#THE LITTLE LIGHTS R SO GOOD AND I LOVE HOW FOGGY YOU MADE IT LOOK
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dressycobra7 · 2 months ago
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@aboutchicken298 @cherry-blossom-consumer @mylenapony11 LOOK AT HOW GOOD THIS IS!!!!!
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the pale garden
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hippiepowrs · 7 months ago
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weed smoking boyfriend
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eddie munson x gn!reader
a/n: hi sorry i disappeared i had a lot going on but i could not miss this special day so here's a lil blurb for all who celebrate. idk if 420 was popularized by 86/87 but since it originated in 71 we're going to pretend, okay???
warnings: weed. a lot of weed smoking. r and eddie both very very stoned. fluff. established relationship. making out but nothing bad.
wc: 562
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Eddie isn’t exactly a holiday guy. Sure, he likes a good day off from school or work, but he doesn’t love the capitalistic ideals that seeped their way into every holiday that could’ve been enjoyable to him. 
But Eddie will never, ever give up an excuse to get stoned off his ass. 
He’s lucky that Wayne will be out all day. Even if that man put up with a lot, Eddie would probably get his ass beat for hotboxing the entire fucking trailer. 
The two of you are on his bed. Eddie, sat against the headboard, and you on the foot of the bed, laying on your stomach. A foggy haze covers the entire room, a result of the nausea-inducing amount of weed the two of you have smoked. You went between joints and his bong, just to have some variety. 
Now, both of you lay there, absolutely blasted out of your minds, barely able to conjure up a single thought. 
“Baby,” he giggles, “do you think that, like,” he pauses, “I don’t know.” 
Thinking that he’s the pinnacle of comedy, you silently laugh so hard that tears form in the corners of your eyes. 
“Come here.” He puts out grabby hands towards you, urging you to lay next to him. 
Obliging his request, you crawl your way up the bed and lay your head right next to his, staring right into his sleepy eyes. 
“Your eyes are, like, so brown.” You say in awe, quickly devolving into yet another fit of giggles. 
“Yours are, like, uh, they’re really pretty?” He says, seemingly unsure of his words in his inflection. The goofy grin plastered on his face speaks differently, telling you he is totally infatuated with the way your eyes looked, looking at his own. 
His eyes dart down to your lips, signaling to you that he wants to kiss you—which you’re able to pick up on, no matter how high you are. 
The kiss is gentle, yet sloppy, the two of you so uncoordinated that spit is getting all over your faces. Eddie’s hands quickly find their place around your waist, pulling you on top of him as you begin to make out. 
Every touch feels like heaven. Your hands find his hair, scratching at his scalp, which causes Eddie to let out the most pathetic of moans you’ve ever heard in your life. 
“Mmm, love you.” He mumbles into the kiss, the words so slurred they can barely be made out. 
“Love you more.” You murmur back. Drowsiness begins to take over for the two of you, and the draw of sleep doesn’t take long to cause you two to pass out, lips still smushed against each other’s faces. 
The morning light comes in no time, shining through the curtains and directly onto your faces. Your drool is sticky on Eddie’s chin, still laying exactly how you fell asleep. 
Lifting your head, you wipe your chin in confusion. 
“Jesus Christ, babe, what the fuck happened last night?” You ask, still a little giggly from the pure volume you smoked. 
“Hmm?” He tries to act like he knows exactly what’s going on, but is too asleep to comprehend your words immediately. 
“Oh.” His fingers touch his chin, which is covered in mostly dry, but some wet, spit. “A lot of fun, I think.” His signature sleepy morning grin covering his face. 
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hotxcheeto · 2 years ago
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could you please do hcs or a one-shot with a f/r! and Emma Mountebank- where Emma and R have been mutually pining over each other (ie- stolen glances, playful flirting), but bc of Emma's whole thing with Jacob, r is unsure if Emma's feelings for her are mutual. But after the events of that night, Emma wants to clear the air and make it known that she feels the same. Thanks !! :))
━ 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑
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𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Emma Mountebank x Fem!Reader 
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, kissing, flirting, mentions / light descriptions of wounds and blood, alludes to death, death jokes, they joke about what happened ?
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! BUT I LOVED THIS!!! Hope you enjoy <3
REBLOGS ARE EXTREMELY APPRECIATED
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You sat silently as you thought, knees pulled up so your arms rested on the tops of them. Blanket around your shoulders while people ran all around you in a panic or looking for something to help others.
People helping and healing your friends and colleagues making sure they had medical help after the terrible 'animal attack' that had taken place. To make sure they would survive the ride back to the hospital.
The blood, the cuts and bruises you had, sharing them with the others. They weren't nearly as bad as seeing everyone so terrified for their lives. Scared to die, scared to not make it till the day came around once more.
Especially her.
Seeing Emma cling to you every opportunity she got, the fear in her eyes whenever they met yours, the shake in her voice when she'd tell you that you were an amazing person.
And anyone would be lucky to have met you while you bled out on the ground. It wasn't a deadly deep scratch, but it was deep enough to terrify her, and you didn't notice because all you could do was stare at the girl in front of you.
Emma comforted to you even when she was terrified, because she believed you were dying. That was all. And yet there was still something strange between you two, but now you weren't sure you'd get the chance to ask. Because maybe one of you would be preparing to be six feet under by the time the afternoon rolled around.
It made you sick. All of it.
It made you sick how much she'd changed, how no longer was she bright, her eyes going dim. Thinking back to each interaction you had with the brunette before what had happened.
The loud sirens becoming fuzzy and drowned out, your stomach becoming sick and your mind foggy as you sunk back to before the night. Before you nearly died, and before you had to deal with this for the rest of your life. Instead, thinking about her, before.
Before.
"So?"
You looked up at Emma from under the tree you had been relaxing under, pulling your earbuds out.
"What?" "My going home outfit! How does it look?" She did the little twirl for you before putting out her hands like a showgirl, giving you a grin.
"It looks great, but isn't Jacob the one you should be asking?" You teased earning a look from her before she walked over and put out her hands. "Yeah.. no way. He was fun for a while but..." She trailed off helping you up from the ground, holding your hand as you both walked off towards a trail in the woods back to the lodge.
"But?" "I have other plans and people." She shrugged it off looking somewhere else. "Don't you have to clear the cabins out?"
"And grab my bag but... I also need to make sure the rest of my bags are good in that truck before I forget and then next thing y'know, my underwear are left for Mr. Hackett to find." Humming you kicked a few rocks in your path, chuckling a bit at her answer.
"Well, if you do, I wouldn't mind finding them for you." You winked at her getting a light smack to your shoulder and a giggle from her lips.
"I'm sure you wouldn't." Your grin made her blush looking away from you once more. "I bet Jacob would totally cream his pants if you asked, just radio him and tell him to do it." "I'm done with him! I wanna talk about you!"
"What about me?" She stopped right on the small bridge that ran over the little stream, leaning against the rail. "C'mon don't you have a ton of Romeo's waiting for you out there?" "Ew, Romeos aren't exactly..." You trailed off for a second gathering your words before meeting her eyes.
"I prefer Juliets, but yeah, I guess." You shrugged it off standing in front of her. Emma stared at you for a moment, making you uncomfortable and begin to wonder if you made a mistake telling her in the first place.
"Juliets, huh?" She then said quietly while biting her lip, watching your face for every tiny little reaction you had.
You nodded. "Yes, Emma, please tell me you aren't about to ask if I have a crush on you and then never look at me the same ag–"
"I'm not!" She laughed, reaching out to tap your upper arm.
"Just glad you told me."
"Why, so now you can force me to talk about my love life and torture me some more before we leave?" She nodded and cackled like an evil witch, throwing her head back slightly with a clap of her hands.
"Oh for sure, I'm gonna be checking out so many ladies for you. We are gonna be an unstoppable duo."
Your smile faltered in just the slightest, staring into her eyes perfectly reflecting the sun that slowly set behind you. Admiring her smile and the way her hair perfectly framed her face.
Fuck.
Quickly you dragged your eyes away to look at the golf cart you were taking back and forth between the areas. Finding it much more interesting than her face.
"Anyone in mind?" Her sweet voice then asked.
"Yeah, but I doubt she'll like me back."
"Anyone who wouldn't is an idiot."
You quietly laughed looking back to her with a little nod.
"Same to you."
"Y'know Y/n, I think we could be great friends outside of here. After we go home." "Oh yeah?" She moved to stand beside you, laying her head against your upper arm, listening to your breathing. "Yeah. My fans are gonna love you." "Oh em gee! Can't wait!" You then cheered sarcastically, beginning to walk towards the golf cart.
"Whatever, but you'll be thanking me. Mark my words Y/n/n! We'll be the internets 'it' couple." You sent her an eyebrow raise making her giggle. "Couple of besties! Geez, way to take me seriously." "Yeah, yeah. Get in already."
But that was earlier.
Before.
Not you sat on the back of an ambulance. A few already taking your friends away from this place, this hell, there was at least four of them, some here just for immediate attention on scene. Hoping to save address non life threatening wounds, to keep you alive.
And some saving lives, leaving while you watched them with a terrible feeling in your stomach. Hoping to everything you'd see them again, the people laying in the back fighting to stay on Earth.
"Hey." The voice was so familiar yet so far in your mind, slowly turning your head to face her. To face everything you'd been thinking about.
"Hey Em." "How's your stomach?" Her voice was so soothing, quiet, her hair tied all the way up now, and mens clothing adorned on her frame now and a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
"Better. Hurts like a bitch, but it's probably not gonna kill me."
"Probably?" She laughed while you nodded, staring blankly in front of you while Emma moved to sit beside you on the small wedge at the end of the vehicle. "I wasn't lying." You then glanced over to her, staring forward to avoid your gaze.
"About?" "About you being amazing, and my favorite person here."
The quietness then fell over you both once more, Emma laying her head against your shoulder.
"I meant it all, even if I thought you were totally gonna bleed out and die." That made you laugh, resting your cheek on her hair. "Well, thanks. Good to know you actually like me and weren't lying to comfort me in my final moments." You could feel her laughing, despite only hearing the quiet chatter of the police and others on site.
Blue and red lights flickering off your face and Emma's eyes when she tilted her head up. Examining your features while you confusingly watched her.
"How are the others?" You then asked, cutting right into the silence.
Well Kaitlyn is good, Dylan too with his drumstick, he's... in shock right about now. Jacob.. yikes but he'll be fine. But that's who I could see... I almost didn't find you. You scared the holy shit out of me."
"Holy?"
She nodded.
"Yeah. Like... I really thought..." She bit her bottom lip and did a half shrug. Staring off into space.
"Ems. I was being honest too." You let out a breath, smiling. "You're pretty awesome." "And pretty?" You then snorted making her laugh, still watching you while resting against your shoulder.
"Pretty enough to kiss?" "Well, you're getting delirious now." She giggled, wrapping her arms around one of yours. "No, I just wish I said it earlier. Y'know before we almost died and are now traumatized." She joked getting a laugh out of you.
"But we can attend couples therapy." She joked, but you knew somewhere behind her eyes was pain.
She was hurting and you wondered if she was just looking for comfort.
You stared at her in silence for a moment, the girl only blinking back like she was waiting for you to agree. Like she knew you would.
But you didn't say a word, lightly grabbing her face to pull her in. Soft enough for her to pull away, but she didn't. Her soft lips meeting yours, still slightly tasting like her strawberry lip gloss she asked you about earlier.
"Jacob's gonna be pissed." "Stop bringing him up, that was a bad time in my life." You looked around at everyone, seeing a few more familiar faces getting treated. "Can't be worse than this."
That was all before, but now there was an after.
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huenjin · 4 years ago
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the devil’s tango.
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summary — and when your demon boyfriend's best friends ruin your valentine's day plans with said demon boyfriend by lighting up a restaurant in flames, they make sure to apologise well. or, in which jisung, changbin and chan show you all the ways a devil can fuck a woman.
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pairing — 3racha x reader
genre — smut | demons!au
ratings — 18+
word count — 14.4k words
warnings — mentions of flame, indications of objectification, mentions of themes of afterlife, heaven and hell | smut specifications under the cut
note — the way this was written only thanks to @chaangbin​ and her sprinto discord thing pwp and is totally inspired from this one nsfw asmr i chanced upon on reddit. happy reading and sinning, babes.
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smut warnings —
i. groping, dirty talk, objectification, car sex, marking, slight temperature play, thigh riding, dirty talk, slight blood play (jisung gets a slight rush !!), grinding, fingering, sir kink, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, vaginal stimulation, ruined orgasm;
ii. changbin calls you baby girl (!!), choking, cunnilingus, dirty talk, dumbification (changbin talks a loooot dirty, heads up !!) nipple play, breast play, pain kink, spitting, marking, so so so much marking omfg, intercrural sex, clitoral stimulation, unprotected sex (better safe than anything else irl okay?), squirting, overstimulation, reader slips into subspace, changbin's kinda hard on the reader; chan bring you back from subspace because he's protective like that !!!
iii. tattooed!chan — chan has this huge dark feathered wing tattoo in his back omf and the reader has a tattoo kink, of sorts— dick piercing!chan, tongue piercing!chan, so !! much !! making !! out !!, calls you princess throughout the story because you are one, nipple play, breast play, daddy kink, grinding, spanking, pain kink, degradation (but chan like gives reader heads up in such a nice way because chan best boy !!), teasing cause chan won't give it to you just like that !!!, so much begging, pussy slapping, clitoral stimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it!), bulge kink, creampie, slight after care.
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Chan thinks Valentine's Day is a marketing scheme by the very commercial, capitalistic world. 
Not that his devilish self cared when he could have all the luxuries in the world in his hand by the very thought of it. Chan doesn't care even more because you, his girlfriend, loved Valentine's Day more than anything in this world, second only to your love for him. If anything, you loved Valentine's Day this much because of him.
And that is exactly why he is driving down the neat lane to this newly opened restaurant, right across the town, that you have been hyping up for months now. His fingers wrap around the steering wheel, shoes pressed flat against the gas as his other hand lies gently on your exposed thigh, thanks to your little black skirt riding up to his delight.
"Thank you for doing this," you mumble, your right hand shifting to place itself on top of his hand and grip at it softly. "You know, even after you hate all the couples out there, ever to exist."
Chan laughs, a hearty one in fact. His thumb rubs against the palmar side of your hand — one of the many affectionate things your devil does for you, albeit all the times he reminds you he is second to Lucifer himself.
"I don't hate them all." Lie. Chan knows that's an obvious lie and so do you. You click your tongue and your boyfriend bites his lower lip in a sheepish action, momentarily glancing at you before bringing his attention back on the road. "I like us. We make such a power couple. If anything, we should be the only couple to exist. Valentine's Day should exist for only one couple and that should be us."
Raising your eyebrows before letting it fall, face softening up instantly as you gaze at your boyfriend's side profile, you coo, "Aw. I see finally that there are things the devil too doesn't get at his will."
"You were one amongst them," Chan sniggers, his hand slowly trailing upwards as they shift from underneath your hand's grip. "But look where we are now."
Your breath hitches as his fingers slightly trace parallel lines as they move upwards and your eyelids flutter a bit. The pads of his fingers are hot against the coldness of your skin and the temperature difference is great enough to raise goosebumps on them.
"Chan." It's a whisper. Almost as if a great amount of determination is required for you to make this decision to turn him down. "You are driving. Plus, let's not ruin the night already. You've booked us a nice table in this amazing restaurant on this beautiful night."
"But I could make it even better." Chan licks his lower lip as he presses on the brakes, the heavy traffic stopping him from proceeding further. His hand is now completely underneath your skirt, short enough to his pleasure, fingers edging so close to your panties that your head involuntarily shifts back and your lips part.
You have been dating him for months now and every single time he touches you, you feel like a starved woman craving for every drop of his affection, desiring every part of him. Chan has been more than willing to comply, however. Your body reacts to his touches and his kisses like you are on heat and every time your boyfriend points it out, you blame it on his extraterrestrial, hellish skills; that he had you in his control.
Little do you know that it is the other way round. That Chan chooses to stay in the mortal world for you, to be with you. That he knows he will have to part with you one day when you shift over to the other side and maybe you could have sinned enough to be with him in the other world too. However, Chan knows how much God loves playing his cards and for that, he'll seize every single moment he gets with you.
All because he loves you. He is in love with you. 
Chan realises this a few weeks back. Of course, he feels the weird thing humans call butterflies when you are so understanding of him being hell's very spawn. However, it is when you cook dinner for him as you wait for him to come, or how you ask him about his day and listen ardently that he realises: hell could never be worthy enough to have someone as beautiful as you. He shouldn't deserve you — fuck, the very act of him laying his filthy eyes on you should have sent your guardian angel into a frenzy but you chose him. You chose to be with him and for that, he'd mayhaps, thank that lousy old God up in the heavens. 
"Dinner first," you strictly say. You remove his hand from underneath your skirt, wrapping your hand around his as you hold it up to kiss his knuckles. "When we get back home, I promise. In fact, I'll be the one to jump at you as soon as we reach the doorsteps." Chan laughs, mumbling, "Ah, my baby girl, my princess," under his breath and turns to look at the signal that has changed to green. He presses on the gas, speeding to reach the place on time as per reservations. 
Having Chan's hand in yours roots you in confidence from your biggest fear deep down — that he would fade away from your life one day and worse, he'd take away the memories with him to rid you of the pain from his absence. His calloused hand grips onto yours and you hold it close to your chest, shutting your eyes for a minute because this is what Valentine's Day is all about for you. Bang Chan and everything your devil of a boyfriend is. He has shown you both heaven and hell and even though you did not believe in the afterlife, you do not mind going to hell, especially not if he is there with you. 
"Why is there smoke up in the air?" Chan asks himself in absolute confusion as he takes the right on the road to the restaurant. Upon finding a neat parking spot about a hundred meters away from the restaurant, he gets out of the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you like a true gentleman. 
"Why, thank you!" You giggle, hand slapping right across your lips at the unpleasant sound that leaves your mouth and Chan smiles so widely at you, almost as if he is looking at his whole world right before him. You get out of the car and Chan closes the door right behind you.
"You look so damn pretty today, baby," Chan hugs you by the waist temporarily and snuggles into your neck, only to leave a quick kiss against it. You push him slightly and Chan chuckles, raising his right hand, that is not held by you, to protest. "I'm not making a move. We did get dressed well so let's have a nice romantic dinner first and when we get back home—" His voice drops a note lower. "We'll have a hot night and let this Valentine's Day wrap up rightfully as it should."
"And what's the right way, Mr. Hotshot Devil?"
"With my dick wrapped around your sweet little pussy," he smiles, lips extending so wide across his face that your cheeks heat up. He leans closer, pressing his lips against the pinna of your ears as he whispers, "You'll be begging me over and over and I'll treat you like the good little girl you are for me."
Your breath hitches and a flustered broken gasp leaves your lips as your fingers dig into his forearm. Chan's harmonious laughter over having made you a flustered mess rings in your ear till it is cut off by loud screams and foggy vision thanks to dark grey smoke. 
"That's a lot of smoke," you comment worried as your boyfriend takes you by his hand and walks you down the road to the restaurant. He takes small strides to let you walk at ease. "I wonder if something is on— Fuck. The restaurant is in flames. It's on fire. Fuck."
Chan's eyes widen and he stares at the fire long enough to see two figures making their way towards you. Two very familiar faces too hard for him to ever forget, especially because Chan has spent more than a millennium with them. 
"Jisung? Changbin?"
"Do you know them, baby?" You whisper into his ears, hiding slightly behind him as you cower at the magnanimous presence of the two individuals before you. 
"Sometimes I wish I didn't," he rolls his eyes and folds his arms as he looks at the two younger demons in a gaze filled with doubt and suspicion. 
"You lie!" The taller of the two says. "We had ramen together and you know ramen is exactly the way for people to bond."
"That's Jisung," Chan introduces as he slightly brings you forward. Your fingers play with the end of your short skirt, trying to bring it further down as the two men — demons, you presumed — looked at you and almost seemed to be studying you. "And the one by his side is Changbin."
"We've been friends for a while," Jisung informs and judges at Changbin who still continues to stare at you in displeasure. Did one of Chan's friends already not like you? You guess it is normal but deep down you know it hurts. You have always had the innate tendency to make sure that everyone liked you and the very thought of Chan's friends disliking you puts you to this sorrow as much as you hate to agree to it. 
"Stop scaring my girlfriend, Bin," Chan glares back at the shorter of the two before drifting his attention to Jisung and enquiring, "How did this even happen?"
"That's on me. I crashed my car into the restaurant," Jisung rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Your eyes widen and you look further beyond the two men to see a beautiful red Maserati driven into the restaurant, caught in flames just as the whole building is. 
"The people!" You scream, rushing forward. Chan holds your wrist in worry, holding you back, and you look at your boyfriend with eyebrows furrowed in concern. "They are my people."
Changbin scoffs, mumbling under his breath, "Stupid humans and their weird sense of morality at all the wrong times." Your heart drops at his words and Chan lets go of your hand, only to take a step forward in Changbin's direction, eyes narrowing at the demon. 
Jisung laughs hesitantly, slipping right between the two males and pushing them away. He looks at you and rushes forward to lean close to you. You are taken aback by the sudden invasion of your personal space but something in his eyes holds you fixed, enamored by his whole being. 
"There are no casualties, sweetheart. Don't worry!" 
Jisung leans back soon after, standing firm on his toes, and turns to look at your boyfriend. Smiling as wide as you've seen any devil smile, he prompts, "Since all our Valentine's Day plans got ruined, what if we spent it together?" He glances at you and you look away, eyes catching Changbin's who still looks at you in suspicion. 
"I—" 
"Jisung," Chan warns.
Jisung rushes to Changbin's side. Directing his attention towards you all while nudging the hell out of Changbin's side, he wiggles his eyebrows, "He may seem rude like this but trust me, he's the tsundere kind of lover."
"What the fuck," Changbin mumbles and turns his head away. "I'm not saying anything."
Your boyfriend is very flustered at the very happenings around him. Jisung suggesting a possibility of a wild night, the restaurant going into flames, and his girlfriend, albeit looking scared, positively looking at this whole proposal — maybe it has been too long since he has been away from hell for the mere chaos to fluster him.
Without a word said further to his friends, he pulls you away. You bite your lower lip, nibbling and pulling at the dead skin. Chan quickly takes your hand in his, eyes fixing on yours and staying in silence for a short while till he finally asks, "Are you okay?"
"Can I be honest?"
"Yes, please."
"Are all your friends this hot and a solid mess?"
"Should I be offended?" A soft chuckle leaves his lips when he sees you joke nervously. 
"No, no." You hit his arms, jokingly. You draw circles onto his arm and bring the topic forward finally. "I know I might have looked like I was taken aback — I was — but remember how we had this talk once about bringing people into our sex lives," you gulp, "I think this is a great moment to see if we'd like it in our relationship."
"Are you sure?" Chan's hand frames your face and you lean into it. 
"One hundred percent."
"These are demons, baby," he hesitates. 
"And you're a demon too. Stop stating the obvious, Chan. Plus, I have you."
"Are the two of you done?" Jisung asks loudly. You hold Chan's wrist and drag him towards his friends. Changbin raises an eyebrow at the sudden beam of confidence that radiates from you. 
"We are. I'm Y/N," you finally introduce yourself. "Sorry for being awkward in the beginning—"
"Oh, don't be," Changbin mumbles, gaze still wary of you. "Jisung tends to have that effect on people."
"Hey!"
"Anyhow," Changbin finally smiles tonight. "Thanks to someone," He glares at Jisung, "We lost both our dinner and our car. So do you mind if we travel with you?"
"Oh, no," you clasp your hands together. "We'll give you a ride back to our place. Chan could cook us something," you smile at your boyfriend and he merely shrugs.
"And we can let the night roll into whatever it is, right?" Jisung's gaze is different, almost like he's insinuating a thousand different sex positions in one look. 
"Yes," you say after a long pause and an audible gulp. "We can let the night roll into whatever setting it turns to."
"Lead the way, princess," Jisung's arms move in abduction and you smile, skin wrinkling by your eyes at his chirpy self. You walk forward to the car and Chan slows down his strides to walk with the boys. 
His arms wrap around the shoulders of both the demons and he pulls them closer to sharply whisper. "You fucking hurt her and I'll have both your arses burning in the hottest flames in hell. I swear to Lucifer."
"What if she likes it?" Changbin raises an eyebrow, almost provoking Chan and your boyfriend glares back at him equally, gritting his teeth and almost growling. 
With clenched teeth, he restates, "Keep it tame," and lets go of them.
Chan should know better. Nothing is tame for the men in hell.
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Changbin calls shotgun, putting you next to Jisung in the back seat while Chan drives the car.
"This is consensual, right?" Jisung asks again. There is concern lacing his face and Changbin sighs, mumbling, "She has said she wants us more than ten times, Sungie."
"Chan, you're alright with me fucking your girlfriend in the back while you drive?"
Chan's breath hitches, coughs entailing and you smile at how lost he looks for a minute as he turns back in worry, slowing the car down. "In the back or in the back of the car?"
"You never know. Maybe she might like it."
"Don't you dare!"
"Fine," he begrudgingly agrees. 
"As long as she's okay with it. Do not make her uncomfortable at all, guys," Chan sighs and turns back, pressing on the gas and almost taking all his thoughts out on it. You blush, cheeks staining a shade lighter and heat rising up as soon as you feel Jisung edge closer to you. In the front seats, Changbin talks to Chan, catching up on every single thing they have missed out in these years.
In the back seat, however, Jisung has different plans. A whole different plan to break you down into putty in his hands. 
"So, it seems like you are the girl that Chan wouldn't stop talking about and fawning over," Jisung's voice is huskier in the low tone he chooses to speak in to keep the conversation just between the two of you. "Nice to meet you, lovely. I'm Jisung. Now that I see you, I realise what all the fuss is about. You really are breathtaking."
You giggle, "You flatter me. Do all demons sweet talk this well?"
"Only the finest," Jisung winks. His hand wraps around your forearm and he slowly asks again, "It is alright for me to fuck you, right?"
The crudeness of the word in front of not just you but also two other demons leaves you flustered. Jisung pushes your hair strands that have gotten loose and fall to cover your eyes, behind your ears. 
"Yes, it is," you repeat for what you have counted in your head as the eleventh time. "It's totally alright, Jisung."
"Then, can I come closer?" You nod and Jisung edges forward, closer than he already is. "You know how us demons work, right?"
"Uh," you look down at your hands on your skirt. "You get wild every now and then." Jisung hums in approval, cupping your face with his left hand.
"Bingo, you're right!" Jisung grips your face a little stronger than a second before. "We, demons, love to go wild." He scoffs and continues, "Your boyfriend loves to play nice and pretend like he doesn't lose control and has only virtuous thoughts. All a big fucking facade to hide the fact that he just wants to bend you over and fuck you—" Jisung kisses your neck right underneath your face. "—Again and," he kisses your jugular. "Again and again." 
"I however am not. I like to do a lot of things to you."
Jisung bites sharply into your neck, sucking at the skin. The lewd noises resonate in the locked car and you know your boyfriend can hear each moan and each sound that comes from the back seat. The car moves only faster and Jisung's action matches the pace. He lets go of your neck only to crash his lips against yours, sucking in your lower lip as he kisses your hard. His arms snake around your frame and push you against him. 
You moan against his lips. It's volatile, you realise. Jisung's kisses are volatile. One minute they are harsh against your lips, strong enough to bruise them with cuts, and the very next minute, there is nothing softer than his lips or the goosebumps that trail your skin that he touched after untucking your shirt.
His skin is hot against yours, hot enough to raise goosebumps again on your skin. His lips are warmth personified and his grip makes you want to go unhinged 
He pulls back, lips parting and looking sinfully delectable. "It's in moments like these, princess, I realise how different our body temperatures are. How much warmer demons always are compared to humans. It must feel nice to have warm hands over you, doesn't it?" Jisung removes his hand from your bare skin and from underneath your white shirt. You gasp at the lack of contact, your skin feeling irritably cold all over again, and move closer into him.
"What a needy human," Jisung chuckles, and in the very blink of your eyes, he unbuttons your first two ones, exposing your black bra, laced to perfection, to him. "That's a pretty one. You really did go all out for Chan, did you not, princess?"
"I did. I wanted him to fuck me stupid and make me his tonight," you agree boldly and the car jolts to a stop suddenly. You are pushed forward into Jisung's warmth, your half-naked self pressed against Jisung's nice shirt. Changbin chuckles, looking at Chan and you turn to the side to see the traffic. You whisper again, "I still want him to fuck me stupid tonight."
"Oh, you are going to be all of ours tonight. We are going to make you such a slut for demon cock, princess. Make you greedy and desperate for it."
You are in the public. You are on the road, visible for any child or adult to look into your car only to see all the lustful deeds out in the open. You should have felt embarrassed, quivering in nothing but shame. However, all these triggers are for you to get wetter, panties sticking to your core and your grip to tighten on Jisung's arms. 
Jisung's hand moves back to unhook your bra. He lets it fall off your shoulders slightly before taking your left breast in his arms and bringing his face closer to it. He sucks on your left nipple, nipping on the areola around. His hand massages the right breast over the black lace bra and your head lolls forward. Your hand tightens around his shoulder and you desperately crave some friction in your nether regions. 
"Can I sit on your thigh, please?" You beg and Jisung's mouth leaves your nipple only to look up at you. 
"Only if you call me sir."
Jisung has an immaculate grip on your waist as he lifts you slightly, holding you mid-air and not letting you settle down on his thigh until you call him by what he desires to be called.
"Please let me sit on your thigh, sir."
"You're a good girl," and Jisung drops you down on his thigh. You blush at how Jisung calls you a good girl. You like being called names. Be it a good girl or a slut, the words coming out from them right during sex made you feel unique and special. Your skirt rides up and your wet panties are pressed flat against his nice formal pants. He kisses your lips again, this time biting into your lower lip and drawing a bit of the blood. The copper taste does nothing for the demon exactly, besides indulging him in a slight high he could almost get off on. You seethe against him and your hips grind down on his thigh almost unknowingly. Your lips part behind your panties, the two materials underneath and his flexed thigh providing you enough to ease the lust and thirst of wanting to feel more. 
