#a bandage and a wide smile slapped across her face

[letuce369]

it's been sixty weeks since Tallulah saw Vienna (x)

[saphiccarma]

Title: and I'm your best friend (but your a killer)

Ship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

[A/N this was meant to be a short one shot and then I got carried away lol)

The last thing Natasha wanted to do was bother you, not after you had done so much for her and she was always disappearing under the guise of work. Despite that, she was knocking one your door with bruised knuckles and a small duffle slung over her shoulder that felt heavier than it should.

Slowly, the door opened and she was met with your face that was pinched with worry. You furrowed your brows at her, and despite the unusual time you appeared wide awake.

"Natalia," unlike all the other times Natasha had met you, your voice curt, "What's up?" Normally you would let her in without question and have her sit down while you made tea or hot cocoa.

"I need a place to stay," her mouth managed to form.

"Look-," glancing back inside with a sigh, your fingers twisted around the door handle tightly, "I don't know if I-"

"Please, I'll be gone by morning," she cut in, her body begging to rest. There was no where to else to go for her, with SHIELD down she had no base.

SHIELD had been her base, the closet thing to home - not that she ever stung around somewhere long enough to develop a home. But all her belongings, other than a few at a couple safehouses, where gone. Her apartment on base was gone. Sam's house was most likely not undisclosed information anymore and she couldn't go with Steve, he was never good at espionage.

You pressed your lips together in thought, face more taught and worried than it had ever been.

"Fine."

The door was widened slightly to let her in and Natasha stumbled into the apartment, her legs carrying her over to flop on the couch where she usually slept. You had bought a pull out for her years ago when she continued to crash at your place time after time.

You entered the area holding a white box stamped with a white cross. Uncharacteristically silent you sat on the coffee table across from her, quietly mumbling for her to remove her shirt. Bandaging her wounds, your hands worked with an unfamiliar harshness. Whenever she came to you with wounds, you never asked questions accepting the answer from the one time where she told you she worked as a security guard.

Tugging harshly at a wound around her bicep you tore the end of the bandage off before slapping another onto her cheek. She scratched at the irritable , itchy material against her cheek, watching as you left the room for a moment.

Her eyes wandered from the hallway you retreated to towards the desk sitting in the corner of the room. Against her gut telling her not to, Natasha peeked at the open computer emitting a soft light. Pulled up in a google chrome browser were some of the files she had released, files on her. You had read the files.

In her 8 years of knowing you, Natasha never once told you about her past. She let you know her as the redhead who spilled coffee in the middle of a cafe. You had grown to know her as the woman who mysteriously showed up at your house with cuts littering her face. Her impression on you was as an adult who worked as a security guard and didn't have a family to go to.

She re-used her old name when around you. When she became an avenger, you didn't question how she looked like a female superhero on TV - it was a blessing Natasha had managed to mostly avoid the cameras.

But now you knew. You were everything she wasn't, Natasha didn't you to know about her life that was dripping with blood. Your eyes sparkled bright and smiled shimmered in contrast to her dark shadows. It was a secret she kept close to her chest, but it was out the window now.

Re-entering the room you followed her eye line to the computer, your lips twisting further downward. Natasha opened her mouth to speak in her defense, but you cut her off.

"Where you ever going to tell me? Or were you going to leave me in the dark Natalia? Or is it Natasha? Or Natalie Rushman? Nadia Vostokoff?"

Tears brimmed your eyes as you spoke, your voice cracking at the end.

"Y/N I was going to tell you, but you-" Natasha began, her voice surprisingly strong despite her stomach twisting into knots.

"I what? I was too innocent? Too oblivious? I'm not a fucking child Natalia! I deserved to know!" The clothes you had been carrying for her dropped to floor silently as you threw your hands up in frustration, "I deserved to know." your voice was quieter, a broken whisper as you repeated your statement.

For once in her life Natasha was at a loss for words. You had never acted out like this before, usually calm and quiet.

You took her stunned silence as a que to keep going, "I deserved to know my best friend had done all that," your hand flailed towards the computer, "You should have fucking told me!"

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish before she schooled her face and forced her mouth and brain to form coherent sentences, "I know."

"If you know then why didn't I?" you said.

"It never came up," Natasha shrugged, reverting back to her roots of diverting the conversation, "Can we talk about it in the morning? Please?" She gave you those wide eyes that always worked, and it seemed you knew she was manipulating you but regardless you sighed and plucked the clothes off the ground.

