to avoid Angel and making yourself look busy. His eyes were on you, you could feel them. 

“We’re closing soon, you should go.” Boundaries, you shouted that in your head. Boundaries. You had to set up boundaries or you would be in this endless loop with Angel. There was no future between you two, there was no point of prolonging the inevitable.

“I’ll wait just in case he’s waiting for you outside.” Angel’s voice was strained. You knew he was upset about your comment earlier.

“He won’t be, this isn’t some crime drama.” You tried to lighten the mood, but that seemed to upset Angel further. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He leaned in, so only you could hear his words. “Stop it, I’m not leaving you, I’m going to make sure you’re fucking safe. You chose to hide this from me for years and now that I’m in the know, you’re not going to be a fucking statistic.” He took the cardigan that was resting on your chair, and placed it over you. “Wear your fucking cardigan. You think just because we’re not together you’re no longer mine?” Angel chuckled. “You’ll always be mine, you can fight it all you want, but you shouldn’t fight the inevitable.”

“I’m not yours, there’s no fighting anything. We’re not together and it’ll remain that way.” You moved away from him, focusing your eyes on the computer in front of you once more.

The library was finally closed and as Angel promised, he remained by your side. You stood up gathering your things and you saw Sienna making her way towards the door.

“Hey! Are we still meeting at that new Thai place?” 

Sienna was about to confirm your plans when Angel shook his head behind you. She refrained from smiling and shook her head.

“Sorry babe, my man just texted me. He’s having some technical difficulties at home. Rain check?” 

“Sure.” You smiled and waved her goodbye. You could feel Angel behind you, his heat was just radiating. “Hey, so, I have to do inventory. You can sweep the parking lot to see if he’s there, but otherwise, we’re good. Thanks again for standing up for me.” You didn’t want to face Angel, you were nervous about what you would see. Resisting Angel was difficult and you just had so much willpower left. You never felt your dry spell, it never bothered you, until today. Now you really had to get laid.

You felt Angel box you in, his front against your back. You felt his hot breath against your skin. “Are the cameras on?”

“Huh?” Being in such close proximity to Angel, you wanted to close your eyes, bask in the feeling, but you have to set up boundaries. 

“Are the cameras on?” Angel repeated his question.

“No, Sienna turns them off, only the outside cameras are on.” 

“Good.” Angel placed his hand on your breast, grabbing it through your dress. Placing your hand on top of his, you incidentally intertwined your hands, with your hand on top of his as his other hand slid down your dress starting from your chest down to your abdomen and under your dress, pulling down your leggings. You felt him smile against your ear when he felt just how dampen your panties were. “You’re so wet, is this all for daddy?” 

You whimpered when you felt Angel press against your clothed pearl. He squeezed your breast making you let out another whimper. “I didn’t hear an answer.”

“Yes daddy.” Your other hand grabbed Angel’s before he could move your underwear to the side. “Angel, let’s not do this.” Your mind screamed boundaries while your heart said fuck it. 

“Why baby, you let someone else touch my pussy?” Angel swatted your hand, slipping his fingers under your panties. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, stretch out this pussy.”

Your phone began to ring and you immediately grabbed it. It was Jay, your ex-boyfriend. Angel saw the name and growled out your name. 

“If you answer, I’m gonna make sure to make you come while he’s talking to you.” Jay was a sore spot for Angel. He was your high school sweetheart. The one that supposedly got away. Fuck that, Angel refused to acknowledge that. Jay was a part of your past, one he never wanted to address since he made him feel even more insecure about your relationship. 

Angel ran a finger up and down your slit, slipping it past your entrance shallowly, moving his finger tip in and out. It was just enough for you to feel him, but not enough.

You let your phone ring, focused on the sensations or lack thereof that Angel was providing.

“You want my finger all the way, so you can feel my rings against that pussy?”

You nodded your head, loving the feel of Angel’s hand against yours. His hands were always so fucking big, it made yours feel small.

“Naw, I know you got a voice,” he kissed your ear, nipping at it. “Fucking use it.”

“Yes, please daddy.” You begged.

Angel chuckled lowly and slipped his finger further in, adding a second finger. “Tight as always, no one touched you baby?” His thumb landed on your throbbing pearl, tapping it.

“No daddy, just me.” You didn’t want to disclose with Angel that Marie’s words were true about your dry spell. You felt him add a third finger and you threw your head back, your head landing on Angel’s shoulder. 

Angel wrapped a hand on your throat, chastely kissing your cheek. He kept his lips on your cheek, his breath against your skin further turning you on. 

“Did you use that toy I got you?” He questioned. He was rubbing his clothes erection against your back, the friction was amazing, but you knew it would be so much better when it was his bare skin against yours.

“Yes daddy, I did.” You were clenching Angel’s fingers, his fingers tightening around your throat. 

Just as Angel was about to unzip his jeans to slide on home, the door opened. You tried to move away from Angel, but all he did was fix your dress and kept you pressed against him. Jay looked at you, the swollen lips, the disheveled state and the smug look on Angel’s face gave it away. 

“Was I interrupting?” Jay questioned, walking further inside the library.

“No.” 

“Yes.”

You and Angel answered at the same time. He looked down at you, but you kept your eyes on Jay.

“You said you wouldn’t be back till next week.” You really wished Jay didn’t come, but at the same time you were glad he came. You were going to cave to Angel and that was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I decided to surprise you.” Jay leaned against the kiosk desk once he arrived, smirking. “You could have continued Reyes, I don’t mind watching.” The smugness on Jay’s face irritated Angel. 

You sighed and pushed Angel out of the kiosk desk. “Go home Angel.”

“I’m not leaving you with this guy.” Angel stood his ground. Jay wasn’t your man, and he never would be again. 

“She’s safe with me, go back to your little club, fix bikes, fuck bitches, and sell drugs.” Jay knew what the Mayans were, he’s had his fair share of run ins with them over the years. He was friends with Neron, a gym buddy of his you could say and he served time with Johnny in the Marines. 

“Jay!” You hissed.

Angel just smirked and shook his head. Jay wasn’t worth it, not yet at least.

“I’ll see you later querida.” He brushed past Jay. It took every fiber in his body to not knock him out.

There was a time and place.

His main goal right now was to get you back. You two had plenty to talk about and Angel planned on discussing things with you. He wasn’t going to let Jay weasel his way back in, especially since he may never let you go again.

Angel understood he fucked up.

He made a hasty decision.

But, it was a new year.

It’s 2020. 

A brand new decade. 

Your past grievances could be left behind in 2019.

Valentine’s Day was around the corner and he was determined to spend it with you.

Angel was more determined to win you back. That kiss, he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt that undeniable spark between you two. And the sexual encounters you two just had, it left Angel wanting more, as he always had.

But he had to take care of Eugene and then Jay.

=================

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @carlaangel86 : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @anangelwhodidntfall : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespancakes  : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life :  @onmyspookysblock : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @mrs-losa : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon  : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @lilac-tea-time : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @un-poetryy : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @khyharah : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @fuzzy-jellyfish : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @prdsdjarin : @blessedboo : @marvelmaree : @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @thesandbeneathmytoes : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @maddie-georges : @pearlkitten33  : @incorrect-mcdanno : @that-chick212 : @imanerdychubbyqueen : @60shannon : @deeandbobbymcgee : @marquelapage : @justlikebreathing : @mindless-x-dreaming : @thesewordsareallihavetogive : @wiccanmetallicrose : @appropriate-writers-name : @likedovesinthewnd : @admirehermind : @krysiewithak : @helli4nthus : @robbosvgdens : @scuzmunkie : @proudlittlewitchbitch : @lilacyennefer : @witchyhours​

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Try

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Warren has been through hell and then some, but will meeting his soulmate turn that around?

Note: That’s right, it’s ya girl, back on my BS. I watched Apocalypse again and BIG SURPRISE, I’m in love with Warren and Kurt all over again. Still hyperfixating on Pietro also, so…expect more fics for him as well. Anyway, I’m a ho for soulmate aus and I haven’t written one for birb boi in literal years, so here ya go.

Reader is: Gender Neutral

Warnings: swears, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.8k

Warren knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He didn’t. There was no question in his mind. Anyone who was destined to end up with his winged, alcoholic ass had been fucked over by the universe. No one deserved to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives. And yet, these thoughts didn’t seem to erase the words written on his forearm:

Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.

Professor. He scoffed. He was never going to college. If his parents had gotten their way, their son “cured” of his wings, he would have ended up at Harvard or Yale or somewhere similar. But it was far too late for that. Sitting in a cage in the back room of an illegal underground mutant fighting club in Berlin…it was far too late for that. He’d probably die before he met his soulmate anyway, rendering the prophecy on his wrist—and theirs, for that matter—useless. A waste of space.

That was all he was anyway.

He spiraled. His dependence on vodka got worse. The fights got harder. He wasn’t making it out unscathed anymore, winding up with burns and scrapes and cuts, depending on what kind of mutant he was up against. One night, one of his cuts had gotten dangerously close to the writing on his wrist. He stared at it for a long time, tears burning his eyeballs until they escaped and dripped down his cheeks, angry and hot.

He hated it, but even after everything, he still had hope. He still had hope that things would get better; that he could be better, even if it seemed impossible.

And then it got…worse.

Apocalypse had come, turned his wings to metal, tuned into his anger, his rage at the world, turned him into a monster, complete with knives for feathers and winding tattoos framing his face. He wished he could blame it on mind control or something, but Apocalypse hadn’t brainwashed him, only used his anger against him. Turned him into a weapon.

And then everything went black.

When he woke up after the battle, he was in an unfamiliar room, large and white and sterile; it smelled like hand sanitizer. He heard the steady beeping of a heart monitor and when he sat up, he noticed how sore he was. His whole body hurt. His head spun. But he was alive. And when he looked down at his tattoo, the words were still there. Wherever his soulmate was, they were fine. His stupidity in joining Apocalypse hadn’t caused anything to happen to them.

For the first time in what felt like years, he breathed.

“You’re awake.” A voice said as a tall man with brown hair entered his room. “I’ll let the Professor know.”

“Where…” his deep voice rasped and the man pointed to a glass of water sitting on the table adjacent to the cot he was situated in. He picked it up and took a few long, greedy sips, not realizing just how thirsty he was until the cool drink hit his tongue. “Where am I? What is this place?”

“This is the infirmary at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.” The man told him, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You’re safe here.”

Warren nodded hesitantly, but didn’t say anything else. Safe. The word was almost a myth to him at this point. But at least he felt like he could rest for a little while.

***

It had been a few weeks since Apocalypse and his horsemen had almost ended the world. Erik had decided to stick around, and two of the younger horsemen, Storm and “the Angel of Death,” respectively, had been absorbed into the school’s student body. You didn’t know the Angel’s name. No one really talked to him, not even Ororo, Storm, who had been quickly adopted by your friend group.

Supposedly, Peter had tried to talk to the Angel guy, but he didn’t say anything to him. Ororo theorized he probably felt guilty about the whole thing. She did. But you all knew she didn’t know what Apocalypse was really trying to do. He probably hadn’t either, but that didn’t seem to keep the grim expression off of his face.

It was on a nice, sunny day that Xavier called you into his office, and you went down without complaint, knocking on the door a few times before he called you inside. You sat in the chair across from his desk.

“Hi, Professor. What’s going on?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. Just the empath and healer I wanted to see.” He smiled brightly. “(Y/N), if you don’t mind it too terribly, I have a small job for you.”

“Of course! What do you need?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen our newest pupil, Warren, around.”

You thought for a moment. “The, uh, guy with the wings? The big metal ones?”

“Precisely.” He nodded. “Warren…he’s been having quite a hard time adjusting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He came to me yesterday discussing…well, quite simply, he was wondering if any of our mutants here would be capable of…reverting him to his previous state. His wings, before Apocalypse, were made of feathers. They’ve been serving as quite a reminder to him and it’s been weighing pretty heavily on him, both literally and emotionally.”

“Yeah, I’ve, uh, caught his vibes from across campus.” You nodded. “It’s like there’s always a rain cloud hanging over his head.”

“Yes,” Xavier agreed. “It doesn’t have to be right away, but at your nearest convenience, if you see him around, would you talk to him? Tell him I sent you?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see what I can do.” You promised him.

As an empath and a healer, your first priority was helping others. And even if he was known to be a bit intimidating, you wanted to help him if you could.

So, you walked out of Xavier’s office, attended your final class of the day, and when it was over, you wandered out into the courtyard where, because of the nice weather, students were everywhere. And luckily for you, just as you suspected he might be, Warren was sitting under a tree, still sporting his leather jacket despite the warm weather.

You shielded your eyes from the sun and walked over towards him, your heart racing as you built up the courage to talk to him. So, you took a breath and said, “Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.”

He stared up at you for a long moment, his green eyes wide in shock. He took a breath, blinked a few times, glanced down at his wrist, and then back up at you. You could have sworn you saw tears beginning to form along his waterline, and you didn’t realize why until he said, “You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

You froze, your knees going weak. You glanced down at your bare forearm and read over the words he’d just said, exactly the way he’d just said them.

You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.

“Why are you sorry?” You whispered, lowering yourself onto the grass beside him, not trusting your legs to support your weight for much longer. Now you were the one with tears in your eyes. “Don’t be sorry.”

“You deserve so much more than me.” He insisted, his eyes locked on his boots, unwilling and unable to meet your gaze. “I can’t drag you into…this. Me.”

His emotions were heavy, a bleak blue and gray haze and you felt it radiate off of him in waves. His pain, his everything. And you felt it, deep within his chest. He thought you wouldn’t want him anyway.

“Warren…” You shook your head. “Why…Why would you think I don’t want you?”

He was shocked into silence for a few seconds, thinking over his words carefully, his jaw tense and hands shaking. “You’re a telepath?”

“Empath.” You corrected quietly. “And…a healer. Which is why Xavier sent me.”

“Oh. Right.” He swallowed thickly, nodding. “Did he…tell you why?”

“He did.” You smiled softly. “And I’m willing to try if you are.”

Finally, his eyes met yours and he could tell that you meant more than just the healing when you said it. The weak little voice in the back of his head was screaming for him to push you away like he pushed away everyone else, but looking into your eyes, a genuine and warm smile on your face, he just…couldn’t lose you.

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

***

Today was the day. Warren was sitting on a stool in the infirmary. Hank had run his vitals and the two of them were in the room waiting for you to come down after your class was over.

“(Y/N) is the one who saved you, you know.” Hank told Warren while he jotted down some notes.

“What?” Warren asked, snapping out of whatever daydream he had been caught up in. “What do you mean?”

“(Y/N) found you in the rubble. We didn’t think you would make it, but…they healed you. They insisted we bring you back here. Give you a chance.”

Warren was quiet for a long time, thinking about what that meant. Part of him wondered if (Y/N) had known back then that he was their soulmate, but he decided that would have been impossible with just their tattoos alone. Especially without context. They hadn’t known and yet, they’d still wanted the best for him.

“Didn’t know that.” Warren said, his voice soft and deep. He stared at the words on his wrist for a little longer, a hint of warmth swirling around in his stomach. Was this happiness? Was that what happiness felt like? He barely remembered anymore. But he knew there must have been a reason that when you walked through the door, his heart started beating a little bit faster.

“Sorry I’m so late. Professor Leaf kept us a little later than she was supposed to. Are you ready?” You asked taking off your backpack and setting it against the wall. As soon as you looked up at Warren, you felt the way his heart rate was increased and you didn’t miss the warmth swirled with the anxiousness. The anxiousness, you had expected. Even you didn’t know if you could pull off what you were going to attempt to do, but the warmth…it was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t worry about it.” He told you, shaking his head. Was he…was he smiling? It was a small smile, sure, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him smile before. It looked good on him. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Alright.” You nodded, walking over towards him. Underneath where he was situated on a stool, Hank had laid out some pads from the training room, you assumed, to catch his metal feathers if they fell out rather than transforming back to his normal…feather feathers. None of you really knew how this would unfold. “Again, I’m not sure this will work. I don’t want to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t.”

“I’m not expecting it to.” Warren assured you, but it wasn’t in a rude way. “If it does, I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Cross my heart.” What he didn’t say was: You could never disappoint me. Not even if you tried.

“Okay.” You nodded, taking a few steps closer until you were standing right in front of him. He looked up at you and for the first time, you didn’t feel any negative emotions from him. Only anticipation and that lingering warmth. “Here goes nothing.”

You focused on the warmth in your own chest, the tingling yellow healing power that constantly swirled around your heart, and you forced it into your palms. You reached forward for his hands and he took the hint, his larger hands wrapping around yours.

Immediately, he gasped at the sensation, warm tingles running up his arms, down his spine. It stopped in the center of his back, right where his wings intersected with his body. At first, he didn’t feel anything. And then, he felt everything. The pleasant warmth flooded his metal wings, and one by one, the knife-like feathers fell out, each one landing with a thud against the mat situated underneath him.

Hank’s pencil jotted against his notebook as he took notes. He knew you were powerful, but he’d had no idea you were capable of something like this.

Neither had you.

Once the metal wings were gone, Warren felt a new sensation: another pair of wings, this one soft and familiar, slowly emerging from him. Part of him expected the process to be painful, like the one Apocalypse had forced upon him was, but it wasn’t. Warren chuckled to himself. Of course you would never hurt him. Not even unintentionally.

After a few minutes, the feathery wings had fully emerged, stretched out to his full former wingspan and he stared up at you in awe. You stopped your flow of power to him, but he held onto your hands, squeezing them to keep them in his grasp.

He looked back at his new wings, flexed them and moved them. They felt familiar, like they had always belonged to him.

“Thank you.” He said, giving your hands another squeeze, the warmth in his chest brighter and bolder than it had been before. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You told him, squeezing his hands right back in a way that caused his heart to lurch. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you mind if I keep some of these for research?” Hank asked.

“Keep all of them, if you want. I don’t want them.” Warren told him, standing up from his stool, his hands still in yours. “So, um…do you want to go grab dinner or something?”

“Sure.” You nodded, smiling up at him. “See you later, Hank.”

“Bye, guys, have a nice night.” Hank said as you and Warren walked out of his lab. He couldn’t help but notice the way one of your hands remained in one of his as the two of you left.

***

Later that night, after dinner and after you and Warren had split for the evening, you were walking back to your room from Jean and Jubilee’s and you found Warren, lingering in his doorway, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His eyes widened when he spotted you and he held up a finger, indicating you should wait for him, so you did while he went into his bathroom and rinsed out his mouth, returning a few moments later.

“Hey.” He said, the word casual as it fell from his pink lips.

“Hey yourself.” You chuckled, feeling ridiculously underdressed in your pajamas. But then again, he was wearing his pajamas, too, a large black Metallica shirt and a pair of plaid pants.

“How…how are you? Feeling?” He stumbled over his words, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. You felt a wave of nervousness rush through him. “Hank said sometimes you get tired after, uh, bigger healing jobs?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded. “For whatever reason, I never get tired when I’m healing you.” You chuckled, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Well…I think I know why…”

“Heh, yeah.” He nodded, mulling over his next words very carefully. “Did you, um…I don’t know how to ask this. Did you mean what you said about…trying? About us trying…this. Trying us.”

“Of course I did.” You nodded and took a few steps closer to him. “You’re my soulmate.” You reached for his hand and he gave it to you, letting you play with his fingers. You felt the way his heart fluttered when you did. “Of course I want to try.”

“I’m broken.” He told you. “I’ve never done this before. I’m…I’m a lot, and I know that.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m a healer, huh?” You tilted your head. “And if we’re being honest, I’ve never done this before either. So how about we teach each other? Learn together?”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

You let go of his hand and instead took the last few steps between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his torso. He froze for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. It had been…a long time since anyone had hugged him. But after a few moments, his arms got the hint and wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. He rested his head atop yours and exhaled a long, long breath. And for the first time since you’d met him, you felt a wave of peace wash over him, encasing him entirely as his wings gently cocooned you in their warmth.

You felt his lips brush against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there. You looked up at him and his eyes met yours before fluttering shut as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.

[bubblybubbubs]

Stuck With Me (3)

Summary - Draco’s POV on losing his soulmate

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count - 3.5k

AN- I am so sorry this took so long, I hope you all enjoy it!

Part 1  2 

taglist - @lonely-kermit @lifeasdreamgirl @mera-shifts @abbyloubaton @clumsilyclueless @confusedscreaminggremlin @seanh-boredom @weasleysmalfoyxstyles @thefandomplace @mayempress @shadyrose66622 @jay-jay-love @ktvia @lovebynorth @sweet-creature98 @remmyswritings​ @chaoticgirl04

Sometimes Draco thought about how different his life would be had he not left you, had you not gotten hurt and lost your fucking memory.

It was truly ridiculous, the universe was actively conspiring against him, he was sure of it.

His current living situation just proved that further to him. “Wake the fuck up.” Blaise said slowly pouring water on his face even though Blaise himself was evidently groggy. “I will kill you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Draco was unsure as to why Blaise had chosen to live in a crappy apartment when his family Manor was free. He missed his silk sheets and expensive pillows. Yet sadly the ministry had decided they wanted to take that leaving Draco on Blaise’s smelly consignment store couch. Had he gotten completely cut off by his family? Perhaps, it would make the disgustingly plain beans and toasts they ate daily make a lot more sense. He’d hate to think that Blaise fed them this by choice.

“Guess who wrote.” Blaise said, wiggling a letter in Draco’s face.

“Loud ginger?”

“Loud ginger.” He confirmed dropping it in on Draco’s face. “You should answer her before we get a howler, then we’ll really see how loud the ginger can get.” Draco looked at the letter, Ginny’s name was scrawled on the envelope and the aggressiveness of the signature made him heavily considering not opening it but the possibility of getting a howler from her convinced him otherwise.

Draco,

You are the worst and I hate you. I’m not sure if you care anymore given that you have refused to make contact with her but y/n is doing fine. I mean sure she’s been asking about her soulmate and lying to her is slowly killing me, but I’m glad you and Blaise are having fun in your bachelor pad and that you have successfully cleared your amnesiac soulmate out of your head.  

Looking forward to hearing your pathetic excuses,

Ginny Weasley.

It was way too fucking early for this.

-

Things were strange.

You had gotten most of your memories back but everything was very different than what you remembered, everyone was different after the war.

The Weasleys, oh the poor Weasleys, they were like your family but the life has been sucked out of them without Fred. They had all tried to hide it from you, they believed you were already going through enough and you didn’t need their problems too. Ginny especially, she hadn’t left your side since you woke up. You kind of felt bad for Harry because whenever he wanted to spend some one on one time with Ginny she always insisted you tagged along.

For example whatever the fuck this current situation was.

“I’m really sorry Harry.” You whispered to him. “I told her I’d be fine alone.”

At first it had sort of made sense how careful everyone had been around you, but at this point it was exhausting. You would walk into a room and it would just go silent. You lost your memory, not your basic communication skills.

“It’s fine, I understand Ginny can be quite persistent.”

“What about me.” Ginny said hooking her arms with the both of you.

“Just that I don’t think I should be going on your dates anymore, it’s kind-“

“Ginny.” Harry said interrupting you pointing towards a boy down the street. He was blonde and lanky, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

You had seen Ginny mad, in fact it was one of the first things to come back to you. Her calm fury was something that hadn’t remained constant since she was young and right now you saw it on her face as she stared daggers into the boy.

She scoffed. “I’ll be back.”

“This might take a while.” Harry said quietly, shaking his head. “Come on we can meet Ginny there.” You stole a glance across the street as Harry dragged you away. Ginny was yelling at the boy but he didn’t seem to care because he wasn’t looking at her he was looking at you. You felt your face heat up and you looked away from him following Harry. “Who was that, should I know him?”

Harry paused for a minute.

He had that face that people had whenever they were walking on eggshells around you.“He went to school with us but I don’t think you two were ever friends.” The way he didn’t look you in the eyes screamed to you that he was lying.Harry was always a horrible bloody liar.

-

It was really hard for Draco to process what Ginny was saying. Her anger had gone right to her face and Draco had been silently betting with himself as to how long it would take for her face to turn the same color as her hair. “Your face is really red.” Draco said, struggling to hold back his laughter. “Are you drunk.” Ginny said stoically.

Was he? It was likely, he honestly couldn't remember the morning or yesterday. The days were sort of blending together.

“Malfoy.” Ginny said. Usually when people used his name they were yelling at him or were angry at him. But Ginny said it with pity which somehow felt worse.

“I don’t get why you're doing this to yourself.” She said. “You’re miserable.” He deserved to be miserable.

“It’s for the best.”

“How’s that.”

Draco had no interest in divulging his feelings to weaslette of all people, but it seemed his judgement was slightly impaired by the alcohol he may or may not had been drinking. “I’m going to fucking Azakban Ginevra,I just dont see the point in telling her I’m her soulmate and possibly facing rejection just for me to be thrown in Azkaban for the rest of my life.” Draco huffed. “Even if she somehow forgave me, I doubt the dementors will be allowing conjugal visits.”

“There are no more dementors at Azkaban, Kingsley got rid of them.”