"Does this feel good?" You moan in response and Jisung's eyes sparkle. "Ah, look at the expressions you are making." His hands grip tightly on your hips as he resolves to go back to your breasts and suck on them till the nipples harden for him and the areola swells up. His hands help your hips to move against his thigh quickly, soaking his navy blue pants darker. Your covered clit rubs over and over against his flexed thighs and the moans that leave your lips are loud and unhinged.
"Sir, ah, ah—" Your hands drop to hover your palm over his covered cock that rubs against your outer thigh. "I want more, sir. Fuck, fuck, I want more. Please, sir." And just as you begged, Jisung bites slightly into your breast just when he lets go of your hips and plunges two fingers into your wet lips, pushing the panties and skirt aside slightly. With your pussy filled with his fingers, Jisung continues to suck on your breasts and little kisses and hickeys all over them. 
Your moan is the loudest so far this night in that minute. His fingers are long and bony and they hit your walls and push against them exactly the way you like. Your pain and pleasure senses, both activated, seemed to be mixing signals leaving you with a slow, slow path to euphoria. "You like that, princess? Tell me."
"Your fingers feel so good, sir." You move against his thighs quickly, grinding on it rough as your pussy is stuffed with his fingers. "Sir, sir— Fuck, sir. There." Jisung curves his fingers, the joints by his finger rubbing against your spot, deep inside that has your thighs shivering and your whole body aching for more. He rubs against the spot till you gasp over and over again and he's laughing like the very devil he is.
"Oh my god, you're so wet for me, princess. You are dripping." Jisung quickly stills you on his thighs, his other hand digging into your hips. "I'm going to go a little—" He pulls out slightly before thrusting his fingers back in. 
"Sir, oh my god," your voice pitches higher and Jisung takes the positive signs well. He pushes his fingers back in after pulling them out. His forefinger moves away from the middle all while they are deep inside of you, stretching your walls apart and the sensation rules you up further as you move down, pulling him deeper and making you feel fuller than a second before. His fingers scissors inside of you, enhancing the sensations against your soft wet walls 
"You're so needy, princess. You like that, huh? Does it feel nice to have my fingers wide apart inside of you? Do you like it when I curl them up?" And Jisung curls them, eliciting a loud groan from you and your head dropping into his shoulder as you can feel yourself edge closer. 
He thrusts them faster. The lewd noises from your arousal gushing out and being pushed back in thanks to his fingers is intensified in the small space and your moans are like spice. Jisung sucks on your neck as his fingers hit your spot over and over again till the knot tightens so much that tears well up in your eyes and you pray he pushes you over the boundary. 
"You like my fingers thrusting fast, princess?" You nod and Jisung orders, "Words, princess."
"Yes, sir. I love it. I love it. I love— Ah! Ungh—" 
His thumb brushes finally against your clit and you bite into his shoulder. "Such a good princess. You deserve to cum, don't you? You were such a good girl." Jisung's thumb presses into your clit. His thrusts stills for a short second and your impatient self slides yourself up to fuck his fingers. The obscene sounds get louder with every second as you move closer to your orgasm. 
"I think I should introduce another finger. Princess got my two fingers sopping wet." Jisung's third finger now plunges into you, pushing you apart even further and your breath hitches. He thrusts at a great speed, "We'll be faster, a little bit faster. That will be alright, right?" You know you are close, just a little bit of clitoral stimulation and Jisung's three bony fingers thrusting up into you, hitting the spots—
The electric motor revs and the garage door opens. Chan slowly moves the car into the garage, darkness seeping into the car. Jisung thrusts sloppily, once and then twice before pulling them away from your core, leaving your walls to clench on nothing desperately. You cry, "No, no, no, no—" 
His voice is husky as he says, "Looks like we are here, princess. We are home." Slowly, without breaking contact with your eyes, Jisung sucks on his forefinger and then the middle finger and then the third slowly, tongue wrapping across it, dancing almost like a whole orchestra was playing in the background. 
Chan rushes to open your door. He sees your haphazard hair, unbuttoned shirt and exposed breasts and he groans. You are insatiable just as he has always known. Your eyes are lost and mind far away at dreams of achieving orgasm. Chan buttons up your shirt and helps you get out of the car. His hold on your frame is tight and he kisses the side of  your forehead.
"Chan's making pasta," Changbin announces and walls towards you, raising an eyebrow at your sight. 
"We already have a whole meal here." Jisung licks your arousal from his lower lips. Chan rolls his eyes, before calling out loudly, "Jisung!"
"Yes?"
"You're helping me with dinner."
"But why me? I want to fuck Y/N," he whines. "All I did was tease her in the back of the car." 
Chan leans into you and whispers, "Feel free to hit him when you want to. You'll have me to reason out and save you from anything." You laugh lightly, head slowly focusing on your boyfriend. He shifts his attention back to Jisung, "Because I said so and it's the least of hospitality you must show."
Jisung groans, before reluctantly agreeing, "I have a huge appetite, so heads up." You stare at Jisung, head with thoughts far in the past than in the present. 
Fuck appetite. Fuck Han Jisung. Figuratively, and if fortunate, quite literally. You have a ruined orgasm for the first time that night and all you have an appetite for is one — to be humble — mind-blowing orgasm to take you to the end of the world and back.
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Your boyfriend is a gentleman.
In the years you have known Chan, you know for sure that heaven and hell is nothing but a lie. Ironically. The stigmatization of having to be only bad or only good is so skin deep in humans that the very thought of a devil being nice seems like an illusion. That is, if the whole concept of heaven and hell is not an illusion already.
Chan is nice. He is nice to you and that is all that matters to you. He treats you like a princess because you are his princess — the only person worth staying on earth for. 
So when he lets the guys go ahead and pulls you behind a wall right before the huge living room of his apartment is in view, you know he has something to say. That, or he has a kiss to steal.
"Are you okay?" 
Chan's eyebrows are furrowed, eyes softening in worry as his hands lift up to cup your face, thumb rubbing circles into your cheek. You break a smile, leaning forward to brush the tip of your nose against his and you place a delicate peck on the same spot. 
"More than ever. I told you, baby, right? That I'll tap out the minute this gets too much for me."
"I'm just so worried. You've never—"
"Are you guys making out?" You hear Jisung's voice resonate against the walls and you turn your head, stifling the laughter that bubbles inside of you. Jisung yells again, "Chan, pasta!"
"I'm coming," he yells back, dropping his hand from your face. "I'm coming. Oh, if only Lucifer burnt you alive!" 
"I'd have to be alive for that, ha!"
"Go," you chuckle, kissing his lips only to pull back in a short second. "I'll hang out with Changbin."
"He's. . ." Chan sighs. "Just remember to be comfortable, baby, okay?"
"I know. I trust them. Beyond everything, I trust you."
You hold Chan's hand in yours and pull him away from the shadows of the wall, bring him before his friends. Changbin raises an eyebrow at the two of you, before taking a step forward as Chan follows Jisung to the kitchen.
"That leaves us together alone for a while," Changbin suggests, arms folded over each other as he takes quicker steps towards you. He doesn't tower over you much but his entire persona that he broods is enough to make you whimper, lips to part unknowingly and eyes to widen in want. "I should probably introduce myself properly. I'm Changbin. I've known your boyfriend since forever. We became demons around the same time."
"Oh," you respond, mouth patching up with the excessive want.
"I'd like to get to know you, sweetheart?" Changbin is close enough for you to feel the warmth that exudes from his body. His arms drop for a small second before his right one lifts up. His thumb and forefinger grips on your chin to angle it up slightly for you to look at him properly. The name he calls you by makes you gasp under your breath, loving the endearment and he notices. Changbin notices how much the term has its effect on you in this minute.
"Do you like being called a sweetheart, princess? An angel, maybe? Do you like dressing up in pretty pink lingerie for Chan? Maybe you want to be a baby doll on top of me for the night?" Changbin lets go of your chin before taking a step back and walking towards Chan's sofa. He sits down on it, thighs spread apart as his arm rests on the side. His attention drifts back to you, lips quirking up in brief excitement. "Or despite dating one of the most sinful creatures ever to exist, you like being called a good girl?"
Your thighs clench together and you grip at the end of your skirt. Changbin laughs at the reaction he draws out from you. He taps on his thighs and beckons for you, "Why don't you come be a good girl on my lap, hm?"
You take shy steps towards him, before sitting on his thighs that he now has pressed together. Either of your legs dangle on the sides of his body and Changbin holds your hips as he pulls you closer. Your skirt crumpled up, exposing so much more to him and Changbin is in delight at how pretty you look on top of him.
"May I?" And you nod, mumbling a soft yes. His hand slowly trails above, starting from the point right above your knee joint. It's slow and sensuous for a soft second as his fingers slowly climb up your thigh before the tables turn over and Changbin's hand rips the panties from underneath your skirt and throws it to the side. Your eyes widen, cheeks heating up as you hold onto his shoulder at the sudden force. 
"We won't be needing that for the night now, do we?"
You bite your lip and Changbin's hand hovers over your sodden lips from the previous encounter with Jisung. He rubs his palm over it as he locks his gaze with yours and asks, "Respond, princess. I need to hear you respond."
"No, we won't need that."
"That's my good girl," Changbin praises you and presses the heel of his palm into your clitoral region and you moan explicitly and unhinged. He rubs it slightly and your burning core oozes more of your arousal out into his hand, burning for that long forgotten orgasm you had hoped for. Using his other hand, he rips open your blouse, the top button letting free from the dress at all the harsh happenings it has been through for the night. 
"Oh dear, look at that," Changbin clicks his tongue repeatedly before plunging his fingers into your core and pulling your bra down with his teeth at the same time, grazing slightly at your breast that it leaves you thrusting yourself on his fingers that drive hard into you. 
You whimper, "Changbin, fuck," and he lets out an amused sound. He thrusts his two fingers in and out of you as he lips wrap around your nipple, lapping at it. He lets go momentarily, hot breath fanning all over your mound and he asks,
"Do you like this or maybe is it some pain that you like?" 
And within a second, Changbin's teeth bite into the flesh by your mound. His unoccupied hand cups your mound, massaging it before flicking your nipple. Harshly. You gasp, head dropping forward as you lean into Changbin's chest, whimpering repeatedly.
"Baby girl likes that, doesn't she?" He flicks it again, pain shooting up your nerves and you slightly bite into his neck. He speaks into your skin. "She likes it a lot."
Changbin says he likes art. He talks about how he loves the purple colours that blend into the pink and then, the colours of your skin. He sucks on your bosom, littering the area around your areola with pretty, pretty marks all while his fingers are plunged deep inside of you, pads of the same rubbing your walls while his palm rubs the collected arousal into your core, pressing into your clit and stimulating it 
Your senses are alert and every breath, every moan that is present in the air is hyperbolised in your ears. You can feel Changbin's rough fingers slowly pull out while his mouth trails down to wrap his lips around your areola, tongue wrapping around your nipple and he laps at it like a starved animal.
"Chan's too nice to you, too gentle, too kind to you. Treats you like some porcelain doll. I don't blame him for that," Changbin taunts you. He pulls his fingers out from your dripping core and his mouth leaves your breasts. Your walls contract at the sudden absence of his fingers and you grind down onto his thighs, expecting — begging more.
Changbin flicks at your stimulated clitoris. It sends a rush of both pain and pleasure intermingled up your spine, hitting your brain cells, leaving you lost and in a trance. He continues the mockery, "I usually don't fuck with humans. In fact, I even condoned Chan for doing that. No offense to you, baby girl, but humans are delicate, too fragile, for my taste. No matter how sex crazed or ravenous you are, you are still no match for a demon by comparison."
Changbin kisses up your neck, marking you up as he draws out his mockery. You think it is weird that this time round Changbin doesn't intimidate or anger you. Rather every word he says sends a trail of arousal shooting downwards, making you wetter with every passing second — making you anticipate for so much more. It is embarrassing at how wet you are from every single teasing you have been put throygh for the night. 
"You may think Chan is different but he isn't, baby girl. He's just as demonic as we are, just as fucked up as every creature from hell is. He might hold back for you, but when you push his buttons well enough, you know he'll unleash it all. Even Jisung. The only difference between them and yours truly is that—" Changbin pauses. His lips quirk up and his hand unbuckles his belt, metal clinging as it comes undone. He unzips the pant and shoves it down as he lifts himself up with you with such ease that your fragile, weak and overstimulated self is in surprise. He pulls his dick out from his formal pants and it is hot, hard and everything you crave at this point. 
You think it's unfair for a man with this big an ego to have this thick a cock and you were this close to blaming God for being unfair when you realise this isn't his territory. And history has proven that Lucifer has always been kind to his followers. 
Changbin strokes his cock, thumb rubbing at the slit at the hot head. You salivate, almost ready to drip from the corner of your mouth when Changbin cuts your thoughts — filthy thoughts, too dirty to be spoken of; filthy, filthy thoughts on how heavy his cock would be on your mouth, on how wide his cock would stretch your mouth and how deep he'd go, perhaps all the way to your throat — and holds your thighs, pulling you closer into him to position you in such a way that his cock is straddled right between the flesh of both your thighs.
"The only difference between me and the other two, baby girl, is that," Changbin's voice drops an octave lower as he almost growls, "I don't make a habit of suppressing it at all. I can grab you by the throat just like this—"  The demon holds you by your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck hovering right across your jugular and carotid, pressing them slightly. It is scary how you are here trusting a demon fully aware that an inch deeper and you would be accompanying him in your journey to the other world. Or mayhaps it's your trust in your boyfriend. Changbin's fingers are wrapped deliciously around your neck and your pussy leaks juices, coating his dick that is pressed against it. "—and thrust my dick so deep into you and fuck you so hard that your body, mind and soul is broken beyond repair."
Your mouth opens wide, tongue resting against your lower lip and Changbin spits into your mouth, ordering you instantly, "Swallow," and when you do, he lets go of your neck for a second, caressing the roughened area and mumbling, "You're a good, good girl for me, aren't you, baby girl?"
You nod, voice hoarse as you beg like a kitten in her worst heat, "Please, please, please—"
"Please what, baby girl? Use your words like the good girl you are."
"Fuck me, Binnie. Fuck me, fuck me. Need your dick in me. I'll be a good girl." 
Changbin laughs loudly, almost as if he is mocking you. He is, because his fingers wrap around your neck once again as he thrusts his cock upwards. It slides against your wet lips, striking against your clit. "How could I fuck you when your thighs are this inviting? Look at how wet they are because of your arousal. You are leaking, baby. What a good whore."
"Binnie," you gasp, barely phrasing with his hold on your neck as he thrusts back upward. He holds your close as you equally grind on him. "Binnie, I want more. I want more."
"Be a good girl and I'll reward you, baby girl. Be a good girl and let me fuck your thighs." You nod and grind down. "How does it feel like, baby girl, to have my hard cock rubbing against you? Squeeze your legs tightly around me—" You wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his back. "Fuck, just like that." 
The squelching sounds are loud and prominent. The friction of his cock rubbing against your wet skin is amplified in the silence. Your hips move slightly trying to get as much as contact possible on your clit. Your head is empty, voices hindered and you can only think of how badly you want to get fucked, how badly you want Changbin to treat you more roughly. 
Changbin is vocal. Very, very vocal. He whimpers at every rub, moans loudly and grunts as you grind down on him. The filthy words that leave his mouth does not stop — "Your skin feels so warm and cool against my cock. Oh fuck, can you feel your clit throbbing against my dick, baby girl? You naughty little fucking thing."
His pace quickens as he thrusts further, grunting, "You are fucking delicious, baby girl. Chan's been keeping a whole asset away from us."
"Binnie, Binnie—" you moan, breasts rising and falling with every occasional jumping you do on his thighs to match the pace of his thrusts. "Choke me harder, please."
"What?"
"I want you to choke me harder."
"Fuck," and Changbin listens clearly. His fingers dig a little deeper and you are gasping, arousal dripping even more and staining his navy blue formal pants after coating his cock further. "Fucking grind on my cock. Baby girl, you are making me rethink my policy on humans."
"Ungh," you whimper when his cock stills and grinds onto your clit, focusing only on that. Changbin chuckles. His voice is laced with tease, "Easy there, baby girl. If my cock were to accidentally slip into your pussy, who knows what I might do." 
"Please, please—" You barely speak out when Changbin's grip on your neck loosens for a bit.
"Did I fuck the words out of you, baby? Did I fuck you stupid? I haven't even fucked you with my dick yet and look at you already. You would want that right, baby girl? For me to fuck you dumb, fuck you stupid. I'll have you ride my cock till all you know is how to be a good girl for me and how to take my big fat cock."
"Yes, yes, yes—" 
Changbin stops right when your whimpering increases, pitch shooting up higher and your chest rises and falls as he halts. However, in one swift motion, he pins you on the sofa, him on top of you and he stares at you. You are a disoriented mess, hair spilling onto your face and everywhere, clothes open partially but enough to spill everything and your legs — thighs specifically — are glistening in the lights.
"It sucks that you are Chan's girl, sweetheart? Do you think he'd mind sharing more than once?"
Changbin does not wait for your response. With the support of his hands, he brings his body down, head in direct contact with your skirt stained with your arousal and the precum that oozed out from his cock. He sucks deep purple marks into your thighs, trailing them all the way to your glistening core. And then, his mouth is on your sodden lips.
It's a miracle at how you are able to keep your eyes open. All the teasing this night has made your body heavy and yet, like some starving woman on sex steroid, your pussy aches for more. His lips are on your wet ones as he licks at the lips, pushing it apart as he takes in your arousal, lapping in to take it all. It is merciless. The demon he is, is marvellous, hot and a sex god at that. His tongue licks your lips, tip teasing your entrance as he rubs your clit, slowly. he draws small circles over it, tapping at the engorged button till your toes curl in, knees lift up to bend for your feet to press down. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your fingers pull at his hair every time you feel the knot tightening. 
The room is filled with lewd noises and your moans are loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. Changbin licks stripes after stripes on your lips, lapping up your arousal as he hums in delight. Another stripe up your wet lips and he soon wraps his plump pair around your clit and sucks on it, loud noise of suckle resonating and causing you to move your hips slightly. 
Changbin's sharp teeth graze over your clit, nibbling slightly till you feel the knot clench in your stomach. The vortex forms deep within you again, the sign of an impending orgasm and you can only pray that he doesn't leave you begging like Jisung did. It's coming. You are so close, again, for the second time this night and you needed it. You are sure that you would go crazy if you did not receive the release you had so prayed for. Changbin rubs your clit furiously, lips moving back to your cunt as he eats you out. Changbin's tongue flicks to perfection, hitting your sensitised bud over and over again till you snap and come undone all over his face, arousal squirting out and over his entire face.
Your legs quiver as Changbin laps it all up, tongue swiping across your lips till he has drunk every single drop of your arousal. Your eyes that were squeezed shut opens and you see the mess you have made on his face. 
"Fuck, I'm sor—" You try to lift yourself up to help him when Changbin pulls you by your legs closer to him and wraps his lips on your clit, sucking on the bud till it borders overstimulation and you are screaming out in both pain and pleasure, your abdomen pitting at the sight of another orgasm with his actions.
"Binnie, fuck, oh fuck," Tears well up at the corner of your eyes on being overstimulated. You can feel your brain getting fuzzier, sense hyperbolic at everything around you. You are falling into something you are unfamiliar with. "I'm sensitive, fuck. I'm so sensitive."
He moves forward, overstimulating you and your eyes roll up at all your nerves being triggered to send the excess messages of stimulation to your brain, knots tightening and you are ready to combust once again until Jisung walks out of the kitchen, announcing, "Dinner's ready."
"Too bad I had my fill," Changbin sniggers, tongue extending out of his mouth to lick your arousal off the corners of his mouth. Your chest rises and falls and you try to focus in on something on the ceilings — ah, the spokes of the fan, yes. Three. Three. Three. Three. Changbin quickly notices the change in your demeanor, "Baby girl? You alright?"
"Princess?" Chan's rushing to your side as soon as he hears something is up with you. You giggle, laughing soon enough as you look up. Changbin stands up from your side, concern filling him when you start laughing. Jisung, on the other hand, walks to keep the pasta on the table behind the sofa. "Princess, are you there with me?"
It is the rush of endorphins that cloud your brain. Your heart beats fast, breathing rapid and it's a different kind of high you are in. You hold onto Chan's sleeve, giggles nonstop as you mumble in between, "Chan, uh, Chan! Chan!"
"I've got you, princess," he says softly, before wrapping his arm around your thighs and the other over your torso before lifting you up. "I've got you. I'm right here." You cling onto his shirt, snuggling into him as he verbally assures you. 
He stops midway in his path, turns to look at two of his friends, especially glaring at Changbin, before firmly saying, "Eat and leave. I'll talk to you later. I have to take care of her."
"We could hel—"
"Not today. Not now. I'll—" Chan sighs, holding you closer to him as you mumble words incoherently, smiling to yourself. His face softens, as if he's trying to comfort Changbin who looks guilty for the first time before Chan in eons of years together. "We'll talk to you later."
"Okay."
"And guys?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for tonight. I know she liked it. A bit too much, if anything."
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Chan holds you close.
So close to him that even the rush of endorphins in your brain isn't loud enough to hear how loud your own heart beats next to his faint beating one. 
His arms wrap around your frame, hand holding your head close into his chest as he soothingly rubs the back of it and at every short interval, he coos into your head, "I'm right here, baby." Your body shifts to a relaxed position from the very tensile state it was in that second thanks to his voice, at his words and at his very being.
"Relax, baby. This is going to pass. You did so well, so, so well."
And you giggle into his chest, eyes closing warmly for a fraction there before looking up at him. Chan believes if synesthesia was a thing for demons, he would see the colours behind your eyes. How the crimson red slowly — so, so slowly — turned to darkest shades of pink and then the softest ones and Chan knows. He knows for sure that this is it. This is his whole world.
Chan feels jealous of humankind for the first time.
He is envious about how it would not be him that grows old with you, has kids with you and gets to be physical with you at every point. He knows he can't do that with you forever. He cannot do this with you forever. And even if he did decide to fuck it and do it anyway, you'd leave him one day. 
Chan knows he could never do much. He cannot change fate or turn himself into human for you. That is impossible. And yet he hopes — ah, a dangerous thing for a demon to have, something they mustn't possess — that every moment he spends with you is infinite and never dies. 
Your body tightens up again, goes rigid in his hold and he worries for you. That is Chan's first mistake, or so he believed years back. He cares for you. He cares for you in ways a demon shouldn't. He cares for you enough to know that demons have feelings or at the very least, he does. He cares enough to call it love. 
"It's alright," he mumbles and you mumble back, "We couldn't spend time together tonight."
"It's still eight. We have time," Chan smiles and rubs the hair off your face, only to press a soft chaste kiss on your forehead. "We have a lot of time. You should rest. You were such a good girl tonight."
"I was," you hold onto his shirt before letting your hands trail underneath and Chan realises the endorphins are slowly calming down, keeping you in a safer position than you were minutes back. "Wasn't I, daddy?"
"Princess, you really had a lot today, do you—"
"I want to. I—" You kiss Chan, hands cupping his face and lips pulling at his before letting your tongue twine with his. You moan unknowingly as your body rises to lean further into him. Your fingers graze the small stubble by the side of his jaws as you find yourself getting lost in him, in the feeling of his hot tongue lapping around yours.
"Mmh," Chan moans before holding your jaw tighter, leg wrapping around your frame. In a swift motion, he pins you down underneath him as he still kisses you. His lips are beyond tempting as you draw every kiss out, draw every moan out from him. He pulls back the minute you lift your hips to grind onto his crotch, feeling himself against your bare core. "We should stop—"
"No. You're my Valentine. Not Changbin or Jisung. You'll always be my Valentine," you respond, tugging him down into you by his shirt. Chan's eyes widen before softening as he looks at you — looks at you like you are everything better than him, hell and afterlife. 
"But you really had it rough today and—"
"I want more. I want so much more rough and I want them from my boyfriend. No one else." Your hand grades the stubble again and Chan leans into your hold. "The fact that you've never been rough with me and that I had to hear about it from Changbin and Jisung did no good to my ego, baby."
"They were—" Chan pauses on his own this time. You don't interrupt or cut him. He knows he can't lie to you. He knows how much he holds back but Chan knows that he has no issue with that. It's a safer option for you and yet here you are tonight asking him to be himself, be everything he is and show you how far he can go — he was going to fucking lose it at that alone. 
"You know they were not lying," your voice lower. "They are demons, you had said, and that I should be careful. But Chan, baby, you are a demon too. So why do you hold back? Is it because I'm a human?"
"Yes," Chan reluctantly agrees and you sigh. You drop your hand from his face and Chan's lips pucker in response. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You know you won't," you reassure him. "You could never hurt me unknowingly and even if you did, you know you'd take care of me till I'm back to the same."
"There shouldn't be a situation that leads to the worst case scenario, Y/N."
"But I want that. I want you to show me everything and I want to know if I'd like that. Give me a choice. I—" You gulp, scared of telling it out loud finally now that you have come to a partial conclusion to it yourself. "I liked Changbin being rough on me. I liked it a lot. I liked Jisung edging me. I liked it so much that all I could think about till Changbin touched me was of Jisung giving me an orgasm."
Chan's hand presses down by the sheets adjacent to your face and he holds it tightly. If care was an emotion he shouldn't have felt, jealousy is another that should never have a place in a demon's mind. Especially not when they were all brought up with the thought of sharing. 
He hates how Changbin got to be rough with you before him. Something so petty and so, so territorial arises in him that he wasn't even aware for him to feel this. He knows he gave consent. He knows he was there to hear it all and yet hearing you say you liked it brought in exactly two emotions in him that conflicted each other so much that he knew he was going feral — a) delight, over you being so content and over you being so understanding of demonic natures and b) jealousy, over another demon having had you in ways only he had before. 
"Chan?"
"Yes?"
"You were lost there for a minute."
"You promise me you'll tell me to stop if it gets too much, right?"
"Always," you peck at his lips. "I'll always do that. I just want everything you are and you have to offer. I don't want to know stuff from others. I want to feel them through you."
And Chan kisses you again. This time however, it is a lot different from the previous kiss you drew out from him. His lips find home in yours as they come upon you, imperatively. The kiss gets deeper each time, tongues chasing and lapping each other, earning continuous whines and whimpers coming out from both of you. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck, your fingers trailing up his nape to his hair, gripping the small hair at his back and Chan kisses you passionately, his hands cupping and tilting your face, angling it so that he could intensify the kiss as he desired.
He's desperate to show you everything he is.
The very second your mouth had brushed his, Chan knows that you are the one for him. It had always been you. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could feel the tingle over his lips and your warm breath wafting over his chin. It is exactly as he had carved in his mind, etched so deep that it could never fade away.
His hand is prominent on its grip on your neck, as you lift your chin higher — so you can press your lips harder into his —  while your hands fist into his shirt — white, clean and perfect all for the night only for it to be discarded to the very corner of the bedroom the two of you share. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, arm pressed between the bed and you and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his.
Gasping at the motion, Chan seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. His tongue swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it. The metal ball at the tip of his tongue provides a sharp coldness and you hiss into his mouth, only for him to provide more contact with the metal that it leaves you emitting moans into him. 
It is electrifying. Every single thing with Chan has been exciting, unpredictable and leaves you begging for more. It is perhaps mankind's adhesive nature towards sin itself that made you like this — that made you into such a moldable clay in his hands and you don't mind going to hell for this. Because every single moment you lived on earth, if it were with him, would be relentlessly passionate. You would never want to swap with anything, even if someone handed heaven to you on a platter.
Because Chan is your heaven. 
When you feel his tongue flick against yours, slightly, grazing it, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. You find yourself lapping around the metal ball on his tongue, rolling your eyes shut. 
With every passing second, you find yourself drowning into Chan. His body is pressed flat against yours, chest against yours, his saccharine taste coating your senses till that is all you can think about, and his warm breath all over your face. You find yourself drowning into him — you always have — his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.
Is this how people were dragged into hell? Tempting. 
Chan pulls back and you smile at your boyfriend, like a little girl happy to have received her candy. You glance down at your shirt that is half open as a result of everything that happened tonight and proceed to unbutton the rest and remove it off your body. Chan's eyes linger more than ever on the marks that Changbin has left all over your body — marks that have turned dark purplish red and he seethes at the very sight of it in anger. 
"If we do this again, on your request, of course," Chan kisses over all the marks slowly, taking his own time to lick it over with his tongue before pressing his lips against it. "I'm going to be physically present. Not going to let anyone mark my baby up like this. That's for me."
And Chan sucks over it. His hand goes behind your back to unhook your bra and toss it aside. His hand lands firm on your breast, fingers playing with your nipple as his mouth slowly moves down to kiss your other nipple before sucking on it, lewd sounds emitting from his mouth.
"Daddy, fuck—" Your back arches, hips jutting upwards into his pelvis only to feel his covered growing length rough against your sticky skin. Chan uses his free hand to hold onto your waist and lift you slightly, allowing you to hook your leg over his waist, tight enough to tease you.
Chan hums in approval as you grind up, exposed core moving and staining your favorite formal pants of his, all while his tongue laps at your areola. The metal ball right at the centre of the tip of his tongue is pressed to your nipple and the difference in temperature has your mind spiralling. 
His palm squeezes your breast, thumb running over your nipple before he purposefully leans down and gives you a taste of his warm mouth. You gape open at the contact of his mouth on your nipple, teeth purposely grazing against the skin only for the metal ball to soothe over the burn.
Puckering his lips, he presses them to the sensitive spot by your jugular before sucking harshly. Responsively, a low mew resounds from your lips, leaving them in the open for just you and him to hear to.
"Do you remember the safe word?"
You nod, "Red for you to stop, yellow for you to give me time and green for you to proceed."
"Perfect," and Chan moves so quickly to remove your skirt off your body as he hovers over your completely naked self, fully clothed. You have always wondered if Chan would ever be into power play, especially with how he could project himself sometimes. Like in moments like these. You make a note in your head to ask him about the very thing. 
Chan kisses your lips, tugging at your lip before dipping himself further, getting lost in you. He rubs his tongue across your lower lip, metal ball harsh against your coral lips. He kisses your cheek and then, your pinna.