Crossing the room in a few short strides you dropped the clothes into her lap, the smell of your perfume flooding her nose. Without another word you stalked to your bedroom, heavy footsteps echoing with anger.

<__________>

Natasha was gone early the next morning without giving you a chance to talk to her about it. It was clear she wasn't welcome there anymore. Neatly, she had folded the clothes and set them on the counter with a note.

I'm sorry I never told you. I'll be out of your hair now.

-N.A

Her heart throbbed painfully and there was a twinge in her abdomen as she snuck out the window into the alley behind your house, the gravel crunching beneath her feet. There were only a few places she could go now. The Senate would most likely want her to give a statement, and despite that being the last thing she wanted to do, Natasha knew it would happen eventually.

Sure enough, the next when watching the news - the Senate was announcing that they wanted to know her where abouts so they could have her give a statement. Reluctantly, but hopeful for a chance to potentially clear her name, Natasha gave the stupid statement and walked off with a bang.

Tony approached her after that, pulling up outside with one of his fancy cars and acted like he was picking her up. Happy greeted her with a nod and pinched brows as he opened the door to the car. She slipped in, her heels nearly catching on the rim of the door. Sliding his classes down, Tony turned to face her with a wide grin.

"There's my favorite Russian Assassin," Natasha ignored the way her stomach churned at those words and focused on the car moving and the flashes outside, "So, I know that you need some where to go know and since I have a bunch of space leftover, you wanna stay at the tower? It'll be like old times."

Nothing ever came for free with Tony, but Natasha caught the caring glint in his eye and knew he just wanted to help. Grudging, she nodded her head - much to Tony's amusement as he grinned and slung an arm over her shoulder. She shrugged him off with a hard stare.

Life at the tower had been fine - Turns out Tony offered residence to Steve and Maria as well so they were both residing there (According to Maria she was merely working there, but Natasha had a suspicion Tony let her stay because of their minimal friendship). Bruce resided there. Natasha took one look at him, at his messy graying hair, dark eyebags and decided he would be an easy way to forget everything. Throughout that time she took up to flirting with the man. The usual enjoyment she got when she playfully flirted with you was not present when she did so with Bruce.

Over time, she kept tabs on you - watching as you moved out into the country and bought yourself a house and a truck.

Which led her to where she was now, knocking on your doorstep once more as Clint held her upright and the rest of the Avengers stood clustered behind her. Ultron did a number on them and it was reasonable Clint didn't want to bring everyone to the farmhouse. Despite not seeing you for a year, Natasha silently hoped you would help.

The door opened slowly, the movement conveying hesitance, and your tired face stared back. Dark bags half-circled your eyes and your hair was disheveled. A baggy shirt dangled off your right shoulder - which you righted once you caught sight of the group in front of you.

"Natalia?" the name was unwelcome at the time, but Natasha couldn't care to correct you, "Wha-?"

"Please, I know I said I'll be out of your hair, but we have no where else to go."

You exhale slowly, taking stock of the group before scrunching your nose and letting them in. Natasha barely missed tripping over a cat as she entered - a calico cat who bounded after you with excited meows. Scooping it up in your arms with a soft coo, you turned to face the group.

"Sorry about the mess," your eyes scanned over the group, entirely missing Natasha, "I never have anyone over so," a helpless shrug of your shoulders, "You guys can wash up upstairs, bathroom is first door the your right and there's an extra bedroom with another bathroom at the end of the hall. I'll make some dinner."

Natasha avoided you the entire time and they were gone the next morning.

<_________>

The next time she knocked on your doorstep was bruised and bloodied and with three companions. Yelena groaned behind her, the sound impatient and ready to rest.

"Sestra, is this person going to open the door or not?"

"Give her a minute Yelena, it's the middle of the night."

Eventually she knocked again, her bruised knuckles rapping against the door and a dog's bark echoing behind the door. Melina sighed impatiently behind her and Alexei let out an annoyed groan of exaggerated pain. When the rest of the group seemed ready to leave, even though Natasha knew you would answer the door (You always did), the door swung open - a dog's insistent barking still echoing through the house.

You looked worse than before with your eye bags deeper and skin paler. Sunken in cheekbones made you look like you were dying and your hair was messier than ever. Squinting your eyes you gently shoved the dog back into the house and stepped outside, closing the door.

"Natalia? What are you doing here?" your voice was scratchier than last time.

"We- um, we need a place to stay."