Now normally Draco was against hitting girls but he was considering it heavily. “Thank you Weasley. I feel way better, I’m sure Azkaban is a paradise now. Remind me to send Kingsley a thank you letter.”

“Draco.” Ginny said.

Gross, hearing Ginny say his first name with pity felt even worse.

“You’re not going to Azkaban, Harry agreed to speak at your trial.”

“Oh great he’ll testify to the one time I helped him, I’m sure it’ll cancel everything else out.” He said. “I’m not a good person Weasley, that’s why I know I’m going to Azkaban, because I deserve it.”

“Is that why you’re staying away from y/n?” Ginny said even angrier than before. “Is this some sort of self punishment.”

Draco stayed quiet.

“Merlin, Draco go to fucking therapy.” Ginny huffed. “You’re not the only one that’ll suffer because of your self pity. She needs her fucking soulmate back, as much as I hate you for everything you’ve put her through I can’t argue with the fucking universe and neither can you.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have fucking gotten involved with her in the first place, it’s only put her in danger.” He took a deep shaky breath. “And her losing her memory was the universe’s way of telling me to stay away.”

He had known for a long time that she was too good for him  

It was dark and he was tired, turns out making potter stinks badges and teaching all of Slytherin clever chants was demanding. Draco wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings as he walked back to his dorm until of course he heard quiet sobs. He was a firm believer that crying in public was pathetic, especially in a hallway where anyone could stumble across you. And he might’ve told them that had it not been you. He had been thinking about you, not that he would ever tell anyone that ever. But how could he not, you were his soulmate and that had to mean something.

He barely had time to think as his feet moved on their own bringing him in front of you.

“Why are you crying.”

Merlin, could he have been any less compassionate.

“Why do you care Malfoy.” You said.

He hated the way you looked pretty even if your eyes were all puffy and your face was all red.

“I don’t.”

He did. He even started to walk away for dramatic effect of course.

“I’m scared.” It felt weird to hear sincere words from you that weren't you yelling at him, and he hated the fact that he didn't hate it. “Harry has his first task tomorrow he could get hurt or worse.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Don’t tell him I told you this but he has to be some sort of invincible to defeat Voldemort at the age of 1. Don't you think?”He could hardly believe the words he was saying.

“I suppose you’re right.” You finished off.

Draco sat tensely, he wasn't exactly sure what to do. He couldn't hug you could he? No that would be seriously overstepping. You would probably punch him in the face, again. After all you had been the one who wanted to forget about the whole soulmate thing and of course you were a halfblood and a gryffindor on top of that. It would never work.

For once he hated being right.

-

You were actively weighing how likely it was for Ginny to kill you if you woke her up.

Very, is what you eventually came up with. Maybe you could play the amnesia card.

“What do you want y/n.” Ginny grogged from under her. “I’ve been listening to you shifting around for the last hour.”

You had been staying at the Weasley’s and you had absolutely refused to take Fred’s bed so that had resulted in a cramped hammock floating in Ginny’s room.

You turned around to face her with a sorry look on your face.

“Did I know that boy, the one you were yelling at.” You said. “I just feel like I knew him.”

Ginny was quiet the same way Harry was. “No.” She said turning away from you. “No you didn’t.”

“Ginny-”

“Y/n please don’t.” Ginny said, cutting you off. “It’s not for me to tell, if it was believe me you’d already know.”

“I want to go.”

“Go where.”

“To Hogwarts.”

It was embarrassing. Everyone had gone already; they had been able to at least attempt to cope with the trauma they had endured. And you who couldn't even remember the bloody war couldn't work up the nerves to go.

Ginny stared at you for a bit before muttering. “Hermione and Ron are going soon, they’ll likely let you join them.” You were about to make an argument about going on your own before Ginny turned back around nonverbally telling you that the conversation was over.

You still couldn’t sleep and not from lack of trying. Your mind was whirring, ever since you had seen Ginny yell at the boy your lack of memory seemed to be feeling different. And your fear was beginning to settle in, your doctor said that some memories may never come back and that thought made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t feel all that different, Ginny said you were the same whenever you asked. But she could be lying (since she seemed to be in the habit of doing so these days) and you would never know because you had amnesia.

-

Draco was regretting not taking his plea deal. He would much rather be sleeping in Azkaban than waking up on Blaise’s concerningly uncomfortable couch to an angry looking ginger towering over him. No one seemed to value his rest and it was getting ridiculous. He pressed his eyes closed and pull his blanket further over his face in hopes that maybe Ginevra would disappear. Sadly that was not the case and Ginny ripped the blanket off of him leaving Draco quite cold.

Ginny stared down at him as she stood impatiently at the foot of the couch.

“Blaise someone broke into your flat.”

“I noticed mate.” Blaise said who looked just as exhausted hunched over his coffee.

“We need to talk.”

“We talked remember, or were you drunk too?”

Ginny did not look amused and Draco almost felt bad for being so difficult but then he remembered he didn't care.

“Y/n’s going to Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione. She’s likely going to get her memories back.” Ginny said. “Thought you should know.”

Draco sat up. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Ginny said taking a deep breath. “You need to be there.”

“How so?”

“She’s going to remember all the shitty things you’ve done to her and are yet to apologize for and you’re going to lose your soulmate for good.”

“I don't see how me being there will change that.”

Ginny didn't answer him rather she walked towards his chimney. “You know what, screw you. I truly do not care if you go, I just thought you should have the choice that's all.”

Ginny didn't look at Draco, rather giving Blaise a short nod before using the floo to go back to the Burrow.

Draco let himself fall back down to the couch as he listened to Blaises loudly chow down his cereal.

“So are you going to go?” Blaise said his mouth still full.

He felt bad for Blaise’s mum all that money on etiquette lessons for what?

“No.” Draco said, burying his head in his pillow.

“You’re a tosser.”

“I can live with that.”

He could and he has. If he had a sickle for everytime he was called some variation of ‘tosser’ he certainly would not be sleeping on Blaise’s couch.

“I’m calling Pansy.” Blaise didn’t scare him, not in the slightest. But Pansy was another story, Pansy scared everyone, especially the people that loved her which sadly included Draco. “I will kill you.”

“You’re just saying that cause you know she’ll knock some sense into you.”

“I have a lot of sense.” Draco groaned. “In fact I have too much sense.”

Blaise ignored Draco’s exaggerated groans as he called Pansy.The call was short or maybe it was long, all Draco knew was that Pansy was standing over him with that look on her face.

“I’m not going, and you’re not changing my mind Pansy.”

“Blaise leave.” Pansy ordered.

Blaise looked insulted. “This is my house.”

“You call this a house?”

Blaise huffed mumbling under his breath curses at Pansy.

“That was rude.”

“So you're going to lecture me on rudeness now, that's rich coming from you.”

“I dont care.”

“You look and smell like shit, I can tell you ‘don’t care’.” Pansy said.

Never in her life had Pansy been one to sugar coat things and apparently she had no intention of starting to do so. Draco was going to argue it was the couch but he realized he couldn't remember the last time he showered so he kept his mouth shut. Draco a year ago would’ve drowned himself in the black lake had he known he’d come to be like this.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m pulling the card.”

“Pansy no that’s not fair.” Draco said sitting up.

“Fair?”

Poor choice of words.

“Draco, do I have to remind you my soulmate is dead, I stopped feeling tugs and being able to talk to my soulmate when i was 13. Your soulmate is alive by some fucking miracle, and frankly you’re being a selfish prick.”

“Oh.” He always hated when Pansy talked about it. Not because he didn't care but according to Pansy because he cared too much and the last time he had shown any sign of pity towards Pansy it had not gone well for him.

“What lies do you have Ginevra feeding her, does she think she has no soulmate, does she think her soulmate is dead?”

“She doesn’t think she has a soulmate.” Draco said in a low voice, he wasn't proud of what he was doing but he also knew he had no choice. “She was in her coma during the tug. I figured by the time the next one rolls around I have something figured out.”

“And what about you.” She asked. “She may not remember you but you’ll remember her, you'll never forget that you have a soulmate out there that you refuse to see.”

“I won't let myself ruin her.”

“She’s a grown woman, I find it demeaning that you don't see her capable of making her own damn choices.”

“What?”

“You think she'll hate you, you think she’ll be ruined, you think she’s better off. What about what she thinks? You think she'd be okay with you slowly killing yourself?”

“You're a bitch Pansy.”

“So I’ve been told.” She looked towards the clock.

“Come on lets get you something to eat.”

She reached her hand out for Draco to grab.

“I can walk to the kitchen without holding your hand thank you very much.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and grabbed onto Draco’s arm.

“What are you-”

Draco’s sentence was cut off by Pansy apparating them both out of the loft.

-

Draco had gone to his fair share of therapy, did it ever work? no, Draco would rather die before talking about his feelings with a stranger but he had been taught his fair share of anger exercises . And Merlin did they come in handy, truly it was the only thing keeping him from throttling Pansy as she stood there with a smug face looking at the rubble that once was Hogwarts.

“Pansy.” Draco said slowly.

“Shut up, look she’s right there.”

“I’m not ready Pansy.” Draco said wiping his palms on his pants out of stress. “I wanted to bring her flowers.”

“flowers?”

“Forget me nots.” He said with a sardonic dry chuckle. “It was our unofficial flower, ironic isn’t it.”

“The fact that you have an unofficial flower makes me want to throw up.”

“I need flowers.” He said. Pansy groaned before searching the grass. She picked up a dandelion swirling her wand transfiguring it into a bouquet of forget me nots.

“Here, go.” He was about to give another excuse but Pansy apperated away. The one time he needed her she leaves.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to approach her without seeming like a stalker.

His thoughts were disrupted by Hermione and Ron walking up to him. He wanted to turn around so bad but he had no doubt that if he did so Hermione and Ron wouldn’t hesitate to curse him.

“Granger, Weasley.” He said sticking his hands as deep as his pockets would allow him.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Hermione said.

Draco shrugged.

“Just go talk to her.” Ron said.

“Thats why Im here.”

Ron mumbled something under his breath but Draco didn’t feel like fighting Weasley.

Draco had never felt such anxiety because of another person. He had always been confident and walked around like he owned the world, but now he felt scared.He watched you as you traced your hands across the bricks of Hogwarts, his steps faltering as he came closer to you.

“Hi Y/n.” He called out.

You turned to look at him. Draco’s heart felt heavy at the way you looked at him, not any recognition in your eyes. You had once looked at him with such love, then such hate but now you looked at him with nothing. because right now that’s what he was to you, and it broke his heart.

“You.” You said stepping closer. “You were the one talking to Ginny.”

“I wouldn’t really call it talking, she yelled I stood there.”

“Ginny does that a lot.” You shrugged.

“Yeah.” He said.

You spotted the flowers in his hands.

“I’m sorry, who did you lose?”

His hands tightened on the flowers.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You said. “I lost my friend Fred, and my memory. But I don't feel like I lost it since I can't remember ever having it. But I miss Fred.”

He studied every centimeter of your face noting the subtle changes he didn’t notice the last time he saw you as you rambled on about Fred anxiously.

“You.” He said voice wavering. “I lost you.”

You stayed quiet for a second.

“I’m sorry I-“

“don’t know who I am?” He said with a dry laugh. “I was sort of expecting that.”

You didn’t say anything studying his face for anything that sparked a memory in you.

He dug through his jacket pocket pulling out a photo.

His hands were sweating and he tried his best not to touch your hand. Partially because he didn’t want you to feel his sweaty hands and because he feared he would break down at the realization that you were finally here in front of him.

“I’m Draco and you’re my soulmate.” He said

-

AN THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART THE LAST PART WILL BE THE NEXT PART

[writertitan]

Grandfather Clock (III)

pairing: levi x f!reader

word count: 7068 (oops)

themes:  adult f!reader, arranged marriage, multi-part fic, levi is a stubborn asshole at first, no love at first sight here folks

a/n: the final part!! enjoy!!!

Read Part 1 Here

Read Part 2 Here

On the 20th day of Levi’s engagement to you, he found himself tense, frowning, and sitting across a less than pleased Erwin, right in the commander’s office. 

Erwin sat at his desk, deep discontent written all over his face, with his arms folded tightly across his broad chest. 

Levi knew the scolding was coming and cursed himself in his head for being so careless. He hadn’t really meant too much by it. Mike had just been asking him how things were going as they walked down the hall together and the words had just tumbled out. Levi didn’t like talking about his personal life in general, mostly because he had hardly had one prior to getting engaged, but now he was extra wary. 

“Not much to tell. Just thankful she agreed not to have an actual wedding and to prolong it as long as possible.” 

That was all he’d said and he’d said it with a tone of finality that Mike understood well. It was the tone that warned not to push it any farther. 

It was just Levi’s luck that Erwin had rounded the corner as the words left him. The commander had bristled as he processed what Levi had said and then blurted out that he needed to see the shorter man immediately, in his office. 

Levi had never seen Mike hurry off so quickly before. 

And now here he was, tense and waiting for Erwin to lash out at him. 

The words came moments later, but Levi didn’t get yelled at, which made him feel worse. Erwin was quiet, stern, and very open with his disappointment. 

“Is it true? You really asked that of her?” 

“Yes,” Levi sighed, running a hand over his tired face. “I did.” 

“You didn’t even consult me about it. Levi, I hope you know I’m trying to grant you as much freedom as I can in this situation, but this was out of line. I’m sorry, but you don’t have that kind of say.” 

Erwin’s words made Levi wince a little, but he tried to keep a stoic face. He could see that the commander was waiting for him to say something, but Levi didn’t quite know what to say. 

He thought of you for a moment, and thought about how confused he’d been lately, and then looked at Erwin with a hint of a frown. 

“You’ve hardly given us any freedom,” he blurted out, and then cursed himself yet again. He’d used the word “us” instead of “me” and he knew that Erwin would catch wind of that. 

He did, and he even seemed to soften up a bit, raising a brow curiously. 

And then Erwin used you as ammunition. 

“You’ve stripped away any semblance of choice left for her by making her agree to your terms. She has even less freedom than you. Is that what you wanted?” Erwin asked, but the question was more rhetorical than anything. 

Levi’s frown grew deeper. His mind went back to you, how broken you’d looked when he’d said he didn’t want a wedding day, and how he wanted to wait as long as possible to actually be married. And then his mind took him to that day you were feeling unwell, and how that same broken expression appeared when he’d gotten upset with you. 

His chest grew heavy when he realized he had helped in breaking you. 

And even worse, he hadn’t gone back to visit you after that day, when you had fainted. It had spurred too many mixed emotions in him and he had wanted the space to clear his head. And you had confirmed you were still unwell in your most recent letter to him from yesterday. 

But maybe you were lying. Maybe Levi had broken you so much that you wanted to start keeping your distance from him. 

That’s what he wanted, right? 

Is that what you wanted?

Erwin’s unanswered question echoed in his mind. 

If that was what he’d wanted, why did he feel this way, so horrible, after being called out by Erwin? 

“I just don’t know what to do,” Levi finally said, unable to meet Erwin’s gaze. 

Erwin hummed and sat back in his chair, arms now unfolded as he looked at Levi. The conversation had gone way beyond Levi’s little mistake. As much as he wanted to help his friend, there was a reason Erwin had been wandering the halls. He had, in fact, been searching for Levi. And he had, in fact, been wanting to discuss the topic of you. It had been mere coincidence that Erwin had caught Levi’s confession. 

“Talk to her,” Erwin said, eyes on Levi, who was still looking anywhere but at him. “And I’d suggest going today. There was a reason I’ve been looking for you.” 

At that, Levi flickered his eyes to Erwin, a hint of curiosity in them. And, dare Erwin say, even a little bit of worry hid behind the silver. 

“Well, spit it out,” Levi said, already making to stand up. “What happened? Is something wrong?” 

Erwin also stood up, slowly and deliberately, and didn’t know how to answer that. 

“There’s been some...civil unrest recently. Some of the working class citizens have been getting riled up because of some recent unfortunate events with the upper class,” Erwin explained, watching carefully for Levi’s reaction. “Some of my intel has told me there’s talk of a few riots being planned.” 

“What kind of ‘unfortunate events’ are you talking about?” Levi pressed, arms at his side with hands clenched into fists. This didn’t sound good. 

“Seems like your fiancee’s father has been in some bad business deals that affected a lot of his workforce. And he’s got quite the workforce, if you remember,” Erwin murmured, looking a little thoughtful as he tried to gage Levi’s reaction. “I was looking for you to tell you that I’d like for you to go and check on things. I’m not sure how extreme the situation is.” 

Levi was already halfway out of the office and didn’t bother to answer. He was, without a doubt, upset. 

Upset that Erwin didn’t let him know about this immediately. 

Upset that it would take a while to get to you. 

And, curiously, he was upset that he was upset. What the hell was going on with him? 

-

In your parlor room, you were curled up on the sofa and reading your favorite book. It took all your willpower to try not to think about how, just a few days ago, Levi had touched those very same pages. 

He’d kept his distance since then, though you had certainly had some part in that by sending him a note to say you were still sick. It wasn’t true at all and you’d felt almost back to normal the next day, but you couldn’t really face Levi yet. Despite forgiving him and allowing yourself to have a little bit of hope that things would turn out okay for the two of you, it was obvious that Levi was still on the fence with you, and had a very specific opinion about who you were despite not getting to know you. 

You were using this time away from him to think of ways to show him that you weren’t that way at all, and that his impression of you was, truthfully, completely off the mark. 

As the grandfather clock sounded off at noon, it brought you back to reality. You set your book down, not that you’d actually been reading much of it, and sighed when your stomach grumbled. Definitely lunchtime. 

You stood up and stretched, about to walk to the kitchen and bother Chef Erlo when you realized something seemed...off. 

The clock struck noon for a final time and you realized that that was the only sound you could really hear from all over the house. Silence engulfed you when the grandfather clock stopped, and you peered out into the hallway, baffled when you saw absolutely nobody in sight. 

Feeling like you couldn’t break the silence, you stayed quiet as a mouse as you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to hear the usual bustle of noise there for lunch. Maybe that’s where everyone was. It was lunchtime, after all. Had you forgotten it was somebody’s birthday? Sometimes you’d sneak the staff into the servant’s quarters for a bit of a break and have a little birthday celebration during lunch, but you were sure nobody’s big day was today.

But you didn’t make it to the kitchen. As you got closer to the foyer, you could hear the commotion outside, interrupting the eerie silence in your home. Instead of going to check on things, curiosity got the best of you and you ended up peering out the window to see what was going on. A little gasp left your lips when you saw what was outside. 

Hoards of people were at the gates of your home, screaming and shouting profanities as they tried to make their way inside. Your heart sped up at the sight, absolutely terrified at the pure hatred they all wore on their faces. You couldn’t really make out what they were all saying, but you heard the profanities, and you heard your father’s name enough times to know that this was personal. 

The guards situated outside at the gate were pushing back as much as they could, and you even see that some of the Garrison soldiers had come to help out, but the crowd seemed to be growing bigger and bigger by the second. At any moment, it would bubble over and spill past the gates of your home. 

Right to you. 

Once again, after a lifetime of avoiding your father and his business to try and escape it, you were being dragged right into the middle of it instead. 

You had to run. The anger outside was something that was almost tangible; you could feel it weighing heavily in the air even from where you stood inside your home. No doubt that someone would try to hurt you just in the belief that it would hurt your father to know they’d gotten to you. 

For a brief moment, Levi flashed through your mind, and you sincerely regretted lying to him about still feeling unwell when his face popped to the front of your head. Maybe he would have helped you. Maybe not. The anger you could feel from the crowd outside was unfortunately similar to the anger Levi had bestowed upon you just a few days ago. 

As you backed away from the window, you thought of all the different places you could go to hide. So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t register the footsteps sneaking up behind you and gasped when a hand clamped against your mouth to keep you quiet. 

Before you could try and scream, a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Shh, it’s only me. Let’s go.” 

You whirled around, tears of relief springing to your eyes as you hugged Greta tightly. 

“Greta,” you breathed out shakily, pulling away to look at her with wide eyes. “What’s going on?” 

“Let’s not talk here, come on,” she whispered, tugging you towards the servant’s quarters, where you knew the wine cellar was situated. As soon as the door was closed and locked behind the two of you, Greta practically dragged you down the stairs. It was cooler down there and you shivered involuntarily. 

There was dim candlelight at the end of the steps that lit up a narrow hallway, one that led towards a heavy wooden door. Chef Erlo was there holding a candelabra with one hand, a silver key in the other. 

Your tears of relief spilled over at the sight of him. 

“Erlo,” you whimpered, moving to hug him as well. He was just as quick about it as Greta was, gently stepping away from you with a small and sympathetic smile. 

“We’ll get you out of here safely, miss,” he promised you. 

A pang of fear hit you and you looked between Erlo and Greta, hand at your chest as you thought of the worst. 

“And everyone else? Is everyone okay?” you asked them.

From above, you heard glass shattering and heavy thumps. Your heart pounded so hard against your chest that you worried your ribs would crack from the force. The fear you felt in that moment was unparalleled, unmatched by any other situation in your life. You’d never been this scared in your entire life. 

“Everyone is safe. Except for you,” Greta said, and she nodded for Erlo to open the door. He unlocked it and hurried you both inside, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw Erlo wasn’t following. 

“I’m going to lock the door behind me and slip the key under the crack. That should buy you some time,” he said to Greta, avoiding your gaze. 

“What are you talking about? You’re coming with us, it’s not safe here! Something’s happening outside, people are angry and I don’t know why,” you rambled, tearing up again. Greta reached over to squeeze your hand, but everything about it was rushed, too hurried to really be a comfort to you. 

Erlo flashed you another small smile, and then gave you a wink, his crow’s feet prominent as he finally flashed his goofy smile. 

“I’ll be fine, miss. Don’t worry about me. It’s not me they’re after,” he assured you, but it didn’t make you feel any better. 

Chef Erlo was like the father you’d never had. It was impossible to allow him to do this, but Greta held you back as he shut the door and locked it once again, with the key slipping underneath moments later. 

Greta let go of you to swipe it off the ground, and then began to push you forward, nearly in the dark save for cracks of light at the door opposite the room. 

The faint smell of wine permeated the air and you found yourself wishing for a glass to calm your nerves. Greta led you to the door in just a few moments flat, using the same key to unlock it and hurry through with you in tow. 

It was the bulkhead entrance to the wine cellar, where the merchants would come deliver or take some wine. Part of your father’s business. It was where a lot of things were delivered. On the few steps there beneath the wooden doors, there was a maid’s dress and some worn shoes. One look at Greta told you that the new outfit was for you, so you wasted no time in nearly tearing off your dress and kicking off your shoes to put on the much simpler garments and better blend in outside without striking too much attention to yourself. Your current outfit would have been a dead giveaway to your status. 

Greta lifted one of the doors up just enough to peer out cautiously as you changed, making sure it was safe to leave. Once she was sure it was, she nodded to you and lifted the door up quietly, keeping it lifted for you to hop up the short steps and out into the spring afternoon. 

It was cloudy outside, threatening to rain. As if on cue, a crack of thunder sounded and you felt it was remarkably similar to a cliche in your favorite novel; it always rained whenever your favorite character was feeling upset. 

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Greta gripped you by the elbow and tugged you away from the house in a pace that was rushed but not too much that it looked suspicious. Now that you were wearing new clothes, you looked like everyone else outside. There was no real need to rush and risk getting caught. 

Nobody paid the two of you any mind. The real focus was on your house that was currently getting ransacked. 

The sight made your heart sink to your stomach, but your tears had already dried. 

It was true that these people were destroying the only home you’d ever known. It was true that in that moment, you were sure you’d never go back to it. But you just couldn’t find it in you to cry about this. Your tears were reserved for your staff and worrying about their wellbeing. 

Whatever your father had done, it probably deserved this level of outrage. 

Although you were filled to the brim with fear and adrenaline, above all, you felt a peculiar sense of freedom as more and more people pushed their way past the gates of your home to run inside. 

Greta gave you a moment to watch the scene before steering you away with promises to explain everything as soon as she got you to safety. 

The only time tears actually did threaten your eyes again was when Captain Levi’s face pushed its way into your mind once more. 

Maybe you would never see him again. And maybe he’d like that. 

-

Levi was all too familiar with feeling dread settle in his stomach and harden like a rock. He’d experienced it all his life, countless times as he watched comrades die, often such a big part of his nightmares and the reason for his insomnia. 

He didn’t expect to feel that rock in his stomach as he approached your home. Rather, what was left of it. 

But he felt it settle in his stomach, a dread so heavy that he almost had to hunch over, and he looked on in horror as people continued to run in and out of your home. Many people were running out with valuables in their arms. Others were running inside just to destroy everything in sight. 

He was far too late, by the look of things. 

His eyes darted around, a futile attempt to locate you, but of course he didn’t see you anywhere. 

Soldiers and guards were doing what they could, and Levi could see reinforcements marching in, but it was too late. 

It was too late. 

Levi hopped off his horse and pushed past people and soldiers alike as he ran into your home, taking in the sight of broken glass and ruined furniture and banged up walls. 

It was disgusting. 

He went to your room first and only found it ravaged and empty with no signs of life. 