You feel his warm breath against your ear, shuddering in impact. You are about to ask him to stop teasing you — that you've had enough foreplay the whole night. However, in the next second, his hand lowers and lands on your inner thighs in a loud spank and you gasp, not expecting it. He hits the same skin almost a second after before the pain recedes and you are moaning out loud, brain wiring differently as heat pools between your legs.
“Fuck," he swears under his breath. His hand edges closer to you, dangling so close to your core that he can feel your arousal by your thighs, all over again and over the dried ones by your thighs. "You’re so dripping wet,” Chan mutters, only to laugh and comment, "At least I can credit this to myself."
Chan leans forward, next to your ear again and mumbles, "Baby, I'll be using words that would come off as very demeaning but I need you to know that I would never use them unless we are in the mood. You are and will be my baby girl, my princess forever. Is that alright?"
"It is," you blush, heat shooting straight to the core and you can feel yourself leak further, embarrassingly, right when Chan's hand is so close to your lips.
"Fuck, you are dripping. Such a filthy whore," Chan taunts and you feel it, deep in your gut. You've never seen this side to Chan but fuck, you love it. You love it more than Changbin having called you a good girl. You want to be called a whore, a slut — as long as you were his whore, his slut. 
Chan collects the arousal that you drip out, coating his fingers and palm. Moving his fingers, he collects your arousal that leaks from your gaping hole and watches the transparent stick to his fingers. The bulge in his pants is hard and seems too painful to be confined. You gulp evidently, throat parched. Chan's hand edges closer towards your lips and languidly strokes your slit with his fingers coating in your arousal. The pads of his finger circles your hole and you mewl, clutching slightly onto his shoulder. 
"Daddy, please, need your fingers in me."
"You've been fucked by two demons already and you are still so horny," he scoffs. "Impressive." He raises an eyebrow. Almost like he is teasing you further, he continues to play with your cunt. You whimper, gasping and hoping to feel the burn of the stretch that would come with him thrusting his fingers up.
Each small action Chan does has you moving forward in pleasure, hoping for the same as you try to move with his hand, all in an attempt to drive his digit deeper into you. Nonetheless, Chan controls the pressure and the pace and no matter how hard you try to move, he never lets you have his way, clearly showing that it was him in power here, not you. Growing tired of his teasing, anticipation filling you to insanity, tears brimming your eyes, you whine, “Fucking hell, Ch— Daddy, come on."
Chan chuckles, kissing your clavicle, biting into the skin above and sucking furiously enough to mark you. You sigh, breath exhaled out desperately. "Please, please, pl— Ah!"
Chan hits your core with the pads of his finger, labia silently flapping in impact and you moan at the pain that shoots up from your sensitive core. This causes you to moan, body moving forwards in a surprised reaction. The palm hitting the clit sends electric sparks throughout your body, your brain almost fusing. The sound is sharp as it rings through the air before you feel pain along the vulva. Crying in pain, you mumble softly out before holding to him softly, “Please,” you implore. "I need you, daddy." 
The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy bud causes you to buck into him, your cunt soon contracting around nothing. Chan mumbles as he lowers his body silently, kissing your skin on his way. He kisses the skin right above your acetabulum, tracing his lips down till he kisses your core, a soft peck over it. 
It is a stark difference in your clothing that takes you aback; of how you were completely naked while Chan was completely clothed and yet that excited you. The power he has is enough to have you ooze out more arousal that would prompt the sheets to stain further. 
Chan licks at your core, once, twice and then he is sucking at your clit, like a man walking days in a desert with no water source. His mouth is against your core, licking on it, the cold wet metal ball pressing against it, before he sucks on your engorged button. The lewd noises that leave your mouth are pornographic and your legs have lost their strength.
You are about to say a word before Chan curls his fingers up into you and your back arches slightly at the feeling of his fingers in you. "D-Daddy!" 
You feel Chan searching your walls for the spot he has felt enough that he finds it in a few minutes. He rubs against the same spot that brings the loudest reaction from you before dragging his fingers back slowly only to slip his fingers easily into you again, the slick of your arousal dripping down your thighs. The sheets are stained. His pants are stained and so is his white shirt. 
"No demon I've fucked before would have sex this close to being out of the world. Fuck, princess. Your slutty pussy is clutching onto my fingers." He rubs your walls and your enlarged button. Your hips gyrate with him, thrusting and chasing after his fingers desperately as you press into him. 
Chan's fingers are fast as they thrust in and out of your core. You could find yourself getting wetter and wetter with the lewd sounds that resonate the walls. The demon presses his metal piercing flat against your clit and you gasp. "F-Fuck, Daddy!"
And as Chan sucks on your button of nerves, his fingers thrusts into you at a relentless pace, pushing right at the spot that has you feeling the endorphins spilling into your bloodstream. You feel the knot that tightens in your stomach, ready to fall over the cliff till Chan's teeth graze your clit and you lose it.
“Come for me, my princess,” Chan urges. His command, paired with the way his tongue dances across your clit and how his rough thick fingers drags against your sweet spot, has you careening off of the brink of pleasure and into an oblivion. You can feel your bloodstream soaking slowly with the rush of endorphins. You need a moment to calm down from how good that orgasm is, as Chan slowly rubs you through your high. 
You think Chan is about to drag his fingers out of you and away when he picks up the speed of his fingers. He toys with your sensitive clit. 
"Daddy, ah—" You feel the pain slightly of being overstimulated, slowly getting intense and intense. You are crying and he slows down, looking into your eyes, expecting a colour to be screamed and when you don't, smiling softly, he continues, kissing you and swallowing every cry you have. 
You feel your skin standing at the very precipice of being sensitive to anything. In a split second without any warning, his mouth still on you, Chan holds your clit between his forefinger and thumb before twisting it and instantly, you feel something deep within you tighten up.
That was it. Your breath is disoriented. Your jaw falls loose and you let out a loud cry as a powerful orgasm cuts right through you. Chan drops his hand on to the bed as you squirt on being overstimulated. Your arousal soaks his shirt, fabric sticking to his body and he is amused. Your thighs shake, quivering uncontrollably as your back curves, body lifting up. Chan's other arm wraps around you as he kisses you through this. Your muscles tremble, ache and are sour. Eventually, you find your hips stopping gradually as you fall victim to the pleasure, squirting slowly receding. His hand is covered in your juices and he chuckles against your lips after pulling back, placing you lightly on your back.
"That was so fucking hot," he looks at you proudly, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are closed, post that powerful orgasm, tears staining your cheeks. He moves only after your eyes open, making sure you are alright and are able to breath right.
"Daddy," you smile and Chan smiles brighter. That's his girl. That's his girl, alright.
"You've got my shirt messy, princess." He chuckles and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as your head drops to the side to look away. Chan holds your face with his messy hands and kisses you, drawing out another long kiss to rid you away from any other thoughts besides ones of fucking him tonight. 
You pull away and mumble, "It's not fair that you were dressed completely in the first place."
"Is that so now?"
"Yes," you huff and your hand trails up Chan's arm, fingers digging into his arm. "It's a damn bother." 
Chan unbuttons his shirt, taking his own time with it as his fingers roll against them before popping the material out of hold from the button. Your hand lies in wait by his waist, fingers rubbing against the curve of his ass and you stare up at him. With every button that he maneuvers his shirt out of, you can see his tattoos more and more clearly.
The feathers that poke out through the corner of his shoulder, flat on the coracoid process, more present superficially right above his clavicle, are detailed. You can see the feathers variant in their styles as they fall from a greater source that lies behind him.
Chan's tattoo had always been magnificent, as if they were rebuking the almighty as he acknowledged his very being. The ends of the black feathers also tease into the head of his biceps. Two beautiful wings, bold and powerful, arise from his spine and exhibit loudly on his back.
Your mouth gapes open at the sight of it as Chan bends forward to unbutton his pants, the wings clearly visible to you and your heart leaps at the sight of it. Chan raises an eyebrow at you, staring down at his tattoo, as soon as he pulls down his pants. 
"Ah, the tattoo kink," he chuckles. "How could I forget."
"It's not a thing," you blush.
"Please," he laughs, eyes wrinkling soon. "There's no way you could lie to me, princess." 
You blush. Crunching forward, you stretch your arms, fingers pointing to draw against the outline of the wings. "It's beautiful," you whisper. "It's so fucking beautiful, Chan." He chooses to ignore the call of his name because nothing else would sound sweeter in this moment than his name itself. What you would do to give everything in wrapping your lips around his flesh by the corners of the wings and to ruin it with your own marks.
He unsheathes himself off the confines of his undergarment. Chan has always been bigger in comparison to every single one you had seen, girth firmer than you had envisioned and the frenum piercing has you salivating. It shines under the dim lighting of your room, your eyes unable to drift away from it, lips parted slightly.
You let out a small mewl — the walls of your core throbs against his member at the sensations of the piercings rubbing against the same — enhancing both your senses. Chan notices how your thighs quiver and he raises his eyebrows in sheer amusement.
"You really don't fail to surprise me, princess," Chan sniggers. "Look at you eye fucking me all while I just unstrip."
"Please," your eyes glisten and Chan coos. "Please. Need your cock in me, daddy. Need your big fat cock to fill me up and stuff me stupid." Your hands move down to hold his engorged length in your hand, rubbing the metal balls on the head with your fingers and feeling the coldness in a sharp contrast to his hot girth.
"You've been such a good, good whore tonight. Daddy's going to reward you well. So well." His hand trails down your frame and you shudder as they move down your sides.
Chan moves slightly, his hands bracing on either side of yours. The strong muscles of his arms twitch as he bears the entirety of his body weight on them. You push your body upwards and you stretch your arms up. You run your hands over his naked shoulders and his back, grazing his tattoo a little more before tangling your fingers into his hair as you tug him further over you. 
A soft gasp slips from your mouth when his weight presses over you: his defined chest over yours and his hips pressing into yours in the most enticing way. His cock brushes against your thighs slicken in your arousal and you moan. The metal ladder framing underneath his shaft is cold against your skin and you can feel the goosebumps that arise atop your skin all the way to spread the heat to your core.
Chan's arms wrap around your body, holding you so close to him that your chests brush against each other. You feel his hardened erection sharp against your thighs, brushing against your core and you whimper in his hold. "Please."
"Please what, princess?"
"Fuck me, daddy."
Chan's lips crash onto your swollen ones with a force that has to be reckoned. He grinds his heavy cock into your core, rubbing over your clit. It leaves you moaning, holding onto his deltoids with a ferocious grip, fingers digging into the muscle.
Holding onto the opportunity that presents itself to him, Chan seizes and dives his tongue right into your mouth. They glide across your tongue, your body arching in pleasure. You feel the metallic ball of his piercing run over your tongue in a wistful want, you wrap your own around it before kissing him at the same intensity. Chan's groan hits back through the air in barely a whisper as you swallow most of the sound. Immediately, you let go of his lips and your hand reaches out for his cock slowly coated in precum, you squeeze it softly.
Before you can think straight, you can sense Chan holding his cock in his hand to position himself and with a mere grunt, he enters through your twitching core. His thick girth pushes your walls apart as they move further down into you. Your grip on his deltoid slips to his biceps, desperate to catch hold of something. All that leaves your mouth are parched breaths and desperate moans. 
The lewd noises from his dick seeping through your wetness to enter you and stretch you out resonates through the wall only to hit back to both of your ears. Chan's gaze shifts downwards to watch his cock spread open your lips and disappear into your being — all it does to the demon is excite him more. 
You feel the piercings against your wall, dragging across your softness. The slight dentations cause you to moan as Chan moves it against it over and over again, ensuring to hit your spot as much as possible with every thrust. 
"You're dripping all over my cock, fuck," he grunts as he slips out only to thrust back in carefully. You grind back this time round, trying to match his pace with your fragile body. It takes you aback when you feel Chan grow into his complete girth inside you, stretching you out with an intense burn.
"Daddy," you choke out, words caught in the back of your throat. "Too big, ah."
“No, it’s not, princess," he bites his lip. "We both know you can take it. You're doing so well,” Chan coos. You find him slowing down with every thrust, making sure you are alright. His fingers ghosts right adjacent to your side, caressing your breasts with affectionate touches. 
Slowly, the pain fades away, only to be replaced by a rush of pleasure with every thrust. The hard metal of his piercings drag against the sensitive nerves of your wet core, enough to stimulate every other nerve in your body, rubbing it over and over again. 
Chan notices your face calming and how you were truly living in the moment. He takes this as a sign enough to thrust quicker, metal piercings striking the spot furiously. The sudden intrusion has your lips parting, eyes rolling back and tongue falling out in ecstasy. Your thighs, that quake, spread apart to take more of him, to let him have more control over you. Your walls clamp down on him, holding his cock tightly and magnifying the thick length of his. The moment his length pokes at the end of your cervix, you jerk, throat drying up instantly as a reaction. He was so thick and so full that he reached all the way to your cervix, ready to show you what it truly is like being fucked by a demon.
Chan grunts as he presses his hand down on your belly after pressing a short kiss. There is a slight bulge and Chan loves how you are, almost as if you are made for him. This leads your wall to press around him. His length pulses against your walls and you feel him completely, in his length and girth. Your walls ripple around his length accepting him completely — in his large, engorged, thick length.
"Fuck, I love this. Hell, I love how your juices coat my length and your lips kiss around my cock. Perfectly fitting my cock as if you were made for me,” he mutters. "Aren't you? You're mine. All mine." 
“So pretty, princess,” he coos. With every thrust of his length into you, your body is jolted back and forth, rocking the bed loudly, at an impeccable strength along with your boyfriend's.
In between all the thrusts of his cock, the way his piercings mercilessly drags inside you, triggering every single nerve bundle ever to exist in your body, you feel the clouds of euphoria come at your being. You slowly find yourself losing your being into the sheer bliss of Chan's actions.
With one more rough thrust, you are unable to hold back and with a loud cry, you come undone around Chan's cock. Feeling your walls clamp vigorously around his length, he lets out a deep growl and continues to thrust his hips into you. It is these thrusts that draw out your orgasm, bringing forth waves of bliss and euphoria, slowly seeming to shut down all your senses. The results of your intense orgasm still fluctuate through you. Your thighs tremble and toes curl. Your walls wrap so tightly around his cock that it drives him close.
His cock pulsates in your warmth and you know it too. "Oh fuck! That’s it, princess,” Chan groans out. He thrusts back into you messily, trying to keep up with the same initial pace. However, he falls out of the same relentless thrusting in the pursuit of his own orgasm. Burying his cock as deep into you, he erupts inside of you. He plays with your clit and comes undone in your core as he swears under breath, unfiltered compliments showered upon you. 
His thick cum fills you up. Buried deep, he empties everything of his load, coating your walls with thick stripes of his residue. Slowly, you find yourself back to your senses, body more alive, having ridden yourself of the giddiness of your orgasm. Your body shudders under him in your haze of orgasm.
Chan pulls out his softened cock out from you, glistening under the coated mixture of yours and his orgasm. He holds you close and rubs the side of your face gently as he compliments you, "You did so well, princess. I'm proud of you."
You kiss his lips in response, a soft, chaste one. Chan continues showering you with compliments as he falls by your side, holding you close into his sweaty naked being. He lifts himself soon enough to attend to you when you pull him down, locking him with your grip on his wrist.
"Let me take care of you, baby."
"Five minutes more, please." You look at him with a puppy like expression and Chan sighs, knowing fully well that there would be no way that he could deny your request. 
"Fine, princess," he rubs your hair away from your forehead and pulls you impossibly closer into his chest. 
"Chan?"
"Hm?"
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."
Chan chuckles, kissing the top of your head and then your forehead as he teases, "You worked too much for a Valentine's Day, baby."
"Please," you stretch the syllable and speak into Chan's chest. "If anything, it is the wildest one I've ever lived to attend."
And as Chan holds you through the night, attending and taking care of you, his phone beeps soon enough,
[1] Voicemail from Changbin Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful and to you too, Chan. Call me back when you hear this. Bye.
[1] Message from Jisung This is how technology works??!!!! Oh my God. Fancy. Anyhow, Happy Valentine's Day. This goes down in my history as best Valentine's Day ever, bitches. P.S. Best sex ever too. Let's have a foursome sometime soon.
3K notes · View notes
eternally-writing · 4 years ago
Text
hot in here | jjk
Tumblr media
genre: smut
rating: R (18+ ONLY, minors dni!!)
pairing: Jungkook x reader
word count: 2k
warnings: fingering, unprotected sex (practice safe sex!), creampie, dirty talk, kinda public sex, the reader is a brat for 0.5 seconds, kinda dom!jk, light spanking, sex in a hot tub, use of hot tub water jets sexually
synopsis: A night in the hot tub with Jungkook gets steamy, to say the least.
banner by me!
--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--
You and Jungkook had been teasing each other all day long. First it was your bathing suit strap magically falling off your shoulder while you were tanning in the morning sun. Then it was Jungkook doing some new strength training workout that looked very suggestive and required too much endurance that he just had to take his shirt off. It fleeted into suggestive lingering touches here and there, and it was no secret that by now your body was basically on fire, begging to be touched by Jungkook.
It was your friend group’s yearly trip to Seokjin’s beachside summer home and given that it was the first time you and Jungkook would be attending as a couple, he had promised that he would make this trip “memorable”, whatever that meant. Little did you know, you were about to find out.
—♡—
“We’re heading in for the night, have fun you two.”
With Jimin and Taehyung heading out of the hot tub, it left you and Jungkook some very precious and warranted alone time. The way that moonlight was shining down on you two seem to be beckoning you two closer to each other, but the sexual tension that had built up between the two of you over the day seemed to keep either of you from making the first move.
“Are you wet for me, kitten?” Whispered Jungkook from across the hot tub.
The obvious answer to that question was yes (you’d been wet since Jungkook first peeled off his shirt when he went for an outdoor run in the morning), but you felt like being a brat today.
“Of course I’m wet Kook, we’re in a hot tub,” you said sarcastically, lifting your arms out of the water to show the water dripping off of you, your expression basically saying duh to him.
Smirking, Jungkook rose from his position across from you in the hot tub and walked over. Looking at Jungkook’s figure towering over you, you were waiting for him to touch you. The way that his gaze bore into you made it feel as though you were already naked.
Instead, Jungkook pressed his knee in between yours, pushing your legs apart until his knee was flush against your clothed pussy. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped your lips. He could feel your core pulsing against his knee, demonstrating your excitement at the situation.
Jungkook leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“I’ll ask you again baby. Are you wet for me?”
Desperate to be touched, you couldn’t keep neglecting your needs any longer and began to nod your head feverishly, giving into exactly what Jungkook wanted.
The minute your head nodded up and down, Jungkook pounced on you. Grabbing your chin in his hold, he smashed his lips against yours, itching to feel you close to him. As your lips moved in perfect synchrony, you could feel exactly how excited Jungkook was, as his cock was hard as a rock against your body.
Kissing his way down your neck, Jungkook made sure to savor every inch of exposed skin. The steam coming from the hot tub rose to create a delicate sheen on your body, making you look like a goddess who emerged from the sea. Jungkook took his time as he pressed hickeys into your neck, wanting to make sure that you knew that you were truly his. In that moment, Jungkook was an artist, and you were the most beautiful canvas he had ever painted on.
Without alerting you, Jungkook managed to sneak one hand under the water to cup your sex, replacing where his knee had been just minutes earlier. You gasped in response, and couldn’t help but slightly grind against his palm.
Jungkook chuckled at the sight.
“So needy babygirl. My baby will fuck herself on anything won’t she?”
You whimpered, overcome with need and a desire for anything to help you reach your orgasm. Jungkook made sure to make eye contact with you, and asked one more time. You even verbalized your response, essentially moaning out how desperate you were to get off and how you do anything to get there.
Quickly taking control, Jungkook pulled you up to standing in the hot tub, turning you around so your back was flush against his chest. He took his broad palms and used them to spread your legs open again.
“Ready baby?” He whispered with his mouth perched by your ear, just far enough that you were left yearning for the feeling of his breath on you.
What happened next seemed to happen in a blur, and before you knew it the jets in the hot tub turned on, and one was firing right onto your clit. (You would find out the next day that in true Jungkook fashion, he spent 20 minutes earlier that day trying to figure out the most sexy way he could turn on the jets).
You instantly became a moaning mess in your boyfriend’s arms, and you were eternally grateful that he was there to hold you up as your legs turned to putty beneath you.
“Ah -, oh fuckkkk”
Jungkook pressed a kiss under your ear and held you tighter against him. You could now feel his cock pressing into you, and the friction you were receiving on both sides was making you lose control. He took one hand to undo your bikini top, allowing your breasts to be exposed to the environment and also giving Jungkook full access to groping them. He rolled your nipples in his fingers, pinching them ever so slightly now and then to make you squirm.
“Do you like this baby? You look so fucked out right now and I love it .”
And he was right, if an innocent bystander (or more likely, your friends) even saw you like this, they would see you as a red-faced, panting, moaning mess in Jungkook’s hold. Even without Jungkook even laying a finger on your pussy, you were completely submissive to him and his ministrations.
You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, and Jungkook could feel it too. He moved his attention away from your nipples and instead brought a hand to your pussy, giving it a slap that had you quaking in his hold. He then inserted a finger into you, making sure the water was still hitting your clit and providing you extraordinary levels of pleasure.
“Cum for me babe, cum all over my fingers.”
Like a genie granting wishes, at Jungkook’s command you felt your orgasm overtake you. You felt your body tingle in Jungkook’s hold as he let you ride out your high on his fingers.
“Do you want my fat cock to destroy you, don’t you babygirl? Is that why you’ve been teasing me all day?”
Pressing a finger to your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm, you moaned in response. Even though you were still recovering from your orgasm, you wanted to feel your boyfriend inside you - knowing his cock was rock hard and probably leaking in his shorts mere inches from you made you want to moan instantly.
“Please kook,” you panted, “w-, ah, want your cock.” You grasped at his swim shorts while your brain was still clouded with your post-orgasm haze, hoping to reach his cock.
As you saw him reach to pull his cock out of his shorts, you bent over, ready for Jungkook to thrust his cock into you. However instead you felt him flip you over, pulling you so you are chest to chest.
In a moment of softness, Jungkook took one hand to caress your face, treasuring the way you looked at him.
He whispered, as if he was worried someone could possibly overhear you over the sound of the bubbles - he spoke as if he wanted this moment to be shared just for the two of you.
“Needed to see you while I destroyed that pussy. Look at me baby.”
Taking one hand to run the length of Jungkook’s toned body, taking in the way he shined under the moonlight. You couldn’t help but gasp as you saw the look in his eyes - they were filled with passion, desire, hunger, and so much more.
The moment the tip of Jungkook’s cock entered you, you both shared a collective gasp. Despite the numerous times that you and Jungkook had fucked, there was always something special about the way it felt to have him buried into you. He slid into you at a torturously slow rate, wanting to make sure you could feel every inch of his dick enter you. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat at every inch, and you were mirroring his actions.
Jungkook wanted you even closer to you, and hoisted you off the hot tub seat into his hold, making sure your chests were flush against each other. You couldn’t help but press a passionate kiss to his lips, wanting to savour this intimate moment.
Without hesitation Jungkook began to drill himself into you, pounding into you at a relentless pace. Overcome with pleasure, you barely could keep your head up and instead laid it in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. Your moans were so loud that you were sure the neighbors could probably hear, but Jungkook was fucking into you so well that your brain felt foggy.
“F-feels so good Kook. Sooooo good,” you moaned out to him. Unconsciously, you clenched around him, eliciting a sinful groan from your boyfriend.
“You feel so good around my baby, clenching around my cock so well like the good girl you are.” He lightly bit your earlobe, increasing your pleasure.
He punctuated his words with every thrust as he continued to whisper dirty, sinful, sweet nothings in your ear. “My good fucking girl. Mmmm. So fucking sexy.”
For the second time that night, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten at your climax approaching.
Jungkook did not let up on his face, pounding into you while grabbing a fistful of your ass in his hands. He could tell you were close too and he wanted to help you reach your orgasm.
“Are you gonna come for me babygirl?”
You couldn’t make any coherent noises and instead nodded your head. Without faltering, Jungkook scooped you up into another kiss and snuck a hand down to your clit again.
“That’s it sweetheart, cum for me.”
The way your pussy clenched around Jungkook’s cock when you came had Jungkook losing his mind, and with a few deep thrusts, he buried himself deep into you as he released his load inside you. Despite being surrounded by hot water, you could feel the warmth of Jungkook’s cum in your body.
He always liked to take his time before he pulled out, just wanting to savor the glorious post-sex feeling that he always had with you. He gently stroked the hair out of your face, cupping your face gently as he pressed a sweet kiss on your forehead. Making sure you were steadily placed on the seating of the hot tub before letting go, Jungkook slowly pulled out (eliciting a groan from both of you in response at the loss of sensation) and took his spot beside you in the hot tub.
As you both came down from your highs, breathless and rosy-cheeked, Jungkook took a glance at the now cloudy water in the hot tub and chuckled.
“So… who’s gonna be the one to tell Jin that his hot tub water is now mixed with cum?”
--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--
If you enjoyed what you read please interact/follow! Thanks for reading ♡ - Emily
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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago
Note
Elorcan smut after so much y e a r n i n g!!
🥺 please?
Lorcan remembered the exact moment he first saw Elide Lochan. 
He’d been on his way to his last class of the day, senior year exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders, and had looked up from his phone to see her standing at the other end of the hall, talking animatedly to a professor. 
She’d been wearing dark slacks and a pale, soft looking sweater that contrasted against the silky black hair hanging down her back. He could tell that even with the heels, she wouldn’t even reach his shoulders, and not a small part of him enjoyed how small she was in comparison to him, even though it also made him feel like a hulking brute. 
The same part of him took one look at her and said Yes.
He’d made his way over, planning to totally interrupt her conversation and ask her out, and she’d looked up as she saw him coming, wide brown eyes meeting his.
A rush of heat went through him as she’d tilted her head and took him in from his too-long hair all the way down to the dusty boots he’d never cared to clean.
And then she’d done something that’d been a prominent player in his dreams ever since: she bit her lip.
That goddamn beautiful, blush pink lip that doubled as the most tantalizing thing he’d ever seen. 
His imagination had immediately run wild.
He’d wanted to draw that lip into his mouth, nibble on it and soothe the ache with his tongue. Wanted to taste them both as he pushed into her. Wanted to see them wrapped around his cock as she looked up at him with those big, beautiful eyes.
And that was just her lips. 
The rest of her was almost too much for him, even in his fantasies. 
Full hips; slim thighs that would feel too good parting for him; heavy breasts he wanted to taste.
She was a fucking wet dream. He’d never been so attracted to a woman, much less one he’d never met.
As he’d drawn closer and closer, she’d bid farewell to the professor and turned to him with a wide smile that made him almost trip over his own fucking feet. 
And then she’d asked: “English 135?”
His sex-foggy train of thought had come screeching to a halt, and he’d raised a brow. “What?”
She’d nodded toward the classroom they were standing outside of. “English 135. Creative writing. Are you in this class?”
It’d taken him an embarrassing amount of time to realize she was a TA. 
And an even more embarrassing amount of time to realize the fact that she was his TA.
Because he was, in fact, enrolled in creative writing. 
He’d chosen the class at random since it fulfilled his last general education requirement, and he’d been dreading it all week, but now... now it didn’t seem so bad. 
Especially as she looked up at him, the heat in his eyes reflected in her own, and said softly, “Welcome to class.”
E~
Elide felt like one of those tight rope walkers--doing something dangerous that might have disastrous consequences but unable to stop because she loved the thrill.
She knew entertaining thoughts of one of her students was stupid, but from the moment she’d met him, she hadn’t been able to help it. 
Like her thoughts had summoned him, he strolled into the room, and she let her eyes graze over him, finding him just as distracting as they had yesterday and the day before and every other day so far this semester. 
Tall and broad-shouldered, with hair like a midnight sky and eyes just as dark. He was like nothing she’d ever seen. 
For the past two months, she’d been unable to stop herself from imagining how it’d feel to have him on top of her, pressing her down with his heavy weight. How he might say her name in the morning and how he looked when he came.
Thoughts that were nothing but a bad idea, since she was his student. 
“Good morning, Mr. Salvaterre,” she said politely, trying to keep her voice from going husky.
He looked at her like he knew what she was doing, which he probably did. He wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to watching her day in and day out. 
His dark eyes followed her when she paced in front of the class, tracked down her body whenever he came in the room, and burned with desire whenever they met her own.
He also always came in a few minutes early to talk to her before other people arrived, like he had right now.
A corner of his lips pulled up as he replied, “Morning, Elide.”
She almost sighed. Unlike the other students, he never called her Ms. Lochan. And he never smiled. 
His lips would tilt up in a smirk, and occasionally he’d go so far as to look mildly  amused, but he never gave her actually smiled. Which was probably a good thing, because she didn’t know if she was strong enough to resist Lorcan in general, let alone a smiling Lorcan.
“Do you have your paper?”
They had a story due today. The prompt was to write a chapter of a romance novel--not her idea. The plot, setting, and everything else was up to them.
Elide was looking forward to reading his more than she’d ever admit, but she remained calm as he handed over a thick stack of papers. 
Calm or not, she was unable to stop herself from flipping it open and scanning a few lines.
Every thought inside her head came to a halt.
“This is...” She looked up to find him raising a brow and waiting for her to finish. “This is a sex scene.”
"Mmhm,” he confirmed, the amusement and hunger in his eyes clear to see.
A blush fought to work it’s way up her face as she saw the main character’s name was Elise. One letter away from Elide. Coincidence?
Then she saw that male lead’s name was Lorance. 
Definitely not a coincidence.
They’d been subtly flirting for as long as the class had been going on, but nothing so bold as to write a sex scene about them.
She read a little more and almost passed out. It was a sex scene in a classroom.
“Feel free to make corrections or suggestions,” he murmured, for all intents and purposes sounding like he was actually talking about the assignment.
Elide cleared her throat, trying to unscramble her brain.
“Mr. Salvaterre, the prompt was to write about romance.”
Lorcan smirked and flipped the paper open to a certain page. “What’s more romantic than that?”
On their own accord, her eyes dropped to scan the page, finding an explicitly detailed scene of “Lorance” bending “Elise” over the desk and pulling her panties down with his teeth.