For a moment it looked like you would turn her away with the way your nose crinkled and eye brows pinched together with a sharp exhale. Thinking it over, you let them in with a tired sigh. Natasha took in the place, nearly the same as before aside from a few extra Monster cans littering the counter next to an open computer and dirty coffee cups lying around on a coffee table in the sitting room. You led them over there, having them all sit on the couch before flicking on a light.

"Alright," you placed your hands on your hips, a familiar sight, "I don't need to know who you are. There are two bedrooms upstairs, plus a blowup mattress in one of them, and the couch is a pullout. Split it up however you want, I don't really care. There should be some food in the fridge if your hungry," after giving them a once over once more you closed your eyes briefly and groaned, "You guys don't have a change of clothes do you? Fine, I'll be right back."

Before any of them could protest you were slipping on a pair of shoes by the door and snatching a pair of keys off the counter, the dog barking at you as you headed towards the door. Natasha caught the barest hint of a smile on your face you led the dog out the door to join you on your midnight errand.

"Who is that?" Yelena asked, her accent thick.

"....A friend," Natasha replied hesitantly, plucking at her suit, "We shouldn't stay here long."

Melina eyed her suspiciously.

"A friend?" Alexei guffawed, "Natasha she did not seem like your friend!" His loud voice echoed through the house.

"You three can have the upstairs rooms, I'll take the couch," Natasha ignored her fake father and ushered them all off the couch while she pulled out the couch. It snapped open with a pop and she found a fluffy blanket buried in a basket next to the couch.

Yelena was the only one remaining in the room, her skeptical gaze resting on Natasha.

"What Yelena?"

The blonde shrunk in on herself slightly at the harsh tone and Natasha forced herself to calm a little.

"Who is she?" she repeated her earlier question, this time with more persistence than before.

"A friend."

"Natasha, she did not seem to like you."

Natasha gave a one-shouldered shrug, aiming for indifference, but Yelena was a trained widow - trained to spot emotions even if you didn't want her to. She plopped down on the couch, her arms splayed out and peering up at Natasha with puppy-dog eyes, the one's the redhead often used on you.

"Please?"

Natasha huffed at her childish behavior, shoving Yelena off, "We had a falling out. She doesn't really like me anymore."

A thud echoed upstairs and Natasha's head snapped up before she raced up the stairs and burst into the first room. Alexei sat on the ground under Melina's patronizing stare. A cat - the same Calico as before - sat in front of them, it's back to the door. The creature meowed, inching forward towards the man on the floor who gave a shout and stood up, scrambling backwards. When Yelena entered and caught sight of the scene she burst out laughing.

"Are you scared of a котенок (cat)?" she asked teasingly, Russian accent even clearer through her amusement.

"That is a spawn of hell!" Alexei tried to defend himself.

In what Natasha assumed was an attempt to regain some of his pride Alexei aimed a small kick at the cat as it neared closer. The animal would have gotten launched into the wall had Natasha not scooped it up into her arms, ignoring the way the creature instantly burrowed into her.

"Alexei!" she screeched, "How do you think Y/N would react if you launched her cat into the wall!"

The man gave a sheepish shrug but still lifted his chin with pride. Yelena gave a shout of triumph next to her, pumping her fist into the air.

"What?"

"You gave me her name!" Yelena crowed, a bright grin on her face.

Smacking her fist on her forehead, the cat jumping out of her arms at the same time, Natasha groaned at Yelena's childish nature. She had given the blonde your name, which basically meant giving her your entire life story, but she figured Yelena would figure it out sooner or later.

You returned not soon after the cat incident, in that time Natasha had dug out Mac and Cheese from the pantry to cook for them, much to Yelena and Alexei's excitement. The cat, who she still didn't have a name for, paced around her feet, purring.

The crinkling of plastic bags alerted everyone of your return, and the sound of dog paws scrapping against the floor.

"Bosco! No! C'mon, crate!" She turned her head to see your arms full of plastic bags - Walmart bags - as you herded the dog towards a wooden crate sitting in the corner.

The dog promptly sat on it's rump, staring up at you with pleading eyes. You sighed and gave a shake of your head with a soft smile, "No, crate."

With a pitiful whine the dog turned and sulked to its crate, giving you sad eyes all the while. Once you had secured the dog you turned back into the kitchen, prompting Yelena to stop snooping through your computer and you set the bags on the counter.

"Ok," you pulled a can of monsters and some candy out of one bag before retrieving some basic groceries - milk, cheese, ham, bread, pasta - out of another, "I got you some clothes," you lobbed a bag at Alexie's head and slid another over to Melina, "Those two are for you, I wasn't sure what size Mr. Super Soldier over there needed," despite it being a joke Alexei preened at your comment, "and I took a god guess for the rest of you. Go get changed, I'll see if I can salvage Natalia's attempt at Mac and Cheese."