Levi knew he was being crazy. Of course he wasn’t going to just find you there. In fact, the thought of seeing you in the middle of all this would have actually been worse. But not knowing where you were had his stomach in knots. 

As a last resort, he checked the parlor room, where you’d shared an afternoon that had left Levi questioning himself and questioning you. Mostly himself. 

He got there as the grandfather clock chimed at the top of the hour. It was just as ravaged as your room, but curiously enough, he noticed your favorite novel on the ground by where the side table used to be. 

He picked it up and clutched it tightly, and then made a promise. 

He would find you and he would get your book back to you. It was the only possession you had left in the world, he realized, looking around. 

He’d find you. 

He wouldn’t rest until he’d found you. 

-

A cup of tea warmed your hands as silence filled the room of Greta’s mother’s kitchen. 

The two women stared at you with so much sympathy, and so much worry, that it made you feel loved and yet also a little small at the same time. 

Greta had just finished explaining everything to you. 

Your father had been atrocious, and had taken advantage of his employees. He was in protective custody because he’d anticipated this riot to happen. Nobody knew where your mother was. It was a miracle that Greta and Erlo had managed to help you and everyone else out before you’d gotten hurt. Or killed. 

And now you didn’t know what would happen next. 

Your spirits, already low, dimmed even more at the thought of Chef Erlo. You desperately hoped he was okay, and hopefully he was. After all, he’d been correct: nobody was trying to hurt him. Only you and your family. 

“Are you sure everybody made it out safely?” you whispered to Greta, who immediately nodded. 

“Everyone’s been aware of some of the...tensions around town,” she explained. “We all had an exit plan in the works, just didn’t realize we’d have to implement it so soon.” 

You flashed a brief and sad smile, nodding once as you took a sip of your tea. 

“Thank you for getting everyone out safely first. It means the world to me.” 

In your mind, you were just as responsible for your father’s sins as he was. To think you didn’t even have a clue of what was going on. It was embarrassing. 

As if reading your mind, Greta’s mother, May, reached forward to squeeze your arm reassuringly. 

“It’s not your fault, darling,” she murmured. “It wasn’t your place to know.” 

You sighed softly and kept your eyes on your tea, frowning to yourself. It was true that you had basically been forced to be cooped up in the house, and now you were thinking there was a clear reason behind it now. You hardly had much say in your day to day schedule, especially after getting engaged to Captain Levi. Still, it didn’t feel good to be so in the dark. 

And the thought of Captain Levi sent your heart aflutter. Did he know? Had he been aware of this the whole time? Was this part of the reason for your arrangement? 

Slowly, you picked up your gaze from your tea to settle on Greta, biting the inside of your cheek before asking the question you were dreading to ask. 

“What happens now?” 

She didn’t look too sure either as she pondered your question, finally settling for shrugging her shoulders. 

“I don’t know, miss,” she answered honestly. “I hate to say it, but it depends on your father. He and your mother will start looking for you once they realize you’re missing.” 

The thought made you nauseous. Despite such a horrible outcome of your day, that peculiar feeling of freedom had been what kept you going. There was some sort of thrill attached to it. 

You realized it was achingly similar to the hope you felt for your arrangement for Levi. The chance of things looking up, turning around. 

All this hope and nothing to show for it. 

Now you were hopeless. 

-

News had gotten to Erwin quickly. Levi saw the commander ride in with other squad leaders as he helped beat down and arrest some of the rowdier citizens at your home. He hated to be there and wanted to go off and find you more than anything, but someone there had to have seen you, or seen what happened to you. 

So far, nobody seemed to remember seeing you. In fact, some people had sworn to him that the house had been empty of people the entire time. Not a soul in the home at all. 

When Erwin stepped past the gates, Levi had never wanted to pummel him so badly. Instead, he shoved a badly beaten merchant towards his commander with a growl, eyes nearly feral as he found the calm blue ones that he hated more than anything at the moment. 

“You said there was civil unrest. You didn’t say there was an entire fucking mob,” he snapped. 

Erwin remained calm, casually stepping over the merchant to get closer to Levi. 

“Seems I was deceived,” he admitted, looking around. “Her father kept me in the dark. I had no idea about any of this. But I suppose you’ll be pleased to hear that I’m calling off the deal. We can’t tarnish the Scouts’ reputation even more by doing business with this family.” 

Levi’s body went cold at the news. 

Just a couple of weeks ago, he would have felt nothing but pure relief. Now, he felt nothing but pure dread. 

“What about…?” 

Levi couldn’t even say your name. It caught at the back of his throat and he struggled to breathe. He tried his best to remain as stoic as always, but Erwin knew him so well, and could see the concern at the edges of Levi’s gaze. 

“There’s not much protection we can offer her, being her father’s daughter. She’s under his control,” Erwin reminded him. “Do you know where she is? I heard she’s declared missing.” 

Levi nodded once to confirm, his worry amplifying at Erwin’s words. 

He couldn’t protect you. Not while you were still affiliated with your father. 

“People are saying that nobody was in the house,” Levi said, giving the commander a rundown of events. “I did a quick search, didn’t find any of the staff. No one was around.” 

Erwin hummed a little, hands behind his back as he took in the sight of the damaged house in front of him. 

“No surprise there. Our man of the hour is already in protective custody, having predicted this well before anyone else, and his wife was visiting with a friend, and now they’re all in protective custody as well. It’s just your ex-fiancee that we’re having trouble locating. Perhaps she’s with her staff.” 

How stupid of him. Levi hadn’t really thought of that possibility yet. He’d been so focused on finding you, assuming the worst, that he hadn't taken the time to really think it through enough to realize that you were missing along with the staff. 

Erwin was already five steps ahead of them. 

“Some of the scouts are off to find the staff members that don’t live here in-house. One of them is bound to know where she is.” 

Levi couldn’t help the small sigh of relief that left him, but he still felt useless if he wasn’t doing more to help. Without another word to Erwin, he marched off to do another quick search around the entire perimeter. 

Some medics had come onto the scene as well and he was surprised to see a couple of them towards the back of the house, dragging someone out of the cellar. Levi had admittedly not really looked down there, knowing all there was, was food storage and wine cellar that someone had told him was all cleared out by now. 

A familiar old man was getting dragged out and treated. He was badly beaten, bruised from head to toe, and his breathing was raspy and uneven. 

Levi knew him to be a staff member and his heart skipped a beat. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was kneeling beside the old man, shaking him to get his attention despite the angry protests of a medic. 

The old man opened his eyes and grimaced, but his face grew soft at the sight of Levi. 

“Captain Levi,” he greeted him in a hoarse voice. “You’re a little late, don’t you think?” 

“Where is she?” Levi asked, voice soft. “Do you know?” 

“I know,” the man confirmed, nodding slowly as his eyes closed. “Greta...Greta took her. She’s...with Greta’s mother. But don’t know where...she lives.” 

Greta. Levi knew that name. It was the name of one of the maids. You looked to be friends with her. 

“Thank you,” he said, very sincere, before standing back up. More determined than ever, he made a beeline for his horse, a plan of action already formulating in his mind. He could make do with the information given to him. It was all he needed. 

He was going to find you. 

-

The sun hung low in the sky as May and Greta made up Greta’s old bed for you. 

You had insisted on sleeping anywhere else, even the floor, but Greta had already set her mind on sharing a bed with her mother. 

“I shared a bed with one of the other maids all the time, whenever we felt like it,” she told you. “I actually like it. It’s nice having another person there with you.” 

You still felt a little guilty but stayed silent, and opted instead to watch the sun lower through the window of Greta’s childhood bedroom after being shooed off. 

Greta and her mother chattered amongst themselves and you didn’t have the heart to join in just yet. You felt so drained after the day’s events that you couldn’t muster up the energy they had. 

What kept you so anxious was also the thought of having to stay under your father’s thumb. 

It was maddening to know that after everything, he still had your life in his hands. To be a highborn lady was to be in shackles. 

A plan was starting to formulate in your mind, one where you could fake your death and run away and find work as a maid or maybe even a governess. Greta could help and confirm that you’d been taken, never to be seen again. You could grab your clothes that you’d discarded, if they were still around, and maybe douse them in animal blood or something, to really sell it. 

But your plan was cut short with a pounding at the front door downstairs. The knocking was so intense that all three of you froze and looked between each other, fear prickling your spines. 

When the door clearly sounded like it was trying to be opened, May sprang into action and ran downstairs, which kickstarted your adrenaline. You ran after her, afraid for her possibly getting hurt, reaching out for her to try and stop her from going any farther. 

“May, no!” you hissed, eyes on the front door that was now in view. Someone was slamming into it, the lock jiggling unsteadily, until it finally gave in. 

You were paralyzed in fear as the door flew open, but fear gave way to shock at the sight of Captain Levi at the entrance, looking frazzled. You would have never predicted you’d ever see him as anything other than composed or angry. 

As soon as your eyes locked, you ran to him. 

“Captain Levi!” 

He stopped you before you could throw your arms around him and, at first, you felt embarrassed by it, taking it as a rejection. 

It wasn’t until he started examining you, hands lifting and twisting your arms and turning your face this way and that, that you felt your heart warm up. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked. He was cupping your face, holding your jaw familiar as his eyes scanned your face for any signs of injury, and that frazzled look he held only softened when his eyes finally met yours. 

You shook your head slowly, keeping his gaze, hands shyly reaching up to cover his over your jaw. 

“I’m not hurt,” you whispered. “Just scared.” 

Levi frowned and reluctantly let go of your face, but his hands didn’t travel far. He rested them on your shoulders while your hands gently gripped his forearms, the two of you in your own little bubble. 

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he promised you, sounding so earnest. “Nobody can hurt you while I’m here.” 

Your bottom lip quivered, emotional at the thought of him willingly protecting you, but also emotional at the more sinister situation at hand. 

“My father can,” you told him, squeezing his forearms as the words left your mouth. “Greta says he’ll be looking for me soon. I can’t escape him.” 

Levi’s eyes hardened at that, grip also tightening on your shoulders, before he groaned and stepped away from you to run a hand over his face. 

“Erwin said the same thing to me,” he admitted, pacing back and forth. He briefly looked towards Greta and her mother, then to the now broken front door, and blankly stared at them before muttering, “I’ll fix that.” 

He turned back to you, arms crossed, as he took on a look of deep concentration. It was only there for a few moments before he snapped out of it, holding your gaze as he seemed to come to a conclusion. 

“You can’t be under your father’s control once you’re married,” he pointed out. 

At first, you didn’t understand. You raised a brow, a little peeved he was bringing it up, and nodded once. 

“I suppose so…,” you agreed, a hint of a frown on your face. “But I’m assuming we won’t be getting married after this, so I’m kind of shit out of luck.” It was the first time you’d really sworn like that in front of Levi. In front of anyone. It was nice. 

Levi tensed up a little and broke his eye contact with you to look away, and you could have sworn he looked a little flustered. There was a hint of pink at the tips of his ears, which shocked you.

“What?” you pressed, also feeling a bit of heat creep into your face. 

This wasn’t happening. No way this was happening. 

Levi hadn’t wanted to marry you even when it was basically required of him. 

Your hopeless romantic little heart was just playing tricks on you. He wasn’t possibly going to suggest… 

“I gave my word and I don’t intend on going back on it,” he said, still not looking at you, ears still pink. “Got any better ideas?” 

“Captain Levi…,” you began, but then trailed off, not knowing what to say, until finally you managed out, “You don’t have to do this.” 

He scoffed a little, eyes finally flickering back to you. Tentatively, he stepped forward until he was right in front of you again. You stayed perfectly still as he lifted a hand to place it on top of your head, giving you a small pat before ruffling up your hair. 

“I have something for you,” he said suddenly, taking his hand away to reach into the pocket of his coat. 

And then your favorite novel was in your hands, a little more crumpled up than usual but basically intact. 

Tears sprang to your eyes and you hugged the book to your chest gratefully, looking to Levi with nothing but adoration. 

At that moment, it was all you owned in the world. You didn’t even own the clothes on your back. 

“That was really nice,” you choked out, gazing down at the book again with a small smile. 

Levi stepped forward again, closing the distance between you as he rested a hand on your shoulder again. 

“Let me protect you,” he said, tone filled with an air of finality that you couldn’t argue with. “I know I don’t have to.” 

He didn’t have to say the actual words; you understood what he meant. 

I want to. 

-

Marriage was all about compromise. 

In the end, Levi didn’t get to prolong his nuptials, since marrying you had to be done quickly. However, it also had to be done in secret. So, at the very least, you figured he at least got half of his wishes respected. 

The moment the ink was dry on the certificate, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You shed your maiden name to gain a new surname, fully protected from your father now and fully backed by the Survey Corps. It was your 30th day of knowing Levi. Your 1st day of being married. 

You took in a deep breath as Erwin took the document from you to sign as a witness, and you turned to Levi with a small and timid smile, which he actually tried to return. It was brief, but it was appreciated. And when he lifted his hand to pat your head affectionately, you melted a little.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a big wedding like you wanted,” he murmured, eyes staring at you with a hint of remorse. “I should have never made you agree to that before.” 

A half-smile tugged at one corner of your mouth and you shook your head, nudging your shoulder to his playfully. 

“I never really wanted to have a big wedding,” you admitted to him. “I just wanted to have a special day for myself. And for my husband, of course. Didn’t have to be a big thing. It just needed to be special.” 

Levi seemed to lighten up at that, giving another brief smile before murmuring, “That’s a relief.” 

“What do you mean?” you asked, but he didn’t respond, choosing instead to stand up and offer a hand to help you on your feet as well. 

You smoothed down the cream dress Greta had so kindly let you borrow and followed Levi out the door, head held a little higher now that you were an official Ackerman and nothing else. Instead of going to Commander Erwin’s office to go over a few next steps like originally planned, you found yourself following Levi outside. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, puzzled, but Levi scoffed a little and turned to look at you from over his shoulder. 

“If you could just be a little patient, I promise you’ll find out soon enough,” he said. 

It was a beautiful day, you had to admit. The spring temperature was perfect and you basked in the sunlight, feeling freer than you’d ever felt before. 

You stepped onto the grass in the courtyard, eyes towards the sky, and it wasn’t until you heard several people clear their throat that you tilted your head down to take a look. 

Your heart nearly stopped as you saw Erlo, Greta, May, and Charlie, and some of Levi’s friends, sitting on the grass, a spread of what looked like a marvelous lunch in front of them. 

Shouts of congratulations were passed around and you lit up at the sight, heart feeling full as you stumbled over while dragging Levi along. 

You turned to him, eyes bright and excited, still not quite understanding. 

“What is this?” you asked, looking between your bubble of friends and your brand new spouse. 

Levi looked a little uncomfortable, but in that cute way, and Greta beat him to the punch with the answer. 

“It’s your wedding day, so we’re celebrating, of course!” she laughed, then nodded towards Levi with a cunning grin. “It was your husband’s idea.” 

Levi’s entire face flushed at the term but he also looked murderous at being found out. 

You grinned at him, feeling warmed at his gesture, and you made a mental note to pull him aside later for a real thank you. 

At that moment, you made do by sneaking a kiss to his cheek, fully appreciating the way he got flustered. 

-

Erwin had made up a new room for you at base and, after a full day’s worth of celebrating your wedding day, you were ready to fall into bed. 

The room was right next to Levi’s, which you appreciated. It seemed funny, almost, since of course spouses typically shared a room, but under these circumstances, that wasn’t very likely. 

You cared for Levi and you could see that he at least cared for you in some ways, but those feelings would need to be nurtured with time. 

The two of you were in front of your bedroom door, with you yawning up a storm, and Levi grumbling about getting you to bed. 

You burst into your room and made a beeline for your bed, not bothering to really look around at your new room or even change out of your clothes. As soon as you were on the bed, you felt your drowsiness start to overtake you. 

Before you passed out, you peeked over at Levi, who was getting situated at a desk. 

“Aren’t you gonna sleep?” you asked, yawning again, and Levi turned to look at you briefly. 

“Not for a while,” he answered finally. 

You frowned at that but didn’t argue with him, your heart bubbling over with so many questions and feelings that you just couldn’t hold in anymore. 

“Do you still dislike me?” you blurted out, face heating up at your lack of filter. 

Levi raised a brow, pointedly looking towards the new ring on your finger. Then, his gaze softened, and he leaned back in the chair he sat in. 

“No,” he answered. “And I was wrong for judging you before. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance sooner.” 

You stayed quiet for a moment, but kept your eyes on Levi, no matter how hard it was. 

“Do you think you’ll fall in love with me one day, now that we’re married?” 

You couldn't stop that question from tumbling out either, but you were too curious to feel embarrassed. 

Levi’s ears flushed pink, a cute new trait you were catching onto. He looked away from you briefly, clearly trying to find the right words, and he took so long to respond that you felt your heart start to sink. 

But then he stood from his seat and moved to kneel beside the bed, a hand reaching up to smooth some hair out of your face.

“Let me focus on protecting you first,” he said. 

His eyes were the softest they’d ever been. They gave you another answer. 

“I’m going to love you,” you promised him. You still couldn’t admit that you were actively falling in love. Not to him, not right now. But another time. 

“I don’t deserve that, after how I acted,” he whispered. 

“I’ll always forgive you,” you whispered back. “And I’m going to love you.” 

Levi moved his hand from your head to tuck you into the sheets a little better, avoiding your gaze. Neither one of you said anything for a minute, a comfortable silence falling between you like that afternoon in the parlor room. 

As you began to drift off, Levi’s soft voice filled your ears with one final promise. One that was meant more for him than for you. 

“I’ll figure out how to love.” 

You were too tired to notice how the sheets smelled like Levi. You were too tired to realize that the room was clearly already lived in and had typical possessions of a squad captain, from ODM gear to a desk clearly stacked up with documents. 

You’d been too tired to remember that your bedroom door was the right one and not the left one. You’d been too tired to notice that you’d opened the left door. 

Levi was too besotted by you to correct your mistake. 

Somewhere, a grandfather clock chimed as midnight struck. 

[forever-rogue]

17 on the angst section of list #2 for whiskey please 🥺

Anything for you, my love 🥺💕 Please enjoy...and ugh...angst time?

Prompt: “Are you upset with me?”

Agent Whiskey x Fem!Reader ; warnings: angst

Pedro Characters Masterlist 

»»————-　♡　————-««

It had been a while since you'd heard from him. Too long. Hours too long. It was supposed to be a simple mission - easy in and easy out. But here you were, alone, worried and waiting - waiting, waiting, waiting. 

You'd busied yourself with cleaning the apartment you shared. When that was done, you'd set about asking dinner, even going out of your way to make Jack's favorites - including dessert. But even that didn't take too long and soon enough your mind was wandering. Every dark thought that you had pushed to the recesses of your mind started to bubble to the surface.

What if something went wrong? What if Jack was hurt? What if the mission was compromised? What if -

No. No. No.

You weren't going to think about that.

Sighing heavily, you padded to the bathroom in order to take a bath. Maybe that would take your mind off of things. Probably not, but hell, it was worth a try. 

Turning on the tap, you made the water as warm as you could tolerate before filling it up with bubbles and oils. This particular one was your favorite; Jack had bought it for you on a mission in France. With that thought brought front and center you huffed at yourself. 

Stripping down and discarding your clothes on the floor, you quickly slipped into the comfort of the warm water. An audible moan slipped past your lips as you submerged your entire body, remaining under the water under you could no longer hold your breath. 

Breaking through the water, you laid against the back of the tub and stared at the ceiling. Physically, your body felt relieved, the ache of the day slowly leaving your body, but mentally, you were still buzzing like crazy.

What would you do if something happened to Jack? If something happened to him you would ever forgive yourself. If he-

"Fuck," you groaned at yourself. Running a hand over your tired face, you quickly formulated a plan. Well, it wasn't as much of a plan as a rash idea. But at this point you needed something to cling onto.

You'd texted and called Jack throughout the afternoon and everything had gone unanswered. But you wanted - needed - answers. And you'd be damned if you weren't going to get them. 

You hastily stood up and stepped out of the tub, almost slipping and falling on the water that had sloshed out on the tile floor. It didn't matter though, as long as you got what you needed nothing else mattered.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You practically stormed into the Statesman Headquarters, dressed in sweats and an oversized hoodie, hair still messy and damp from your bath. No doubt something akin to a mad woman, but right now you didn't care. 

"Ginger!" it was getting later and the building was quiet, but you practically shouted at her, causing her to almost fall from her seat. She clutched at her heart as she settled down and gave you a wide eyed look, "where's Jack? Have you heard from him? Do you know if he's okay?"

"He's fine, honey," she promised, swallowing nervously as you gave her a curious look. If he was fine...why...why hadn't you been the first to know? 

"I've been trying to call him and text him all day and...I-I-I haven't heard back from him," you pouted slightly as you wondered what on earth could have caused such a mishap, "Ginger...what's going on?"

"Jack got back a little bit ago," her voice was soft as her eyes flicked down the hall and in the direction of his office. She wasn't normally like, all nervous and quiet, and you could tell there was something she wasn't telling you, "he's probably just catching up on a few things before coming home to surprise you."

"Ginger," her name off your tongue was low and predatory as you slowly took a step back in the direction of his office. She stood up and opened her mouth to say something but nothing but silence met your ears, "what are you hiding?"

"Don't-" and with that singular word, you dashed down the hall, wanting to know once and for all what the hell was going on with everyone.

As soon as his office came into view, you could see the outline of his figure through the softly frosted glass. A smile started to tug on your features when you realized he was actually alive and well. But your fleeting happiness came to a crashing halt when you saw he wasn't alone.

No - there was another figure, this one noticeably smaller and feminine in appearance next to his. Or rather, wrapped up in his arms as he kissed her. You stood there in silent horror as your heart dropped. 

It was just a kiss right? But then...why was he lifting her on his desk, as he has done to you many times in the past? Why did he keep kissing her? Why did he allow her to strip off his jacket? Why was he reached for the zipper of her dress? Why-

"Honey…" Ginger's voice was soft as she grabbed your hand and started to pull you away. Tears were streaming down your face as you stood there frozen, a few small whimpers escaping your lips. Eventually you gave in and let her pull you away.

"You knew," it wasn't a question - rather a biting accusation. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry and completely break down. The beautiful, glittering ring on your left ring finger, only there for a few weeks at this point, suddenly seemed to weigh you down, “you knew and you didn’t say anything. You let me walk in and see that. H-how long?”

“I know it seems bad,” she seemed genuinely upset as you looked at her, your voice cracking with each word until you were almost broken, “but I-I swear I’ve never seen him with another woman or man before. H-he said she was here for business. I didn’t think...I didn’t…”

“Do you mean it?” an ugly sob racked your body as you tried to figure out if it was possible that this was some sort of business venture, that perhaps this was still some odd part of the mission. But even though you prided yourself on being an eternal optimist, you knew this wasn’t what it was. No, despite what the world may or may not have known, Jack had always - always - promised that he would never kiss, touch, or bed another in furtherance of work, a mission, anything. He hadn’t been lying then...or perhaps he had been the entire time, “Ginger, please tell me you mean it. I can’t have my heart broken again.”

“I swear it,” she promised and you could tell she meant it. Either this was the first time, and he’d been careless in not getting caught, or it had been a time thing in a slew of many, and he just happened to be careless for once. You nodded slowly before moving to push past her, “I’m so sorry…”

“Me too,” you whispered as you left without another word, not even bothering to hide the fact that you were sobbing. Your whole world was slowly crashing down around your shoulders; each step away from the building was a fateful reminder that nothing would be the same. 

All you wanted to do was go home and forget; forget that you’d seen anything, forget that Jack had betrayed you, forget that anything from your seemingly idyllic life was out of place. 

But he was everywhere, in everything. From the pictures that greeted you as soon as you walked into your apartment to the touches of decor that were pointedly him, to the clothes that hung in your closet, to the bedsheets that smelled like him. Everything. 

In a fit of rage, you grabbed a few of the pictures off the wall and smashed them into a hundred, million tiny pieces onto the floor. Soon enough, the images of the two of you were distorted by the tiny shards of glass - or perhaps it was the tears that you kept blinking back. 

Thoroughly exhausted and wanting to sleep this day away, praying you’d wake up and find it was all a dream, you tore the blankets and sheets and pillows off the bed and threw them into a pathetic heap on the floor. At least his smell didn’t linger on the mattress. But before you were satisfied, you went into the closet and followed suit with his clothes, refusing to let yours rest next to his any longer. 

Maybe it was rash - dramatic and immature - but you didn’t care. Jack had broken the one rule, the one promise, he swore he would always keep. He had been a good man, an honorable man, and you thought you could always trust him. Now you just had one lingering question left.

Where did the lies start and stop?

Before you dragged your aching bones to the bare mattress, you pulled off the engagement ring and set it on the kitchen countertop, right where he would easily see it. 

You were a believer in second chances, in giving people the benefit of the doubt but this...this was exactly what it appeared to be. You knew that deep down. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was dark when Jack came home, not that he had been expecting you to be up and waiting for him. It was nearing three in the morning and he knew you to work that day. The crunch underneath his boots caught him off guard and he quickly flipped on the light switch to see what the disturbance was. 