Elide looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath and fighting the urge to press her thighs together. 
“This is inappropriate.”
“How so?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m your professor.”
He braced a hip against her desk and pointed out, “You’re my TA. And only for another month.”
“Yes, but... I could get in trouble. Nothing in here,” she shook the papers, “is allowed between PhD candidates and college students.”
“I get it, Elide.” He shrugged. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. I can wait another four weeks.”
When he said it like that, it sounded like forever. But she nodded, appreciating his patients. 
“Thank y-”
“But you know, I think I’ll continue with this story. Just something to, you know... pass the time with.” 
“What?” she choked out.
He explained slowly, “I’m going to keep writing.”
And then, faster than should be possible for such a big person, he was right in front of her, mouth dipped to her ear as he whispered, “And in four weeks, you get to pick one.”
He pulled away right as students started walking through the door, leaving her flustered and shaking and completely screwed. 
~
Every class for the next month, Lorcan brought her a new chapter. 
They were the filthiest, most erotic things she’d ever read. 
She was addicted to them.
His imagination seemed to know no bounds when it came to her, and it made her shiver just to think about what else he might come up with. 
He never said a word, just came in and put the papers on her desk, then went and sat and proceeded to eye-fuck her until the class was up. 
On the last day of class, he gave her both a new chapter and his final paper for the course. She was woman enough to admit she only cared about one.
“Wait to read this one till after class,” he said quietly before sliding in his seat at the back of the room.
She pursed her lips, wondering why, but acquiesced and didn’t read it during the twenty minute reading time at the beginning of the class. It was burning a hole through her desk, but she ignored it the entire sixty minutes.
After she released everyone and bid them a happy summer, she watched as Lorcan got up, winked, and walked out of the class without a care in the world.
Um... what?
He wasn’t going to talk to her? Seriously? After two months of-
The chapter.
She flipped it open, immediately finding the reason for his casualty. 
While the others were all written in the past tense, this one was present. And it used her real name.
And the first line was: Elide left the classroom, anticipation making her skin tingle, and walked to the parking lot. 
Huge smile on her face and skin indeed tingling with anticipation, she made her way to the parking lot, then turned the page and read, She drove to Lorcan’s apartment. 
His apartment? She’d never even been on a date with him. Not that that really mattered to her at the moment.
Was she seriously doing this? 
Her eyes drifted to the next line to see his address, and she decided yes, yes she was. 
Traffic seemed to go on forever as she drove the ten minutes to his apartment, and by the time she knocked on the door, she was too excited to stand still.
She knocked on the door, then knocked again when there was no answer. 
Brow furrowed, she looked back to the chapter, flipped the page, and saw: She used the key under the mat to let herself in, then went to his bedroom in the back. 
Hands shaking, she bent to grab the key, then let herself into her Lorcan’s apartment like she did it all the time.
An empty, clean, almost-barren apartment greeted her, and after taking an intrusive look around, she walked down the hallway to his room.
Thin drapes were closed over the window, filling the space with soft, hazy light, and she instinctively walked to the bed to run her fingers over the silky sheets. It smelled like him in here, like smoke and rain and something just Lorcan. 
Inhaling deeply, she looked back at the paper in her hands. 
Knowing he’d be there soon, Elide took off her clothes, got on his bed, and waited.
Her mouth dropped open as she read that line again and again. It was the last page, so she had nothing else to tell her what was going to happen.
Was he serious?
Was she seriously going to do it?
Her body made the decision before her mind did.
She kicked her shoes off and let her hair down from her ponytail before she could think better of it.
“Crazy man,” she murmured, even as she pulled her dress over her head and threw it on the floor. Her bra and panties followed, and then she was standing there in a man’s room while he wasn’t even home.
God, what if this was some elaborate prank? What if this wasn’t even his apartment?
The realistic part of her brain told her how crazy that sounded, which relaxed her a little. 
She eyed the bed, not sure if she should get on it or just stand here. It felt strange to be naked in the first place, even stranger to be in his bed without him.
But it also felt exciting. 
She’d wanted him for such a long time, and now that she was minutes away from actually having him, she felt like she was going to combust.
This was another way, she realized, of heightening the anticipation between them. Elide had made him wait for three months, so he was giving her a taste of her own medicine.
She crawled on the bed without another thought, relaxing on his pillows and trying to calm down. 
Then the question became... how long was he going to make her wait?
Twenty minutes later, she had her answer. 
She heard the lock on the door click open, and God above, just the sound of his boots coming down the hall made her breath come quicker. He got closer and closer, and then there he was.
Lorcan leaned against the door frame, looked her over from head to toe, and for the first time since they’d met, gave her a full smile.
She found herself smiling back, unable to help it. She was right; smiling Lorcan was undeniably her favorite.
He didn’t say a word as he prowled closer and braced his hands on the bed near her feet. He didn’t have to; his eyes told her exactly what he was thinking. 
They roamed over every inch of exposed skin, lingering on the sweep of her hips, the apex of her thighs, the quick rise and fall of her chest. 
“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he rasped, leaning to press a featherlight kiss to the inside of her ankle. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
He pulled back and continued to look at her like he was content to do exactly that for the rest of his life. She needed him to touch her, needed him to put that still-smiling mouth on hers.
“Lorcan,” she breathed, squirming under his dark gaze. She pulled her lip between her teeth to keep from throwing pride to the wind and just begging him for what she wanted.
Turns out, she didn’t need to beg. As soon as she bit her lip, he was on her, heavy weight pressing her down in the way she’d imagined he would for months, mouth covering hers, hands cupping her face like she was something precious. 
He stole her lip from her, sucking it into his mouth and groaning. 
Like a thread with too much tension, they snapped, hands and mouths starting frenzied as they both tried to kiss the other harder, deeper.
His hand slipped between her thighs, and he pulled back far enough to press his forehead to hers and mutter, “Shit.”
Then he was kissing her neck, sucking down at the same time he pushed two fingers inside of her. His name fell off her lips, sounding desperate to her own ears. 
He ignored her plea, kissing a path down to her breasts. He swirled his tongue around the peak of one and used his free hand to pinch the other, making her cry out. 
“These breasts,” he growled, sounding a little angry. 
She didn’t know if she should apologize or shove them further in his face. 
He switched to the other, choosing option number two for her. His teeth scraped against her nipple at the same time he pushed his fingers into her a little harder, and it felt so good her legs shook.
Then he was moving, going further down until his face was pressed between her thighs. 
He pushed her thighs back, and she blushed at being so exposed while he hadn’t shred a stitch of clothing. But then he pulled his fingers out, licked them clean, and said, “You taste like strawberries,” giving her a whole other reason to blush.
Lorcan calmly slid down to his stomach and got comfortable, then proceeded to eat like he’d been locked in a room with no food for two weeks. 
His tongue was everywhere, licking her from top to bottom, circling her clit, pushing inside her. He hummed, and she arched off the bed, pushing her hips further toward him. 
She wanted this to last forever, but her body was reacting to him like it never had to anyone, and she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
He added his fingers back at the same time he sucked her clit sharply, and she fell to pieces, twitching and pulsing around him and breathing like she’d done something besides lay there.
She yanked him up the bed, needing to feel him against her. She slid her hands in his hair and licked his lower lip, smiling when he made a gruff sound.
Elide slipped her hands under his shirt and pulled it off, then started working on his belt, only to have her hands knocked out of the way by his. He unceremoniously ripped his clothes off, then rolled on his back to reach for a dresser drawer. 
While he dealt with that, she perused him head to toe like he’d done her.
His body was lean and cut, tan and beautiful. 
Crawling next to him, she ran her lips over his chest, down his abs. When she attempted to go lower, he stopped her with a hand in her hair. 
“But I want to-”
“Later,” was all he said before throwing her on her back, rolling the condom on in an oddly primitive manner, and thrusting inside of her.  
She gasped, feeling so full she might split apart, and clung to him as he let her adjust.
When she felt like she could breathe again, she wrapped her legs around her waist and tilted her ups up, taking him even deeper. He made a deep sound of approval, eyes dropping to half mast. 
Lorcan braced himself on his elbows, gave her a very male look, and said, “Hold on tight.” 
Then he started to move, pulling out all the way before thrusting back in so hard she shook. 
It was like the past months of lust and heated glances were coming back all at once, reminding her how long she’d gone without him.
She’d imagined what he’d be like more times than she could count, but the reality was somehow better.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as he pounded into her, probably hurting him, but he didn’t seem to mind. 
Their mouths met in a messy, wet glide, and he bit her bottom lip, anchoring himself by it as he fucked her even harder. 
“Elide,” he groaned, deep voice desperate and scratchy. “Come on, baby.”
The knowledge that this was undoing him as much as it was her was what pushed her over the edge again. She moaned his name as she came, eyes going shut and body arching up into him. 
He followed immediately, stilling on top of her and fisting the sheet hard enough she worried it would tear. 
When she came back down to earth and released his shoulders, she saw she’d left little half-moon marks on him, and she leaned up to ease the hurt with her lips.
After a moment, he rolled off of her and collapsed on the other side of the bed with a huff.
They both stared at the ceiling, unable to find words for a long moment. 
Until Lorcan stated, “Wow.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, body still tingling. “Was it worth the wait?”
He shrugged, and her heart constricted painfully in her chest until he said, “Might need another go before I say for sure.”
Elide shoved his shoulder, turning on her side to look at him.
“What now?” he asked, rolling to face her. “I do actually plan to take you on a date, you know. Dinner?”
A part of her was relieved to hear this wasn’t just sex to him, but there was something else she wanted at the moment. 
“Chapter 3?” she suggested instead.
Lorcan gave her a wolf’s smile. “I like the way you think.”
________________________________________________
not me being horny on main yikes. sorry it’s long
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atticinthecafe · 3 years ago
Text
its 1 am and I wanted to write before I headed off to bed. this jumps around a lot time wise and I did not proof read it I'm ti r e d
---
The first time Akira did this Morgana nagged at him the whole time.
---
"Joker! You've been wandering around the city for hours," Morgana whined from inside the bag, shifting around.
Akira just hummed in response. His eyes were distant and foggy, constantly trained on the distance. Sometimes they would scan across the crowds, almost like he was looking for someone, but for the most part he just seems dazed, lost in thought. He kept walking, the twists and turns memorized by the back of his hand, simply wandering. Sometimes he'd end up on a train to some other area, but he just wandered all the same.
"When are we going home? I'm bored!" Morgana complained, this time getting a bit louder.
This seemed to break Akira from his thoughts, as he frowned looking at his bag where Morgana sat.
"I can talk you home if you want," He spoke low, just to his cat, in a neutral tone. It was hard to tell what was on his mind.
"Yes! wait- you're going to keep walking?"
"Mhm,"
"I'm not leaving you on your own! I'll just tough it out then! But we better get food sometime soon!"
---
Morgana hadn't really known why he was wandering, but to be fair, neither did he.
He had his hand shoved into a pocket, holding the glove he had gotten from his rival and walked around the city, watching the scenery and the people go past as he drifted. It was different now. He had been doing this for weeks. Just- walking around.
Orginally he had no clue why he did it. Something weighed on him, made him feel heavy. He zoned out during conversations and stared into space. Morgana suggested maybe fresh air and a walk would help refresh his senses, but it just ended in him wandering.
He needed the space, to be away from people. He also needed away from his thoughts, but that wasn't so easy. The city provided a nice distraction. Different things to think about. But that didn't stop the soft lull of sadness from weighing down his head.
He missed Akechi if he was being honest. He didn't notice it. But it was like a low hum in the back of his heart. Invisible stress making him tired when he hadn't done anything. It haunted him and didn't leave him be.
---
Morgana at some point had mentioned how when cats lose a friend or someone they care about they'll wander around, meowing and crying out for the other.Akira wondered if Morgana had been talking about him when he brought it up.
Today he had left Morgana with Futaba. The fog in his head and weight in his chest had gotten worse the past week. He hadn't known why until Ryuji mentioned it was around the same date they had met Akechi.
Incredible how his subconscious refused to let go.
The rain pattered against his umbrella as he walked and puddles gently splashed beneath his feet. It was nice to get rain in June. He certainly didn't mind it. It gave the city a softer, calmer feel. It almost felt like the rain took some of his weight with it when it fell.
---
Akira was fine most days. He seemed normal. Almost like he had moved on, but there were some where he simply disappeared out the front door, and everyone knew. They knew he still missed Akechi, no matter how many times they told him he shouldn't.  They knew he needed space for a bit.
The one time they made him stay it was obvious how he was stressed without realizing it. He fidgeted awkwardly and didn't participate in conversation. He seemed like he wasn't there at all and when spoke to he'd look up confused and obviously off in his own world.
Sometimes they would intentionally tell him to take a walk. He'd get shaky and tense for no reason. Seem more irritable and quiet than usually. Not handle loud noises or being around people well. This is when his friends would step in and tell him maybe he should go for a walk to calm his nerves. Sometimes it would take him getting frustrated over something small and all his stress breaking like a dam for the others to take notice, in which case they'd quiet down and all pause to take care of him. Whether it be one of them going on a walk with him, or the group settling down to bundle up in blankets and form a small pile as they watched movies together.
He wished it would stop. The days where he was stressed without realsing it and dazed. The days where he felt like the slightest thing going wrong would cause him to start sobbing and he didn't know why. The days where he missed Akechi.
He wasn't even certain if he was alive.
---
It had been a few years. Akira was better. He was managing better. But he still suddenly disappeared for walks. Some nights he wouldn't sleep at all and instead wandered.
It had been one of those nights, and now here he was, head resting on the counter of Leblanc well Sojiro huffed at him in the background. Something about going upstairs to sleep and not staying up so late.
He didn't move though, and Sojiro didn't seem to mind. There was something calming about the atmosphere. It was warm and the chattering of the TV in the background provided comfort in it's own way.
He couldn't sleep, as much as he wanted to the stress tugged at his brain keeping him just awake enough to be unable to sleep but not awake enough to bypass his exhaustion. So he just sat there, soaking in the smell of coffee and the peaceful air.
---
A ring sounded from the door, and Akira didn't bother looking up, staying where he was.
That was until he heard a soft, almost amused hum as a chair besides him was dragged out from its spot, someone sitting besides him. His eyes flickered open and up to meet red ones, gazing at him fondly.
The time passed in sections, one moment he has his head on the table, next he knew Akira was a crossed from the man, getting started on his favorite cup of coffee, pressing his glove back into his hand with tears pricking at his eyes. Then he was brewing coffee. A conversation between them was happening but- he didn't hear it. It made his chest warm and light, the lightest it had felt it years.
He placed the coffee infront of the other with a smile. He could feel the pure, unfiltered love and happiness just to be able to hear his voice again rush through his body with every word the man spoke.
He hummed softly as the other pressed their hands together, the warmth filling his body yet lingering just where he touched him.
---
His heart felt raw.
Akira blinked open his eyes to Sojiro leaving. To the once warm comforting room feeling cold and bitterly lonely. The warmth that lingered on his hand feeling almost like a bitter sting.
He lifted his head up to find tears streaming down his face and his sleeves damp from where he had been resting his head.
Of course, it was just a dream.
His fingers found their way into his pocket, and he gripped the glove tight. His chest was nothing but raw pain that you would have figured he would have gotten over by now.
He just wanted to see him again.
---
The next few days were incredible low for Akira. He spent most of them asleep.
Dreams were incredible tantalizing now. The fact that occasionally, he would see Akechi again in them made them feel more worth while than reality sometimes.
It was lonely.
He spent a long time asleep that week. More than he should have, but he couldn't help it. The sting in his chest was hard to bare.
---
Akira laughed.
It was the fullest his chest had felt in a while. No longer that haunting hollow that followed him around from day to day.
He was still moving on, he still occasionally had days where he would wander. But they were less now.
The warmth that filled his chest when his friends smiled, the brightness in their eyes and the lightness to their tone when they said the stupidest jokes made the lonely fade.
He had forgotten how good they make him feel.
There was a bittersweet taste left in his mouth when he thought about Akechi. How he should get to feel the same warmth Akira did. How he deserved so much more than the cards he was handed, but Akira didn't linger on that. He couldn't. He had to move forwards.
Akechi would probably call him stupid for staying stuck on him so long. He would say how he shouldn't waste the life he has thinking about someone who killed him. How if anything he should be glad he finally won. There was no more rivalry to be had. But Akira still had to disagree.
Akira took every step as a challenge to be better. He spent the days trying to improve, telling himself that he couldn't fall behind now. He couldn't disappoint the rival he loved so dearly by stopping just because it was over.
He figured if Akechi ever did return, he'd give him a real challenge. If he met Akechi again he wanted to be someone he could respect, someone he could challenge and find worth challenging. He wanted to keep the rivalry alive in his own little way. It was just a promise in his own mind he had to keep. And he couldn't do that with a hurting chest, so he indulged in the moments surrounded by friends, with laughter in the air.
He would do his best to continue, just to prove that he could. He wouldn't forget Akechi, he didnt think he could, but he wouldn't fall behind because of him.
---
When the day was late and the sky had turned shades of orange Akira was left cleaning up Leblanc, making sure everything was ready for business tomorrow.
It had been a while since he had finally realized that he had moved forwards, but he was still making progress with each day.
He leaned back onto a shelf, letting out a soft satisfied hum as he relaxed for the day.
Then the bell on the door rung.
Then a familiar voice spoke, and Akira had to make sure this wasn't a dream.
"I hope I haven't come in too late for a cup of coffee Kurusu, I was hoping we could catch up,"
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gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago
Text
Flightless Birds Chapter Four: Birds of a Feather
Chapter One Here
Chapter Two Here
Chapter Three Here
Chapter Five Here
READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC! THIS ONE GETS PRETTY DARK!  I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTIONS OF HAWKS OR Y/N’S MOTHER IN THIS! IF ANY OF THIS TRIGGERS YOU, STOP READING IMMEDIATELY AND SEEK COMFORT!  I WILL COMFORT ANYONE WHO GETS TRIGGERED BY THIS, SO DM ME IF YOU WANT A HUG!
Summary: Y/n wakes up in their new home, and learns the rules of living with Hawks. But it makes them sick to their stomach to have to keep their eyes open here.
Word Count: 3K Words
Warnings: abuse, mentions of drugs, gaslighting and manipulation, extreme toxic behavior, abuse, choking, crying, mentions of rape and sexual assault, vomiting, PTSD, abusive parents, PTSD flashbacks, physical abuse, cliffhangers
Other: I’m so sorry this took forever to come out, I had a shit ton of other drafts I was working on. Reader has enough hair to pull on. 
Flightless Birds Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus��@cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin @hawksadmirer @assassinslittlesister @deepcollectorphantom @thesubtlewhore
Ow.
Owwwww.
Sharp white snakes of fire were shooting up your spine, but the rest of your body was ice cold. You wanted to scream, but you just didn’t have the strength to. Your whole body was so heavy, you felt like a rock falling beneath the waves, drowning helplessly as the person who threw you in laughed.
Laughter…
Who was laughing?
Behind the laughter was music, you listened to all the notes, beautiful Cs, Ds, Es, and Fs tied together in half steps. 
Of course it was in minor key.
It wasn’t a song or an artist you recognized though, and it didn’t sound like it was coming from a phone or speaker. 
Someone was playing the piano.
You needed to open your eyes. 
But fuck it if it wasn’t gonna l be difficult. 
You felt like your body was made of lead, and opening your eyes was going to be like lifting a truck.
A bright blob of white light pierced your pupils as you peeled back your eyelids, finally seeing your surroundings.
There was a flat white ceiling staring down at you, and a silver fan was whirring away, white light burning your retinas.
The walls were light blue, clean and bright. It looked fresh, the room still smelled like paint. You hissed, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. As you moved, you felt something soft brush against your neck.
You slowly lifted one hand to your neck, grabbing at it. You felt leather and metal pressing against your palm. A soft feather was attacked to a small metal loop. You tugged on it, trying to detach it from your collar.
It wouldn’t budge.
You let go of the feather, letting your arm flop to your side. You felt exhausted, and everything was so foggy. What the hell was happened? Where were you? Where was Izanagi?
You heard a loud creak, and the realization hit you that the music had stopped. When did it stop?
“I-Izanagi?” You whimpered, trying to focus your eyes on the blurry figure in front of you. You saw tanned skin, something yellowish on their head, and two large red blobs behind them.
You heard the person coo, and felt their gentle fingers on your face, tilting you up by the chin.
“No no, Izanagi’s not here, my dear~” you felt your blood run cold, and you attempted to push the creature away. He was like a rock wall, unmoving and unaffected.
“No-“ you whimpered “please go away!” 
“Tsk tsk tsk” your vision was slowly starting to clear, the only thing blocking you from seeing your captor clearly were the tears building up in your widened eyes. 
“I’m not going to leave my love alone like this, now should I? That would be so irresponsible of me~” his voice was calm, smooth like honey, and it made you want to scream. “I’ve worked so hard to get you here, I need to make sure you feel so comfortable! That’s why I’m here~”
“Hawks.” His golden eyes lit up when you murmured his hero name. He nodded happily. 
“Yes, yes you recognize me! The drug must have worn off for the most part by now… how do you feel?” His face was awfully close to you, and his hot breath fanned out over your face.
“Scared, please let me go.” You muttered. He sighed, shaking his head.
“Dumb little birdy.” He tutted. “You shouldn’t go outside, y’know. Too dangerous for a pretty little thing like yourself! Tell me how you feel.”
“I feel like leaving.” You were slowly regaining your physical strength, and your eyes darted to every corner of the room. There was a window, locked and boarded up. There was the door, wide open. 
Just outside you could see a hallway, a little dark table with a vase on it. You could run out there, grab the vase and smash it. You could threaten him with it and maybe get to the front door, wherever that was.
You felt Hawks’ hand lower from your face to your chin, squeezing your cheeks together so your lips poked out in a cute pout. He pressed his forehead against yours, and you could feel him growling.
“I said, you’re not fucking leaving. Did I not make myself clear?” You sniffled pitifully.
“You’re scaring me, Hawks.” You whined. He softened again, letting go of you and leaning back.
“I’m so sorry, Baby Bird. Don’t you worry though, so long as you listen to me, I won’t have to be scary again.” You nodded, moving quickly to smack him hard in the nose and dash towards the door.
Your collar tightened around your neck, something pulling you backwards. You collapsed to the ground with a choked out gasp, arms flying to your neck to relieve yourself of the pressure.
Of course there was a leash tying you to the bed.
You tried to scream, but your throat was closing up from the pressure on your neck. Your tears finally flooded down your cheeks as you writhed pathetically on the floor.
Your eyes found Hawks, carelessly crouching above your wriggling, dying body. He sighed, wiping away one of your tears.
“See what happens when you disobey?” He lifted your head with his hands, pressing a soft kiss to your nose. “You get hurt. That’s why you gotta listen to me. Promise you’ll listen to me?”
“I promise!” You barely managed to get the words out between your sobbing and choking. You saw his face stretch into a lazy smile as he loosened your collar.
Your body fell limp as your lungs sucked in air. You gasped, coughing and crying as your hands reached for something to hold, eventually landing on his hands.
Hawks helped you to your feet, sitting you down on the bed. His hands rested on either side of your thighs as he studied your tear-stained face.
You kept your eyes on your lap, shaking. You didn’t want to be here, tortured by this sadistic bird. You wanted to go home, you wanted Izanagi. 
“Please sir, I want to go home!” You cried. His face twitched.
“As much as I live for you calling me ‘sir,’ you’re not going anywhere. This is your home now.”
“I want Izanagi.”
“I’m not going to hurt you unless you disobey, so there’s no need to be scared.” He started. “And I must say, you should feel guilty. You shouldn’t have been staying so close to Kouten Yuu and Izanagi Fujikawa. You’re probably cold because I have the AC on. Now that light feeling is from that drug I gave you back at the police station.”
“Ask for another man again and I’ll kill him.” Well that sure shut you up quick. 
“So tell me. How do you feel? And look at me when you answer.” You slowly lifted your head, rubbing your arms to stop your shaking.
You met his eyes.
“I… I feel scared. And- and guilty. And I- I’m so cold. And I feel- I feel kind of light chested? Like- like my lungs are full of helium and have lifted up sort of- I don’t know, I’m- I’m so sorry, please don’t hurt me!” You shied away from him, hiccuping as you covered your face with your arms.
He shushed you, pulling your arms down and wiping away your tears. He seemed merciful, but you knew better than to think that of him.
You swallowed, he was so casual about drugging you, as if it was perfectly normal to stalk and kidnap someone and expect them to love you.
“Now darling, I’m going to explain some rules and punishments. Pay attention, Dove, I don’t want you to forget any, okay?” Your hands latched onto his jacket, and you nodded slowly.
Rule one: Do as I instruct, always.
Rule Two: You will eat everything I give you.
Rule Three: You will kiss me good morning, goodnight, and whenever I ask.
Rule Four: When I come home from work, you will kiss me and take my jacket.
Rule Five: You will cook what I want you to, using recipes I give you.
Rule Six: You will wear the clothes I give you. You will not dirty anything.
Rule Seven: You will thank me for everything I give you, kisses, clothes, gifts.
Rule Eight: You will call me Keigo, Sir, Daddy, and Master. Nothing else.
Rule Nine: You will not mention any person or thing from your old life. 
Rule Ten: You will not try to look out the window, and you will not leave here.
You nodded. This… was going to be your new life, and you feared what could happen if you ever had the gall to break one of Haw- Keigo’s rules.
“And now I will explain your punishments and privileges. I want to be merciful, so please don’t disobey.”
“Okay, Keigo…”
Punishment One: Revoking entertainment
Punishment Two: Starvation/ Dehydration
Punishment Three: Beatings
Punishment Four: Forced Intercourse
Punishment Five: Isolation
“W-wait, Punishment four is- forced intercourse- as- as in- as in-”
“Yes.” His face hardened. “But that’s one of the more intense punishments, only for when I’m very angry or you break a major rule. If you’re good, then I’ll back off when you say no. But do understand, eventually, we will have sex. You’re too fucking sexy for me to not fuck you.”
“I- um-”
“I gave you a compliment, darling. Rule seven?” 
“R-right. Thank you… sir.” you watched Keigo shiver, his angry expression morphing into a sadistic smile.
“Oh baby, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you call me that.” He leaned in close to you, his hand running up your thigh. “Rule Three, give me a kiss baby~” 
Hesitation rippled across your face, a chill spreading through your body. You didn’t want to kiss this man, who’d tried to kill your friends, who stalked you for weeks, who’d drugged and kidnapped you. You didn’t want his filthy lips touching you, his slimy tongue in your mouth. You didn’t want to kiss Keigo.
“Y-yes sir.” you whispered, closing your eyes as his face grew bigger, getting closer and closer to you. You remembered the mist that spread across your mind when he drugged you, how it left you immobile and blank. You grasped at the dark fog, pulling it forward and covering you, blocking him out.
After a few moments, you pushed it away. Keigo pulled off your face, and you felt a wad of saliva on your tongue. It tasted greasy and cheesy. Not your saliva. 
You swallowed it, looking at him with wide, scared, eyes. Since you dissociated, you had no idea what he or you had done.
“Did- did I do a good job?” Your voice was hushed. It wavered like your shaking body under his gentle, loving touch.
“Yes, dove. That was the perfect first kiss.” He purred. “You did wonderfully.” You relaxed a little, and his hand lifted off your thigh. “Now I’ll tell you a few more things, then I’ll make dinner for you.”
Privilege One: You may watch TV and read, but you can’t use social media.
Privilege Two: You may listen to music and dance, but only with me.
Privilege Three: You may have hobbies, but I will participate in them.
Privilege Four: You are allowed to reject sex, unless it is a punishment.
Privilege Five: You are allowed to request objects and gifts.
Privilege Six: You are allowed to walk around the house, but you will wear a shock collar. Sensors will be located in certain rooms. They will shock you and knock you out for an hour and send me a notification. 
Privilege Seven: Eventually, I might get you a phone. You will have no phone numbers but mine, and no social media. 
Privilege Eight: I have a garden and pool, at some point when I trust you, I will let you outside for walks and swimming.
Privilege Nine: You’re allowed to cry, to scream, to fight back. I like the battle, just know I’ll always win.
Privilege Ten: You will be allowed a pet one day, maybe two pets, depends on how good you are.
There it all was. Everything he expected of you. Your eyes fell to your lap, to the hands you’d clasped together as they shook. The soft texture of your sweatpants calming you just enough to keep you from throwing up all over Keigo.
“For now, you will remain collared to the bed. I’m going to go to your old home and retrieve all the gifts I gave you.” He stood up, hand lifting up and tracing your body. 
“Okay…” you whispered. Keigo cooed, finally lifting off of you. He left briskly,
shutting the door behind him. You heard a small click before his footsteps started to fade away. You put the book down next to you, taking the moment to examine the room you were being kept in.
There was a desk underneath a window, it was tinted dark so you couldn’t see outside. The desk was a pale brown, a violet vase decorated with little bees had seemingly been knocked over, and it was kept from rolling off the desk by the green book leaning against it. You managed to make out the words Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Part of you wondered if Keigo was a fan, or if it was just there for no reason.
A bookshelf was right next to the door, and on the lower shelves, there was a CD player and a box labelled toys. You could figure out what type of toys were in the box, and you were pretty sure it wasn’t LEGOs. On the other side of the room was another door, wide open. You could see a toilet and shower curtains, so it had to have been a bathroom.
Escape wasn’t through there.
Next to the bathroom door was a closet, the door was open a crack, and you could see a couple of dress shirts inside. Probably all his. Part of you wondered if he was going to make you wear some of his shirts, rule six said you must wear whatever he gave you, and that could mean his clothes.
Was… was this really happening? Were you really in the number two hero’s house? Was he really going to keep you in his house forever and ever? Would-
Were you fated to never see your friends and family again?
To never see an ice cream store?
Or a park?
Izanagi?
A moment before, it really all felt like a bad dream. Like you could pinch yourself and you would wake up in your bed, and go to the park with your friends. 
Kouten would bring some more delicious food, and you would make a mess while eating it..
Izanagi would sit next to you, and hug you and laugh as he teased you or Kouten about something or another.
You, you would fly, you’d be free.