The redhead turned panicked towards her pot of water, it looked fine, but she had never the best at cooking. When the rest left the room Natasha hesitated, lingering in the entrance of the kitchen as you stirred the pot.

"What do you want Natalia?" turning around you leaned on the counter, arms crossed.

She wanted to know if you were ok. How you were doing. Why you looked so tired. If everything was well. What were your pet's names.

Instead she blurted, "Are you mad at me?"

You blinked owlishly at her for a moment before a sad chuckle left your throat, "Yeah, a little."

"Why?"

"Why?" you parroted, your eyebrows crinkling, "because I found out my best friend was a killer, and then when she promised to explain she left! Then you show up a year later with the Avengers, on my doorstep. Which I still have no idea how you found me. And then you don't visit at all after that before showing up with whoever those people are! Natalia I can't just be the person you come to when you need a place to hide, I have my own life!"

"Really?" she raised a brow, stepping closer, "because all I see is a broken girl. Have you seen yourself lately? You look half-dead. I wouldn't call that a life."

You scoffed, "Sorry that I'm going through some hardships right now with no one to turn to."

"Well it's not like you bothered to contact me either!" she exploded, her hands clenched into fists, "You think I didn't want to talk to you? Come here and have it be like old times where we had sleepovers that we were probably too old for?"

Both of you ignored the way the pot started bubbling over behind you, rather you took a step forward, chin tilted upwards. There was a staring contest between the two of you, a battle of wills. There had been fights between both of you before, one's that always ended like this - one's that Natasha always won.

Your lips started quivering and tears gathered in your eyes, but you held strong staring back at her defiantly. Natasha reached her hand up to brush away a tear that slid down your cheek but you slapped her hand away. Tension crackled in the air as you swallowed thickly and your bottom lips trembled more. A small sniffle escaped you and Natasha's heart broke at your obvious pain. You always hated confrontation, taking care to avoid it.

"Y/N," she reached a hand up to cup your cheek, pulling it back when you flinched.

Your head dipped down, "I have cancer Natalia," you whispered, the words nothing more than broken sounds.

Going from defiant to sad gave her whiplash but Natasha stared at you stunned, and suddenly your frail appearance made sense. The sunken in cheekbones, pale skin, shaky movements, the way your long-sleeve shirt clung to your bony arms.

"You what?"

"I have cancer," you repeated, continuing on her raised eyebrow, "breast cancer. Stage 4. Doctor didn't give me long to live."

She was at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say to someone who told you they had cancer? Once more she reached for your cheek, gently cupping it when you didn't pull away. You leaned into her touch, albeit hesitantly. Your eyes slipped closed.

Slowly Natsha leaned in, your lips millimeters from yours and she could hear your ragged breathing. She stared down her nose at your lips before gently pressing a kiss onto them. Your eyes snapped open, wide and disbelieving, but you didn't pull away - rather pressing in further. Her hands moved to your hips as she deepened the kiss. Your lips were soft, as she always had imagined, and she caught a whiff of your gentle perfume.

You pulled away first with a dopey smile on your face, "I've wanted to do that for a while."

"Me too," she whispered.

An un-lady like snort escaped you, "With the way you were looking at Banner last time?"

She twisted her lips, "Don't ruin the mood."

You let out a little laugh, the sound soft and angelic to her ears. She leaned in for another kiss and you were about to meet her halfway before a loud voice interrupted the moment.

"A friend!" Alexei exclaimed, "I see you were lying Natasha!"

You jumped away from her, much to Natasha's dismay, with a rosy blush on your pale cheeks.

"Alexei!" Natasha hissed, "Leave her be."

"Aww," Yelena cooed from behind him, her blonde hair let down and flowing past her shoulders, "Natasha has a girlfriend."

Your fiery blush was a welcome sight accompanied by your embarrassed laugh.

<__________>

Everything didn't go back to normal after that. The argument that had been going on for years was not shoved under rug. You had ended up confronting her about the next morning.

"Natali- Natasha," you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirt, "Can we talk?"

Internally Natasha cooed at your shyness before nodding and following you out the backdoor, greeted by the sound chickens.