A frown crossed his features when he saw that it was several photographs of the two; his heart leapt into his throat as he worried that something had happened or someone had broken in. 

But no - nothing else looked out of place, and the door had been locked and the windows were closed. No signs of any type of break in. Huffing lightly, he stepped further inside, stripping off his boots once he was past the glass shards, a gleaming from the kitchen caught his eye. His brow furrowed as he walked over and saw that it was...your engagement ring. 

His heart raced as he swallowed down the lump in his throat. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What was going on?

Padding quietly down the hallway, he nervously pushed open the door to your bedroom, and spied you sleeping, curled up in a ball, with no blanket or pillows. As he stepped inside, he almost tripped over the mess of sheets and clothes on the floor. 

Oh no.

The door creaked slightly, causing you to wake up from your slight slumber. You hadn’t really been sleeping, not much anyways, The little bit of reprieve you’d found were plagued with nightmares and bad dreams.  You sat up slowly, hunched over and pathetic as you wiped at your eyes. 

“Sugar...are you upset with me?”

“How long Jack?” your throat was dry and scratchy as you stared directly at him, trying to read his body language. It was dark, but the light was filtering in behind him and casting him in an odd haze. He stiffened immediately when he realized you knew. 

“You don’t-”

“How long Jack?” you repeated, this time more firmly and with more conviction, “was she the first? Or another in a long line of many?”

“Listen you have to-”

“Answer the question, sugar,” every word was filled with venom as you wished he could scream and shout or something - and tell you that you were mistaken and that there really was a truthful explanation for what you had witnessed, “was it for work? Because I will still be pissed because we agreed that it would never come to that, but at least what I would understand. Please tell me that’s what it was.”

“I…” he started and quickly cut him off. He wished he could lie to you and tell you it was for work. Gods, he had already been lying to you, but for some reason he couldn’t do it anymore. You nodded as the tears streamed down your face, “I love you. I really do, and you’re the only one I truly want. Please understand that, sugar.”

“I wish I could believe you,” your voice was a small, pathetic thing, “I really do. Because I loved you - I still do. I thought...all this time, all these years, that we were building a future - our future - together. I know things haven’t been easy for you, Jack, I know. But I thought...I thought this one thing I could trust you with. It was the only thing I asked of you.”

“I love you, that is one thing that is true,” he tried to take a step closer, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“No, you don’t,” you whispered, “if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have done this. To lie to me, to sneak around. How many others were there? How long? You know, it even would have hurt less if you’d say something like hey, I want to have sex with other people or hey, can we try this or that. But to not say anything and do this? That’s the worst. When were you going to tell me? We were supposed to get married, Jack. Married.”

“I know,” he took in a long rattling breath, “I...I wish I had a good answer for you, but you have to-”

“The fact that you have nothing to say for yourself, tells me everything I need to know,” you spat at him, “I wish I knew what it was. Was it me? W-was...was I not enough for you?”

“You are everything-”

“Yeah?” you asked bitterly as he nodded, “then why did you do this Jack? Why? Why? Please just say something. Anything.”

“Sugar…”

“Don’t,” it was a soft, broken whisper as you shook your head, “don’t ever call me that again. Just get out. Please. Just leave.”

“Listen, you have to do-”

“I have to do nothing, Jack Daniels,” you laughed bitterly, “but you need to leave. Just go. I...you can come and get your things when I’m at work. I just...I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Okay,” he agreed quietly, turning around to head, lingering in the doorway for a moment, “I am sorry, you know.”

“Sorry for what you did, or sorry I found out?” he remained silent at your question as you shook your head, “just go Jack.”

“I love you…”

“Just go,” you cried softly, “get out and never look back. I never want to see you again.”

“Sugar-”

“Get out,” it wasn’t filled with emotions or tears, no - that’s not what broke his heart further, it was that fact you sounded so empty, so hollow, “goodbye Jack Daniels.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[nincompoopydoo]

LOVE IS STRANGE

PAIRING: Poe Dameron x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k SUMMARY: The union of Ireca and Mohash may seem a typical cliche of love in comparison to your depressingly lonely state, but when a certain poster boy pilot emerges during the celebration, you wonder if love works in other underlying ways. A/N: I found this in my google docs, first written about a year ago. so, wohoo i present to you my first ever poe dameron content, i think? he's so charming and carelessly beautiful. please leave a comment and tell me what you think or what else you'll like to see from me 💖 gif by @john-seed from this gifst WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, space swearing. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

Love is strange. Delicate yet fierce. So forceful that it manages to seep through the cracks created by bombs and gunfire of war. Unexpected at times, appearing out of nowhere. Yet, it’s beautiful because it brings those with beautiful hearts and minds together, entangled in the constant dance of intimacy and devotion.

It’s what Ireca and Mohash have.

Ireca was from the Logistic division, a mechanic herself and your colleague. She was to be married to her long-time lover, Mohash, a flight engineer for the Cobalt Squadron. As far as cliches go, wartime love falls along the lines of a romance cliche. Yet, war was all you’ve known. It’s what everyone has ever known. It’s common to develop some kind of a feeling other than the constant emotions during battle—fondness, the feeling of falling in love with someone. It’s truly what we stay alive for.

Maybe that’s why you hate it so much. The absence of the feeling that everyone describes as so fucking amazing that it completes you. You feel empty most of the time. It’s definitely the reason why you put all your effort into fixing things you can rather than complicated problems and issues that continue to reside in your mind, especially in the wake of midnight.

You find yourself sitting by the makeshift bar, tucked away from the crowd of friends and colleagues. There’s music playing, the sound of drums, and the seven-string hallikset reminds you of your brief visit to Naboo three cycles ago. You’re nursing a warm cup of something that tastes closer to acid water than alcohol.

Ireca emerges from the crowd with flowers in her braided hair. She approaches you with a bright smile and calls out your name wistfully. You shoot a strained smile her way, feeling the bags under your eyes weigh a little more. “What are you doing here all by yourself, huh?” she asks, leaning against the bar with a gentle pat on your shoulder.

“I’m just really tired. Last night was rough. Plus, I’m behind schedule.” you sighed heavily, running your fingers through your hair. She flashed you a smile of sympathy as you continued, “I’m sorry, Ireca. Don’t let me ruin your night. Go, have fun.”

She raises an eyebrow as you take another sip from your cup.

"Go. I'm sure you don't want to miss Mohash's special performance." You gesture to a drunk Mohash, who seemed to be searching for the woman. Ireca merely laughed. "Oh, it sure is going to be special." With a gentle touch to your back and wave, you watch her make her way into the swarm of bodies. You're left alone once again.

You’re still trying to figure out how Mohash even got hold of any sort of alcohol and managed to smuggle it into the base. Someone must have nicked it during one of the previous missions in the Mid Rim.

You rub your eyes, half-awake at this point; your cup is placed beside you as you rest your head against your folded arms on the table. Your mind is in a daze and incapable of irrational thought, deciding it would be best to just camp out here, by the makeshift bar, for the night. You were too tired to drag yourself all the way to your quarters, which felt like miles away, in the first place.

As sleep began to weigh heavy upon your eyelids, you suddenly felt a sharp tap on your shoulder. A soft groan escaped your lips as you shifted your head, still resting on your arms, just enough to peek at your sleep intruder.

It’s Poe Dameron. Commander and Black Leader. Incredibly talented, confident, and effortlessly handsome.

Ugh, you hate this guy.

Yet, you don’t feel so tired anymore.

“Are you drunk?” There’s amusement in his voice with a tinge of mockery. It made you realize the stun you were pulling. Classic Dameron. It was supposed to be a happy ceremony, but it was truly Ireca’s fault for manipulating you into coming tonight. Parties, events, and social gatherings were never right up your alley. You prefer spending time with machinery and your greasy hands.

Poe’s eyes are gleaming under the fluorescent lights, filled with concern, but you spot the smugness in his emerging smile. A flash of a thought, you kind of want to feel his lips on yours. The image immediately stings. You want to gag.

Poe is irritating, arrogant, and careless. Not charming. Nope, definitely not charming.

You straighten yourself, trying to shake off the burning image, shoving it to the back of your head. You lift your head, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin on the heel of your hand. “You actually think I’ll even touch that bantha shit?”

Tearing your eyes away from Poe, you reach for your cup only to realize it was empty. He casts you a look. Your eyes shoot daggers with an extended pointer finger his way, “Don’t you dare say anything, flyboy.”

Poe raises his palms in defense, lips pursing. “Wasn’t going to.”

You catch a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, one hand discreetly reaching under his tawny leather jacket. Then, a bottle of Corellian whiskey emerges, shining under the lights of the Resistance hangar. Your face lights up at the recognition of the bottle, memories of your rare trips to Corellia, sharing whiskey drinks with your colleagues. It was the only planet you’d been to ever since you joined the Resistance.

You’ve only tasted Corellian whiskey once because of how expensive it is. You’ll happily get drunk to that in a heartbeat. Drink the worry and sorrow away with the lingering taste of frankly exorbitant whiskey.

Like a child with grabby hands, you reach for the bottle, but as your fingers brush his, Poe quickly lifts it to the air and away from you. He smacks your hand away. You whine, feeling a little lightheaded. The contents of the mysterious drink are starting to kick in.

What the blinkin' mradhe muck was in that drink?

“What do you want from me? It’s not like I have a drinking problem.”

He’s giving you that look like he’s judging you, but with a hint of amusement at the slight tug of the corner of his mouth. “You definitely have a drinking problem, but... i'll let you drink this on one condition.”

“For kriff’s sake,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, glancing away. “I’m not doing any weird wacky favors for you, Dameron.”

He scoffs, expression bewildered. “Hey, I don’t ask for weird wacky favors,” He articulates his words with a defensive tone, index finger stretched to your face. You simply smack it away as Poe clicks his tongue and continues to clarify his proposition. “All I’m asking is for you to fix my ship.”

Your wide-eyed gaze flies to him, shaking your head furiously. “Oh, no, no. No. Never in a million cycles. Never in a million millennials. Nuh-uh—”

“Hey, quit being dramatic. It’s a simple job.”

Your eyes grow even wider, voice raising. “A simple job? You fly that ship of yours like we have hundreds of spare ones. I’m not putting all my time and effort into fixing a lost cause.”

“But you haven’t even—”

“No. I’m not fixing your ship, and that’s final.”

Poe blinks and you’re back to fussing over your empty cup. The chatter of the crowd grows louder as a group of pilots of the Cobalt Squadron began rendering verses of an unknown traditional drinking song to your ears. You steal a look to only find Ireca and Mohash amidst a dance, tangled in each other's arms.

He eyes closely, noticing the turn of your lips, trained eyes deem melancholy. He knows the face of a loner very well—usually recruits with lost family and homes. They enlist in a mass community of freedom fighters for the restoration of good in the universe, and to finally feel a sense of familiarity and belonging. He doesn’t know much about you but he knows you don’t truly have anyone to depend on but yourself. It’s the reason why you’re constantly fierce.

Poe clears his throat, shifting closer to you as he watches the way you carry your gradual gaze to hold his. They then flit to the space between the two of you, raised eyebrows acknowledging the weird close proximity of his presence to yours.

“Look, you’re the best mechanic there ever was and probably ever will be. So, fix my ship, and you get to have this Corellian beauty. All of it.” He sways the bottle in the air, but you don’t look at it.

“You know, that’s bribery.”

“Yes, and it’s working.”

You scoff. “No, it isn’t.”

Poe laughs. “Yes, it is. I can see it in your eyes.”

Another scoff, you look fully aggravated. “How dense do you think I am?”

“Oh, very, but let’s not get into that.”

Bickering was the only language the two of you spoke fluently when you found yourselves tangled in a conversation with one another. Thrown insults were spoken lies—saying you hate each other when you know that isn’t true. Well, at least you don’t mean it and you hoped Poe didn’t either.

You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. For once, kindness and acceptance seem to be the easiest route.

A sigh passes your lips as you blink up to the ceiling, sending a silent prayer for blessings from the Maker above. “You’re right. I am dense. Truly dense. So, yeah. Okay. I’ll fix that stupid X-Wing of yours.”

Poe blinks, dumbfounded. “Wait, really?”

With a roll of your eyes, they meet his very own wide ones. “Yes, really. Only because you complimented me. Now, hand me that Corellian whiskey before I change my mind.”

He then makes a sound that resonates between a cough and a pleasantly surprised laugh, eyes crinkling with delight. Poe happily and absentmindedly passes the whiskey to you, still reacting like your agreement is some sort of object of ridicule in the best way possible.

“Wow—Maker, you have no idea what kind of trouble you’re saving me from. If the General ever found out—man, pfft. Thank you. Thank you so much—”

A swift and unexpected motion, he is reaching you, palms clasp and either side of your face, and plants a quick peck on the side of your left temple.

Poe isn’t thinking straight.

There you are, mid-swig, lips so close to the rim of the bottle with eyes so wide. You steal a steady glance at the pilot whose expression seems to reflect yours. His hands are still on your cheeks. He’s unbelievably close to you and he’s staring with that stupid look of his.

‘Maker, preserve me.’

A cheer erupts from the crowd from across the space and just like that, the moment is gone. Whatever the moment even was. His touch is no longer on yours and his gaze shifting away.

The tension, however, is still very present.

You finally take a swig of the whiskey, wanting to ease the sudden tightness in your chest. You hum at the stinging sensation on your tongue. You catch a glimpse of Poe from the corner of your eye who busies himself with tapping his fingers nervously against the surface of the bar.

Then, in an awkward motion, you stretch your arm to him, offering the drink.

A beat. His gaze shifts between you and your hand. When he finally gives in, a smile curves upon his lips, fingers brushing against yours. They’re delicate and you smile at him. It's small, but it makes his heart skip a beat and you wonder to yourself about the strangeness of love.

[beann-e]

read part one here

Different Ways To Say Sorry

Your body sat idle in the hallway as you kept roaming your thoughts and only coming back to earlier .

After the argument with your boyfriend you were left alone , alone with akaashi who normally would have kept his mouth closed but decided not to when he seen your stuck expression after kuroos comment

As soon as you heard the loud bang of the house door and the engine start up kuroos yelling for bokuto to open the door and to slow down made your body fall instantly.

Marking the spot where you’d pushed bokuto into the wall cursing yourself for your actions . Shivering as you felt the wave of coldness wash over you thinking about the harmful words you’d said

“ y/n you didn’t mean any of it it’s ok “

akaashi’s soft voice came out as he dropped the sign he held that he helped bokuto make for you to welcome you home for your birthday.

Bokuto was childish and you knew it but he meant no harm he was just happy and excited little things excited him and when he was happy you were

So , if he was sad you would only be 2x as sad if the one who created his sadness was yourself

“ I heard you telling bokuto off and — thats not you not once since you’ve dated bokuto—san in the 4 years that you’ve been dating have I seen you get that mad “

he sighed as he hesitantly tried to squat near you

“ d-do you mind “ you nodded your head in a no allowing him to sit next to you while you cried into his shoulder

“ everyone has bad days y/n-san and everyone has had a moment in their life where they’ve said something they regret and that’s ok as long as the person you’ve said it to knows you didn’t mean it “

he squeezed you as you cried heavily “ y/n we all know bokuto is — “ he thought for a moment before speaking “ different from your average person — hes in a way easy “

he sighed as he spoke “ what I mean is you don’t have to do much to say sorry to bokuto so don’t cry really i’m sure he knows you didn’t mean any of it just — for me please when you see him again — please tell him you love him remind him you still love him “

akaashi rubbed your head “ because he’s one of those people when someone gets mad at him — especially someone he loves — if they get mad at him he immediately feels like he’s getting disciplined and like he’s done something really really wrong to be rewarded that behavior — any other award besides praise really “

you loosened your grip on akaashi’s shirt lifting your head to cry into your own hands “ so please when he comes back to you please just make it simple for him he won’t understand many words and won’t believe you if you say a simple sorry he’ll still think your upset and be scared that he’ll screw up again — I promise you he’s never gonna want to touch a stove in his life again— so I wonder what he’ll eat when he’s on the roa-“ akaashi laughed as he quickly calmed down coughing before wiping his sweaty hands on his pants

“ oh um— i’m sorry I thought a joke was a way to go that’s typically what bokuto does in these situations— or maybe you don’t want to keep talking about bokuto “ akaashi spoke out loud running through his thoughts and filtering them out loud

“ oh I should’ve kept myself out of business that’s not mine I feel so disgusted i’m telling you how to treat your boyfriend I- i’m sorry y/- “

“ akaashi I don’t want to trouble you — you may leave“

“ oh “ his voice came out in surprise before he sat confused “ oh — I no I couldn’t “

“ it’s fine akaashi I’ll be ok I just need some time alone “

he sighed he felt bad really but “ i’m sorry y/n I don’t think bokuto would ever forgive me — I don’t think i’d ever forgive myself if I let you stay in your home alone after something like that “

you stared at the ceiling as if you were actually talking to someone conveying sadness as your tears were still leaking “ keiji just please — it’s been a long day and I think I just screwed up my relationship — so could you please just leave me to my thoughts i’ll — i’ll be fine “

akaashi sighed as he moved to stand hugging you softly on the way up “ y/n i’m sorry to treat you like a child — to even put my foot down like this in a house that’s not mine and I don’t pay the bills for but — the most I can do and i’ll allow myself to do is leave the house and wait outside until bokuto comes back “

he sighed “ or at least texts me and tells me he’s gonna come back home because — if not I wouldn’t want you here alone just replaying that fight again and again like i’ve known bokuto to do when he’s lost matches you two are alike that way “

“ I-i’m fine with that just please “

he nodded his head as if you could see him your eyes were stuck to the same wall that was in front of the one bokuto was pushed into— your back up against it bit staring ahead at the corner he stood in when he left.

Hearing the door close and lock assuming akaashi had locked it for you with his key you two made for him so he could check on bokuto anytime he was home and you weren’t

Your body moving to stare directly at the door from the hallway so you’d always have an eye on it to see if bokuto ever returned home tonight.

‘ please’ you thought calmly

It wasn’t a short wait it was rather long You knew it had to be late in the morning when you finally heard the clicking and clacking around by the door until your eyes looked up eyebags weighing them down as you shook in your suit pants that you wore suddenly feeling sweaty as you ripped off the suit jacket.

The rattling and shaking at the door stopping assuming whoever it was —- was taking a moment to think before they walked in as if giving you some time to understand who it was and to prepare

The door opened slowly as your boyfriends hair came into view him standing at the doorstep eyes swollen and glazed over ,fist scratched and hands red , body shaking softly.

Your eyes watered as you just stared at his face thinking ‘ I did that ‘ mentally beating yourself up as your tears fell soft whimpers making their way out of your mouth as you covered it trying to conseal your spot on the floor so he wouldn’t notice

His eyes lifting up as he took a really deep breath and spoke “ y-y/n “ he called voice cracking as he tried again

“ y/n i went to play volleyball— at —at the gym and I got so mad I hurt myself from the constant spikes“ he stayed at the doorstop —door opened fully showing off everything he had with him.

His hand holding 3 roses , left hand holding a bag which , you weren’t sure consisted of and right next to his foot a box “ p-please answe-answer me “

you gulped you didn’t know if you could

You really didn’t know if you could tell your boyfriend that you were directly in front of him and he only had to look down .

“ I-it’s 4 in the mo-morning and I — I’ve been crying since 7 last night — so — so I can only imagine how your feeling h-how long you’ve been crying “

The flowers he held were soon dropped down by his legs as he only held on loosely to the bottom “ I-I dont want to just walk in y/n b-because I don’t know if I’m allowed to I-if I can so please — please let me know your ok “

your voice was soft he could barely hear it as you looked down at the floor

” y-your alwa—here I am being an a-ass to you earlier and you — you care to come back and ask if i’m ok first “ you felt your body shudder in a cry

“ I-i’m such an asshole — I was mad at work — I came home upset —- I brought my attitude home and my first thought was to be m-mean to someone who I love “

Bokutos body moved quickly to drop the things at the door you couldn’t even find it in you to care that he left the door wide open as he ran to you checking you out and lifting your head to inspect it before he stuttered thinking over his actions before kissing you hard on your mouth before he pulled back whispering out small apologies for the action and how he felt bad if he made you uncomfortable

you moved to stand up as he backed away going to grab everything and dragging it inside the house speaking to you as you sat down “ y/n I “

“ ko I just don’t want— “

his voice was hard for the first time today shutting you up instantly “ be quiet y/n “ his eyebrows were hard and done up in a furrow

“ I-I know your pissed at me and I know I can be a bit much and I — “ he was crying

“ I know i’m a child — people see me as a kid and i’m not I swear I can be adult I can be as adult as you want me to just so I can stay with you —I can pay taxes and figure them out if you wanted me to —if you wanted me to go get a real job and quit volleyball i’d do it all for you— because I love you and I don’t care if you want me out of the house “ his tears fell

“ I don’t care if you want me to have no closet space and want to burn my clothes but please — please don’t say you don’t love me it — it I can’t live without your love - you — you do so much for me and i’m so thankful anytime I have a meet your right there — anytime i’m frustrated your there explaining it — anytime I have to travel your on the phone talking to my management team finding tickets for you and all the other s/o “ he wiped at his eyes trying to see better

“ please forgive me i’m sorry i’m a m-man child I don’t know what that is but i’m so sorry for being it and i’m sorry it’s something you hate and I don’t wanna be what you hate y/n i’m sorry — I didn’t know what to do “

he was just saying nonsense now since his tears were clouding his brain “ I didn’t know where to go and kuroo was talking so much and I couldn’t focus and I ended up just buying all your favorite stuff because I thought you didn’t love me anymore so I wanted to beg for your forgiveness at the doorstop just now but —and then you were crying and I — I wanted to kiss you because your so pretty and I hate when you cry unless it’s over me winning and scoring the last point in my game — you look so pretty and proud then — and I like making you proud not sad “

he was clawing at his cheeks and eyes trying to get the tears to stop “ I— I just — my credit card I just bought everything I knew you liked —y/n — baby I bought a dog I don’t — I was — I bought a dog because you said dogs are pretty I bought a hat because you said the hat could go well with an outfit you had “

you smiled as your tears were falling too “ babe I bought a balloon because you said you like the way they lose air after 3 days — I even bough—“

“ baby it’s fine “ you cried as you moved to hug him squeezing tightly “ it’s ok I — this is my fault i’m so sorry “

you cried into his shirt “ your not a man child — which means —you don’t need to know actually it’ll just make things worse “

“ are you saying my shirts are too tight baby “

he cried out “ y/n that’s not funny — I’m buff —I build ok — I workout there’s nothing I can do about it “

“ no ko your perfect the way you are your my buff boyfriend and I love you for it your my brick wall baby“

“ I am “

“ yes and I love you and i’m so proud of how far you’ve come since high school i’m proud of you no matter where you travel to or what you do “

you smiled “ that’s why I missed so many days of work not because I just wanted to be home but because you were coming home for the first time in 2 months and I wanted to be home with you making sure you were comfortable and telling you how much I missed you “

he smiled as you spoke “ your an amazing boyfriend kou and I can’t imagine anyone who wouldnt be happy with you “

“ but I just spent all the money you and akaashi allow me to have on my card “

“ you can have more “ you laughed “ your not broke kou it’s just so you don’t spend all the money you make from volleyball “

he hugged you as you continued to speak “ do you forgive me “

he hugged you tighter kissing you softly as it turned into a heated kiss you trying to stop it before he turned it into more “ why’d you stop “ he said sadly

“ bokuto our door is wide open and “ your eyes came up in a raise

“ what babe what are you looking for “

your voice was high pitched as you looked at all the bags around you “ bo— baby where’s the dog “

his eyes came up in a crease “ what dog “ his brain finally clicking and hurrying to rumage through everything on the floor. Your bodies moving together in a fast pace as you moved over to look around the house.

The chaos going on inside your house all night rivaled the one that was taking place the next day in the car that sat right in your driveway

“ u-uh ok “ akaashi’s face was made up in a straight line as he looked down closing his car door softly

“ s-so um i’m gonna guess bokuto bought you “

the dog cocked its head to the side staring up at the tall male “ d-do you um wanna go back inside with him or “

the dog barked loudly as if scared “ yeah i’m gonna take that as a no “

he reached down to pick up the dog before opening the car door and setting it down in the passenger seat speaking as the dog whimpered “ yeah I don’t trust them either — they lost a whole dog in one night — “

akaashi’s face turned as he saw bokuto walking down the steps and to his car him throwing his coat over the animal “ i’m sorry — i’m sorry — you can come out in a moment “

“hey — hey akaashi “

“ b-bokuto-san hey “

“ aw did you stay out here all night i’m so sorry “ he smiled “ me and y/n are fine thank you for staying here with her “

“ yeah it was no problem really bokuto “

“ hey akaashi I — I actually lost a dog last night and I — I was wondering have you seen it “

“ uh dog ? why’d you have a dog “ bokuto froze as he bit his lip “ so you don’t have it good good “

he moved to leave patting akaashi’s car before he heard a ruffle come from inside “ hey dude somethings moving next to you “

“ oh — it’s um just my phone — I have to go in to work today “

“ wow you have a huge phone “ bokutos voice was raised in happiness “ what model is it I think I want a new one — especially if it’s big enough to fit in my hands with out my thumbs clicking weird buttons “

he pouted “ it’s not fun to retype messages “ akaashi moved to start the car up “ s-sorry bokuto really gotta go but i’ll be back sometime tomorrow “

“ o-oh ok bye akaashi “ he waved as he moved back up the stairs you meeting him at the top laughing as you pulled him back in the house

“ damn thought he would’ve saw the dog “

“ koutaro — baby he has the dog “ you smiled as you laughed pulling his pouting body into a hug “ he stole our dog “

“ well that’s not very nice “

“ let’s let him have it baby he needs it more than us — he can take care of it better “

[kyarymell]

A New Thirst [Reposted from AO3]

Pairing: Louis Amamiya (Code Vein) x GenderNeutral!Reader Content Warnings: EXPLICIT. Dubious Consent, Fuck or Die, Choking Note: COMPLETELY UNEDITED.��After much deliberation, I have posted this again after nuking it from my AO3. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. 