Slowly, you spread your wings. They bumped against the bed, against the walls and the nightstand with the pretty Viridian lamp on it. You couldn’t even open your wings all the way in this tiny room, this room wasn’t meant to house a free bird.
It was meant to cage a pet.
All the emotions that the fog had blocked out rushed in like a flood, destroying every little bit of peace you’d managed to build up in your life. It slammed into your memories, into your hopes and dreams, and tore them all apart until all that was left was the rushing water, roaring filling your ears. You grasped at your hair, yanking as hard as you could in the hopes of tearing it out.  Maybe the physical pain of a thunderstorm could turn your mind away from the tsunami. Maybe if you had chunks of missing hair, Hawks would become grossed out by you and kick you out. The collar rubbed uncomfortably against your neck, reminding you that he was still there, choking you, restraining you, claiming you as his. He didn’t see you as human, just as a pretty little thing he’d collected, like jewelry or rocks. Everything swirled around, and you couldn’t see any more. It hurt, it fucking hurt. You felt something tug in your stomach, and then your body was pulled forward.
You closed your eyes.
You heard it all splatter on the floor, the meal you’d been served. You tried to make it to the toilet, but all the food in your stomach felt so gross, and you needed to get it out, out, out, out.
You heard a gasp behind you, and you spun your head around. Your eyes widened at the sight of her. Her face was rigid, eyes like knives through your skull. Your tiny hands clutched at your torn shirt. You’d barely finished vomiting and now she was here. 
“Please, please no I’m sorry!” You cried, lower lip quivering.  “Sorry isn’t going to cut it!” the walls spun, moving quickly away as the ceiling dipped down, you could see her hands, and you could feel sharp pain in your skull as the floor was dragged away from your body.
“I work so hard, day and night to get food for you, and you just barf it up all over my floors like the ungrateful little brat you are! My floors will stink and stain, and it’s because of your insolence!” You couldn’t see anymore, but you could feel ripping. Did your feathers not want to be on your back anymore? What was that wet thing you felt against your face? 
“Your lucky your father isn’t around, I know for a fact he wouldn’t even tolerate this sort of behavior! You make my already shitty life so much more difficult! Be grateful I haven’t sent you away!”
Words bubbled up from your throat, you were barely conscious, and at this point you knew she was hurting you, but you were so tired, you couldn’t even do anything to stop it.
“Please don’t send me away, I’ll do better! I will!” 
FInally, the warped darkness was tugged away from you, and you found yourself alone, sittin on the hardwood floor. The vomit had already been cleaned up, but there were bloodstains on your clothes. 
You were small, terrified, cold, angry, guilty, sad, and so, so alone.
You closed your eyes.
You didn’t want to open them.
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roguerogerss · 4 years ago
Note
Hi I loved your Laurie story!!Could I request one?One maybe they meet through Amy when she is in Paris and they fall in love!!You don’t have too it is just an idea !!🥰🥰
that night in paris
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pairing: laurie laurence x reader
w/c: 1.5k
warnings: i think there’s some swearing but i can’t be bothered to read over this again so??
(a/n: i’m so slow at writing i’m so sorry. i haven’t read over or edited this at all, but it’s cute ig. i’ve been loving writing about laurie lately, i feel like he just makes my writing so much better?? idk, anyways. if you enjoy, like and reblog pls! requests r open. ily guys <3)
————
From the moment that she’d first laid eyes on Laurie, she knew that he was someone who she could love. It had been like, her whole life, she'd been waiting for something to happen and never knowing what that something was, and everything had clicked into place when she realised that he was that something.
They'd met in Paris. Y/N was living there at the time and had become good friends with Amy March, a painter who was travelling and had ended up in the small apartment below Y/N's own. Amy told her that she'd stumbled across an old friend who would be coming for dinner and asked if Y/N would like to join them. Of course, she’d said yes.
"And who is this lovely lady?" She'd been grinning as soon as she walked into Amy's dining room, dress swishing behind her, eyes widened at the sight in front of her. When Amy said she'd met an old friend, she didn't mention that he was quite possibly the most strikingly beautiful man that Y/N had ever seen.
"This is Y/N. She's the lovely lady who lives upstairs." Amy smirked knowingly at Y/N while the boy eyed her with an admiration to his gaze. Big, shining emerald eyes looking her up and down, taking in every detail of her light blue dress, the way that her body looked in the tight corset that she wore, every tiny scar or freckle that adorned her face. She could tell that he was observing every little thing about her, and she suddenly felt exposed to him in all ways, like she was standing naked before his eyes.
"Laurie." Laurie. His name rolled beautifully off of his own tongue and she couldn't wait to get to say it for herself. "Theodore Laurence, but call me Laurie." He gripped her hand in his own and bowed his head to kiss her knuckles gently and with soft lips.
"Y/N L/N. Mon plaisir, Laurie." Laurie couldn't help the grin that crossed his face after hearing his name on her lips. He wasn't sure why her French accent surprised him, they were in France after all, but she spoke so beautifully that he wanted her to speak French to him all of the time.
"Le plaisir est tout à moi, ma chérie." He didn't speak much French, only what his father had taught him during their tutoring sessions, but he planned on using the little that he could to his advantage. Y/N could see that Amy was holding back a smile and she had the sudden and overwhelming urge to flip her off.
"Shall we eat?" She interrupted the obvious tension that was brewing. Laurie could've sworn that he'd seen Y/N roll her eyes at Amy and her smirking back as she sauntered to the kitchen to fix them all a plate.
It was a while before any of the three spoke again, only uttering the occasional, "Amy, this is brilliant!" or, "Would anyone like any more wine?". It was normal for them not to speak at meals, what with Amy and Laurie growing up in wealthy families who taught their children to be polite and to never eat with their mouths full, and Y/N going along with whatever Amy did because her family was never rich and she hadn't learned most of the usual etiquette from them.
"So, Y/N," Laurie broke the silence as he took a sip from the looming glass of red wine before him. "how did you and Amy meet?"
"We paint in the same orchard. Of course, I was there first-" Of course, Laurie had no idea that this statement was to start a feud between the two women sat in front of him.
"Okay, but being there first does not mean that it is your orchard!" Amy would've sounded as though she was being serious if the grin on her face hadn't given her away. Laurie smiled and watched on while Y/N laughed and Amy laughed and the pair jabbed fingers at eachother in mock accusation.
"Ladies, ladies!" Laurie held his wine glass high and clanged his fork against it as though he was about to make a speech at a traditional wedding. Y/N giggled and noticed how adorable he truly was, the youthful and childish grin spread across his face, hair mussed from having his hands run through it, under eyes creased from laughter. Laurie Laurence was a picture that could've and should've been painted. Maybe she could convince him to let her do just that if he would stay in Paris a while.
"The food was great, Amy." The night had passed them by in a blur and the red wine was getting to all of their heads, thoughts going hazy and sight blurry. Y/N wasn't sure why she was mentioning the food again. They'd finished eating hours ago and were getting ready to turn in for the night.
"I have something to confess." Amy's words were slurred and her head lulled back onto the headrest of the armchair she was slumped in. Laurie's arm was drunkenly slung around Y/N's neck, even in her state his touch made her feel warm inside and she was aware of just how close his face was to her neck and couldn't help but wish that he would kiss her there and on her face and her lips and everywhere else in between. "I actually do not have another bed. One for Laurie to sleep in."
Y/N couldn't remember thinking before she said, "He can stay with me! Definitely, he can stay with me.”
Time didn't quite seem to move as it should've for the rest of the time sat on Amy's sofa. Maybe it was the alcohol, the wine getting to their minds. Or maybe it was Amy's constant slurred conversation, or the fact that Laurie was so close and his lips tended to brush ever so slightly over her neck whenever he moved his head.
By the time that they were stumbling out of the door, Amy had already gone to bed and Laurie was half asleep with his arms around Y/N's waist and chin balanced on her shoulder from behind.
"We are not going to be able to get up the staircase like this, Laurie." Y/N chuckled. Her eyes were half-lidded as she lazily reached around to tangle her fingers in his hair and toy with it.
He sighed but obeyed, untangling himself from the French girl and tripping over his own feet. He snorted at his own actions as though what he'd done was the funniest thing in the world, and, at the time, maybe it was. "Hold my hand." Arm outstretched towards Y/N, making it hard for her to resist the urge to entwine their fingers together. And so, she didn't.
Laurie was supposed to sleep on the sofa, that was what had earlier been agreed. But, when they were back at Y/N's apartment they found themselves both laying in her bed, side by side, pinkie fingers and feet bumping. Neither of them slept for a while, neither of them spoke, instead, they were quiet as they enjoyed each other's company.
"I think you are beautiful." They must've been silent for at least an hour by the time Laurie finally spoke. The alcohol was beginning to wear off and Y/N could clearly understand what he meant without a foggy haze loosening her grasp on the words.
"I think you are beautiful too, Laurie."
That was the first time of many times that Laurie's lips would be moulded into her own. He didn't care about the consequences of the kiss, didn't bother to find out whether or not she felt the same. Maybe the wine hadn't worn off as much as he'd expected it had, because his mind wasn't able to quite keep up with his body.
He found that his arms had encircled her waist, that his fingers were travelling towards the hem of her silk nightdress, that she was trying to hold back the little groans that left her lips and settled between them in the nighttime air. This, Laurie was convinced, this was heaven.
That night in Paris had only been the beginning of something wonderful, something so exciting and beautiful. The next day, Y/N had taken him to the orchard and painted him like she told herself she would, laying on the grass, flowers of blue, purple, white, surrounding him. He’d laugh at things that she’d say and she wished to capture him like that, grinning, eyes bright and creasing.
The painting was hung in their home when they moved in, above the fireplace, on the grey stone bricks, there for all to see the beauty that Laurie Laurence truly carried, the beauty that she brought out in him.
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thedistantdusk · 3 years ago
Text
Arcadia, Chapter 4
Well! What could happen next to our star-crossed investigative pair? Yeah idk, man... somehow, this fic got a lot darker than I intended. Anyway! Thanks again to the same folks, without whom this story wouldn’t be possible. None of this story is safe for work, and this chapter is no exception ;) 
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
D A Y + F O U R
She’s not sure when she wakes up. Her eyes blink open in the bleary morning… that foggy gap between night and day. Blue-green light streams through the windows, coloring the bedroom like it’s underwater.
He’s the first thing she notices, all warm and curled beside her. Harry… her Harry. A sad smile graces her lips as it all comes flooding back. Mike. The tulpa. The shower. Harry…
But together, all of those things are uncomfortable. Bits of it were nice, but the whole thing makes her stomach churn. It’s much easier to—
She presses her bum against him, hoping that wakes him up. Hoping he takes the hint. Harry heaves a deep breath, but doesn’t acknowledge her. Ginny bites her lip and wiggles back. Again.
Finally, he responds. But not how she’d hoped.
“Let’s… not jump to starting that up again,” Harry murmurs into her ear, his voice graveled with sleep. “Ok?”
She whips around, brow furrowed. “So you’ve suddenly become unattracted to—?”
He barks out a humorless laugh and reaches for his glasses. “We both know that’ll never happen.” He takes her in, reclining on the tufted headboard; she can’t help but feel flattered by the red patches that bloom on his cheeks. “Erm…” He clears his throat. “Could you get a dressing gown, actually? I really want to have a serious conversation and…”
He’s never been able to concentrate while she’s naked, has he?
“Sure.” For some reason, her skin prickles as she rises to her feet to pad across the carpet. Exposed. She feels exposed, even though Harry’s probably seen her naked more times than she has. Because this time, it’s not so much that he’s seeing her body naked— it’s that he’s about to discuss things she’s tried very, very hard to deny.
Ginny emerges from the closet in a white dressing gown and gives Harry a little twirl. “Happy?”
His lips curl in a tired smile. “Not… exactly. But I’m hoping to change that.”
“Oh?” Ginny settles in the desk chair. She’s not keen on this conversation, but some part of her recognizes it’s long overdue.
Harry begins by clearing his throat again. “So. Erm.” He places his fingers in a steeple and studies them. “As I… admitted last night, I’ve never stopped loving you. It’s been an awful, awful five years, but frankly it would’ve been worse if we’d stayed together, under those circumstances.”
She opens her mouth to object, but he raises a hand to forestall an interruption.
“Let… let me finish. Because after Percy died...” He shoots her a significant look. “You changed. Ok?”
“That’s not exactly fair,” she snaps, peering at her painted toenails. “Of fucking course I changed. If I didn’t change, I’d be a bloody sociopath. Is that who you wanted to shag?”
Harry heaves a deep sigh. “No. And I’m not going to let you get away with twisting things… again. Ok? Please, just let me finish.”
She presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. For fuck’s sake, why does she already want to cry?
“You changed,” Harry continues, “and I really don’t blame you for it, but you refused to talk about Percy, or that night, or- or honestly, even anything remotely sad! Ever!” He pauses to collect his thoughts; guilt stabs at Ginny’s stomach. She wasn’t aware this frustrated him quite so much…
“You threw yourself into schoolwork,” he adds, blinking at the far wall. “You lost interest in things you loved. We still had sex, but it was…” He winces. “Unattached. It was… it was like it didn’t even need to be me there, in particular.” His eyes flit back to hers. “I tried to talk to you about it loads of times, but then when you joined the Unspeakables, you just used that as an excuse.”
Traitorous tears drip down her cheeks. She brushes them away to defend herself. “I was already interested in joining up before that,” Ginny insists, her voice warbling. “You weren’t there that year, Harry. You didn’t see what it was like at Hogwarts. The Unspeakables were putting out all this… this rubbish misinformation about you and about muggleborns, and—”
“—All of that is well and good,” Harry interrupts, “but the fact is that you became a different person after Percy died, and after nearly a year of living with that, I’d had enough.” He shrugs. “And even five years later, you’ve never sought help, as far as I know. Professional help, from someone who knows what they’re talking about. Not the type of help you find at the bottom of a pint.”
He’s right, of course. It’s like a stinging slap in the face, but he’s bloody right.
“So!” Harry clears his throat again. “As much as I… enjoyed last night, that can’t happen again if we don’t fix what split us up before. You’re still convinced you killed Percy. Until you’re not? This”— he gestures between them— “can’t work. Full stop.”
Ginny swallows and stares into her lap. “I’m not responsible for my brother’s death,” she whispers, emotionless. It’s a mantra, an oath, one she’s so accustomed to repeating that it’s turned foreign and unfamiliar on her tongue.
“Oh, I’m aware,” Harry says, spreading his palms. “The whole bloody world is aware, Jenny.” He sucks his teeth. “But you aren’t.”
There’s a pause. Ginny bites her lip, tempted to launch the spring-loaded denial she’s learned through years of counseling. But this time, it doesn’t come.
Because Harry knows better.
Shit.
That fact settles in the pit of her stomach; what are the chances, really, that she found herself trapped and playing house with the only person on earth who knows better.
“I was the last to see him,” she mutters, eyes downcast. “I told him he’d never replace Fred. I was drunk. Stupid. Stupidly drunk.” She grips her head in her hands, but the words don’t stop. They’re shooting from her, spurred by years of grief and regret and bursting forth like a steam engine.
“My stupid fucking temper,” she continues, every syllable dripping with self-loathing. “Ruining everything. And then he goes and—” She makes a flailing gesture. “Offs himself. Right on my mother’s fucking birthday! The day before your parents—”
“I know,” Harry whispers, his voice pleading. “Ginny, I know. But please, love, it’s not your fault. It’s never been your fault.”
She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. It’s too much to say it aloud, to admit it, to let the waves of regret wash over her. There’s a scuttling of movement as she blinks ahead, gaping like a fish out of water. She’s not even surprised to feel Harry wrapping his arms around her and bringing her back to the bed. To feel his lips pressing to her temple as her body wracks with sobs. And she can’t do anything but lean into him. She can’t do anything but surrender, completely. To indulge in feeling raw and vulnerable and alive.
She doesn’t know how long it takes to come to. It’s not until she’s clinging to his chest that she draws a deep breath.
“You never told me any of this,” Harry says softly, mournfully, his hand playing with her hair. He loves her hair. He’s always loved her hair. With a final sob, she admits— if only to herself— that she misses letting him love it. She misses how he’d bury his face in the crook of her neck. How he’d inhale deeply, right at the crown of her head, and blink down at her with a dreamy smile.
She misses him.
Fuck. She misses him. And not just shagging him… but the whole bit. The late-night snacks and discussions on quidditch plays and heated debates about the best brand of toilet roll.
“What… what if I agree to work on it?” she finally whispers, eyelashes thick with half-dried tears.
Harry sighs; his hands still haven’t left her hair. “If we both agree to work on it… because trust me, I’m not doing fantastic either.” He lets out a chuckle. “Do you know how weird that was, being the stable one for once? Anyway.” He waves this off and continues. “If we both work on it, with proper mind-healers…” He swallows. “I don’t see why we couldn't be physical. Eventually.”
She pulls back to give him a watery grin. “I love you,” she murmurs. For the first time in years, her chest feels full. Her heart warm. Like there’s a chance at something in the future that doesn’t involve work and sadness and takeaways.
But speaking of work.
“I’d erm. Like to keep things with us private,” she says, playing with a piece of lint on the duvet. “Especially from work. And my family. Because…”
The thought of Attica’s face, pinched in disappointment, is nearly enough to replace the progress they’ve made over the past day.
“No,” Harry agrees quickly. “That’s. Yeah. Especially from Ron.” He shudders. “Can you imagine how well that would go over?”
“Huh! That’s ridiculous, Harry.” She bats her eyes at him, her expression the picture of innocence. “You mean you don’t want my brother to know that you went down on me and promptly spunked your—”
He cuts her off with a laugh, tossing a pillow on her face. She pulls it off with a giggle before settling beside him.
“Didn’t think you noticed that,” he admits, trailing a finger down the side of her face. “I really hoped you were asleep.”
She stifles a yawn. “Mmm. Don’t have to be Hermione to put that one together. Clue one: you were down there, which you’ve always… enjoyed.” She sleepily raises her eyebrows. “Clue two, I’ve seen you do that before — more than once— and you always have this weird… sort of duck-walk to take your trousers off.”
Harry groans, his entire face the color of her hair. “Please, please, don’t stop on account of me.” He somehow manages a sarcastic drawl as he removes his glasses and places them on the bedside table. “Let’s continue to detail all the times I’ve finished too quickly.”
“Not just too quickly,” she corrects, kissing him on the nose. “I’m only talking about coming in your trousers, which you’ve also managed to do several ti—”
Harry snorts. “And how many times have you done it, then?” His green eyes dance with mischief. “Also more than once. As memory serves, our time at Hogwarts got a lot more interesting once you discovered the combination of my thigh and snogging. You just don’t have the equipment to make things particularly messy when—”
“Clue three!” she loudly calls over him. He has the grace to laugh as she turns so they're spooning, her bum pressed against his crotch.
“I… said I loved you,” she finishes, interlacing their fingers. “And that’s always… you know.”
Harry shudders; there’s a sudden rise of fabric against her bum. “Ok, speaking of embarrassing,” he admits, adjusting himself. “You’re actually going to have to erm. Stop saying that? For now? Because…”
“Trust me, Auror Potter,” she murmurs, dropping her voice to her best impression of Kingsley. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“Unfair,” he complains, toying with a piece of her hair. “As you can see, I’m a bit of a mess. It still turns me on when you say you love me.”
“Yeah, well, it still turns me on when you breathe,” she mutters, her eyes growing heavy. “Reckon we can just be messes together.”
Harry chuckles before burying his face into her hair. “I’ll always be your mess. Jenny.”
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imagine-lcorp · 4 years ago
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Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too (One Shot)
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Request
Can I request something with a Paramedic reader attending to Lena's wounds after a car crash. Reader was on her way home from work still in her uniform when she sees the crash at night. Lena gets hurt and the other driver vanishes from the scene. R tends to Lena's broken arm or something. Drives them to the hospital, stays by Lena's side the whole time in the ER and then drives lena home. Lena is smitten by the woman in the uniform and offers R morning coffee since it took all night in the ER
A/N: Hello, my dears, back again with this one shot, as always thank you to the anon that sent this one, I hope I’m not to late (I know I am but pls forgive) and I hope that you like it! Let me know what you think, guys. I love y’all c: 
Lena Luthor x Paramedic Fem!R//Word Count: 2,540  -------------------------------------------------------
When people asked you what was the best part of your job, you would always say it was being able to help people. Which came with its own reward as you could meet some amazing people along the way. The downside of it, however, was that your work was never done. Especially in a place like National City, between the usual medical emergencies, the occasional super-powered villain wreaking havoc and the rare alien invasion, you always had to be ready for anything. Including the car crash you had witnessed while heading home.
It had been a relatively quiet day at the station, your shift had ended at midnight and the only thing you wanted then was to go home, grab some dinner, strip yourself of your uniform, and go to bed early as your day off was waiting for you the next morning. The last thing you had expected once you got off work was to go right back at it.
You had been waiting for the light to turn green at an intersection when a blur to your left startled you, followed by the sound of tires squealing and the loud crash of metal against metal. A moment later, you saw two cars ahead on opposite sides of the road. The black one had a broken windshield, and the driver side doors were dented from where you guessed the red one, with the bent bumper and broken right headlight, had impacted.
When you finally caught up on what was happening, you didn't waste more time. All thoughts about rest and relaxation were forgotten as you started to assess the scene. You turned your blinkers on and moved your car, making sure there were no other cars about to crash on you and close enough to have a better view of the damage. Unfortunately, you didn't get the chance to examine both cars further as you watched the red one take the road again and flee the scene. You stopped your car and got out to check on the people inside the black car.
Approaching carefully, you went to check first on the driver's seat. Inside the black car was a single person. The woman, probably in her mid-twenties, wearing a sleeveless dress, with dark hair, pale skin, and who looked strangely familiar, was lying back on her seat with eyes closed. You took your phone from one of your pockets and called the emergency number.
As you described what had happened to the dispatcher, you examined the woman's condition as best as you could giving them a picture, as clear as possible, about it. She didn't seem to move but her breathing was steady. The crash might have not been as severe as there were no signs of cuts or wounds visible. However, with the airbag in front of her already losing it's shape, you noticed her left arm had a purple bruise. You moved the rest of the airbag with care and grimaced as you watched how big it was. It could be a sing of fracture.
The call was quick and after confirming your location the dispatcher told you there was an ambulance already on its way. In the meantime, you did what you knew best.
"Miss, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?" You said before trying to move the woman. When you didn't get a response, you opened the door and tried shaking her gently in the shoulders. A pair of dazzling green eyes fluttered open, focusing with some difficulty on you. You put your hands on her neck and face for support. "Do you know what happened to you?"
The touch of your hands seemed to shake her a bit, her eyes closing and opening again as if thinking this was some kind of hallucination. Something you imagined was the effect of the shock.
"Oh, you're pretty." The woman said with a drowsy voice.
A little smile formed in the corner of your lips. It wasn't the first time you had received a compliment like that. She was also an undeniably beautiful woman and you would have responded accordingly, had it not been for the current circumstances. Now you feared she had suffered a concussion.
As she saw the little smile in your face, the woman's clouded mind cleared in an instant. Her eyes grew bigger with surprise. It wasn't a thought she was supposed to voice out loud. Her head had felt foggy, as if waking up after a long nap in a bed made of rocks and rusty nails and it didn't help that she had started to feel a little headache, making her almost incapable of forming orderly thoughts, until she realized what she had said.
"Thanks." You managed in the end. "What's your name?"
"Lena." She said with a grunt, like she was finally realizing where she was and what was happening. "Lena Luthor."
At the mention of her name something clicked inside your brain. Of course you recognized Lena Luthor. Besides being one of the richest people in the planet, she was a very active philanthropist. She had made great donations and participated countless times in the charities the hospital you worked in organized. You made a mental note to thank her after all of this but, in the meantime, you proceeded like any other case.
"Alright, Lena. My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I'm a paramedic. An ambulance is already on the way, so I need you to stay with me, okay?"
All my life if you want, Lena thought along with some other things she was aware enough to keep to herself, only giving a small nod in understanding.
You started placing your hands in her neck, her shoulders, her back, and so on, asking if she could feel anything or if she was feeling any pain or discomfort. Most of the time the answer was negative as she only seemed to have a mild headache and some pain on her neck but, as the adrenaline and shock were wearing off, she slowly came to notice the the actual amount of pain in her body, especially in her left arm.
"Any pain here?" You said once you reached her arm.
She winced with a little yelp and for a second tried to pull her arm away.
"Sorry, sorry." You took her arm again in a gentler way, trying to move the rest of the airbag out of the way, placing her arm to a better position and your other hand under hers. "Okay, we are not gonna move from there. Can you feel your fingers?"
Lena nodded, trying to close her fingers around your hand. "Yeah, I can feel them."
"Okay." You moved your other hand, feeling her arm with soft touches. You still weren't sure if her arm was broken but anyway you needed to cover it. "I need to go get some padding for-"
"No, please." Lena quickly said. "I-I don't want to be left alone."
There was fear clear in her eyes and you almost hit your own forehead. For what you had heard around, most of the visits Lena Luthor had ever made to a hospital had been after a direct attempt on her life. With a crazy family and half the city against her, of course, she was scared.
"Alright, don't worry. Once the ambulance is here, we are going to give you something for the pain, get your arm splinted up and take you to the hospital. I promise I'm not leaving, okay?" You said with another little smile, reassuring Lena as much as possible.
"Thank you." She stopped holding her breath.
You tried to make some small talk as you waited, making more questions about trivial things to make sure she was alert and hadn't suffered brain damage. While doing so, you learned that Lena Luthor, for all the things the media some times tried to feed you about her and her family, was a nice person. She was answering every question you threw at her as best as she could, even making some charming remarks from time to time that you found kind of cute. Mostly, you were relieved to confirm she was in good shape.
The ambulance and police sirens could be heard on the distance and a moment later you had to step away to let the team of paramedics work. You recognized your coworkers as they came to your aid. You had to step aside to talk to the police about the incident, giving them the best description you could about the hit and run before some details faded from your memory and were glad to leave them to their own thing as you watched the other paramedics finally pull Lena out of her car.
They were moving her to the stretcher and towards the ambulance when you went to do a final check on her. She seemed calmer, probably thanks to the painkillers they had provided her, and a bit paler, which made you a little worried, but you were relieved to see her arm was already being taken care of. You had thought that was the end of your night and were about to leave Lena's side when she called you.
"(Y/N)?" She said as she was about to be loaded into the ambulance.
"Yes?" You frowned for a moment in confusion but got a bit closer to hear her through the sound of people moving around.
"Could you stay with me?" She asked with pleading eyes.
Somewhere, on the back of her mind, Lena knew this was nothing more than the effect of the drugs in her system. There was no other reason to keep you there, you had helped her so much, calling for help, attending her injuries, and making sure the medical team could take another look at her. And maybe that was the exact same reason she wanted you around for a little longer.
You raised both eyebrows in surprise, and the couple of paramedics did the same as they looked at each other and then at you.
"Well, I-" You hesitated for a moment but considering who was asking, and that the cutest puppy eyes you had ever seen were looking at you, you gave in. Part of you wouldn't admit it yet, but you had somehow grown fond of Lena in such a little time and you still had to thank her for all she had done. "Sure."
Since you couldn't just leave your car behind, you decided to follow the ambulance to the hospital where Lena was brought into the ER. She was placed in a bed and you sat by her side, waiting for the nurses to do a check up.
"I'm sorry I dragged you into this." Lena spoke after an awkward moment of silence, realizing she may have overstepped your boundaries.
Considering her state of mind, she hadn't really thought this through but your presence seemed to soothe her better than the painkillers and that was all she had known at the moment.
"Don't be. I figured it was the least I could do for our biggest sponsor." You said this time with a bit of a tired smile, feeling the exhaustion of the night.
Your weary expression didn't go unnoticed by Lena who also didn't have the chance to ask what you had meant as the nurse and doctor entered the room. They started by asking her more questions and checking her vitals. When they noticed you there, still in uniform, the doctor figured you were one of the paramedics that had brought Lena and told you they would take it from there.
"She can stay, doctor." Lena's tone made it seem almost like and order. "She's a friend."
You were a bit surprised by her answer but both nurse and doctor nodded their agreement and moved on, probably because they knew by now who they were treating.
They moved Lena's arm again to take some x-rays and, through all the wincing and grunting, you instinctively took her hand in yours and you had no idea how much she appreciated the gesture. It had been a long time since another person had offered her a hand in comfort and even a longer time since she had let someone take care of her like this.
It was early morning when after all the necessary medical checks were done, you left the ER pushing a very tired and very beaten up Lena, with a cast in her arm, in a wheelchair through the hospital doors and into the chill of the night. As you pushed the chair outside, you took a moment, taking of your jacket and putting it over her shoulders.
"Here." You said and started pushing the wheelchair into the parking lot. "Now, we better get you home before it gets colder."
"Wait, (Y/N)." Lena said as you were approaching your car. "You don't have to, you have already done so much."
"It's okay. Like I said, it's the least I could do."
"For your biggest sponsor?" Lena asked.
"Yeah, I guess." You said remembering you wanted to thank her for that. "You may not remember but, last year, you made some big donations to every hospital in National City, Miss Luthor. Including the one I work for. That helped a lot of people so, yeah, this is just me trying to repay for all those you have helped."
"Then, if that's what it takes for you to take me home, I'll make sure to make more of those donations." Lena said, forgetting to keep those bits of inner thoughts to herself.
You stopped then, like finally realizing how unusual the situation was. An off-shift paramedic taking care of a car accident patient, accompanying her all the way to the ER, waiting all night beside her as her medical test were done, and taking her home afterwards, like it was the most natural thing to do.
You rounded Lena's chair and crouched in front of her. "It's not just the donations, Lena."
She got worried she had overstepped again but seeing the way your eyes were looking into hers, and the way you had said her name, made Lena feel secure once more.
"I cannot tell you how or why but I have ever done this with anyone I have ever met." You said with a sheepishly smile.
"Maybe we could discover it together." She tried. "Around a cup of coffee, once we reach my home? I mean, since you already have been with me all night. How does that sound?"
You seemed to ponder it for a moment and then you offered your hand. "Sounds like a good deal."
Lena took your hand in hers once more, closing what felt like the best bargain she had ever done in her life and hoping it would last exactly that.
"And now that I'm sure you don't have a concussion I can also tell you. I think you're pretty too." You saw Lena's cheeks turn red and didn't give her time to respond as you returned to the back of the wheelchair, with a grin plastered in your face and excited to star the new day with her.
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jeromesxreader16 · 4 years ago
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Such A Joker (46)
Part 45 Here!!!
~o0o~
As we arrive in town Jeremiah holds my hand tightly. I lean on his arm smiling up towards him. "You're going to be okay." He nods letting out a shaky breath. "I know. I'm worried about what he will say about you. He will be mad." I nod looking away. "He won't know. I'll be going straight to the roof." His eyes grow sad as he gazes at me. "I won't see you again will I?" I smile at him and rest a hand on his cheek admiring his green eyes. "I don't know, Jer. I hope Jerome is going to be locked up and then we can move on. For the better."
Jeremiah nods placing his hand over my own. "Then this is goodbye, (Y/n)." I sigh look upon the sea of frightened citizens. "Until we meet again, Jeremiah." He grabs me smashing his lips upon mine. As my father pulls him away from me he calls out, "I love you!" I cover my mouth smiling.
I quickly run-up to the roof seeing both Bruce and Jeremiah hooked up to their bombs.
"No parent will admit it, but everyone's got their favorites. Right, brother? The one who cleans their room does their homework, doesn't try to kill everybody. Little Mr. Perfect here. Yeah. He was that guy. He got adopted by rich folks. I went to the top schools, then, a top college. Meanwhile, I got dragged through the circus by my depressed alcoholic mother. Forced to clean up elephant dung every day! Do you know how big those things are, folks? But I know something that Mommy and Daddy, they never knew."
Jerome smirks at his brother as he tells their tragic story. "You're as crazy as I am. It's in your DNA. See, we got the same blood running through us. We are practically identical. You are a killer. It's your nature. Stop trying to fight it. You changed (y/n). Pumped lies into her head of sanity. Took her away. I've got a plan for both of you."
Jerome opens a knife and slides it into Jeremiah's hand. "This is your chance, brother. Take your best shot."
Jeremiah screams lunging at his brother. Jerome simply doges it and punches him in the face. Gunfire rings out from the streets below. I lean over watching the chaos and losing sights on Jerome and Jeremiah.
As the panic increases, a blimp glides over the Square. The door to the rooftop burst open and a bleeding Jerome stumbles over to me laughing. "Look at her! Isn't she beautiful?"
Jerome looks to me pulling me to dance with him. "I'm not dumb, doll. I know where you've been." He squeezes my side sharply causing me to flinch. "You've been shot, Jerome." "Aw, what about that." He walks me over near the edge standing up on it and overlooking at his creation.
"Hands up." My father's voice rings out from behind us. Jerome turns around chuckling. He pulls out his phone raising a finger, "Just give me a second. Got to call the pilot. Tell him he's in position." In a split second Jerome's wrist is shot making him drop the phone.
"Not cool." He groans glaring at Jim.
"Jerome..." I state watching him with sad eyes.
He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. Too late, anyway. Bombs away!" He shouts as another gunshot sounds. I scream as it enters his abdomen.
Jerome looks down at his wound. "Funny." He falls back making me run after him. "No!" My father grabs me as we both view Jerome dangling.
Jerome looks at me and smiles. This is where we end.
"You gonna let me fall and die? Or are you gonna pull me up and arrest me? What's it gonna be? Lawman or murderer?" I reach down but Jerome doesn't reach for me. "Dad... Please."
Jim reaches down but Jerome laughs swatting his hand away and hanging onto the pole with just his hands.
"Ah. Good ol' Gordons. The two of you! Always playing by the rules. That's why I'll outlive you. That's why I'm loved. It's why she loves me! 'cause I don't give a damn about the rules." He chuckles looking at the both of us.
"Jerome, grab my hand." He shakes his head smiling.
"It's a long way down. You sure you'll outlive me?"
"Oh, I'm sure. 'cause I'm more than a man. I'm an idea, a philosophy. And I will live on in the shadows within Gotham's discontent. I'll always be a part of you won't I, (y/n)? Say... Let my bro take care of you." He cackles blowing me a kiss. "You'll be seeing me soon. Au revoir!" Jerome lets go falling to the ground and onto a parked car ending his last seconds in Gotham.
My chest burns as his smile stay wide. His eyes looking up at me. I cry into my father's chest as he holds me. "It's alright, (Y/n). I'm here. I got you."
~
As we get down to the ground people are gathered around Jerome's body. "GCPD. Everybody get back!" Jim yells causing others to thin out.
Only leaving a few including Jeremiah. I walk over pulling on his sleeve. "(Y/n). Oh my god." He wraps his arm around me tightly. "I'm so sorry." I shake my head. "It's okay. He's in peace now."
He looks down at me with puffy eyes. "Can I come home?" I ask quietly. He smiles and cups my cheek nodding. "Of course you can. I wouldn't have you anywhere else."
"Mr. Valeska. Ms. Gordon. I'm sorry for the loss."
"Jeremiah, I meant what I said about your work being of importance to this city. Let Wayne Enterprises fund your work with a grant." Bruce offers with a nod.
"Thank you," Jeremiah says nodding. "We'll be in touch, Bruce."
As we walk away together I can't help but feel light. I look over at Jeremiah looping my arm in his. "Promise me that we will keep each other sane?" Jeremiah kisses my head nodding. "I promise, love."
~
I walk on the cold ground barefoot leading to the office. I knock twice before entering. "You know you need to go to sleep." I sit on the desk smiling at him as he scans his work. "I have slept." I pinch his nose rolling my eyes. "That kind of sleep doesn't count, Mr. Valeska." He shrugs coming around the desk and standing in between my legs.
"Alright. How about we open these and then we go to bed?" He passes me a small ring box with a tag while he holds a wrapped box. "Who are these from?" "Bruce Wayne." I giggle shaking mine. "Must be expensive."
As we tear into our gifts the tension is thick. "Same time?" Jeremiah asks like a child at Christmas. I nod smiling with excitement.
As I open the lid a tube spays me the purple gas. I cough falling on the floor. "Ahh, honey, do you smell that cooking?" Jerome's voice cackles in my mind. "You know how it feels love. It's just like a drug. Let it in. Let it flow. Let us grow." He laughs in my ears as I scream covering my ears.
Jeremiah thrashes around screaming as well. He soon starts to laugh and his smile grows wide. "Jer!" I scream as he falls on the floor.
I start laughing remembering all the things that made my blood-red hot. The screams of the victims I've taken. The wide fearful eyes of citizens.
"You wanted a new life, doll? You've got one! BURN IT DOWN!"
~
~Two Weeks Post Spray~
I sit on the couch keeping myself occupied with my phone as Ecco strolls in, sitting beside me. "Hey girlfriend."
"Hey Ecco! What are you doing here? I'm sure Jereminah gave you the week off." She shrugs smiling. "He did, doesn't mean I can't spend time with you, right? It's been a while since we hung out."
I look at the time seeing it's close to dinner and lock my phone. "You want to grab some drinks?" She nods standing. "It's a date. I'll drive." I laugh putting on my shoes and walking towards the office.
I peek my head in and see Jeremiah reading. "Hello (y/n)." He spills out my name like honey. He looks up smiling at me.
"Hi." I swoon as I walk over to him, resting on his leg. "I'm going to have a girls night with Ecco. Want me to get anything for you?" Jeremiah closes his book and removes his glasses. "You and Ecco?" I nod confused.
"We're good friends, Jer. She's looked after me for a while now." He hums smirking. "Would you rather me stay with you today?" Jeremiah shakes his head laughing. "No darling. Go out and have fun tonight!" He pats my hip standing me up. "Save some fun for me later, doll." He growls in my ear twirling me out the door.
I wink and salute to him. "Yes sir."
~
I laugh slamming my empty shot glass down. "Another!" Ecco shouts ringing us another round of shots.
I lean my head on her shoulder feeling foggy. "This- this is great! I haven't been able to just let go, ya know?" Ecco nods, "You out of everyone I've known deserves to drink." "What do you mean? My life isn't that nuts!" Ecco's eyes widen and she dies in laughter.
"R-really? Are you joking?" "I mean it's unusual, but not nuts! At least I'm happy."
Her eyes fall and she nods. "You're really happy with him?" I nod smiling. "He's great to me." "He's always working." Ecco agues.
"He makes time for me." Ecco scoffs muttering something under her breath. "Huh?" Ecco smiles shaking her head. "What do you say I get you home?" I nod standing and stumbling to the car.
"Heels are never a good idea when I've been drinking! I don't think I can- Whoa!" I trip falling.
Ecco grabs my waist catching me as I giggle drunkly. "You're so waisted!" She cackles leaning me against the car.
She opens the passage door letting me fall into the seat. "Hey Ecco." I whisper pulling her close. "Yes?"
I turn to her smiling, "think you could do me a favor?" She places a hand on my thigh gazing at me. "Anything (y/n)." She leans in awaiting. "Awesome. Can you take my shoes off? They're so far away." I slump back in my seat closing my eyes.
"Sure."
Seconds later my bare feet hit the floor mat and Ecco raised. I open my eyes checking on her, "Ecco, are you-" Her lips press flush against mine and she places her fingers in my hair.
She pulls away breathlessly. "Don't go back to him, (y/n). He doesn't give you enough." I stare at her confused. "You're drunk, Ecco." I giggle pushing her away softly.
She grabs my chin and she pecks my lips lightly. "Okay, (y/n). You're happy and I'll keep it at that." Before I close my eyes she mutters three words I never expected.
She buckles me into the seat, kisses my head, whispers "I love you." Then closes my door starting the long ride home.
~
I sit up groaning and fall back into the silk pillowcase. A sharp giggle causes me to open my eyes seeing Jerome sitting at the edge of the bed. "You got a little frisky last night didn't you?" I tilt my head looking at him. "What do you want?" He crawls up the bed kissing me cheeks.
"How is my dear brother? Any sign of insanity yet? Yours is kicking in nicely, but he's a tough cookie isn't he?" I roll my eyes covering my head with the pillow. "He'll never give into it." Jerome pulls the pillow off my face smiling. "You never used to be this naïve." He sighs rolling off the bed and hitting the floor. "Enjoy the sanity while you still can, doll. Dark days are coming for Gotham." Jerome places a hand on my stomach smiling. "But there is always a spark of light in the dark isn't there?" He giggles, vanishing as he leaves the pressure on my stomach.
I shake my head standing, but as soon as my feet hit the floor a rush of sickness washes over me. I run to the bathroom throwing my insides into the bowl.
Jeremiah rushes in kneeling next to me. "Oh, honey, too much fun last night?" I lean on the wall breathing hard. "It must've been." Jeremiah nods helping me up. "Jim called." "I missed his call?" "No, love, he called me." I smile leaning against the counter.
"For?" "He invited us over for dinner tonight. He said something about starting up the Weekly Gordon Dinner Fest and convinced me it was going to be amazing." "Wow. He's inviting you over. You know what that means? He likes you." Jeremiah shakes his head. "He likes that I keep his daughter safe." I giggle kissing his nose. "Nope. He likes you, Jeremiah. I can feel it."
~
"Do I need to dress fancy or is this purple tie too much?" Jeremiah asks, turning around to face me. "Purple? That's new for you." Jeremiah nods tugging at it and smirking. "It is. Makes me feel fresh. Do you like it, love?" I waltz over to him with his blazer. "You look great." Jeremiah slides his jacket on and wraps his arms around me. "And you... look darling in red."
He swings me around and I laugh leaning into him. As I hold my hand on his chest I notice the skin around his neckline is extremely pale. I pull at the collar looking at the ghostly skin beneath. "Something wrong, doll?" I looked up at him and for a moment his eyes were light as snow. I blink rapidly only to see them a healthy green again. "You're just... pale. More than usual." Jeremiah smiles, shrugging. "I live underground, (y/n). Sunlight isn't my best friend." I nod as he walks us away from our home.
~
"I just can't believe you made this all alone, dad." I laugh as I help set out the spread my father had made for tonight. "I'm not completely helpless." He says picking up a plater. "Here Jim, let me." Jeremiah takes it and sets the food on the table.
My dad nods smiling. "You did good this time, (y/n)." I nod smiling at my favorite men. "Oh, almost forgot!" Jeremiah pulls out a bottle of scotch and passes it to my father. "Can't come without a gift." My father pats Jeremiah's shoulder nodding. "Thank you Jeremiah. Care for a glass?" "Please." Jeremiah chuckles pulling out my chair.
As dinner runs on course everyone smiles and laughs. I gaze at my family with a smile. "Would you look at that?" Jerome strolls out of the kitchen drinking from the bottle of scotch. "That could've been us."
Jerome makes faces at the two of them as he downs his drink. "Just look at you. Such a happy family. Why don't you have a drink to celebrate?" Jerome starts to poor scotch in my glass but looks up at me with a smirk. "Oh wait... that wouldn't be healthy for the little babe, would it? Ah more for me!"
"(Y/n)?" I shake my head looking at my father. "I-I'm sorry. What?" "Are you okay, honey? You look like you're going to be sick." I place my hand on my stomach, but remove it quickly, placing it on the table. "I'm fine, Dad."
~
As I'm drying my hair, Jeremiah walks in the bathroom. "Are you going to tell me what happened at dinner?" I sigh looking at him.
"I think we need to go back two weeks and take a recap. We never talked about it." "About what?" "The spray, Jeremiah! We both got a spray special for us and woke up like nothing happened!" Jeremiah's eyes flash with fear as he looks at me. He trembles moving towards the bed. "I-I thought it was all a dream. I've been seeing him everywhere. I thought maybe it was just a way to cope." He holds his head in his hands.
I sit in front of him removing his hands. "What has he done to you, Jeremiah?" He holds my hands shaking. "I hear everything he says. He's always in the back of my mind just picking away. Putting thoughts in my head. Bad thoughts. It's getting harder to resist, (y/n)."
I took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt revealing his pale chest. I run my fingers over it furrowing my brows. "It started at my legs. I hate to think what it will do when it gets to my face. I'll look horrid." I laugh shaking my head. "No. You'll look just as handsome."
Jeremiah laughs, grabbing my hands again. "And you?" I smile and sigh. "Just like all of your work was reversed. I can't even force him out of my mind now. He's just mocking me about everything. How happy we are. How Jim likes you."
Jeremiah holds me in his arms as I run my fingers over his ghostly skin. "No matter where this takes us we stay together." "Always, Jeremiah."
~
I gasp sitting up in bed. "You got about 1 minute." "Until what?" Jerome leans on his hands smirking at me. Suddenly a rush of sickness strikes me causing me to invade the bathroom once more.
Jerome laughs strolling in. "If it's a boy can you name him after his daddy? Jerome Valeska the second! Has a good ring don't you think?" "Y-you're not the father." Jerome smirks backing away. "You sure about that? I bet he'll even have my eyes!"
I wipe my mouth and crawl back in bed. He's not that father. I'm not pregnant at all.
"Or for a girl we could go for-" "SHUT UP!" I scream throwing a pillow at the figure.
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wkemeup · 5 years ago
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Guiding Light (5)
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summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 7.9k warnings: torture, angst™, a fluffy flashback bc it’s seriously needed 🖤series masterlist // series playlist
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O N E  M O N T H  L A T E R
Bucky was covered in sweat. Blood dripped from the gash on his forehead and an awful pain in his left thigh from where a knife was currently embedded into the muscle. He let out a guttural shout, shoving the Hydra agent back several feet and straight through the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the foundation as particles of dust and drywall clouded around him.
The agent groaned, turning onto his stomach and attempted to crawl away, hands scrambling on the concrete, but Bucky was too quick, stalking over him with a quick yank to the knife buried in his leg and tossed it across the room. He reached down and grabbed a tight grip of the man’s collar, heaving the agent to his feet, then higher still as he held him off the ground. The man’s feet kicked at the air.
“Where is she?!”
“I don’t know what you’re—"
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Bucky howled, shaking the agent as his hands grasped at Bucky’s left wrist, nails scratching over metal plates. Bucky slammed the agent against what was left of the wall. “Tell me where she is or I’ll end your pathetic little li-”
“Bucky!” Steve shouted as he emerged through the hole in the wall, holstering his weapon.
Bucky shot Steve a glare, turning back to the agent and pressing the grip of his hand around the man’s neck, watching as he started to turn red. It was satisfying to watch him squirm.
Steve groaned, half-jogging towards Bucky until he stood over his shoulder.
“Buck, stop it,” Steve demanded, voice stern though he didn’t make a move to force Bucky to stand down. “We need him for information. You kill him and he’s useless to us.”
“He’s pretty useless right now,” Bucky countered, pressing harder on the agent’s windpipe.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Steve warned, cautious eyes glancing over his friend. “We’ll bring him back with us and interrogate him. He might know something, even if he doesn’t realize it.”
Bucky growled, eyes narrowing on the man as his skin began to turn a light shade of blue, lips gasping for breath, eyes bulging, and then, Bucky released his grip. The agent fell to the floor, coughing and retching as he struggled to find air. Bucky rolled his eyes in disgust, stepping away just as Sam rushed in to restrain the agent on the floor.
As Bucky made his way through the hole in the wall, blood dripping from the open wound in his thigh, Steve put his hand on his shoulder, a soft touch though it brought Bucky to a cold stop.
“I don’t like what this is doing to you, Buck.”
Bucky shook his head, the flattened expression seemingly permanent on his features. “I left this one alive for you, Steve. That should be good enough.”
Without bothering to wait for the speech Steve usually gave at the end of every raid about how Bucky was coming dangerously close to winter soldier territory and how he should take a break from missions for a few days, Bucky pushed his way out of the room and towards the quinjet. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d sit out another mission, not until they brought you home. He didn’t care if he fell right back into the cold, dark shell he barely existed in in the years before you came into his life. He'd put himself through the chair before he gave up on you. Consequences be damned.
The ride back to the compound was filled with the same uncomfortable silence it usually carried. With Steve attending to the pilot’s seat and Sam guarding the Hydra agent they had taken prisoner, Natasha swung her legs around the seat ahead of Bucky, eyeing him carefully as he kept his stare hardened on the flicker of the altitude light on the dashboard.
He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, and he curled his hands around the arm rests.
“Steve’s got a point, you know,” Nat said, leaning her right shoulder against the backrest of the seat. “Don’t think Y/n would like what all this is doing to you, either.”
Bucky gritted his teeth. “Y/n is being held captive by the people who tore me apart from the inside out. She knows what they could do to her and she'd want me to do whatever the hell it took to bring her home.”
Nat sighed, gaze dropping for a moment as her eyes flickered over to your empty seat, the one next to Bucky. “She wouldn’t want you to lose yourself in the process, James.”
She was right. Bucky knew as much. From his first mission back in the field following the clearance from his therapist and Dr. Cho, he’d been different; more aggressive, too quick to shoot on sight, a cold hollowness in his chest with every base they raided only to come up empty. 
He was a far cry from the man you knew. The one who smiled often and teased you about the pillow crease marks on your cheeks in the morning and learned how to make banana bread just because he overheard you mention just once in passing how much you loved it. He lost his quick-witted jokes with Sam and flinched away from Steve’s touch. You’d be disappointed in him for closing up so easily without you around.
Bucky clenched his jaw, turning back to Natasha. “Yeah, well Y/n isn’t here, is she?”
Nat stared back at him, firm features on her face, though a sadness lingered being her eyes. She nodded carefully because there was nothing left to say and turned back around in her seat. Bucky felt no relief.
Hours later as the team debarked the jet, Tony was waiting at the edge of the hanger, arms crossed over his chest and a desolate look upon his face. Bucky could already fell the tightness in his chest, knowing exactly what that look meant.
“We got another tape,” Tony said flatly. Steve and Sam exchanged a worried glance and Bucky could feel the entire team’s eyes on him, searching for a reaction they wouldn’t find. He was too numb for that now. Tony gestured for everyone to follow him back into the compound.
“How many does this put us at, Tony?” Steve asked as they made their way to the living room on the eleventh floor.
“Five,” Bucky replied, interjecting before Tony could answer. Sam cursed under his breath.
Since the first video was played on live television, different news networks across the country had started to receive a new tape once a week.
The second time you appeared on the television, looking worse than the first with the infection on your cheek spreading in angry red veins down your face, and dark purple bruising under your eye, Bucky had been out on a run.
He’d returned to find the entire team gathered around the television in the living room. Nat’s hand pressed over her mouth. Steve pacing back and forth as he stole quick glances at the screen. Sam gritting his teeth, arms crossed over his chest. Tony sitting on the very edge of the couch, hands clasped, head dropped.
You’d been forced deliver some bullshit line about how Hydra was the real hero of the attack in D.C. and how SHIELD was an enemy of the people. You looked like you had taken a fresh beating before that recording and Bucky knew you had tried to resist reading those cue cards, but Hydra has an exceptional way of making even the strongest of wills cave. He was familiar with it himself and he was thankful you did, if it spared you even an ounce of pain.
Tony was somehow able to get a hold of the third video before it aired and he did everything in his power to keep the news network from releasing it. It was shock value, ratings, just to have your face on their screen, broken and beaten, reciting from cue cards with a voice so raspy Bucky could barely stand hearing it without tears welling behind his eyes. You swayed in the seat as you spoke, barely able to keep yourself upright. This time, Hydra had you talk about their technological advancements, how they were surpassing SHIELD in strategy and resources. Steve was taking notes.
The media started to speculate after that; throwing around commentary aimlessly about whether you were a traitor to the state or if you had been a double agent all this time. They had debates about if resources should be spent to find you at all, given the state of your appearance and the apparent ‘obvious’ fact that you’d given Hydra information on US defense programs. Bucky had nearly thrown an entire chair at the TV when he heard that. Even daytime talk shows and late-night hosts were talking about it, giving their two cents as if their opinion mattered.
The fourth video had been the worst. They didn’t bother with cue cards, or with strapping you to a chair. Instead, the entire three minute and forty-six second video was just a man in a black mask beating you. You were too weak, your muscles too deteriorated and brain too foggy to fight back. Blood splattered onto the camera lens when the final hit took you down, knocking you out cold.
Sam nearly lost his mind, calling down to the network himself for them to cut the feed to the damn video, questioning how they could even air something as graphic and violent as that. It always came back to the same answer: ratings.
The man in the mask, the same voice Bucky recognized from the first video, had said that this was a punishment for you as he held your unconscious body up for the camera to see. For what, Bucky didn’t know. He supposed it didn’t matter. He had gripped the edge of the counter so tight it broke into pieces in his hands.
Forty-five days you’ve been held captive by Hydra by the time the fifth video came in. Forty-five days.
Bucky knew exactly the kinds of horrors you would face. He knew they would beat you and starve you and torture you until you lost your will to live. He didn’t dare let himself imagine you like he had once been; crying and begging, so fucking afraid and cringing from every touch because pain was all he came to know. He didn’t want to imagine you as anything other than the impossibly sweet, bubbly, endearing woman that pulled him from the cold edge of darkness, the woman he came to love.
“This aired while you guys were somewhere over the Atlantic,” Tony said, turning the TV on and setting up the recorded segment. This time, a man sat behind the anchor’s desk, dark brown hair coiffed away from his face and a navy-blue suit. He was scribing with a pen as he spoke, keeping his hands busy.
“--received yet another recorded tape from members of the terrorist group known as Hydra,” the man stated as an image of your face appeared on the screen beside him. It was a still from the previous video, blood covering your face. Bucky cringed.
“This time, the tape had been left at our studio headquarters in Los Angeles. The random drop offs seem to be the culprit's main tactic in evading the police who have attempted to apprehend whoever is behind these recording.”
The anchor sighed. “Please be advised that what you are about to see may be graphic and difficult to watch.”
The warning that always proceeded these videos.
They didn’t have to show this. They didn’t have to put your pain and torture on display for millions to witness, but they did anyway. For what? Ratings? They were feeding into what Hydra wanted. To create fear and distrust amongst the people, to see their hero beaten and broken while the Avengers did nothing to save her.
Bucky felt sick.
The screen switched to the same dark room they usually filmed these videos in and sure enough, there you were, gazing at the camera under heavy lids, purple bruises and features gaunt. Bucky gripped at the edge of the couch as he leaned against it for support, dropping his head for only a second to catch his breath. Steve’s hand rested on his shoulder and Bucky took as much strength as his friend was offering and faced the television again.
You swallowed, eyes glazing over as you struggled to read from the cards. There was a clench in your jaw, a sniffle, and Bucky realized suddenly you were trying to keep yourself from crying. You glanced over at someone behind the camera, pleading, begging, and you closed your eyes shut at whatever his response was. A tear slipped down the side of your face. Defeated. 
Bucky bit down so hard on his cheek he tasted blood.
“Bucky,” you choked out and his stomach plummeted, all eyes in the room turning to him, “they know you’ll-- you’ll be watching this and they have a message for you.”
You let out a shaky breath, hands curling against the arm rest, finger nails long been ripped from you, red angry skin in its place. Licking at your lips you shook your head subtly, so carefully that Bucky almost missed it, like you were trying to send him a sign beyond what your captors would notice. A tear passed over the dried blood caked on your cheek.
“This is—this is because of you.”
Then, your restraints were released and you were being thrown from the chair, body slammed against the wall with such force you let out a pained cried as you struggled to grab onto the arm holding you in place. A tall figure, muscular build, with that same black mask covering his face he wore in every video thus far, wrapped his hand around your neck.
Bucky clenched his hands, arms trembling, helpless, because there was nothing he could do. This had already happened. You’d already been beaten, already uttered his name in that helpless cry, all while he was completely unaware. It was only a recording. He couldn’t save you from what had already happened. 
The man pulled you towards him, only to slam you against the wall again. When your face turned blue, he tossed your body carelessly across the room. You heaved through raspy breaths, desperate to find air and you tried to crawl away. The fear in your eyes was enough to break Bucky in two.
Then, the screen turned black.
“What the hell!” Bucky shouted, rushing towards the television, searching for the power button only to find it did nothing as he pressed it. He whipped around to face Stark. “What did you do!?”
“You don’t need to see that,” Tony replied calmly and Bucky nearly released a feral growl as he attempted to charge at Stark before Steve came up behind him and held him back.
Tony stood his head. “There’s nothing else in that video beside that asshole beating Y/n unconscious. Again. They’re doing it to torture you, Barnes.”
“So, let them!” Bucky shouted, struggling against Steve’s grip. He slammed Steve’s back against the television, though it did nothing to release his grip.
“I’ve seen the whole thing,” Tony snapped, shouting over the struggle between the super soldiers. “It’s ugly and I know for a fact Y/n wouldn’t want you to watch it. Its only purpose is to mess with you, don’t you get that? You saw how hard she was fighting even having to read that damn card! We all know you’d only use it as fuel to punish yourself again and again for her being where she is and I’m sick of it! Y/n would be pissed as hell that you’ve been so willing to jump right back into Winter Soldier mode at the first excuse you got!”
“Watch it, Tony!” Steve warned and Bucky threw himself from Steve’s hold.
To everyone’s surprise, even as Tony activated the extension of his suit on his hand from the pieces in his watch, as Sam and Nat readied themselves for a fight, Bucky remained completely still. Chest panting, hands clenching into painful grips at his side. A lull came over and everyone relaxed. Everyone but Bucky.
“What’s happening to Y/n is not your fault, Barnes,” Tony pressed and Bucky kept his gaze focused on the floorboards. “We all know that you did everything you could to save her that day. But Y/n is strong. Her body may be weak right now but her mind isn’t. She’s strong and she’ll survive this. Just... don’t be a different person when she gets back.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, looking up to Tony who was disarming the iron man armor on his hand. Tony was never someone Bucky expected to get along with, not after the history they shared, and he was okay with that. So, for Tony Stark, the man who Bucky deprived of his parents, to show him concern, to some him even some level of compassion, was too much.
He turned on his heels and left the room, disregarding his name as it was called.
***
“Let me talk to him.”
Forty-seven days since you’d been taken and Bucky stood outside of the interrogation room in the sub-ground level of the compound. Behind the thick layer of the one-way mirror, Bucky observed the agent he nearly beat to death in the abandoned Hydra base in Germany sitting smugly at the center of the room. The agent that now had an identity after FRIDAY was able to run facial recognition.
His name was Cal Jennings, a mid-level agent with a Hydra security clearance high enough to know more than what he said. Dried blood caked on his upper lip from where Natasha had broken his nose on day one of her interrogation. He wasn’t the same fearful mess he had been when Bucky had his hands on him. It was a front, a ploy, to lure Bucky into killing another one of their agents before they could be interrogated for information.
Jennings sat alone, arms tied behind his back, as he stared at the mirror. If Bucky didn’t know this was a one-way mirror, he would have thought Jennings was looking right at him.
“You know I can’t allow that, Buck,” Steve replied to his request as he turned away from the window to face his friend. “He knows something and--”
“That’s exactly why you need to send me in, Steve,” Bucky countered, growing desperate. “I can get it out of him. You know I can.” Steve hesitated, clearly thinking and Bucky continued, “If he knows anything about where Y/n is... Please, Stevie.”
Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping and he gave a slow nod.
Before Steve could change his mind, Bucky pushed his way out the door and into the hallway. The fluorescents were brighter out there, enough that he had to squint to avoid the harsh influx of light to his eyes. A few more steps and he was at the door. Right hand reached out and touched the cold metal of the knob, unclicking the locks until it swung open.
Jennings didn’t so much as turn in Bucky’s direction as he stepped into the room. The door slammed shut behind him.
Bucky studied Jennings, searching for weaknesses he’d been trained to locate in his Hydra days; fresh wounds to exploit, the slight dip of a bone broken years ago he could re-snap, the flicker of eyes to a vulnerable position. Jennings gave him nothing, kept his stare straight ahead on the mirror, admiring his own reflection, but Hydra had trained Bucky well. He would find something to make Jennings talk. He always did.
“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky grumbled, pacing around the room in slow, calculated steps, “where is she?”
Jennings chuckled and it made Bucky’s blood boil. “I thought I was... what did you say... ‘useless?’”
“An act,” Bucky spat, circling around the back of Jennings’ chair. “You wanted me to kill you so you wouldn’t have to sit where you are now. You knew what you would face if we brought you in alive and you cowered away.”