---

The drone of the jukebox and Yakumo’s raucous laughter set the mood for the evening at home base. Jack and Eva were entertained by his stories, Rin and Coco discussing business. Things had calmed down after Io took the relics onto herself and saved the Successors.

The next plan of attack was to honour Cruz and Io’s memory by working towards co-existence with humans. Easier said than done, but the team decided on clearing dens of Lost to make the Gaol a safer place.

Making preparations for the next mission, Mia was sharpening her bayonet and Louis was mixing a dark red concoction in clear vials. The Successor of the Blood and Queenslayer, now a regular Revenant, looked on in curiosity. Before, they seldom talked, but now they made an effort to communicate more.

“What are you making?”

Louis squeezed an eyedropper, adding a small amount of an unknown liquid. Sealing the vial with a cork, he swirled it in his hand.

“It’s an Ichor blend made with some of my blood. Designed to give anyone an edge in battle. You can have one, if you want.”

Nodding, the Revenant placed a vial in their utility pouch, thanking their friend. Usually, one would be wary about accepting strange mixtures to consume. Louis on the other hand was trustworthy, having their back since they met in that underground cavern.

‘Time flies...’

It’s been almost a year and with the changing situation in the mists, the Queenslayer started entertaining strange thoughts. They should be used to it now; Louis pushing them out of harm’s way, a pat on the back for a job well done...

Now, those touches only served to make them more aware of how close Louis always was.

Making up an excuse that they needed to do some preparations of their own, the Revenant retreated to their room. Was it too much to think that they could be more than friends? He seemed busier than ever, but still included them in his plans.

Sighing, they decided to get some shut-eye. Revenants seldom needed to sleep, but it made them feel a little more human again conforming to a schedule.

---

The Queenslayer forgot all about the little red vial until they were cornered in a fight. Having exhausted their Ichor and separated from the group, they pulled off the cork and drank it all in one go. Unlike the usual ability enhancing stimulants they took in the past...

Louis’ Ichor blend was cloying, the scent overpowering their senses and rationality. Hands curled into fists, they picked up their sword, swinging it with a renewed ferociousness.

“-designed to give anyone an edge in battle-“

Is this what he meant?

Invigorated, they shrugged off any previous injuries. Going through the motions of Circulating Pulse, it was like their sword hand moved on instinct. Lost shrieked in terror as they were cut down swiftly, shields breaking at the force at which they were hit.

Running on autopilot, they didn’t rest until every Lost in their surroundings were eliminated.

Finally sensing that the danger was over, the Queenslayer collapsed to their knees. Breathing heavily, their vision started to fill with red. They panicked, pulling up their sleeves to check for any signs of frenzy.

No protruding veins, no abnormalities.

…But everything felt so unbearably hot.

‘What’s happening to me? Is this bloodlust?’

Their legs trembled, gloved hands grabbing fistfuls of dirt.

Suddenly overcome with an urge to touch, to drink deep until they were completely sated, the Revenant desperately wanted to take off their Blood Veil. They wanted to take their mask off.

‘Too constricting… can’t… move…’

Feeling a hand on their shoulder, glowing red eyes glared at the offending person.

“Hey! It’s just me, Louis. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner, the rest of the group were on the other side of that road collapsing-”

The Queenslayer tackled Louis to the ground, fists clenched tightly at his collar. Gripping their wrists, he tried to push them off. They resisted instantly, straddling him and pinning him with their thighs.

With a sense of despair, Louis felt the fight leave his body. After all the trials and tribulations, they were going into frenzy now? Frenzy on a routine mission?

But their lives had only just begun. A life without the Queen’s influence, a life without having to scrounge for blood beads every day.

Blood beads...

He suddenly remembered that he had blood beads on his person in case this happened.

An otherworldly scream pierced the air signalling more Lost and the Queenslayer’s head turned sharply towards the noise. This momentary distraction gave Louis enough time to knock them out with a well-placed hit to the back of the neck.

As they slumped forward, he apologised profusely. There was no time to lose. Ensuring that their mask filter hadn’t fallen in the scuffle, Louis drags them off to a building away from the Lost.

Despite the decrepit state of the structure, Mistle seemed to crawl along the walls in vines.

Releasing the clasp on his mask filter, Louis took a deep breath in. Removing the unconscious

Revenant’s mask, his fingers traced along their jaw for the tell-tale signs of frenzy.

‘What was that?’ he mused, peeling away their Blood Veil.

Removing their gloves, he looked to the inside of their wrists. Smooth skin met his gaze, no scattered red veins to be seen. To ensure that his eyes weren’t deceiving him, Louis gently turned their head to the side.

Nothing.

Sighing, he radioed Yakumo to let him know that their friend couldn’t be moved and the rest of the group would have to go back to base. After giving the red-haired Revenant all the details, he sat back, trying to relax.

Now starts the waiting game.

 ---

I want his blood. I want to drain him.

The Queenslayer woke with a start, disoriented. Breathing heavily, their bared fangs glistened in the low light. Blinking, their vision came into focus, realising that the brunet who was invading their thoughts was right there with them.

“Hey, you’re awake. Wait… your eyes-“

I want-

Quicker than he could react, the Revenant was upon him again, pinning him to the floor.

‘My body has a mind of its own… I don’t want to hurt him.’ 

“L-Louis,” their voice was trembling from the exertion of holding themselves back, “help…” 

“What happene-mmph!”

Louis was cut off by the Revenant trapping him in a heated kiss, a thumb on the corner of his lips to force his mouth open. They ran their tongue along the indents of his teeth, the roof of his mouth and pulled back to bite his lower lip.

I want to taste.

Everything soon became clear, shaking hands haphazardly loosening his tie. He tasted the tell-tale bitterness that was his own Ichor.

“Did you-ah... did you drink the Ichor blend?”

The Revenant nodded, too choked with lust to form a coherent sentence. Flustered, Louis realised that he was never in any danger to begin with. He wouldn’t have been kissed so feverishly otherwise.

Weapon long discarded, his clothes were being pawed at. Would it be so bad to indulge them a little? Swallowing the lump in his throat, he realised how weak he was in the face of his “attacker”. It was no secret to the other members of the group that he had been nursing a crush on them for a while.

No.

Crush wouldn’t be the correct word to describe how deep his feelings ran. That aside, he really wished this happened differently.

“What do you want?”

“Your blood. Your Ichor. You...”

They looked so desperate and Louis squashed down any semblance of trepidation. “Okay. I want to make sure you’ll remember this.” Louis was never one for laying back.

 ---

The Queenslayer licked their bloodied lips, retracting their fangs. With the sweet relief of being able to drink Ichor straight from the source, the Revenant was still left wanting. However, if they drank until sated, Louis was sure to fall into frenzy.

The next plan of attack was to solve the side-effect of unbridled arousal in hopes it would bring them back to normal. Lying under him, exposed, their rationality had been discarded long ago. Scars from battles gone by and trials they faced together- all was bared to the Prometheus wielder in front of them.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you’re not patient.”

There was a growl in their throat, dashed away by gloved-fingers skating across their uncovered skin. The Revenant shivered under his touch, Louis brushing a nipple with his thumb. They arched into his touch and with that small show of encouragement, he pinched the sensitive nubs.

As they squirmed, Louis replaced the fingers with his tongue. Their breathing hastened, tugging slightly on his hair as his tongue swirled around their chest languidly. Sneaking a glance to his companion, he saw half-lidded eyes, mouth slightly open in contentment.

He must’ve been doing something right.

Pressing kisses to their exposed throat, Louis nudged their legs open to gain better access. This motion caused their hips to brush together, the Queenslayer hissing at the friction. Their control must’ve been iron, to not tear Louis’ clothing to shreds then and there.

Instead, they grabbed the back of his neck, mashing their lips together desperately. The kiss was filthy, just like the others; a mess of teeth and tongue, the metallic taste of Ichor. Louis bit down on their bottom lip, making them shiver.

“Suck.”

Pushing his gloved fingers into their mouth, he waited as they obediently did what they were told. Deciding they were sufficiently wet, he withdrew and reached between their legs. As they clamped up in surprise, Louis clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“C’mon. You’re doing so well.”

Stroking them deliberately slow, the sounds he forced from their mouth were weighing on his conscience.

Who was the hunter and who was the prey here? He couldn’t help but entertain the idea of taming such a heroic being. Someone who everyone looked up to with unwavering loyalty, reduced to a writhing mess... how for would Louis be allowed to take this?

Flashes came to him all at once; should he flip them over and fuck them until they begged him to stop? Would it be better if he let them sit on his cock, riding until they drained the both of them completely?

His companion was a flood and he was getting swept away, fast. There was something about them that was so alluring, something about them that was driving him wild.

Was this need to overpower his partner truly a facet of his psyche, hiding in the shadows all this time?

Louis pulled away and tugged his gloves off with his teeth. There was no telling what would happen if he left his friend to their own devices. The situation wasn’t ideal at all: he should’ve confessed his feelings earlier and if returned, let nature take its course.

Instead, due to unforeseen circumstances, the intimacy would be happening right here, right now, in an abandoned building.

‘Stop thinking. Just do.’

Fumbling in his pockets for something to prepare his partner with, the reality of the situation sobered him a little. Mumbling an apology, he coated his fingers in the oil he used to maintain his weapon. Revenant or not, there had to be an order to do this.

He’s not sure if he should be surprised, but as soon as his fingers slid in, their hips lifted to bring them in deeper.

 ---

Louis was too good to them.

He wasn’t as strong as say, Yakumo or Jack, but the way he fucked the Revenant in earnest satisfied them greatly. How could someone undying be so warm? Biting their lip, they shuddered as Louis bent them in half. Unable to stop themselves, they bit into the sensitive flesh of his neck, lapping up the Ichor that escaped.

“Mmph... don’t get too greedy.”

Sweat beaded their brow as they tried to keep quiet. Despite the circumstances, Louis whispered words of encouragement and pressed many affectionate kisses against their skin. Underneath the surface of uncontrollable lust, they lamented on the fact that they weren’t in a relationship.

Suddenly, their thoughts were halted by an embarrassing sound escaping their mouth.

Louis grinned, spreading their legs obscenely wide.

“I’m glad you’re feeling good,” he thrusts in at the same angle drawing another noise, “it wouldn’t be fair if only one of us was enjoying this.”

“Idiot.”

Louis blinked, never had he been insulted by his companion before. He was about to ask what they meant until they reached up and whispered in his ear. They sounded more like their old self and not the Revenant caged by bloodlust.

“I’m enjoying it because it’s you.”

Emboldened, his eyes went suddenly dark.

“Hold onto me.”

Shocked, the Queenslayer wrapped their arms around Louis’ neck as he lifted them. Feeling their back against the cold wall, they were completely filled once more. Leaning forward, the Queenslayer pressed their lips together in a blood-tinged kiss.

Louis fucked them like he wanted to break them apart. The Revenant felt like they were melting on the inside, stomach coiling in arousal whenever their sensitive spots were hit. In this position, Louis could pull out and just let them drop back down.

There was nothing to do but take it, the sensation making their toes curl. Wrapping their legs around his waist, they held on for dear life. Their nails dig lines into Louis’ back, shivering as his hips smacked against their thighs. He seemed to like the rough treatment, groaning in their ear.

The Revenant felt a jolt of pain, the back of their head hitting the wall. Louis curled his fingers around their throat, squeezing. His hair was tousled, eyes wild like a beast. Wincing, the Queenslayer stayed still, despite their fight or flight instincts kicking in. They trusted that Louis wouldn’t hurt them, at least intentionally.

His lips are parted, gaze searching as his thrusts begin to slow. Blinking, he seems to have come back to his senses, releasing his hold on his companion’s neck. Despite losing their breath for a moment, they were frustrated because they were so close.

“Sorry. Don’t know what came over me.”

He’s panting heavily, lifting the Revenant and placing them back onto the floor where their clothes were piled up. Light was dying around the pair as cracks of sunlight peeking through the wall were chased away by dusk. The roots of Mistle cast an ethereal glow, the shadows dancing around Louis’ form.

He really did look remorseful.

Sighing, the Revenant stroked his cheek in reassurance.

“It’s alright. Keep going.”

“But-“

“You’re hurting me more by not letting me come right now!”

Louis bowed his head in embarrassment, caught off-guard. The Successor of the Blood was rarely outspoken, after all.

“I got it.”

Leaning forward, Louis pressed his forehead against theirs, pushing into them once more. From there, they brought each other to the point of no return over and over again, until stars blanketed the Goal of the Mists.

The mutual bloodlust brought on by the special Ichor Blend eventually went away.

 ---

After what seemed like forever, the pair trudged back to home base slowly. Opening the great wooden door as discreetly as possible, their hopes of returning undetected were gone in an instant Yakumo was sitting at the bar nursing a drink, still wearing his Blood Veil.

“Ah, there you are! Mia was worried sick. She went to sleep not long ago- took a lot of convincing. I knew you would pull through!”

Louis shrugged.

“Is that why you look ready to go out at a moment’s notice?”

“You’re my buddy though! Can’t kill me for being concerned.”

The Queenslayer rubbed their tired eyes, deciding to stay out of the conversation. Limping, all they wanted was to get clean and get to bed. Their haggard appearance didn’t go unnoticed by the heavy swordsman.

“Looking a bit down there, want this Ichor Blend I whipped up?” 

“I think they’ll be fine, was just a lot of Lost out there.” Louis responded quickly before they had a chance to answer. 

“Right! Okay. Gotcha.”

Yakumo wiped the bar down and put the glass in the sink. Shrugging off his Blood Veil, he went to fasten his weapon to a case near Rin’s workshop. He gave the Revenant a sly smile before retreating to his room.

“Whatever you decide to do from here on out, do it in moderation, okay?”

Louis lowered his head awkwardly, but not before seeing his companion’s mouth open in shock, followed by a small nod.

“You would do that again… without any outside influences?”

It would be good to clear the air now, rather than later. In a show of vulnerability, they revealed their true emotions.

“Yes. I’d be with you again. Always. If you’d let me.”

Louis said nothing, instead grabbing their wrist and taking them to the hot spring.

[toosicktoocare]

Jason knows the second he’s pulled from sleep by a low vibration close to his head that today’s going to go down in the books as, to put it simply, a bad day. There’s a dull sense of pressure in his head, pushing lightly against the base of his skull, and his phone buzzing insistently beside his head is only heightning his overall awareness that he’s got one hell of a mirgaine trying to grow against his brain. 

He slaps his hand around blindly for his phone, squeezing his eyes shut against the drum of pressure as he clumsily presses answer on his phone with a groan. 

“Look, Dick Brain, I’ve already told you that I’m not teaming up with you lot of dumb birds tonight. I have my own shit, so you you all need to keep your shit to yourselves.” 

“Master Jason?”

Jason isn’t prepared for the polite accent on the other line, one that’s distinctly laced with an air of disappointment. He shoots up in bed, his free hand flying to push against the alarming wave of pressure that’s blooming across is forehead. “Shit, Alfred. Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.” 

“I assumed as much. Did I wake you?”

Jason clears his throat to rid the lingering dryness from sleep that’s coating his throat. He blinks slowly at the digital clock on his bedside table until his mind finally makes sense of the numbers and orders: 10:22 AM. 

He contemplates lying for a breath of a moment only to chase the thought away with a shake of the head. Alfred will know; he always does. 

“Yeah,” he laughs quietly. “Guess I slept in a little.” 

“Are you quite alright, Master Jason? It’s unlike you to sleep past 7 AM.” 

Jason mentally supplies the words that go unsaid: ‘because of your nightmares.’ Sighing, he digs his fingers into his forehead, massaging around the blossoming pressure. “Yeah, just a headache.” 

“Not one of your migraines, I hope.”

“Nah,” Jason tries for an airy attitude, one void of any concern, and to his legitimate surprise, Alfred seems to accept his answer, though hesitantly. 

“If you’re absolutely sure...”

Deflect, Jason supplies to himself. “I assume Dick’s got you calling to do his dirty work?”

“Not quite. Master Bruce asked me to call when Dick informed him that you’ve been dodging his calls all week.”

“That’s new,” Jason mutters, swinging his legs over the bed and sliding to his feet. The sudden change in weight distribution elevates the pressure in his head. He swallows back a gasp, free hand finding the wall for support as he shuffles from his bedroom to his bathroom in search for pain killers. “What’s so important about tonight? Sounds like a standard drug bust that Dick can more than handle on his own.” 

“Master Bruce would feel better if all of his sons were present tonight.” 

Jason doesn’t understand Bruce’s mind, his logic and reasoning for his choices. He never has, and he gathers that he never will. He snags a bottle of pain killers and balances his phone between his ear and shoulder, ignoring to sudden shift of pain in his head. 

“I have my own patrol, Alfred.” 

“We’ll have all patrols covered, Master Jason. Your territory will be well looked after tonight.” 

Damn, Jason thinks. If there’s one thing Alfred is good at, it’s his verbal reassurance, something so frighteningly powerful. He dry swallows a few pills and drops against the edge of his tub with a sigh, fingers raking through his hair. 

“Fine. Will you send me the details?” He drags out each word slowly, making sure that Alfred knows he’s only agreeing because it’s Alfred asking. 

“Of course.”

***

Jason’s head feels far too heavy on his neck, the added pressure weighing it down. The pain killers chased off the edge of the migraine for a few hours, but per usual, the pain came back stronger as the pills wore off, and he’s opted not to take more, not wishing to risk being slightly sluggish. 

He walks up to see Dick, Tim, and Damian occupying a small corner down an alleyway, their odd meetup point. Tim’s seated, his back against a wall, and he’s yawning. Dick’s stood with his back against a wall across from Tim, his arms crossed, as he muffles a few light coughs into his fist. And, Damian’s standing closer to Dick with his right arm cradled close to his chest. 

Tension trickles down to Jason’s limbs, and he grips his helmet a little tighter in his hand as he approaches. “The fuck’s wrong with you all?” His own voice is a drill in his head, piercing through the pressure and re-distributing it unevenly.

It’s Tim who opts to speak around a second yawn. 

“Dick’s still recovering from the flu, and the Demon Brat hurt his wrist on patrol yesterday.” 

“My wrist is fine, Drake,” Damian spits out, drawing out words deliberately.

“I assume you haven’t slept,” Jason mutters, nodding toward Tim, who’s slow to get to his feet. 

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Dick cuts in sharply, and Jason arches a single brow to the oldest, faintly curious. “You need sleep, Tim, or you’ll wind up sick.” 

“Funny since you’re the one who’s running a low grade fever.” 

“Grayson is competent, Drake, even while recovering from illness. He’s not so easily taken down by the flu.” 

“And what are you planning on doing tonight, Damian,” Tim drags out lowly, and Jason shifts his faint curiosity from one idiot to the other. 

“You can barely move your wrist.” 

“I’ve been trained to be ambidextrous, Drake-”

“-Okay,” Jason calls out, the curiosity from before replaced with dull, familair annoyance that’s now mixed in with a hot pain swirling in his skull. “Let’s just get this the fuck over with, yeah?” He looks to Dick, a silent question to take charge, and Dick nods and turns on his heel, leading everyone to the hinted base for the drug ring. 

“Father would tell you to watch your language,” Damian mutters at Jason’s side before he quickens his step to match Dick’s steady pace. 

Jason flips him off and shoves his helmet over his head, swallowing back a groan when the added weight pushes the pressure in different directions. Nausea starts to tumble in his stomach, and he tries his best to steady his breathing, pushing his concentration away from himself. 

“So, Timmy, what are the deets? Alfred didn’t say much.”

***

Turns out, Bruce’s hunch was correct, and all four were forced to hold their own against multiple, burly men, all of which got in numerous, painful hits before being taken down. The fight ended at the top of an apartment building across the street from the warehouse that was doubling as the drug storage, and Jason’s not sure he’s ever felt this much pain in his head, knowing that it didn’t help he let a few men get some solid hits to his face and temples. 

The others appear to be, more or less, in similar conditions. Dick’s down on one knee, panting heavily. Damian’s paler than usual, and he’s got his wrist held tightly to his chest, and Tim’s swaying on his feet, looking about ready to drop any second. 

Jason pulls a slow gaze around them, swallowing thickly around the bursting pressure that’s pushing hard against every inch of his skull now, swelling against his brain, leaving his vision fraying at the edges. He’s faintly aware that the others are talking amongst each other, but he can’t keep up with the conversation, not with the sudden roar in his ears that drowns out the voices around him. 

The pain’s... intense. It’s all he’s able to supply, most thoughts breaking against the pressure. He takes a step back, fingers clumsily slipping under his helmet. His vision is graying now, blurring, and he tries to blink around it. He can see Dick get to his feet, see the older boy frowning at him. He’s saying something to him, but Jason can’t work his mind around reading lips. No, all he wants is to get the damn helmet off his head, but his hands are shaking too hard to be of any use. 

He starts to feel hot all over despite the crisp fall air. He takes another, staggering step back, his legs struggling to hold his balance, to support the weight of his abdomen and head, and the back of his foot knocks hard into something. He only realizes that he’s bumped into the edge of the roof when he’s falling backward into open, empty space. 

His stomach plummets in time with his body, bringing back his vision, sounds, his surroundings. 

“Jason!”

He pulls his gaze from the tilting sky to see the others coming into view, and he wonders, briefly, if it’s the last thing he’ll ever see, but the thought gets josteled from his head when something small yet strong latches onto his ankle, followed by a loud, gasping cry. 

His back slams against the side of the apartment building, bringing with it bursting, white hot pain across his head, but he manages to stay present, craning his neck up to see Damian crying and holding onto his ankle with his injured hand. Dick stumbles toward them, wrapping one arm tightly around Damin to keep him up on the roof. 

“Jason! Do you think you can lean upward?”

Nodding, Jason breathes deeply around the pain and nausea, and he swings himself upward, arms flying forward until he’s grasping at the hands reaching out to him. Dick and Tim pull him up, and the second he’s upright, his vision grays until he blacks out entirely. 

***

“Come on, Jay, open your eyes for me.” 

Jason wants to be annoyed that the voice is waking him, but there’s something so soft and desperate in the tone, in the gentle touches at his face, so he decides to try and chase it. 

“Bruce is on his way.” 

That brings Jason back all at once, his mind reeling against pain, and nausea twisting so hard in his stomach. He leans to the side and vomits, mutely thankful that someone removed his helmet. 

“Shit, Jason!” 

He can feel a hand at his back, rubbing small circles, and when his stomach settles, he flops back onto his back with a groan, only faintly aware that his head is pillowed on Dick’s thigh. 

“Jay? You with us?” 

“Bruce says he’s two minutes out. He wants to know if we can make it off the roof.” 

Jason realizes slowly that there’s a voice missing, and then memories flood agaisnt the pressure in his head until he’s jerking forward to see Damian sitting across from his, tear trackes evident against his cheeks. 

“Fuck, Damian, your wrist-”

“It’s okay.” Damain’s voice is shaking, and Jason leans forward to pat Damian’s knee, unsure of what else he could do or say to properly express the heavy weight of appreciation for Damian saving his life. 

“Jason, what happened? Are you sick?” Dick’s voice is laced deep with worry at Jason’s back, two hands planted firmly to Jason’s shoulders.

Before Jason can answer, Bruce is swinging himself over the ledge of the roof, fully suited, dark eyes shifting between each son, falling on Jason. 

“Migraine,” he answers deeply for Jason. “Alfred suspected as much.” Bruce stops before him. “Can you walk?” 

Jason nods and allows Bruce to pull him to his feet. He sways for a moment, swallows back the need to dry heave, and grounds himself, faintly aware that Bruce’s hand is just inches from his elbow. He doesn’t meet Bruce’s studying gaze, doesn’t fully breathe until Bruce breaks away to assess the others. 

He watches, exhausted, as Damian argues with Bruce that he doesn’t need to be carried. He frowns when Tim stumbles into Dick, and Dick crouches down and instructs Tim to climb atop his back. He follows behind the others, listening in briefly to hear Tim grumble how Dick’s fever feels like it’s spiking, or how Bruce’s is tugging Damian tightly to his side and muttering reassurances under his breath. 

When they reach the ground floor, his knees begin to shake, but then Alfred’s at his side, worried, arm tight around his shoulders, and he’s guided into one of Bruce’s many cars, squeezing in the back beside the others. Tim’s directly to his left, and he drops his head to Jason’s shoulder almost immediately. Jason nudges him forward just enough to slip his arm around his back, and Tim curls closer into him. 

Jason decides that just for tonight, he’ll let him. He cranes his neck to see Damian similarly clinging to Dick, and he locks eyes with Dick, the two sharing a mutual, tired nod. 

Dragging his gaze slowly forward, Jason squeezes his eyes shut, focusing on the lull of the engine and not on the drum pounding in his head. 

“Shall I drop Master Jason off at his apartment?” 

“No, I want all of my sons at the manor tonight.” 

[sequinsmile-x]

From The Heart

They had been on the brink of something, something they both thought could have been extraordinary, before the skeletons came out of her closet and tore it all apart.

Chapter 1 

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: Mature, some smut

Read on A03 via this link, or under the cut

The apartment was small and nondescript. Tucked away down a Parisian street most people wouldn’t look twice at. It had never felt like home to her. Still unfamiliar to her seven months down the line as she frantically packs a small bag, JJ’s words echoing around her head. She packs just the basics, hoping beyond anything that this is it. That she is going home for good. She doesn’t think much of it as she leaves the apartment for the final time, knowing that even if they fail, if they can’t stop Ian and she has to go back into hiding, she won’t be coming back here. She pushes the keys back through the letterbox and takes a deep breath as she walks away, shedding her anonymity as she goes.

Emily Prentiss was coming back from the dead. _____________

As soon as she lands in the US she feels anxious. The fear she had felt in the lead up to her showdown with Ian scratching back up her spine. The tightness in her chest that had never gone away tightening around her heart, making it feel like it was in a vice. Her lungs cramped, her chest feeling like it was too full of fear for her to take in a deep breath. It felt like everyone was watching her, like they all knew who she was. Like they knew what she had done.

The driver whose job it is to take her to Quantico asks her if she is ok. He meets her with a fake name written on some card, the same name that had been on the passport she had travelled with. Emily nods and says she is fine, lets him take her small suitcase and smiles when he jokes that she is travelling light. She’s distracted, her mind on seeing the team. She wants to see them desperately, see the people she considered her family before her life fell to pieces around her.

She thinks of Aaron and it makes her ache. The memory of how close they came to being something had haunted her for so long. They had gone on exactly two dates before Ian Doyle tore through everything, leaving her life, and the lives of those she loved, in tatters.

Their first date was an accident. The rest of the team had gone to their rooms leaving them alone, and Emily suggested they went for dinner, neither of them tired enough to sleep yet. They found a diner not too far from their hotel and settled there, both ordering an almost absurd amount of food they could never finish, as if they wanted an excuse to stay for longer than necessary. Their conversation flowed easily as they ate, the waitress pouring them more coffee as the night went on, her wry smile at their slightly shy behaviour obvious to them both.

The feelings for him she had always pushed down simmered a little too close to the surface. They talked about Jack and Sergio mixed in with stories from their childhoods, and they seemed to realise at the same time how much they were enjoying themselves. The thing that had always remained unsaid between them shining bright, both of them wanting it to ignite.

Aaron kissed her cheek at her hotel room door. As he pulled away she grabbed his chin, stopped him from going any further as she pressed her lips briefly to his just so she knew what it felt like. Something in her had shifted in that moment, the feel of his lips, softer than she’d imagined, making her feel something that felt absurd given how quick it had been. She dreamt about him that night.

He must have felt it too, because their second date wasn’t an accident. He’d called her, his voice uncharacteristically nervous as he asked her to dinner again. He didn’t take her to a fancy restaurant, well aware of her distaste of small plates and overly expensive food, but to a place he liked to take Jack to. The wait staff knew him, and asked him about his son, and Emily remembered the warmth that had spread through her body at the idea that he would take her somewhere that was usually just for him and Jack.

That night she learnt she could fluster Aaron. The usually stoic unit chief stumbled over his words as she placed her hand a little too high on his thigh, his eyes drawn to her lips most of the evening as she told him things he didn’t know about her.

He had insisted on walking her to her apartment, despite it being in the opposite direction to his own home, and he kissed her. Properly this time, leaving her breathless against her apartment door with the promise of a third date.

Then Sean Macallister called, and nothing was the same, and Emily had been left wishing she had insisted he come up to her apartment that night. That she’d had one night with him, something she could have clung onto in the months that followed.

She had pulled away immediately. Suddenly rebuffing any attempts he made to get her alone, to talk to her about whatever was going on. Emily knew if anyone was able to pull it from her, to make her admit to her demons that were now chasing them all, it would have been him.

Aaron had told her once, just before she had walked away from the team, that it was ok if she had changed her mind. If there was something about him that she didn’t want that he would let it slight, and he wouldn’t let it affect their friendship.

It almost broke her. The promise that it wasn’t him on the tip of her tongue before she swallowed it back. His safety was more important to her than anything else. Even how he felt about her.

Emily had a vague memory of Aaron visiting her in Bethesda. The feel of his hand in hers, his lips pressed against her forehead. Whispered promises against her skin that he would bring her home, that Ian would pay for what he had done to her. That he would take her on that third date. _____________________

The thought of the promised third date had kept her going in Paris. The notion that after everything, all that he had learned about her and what she had done, he had still wanted her. Emily had thought about all of the team often in the long lonely days of her isolation from the world, but none of them more than him. She wondered how he was doing. Knowing that the burden of making the decision to fake her death would weigh heavily on him.

She wondered what he had told Jack, his sweet little boy, who she loved more than she thought she should. Emily had many sleepless nights wondering if Jack thought she was dead too.

When sleep found her she dreamt of Aaron often. Something that she once thought was when turning into an if only as the months dragged on.

When she sees him for the first time she realises her dreams hadn’t done him justice. _____________________

Emily puts all of her own thoughts aside as soon as she enters the conference room. She bears the feelings of the team, takes in their shock and their emotions and holds it in her chest. She feels like she deserves it. Derek’s words as she lay dying on the floor of a warehouse had run on a loop in her head for months. Penelope’s voicemail was a curse as she tried and failed to find sleep.

Aaron’s visit to her in the hospital was vague to her. A memory she wasn’t always sure was real. She stays to talk to him, her bravery now Ian was dead taking her by surprise.

As soon as she’s standing opposite Aaron in his office, the Senate Committee done and behind them, she feels unsure. She wonders if too much time has passed, if too many things have happened. If her harsh words towards him in the wake of Ian’s return, her fear pushing him away rather than letting her pull him closer like she truly wanted, had damaged the tentative start to a relationship that they could have had.

Aaron grabs her hand, his thumb running over her wrist. “Do you want to get out of here?” He clears his throat. “Go to mine and talk?”

Emily smiles at him and nods, grateful that this might be the one thing Ian Doyle hadn’t taken from her. _____________________

Aaron looks at her in a way she isn’t sure she deserves. Like she's made of something precious. He guides her into his apartment with his hand on her lower back. Emily can feel the heat of his skin through her shirt and it makes her close her eyes and take in a deep breath.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks, his voice soft as if he worries she will bolt at any second.

Emily smiles at him as he puts down his briefcase, she watches as he neatly puts his keys on the hook by the door and sets the alarm. A routine that she is glad to be privy to.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” She grasps her hand in front of herself, trying to stop herself from digging at the skin around her thumbnails.

He brings them both over a glass of wine each and encourages her to sit on the couch. She takes in how tidy the apartment is, how it looks like no one has lived in it in weeks.

“Where’s Jack?” She asks, not missing how he stiffens slightly.

“He’s away with Jessica and her parents.” He answers, taking a sip of his wine before setting his glass down. “I had to come back so quickly there wasn’t time for them to change their plans.”

It hurts, a burning in her chest that tells her she had caused this. That she had driven him away from his son, from his home to a country on the other side of the world. She wants to ask there and then what Jack knows, if he thinks she is dead, but she doesn’t think she can bear it yet.

“I’m sorry, Aaron.” She says, her smile trembling as she looks at him. “I messed everything up.”

“You could have come to me, Emily.” Aaron replies, his eyes as hard as she’d seen them since she walked into the conference room. “I would have helped.”

“He would have killed you.” She answers, as sure now as she was then. Time had done nothing to change her mind about her decision making. “He would have killed all of you.”

“Em-”

“Clyde said you threatened him.” She interrupts, changing the subject. She didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say, the self sacrificing tendencies she knew would have cost him his life. “He wasn’t impressed.” She smiles at him, and it doesn’t quite reach her eyes but he returns it.

“Well.” Aaron says, averting his gaze from hers. “I meant it.” He clears his throat and places his glass of wine down on the coffee table. “I would have done anything to keep you safe.”

“I know you would have.” She replies, placing her own wine glass down. She leans forward and hugs him before she can think better of it, her body relaxing as he wraps his arms around her. “I am sorry.”

“I know you are.” Aaron says, turning his head to press a kiss to her cheek. It reminds her of that first date, back when everything was simple and Ian Doyle was a name she’d thought she would never have to say out loud again. A secret she could have taken to her grave.

Emily pulls back and looks at him, cupping his cheek before she can stop herself. Emily kisses him, the desperate need to know if it was like she’d remembered, if it was like she’d dreamt about all those months she was away. It was somehow better.

She feels his hand drift under her shirt, having somehow untucked it from her skirt. His skin scalds hers, his palm spanning almost her entire back. She pulls back from him and runs her thumb over his bottom lip. She avoids eye contact with him, whispering the fear that had put her heart in a vice since the moment his apartment door closed behind them. “I don’t know if I can be what you want me to be.”

It’s the most honest thing she has said to him, her fear that he wants more than she can give briefly overrides her desire. Aaron hooks a finger under her chin and tilts her head to make her look at him.

“I’ll take whatever you can give.”

She stares at him, seeing all of her options laid out in front of her. She could walk away now and she knows he wouldn’t hold it against her, that on some level he understands that this is as bad of an idea as she does.

Emily doesn’t want to walk away . She wants this, she wants him. More than she thinks she has ever wanted anything. She lets herself have it, have him. Needing to prove to herself that Ian didn’t steal everything like she had told herself he had on cold lonely nights in Paris. That, despite it all, she still had Aaron.

She doesn’t say anything else. Her answer is to kiss him fiercely, licking the inside of his mouth before he can question her, before he can be the voice of reason in this. He responds in kind, his hands squeezing tightly against her skin in a way she knows will leave marks in the morning.

Emily pushes his jacket off of his shoulders, and it lands on his couch behind him, discarded for him to find creased in the morning. He pulls her closer, hands wandering over clothes and bare skin. Her skirt rises up and allows her to throw a leg over his lap, both of them moaning as she sits on him.

Aaron suddenly pulls back from her, his hands cupping her cheeks to hold her in place when she desperately tries to kiss him again, not wanting her brain to have the chance to kick in.

“Emily.” He says, desperation in his tone she doesn’t recognise. He rests his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he tries to be the rational one. “Are you sure?��

She licks her lips, heaves in a breath.

“Yes.” She kisses him gently, the softest one they have exchanged since she kissed him for the first time outside her hotel room close to a year ago. “I’m sure.”

He stares at her, as if he is trying to figure out if this is the right thing for them. She doesn’t give him the chance to apply logic to it. She surges forward and kisses him again, her hands around the back of his neck, holding him to her. He breaks away from her long enough to encourage her to stand. He gets them to his bedroom, his tie goes missing along the way when he stops them to push her against the wall, his mouth against her neck and the top of her collarbone as she undoes the top few buttons of his shirt.

Emily tenses when he goes to lift her shirt, the reality of what he was about to see breaking through. The first person except for her and her doctors to see the scars she was only just used to. Aaron senses her hesitation, rests his forehead against hers.

“Em.” He breathes out, his hand against the bare skin of her back. “It’s ok.” He kisses her, the tenderness behind it enough to make her want to cry. “You’re beautiful.” He kisses her again. “You always have been. You always will be.”

He presses his lips to her neck and she’s lost, the feeling of what he was doing to her body outweighing any feelings of self doubt. He removes his shirt first, gently undoing the buttons she hadn’t and revealing the silver scars across his skin. Emily can’t help herself as she trails her fingers over them, her lips against the one at the top of his chest.

He shivers, and she knows she is the first to have seen him like this. That she is the first person who has seen the scars left behind by the man who tried to take everything from him. She had seen them once before, when he was still unconscious in the hospital, his vitals dipping as the doctors tried to save his life. She hadn’t understood the growing feelings she’d had for him then. Or she had at least ignored them, resolute to stuff them back into the box that they had escaped from.

Aaron pauses, his hands gripping her a little tighter. He opens his mouth to speak, to provide some explanation that she already knows about what she has seen. She raises her hand to his mouth, pressing her fingers to his lips.

“It’s ok.” She says, smiling as she repeats his own words back at him. “All I see is you, not him.”

He smiles at her, kissing her fiercely, only breaking their connection to lift her shirt from her head. Emily sucks in a breath as his finger traces the scar over her breast, the smell of her burning flesh lingering at the edge of her senses as she remembers how Ian had marked her, how the surgeons had only been able to do so much. Aaron kisses her skin, his lips trialing a path down her body until he is dropping to his knees. Pressing affection into the constellation on her abdomen, the skin still pink from where it had healed. There were times when she could still feel the table leg through her, the sharp pain followed by numbness she had felt in that warehouse in Boston.

Now all she felt was Aaron. All she could hear were the words of praise he said against her skin, and something far too close to love settles over her. She pushes it back, not wanting to feel it, and she pulls him upwards, tugging at him until he follows and is towering over her again.

The gentleness ends there. She ends up on the bed, her back pressed against his quilt and her legs spreading for him to settle in. He takes her apart, twice, with his fingers and tongue before he enters her, their fingers linked on the mattress next to her. He presses his forehead to hers as they both come apart together, something that they had both wanted for longer than they would admit culminating in one moment.

It takes them a while for their breathing to even out, for him to shift to lay next to her, pulling her half on top of him as he pulls the quilt over them as their bodies cool.

Emily isn’t sure what to say. She traces her finger over the mark she had sucked onto his chest, and feels him doing the same across her collarbone.

“We should have done that a long time ago.” She says, the tightness in her chest easing when she feels him laugh.

He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and she feels any remaining tension in her melt away as his hand skates up her ribs, pulling her closer to him.

“We should do that again.” He says, tilting her head to kiss her properly. “Although you might have to give me 20 minutes.”

Emily cups his cheek, her thumb running over his jaw line. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, Em.”

Aaron drifts to sleep below her, his breathing evening out under her cheek. As the fingers he had been running up and down her spine slow to a stop Emily thinks he might be the only person who truly understood her.

She hopes it’s enough.

[melzula]

Could you write a Fire Lilies blurb about Princess! Reader and Zuko 's date night in their tale of Ba Sing Se?

a/n: you have no idea how excited I was when I got this request!!!

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

It’s a quiet day in Ba Sing Se as the Princess sweeps the floor of the tea shop and prepares for the morning rush of customers. She doesn’t get paid nearly as much as Zuko and Iroh due to only working part time, but she makes up for it by working in the dress shop across the street. It’s easy work and her employer is very kind so she can’t complain. Besides, this was the kind of simple life she had been longing for ever since her departure from home. The transition hadn’t been easy, especially not for Zuko, and she knew it would take some time to get used to, but now that they were in Ba Sing Se they had all the time in the world to settle down and finally begin a life together.

Across the way at the front counter Zuko watches y/n work silently, an unreadable expression on his face as he does so. He’s doing his best to at least try to make a life here despite how adamant he feels about the city being nothing but a prison, if not for him then for her, because she deserves it after all. It was something he had promised her long ago, and though their relationship had become worn and strained it was still there altogether, and the knots that had formed along the way were finally beginning to loosen now that they were here in Ba Sing Se.

“You know, it has been a very long time since the two of you last had the chance to be alone,” Iroh points out. “Perhaps the Princess would appreciate a romantic night out with her boyfriend.”

“There’s nothing to do here,” Zuko complains. “Where could we possibly go?”

“I’ve heard they have a beautiful fountain here,” Iroh suggests.

“I have to work.”

“Nonsense. I can cover your shift for you so that the two of you may go out together,” his Uncle offers, and before he has the chance to protest y/n approaches the counter with her dustpan and apron in hand.

“The shop is ready for customers,” she says with a small smile. “I should get going. Miss Tai asked me to open up the store today.”

“Of course. Zuko, is there anything you’d like to say to the Princess before she leaves?” Iroh asks, giving his nephew a gentle nudge to the ribs. Zuko scowls before clearing his throat and attempting a gentler approach to the question as you stand there expectantly.

“Would you like to go out on a date tonight?” He asks in a strained voice, obviously uncomfortable and out of his element. He’d never really had to ask her on a date before, she’d always just kind of been there, by his side and ready to spend time with him. Since when did a simple bowl of ramen together not count as a real date?

“I’d love to,” she giggles, obviously appreciative of his efforts, “you can pick me up from work.”