Jennings smirked, meeting Bucky’s eye in the mirror. “You think very highly of yourself, Soldat.”
Bucky flinched at the name, a chill sweeping through his spine. Jennings pursed his lips, taking note of the curl of Bucky’s hand at it clenched into a fist.
“Tell me, Soldat,” Jennings taunted, “does your whore know everything about your past with us? Does she know how many you’ve killed? How many civilians have been caught in the crossfire? Does she know how much you enjoyed it?”
He paused, snickering as he glared over at Bucky with a kind of disgust and amusement all mixed in one, eager to watch the former soldier fall apart at the mere mention of your name. Jennings smirked.
“Does your girl know she’s fucking a monster?”
A growl ripped through Bucky’s chest and his left hand was suddenly wrapped around Jennings’ throat. Pressing hard against his vocal cords, Jennings still managed to chuckle through the gasps of air.
It didn’t matter that he’d never touched you like that, that he’d never had the chance to so much as tell you how he felt, let alone show you in such a way. The very idea of this man talking about you like that, the clear picture in his head as his licked his lips even with Bucky’s hand wrapped tight around his neck, drew a burning rage from somewhere dark, deep within Bucky’s chest.
A hand slammed against the one-way mirror from the observation room; Steve’s warning to back off. Bucky released Jennings with a grunt.
Heavy coughs and a snicker under his breath, Jennings only seemed to grin wider at Bucky’s reaction. “Touchy...”
“Where is she?” Bucky demanded, voice low, even, and restraining the rage festering under the surface.
“Who?”
“You know the fuck who, asshole.”
“Oh,” Jennings feigned realization. A short shrug of his shoulders and then, “Agent Y/l/n?”
Bucky took in a breath that was hot in his lungs. He folded the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, exposing the cold metal of his left forward. Jennings laughed to himself.
“I remember her. Liked the way that stealth suit of hers clung to her ass,” Jennings jeered, shooting Bucky a watchful stare from the reflection of the mirror, waiting for him to break. Bucky clenched his jaw, curling his hands back into fists to keep them off of the man’s face.
“Enough,” Bucky spat. “Where is she?”
"You know, I see why you’re upset, Soldat. You know exactly what we will do to her because you’ve experienced it yourself,” Jennings said, too calmly, too arrogantly to stir up anything but a paralyzing dread in Bucky’s stomach. “You know that we’ll ruin her. You know we’ll rip her apart from the inside out. We’ll break her down so she becomes something so unrecognizable you’d wish we had killed her!”
Jennings yanked on his bindings, almost feral, and Bucky suddenly couldn’t move.
“She’s been beaten and tortured and mutilated just like you were!” Jennings continued with a malice in his voice Bucky had only heard in his decades under Hydra’s hold. “You won’t find her in time. You won’t save her. She’ll die in that cell the way you were supposed to! You’re never going to see her again!”
It was too much, the blood boiling in his veins, the pulsing in his head blinding his vision, and Bucky could hardly feel the ground beneath his feet. Jennings watched him from the mirror as Bucky stood in the back corner of the room, eyes on the floor, struggling to get ahold of himself and Jennings began to laugh, a sick kind of sound that only seemed to worsen the trembling in his hands.
“Tell me where she is!” Bucky yelled out, punching his fist against the wall enough to break off fragments of the concrete wall behind his knuckles. Jennings shrugged, unaffected.
“Why would I do that?” he sneered, a vicious grin curling up his thin lips. “It’s so fun to see the infamous Winter Soldier, the man who has killed presidents and taken out entire governments single handedly, reduced to a lovesick, pathetic little man over some cheap, worthless whor--”
Bucky’s fist collided with the side Jennings’ face, enough for blood to splatter from the sick curve of his grin to the pavement below. But he didn’t let up. No, he swung again, this time with the hard metal of his left fist and Jennings’ chair, bolted to the ground, lifted from the hinges and crashed to the floor on its side. Bucky couldn’t hear Steve as he pounded on the glass, warning him, not as he threw punch after punch into Jennings’ side, his face, his gut, as he grabbed a hold of Jennings’ leg and twisted until something popped and Jennings let out a scream.
Steve and Sam barreled into the room, arms snaking around Bucky to hull him off, blood dripping off of his knuckles as he shook Sam off easily, shoving Steve back against the mirror causing it to crack. Bucky charged back to the ground, grabbing a firm grip of Jennings’ collar, forcing him to meet his eye, even under layers of blood on his face and the swelling already forming over his features.
“I won’t ask again!” Bucky roared, fist held high, ready to strike, “Where is she?!”
Steve and Sam froze behind Bucky as Jennings began to snicker, blood sleeping out from behind his lips, pooling over his chin. He spat a thick glob of it to the floor, teeth red as he jeered up at Bucky.
“You will never find her, Soldat,” Jennings slurred through the blood pooled in his mouth. “Your final punishment is what we will do to her and she will never be the same.”
Bucky dropped his grip, stumbling back and Jennings collapsed to the ground. Sam rushed forward, hulling Jennings’ chair back on its legs and pressed his fingers to Jennings’ pulse. A sigh of relief as he looked back at Steve, a nod, and Bucky nearly fell to the ground. Steve’s strong arms snaked under Bucky’s and yanked him to his feet before his knees could buckle under him.
“You got this?” Steve asked Sam, nodding at Jennings whose chin was draped to his chest, knocked out cold.
“Yeah I can handle this piece of shit,” Sam grumbled back, resting his hands on his hips. He glanced back at Buck as he hung in Steve’s grip. “Get him out of here.”
Bucky allowed Steve to assist him out of the room, just long enough to regain strength in his legs, and he waved him off carefully, giving him an appreciative nod. Steve didn’t say anything, but he walked Bucky the entire way to the elevator. For good reason, Bucky assumed. He would have tried to sneak back into the interrogation room for another shot at Jennings if he thought Steve wouldn’t be able to stop him.
“You’re not thinking straight, Buck,” Steve said as they approached the elevator. He pressed the single button and it illuminated under his touch.
“Never really could without her,” Bucky shrugged.
“That’s not true. You’ve done so well and, sure, Y/n has been a huge help in your recovery and you’ve only gotten better since you guys have been, um... close,” Steve said awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head, “but, you can still be you without her. You’re strong enough for that.”
“What if I don’t want to be?” Bucky sighed dejectedly.
The elevator dinged as the doors opened, though Bucky didn’t move. He stared at the small scratches on the metal shine of the wall, tiny imperfections. An ache sat and festered in Bucky’s chest, like a boulder holding weight on his lungs, only able to alleviate when you were beside him.
“Please, don’t say that,” Steve exhaled sadly. “We all know what she means to you and I know this is killing you but... you’ll survive this, Buck. We’ll bring her home, you hear me?”
“It’s just, I...” Bucky let out a heavy breath, turning to his oldest friend as his clenched his jaw, trying to stop the lump building in his throat, “I love her, Steve, and... and I’m-- I’m afraid it’s the reason they’re doing this to her.”
The doors began to close and Steve stuck his hand out to hold them against the frame. Bucky stepped inside, pressing his lips into a thin line. It was the most he could manage. Steve only stared at him, trying to find the right words to say even if there were none. The doors tried to close again but Steve kept them open.
“We’ll bring her home, Buck,” he said again, though the hesitancy in his voice betrayed him.
“Okay,” Bucky sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from the ground. He wasn’t sure if he believed that anymore. 
The doors rang out and attempted to close a third time and Steve let his hand fall away, stepping back into the hall. There was nothing left to say.
***
Bucky didn’t know how he ended up at the door to your room, but there he was. It was quiet on the floor. With Steve and Sam still in the sub-level interrogating Jennings and Natasha spending most of her time training, the private quarters were largely unoccupied. You shared a floor with Bucky, Sam, and Wanda, though Wanda has been off in Wakanda for the last few months working with Shuri and Vision on controlling her abilities.
Bucky wondered if Stark had assigned him to this floor on purpose, with his room just a few feet away from yours. He could have thrown Bucky into a floor all his own, secluded, away from everyone else, just because he could, as some frankly reasonable punishment for what he did to Stark’s parents, though, he must have figured Bucky would have preferred that. And yet, being so close to you, running into you every morning felt almost like fate.
Slowly, he twisted the knob to your door, cool under his touch, and stepped inside. The window was open, curtains flowing softly with the breeze as it swept through the room. Chills ran up Bucky’s spine and he crossed the room to close the window. As he turned around, he spotted your workout clothes from that morning still tossed over the edge of your bed, sneakers kicked off by the bathroom, and the hanger your stealth suit lying on the floor by the door.
It was untouched, like you were never gone, like it hadn’t been forty-seven days since he last saw you.
Bucky swallowed back the bile in his throat, glancing down at his right hand as he sat on the edge of your bed. His knuckles were covered in blood, red angry marks and broken skin upon his fist.
He closed his eyes and tried to bring himself back to the first time you had helped clean the wounds on his skin. Dr. Cho was busy tending to Steve’s injuries, with Sam closely next in line, and Bucky only had superficial cuts, ones he insisted would heal overnight, but you wouldn’t accept that.
You dragged him up to your room, demanded he sit on your bed, and you grabbed the first aid kit from your nightstand. He couldn’t quite tell if you were angry or just determined with that thin little crease forming on your forehead as you worked bringing a twist to his stomach. You didn’t say a word as you disinfected the open wounds on his hand or when he hissed at the alcohol on his skin. You didn’t warn him to be careful next time because you knew it would happen again. It was his job, after all.
Soft, careful touches as you wrapped his hand in gauze, offering him a sweet smile as you told him he was good as new like you actually believed that. It was one of the memories he held onto tightest. Just the ease with which you touched him, like he wasn’t made of broken fragments, like he was something whole. It was the first time he considered that you might be right.
Bucky stood and rounded the corner of your bed, pulling out the drawer of your nightstand. Sitting on top, just as he remembered, was the first aid kit. He pulled it from the drawer and set it on the bed, popping open the lid and grabbing the supplies he would need. He did his best to clean the mess on his hand, all the while knowing that you’d have done a better job because you always handled him with the kind of care he never gave himself.
After his hand was wrapped and the sting of the alcohol was fresh on his skin, he moved to set the kit back into the drawer when something caught his attention.
Carefully, he slipped his left hand into the drawer and pulled out a single polaroid. It took him a moment to recognize where it was from, but the moment he did, the memory came flooding back.
-
Bucky always liked running; the feel of the air sweeping through his hair, the burn in his lungs, the sore ache of his legs. It let him focus on something other than the thoughts rummaging in his mind. It gave him an opportunity to just... be.
You were on his left, a slight pant in your breath, and Bucky was cautious to take note of when it sounded like you were struggling to hold the pace for his sake and he’d slow down enough that you wouldn’t notice and your breaths came in a little easier. Then, he’d speed up when he thought you were ready again.
Seven miles around the property; the path twisting through the back field where the recruits did their field training, behind the lake, and through a section of the forest which helped to seclude the compound. It was a beautiful view, if Bucky was being honest. Upstate New York in the fall just as the leaves were turning colors, some crunching under his sneakers as he ran. The air was crisp in his lungs, cool on his skin.
It had been a while since he felt so relaxed. You had a habit of bringing that out in him. It had become part of his routine, getting up in the morning and throwing on shorts and a crew neck, tying his sneakers at the kitchen table as he waited for you to emerge from your room; that genuine look of surprise that always seemed to morph into something like relief as you spotted him.
Even after he warmed up a little, letting himself find his voice around you and reluctantly agreeing to follow you into the middle of Brooklyn, he still found himself incredibly nervous. It was foreign for him to feel such a way, like a heat could form in his cheeks if you asked him the right question and the sweat that lined in his right hand as you stood close to him without thinking much of it.
You were starting to breath too hard beside him, face burning red and sweat dripping down from your hairline, and Bucky slowly pulled to a stop. There was only a half mile back to the main building from here, and he figured you could use a cool down to stretch your muscles anyway.
You paused, leaning over and resting your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath. You stole a quick glance up at Bucky, who was only watching you carefully. His heartrate was hardly elevated, hair dry and hanging by his shoulders, breaths even.
“You’re insufferable. You know that?” you teased with a growing smile, wiping your forearm across your hairline and shaking the excess sweat out into the grass. “Why even bother coming on these runs with me if they clearly do nothing for you?”
“I never said they did nothing for me,” Bucky replied softly, eyes squinting from the sun as he looked back up at the compound.
These runs may not challenge him physically, but they still had purpose. It got him out of his room and dressed in the morning. It got him using his body again for something other than destruction and survival. It got him pumping the blood back into his veins and out into the fresh air, something Steve had been trying to accomplish with him unsuccessfully in the month before he met you. It got him more time with you.
These runs were something Bucky looked forward to. It had been a while since he had something like that.
You narrowed your eyes on him, a purse of your lips as you studied him for a tell you wouldn’t find. A short laugh as you shook your head and exhaled, “ok fine! Run at a mortal's pace then, super soldier.”
Bucky chuckled under his breath as you started to walk back along the path, watching as you shot him a teasing smirk over your shoulder and he jogged a few paces to catch up to you. He always felt better by your side, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.
It was a slow walk up to the back entrance, with you stretching your arms behind you until they cracked, pulling a wince out of Bucky you found to be rather hilarious. You complained about your sore muscles and teased Bucky about his unfair advantage, all while tossing him those smiles that made his stomach weak.
He pushed a few steps ahead to grab the door for you as you walked back inside, giving him a casual salute as you passed by, causing him to chuckle softly.
“So, what are your plans this morning?” you asked off-handedly, like you genuinely believed he might have something on his schedule other than secluding himself to his room. You grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen and tossed one to him over the counter. He caught it easily in his left hand.
“Super busy,” Bucky shrugged as he twisted off the cap. “Thought I’d head back into the city and walk around for a while. Maybe see if Sam wanted to meet me at one of those coffee joints with cats hanging around and buy a novelty shirt from Times Square.”
“Wow, Buck, that’s--” you started, a little taken back and surprised at his answer. Though, when Bucky tried to suppress a laugh as he took a swig from the water bottle, you pouted, putting your hands on your hips. “You’re not going to the city.”
“No, I’m not,” Bucky confirmed with a slight shake in his head. “I’m a little shocked you thought I’d go anywhere with birdbrain, let alone back into the city.”
“Oh, it’s not entirely unrealistic! You had a good time when we went to Brooklyn last month, didn’t you?”
Bucky nodded, “yeah, but I was with you, wasn’t I? Different situation entirely.”
“Is it?” you asked curiously, the teasing nature absent from your voice and Bucky realized the implications of what he said. You were watching him too carefully, with a hopefulness behind your eyes that caught Bucky entirely off guard.
“Oh, well, I meant that, um,” Bucky stumbled over his words, his throat suddenly feeling dry, “I just... I don’t know... I’m more comfortable around you. I guess.”
Your lips slowly curved into the widest smile Bucky had ever seen, which was a feat within itself knowing you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, think so,” Bucky replied with a nervous laugh and you punched the air like you had just crossed the finish line of a marathon. The anxiety faded away as he watched you grin at him, like you had been hoping for this all along. He let himself laugh.
“Good! Well that means you’re free then,” you quipped, rushing from behind the counter and grabbing a hold of the wrist on his left hand, like it wasn’t made of metal, like it wasn’t something lethal, and tugged him towards your room. “Come on! I’ve got something I wanna show you.”
Bucky couldn’t help the smile pressing up on his cheeks as he followed you down the hall, your delicate fingers still wrapped around metal. He found himself fixated on it, so perplexed how you could touch this piece of him so casually, like it wasn’t something to fear, something to be disgusted by.
You pushed open the door to your room and shoved him teasingly to sit on the flood at the end of your bed. He watched as you raced around the room, grabbing a few books off the shelves and your laptop from the desk. You took a seat next to him, folding your legs under you and your shoulder brushed his.
“Prepare to get educated, Barnes.”
You showed him a few of the books he recognized from the trip to Brooklyn, ones you purchased after you had insisted he catch up on what he had missed. After careful consideration, you placed two of the five books on his lap, explaining the synopses and instructed him to pick one. He had just finished To Kill a Mockingbird, his first choice on the list you gave him. Of the two you laid out for him, he chose Fahrenheit 451. You, of course, got a kick out of that because it was Steve’s favorite on the list you had provided when you first met him as well.
Bucky couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the thought of anyone else sharing these kinds of moments with you, curled up one the floor by your bed, rustling through old books, as you typed away on your laptop. Though, with the way you were stealing glances at him every few minutes, lip caught between your teeth as you typed away, it was easy to forget about anything but you and this moment.  
"What are you doing?” Bucky asked as he glanced over the back cover of the book, flipping through the worn pages.
“Making you a playlist,” you replied, eyes still glued to your screen as you clicked and dragged songs over into a folder on the left side. “Your education doesn’t stop with books, Bucky! I’ve got a whole plan here. Music. Movies. Television. Food. Theater. Tourist traps.”
“Of course,” Bucky laughed, the very idea of spending more time with you like this making his stomach pleasantly weak. You grinned back at him and set the laptop in the space between you, clicking play on the first song of the playlist. Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You’re done already?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” you shrugged and Bucky’s lips curved up into a smile, wondering when you had decided to put the first song on the list and what moments made you think of him, what melodies or lyrics reminded you of him enough to put them together in a playlist. You shoved his shoulder, pointing to the laptop. “Listen!”
Bucky pressed his lips together, nodding as he stilled himself. The soft strum of the guitar filled the room, accompanied by what sounded like an old grainy texture he’d find on tracks from his time, only this sounded more like waves coming in along a beach. Then, a man’s voice came through the static and the acoustic strumming, soft, comforting, joined by the delicate pulsing rhythm of a tambourine.
‘Been traveling these wide roads for so long.
My heart’s been far from you
Ten-thousand miles gone’
Bucky sat back against the frame of your bed, letting the soft tones of the music relax in his muscles and carry away the thoughts in his head. He listened as the harmonies sang over the chorus, the familiar sound, the new sound, the somewhere in between, until it eventually slowed and a woman’s voice came through, lulling Bucky into a calm he could only drop his guard to find next to you.
The voices began to fade and tambourine chimed one last time, and you reached out and pressed pause before the next song could play, carefully looking to him for his reaction. Bucky didn’t know how you had come to learn him so well in the few months since he met you, how you had managed to get him to open up, even if in small careful steps, how you could possibly find a song that reminded him so much of his youth but ushered in a new era at the same time.
It was perfect. It was his new favorite song. He wanted to hear it twenty times over as long as you’d sit next to him.
“Do you like it?” you asked nervously, glancing back at the screen. “There’s others, too. I just thought, maybe you’d--”
“Play again, will ya?” Bucky interjected, smiling at you softly, enough for you to return it eagerly as a relief relaxed over your features. You nodded and restarted the song. The strum of the guitar filled the room again.
Bucky didn’t even notice you pull a camera from under your bed as he listened to the calming melodies of the song. You scooted an inch or so closer to him, enough that your hip touched his and Bucky sucked in a careful breath. You held the camera out at the end of your arm, lens facing you.
“Smile, Buck,” you requested, nodding to the camera when he shot you a confused look.
Bucky watched as you turned back to the camera, smiling as you leaned your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t imagine how easily it was for you to be so close to him, to want to be, after all that he’d done. You treated him with a kindness he never thought he’d see again. He decided he’d do just about anything you asked of him.
So, he took a deep breath, turning to the lens and allowing the smallest of smiles to curve on the edges of his lips, his head tilting until it rested on the crown of your head, soft waves under the subtle of his jaw.
The flash clicked and a square film printed out from the bottom of the camera. You pulled it out carefully and blew it on delicately. It was dark and Bucky could hardly tell if he was even in the image or not.
“It’ll develop, don’t worry,” you said with a wink. “In the meantime, I’ve got more songs for you. Get ready to be blown away.”
Bucky chuckled, settling in for the rest of the day if you wanted, resting his back on your bed and playing with the fibers of the carpet under his palm. Your thigh was still pressed up to his and you made no effort to move away. Bucky found he didn’t mind at all.
-
Three years later and you kept it all this time.
Bucky held the polaroid in his hand, gripped so tightly between his fingers it startled to crinkle in the corner. The curve of your smile, the lines by your eyes as you grinned for the camera, curling up against him. An innocence in his own eyes he hardly even recognized.
You changed him, pulled him from the darkness, helped him find his own footing to step into the light.
Bucky pressed the photo to his chest, tears welling in his eyes as a lump choked in the back of his throat. He didn't know if he could survive without you, without his light.
He didn’t know if he wanted to.
-------
If you didn’t notice up at the top, I’ve made an official playlist for this series! It has the one in the memory, some songs that will pop up later, plus just some stuff that inspired me as I wrote and songs that just complete the vibe of this fic. Check it out if you’re interested! 💕I am also working on one for The Witness and an upcoming mini series 🌸
feedback is always appreciated! 💖
tags 👟@sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @jillybeaner13 / @chubby-dumplin / @searchingforbucky / @alohafromhell1 / @tabalugax / @shesalatesh / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @aliensbecameourstyle / @bucksgoat / @serpensortiaaa / @trash-rats-unite / @hungry-pasta / @nervosaa / @lbuck121/ @get0verit / @obama-mia / @imsoft-barnes / @this-broken-band-girl / @michelehansel / @itz-kira / @forever157 / @grey-water-colors / @sebastianstan-posts / @sarcastic-and-cool / @no-clue-whats-happenin / @capsgrl / @happyeyesandsunshine / @slithredn / @13sunken-ships13
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waokevale · 5 years ago
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Under Control - Chapter 6
TW: Mind abuse, mention of getting hurt, Greed.
Very disgusted with his face but Deceit decided to ignore it as he tried to put the choker on.
When he finally did put it on, he looked at himself in the mirror again, wearing the emblem.
-"Not bad, actually...?" He smiled slightly admiring the crystal before sudden indescriptable pain came through his whole body followed by a  scream that came soon after.
He felt as his mind was leaving his body which made him stress out even more.
As if something was taking control over him.
He knew he shouldn't trust that thing
He knew he shouldn't have trusted 'him'
Yet he did...
And now....
It was too late..
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Suddenly Deceit woke up.
His body was chilly as his breath was more stiff and heavy
It was all dark and blurry .
The place he was in was blank... empty...
Like an abyss.
A little foggy clouds could only be seen, except the giant, unknown grey space that the deceitful side was in.
When his vision got more clearer and his head stopped spinning, he looked closely at the space around him
as he tried to figure out where he  actually was and what happened to him.
-'What is this place?'
-Where am I?'
He thought as an anxious feeling started to rise up inside of him.
He looked in every direction to find a clue, any little one would seem good enough at this point, so he tried to focus more.
Nothing....
There was nothing...
Until...
Everything came all back together, lining up like the pieces of a puzzle.
He was really miserable today, especially after Thomas's video.
He went back to the dark side of the mindscape and then into his room.
There he saw a choker with an orange gem and a note from someone...
After a long debate with himself he decided to try it on.
And then...
He lost control..
-"Oh no...."
Now he was beggining to stress out even more than before, thinking about what could've happen during his abscense.
Especially if he was the one who took over Deceit's body.
-"I need to get out of here!" He then yelled loudly enough to spread an echo around the whole abyss he was in, hoping that someone would hear him.
After his voice tuned down a little bit there could be heard a giggle which didn't put him at ease much either.
It did the complete opposite of that actually..
He just wanted to gain his control back....
He didn't want this...
He wanted to leave.
Suddenly the giggle he just heard became a laughter that in bare seconds turned maniacal as the snake flinched in fear, not knowing where the creepy voice was coming from.
He just stood there, frozen in fear.
Until a giant screen appeared right in front of him.
There on the screen could be seen a shadow or a silhuette of another side, but the said side was surrounded by darkness around them, making it harder for Deceit to figure out who it was until the side on the screen opened their eyes.
Revealing two giant, bright orange gloving dots looking straight at him.
Now Deceit finally realized who it was.
He was pretty sure of that before.
He just didn't want to believe it.
It really was him.
The same side he didn't want to see the most.
The side that he feared so much..
The worst one out of them all.
Greed.
He was the only side that actually didn't have had a name.
Not because he couldn't have one.
He just didn't want to, as he thought, that names were ridiculous so he stuck to his title.
Yet now Deceit was filled with anger, not only fear at the time.
He was angry, mostly at himself for falling right into the trap the said before side put for him.
But he was also scared....Very, very scared.
He knew that the orange side was capable of doing really bad things.
And in his body.....He could.....
No, no, no.....
-"GREED?? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" He then yelled as tears started welling up in his eyes.
-"That is me, my dear friend~" The so called Greed said.
-"W-why?! Why did you do this to me?! What do you want from me?!" Deceit shouted, ignoring the nickname the orange side gave him.
-"Ah you see, I've seen you go to light sides.
I've seen how hurt you were by them!
And since I was so pitiful of you, I wanted to help sort some things out for you~"
Deceit shot him a glare.
-"Drop the act.
Don't you lie to my face, you know who I am.
I can easily tell that you're lying."
-"Pfff, ah! Right! I would've forgot about that~
You caught me.
I don't really care about you, you know that?
In fact I only wanted to get revenge on the others, since your body has a lot of unuesed potential."
Now the angry expression on the lying trait's face changed again into a shocked one.
-"W-w-what do you mean by that? W-what are you t-trying to do..?"
-"Ah, nothing really.
.......Except... Maybe hurt a bit your "little baby" for example."
Deceit's eyes widened in fear for the other.
He couldn't take it.
He couldn't let this happen.
Not to him.
Not in the body in which he promised he'd never hurt him..
-"N-n-n-o! Don't hurt him! I-I-I beg you! Please! Don't! I'll do anything!"
-"Why do you even care about him?
He left you.
He betrayed you.
And yet....You still love him?
You're really fucked up, Ethan~"
-"I may be fucked up...But that's how loving someone is.
It's fucked up....
But I don't care about that.
I-I'm not going to let you hurt my baby....
...Please... P-please.
Just-Just D-Don't hurt him....P-p-please..."
Deceit said while begging now and sobbing softly.
-"Awwww Dee, you're just so naive.
I already have your body and I don't really need anything else from you.
You don't have anything else to offer me and I don't need your weak, depressed and melancholic personality."
-"W-w-why? Why are you like this? What did I ever do to you....?"
-"Ah really nothing much, but as a dark side you're just......useless.
You could be so powerful! You could even rule over the mind palace if you wanted to!
Yet....You wasted your powers just like that.
And you also influence Remus on this as well.
No wonder why Virgil has left you for the others."
The orange side simply said as Ethan's eyes began to hurt now from the ammount of tears he had spilled.
-"S-s-sssstop...." He pleaded.
-"Oh did I forgot to mention your boyfriend?
Don't worry I'll make sure you're not going to see him any time soon.
Or ever at this point."
-"W-w-what a-are y-you talking a-a-about...?
I....I don't have a-a-a b-boyfriend.
-"Oh right, I forgot again...
You would've have had if you ever got the chance.
But you can't....
Yet...
Don't you even know who I'm talking about?
Your giant crush! Remus's soulmate and other half. The ruler of the light side of the imagination.
Someone who's way out of your league.
Got any clue now..?"
-"R-R-Roman......." Deceit whispered in horror.
-"That's right. And I know just the perfect way to make his fall...."
Something finally clicked in the deceitful side.
Now the other has crossed the line.
He couldn't take it anymore.
He couldn't listen to these awful things that Greed has said.
No more.
He couldn't listen anymore to what the other was trying to do to them...
-"No. No, No! NO! DON'T YOU DARE HURT ANY OF THEM! THEY DON'T DESERVE THIS! LEAVE MY BODY ALONE! JUST LET ME OUT!!!!!!"
He then started shouting and banging on the screen mercilessly, trying to do something, trying to break it.
Or at least crack it at this point.
Maybe this was it?
Maybe there is a way to gain his control back?
Just for a little while?
He had to.
He had to try..
He must try...
-"LET ME OUT! JUST LET ME OUT! Let me out! Please! Just let me out! (...)"
He kept yelling and attempting to break the screen as the side on the other end just laughed at him.
-"You're pathetic, Deceit. Do you really think that this will work? Or that I'll actually let you out?
You can't do anything.
Face it.
You're just useless."
Greed spat out loud and dissapeared from the screen as the other kept banging and yelling still, not caring if his hands began to bruise and cut and hurt, or that his throat was now dry and in pain.
He just wanted out.
He wanted to warn the others.
He didn't want them to fall for Greed's trickery.
He just wanted to save them...
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asoftervirge · 4 years ago
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Of “Love” & Murder - (2/13)
CHAPTER TITLE: Love (Unrequited or Not) Is Sweeter Than All the Candies Patton Could Make
RATING: PG (will change)
PAIRINGS: P. Sanders/V. Sanders (main/one-sided); R. Sanders/V. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/L. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/D. Sanders (former); Remy/E. Picani (side); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)
CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINKS: Baking, Food Mentions, Flirting, Snarky Comments/Banter, Puns, Kissing
CHAPTER SUMMARY:  Patton delivers Virgil’s chocolates and gets a special treat in return.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Friendly remind that a chapter will be posted every day until Halloween, hence as to why there’s 13 of them. lol I’m busy with work and AO3 isn’t working properly on my laptop so I may be doubling down on chapters. Like with any other fic that I post, please heed the warnings at the top! With that said, please enjoy!  Also, I apologize for the first couple chapters not being interesting, but I promise it gets better next chapter! xx Virge
AO3 || Buy me a Ko-Fi!
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Patton felt gay panic overwhelming him to the point that he may faint.
He spent countless hours after he closed up shop, making batches after batches of chocolates, trying to create the perfect array of thirty-two that would satisfy Virgil.
Virgil Nyx. The name sounded so…unique in his mind’s eye. It was different, but Patton liked that it was different. Yet there was also something…dark and strange about it; something that should make the confectioner fearful, but he wasn’t. It seemed cliché and he knew it, but he had become drawn to him from the moment they met.
He looked over the batches that he already made, all cooling on various racks and baking sheets: squares and other various shapes of chocolate, barks and clusters, truffles and cordials; and all of them made with dark chocolate. He didn’t know if Virgil really liked things incredibly bitter (although the moan he let out suggested otherwise), so he put some bittersweet in there to counterbalance it. As a bonus, he even put in a bit of espresso powder because Virgil stated it was his favorite.