“He’s looking forward to it!” Iroh grins, and Zuko blushes with embarrassment at the delicate laughter that escapes y/n as she exits the shop and heads to work. Spirits, help him.

~~~

Zuko waits impatiently outside of Miss Tai’s shop, a permanent scowl on his lips and the urge to fuss with his hair stronger than anything he’s ever felt. He isn’t sure why he allowed his Uncle to do his hair or why he’s putting so much work into a date with his longtime girlfriend, but he knew Iroh had been right about the fact that it had been much too long since they’d last went out like this. But it wasn’t Zuko’s fault, at least not in his eyes, because he had been busy and couldn’t tend to y/n right away like she had hoped he would. The pair had been so close together yet so far apart in his years of hunting the Avatar, and when it was quiet enough his thoughts were often loud with doubt over whether or not she still loved him as much, if at all, as she did when they’d last met in their secret tunnel.

A muffled giggle is what catches his attention, y/n’s hand held over her mouth as she tries to stifle her laughter for Zuko’s sake. He wants to complain but the words die in his throat at the sight of her. Dressed in Miss Tai’s finest silk dress, the Princess looks absolutely radiant and quite literally takes Zuko’s breath away.

“Do you like it?” She muses with a sweet smile. “Miss Tai let me borrow it for our date.”

“You look... really pretty,” he finally says with a small smile of his own.

“And you look absolutely adorable!” y/n squeals, prompting Zuko’s smile to immediately morph into a scowl. She gives his cheeks a light pinch and laughs when he gently swats her hand away. “You should do your hair like that more often.”

“It took Uncle ten minutes to do my hair,” Zuko sulks as the Princess finally puts him out of his misery and ruffles the awful hairdo away.

“I’ll have to thank him when we get back,” she giggles before taking his hand and dragging him off to venture out into the city. “So what should we do?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko grumbles. “This city is nothing but dirt, I don’t know how I can possibly enjoy it.”

“Well you can’t enjoy it with an attitude like that,” the Princess argues. “There’s a cake stand over there. You like cake, don’t you?”

“I’m not in the mood for cake.”

“Then what are you in the mood for?”

“Nothing,” he grumbles, and the Princess’s once cheerful demeanor dwindles into one of disappointment. He doesn’t want to be here, she knows that better than anybody, but she had hoped that maybe by going out together he’d at least warm up to the idea of living in the city. Y/n loved Zuko more than anything in the world, but she was starting to doubt whether or not he still felt the same way about her. Their flame was beginning to dwindle and though she was desperate to keep the fire going it seemed that wouldn’t be possible without his help.

“Maybe you should just go home,” she offers quietly, releasing his hand and turning her back towards him in order to hide her growing tears. “That way you won’t have to be here when you don’t want to, a-and I can just explore the city by myself.”

Guilt weighs heavily upon Zuko’s shoulders at the sound of her trembling voice as he yet again manages to disappoint her. He wants to apologize but the words are stuck in his throat, so instead he lets out a small, awkward cough before coming up and gently resting a hand on her shoulder.

“That fortune teller booth looks kind of fun,” he suggests, and when she gives him a pointed look he says, “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Okay,” y/n sniffles quietly, a weak smile present upon her features as Zuko intertwines his fingers with her own and guides her towards the booth. He doesn’t miss the manor in which she tightly holds his hand, almost as if she’s afraid she’ll lose him if he lets her go, and it urges the Prince to increase his pace as he guides her towards their destination.

“Yes, step right up, lovebirds!” The eccentrically dressed man encourages, immediately taking the Princess’s hand and yanking her forward to read her palm. Zuko bites back the threat that rises up his throat, and y/n watches with childlike excitement as the fortune teller scans the grooves and lines of her hand. “Ah, this is very interesting.”

“What is it?”

“I see that you’ve lived a very happy life, though it hasn’t been easy as of late. The love you have in your heart is strong, but this love will be put to the test when the time comes.”

“Sounds like a bunch of nonsense,” Zuko mumbles only to earn a glare from the Princess in return. Put to the test? Hadn’t they already been through the hardest parts of their relationship already? What else could possibly make things worse?

“You will live a content and comfortable life and die a peaceful death. Oh, and you’ll most definitely be having twins!”

“Twins!” Y/n repeats delightedly, but all color drains from Zuko’s face at the idea and suddenly he feels very lightheaded.

“Okay, thank you, that’s enough,” he finally interjects, making sure to pay the man before dragging you off to your next destination.

“We’re going to have twins!” The Princess squeal delightedly.

“How do you know he’s not just some crazy old man?” Zuko retorts.

“He could be,” she admits with a shrug, “but it’s nice to have something to hope for even if it isn’t real.”

He says nothing in response to her wishful thinking, but he must admit that he does enjoy the idea of settling down with the Princess, starting their own family, creating a new legacy. Maybe staying in one place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

After a few minutes of aimless walking the two stumble upon the famous fountain of Ba Sing Se, though it doesn’t look like much to either of them due to the fact that the lanterns aren’t lit.

“This is the fountain everyone always talks about?” The Princess retorts with obvious disappointment. “I thought it would be prettier.”

“Hold on,” Zuko says, and before y/n can question him the Prince begins to use his bending to light the lanterns around the fountain. It’s dangerous and absolutely foolish to use his bending out in the open like that, but he’d rather be thrown in jail by the Dai Lee than have his Princess be upset. Her eyes sparkle with complete and utter awe at the sight of his fire bending, recognizing the flow of his movements and admiring the beauty of the flames that dance among the lanterns.

Now lit in all of its glory, the two stand side by side and admire the shimmering water that flows from the fountain. Zuko wraps an arm around the Princess’s waist, and she happily rests her head upon his shoulder once she’s safely nestled into his side.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight,” she murmurs quietly. “I’ve missed spending time with you like this.”

“Me too... I know I’ve been difficult with the transition into our new life here, and it’s going to take some time for me to get used to. But I also know that this should have happened a long time ago, and I’m sorry it took me this long to fulfill my promise to you.”

“I don’t care about how long it took us to get here,” y/n replies earnestly. “All that matters is that we’re finally together in Ba Sing Se just like we planned all those years ago. We can be happy now, but only if you allow yourself the chance to enjoy it.”

“I want to,” Zuko utters, turning to face her and gently cupping her cheek with his hand, “and I know with your help I can.”

The Princess smiles faintly at his proclamation, and when he leans down to kiss her she meets him halfway to seal their lips together in a tender kiss. It isn’t very long or very passionate, Zuko still not used to the idea of public displays of affection due to the fact that he’d refrained from act during his time on the ship with the crew, but it’s special and beautiful all the same.

Ba Sing Se is the start of a new beginning for the a coupe, a second chance at happiness and a place where they can start over. It won’t be easy, and the transition won’t happen over night, but at the two kiss underneath the ember glow of the fountain’s lanterns, the Princess knows that they’re finally going to get their chance at happiness, and so she savors the feeling for all it’s worth.

Because the spirits know it won’t last for very long.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @zukh03s @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox |

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

Navigating the Storm (1/4)

Summary: Emma Swan navigates the aftermath of Neverland by trying to deal with everything the way she always has, by locking all her feelings away. Between having to share Henry with two other people now, her parents confession in the Echo Caves, her parents pushing her towards a man she has no interest in, and feelings for another man that she never expected to feel, Emma is at the end of her rope. *Post Neverland - No Curse*

Author’s Note:  Thank you to my friend @hollyethecurious for beta reading this story for me! I have had this written for about three months now and have finally put on the finishing touches. This is part 1 of 4 - I will post a chapter a week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Rated M          4.5K          ao3           ffnet          Under the cut, promise

It had been exactly two weeks since they’d stepped foot back in Storybrooke, since bringing Henry home safely from Neverland. Two weeks in which Emma Swan had had very few chances to just be, to just breathe. Each breath felt like it was choked by the need to scream or cry. Two weeks of restless nights and emotionally fraught days; parents urging her toward a man she did not want, her mom wanting a new baby, another mom wanting her baby, not that she held anything against Regina. Henry was as much Regina’s as he was hers, she knew that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t weigh heavily on her soul. And of course there was Neal, who had been an ever-present thorn in her side during the last two weeks. 

Emma wanted to blame everything on Neal, it would be so easy, but she couldn’t do that, there was rarely only one person to blame. She had to take some responsibility, too. He’d been bugging her about giving their relationship another shot, about putting aside the past to make a better future for Henry. Each time, Neal’s words would hit the solid mass of her thick skull and bounce right off, while simultaneously invoking a silent wrath in her being. What the everloving fuck was he thinking? How could the two of them being together be good for anyone? It didn’t help that her parents both still thought Neal was a saint. It didn’t help that each time they unwittingly made little comments about her giving him a chance, it felt like a little more of the world weighed on her shoulders. 

Each morning she dragged her feet getting out of bed, if only to delay dealing with the barrage of shit she didn’t want to hear about or deal with. Of course, if she was honest with herself, she’d admit the reason she was feeling like this was because she was effectively not dealing with any of it. But why choose now to be honest with herself, she’d been content to ignore every other issue she’d dodged in life, abandonment, intimacy, self-worth, why stop now?

Emma hadn’t felt emotional sadness like this since the days between finding out she was pregnant in prison and knowing she would have to give her baby up. Her body felt heavy, her mind felt clouded, and her soul was just… sad, there wasn’t a better word for it. She hated this feeling, and when the sadness became too overwhelming, anger often surged in, and no one needed an angry Emma Swan around. She loved her family and her family-by-extension, but she needed a break. 

As she walked toward Granny’s at a molasses slow pace, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, head down, where she was meeting her parents, Neal, Henry, and Regina for a late dinner, her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to inhale air past the lump forming in her throat. A deep anger rose within her, mostly because she was pissed at herself for wanting to cry. She didn’t know how to make everyone understand what she was feeling and why she was feeling it. No one had ever taught her the healing power of communication, while growing up in foster care. As the anger finally defeated the desire to cry, Emma Swan did what all responsible folks do and locked that shit up, deep inside where no one would see it. 

“I saved you a seat, Ems,” Neal offered as she entered the diner.

 “Yeah, look mom, right between me and dad,” Henry piped in.

Emma glanced at the six of them, one seat between Neal and Henry, no doubt by design and one seat at the other end of the table by her dad. “Uh, I have to discuss a case with David,” she lied. And boy did that make her feel like Shittiest Mom of the Year. “I’ll come back in a few.” 

Taking off her jacket, she sat next to her dad and began speaking with him about the new project they were working on to make Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department digital. There was truly nothing she needed to discuss with him right this instant, but she could not handle another manipulation by Neal, especially in front of Henry, about getting back together. 

“Why don’t you go sit with Henry and Neal,” David whispered, “we can discuss this tomorrow at work.”

Sucking in a deep breath to tamp down the edge of anger that started to creep up on her, Emma realized there was a silver lining here. At least he had whispered.

“I’m perfectly fine where I’m at,” she quietly replied, affecting a sense of calm she didn’t really feel.

“Oh, honey,” her mother began in what was not a whisper, “go sit down there, let me get a picture of the three of you.”

And just like that, there was another brick piled on her shoulders. She understood that her parents really did want what was best for her. Why couldn’t they just magically understand that Neal wasn’t it? She could hear Neal trying to coax her over and her head started to spin. She really did need that break.

As she choked on the sob that wanted to escape, the bell above the entrance rang, and if she’d never experienced what being saved by the bell meant, she was right now. “Hook,” she murmured, just a little more breathlessly than strictly necessary. 

“What?” Snow asked. 

“Hook’s here,” Emma said. “Why don’t you join us for dinner, Hook?” Emma called over to him. He was just the buffer she needed tonight. She didn’t miss the intrigue in his eyes, which he quickly masked with a conciliatory smile that didn’t quite reach those pretty blue eyes.

“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t wish to intrude,” he answered graciously.

“You’re not intruding, we were just sitting down to eat a meal. Everyone has to eat.”

“Well, if all of their Royal Highnesses don’t mind,” he acquiesced.

“Everyone scoot one seat to their right,” Emma instructed, she didn’t expect him to sit next to Neal, not with the current state of affairs. 

Snow stared at her daughter wide eyed and Emma just stared back through narrowed eyes, hoping that her expression conveyed, he did save your husband’s life.

“Ems, I thought you were going to sit with me and Henry,” Neal asked, failing to mask the irritation in his voice.

And I thought I was meeting you with the bag of watches, not the cops, Emma thought bitterly. If Neal was going to use Henry against her, he was going to be sorry. She wasn’t going to stoop to the level of using a child to get what she wanted, but she was also not going to be bulldozed by her ex.

“That’s okay, dad,” Henry intervened. “Mom can sit with her friend. How’s the fastest ship in all the realms, Captain?”

Emma beamed at her son’s cherubic nature. He was truly good. He was innocent and perfect, and she felt like she might cry again as her young son saved her again.

“She’s jolly good, m’boy,” Hook answered merrily, obviously tickled that Henry had asked about his pride and joy. Or maybe it was simply because this boy treated him with common courtesy. Hook had vowed to himself to turn over a new leaf when he’d turned his ship around to help Emma save her son, and although he knew that, most people still treated him like the pirate they’d known him to be. 

“You okay, Swan?” Hook asked her quietly, as conversation started up around the table.

“I- yeah,” she said, slapping on a smile, and even though it was an effort to smile, she found that she wanted to smile for Hook. She also found that he knew she was lying. 

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’ve a never ending supply of rum aboard the Jolly.” 

“I might just take you up on that,” she laughed. And it felt really good to laugh. 

“I thought you said you’d back off,” Neal seethed as he walked over to their end of the table.

Emma looked between the two men before quietly sounding a warning. “We do not need another pissing contest here,” she hissed.

“Contest,” Neal fumed. “There is no contest, I’m Henry’s father, he’s a home-wrecking pirate.”

Emma’s head began to swim again as she listened to Neal berate Hook, as she read between the lines of what he’d said. He felt like he deserved her because they bore a child together. 

“Is everything okay?” David asked.

Emma closed her eyes and weakly shook her head no. She would lose it if her parents got involved.

“Here Neal, why don’t you take my seat,” Snow offered.

Emma shook her head no again, but apparently no one was looking at her. 

“Haven’t you destroyed enough lives?” Neal asked.

Emma’s eyes shot open and she’d hit just about her limit. Her throat felt like it was almost swollen shut as that urge to scream or cry or both, came raging back. 

“Haven’t you done enough damage, Hook?”

“Bae-” Hook started

“Stop calling me that!” 

“Neal,” Hook corrected, “it is not my intent to come between you and Emma. I was merely accepting the invitation she offered. I did say I would back off, I didn’t say I would ignore Emma if she requested my company.”

“Back off from what?” Emma asked, feeling a little annoyed that they’d been discussing her like a - she didn’t know what.

“Swan, I merely told Ba- Neal that I would not interfere if you two decided to pursue a chance at a family with Henry.”

“I think that is very noble, Hook,” Snow inserted. 

“Not now, mom.”

“Well Emma, it’s only fair that you two have a real shot, now that you’ve been reunited,” Snow argued, “and I was just saying that I think it’s noble of Hook to put his feelings for you aside to give you and Neal that chance.”

That was it, that was her limit. Chances? Reunited? FAIR? The lights flickered twice before pitching Granny’s in darkness. Emma stood up and placed both her palms flat down on the table.

“Regina,” Emma said in a ragged voice, barely containing her emotions, which she desperately wanted to contain with Henry present. “Take him home, please.”

“Come on, Henry. I have lasagna at home,” Regina said, without having to be asked again. She could feel the energy of the situation sizzling about, and she knew only too well the magical properties of raw emotion. Of course Henry instinctively knew to listen as well. “Granny’s is closed,” Regina announced, “Mayor’s orders.”  

The several patrons around had the good sense to slap some money on the counter and head out. 

“I love you, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Henry said as he and Regina readied to leave. He came to her end of the table and gave her a hug.

“I love you too, kid,” Emma responded as she ruffled Henry’s hair, and the lights flickered back to life. 

Once Henry and Regina were gone, Emma eyed her parents. She tried breathing in and out slowly. She didn’t want to fight, she didn’t want to hurt them, she didn’t want to cry. But something had to give. 

“Mom, Dad,” she whispered, as she knew her voice would crack if she attempted to speak in a normal voice. “I’ve been having a really-” a broken sob overtook Emma, halting her words. Her face crumbled, tears filling her eyes and falling to her cheeks, as the full weight of what she’d been dealing with overwhelmed her.

“Oh honey,” Snow cried as she stood up to try and comfort her daughter.

Emma held up a hand and shook her head no at her mother. “Please… don’t. I have to do this.”

Snow’s face fell as her daughter rejected her, but she sat back down to comply with her daughter’s wishes.  

“Go on, Emma,” her father said quietly.

Nodding her head, she took another big breath. “I’ve been having a really hard time since we came back from Neverland. I’m happy that you want a new baby, I am, but it also hurt to hear that you wanted to have a chance to experience everything we never got to, and I know that’s not your fault, but it still hurts. And I am happy that Henry has Regina, because no matter what, she really does love him. But it hurts to have to share him with her when we have a third person to share him with now, it’s less time, when I’ve already missed so much.”

“It wouldn’t be if you spent time with me and Henry,” Neal muttered.

“Goddammit, Neal!” Emma yelled, pounding her fists on the table. “You have got to stop that. I’m struggling with my parents wanting a new baby and I am struggling with sharing Henry with you. But my biggest problem, the one that eats away at me every day, is you! I can’t stand the way you try to manipulate me in front of my son, making it seem like I’m the only reason we can’t be a family. You showed up to Storybrooke with a fiancée, don’t act like you came back here to win me over or some other noble bullshit. And I can’t stand that my parents think you should be my happy ending.” Another sob choked her words and she paused to catch her breath. “You will never be my happy ending,” she yelled before leaving the diner. 

Emma jogged down the walkway, unsure of where to go, but knowing she couldn’t remain in there one second longer. She didn’t want to see the looks she’d put on her parents’ faces anymore and she didn’t want to deal with Neal. After an hour of wandering, she found herself down by the icy cold shoreline. She sat down in the freezing sand and folded her arms around her legs. Resting her chin on her knees, she lamented the fool she’d made of herself and the mess she’d made of things. 

“Awfully cold for camping at the beach,” Hook said.

Emma jumped so hard, it hurt her butt when she landed back in the unforgiving sand. “Jesus Christ, you scared me. Are you following me?”

“Sorry, love,” Hook apologized, holding hand and hook in the air as he always did when she went on the offensive. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. And no, I am not following you. I was up on the deck of my ship and saw your golden hair in the moonlight; wanted to make sure you don’t catch your death out here.” He handed her a blanket. 

“Thank you,” she said through chattering teeth, only now realizing just how cold it was. “You probably need to invest in some warmer clothes if you’re planning to stay in Storybrooke for the winter.”

“Is that an invitation, Swan?”

She just rolled her eyes as she held her hand out to him to help her up. 

“Don’t worry your heart, I am plenty hot,” he flirted, extending his hand and pulling her up.

“You are plenty full of yourself is what you are,” she laughed. “I don’t know why I ended up here. I just… I cannot go home. I should probably see if Granny has a room available. Paying her some rent is the least I could do after clearing out her customers.”

Hook scratched behind his ear, his nervous habit that always made Emma chuckle inside, because how did The Captain Hook have a nervous tic? 

“You could stay on the Jolly, if you like. You know, instead of walking back to Granny’s.” 

“Is that an invitation, Hook?” Emma countered.

“Actually, it is,” he said as he bowed deeply, holding his right hand out in the direction of his ship.  

She decided it was probably her best option for the night. She didn’t want to see her parents at the loft, she definitely didn’t want to risk running into Neal at Granny’s, and she was far too proud to ask Regina for a crash pad. So, she followed the direction of Hook’s extended hand and headed to the Jolly. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled as they headed down into the Captain’s Quarters. It was only slightly warmer below deck, and she wondered how cold he got at night. 

“Perhaps a little gratitude is in order,” he smirked, pointing his finger to his lips as he had done several weeks ago.

Emma didn’t even have to think about it this time. She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and backing him up against the wall. She kissed him just as passionately as she had back on that Hell Island, but this time, she had no intent of limiting their activities to just a kiss.

“Swan,” he moaned against her mouth.

“Hmmm?” she hummed as she continued to learn his mouth and his tongue which had come out to play. 

She loved the way his hook felt pressed at her back and the way his hand cupped her cheek before sliding into her hair. She took the opportunity to quickly run her hands up through his chest hair before shifting them up under his jacket to divest him of it. 

“Swan, stop,” he whispered between kisses. “Stop, darling.”

Emma immediately pulled back. Like, what? “What’s the problem,” she asked defensively.

“I apologize lass, it was a poorly timed Neverland reference.”

“A… joke?” Emma’s head began spinning again. One million thoughts ran through her head as her brows furrowed and panic hit her eyes. Her mouth turned down as a strangle hold settled over her... rejection. She’d had one melt down and now she was damaged goods in his eyes. A one time thing, she’d said, and he was the one who was going to enforce it. “I have to go,” she muttered, mind already on auto pilot to the lovely land of orphans-aren’t-worthy-of-love. 

Killian quickly blocked her path to the door. Bad move. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she seethed. “You don- don’t want me...”  Oh fuck, she panicked, the tears were going to start again. When would this roller coaster come crashing to a halt? Emma Swan, Dumpster Fire, she mused, it had a truer ring than Emma Swan, Savior. 

“Don’t you tell me what I want or do not want,” Hook reprimanded. “I want you, I have wanted you, far more and far longer than you know.” He stepped into her space and lifted her chin with his hook, until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Make no mistake about that, love.” A fire burned between them, something palpable, and only by sheer force of will, was Hook denying himself the pleasure she’d been looking to bring him mere moments before. 

Truth. Truth is what she saw in Hook’s eyes. “Then why are you pushing me away,” she asked, lips still quivering with the threat of tears.

“Because I won’t exploit your emotions, that would be the pinnacle of bad form.”

“What?” 

Hook took her hand and led her to sit on his bed. “Emma, you just confessed major hurt and heartache to your parents. You obviously have unresolved issues with Bae, and you’re harboring a sadness that is ruling your emotions. Despite Neverland and everything that happened there, I have never seen you this close to the brink of despair.” 

A tear slipped down as Hook brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Look at me, Emma.” 

She sniffled, but complied, as she realized he was not going to continue until she looked at him. 

“You are strong, and you will get through this, but a quick romp in the sack is not part of the solution. I cannot in good conscience let you lead us down a path that you will undoubtedly regret. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

“If I don’t get to tell you what you do or don’t want, then you shouldn’t get to tell me what I will or won’t regret,” she huffed.

Hook smiled at the fire that lit his Swan, and continued on, “I did promise Bae that I would back off, I thought it was best for Henry, if it was what you wanted as well.”

“I don’t want that,” Emma interrupted. 

“I know you don’t want that. Tonight made that clear,” he assured her. “But tonight also showed that you have some things to work out. I am here for you, Emma, and no matter what our future holds, I will stand by your side and help you traverse all of it. But where matters of our hearts are concerned, I cannot be your port in this storm if you only plan to pack up and set sail when the tide calms and the tempest parts.”

Tears surged forth once more as she lunged at Hook again, but this time just to throw herself into his embrace. She didn’t even know why she was crying, but she knew that this, him, everything he’d just said, this was what she needed. Someone to stand by her side, someone to accept her for her, someone who knew that she had shitty baggage but was okay with it and wanted to help her lighten her load. “I just want to forget, I want five minutes where I don’t feel like everything is closing around me like a vice.” 

“That’s it lass, everything is going to be okay, I promise,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. “Let it out, crying can be quite cathartic when you let it.” 

Emma cried a little harder as she listened to his soothing voice. She sat up many moments later when she’d cried herself out. Wiping away her tears, she looked at the man next to her. “How did you get so wise,” she asked in a nasally, I’ve-been-crying voice.

“How’s that?”

“About crying being cathartic.”

“Ah,” Hook chuckled as he blushed a bit. “You pick up some things as the centuries pass. I may have learned that sometimes letting out pent up emotion is better than harbouring it until it blows up.” 

“Thank you, Killian,” she whispered, before leaning in and tenderly placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You called me Killian.”

The bit of awe in his eyes made Emma giggle. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Aye, but you know what I mean, love,” he chuckled with her.

She laughed again until she was caught in a yawn that wracked her whole body. 

“Let me get you something to sleep in.” Hook went to an antique armoire and pulled out one of his shirts and a pair of long johns. “These should keep you warm.” After handing them to her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll let you get some rest, no doubt your day has been taxing.” Then he turned to leave. 

Before he could make it to the door, Emma reached out to grab his hook. He turned around to see what she needed.

“Will you stay with me?”

His eyes pleaded with her not to tempt him into breaking his word. His good form. 

“I promise I won’t jump your bones, sailor.” She rolled her eyes playfully, but then she glanced away and folded her arms around herself, a vulnerability encasing her whole form before she spoke again. “I just want you to hold me,” she whispered. 

His chest ached for her, for this tender side of Emma Swan that he’d never been privy to. Why would he ever deny her something as simple as holding her? “Of course, love.” After changing into something passable for sleep attire, he joined Emma in his bed. 

“I know this is going to sound sappy, but today, at Granny’s, when you showed up, I was on the brink of losing my mind,” Emma confessed as she lay snuggled against his side, his right arm wrapped around her, making her feel safe. “But when I saw you, I felt like… like I might be able to get through it, like everything would be okay, if only you were with me. That’s why I asked you to stay.”

“And did it help, having me there?”

“All I know is, even though I didn’t say everything I need to get off my chest, I did get through part of it, and I am glad you were there.” 

“Happy to oblige, darling.” Hook craned his neck forward to place a kiss to the crown of her head. 

Pulling the blankets up to her neck, Emma shivered. “Give me your other arm, you’re warmer than these blankets.” 

“My hook,” he said, holding up the shiny version of his moniker. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally harm you.” 

“Then take it off,” Emma responded as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“I don’t think so, love.”

“Why not?” she asked, sitting up to look at him.

Hook took advantage of his freed arm and scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s not a sight I wish you to see, it’s actually quite revolting.”

“I don’t believe for a second that any part of Killian Jones is revolting,” Emma said, gently pulling his left arm toward her. 

“Swan,” he groaned.

“Killian, you saw me at my most vulnerable today, and you didn’t run for the hills. I won’t either,” she promised softly. “I don’t think you understand that what I like about you is this,” she placed her hand over his heart, “the man you are.” 

Killian placed his hand over hers, where it rested on his chest and brought it to his brace. “Okay then, go ahead.” 

Carefully unfastening the buckles, Emma pulled the entire brace away from his arm. She held his forearm in one hand and ran the fingers of her other hand over the scarred flesh, inspecting the damage. Although Hook was right, it wasn’t a “pretty” sight, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have had her believe. “Does it still hurt?”

“Aye, sometimes.”

She delicately massaged in a downward motion, from his forearm to the end of his wrist, and watched his face. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but rather, watching her ministrations. He looked half panic stricken, like he might bolt, and half enchanted by her touch. She followed the pattern several times until he’d fully relaxed to her touch. “See, was that so bad?”

Hook’s face was a deep shade of red and his entire body had broken out in goosebumps. He didn’t know how to answer her question. He had never willingly let another person see his mutilated arm, let alone touch it. On one hand, it was that bad, he felt laid bare before her and he was still dressed. On the other hand, or hook, as it were, he felt something akin to what she had explained earlier, like he would be okay, because she was there. “I suppose not,” he murmured, all the more enamored by this enchanting woman.

“Good.” Laying back down, she wrapped both his arms around her and snuggled into him. “Much better.” Emma slept better that night than she had since they’d come home from Neverland. 

Tagging some lovelies - please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard  @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap  @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells

[capcarolsdanver]

Arms Up

Request: Carol danvers x female reader where carol who has the biggest crush on her friend the reader, gives her hand combat lessons. Then of course flustering and blushing on both ends ensues, due to their very close proximity and physical touch. Please let the reader make the first move when carol is just too close and after they’ve been holding eye contact forever. Thank you, and please make it extra fluffy and romantic. (I loved faking it btw!) Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader A/N: Hey there! It’s been far too long since I’ve posted anything! I’ve missed it so much, but also needed the break from it, so I thank everyone for being so patient with me while I took my time getting back into writing. At the best of times, I’m never 100% happy with anything I write, so having this be my first fic in months has me really nervous. I apologise if I’m a little rusty! Any feedback is very much appreciated, and as always, I hope you enjoy it! Please do not repost my writing anywhere without my permission.

Carol paces the length of the training room floor, her nerves absolutely buzzing. She showed up early in the hopes of reigning in this feeling that she’s had since she offered to help you train the previous day, but to her dismay, luck is apparently not on her side.

It’s a feeling that she’s familiar with, though she is far from fond of it. She’s Captain Marvel. She can’t be nervous, it just doesn’t fit her persona.

Still, she lets her mind wander to the reason why she’s been so uncharacteristically nervous so often for the past few months. You.

The previous evening when you had returned from your mission nursing a bloodied nose and a busted lip, you had walked up to Carol feeling pretty sorry for yourself. She had looked at you with concern, wincing at the damage to your face.

“Son of a bitch got a couple lucky punches in,” you pouted.

Carol chuckled lightly, knowing fully well that you would recover from your injuries in no time, but still studying you carefully anyway.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve been relying too much on my powers,” you offered as an explanation, gingerly touching the wound to your lip to check that it hadn’t started bleeding again. “I’ve obviously been slacking with my combat training.”

Carol’s eyes snap up from where they had been watching your fingers touch your lip to meet your eyes. “I could run you through some training sessions,” she says. “I mean, if you want.”

“Really? You’d do that?” You asked, a new sense of energy running through you despite the exhaustion that weighed down heavily on your entire body from your mission.

“Of course I would,” she said, something about her tone making you nervous.

“That would be awesome, Carol! But please just prepare yourself. I’m pretty rusty.” You tried to pull your lips into an apologetic smile, though it quickly turned into a wince at the pain the movement caused to your busted lip.

“Yeah, something about your face right now tells me you might be more than a little rusty,” Carol joked, letting out a laugh at your glare and easily dodging your arm when you threw it her way. “Looks like we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, unable to stop a smile from gracing your lips, however slight it may have been.

Carol is suddenly snapped out of her daydream at the sound of the gym door swinging open. Her eyes fly to the door, hoping to see you walk through the open doorway. When she instead sees Nat and Clint enter the room, chatting away as usual, she visibly deflates.

“Damn, don’t be too disappointed to see us, Danvers.”

“No, sorry,” Carol quickly says. “I’m not.”

“Sure,” Nat says, eyeing her. “You waiting for someone in particular?”

She can tell from the look on Natasha’s face that she knows exactly who Carol’s waiting for.

“I’m training with Y/N today,” she says, trying to pass it off as nothing, but she catches Nat’s growing smirk. “Shut up,” she mutters, her face heating up.

Nat laughs loudly at Carol’s embarrassment, shouting out a “Have fun!” as her and Clint walk off to the other side of the gym to set up for their own training.

Carol watches them walk away, embarrassment now mixing with her nerves. She heads over to one of the punching bags to hopefully release some of her completely unwelcome nerves before you arrive. It actually works for a while and she quickly falls into a rhythm, circling the punching bag and delivering blow after blow, completely oblivious to everything around her.

“I see you got started without me.”

Your voice from behind her makes Carol jump. She turns around in a flash to face you, heaving out a few heavy breaths. You make an attempt to stifle a laugh, though your laughter completes fades anyway when your eyes take it upon themselves to rake over Carol’s body.

She’s wearing a crop top and a pair of tight leggings, not unusual gym attire for her but you don’t usually get to see it up close like this. Her defined abs are on full display, glimmering with sweat and it takes you several seconds too long to drag your eyes from her body to her face.

Carol doesn’t seem to notice your staring, her own eyes taking in your appearance too, before you both meet each other’s gaze.

“Nope, just warming up,” Carol finally says, and it takes you a second to realise she’s replying to you, having almost forgotten you had even said anything to begin with. “I’m ready when you are.”

She leads you over to an empty sparring mat, picking up her towel on the way and wiping the sweat from her face. You watch her with rapt attention.

God, she’s magnificent.

In between this and watching her pick up her water bottle to squirt some water into her mouth, you realise that maybe taking her up on her offer to train with you wasn’t exactly the smartest idea. Sure, you were always looking for any excuse to spend more time with Carol, but this could actually be the death of you. Of course, that thought quickly leaves your mind a moment later when she smiles at you and beckons you over to her.

You unceremoniously dump your gym bag on the floor next to Carol’s and grin at her, stepping in front of her on the padded floor of the sparring area.

“Let’s just ease into this, okay?” Carol says, rolling her shoulders back and shaking her arms to loosen up a little more.

“Okay,” you say absentmindedly, distracted by the view in front of you. Carol looks at you expectantly for a moment before reaching for your hands and lifting them in front of you in a defensive pose.

“Arms up.”

“Right.” You shake your head to bring yourself back to reality and focus on Carol’s stance. You attempt to copy it, your body moving stiffly, and earn yourself a laugh from Carol.

“God, no wonder you got punched so easily.”

“Hey!” You retort, taking a friendly swipe at Carol which she is quick to redirect, catching you completely off guard and throwing you off balance.

“Oh, you’re in for it now, Danvers!” You exclaim, regaining your balance and going for a straight punch at her.

She easily turns her body out of the way and you lurch forward again. Within a second, she’s moved herself behind you, throwing her arm around you to capture you in a light headlock.

“You sure about that?” She teases.

She’s clearly enjoying herself far too much, smug as ever, and she refuses to budge even as you try to shimmy your way out of her hold. Her smirk is only knocked off her face when your hands land on her arm and she suddenly seems to realise the position she’s put you both in. She glances at your face, mere inches from her own, before she quickly releases you and steps back to let you ready yourself again.

She has distinctively flushed cheeks, which normally you would  assume was a side effect of working out. Except for the fact that she’s Captain Marvel, and so she doesn’t generally deal with the common side effects people normally deal with from working out.

You brush it off though, figuring that your cheeks are probably just as flushed as hers.

Carol clears her throat and joins you again, her hands raised in fists.

“Let’s do some defensive work,” she says, getting back on track. “I’m gonna throw some punches at you and I just want you to avoid them, okay?”

“That’s all there is to it? Jeez, I wish I knew that earlier,” you sigh sarcastically. “Could have avoided getting a split lip yesterday.”

Luckily, said split lip had almost completely healed since the mission yesterday. Like Carol, you can also regenerate and heal yourself, although at a slower pace than her.

Carol chuckles. “That’s really as simple as it gets, Y/N. You only need to avoid a punch enough that you can put yourself back into a dominant position.”

You come close to blurting out a joke about Carol wanting you in a dominant position, but think better of it and keep your words to yourself. You’re both already flustered enough without any additional sexual jokes.

“Arms up,” she reminds you and waits until you’re in position before she continues. “I’ll go slow for now, okay?” She says and when you nod she throws a slow punch your way, in line with your chest. You dodge her fist, moving to the left, but struggle to straighten up in time to dodge her next punch from the right and she stops before she makes contact with you.

“Remember to rotate your body. You want to use as little effort as possible avoiding an attack.”

She demonstrates for you a few times, reenacting the movement she wants you to do. You nod, trying not to let your eyes wander yet again as you watch her and try to mirror her movements. When she seems satisfied enough she goes back to throwing slow punches at you, and you successfully manage to dodge them all.

“Good,” she nods, her eyes intensely observing you. “You can try using your hands to redirect my punches, too.” You do as she says, though your actions are more of a swat at her punching hand than anything.

She laughs at your exaggerated movements. “Wow, you really haven’t done this in a while, have you?”

“Rude,” you mumble, letting your arms fall to your sides when Carol stops punching. She takes a step towards you and you almost instinctively step back, but force yourself to stay in place. You do, however, flinch ever so slightly when Carol reaches for your arms and lifts them back up in front of you.

You hope she can’t feel the nervous energy practically radiating off of you.

“Arms up,” she says once more, smirking when you roll your eyes at her.

“Say that one more time. I dare you.”

“Oh yeah?” She says, a playful eyebrow raising. “And what’ll happen if I do? It’s not like you can fight back.”

“Hey!” You exclaim, and she attempts to bite back a laugh when you glare at her. “This is just getting downright insulting now.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” She chuckles once more before composing herself and regarding you with warm eyes. “I’ll stop. Look, it’s a lot less complicated than you probably think it is. Your hands make the contact.” She touches your hands with her own. “But your shoulders are actually doing the motion for you.” Her hands move to your shoulders.

She leaves them there for a good few seconds, seemingly forgetting what she’s doing before she locks eyes with you and blinks. She clears her throat and quickly steps back. You try not to physically react to the disappointment you feel at the loss of her touch.

She demonstrates what she means for you again, but if you’re being honest your eyes are concentrating more on her blushing cheeks, an even deeper shade of red than they were before. You can’t remember ever seeing her this flustered, and the thought of her acting this way because of you kind of has you beaming on the inside.

Sure, you can admit to yourself that you have had a crush on Carol for just about as long as you can remember, but you could never have predicted that those feelings would be reciprocated, as much as you had hoped.

There were certain moments with Carol where you had wondered if she did have those same feelings for you, but you’d replay those moments over and over in your mind until you’d convince yourself you’d just imagined things.

Now, though, you’re not so sure you had imagined it at all.

You somehow manage to pay attention for long enough that you can grasp what Carol is trying to show you and you get through a few minutes of Carol throwing punches and you deflecting them with your palms, your body mimicking Carol’s earlier movements.

“Great work, Y/N!” Carol says after a while, sounding pleasantly surprised. You’re just as surprised as she is, but only because you’d actually managed to not mess up while your mind had been elsewhere. Instead of admitting that, though, you simply shrug.

“Well, I suppose I should give some of that credit to my instructor too,” you say. “Seems like I’m in good hands.” She smirks in return, drawing closer to you once more. She exudes the confidence you’re familiar with, apparently overcoming the nerves she was battling with only minutes ago.

“Well, what did you expect when you came to the Captain Marvel for help?” She drawls, a cocky tone to her voice, and you roll your eyes to mask the sudden thrill you feel throughout your body at her rich voice.

“You’re name dropping yourself, now?” You raise an eyebrow but her smirk stays in place. “And I’m sorry, but if I’m not mistaken it was actually you who came and offered me that help.”

“Wow, you’re right,” she plays along, a playful glint in her eyes now. “A great teacher and a generous person. Man, I’m really something, huh?”

“So humble, too!” You enthuse sarcastically, though you can’t help but laugh. “Don’t get too cocky, Danvers. So far you’ve only taught me how to avoid punches in slow motion. If I got into another fight right now I think I’d end up in the exact same condition as I was last night.”

“Patience, Grasshopper,” Carol jokes, closing the distance between the two of you even further and touching your arm with her hand, keeping it there. You fight the urge to look at her hand, instead holding eye contact with Carol. “There’s still a lot for you to learn.”

“Like what?” You ask, fixated on Carol. The two of you barely have a foot between you but you still want to be closer to her.

“Like how to catch your opponent off guard.” You raise an eyebrow, a silent prompt for Carol to elaborate, and she chuckles before she continues. “You know. The element of surprise.”

“The element of surprise?”

“Mhm,” Carol nods. “It’s great knowing how to evade an attack, but it’s even better learning to recognise when there’s a potential opening for you to turn the tables and get the upper hand.”

“Right.” You nod along, playing her words over in your mind. Carol’s hand shifts slightly on your arm and this time you do lower your gaze to it for a moment. When you look back up, Carol seems completely entranced and you force yourself not to shift under her intense gaze.

Instead, you let Carol’s now apparent interest in you fuel your growing confidence. How you had never noticed it before, you don’t know. It seems like the most obvious thing to you right now.

Carol must at some point realise that she’s lost herself staring at you again because she eventually drops her hand and takes a step back.

“Let’s go again, this time a little faster,” Carol says and you stand in your defensive pose, waiting for Carol to take the lead. She’s clearly just as distracted as you, her eyes glued to you a moment longer before she stands in her own sparring pose. “Ready?”

Her words replay in your head again. The element of surprise. Your sudden wave of confidence quickly formulates its own plan, and as if to cement that plan in place, you see Carol’s eyes dart to your lips while she waits for your reply, spurring you on even more.

Before you put too much thought into it, you’re surging forward, your lips crashing into Carol’s in a rushed kiss.

She gasps against your lips in surprise and you feel her stumble backwards a little before she becomes more stable again. The kiss is only quick and you break away from Carol, leaving barely an inch between your lips. When you feel her lean towards you, you step back again, a smirk on your face.

“Now I’m ready.” You return back to your defensive pose. She looks dazed, her mouth hanging open as if she was trying to figure out if she’d just entirely imagined what had just happened. You raise an eyebrow at her, surveying her stance.

“Arms up,” you say, your smirk only growing with the absolute satisfaction you feel by throwing her own words back at her. She lets out a short laugh, unable to hold back a wide smile as she shakes her head at you in amusement.

“You’re unbelievable,” she says, not giving you a chance to respond before it’s her turn to press forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that leaves you gasping for breath. A moment later, she does put her arms up, throwing them over your shoulders to pull your body even closer while you slide your own hands around her waist, completely losing your mind at the feel of her bare skin under your palms.

The two of you are so lost in your own world that Natasha’s hollering from across the gym is just barely enough to pull you apart long enough for Carol to shout a few choice words back at her, offering her the middle finger as she grabs your hand with her free hand and pulls you towards the gym doors.

“I think that’s enough training for today. What do you say?”

You’ve never agreed with something so quickly before.

[madpanda75]

“Penance”

For @thatesqcrush’s kink bingo--I’ve been loving everyone’s contributions to the challenge so I thought I would try my hand at it!

Jonas Nightingale x Reader for the Gags square ( my first Jonas fic! Warning-- I’ve never seen “Leap of Faith so please be kind)

Double Warning: This is SUPER NSFW. There’s BDSM, ball gags, fisting, squirting, forced orgasms, and a pinch of priest kink (even though Jonas is a “reverend” not a priest)

Hold on to your butts and get your splash guards out!

Sam Nightingale sat cross-legged in front of the pulpit. A frigid blast slapped her in the face and she silently praised whoever invented air conditioning. Rather than pitching a tent and sweating her ass off in an abandoned field out in east Jesus nowhere, the local pastor had insisted that she and Jonas use his church for their revival.

With a glint in her eye, she gazed down at her lap overflowing with dollar bills. Ten. Twenties. Fifties. Even a few hundreds from the wealthier church patrons. Every dollar counted, she could hear a cash register cha-ching in her brain. Ah, the simple-minded naivety of the Midwest. It was like taking candy from a baby. “Damn, Jonas.” She shook her head in amazement. “We made bank today. Who knew Nebraskeners were so generous? I swear you wave around a Bible and the promise of redemption in front of folks and the money flows.” 

Her comments were greeted with silence. “Jonas?” She glanced up to see her brother lying on the front pew, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. “Hello? Earth to Jonas!” She grabbed her pack of menthols and chucked them at her brother, gaining his attention.

“Huh? Ya’ say something?” 

“Uhhh, yeah.” Sam made a show of flipping through a large wad of cash. “Here I am drowning in Benjamins and you’re out in la la land. What’s with you today?”

Jonas shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? You sure about that?” She walked over and knocked his feet off the pew, plopping down right next to him. “Cause you were distracted during the church service. I had to basically feed you your lines through the microphone. Please tell me you haven’t found your moral compass or something.”

He snorted a laugh. “Hell would freeze over before that happens.” Coming back to his senses, he spotted the sea of green nestled in his sister’s lap and whistled. “All that came from today?”

“Yep.”

“We should add an afternoon service if we stick around here. We’ll make twice as much.”

A dramatic sigh of relief below past Sam’s lips. “There’s the swindler I know and love. You had me worried there for a moment.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jonas grabbed the cash and began counting the bills when the door opened. “The Senior Bingo is being held around the corner in the rec room,” he said over his shoulder.

“Actually I’m looking for you,” a soft sultry voice called out. A voice that made Jonas whip his head around.

“It’s you,” he whispered and shot straight up out of the pew, the dollar bills in his lap now floating to the floor like confetti. 

Sam immediately began to pick up the stray money while Jonas stood there, staring at you. You were wearing a demure, white cotton sundress that screamed virgin, but the ruby red shade of your lipstick purred vixen. His sister was right, he had been distracted and now that distraction was standing in the middle of the aisle. He could feel his pants begin to bulge at the mere sight of you biting your bottom lip.

 “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” you said with an apologetic smile.

“Oh don’t worry about it.” Sam stood up and patted her brother on the back, noticing the way his demeanor changed the minute you walked through the door. “This guy has been out of it all day. Although I think I’m beginning to realize why.” 

Jonas glared at his sister before turning back to you. “How can I help you?”

You fidgeted a bit, wringing the leather strap of your purse. “Actually, I was hoping we could speak in private, Reverend.” 

“I’m gonna go check on that bingo. See if they have someone to call the numbers,” Sam said after an awkward pause. She gave Jonas a sly wink before walking out the door.

“Please have a seat.” Jonas ushered you to a pew. His heart was racing and sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead. There was something about you that made him nervous. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but whatever it was, you disarmed him completely. 

He took a deep breath and tried to recover. After all he was the King of Sin. If he could con people out of money under the guise of salvation, he could certainly handle talking to a beautiful woman.

 “I’m glad you came in today,” he said.

“You are?”

Jonas nodded his head and took a seat next to you. “I noticed you during the service. I could sense that something was weighing heavily on your soul.”

You looked down for a moment, hesitant to speak before finally confessing. “There is.” 

“Don’t be bashful.” He reached out and patted your knee in reassurance, his thumb gliding across your skin. “You can trust me. I help all those who are lost and right now you look like a little lamb that has strayed from the flock.”

“I...I... struggle with the sin of lust,” you replied in a voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks turned bright red, nearly matching the shade of lipstick you were wearing.

Jonas felt his interest peak. “Go on,” he encouraged.

“I have certain...proclivities. I’ve tried to quell these dark desires, but I need help. My need is constant.” You let out a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering shut.

Little did you know, you were an answer to Jonas’ prayers (if in fact he ever did pray). It had been ages since he had gotten laid and you were just his type. It was as if the heavens opened and a choir of angels were singing ‘Hallelujah.’ He cleared his throat. “I think I can be of service.” 

“Thank you!” Relief washed over your face before you became serious. “But I have to warn you others have tried and failed.” You leaned forward, your knees now touching his. He could smell the seductive notes of your perfume: lotus blossom and black orchid. “Do you think you are up to the challenge?” you practically purred.

Jonas licked his lips and let his eyes drink you in from head to toe. He felt smugly satisfied noticing your heaving chest, the way your nipples hardened against the fabric of your dress. “Sure, I’ll guide you on my cock,” he thought. 

But rather than make this blunt point and risk you running out of the church, disgusted. He gently cupped your face and stared into your eyes with a deep sincerity. “I can assure you, I won’t stop until we tame the fire that burns deep within you. I am relentless in my dedication to saving souls.” 

What happened next sent shockwaves down the wily con artist’s spine. Parting your lips, you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking and gliding your tongue against the digit. Jonas gasped, feeling you bite down on the meaty flesh before pulling off with a pop. 

You tucked your purse under your arm and stood up, smoothing down your dress. “Thank you, Reverend. I’ll be in touch.” You went to the door before pausing and looking over your shoulder. “By the way, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”  With an innocent smile, you left Jonas sitting there, completely stunned. 

*****

The old secretary glanced up as soon as you walked into the church office. “The Reverend will be with you in a moment. Why don’t you take a seat.” She motioned towards a chair. 

“Thank you.” You sat down and crossed your legs, admiring your new black Louboutin heels. 

The sound of an old fire and brimstone preacher played from a radio on the secretary’s desk. “Fornication is not just a sin against another person. It is a sin against ourselves. It is self destructive and we must avoid it at all costs!”

You arched a brow at the secretary, who gave you a tight smile and turned down the volume. You couldn’t help but bite back a laugh. The irony of the sermon was not lost on you.

It had been three weeks since you met Jonas. You were in town for a few months visiting your grandmother and she insisted on dragging your butt out of bed to the sunrise Sunday service at her church. Luckily for you, instead of the regular reverend (who was as old as Methuselah), there was a handsome, charismatic guest preacher in his place. Having never been an avid church-goer before, you were quite taken with the eye candy professing salvation for all sinners from the pulpit. 

After the service, you dropped off your grandmother at her bingo game and decided to have a little fun by giving into your more baser instincts. How else were you supposed to entertain yourself in a dusty dried up old town? You knew how to play the game. With your chaste couture and coquettish ways, you caught Jonas Nightingale--hook, line, and sinker.

Just then Jonas walked into the office, freezing in his tracks the second he laid eyes on you. “Ms. Y/L/N.” He took off his aviator shades and smirked. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“I know we had a session yesterday, but I think I need more spiritual guidance.” You ran a delicate hand down the slope of your neck and gave him a shy smile.

Jonas ran his tongue across his teeth, a low growl emanating from his chest. “Of course, please step into my office.” You stood up and followed him. Before shutting the door, Jonas turned towards the secretary. “Why don’t you get out of here and take a long lunch.”

“Are you sure?” the secretary asked, leaning over the desk to try and peek into his office.

“Absolutely. It’s been a slow day. Go out. Live a little.” Jonas sighed in relief, watching as she grabbed her purse and needlepoint. She was on loan to him from the church. The woman was your typical nosy, uptight old bat with a stick up her ass, but she made great coffee and would bring in freshly baked cookies every week.

As soon as the secretary left, he stepped into his office and locked the door. “I thought you were supposed to come by tonight. Just couldn’t wait, could ya?” he teased and removed his shirt, leaving him in a black tank top. 

You bit your bottom lip, staring at his muscular arms. “I had to come here.”

“Oh you did?” 

You blushed and fidgeted with your coat. “You see, I was very, very naughty. I was thinking about you all morning and I had to touch myself. I sinned, Reverend and you told me that those who disobey God’s laws must do penance.” You made a show of unbuttoning your coat and letting it fall to the floor, revealing that you were completely naked.

Jonas stalked up to you, looking like the big bad wolf. He walked in a slow circle around you, inspecting every inch of your flesh before stopping right behind you and grabbing your hips, pulling you flush to him. His lips brushed over your pulse point and all too soon he walked away.

With the crook of his finger, he beckoned you over to the chair in front of his desk. You obliged his silent request and sat down. Sinking to his knees before you, he planted a brutal, bruising kiss on your lips, thrusting his tongue into your mouth. He pulled away and went over to his desk. “You remember the safe word?” he asked, opening a drawer.

“Bakker,” you replied. 

Jonas chuckled. When you two began these escapades, you picked “Bakker” for your safe word. The last name of the infamous Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, two TV televangelists who were found guilty of fraud in the 80s. It was your subtle way of telling Jonas that you saw right through him and didn’t believe his act for a second. As long as your grandmother didn’t give him any money, his secret was safe with you. Besides, Jonas was just as much a freak as you were and he was the best sex you ever had.

Reaching into the drawer, he pulled out several items, one of them being a blindfold. “You know, I can’t promise that I’ll be gentle,” he purred as he covered your eyes.

A smile tugged at your lips. “You should know by now that I don’t want you to be gentle. Don’t hold back.”

“Challenge accepted,” Jonas thought as he grabbed some nylon ropes. He grabbed your arms and began to tie them behind the chair.

Your pulse quickened in anticipation. “Tighter,” you demanded in a breathy moan.

He yanked the ropes taut making you gasp. “Let me be the judge of that,” he growled, biting your earlobe. He spread your legs, tying each one to the leg of the chair. Your pussy glistened as you were already wet from masturbating all morning. The scent of your arousal filled his nostrils and made his cock twitch.

Tied and blindfolded, you thought Jonas would get down to business, but he had a few more surprises up his sleeves. He took out a white ball gag with a leather strap and some honey. After squirting some honey onto the ball gag, he cupped your chin and forced your mouth open. “Don’t you dare spit this out,” he threatened, fastening the leather strap behind your head.

You felt the ball wedge between your teeth. The sweet hit of the honey coating your tongue. Jonas has done his research. He knew that the combination of the honey and the ball gag would make you drool, giving you that hint of humiliation you craved. 

He sat back on his haunches and admired his work: the knots of nylon binding you to the chair, the way your lips wrapped around the ball gag, the rise and fall of your flushed chest. You were a work of art. Michelangelo had the Sistine Chapel and Jonas had you.

He knelt down and kissed the top of your right foot before slowly dragging his tongue up your leg, nibbling on your inner thighs and then trailing down your left leg, planting a final kiss on your left foot. 

He parted your swollen pussy lips and licked your pink, quivering flesh, reveling in the way you whimpered and squirmed. When he wrapped his mouth around your clit, you jerked forward only to remember that you were restrained. He alternated between fucking you with his tongue and lapping at your clit. Being blindfolded only heightened your senses and right now it felt like Jonas was eating you out as if you were an all you can eat pancake breakfast.

You threw your head back and moaned, trying to arch your hips to give him even more access to your core. He reached his hands up and began to massage your breasts, pinching your nipples until they swelled and ached in pleasure. Your thighs began to shake and Jonas knew you were close. One final tweak of your taut nipple and your orgasm rippled through you. 

Jonas groaned and nodded his head vigorously, flicking against your nub as you rode out your ecstasy. “Jonas!” you wailed in a muffled tone, although the ball gag was preventing you from speaking much. 

He hummed in contentment and smacked his lips together, tracing your entrance with a single digit. You squeaked in surprise.“Shhh,” he cooed. “Calm down, my angel. We’ve barely begun. How many fingers do you think you can take? One?”

You shook your head no.

“Two?”

You shook your head again. Jonas arched a brow, even though you couldn’t see him. He knew what you wanted. When he got up to five. You nodded. 

“So fucking greedy.” He spread you even wider. “You think you can take it?”

You nodded once more and undulated your hips. He began to finger fuck you, starting with his index finger, thrusting into you hard and fast while pressing on your clit until you howled. The second finger, he scissored you, slowly stretching you out, stroking your walls, studying the way you whimpered and wailed. He slowly added a third digit, finding that secret spot within you that so few men ever find. 

The buildup was unbearable as your hips stuttered forward, coming once more. Even though you were soaking wet, Jonas squirted lube onto his fourth finger firmly believing in the philosophy of, “the wetter, the better.” He slowly moved in and out of you, swiping against your clit. 

With each digit he added, you came harder and harder. Tears slid down your face from underneath your blindfold. Your muscles began to spasm, your nerve endings tingled. Jonas cruelly laughed. “Look at you, creaming on my fingers like a little slut.” 

You wailed out another orgasm in response. How long had you been sitting there? Hours? Your body experienced a rollercoaster of emotions. Every time you came, you loathed it. You craved it. You wanted him to stop. No, don’t stop! Don’t ever, ever, ever stop! You wanted more and more and more and that’s exactly what Jonas gave you.

After adding even more lube, he tucked his thumb into his palm, tapering his fingers and slowly penetrating you, pushing past the knuckles until his entire hand was deep inside you. Jonas had never fisted anyone before, but you had untapped desires within him that he had no idea even existed.

He began to rock his large hand back and forth. You sobbed in pleasure. You were stretched and filled to the brim, feeling tremendous pressure. You couldn’t catch your breath. Being tied, blindfolded, and gagged, all you could do was take it. While fisting you, Jonas leaned forward and began sucking on your clit. 

Your muffled moans of “Oh fuck! Oh yes! Yes! Yes!” filled the room as he unleashed his torture on your slick, hot cunt. He crooked and wiggled his fingers, massaging your G-spot. You screamed in ecstasy. Your orgasm was earth shattering. You felt a gush of liquid and squirted all over Jonas’ face.

“That’s it, my sweet angel. Squirt for me,” he groaned, almost coming in his pants at the sensation of your sweet nectar all over his face, a puddle amassing beneath your chair.

Jonas slowly took his hand out, one finger at a time. He reached up and cupped your face, you could feel your arousal from his one hand, coating your cheek. “You’re not done yet. I want one more from you,” he commanded as he began to unbound you.

You meekly nodded your head. He gave you an open mouth kiss over your ball gag and gently lifted you up so he could sit down. You were still blindfolded. The sound of a zipper and rustling of his denim, alerted you that he had taken out his cock.

You rocked against his length, his crown rubbing against your overly sensitive clit. Moving at a snail’s pace, you sank down onto his cock. Jonas’ fingers may have been long and thick, but nothing could replace being filled by his cock. After your initial meeting, you quickly understand why the man exuded a prowess on the church stage, swinging his big dick energy at anyone with a pulse. 

Jonas let out a strangled moan and grabbed your hips, encouraging you to fuck him.

You bounced up and down on his cock. He had given you so much pleasure and now you wanted to return the favor. You contracted your muscles, squeezing around him. Drool dribbled down your chin and onto your breasts from the combination of the honey and the ball gag. He lowered his head to lap it up and suck your nipples.

Smothered by your chest, he growled and gripped your hips, thrusting up into you. Your head lolled back. You loved this, being used as a sex toy. Your whole body screamed. Take me! Devour me! I’m yours! 

The wooden chair creaked and was on the verge of breaking, but neither of you cared. “Fuck! Jesus! Jonas!” you mumbled, climaxing one final time, your vision fading to black while riding out your orgasm. Pain and pleasure melding together.

Jonas’ hips began to stutter. “Oh Y/N!” he moaned. “I’m coming! I’m coming!” He grunted like an animal, pulsing inside you, filling you with his cum. His body tensed, coming so much that it seeped out of you and pooled around the base of his cock, creating a mess. Not that either of you noticed, you were both already plastered in sticky sweat

You went limp and melted against him, snuggling into the crook of his neck, mewling like a kitten. Once Jonas caught his breath, he pulled you away to take off the gag and blindfold. Gazing up at you with the sunlight illuminating your face, that feeling of disarmament overpowered him once more. He was completely at your mercy, bared to you. There was no escaping your trance. 

This was meant to be your penance. Your punishment. But instead, it was Jonas that choked out one final word, “Amen.”

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