When he believed he had a perfect set, he began to decorate them. Glazes, icings and sugars all scattered about in the air, dusting his face, hair, and fingers.
Then, when everything was done up all nice and pretty— like a box of chocolates should be— Patton placed them in the gift box. Most of the ones he sent out were either golden or white, but he also had some of varying colors. For Virgil, he managed to find a black one that was perfect. He places the chocolates in their respective places in the tin before closing the lid. Finally, he pulled out a collection of ribbons that are used for the finishing touches. He looks through the assortment of rainbow spools before pulling out a dark violet one. He cut a large length of it before wrapping it around the box and tying it in a bow.
Patton leaned back and observed his craftsmanship with a grin.
Virgil was going to love this, he knows he will!
It was a cold, foggy Sunday night as Patton drove to Virgil’s house. The box of chocolates were nestled comfortably in a cooler sitting in the passenger seat of his car. A gentle downpour of rain pitter-pattered against the glass, becoming a soothing presence amidst the silence.
Neon signs for bars and hotspots light up the cloudy sky; the occasional persons walking about; homeless slouched on curbs with paper bags in hand; and stray cats appearing from alleyways all flew past him along the way, showing him a darker, grittier version of his city.
Slowly, the city transformed into a giant forest that surrounded his car. The air grew colder and the rain came down harder. The smooth asphalt roads turned to bumpy gravel, causing Patton to bounce as he drove. After a few miles, the forest disappeared and the confectioner was greeted with a sight that truly astounded him.
The manor looked to be inspired by either the Victorian or Queen Anne style of architecture. It was at least two or three stories high with incredibly gorgeous details to it: complex rooflines, a tower in the left corner with a steep roof, gables and bays, a richly textured surface of patterned shingles, and applied ornamentations. For Patton, the most notable features were the single-story wrap-around porch, the black balustrades, the lavishly decorated spindle work, and Eastlake ornamentations.
Patton looked up at the manor, then down at the piece of paper he pulled out of his pocket, staring at the address written on it.
613 Rue Morgue.
It— It was the right address, judging by the silver numbers beside the door, yet Patton couldn’t believe someone like Virgil would live here!
He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the cooler to grab the chocolates, the box feeling cold under his fingertips. Laying the box on his lap, he reaches over and retrieves his umbrella from the driver’s side pocket— a pastel blue one with white polka dots— before exiting the car. He walks up the wooden porch steps and rang the doorbell (knocking to the tune of ‘shave and a haircut’ for good measure) before standing back and waiting.
Exactly thirteen minutes later, Patton stood up straighter when the door finally opened. He nearly dropped the box when he saw Virgil’s appearance.
The stormy grey eyes and faded purple fringe looked the same, but it was his clothing that changed. Instead of a purple turtleneck, it was a button-up (with the top buttons and cuffs undone), and his leather pants were that of fancy dress ones. His boots were gone and he was padding around in thick, black wooly socks.
“Patton,” His deep, low voice snapped him out of his gay lovestruck moment. “As fond— and slightly disturbed— as I am by your flattering— and totally not creepy— fawning over me…I would like to eat personalized chocolates and get to know my deliveryman.”
Said deliveryman squeaked in surprise, shaking his head and blushing madly. His panicked and embarrassed eyes met ones that held confusion, awkwardness, and amusement.
“I-‘m— I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to stare like that!”
Virgil waved a passive, nonchalant hand. “Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re just lucky that you weren’t a stranger, because if you were, I would’ve glared at you until you fell dead.”
The confectioner’s eyes grew wide and he gulped. Was…Was he supposed to take that seriously?
“Aww, relax,” Virgil snorts, the corner of his lip twitching upward. “I was joking…or was I?”
“I don’t know…are you?”
“Yeah, I am. So chill out, Patton."
Patton nodded, slightly curling up in himself at how gullible he was for falling prey to a joke like that. (Though a part of himself felt…relieved? And he didn’t really know why  he did so). He suddenly remembered the reason as to why he came here in the first place.
“This house is so incredible!” He exclaims, looking up at the giant manor. “I didn’t interrupt a fancy party or something, did I?”
“Nope. Just me.”
“Have you always lived here?”
Virgil shrugged casually. “Yeah…been living here for a good while now. Got this place from…a friend of mine, I guess you can say.”
Patton failed to recognize the guarded tone in his voice. “H-Here!” The confectioner shoved the box into Virgil’s arms. “I-I made these for you!”
Blinking, Virgil raised a brow at him. “Did you forget that I made an order, or did you have a different reason for coming to see me?” he asked in a semi-teasing way. He looked down at the box handed to him (or shoved really). Black box with a purple ribbon, just as he ordered. He opens it and sees all thirty-two beautifully decorated pieces of chocolate. “Wow. These looks good. What all are they?”
A proud smile appeared on the confectioner’s face. the wealthy man liked the box; so far so good! He started listing them all, “I put four pieces of eight in there. There are cherry cordials, chocolate squares, clusters with almonds, squares filled with a cinnamon-infused ganache, two kinds of truffles also filled with ganache, rounds made with coffee, and—” He blushed a little and mumbled, “Ch-Chocolate hearts.”
Virgil chuckled. “So it’s basically chocolate, coffee, and whatever ganache is.”
“It’s like thickened chocolate that’s used as a glaze, sauce, or filling,” Patton explains. “It’s great for cakes and treats like this, which is why it’s my favorite! All the chocolate is dark, and I even added some espresso to them!”
“My favorites,” The wealthy man gave him a faint smile, causing Patton to be a lovestruck gay once more. “Thanks.” Patton mumbles out something as he took out the one that had cinnamon-infused ganache inside and popped it into his mouth. He moaned, “Damn. Won’t lie, that’s some real good chocolate you’ve made.”
“Thank you very much!” Patton beamed happily, bouncing up and down on his heels. “That’s a compliment if I ever heard one, in fact, it makes me cocoa for more!”
A huffed groan. “Oh boy. Chocolate puns,” Virgil rolled his eyes. Though he couldn’t but participate in a little bit of joking himself. “Are you trying to be as smooth as your chocolates are? Because you’re not doing a very good job.”
Patton gasped. If his eyes could, they’d be sparkling like a cartoon character’s. “Now there’s no need to be bittersweet about making puns, Virgil!”
My whole aesthetic is about being sarcastic, edgy, and bittersweet, is what Virgil wanted to say, but he didn’t out of not wanting to scare the confectioner away so soon. “Someone’s gotta balance out how sugary you are.”
“Well, if you mousse-t insist!”
Another huffed groan, then Virgil popped a cherry cordial in his mouth. Dark chocolate and cherries were always considered a classic combination, like his depression and anxiety. What?
“I guess I should pay you for delivering me these?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary!” Patton insisted. “Consider it a gift! From me to you!”
Virgil frowned a bit. Then an idea came to mind, causing him to smirk coyly. “You sure? Cause I think I know of a good payment I could give you.”
Patton titled his head in confusion, but that quickly changed when he felt Virgil’s lips press against his own. They were crazy chapped and a little cold, but they slotted perfectly against his own. Following what his heart wanted— because that’s what he does— he happily kissed back, tasting bitter chocolate and espresso.
It only lasted a few seconds (six to be exact, but what was Patton counting), but it felt like an eternity for the confectioner. Suddenly, and very sadly, he felt Virgil pulling away. He opened his eyes (which he didn’t know he closed in the first place) and subconsciously licked his lips, a mad blush appearing on his face.
Virgil hummed and licked his own lips. He pulled out a third piece, this time, a dark chocolate heart. He held it to his bottom lip, not biting into it just yet.
The confectioner gulped. “C-Can I make a confection?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Can you?”
“I-I know it seems silly, but…” He squeezed the handle of his umbrella tightly. “I really, really like you!”
“…What a coincidence,” Virgil smirked wider as he finally bit into the chocolate heart. “I just so happen to like you too.”
Patton felt an excited smile spread itself across his face. Butterflies flew all about his stomach and his heart grew more than three sizes. He couldn’t help but jump a little in excitement.
Virgil moved to the side of the door, giving Patton the faintest glimpse of the inside of his mansion. He nods his head towards the foyer. “So you, uh, wanna come inside?” He asked, the rest of the heart hanging from his mouth. “I could make some coffee or tea, maybe even some hot chocolate if you’re into that instead?”
Despite him wanting to say yes— and he really wanted to— Patton politely shook his head. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he declined. “As much as I want to, I can’t. I have to clean up my store, and since I’ll be staying there a bit longer, I can get everything prepared for tomorrow’s opening.”
This statement caused Virgil to frown. So…it appears as though this little mousey wants to play chase. Well unfortunately for him, this black cat hasn’t lost a chase before, not now or ever; and he certainly won’t lose this one, especially to a cute and gullible person like Patton Hart.
Swallowing the rest of the chocolate, he plastered on a smile that didn’t hide his passive-aggressiveness. “Ah. Gotcha.” He pointed a finger-gun at him. (Though, again like a cat, he was mentally throwing a hissy). “It’s too bad you can’t stay longer,” he closed the box and turned away from Patton. “Really would’ve liked to have known you more…”
“Would you mind if I came back again soon?” Patton asked. He twirled the umbrella in his hands, little droplets of rain flying about. Virgil flinched as some got on his face. “Sorry. I could even bring you another gift box if you want!”
And thus, the cat has gotten the mouse.
“You’d visit again?” Virgil asked with a cheeky grin. “And you bring me more chocolates?” He raised a brow at him. “You do this with all your clients, Mr. Hart?”
“Of course I do!” Patton exclaimed. “And I do! I-I mean, I do treat my clients specially, but not as specially as you— especially since I kinda have a crush on you and—”
“Relax, Patton. Seriously.” Virgil huffed with a slight eye roll. “It’s fine if you wanna visit again, in fact, I want it too. Especially since, y’know, we got a thing for each other.” He winked at him.
Patton blushed and nodded. My goodness gracious Virgil was making him melt faster than chocolate on a double boiler. He twirled his umbrella again. “I-I suppose I should be making the long way home now.” Patton smiled sadly at him. “It was nice to see you again, Virgil! And thank you again for coming into my shop!”
“You’re welcome, Patton.” As the confectioner turned and was about to walk down the porch steps, Virgil had one more trick up his sleeves. “Hang on.” Just as Patton turned back again, he pulled him in for another kiss.
Their lips met having another reunion resulted in that same chocolate and coffee aftertaste from before. The confectioner’s breath hitched and a madder blush reddened his cheeks as Virgil licked his bottom lip, resulting in him opened his mouth slightly.
Suddenly, as quickly as it started, it was broken. Virgil chuckled as he heard Patton let out the quietest, puppy-like whine that he found absolutely precious. He opened his hazy grey eyes to look at darkened blue ones, the corner of his lip tugging upward. “Have a good night, Patton.”
“Y-You too…”
With one last wink, Virgil turned and walked back inside. The heavy, wooden door closing with a gentle click.
For the longest time, Patton stood there gazing at the door, almost like it would morph back into the dark and mysterious young man. What snapped him out of his trance was a loud crack of thunder.
Quickly, he rushed back to his car, but didn’t immediately drive off. He stayed parked for another long while, sitting in the front seat with the harsh rain pounding against the glass.
Finally, his face fell into his hands and he squealed. Louder and much more giddy-sounding than he did when he got his puppy (and he really loved his puppy).
He was definitely in love with Virgil Nyx.
16 notes · View notes
sinner-as-saint · 5 years ago
Text
Home With You
Mob! Seb AU
Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7
 Part 8.
 Run-through: After having gone through hell, the mob boss finally finds his solace.
 Themes: angst, fluff, mentions of death, smut, mentions of violence, gore scenes and death
 ALL TAG LISTS ARE OPEN. 
A/N: Here we go, one last time…
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  He was numb, and regretted with all his heart that he wasn’t here when you woke up. 
 Sebastian didn’t know how to react to the fact that you sat on the bed, surrounded by doctors, with a faint smile on your face as they filled you in with what happened to you and your recovery from here on.
 He felt every emotion at the same time, like a giant wave crashing down upon him. He was relieved, yet scared. He felt as though the entire world around him had come to a halt, and the only thing he could focus on was the little nod you gave the doctors as they congratulated you on waking up and fighting through it all.
They were saying something along the lines of it being a miracle and Sebastian could barely hear them.
Within a few seconds, you spotted him by the door, and your smile magnified. The doctors turned to him as well, and they had reassuring smiles on their faces.
There were three of them, two of who walked out as soon as he walked in. The one who stayed, along with the nurse, was checking the monitors and writing down stuff.
Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. One second he was by the door, and the next he was approaching you; cautiously.
He was afraid that this was another one of his torturous dreams, and that he would wake up and find that you were still lying on the bed – unmoving.
Only, it wasn’t.
 You extended your weak arm towards him and he reluctantly took it. Once he held your hand, he could no longer stop the tears.
They flowed uncontrollably and silently down his face.
 He tightened his grip around your knuckles, as if testing if you were real or just a fragment of his imagination.
And he soon found out that you were very real.
 He stared at your face, and your bright smile and he couldn’t believe his eyes. After so many days, you had finally woken up. You were here, with him. You didn’t leave him like everyone said you most likely would.
Without saying a word, he sat on the edge of the bed. Just like he normally would, the only difference was that now; you were awake.
 He watched how your other hand, which still had the IV attached to it, reached out and gently wiped away his tears.
Your hand wasn’t cold anymore. And he leaned into your touch and thanked God quietly as he felt the warmth of your hand against his face.
You gently cradled his face in your hand as you inched closer to him.
 “You badly need a trim,” you whispered, chuckling faintly as you ran your fingers through his now long hair. Despite your head still being a little foggy, you could tell that he hadn’t been taking care of himself.
 He closed his eyes and allowed his tears to fall. The mob boss didn’t care who saw him crying, you were back now, and that’s all he cared about.
 He sniffled and brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles and thanking God countless times.
 “You were gone for three weeks, and that’s the first thing you tell me when you wake up?” he asked, fresh tears forming along his water line.
His eyes were red, caused by the many sleepless nights he had spent alongside you – worrying about your well-being.
His ocean blue eyes looked into yours, and all your pain was forgotten.
 You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, his beard tickled your skin as you did. He sighed and closed his eyes again.
“There’s so much I need to tell you. So much happened, while you weren’t here, and I-,”
You cut him off.
 “I was here, Seb. I heard you, every day. I heard everything you told me. About Chris, and Connor and… Liana. I know you got me flowers all the time, and told me that I was rude and that I should at least say ‘thank you’. I’m sorry, I couldn’t say it then, but I really liked it. I’m sure the flowers were pretty,”
He chuckled while you spoke, softly.
 “I heard you as you complained about your work, and I even heard you snoring at night. I heard everything, Seb. I- I just couldn’t find my way back to you. I wanna go home now, with you,” you placed your head on his broad shoulder and he inched closer to circle his arms around you carefully.
You spoke slower than usual.
His ran his hand up and down your back lazily.
 “Don’t ever leave me again, promise me,” he asked, kissing the top of your head.
 “I won’t. I promise,” you whispered in the crook of his neck. The warmth of your breath ignited a spark inside him, and he was happier than ever.
 When he felt you tightening your grip around his torso, his world suddenly seemed brighter. He felt as though he had been trapped in a dark room all this time, and now, out of nowhere someone flipped the switch and granted him the light he needed, and craved so much.
With you awake, responsive and so alive in his arms; the mob boss felt stronger. He felt complete. You were here now, everything made much more sense.
 ---
 The doctors suggested that you spend a couple more days, under observation, at the hospital. You were weak, and your body was stiff and you needed to get over the shock before they could allow you to go home.
For the following 3-4 days, Sebastian was the happiest he had ever been. His girl was back, and he gets to bring her home after so many days.
 He had people clean the house, made sure everything was in order. He indeed got the trim he so badly needed, then proceeded to come and show you his new hair. It was still longer than before, but it suited him. A lot actually.
You laughed and asked him to do a spin and show it off better. He, very grumpily, did. And made you swear not to ever mention it again, to anyone – not even Chris.
  ---
 By the third day, you were feeling much better. Sebastian helped you walk around; to get you used to moving your limbs which had been resting still for so many days.
And he was extremely not cooperative when the nurses told him that he wasn’t allowed to be in room while they gave you a sponge bath.
You had to suppress your laughter while you watched a grown man in a dark suit argue with two middle aged woman about how he should be allowed to make sure ‘everything was okay’ and how he should not have to leave the room because you were girlfriend.
 After he reluctantly left, the women told you that you were very lucky that he loved you that much. You smiled and told them you were very grateful for having him in your life.  
After all, he was all you had. He was your everything too.
 ---
Sebastian was ecstatic when the doctors finally told him that he could bring you home. You had never seen that big of a smile on his face before.
The doctors told him it would take some time for you to figure everything out, and get back to how things initially were.
He understood, and promised that he would take things slow.
  In the ride back home, he would stop asking if you were fine, comfortable or if you needed anything. It felt like he was dealing with a child.
 “I’m okay, babe, don’t worry,” you reassured him and watched how his ears got red, and so did the apples of his cheeks.
His entire face flushed.
 You chuckled, holding his hand firmly as it was lazily placed on your lap.
 “I just- I want to make sure everything’s alright. With you, with us,” he spoke and brought your intertwined hands to his lips and kissed the back of your hand.
There was a white patch on it, under which was the wound caused by the IV.
 “We’re alright, Seb. We’re fine, we’ll be okay. Don’t worry so much,”
 He smiled at your words and proceeded to tell you how happy he was that you were going back home with him.
He looked like a little kid; excited as if he was bringing home his best friend.
 Truth is, he was.
   ---
Days went on.
And you were happily back on track. You had adjusted pretty quickly to everything, and you used your social media to catch up on everything you missed.
 Sebastian was of great help, of course, the man barely left your side. He made sure you ate properly, and David came by often and helped with your physiotherapy, to help your stiff joints.
You were getting better and better, and Sebastian was happier than anyone to hear about your progress.
  As much as he could, Sebastian avoided talking about Connor and Liana, but somehow, you managed to bring it up once.
You asked about them, but he still refused to tell you about the horrifying details.
 “They’re gone, okay? You don’t have to worry about them, baby, just focus on getting better, I-,”
 You sighed.
 “I am better, Seb, it’s been two weeks. I’m fine. I just want to know what you did to them, it’s r-,”
 “Killed them, threw their bodies in lakes, no big deal,” he cut you off and answered nonchalantly.
 Surprisingly, you didn’t react.
It did hurt to hear that the man you once thought as being your father, was now at the bottom of some lake. Dead. Alone. Left there without a proper funeral.
And Liana, the one you once considered to be a close friend. She was also dead and lying at the bottom of a lake somewhere. Not cared for.
It hurt for a moment, you were human after all, and unlike Sebastian; you weren’t used to this. But once the recollection of what they did to you settled in, what they did to Sebastian and to your real parents – a little voice in your head whispered that they probably deserved what fate had in store for them.
 You just nodded. At Sebastian, and at your conscience.
 Well, at least they were gone for good.
  ---
 You noticed that Sebastian was still being very careful around you. He held you like you were the most brittle thing in the world, or that he was scared he would break you.
Right now, he assisted you as you got out of the shower, wrapped in your bathrobe. He stood outside as he waited for you to step out.
 “God Y/N, you took so long in there. I thought you fell or something,” his voice showed his worry.
You had barely stepped out of the shower completely that he began questioning you.
 You laughed and shook your head.
 “I’m not made of glass, Seb. I’m fine, you need to stop worrying so much, really,” you spoke as you got your hair out of the twisted towel.
 Your wet locks fell down your back and Sebastian walked up to you and wrapped his hands around you. He kissed the side of your face and looked at you through the mirror in front of which you were standing.
 “Don’t ever leave me,” he spoke, his voice small and gentle. You noticed that he said that quite a lot these days. He wrap his arms around you at different times during the day and would whisper the exact same words, all the time.
You turned around in his arms and faced him, cupping his face in your hands as you placed your lips on his.
He immediately responded by moving his mouth with yours. His hands gripped your waist and one of them easily slipped past the slit of the robe and traced imaginary shapes on your hip bone.
You missed this.
You missed him, and his touch.
And he knew.
But he believed he would hurt you.
  Your hands travelled to his hair and you ran your fingers through it, as you walked the two of you towards the bed.
You sensed that he was holding back. He was, again, being very gentle.
 When the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed, Sebastian broke the kiss abruptly and pulled away. His face showed that he was worried, for nothing, again.
 “Baby, are you hurt? I’m so s-,”
 “Will you just shut up and fuck me? Jesus fucking Christ, Seb! I’m fine! Just-,”
 He didn’t even let you complete your sentence. Having heard what you wanted, all he wanted to do was to please you, all while being gentle of course.
 Sebastian carefully pushed you down on the bed and climbed on top of you, untying your dark grey bathrobe in the process.
He immediately dipped his head down and gave you a deep kiss, tongue slipping past your lips while his hands lazily rubbed up and down your sides.
His hands were warm against your still, somewhat, damp body.
He pulled back and saw the hunger in your eyes. Truth be told, he was eager to have you as well. He had been for so many days, but he was scared.
 His hands ran along your legs and he settled in between them, arms wrapped around your thighs as his face got dangerously close to your damp core.
You whimpered as each puff of air he breathed out fanned against your wet folds and sent shivers down your spine.
 He watched how your back immediately arched off the bed as soon as his mouth made contact with your sensitive spot.
A quiet moan escaped your lips when his tongue circled your clit; eyes closing as each stroke of his tongue felt like ecstasy.
Your hands grabbed onto the blanket under you as Sebastian’s mouth worked wonder on you. His lips rubbed against your folds relentlessly as each sound you made fueled his passion.
You bucked your hips against his mouth gently, moaning as you coated the lower half of his face with your arousal.
 Your thighs tensed as the pleasure washed over you again and again with each stroke of his tongue. It didn’t take you long to reach your release.
Soon, you gushed out all over his lips. Cursing and whimpering under his touch as he kissed his way up your body.
He very briefly took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and soon shifted his attention to the other one.
His actions got hastier as he dipped his head back into the crook of your neck again, nibbling on the skin at your throat and collar bones.
 He was just as impatient as you were.
 “Baby, tell me if I hurt you, okay?” he panted at the shell of your ear and waited until you nodded. Once you did, he lowered his sweatpants just enough to free his excited member.
You moaned as soon as you felt it; hard and firm, against your inner thigh. Sebastian chuckled.
 “Needy for me, huh?” he teased, nibbling on the spot right beneath your ear; knowing very well that it was your weak spot.
 You whined in response and he chuckled again – staring into your eyes.
He stared for a bit too long so your hand reached out and touched his face, stroking his cheek affectionately.
“What?” you asked, the look he gave you was different.
It was comforting, loving. Providing you a sense of belonging – there in his arms.
 “Nothing, I love you. I’m so in love with you, and I’m scared that– please don’t leave me. You’re my everything, Y/N,” his words immediately brought tears in your eyes.
 You leaned in and placed our lips on his, sealing the promise that you wouldn’t leave him.
 “I love you, too Seb. A lot,” you whispered against his lips and he wasted no time in pushing his length inside of you.
You sensed a warmth engulfing both you and him, wrapping around you like an invisible shelter – promising a sanctuary. One you wouldn’t find anywhere else.
 He filled you up, and watched how your face frowned in pleasure. He searched for any signs of discomfort, but when he found none; he sped up into you.
 Your hands gripped his shoulder for support as your body moved against his perfectly. Your legs circled his waist and locked behind his lower back.
Each stroke of his member allowed you to feel all of him. His scent infiltrated your mind and soon, that was all you could focus on.
His cologne, mixed with the faint scent of his shower gel. He smelt divine.
 You panted and groaned along with him each time you matched his thrust; body moving against his like a rag doll.
 He pounded into while whispering how much he loved you in your ear, telling you how lonely he felt when you weren’t here, how much he missed you and how he will keep you safe for the rest of your life.
All the sparks, the warmth, the emotions and the pleasure – all at once became too much to handle and soon, you were riding the waves of euphoria.
Walls clenching around him as you let go; moaning his name out loud and whimpering in pleasure as he grunted at how good you felt and how much he had missed this; missed you.
  -
 After going at it for quite a while, the two of you just collapsed onto the bed and snuggled under the covers – panting and sweating, but worth it.
Sebastian’s hands circled around you and he pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head and sighing in satisfaction.
Out of nowhere, he chuckled.
 “What’s so funny?” you asked, voice still hoarse from your past actions. You tangled your bare legs with his quietly winced at the soreness between your hips.
“Just thinking about the time when I had to literally chase you around the country because you wouldn’t stop fucking running away from me,” he chuckled again.
You scoffed, and smiled at the memory.
 “Well, you did threaten me by placing a gun to my face. You poured hot wax on me, Seb, who wouldn’t run away?” you giggled at the memory.
He turned to look at you in fake disbelief.
 “Oh shut up, you liked it,” he argued and kissed your forehead. Hands lazily hovering over your skin, you sighed in the comfort of his touch.
 “You remember the note you left me? I was so scared of you then,” you laughed at the memory.
 He inched closer and gave you a quick peck on the cheek.
“And now?” he asked, his baby blue eyes looking in yours.
 “And now you’re my safe place. My sanctuary. You’re my home, Seb,”
  ---
  Weeks went on and your relationship with the mob boss kept flourishing. You did have certain situations where you had your differences. Sebastian had this habit of looking out for you and sometimes, it could get suffocating.
But, just like any other couple, you faced your highs and your lows together – promising each other that no matter what happens, you’ll figure out a way to handle it.
 Sebastian, along with Chris, soon got back to his work. All was going smoothly, until one day.
 You were playing around on your phone while Sebastian made dinner. By dinner he meant wine and grilled cheese. Your favorite as you had been loving cheese lately.
 As you scrolled through your calendar, you realized that you hadn’t marked the date you last had your period.
A wave of panic washed over you. And you sat there, frozen on the kitchen stool. Your thoughts were racing and it felt like you were going to pass out any time soon.
 You told Seb you were going to use the bathroom, and on your way there, you searched the bathroom drawers for the two pregnancy tests you had kept just in case.
Your heart pounded as you took both.
 You waited for a while, allowing it time to process the sample and then you finally checked both of them.
Two lines.
You were pregnant.
 Holy shit.
  You paced around in front of the bathroom mirror, making a mental plan of how you would break the news to Sebastian. Would he be happy?
Was the timing alright?
Is it too soon to have a b-
 “Babe? You in there? What’s taking so long?” your always too worried boyfriend yelled from outside, interrupting your overthinking session.
 Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Screw the plan.
 Your heart pounded even more as you twisted the handle and opened the door. Stepping out of the bathroom, you found Sebastian standing in the middle of the room.
You knew that both of you thought about that time when you threw up blood and lied to him. But there was no lying this time.
 “Did you throw up again? Y/N, are you okay? Should I call David a-,”
You cut him off
 “I’m pregnant,” was all you said and you watched how it took him some time to process the words you spoke.
He just stared at you, lips parted as he looked like he was in shock.
 “My period’s late, and I just took two tests in there. I’m so pregnant. Seb, baby, I know it’s too soon for us to even consider having a baby and I-,”
 He cut you off by walking over to where you were standing and placed his lips on yours. All your worries went away as fast as they came when he held your face gently in his hand.
When Sebastian pulled away, you noticed how glossy his eyes had become. His blue eyes sparkled as he spoke.
 “Shh, this is perfect. You’re perfect, baby, thank you so much. Jesus, I’m gonna be a dad. Babe, I don’t know how to do anything around babies. I should hide my guns, oh God, do we need a bigger house? Baby, I-,”
Your tears fell as he went on and on, and rambled until you cut him off.
 “Hey, calm down. And don’t worry, the baby won’t be here for a while now. We’re fine, Seb, we’re gonna be okay, we have plenty of time. You’re gonna be a great dad,” you reassured him while he wiped away your tears as they kept falling.
 “That’s my baby in there?” he asked, softly as he placed his hand on your tummy. You nodded with tears in your eyes.
 Sebastian let out a little laugh as he looked down. He was a dad now. He had a baby on the way. And he was more than happy that he’ll get to share this part of his life with you.
 “When will it show?” he asked, suddenly very interested in your belly as he caressed the skin with the palm of his hand and you chuckled as you ran your hand through his now slightly longer hair.
He had been growing it since you once told him that you liked it better that way.
 “It’ll take time for the bump to show, Seb,” you laughed at how clueless he was. Then you realized than due to the nature of his work, he must have been so disconnected from the more ‘normal’ side of life.
He never got to see how beautiful it was to start a family, and watch the life you helped create grow inside someone you love.
He never had this before. But he was going to now, and you were more than happy that you got to give him that.
 Sebastian kissed you again, after which he promised to keep you and his baby safe and sound.
 ---
  And so began the life you had always dreamt of, with the one you loved the most in the world. Life with Sebastian was blissful.
It was everything you had ever dreamt of, and more. Ups and downs, moments spent with him which you would cherish until your last breath. Vacations, and arguments over your baby’s name and your sudden cravings.
And more arguments over names after you found out that you were having twins. A boy and a girl. Sebastian became more protective than ever.
 On some days, he could be the biggest baby you had ever seen. And on other days, watching him run around trying to deal with your mood swings soon became the funniest thing you had ever witnessed.
 Every night, he would wake up even with the slightest movement you made. If you woke up to use the bathroom, he’d wake up and sit on the edge of the bed and waited until you were back in bed before sleeping again.
 While asleep, he soon developed this habit of caressing your baby bump whenever he pleased.
 Sometimes, you both would just look at each other and smile. Not a word was said – but so much was shared through that one smile.
All the hard times which went by, and the ones to come; you both knew that as long as the other one was there, you’d make it through hell and back.
You knew that no matter what, you’d always find a way back to each other. Back to the safety of one another’s arms.
Back home, with each other.
  -
 A/N: I’m crying.
Thank you to each and every one who made it till the end of this series. Thank you for each like. Each comment. Each re-blog and each ask you sent. Thank you for encouraging this.
This is it. This is the last part of the ‘Back For You’ series. Thank you for loving it as much as I did. This is the first series I have ever written, but definitely not the last.
The love you all showed to this series means a lot to me. I adore you. Each one of you. Thank you again!
Love,
Your friendly, neighborhood Sinner.
-
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