"Look, I know that last night it might have seemed like we shoved it under the rug but I still wanted to talk about a few years ago. Because I deserved to know, y'know? And-" your voice cracked a little in the middle of your rambling as your face tilted downward, "And I was hurt. You were my best friend but it turns out you were lying to me all that time and then I had to find out through the internet. Natasha that- that hurt and-"

She placed her hands on your waist, effectively cutting you off and leaned in to give you a kiss, startled when you shoved her backwards.

"No," your voice was firm despite the small tremble in it, "You are not kissing your way out of this."

Natasha huffed, mainly frustrated at herself for reverting back to an old tactic before crossing her arms. Then uncrossing them, recrossing them, before eventually letting them drop to her side.

"Look- Y/N I wanted to tell you I did," she raised a finger at your raised eyebrow and open mouth, "No. Let me talk. I was going to tell you, but you were so...you were everything I wasn't. You were sweet and kind and caring and oh so innocent and I didn't want to ruin that. You were one of the first people to really care for me in a long while and selfishly I didn't want that to change."

"I didn't care that you had done all those things Natasha," unconsciously you pulled your arms around your waist, "I cared that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."

"I did trust you," she stepped closer, gently grabbing your hands in hers - ignoring the way you tried to pull away before taking a deep breath, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

She released one of your hands to cup your chin, gently tilting your head up. Your beautiful eyes were rimmed with tears and your bottom lip stuck out in a small pout. Tugging you towards her, you buriedyour face in Natasha's neck.

"We good now?" she whispered.

"Yeah."

Natasha held like that for a moment, awkwardly rubbing her hand up and down your back.

"You still have to explain the people in house though Natalia."

<________>

They were gone.

Wanda, Bucky - all of them. They just went poof. The News was calling it The Blip, some calling it The Decimation. Half the population of the world was gone. She stripped her suit, the thing covered in dirt, and stepped into the cold shower, letting the water run over her bruised body.

All she wanted was to wash up and return home to you. In the past years, she had taken to moving in with you - after finding Steve and Sam and freeing Wanda. You had welcomed the other's into the house as well and your place became somewhat of a home base for them. When Steve and the other's weren't there, Yelena used the place a base to house widows or as a rest stop.

Natasha took up residence permanently there and it was the best part of her life. She loved spending that quality time with you and wanted nothing more than to fly home and snuggle up with you in your bed and watch movies.

The only downside was your cancer wasn't getting any better. Natasha shivered, and not from the cold water, as she stepped out. You got worse every day put still put on a brave smile for her and gave life your all.

She glanced at her phone when a new notification popped, the message an unknown number. No one had her number aside from you, her family, and the avengers. Hesitantly she opened the message, giving it a once over. She read it again. And again. And a fourth time before dropping to her knees, a sob building in her throat.

We are sorry to inform you Ms. L/N has unfortunately passed away due to stage 5 breast cancer.

While part of her was touched that she was your emergency contact the information broke her. You were gone. You were gone and she wasn't there for you. Natasha promised she wasn't going to do as much superhero stuff, spend time with you instead, and the one time she was gone you died.

Natasha cupped her hand over her mouth when she got another message pop up, this one from a Yelena's phone.

This is Ana, a widow Yelena was planning to free. She got blipped.

The sob nearly tore it's way out of her throat as she blinked back tears. This is why she wasn't supposed to care. She wasn't supposed to love. She wasn't supposed to feel. But Natasha Romanoff learned to feel and care and love and it had broke her.

Natalia Romanova may not have cried, but Natasha Romanoff did and she had just lost nearly everyone that mattered.

[thatsgay-writes]

The Princess & The Knight... & The Archer? Part 2

Part 1

Not Proof Read, Nothing Is Proof Read

TW: Death (I apologize in advance :) )

The days blur together as you ride in the silt sleigh across the shattered sea. The wound on your arm was definitely affecting you still, even after your friends tried their own methods of healing on it, but you were getting better at managing the pain. Each day, Jade or Kit or sometimes both would sit in with you and you would all talk about anything and everything you could. It was nice, it felt like you were back in the old days where there was less responsibilities and less chances of death. At night you would usually stay in the sleigh, as getting in and out meant using your arm, but tonight you finally felt that you could join the others. And how you wish you didn't.

You walked out the door of the sleigh to see Willow and Elora having a magic battle and on the other side of the island, hidden by shadows, you could see two figures sword fighting. It was obviously Kit and Jade, as Boorman used an axe and Graydon had magic now, plus both man sat in front of the fire. Your heartbeat sped up at the sight of your two favorite people and you were ready to take off the makeshift sling you had been wearing to go down and join them but before you could they both fell to the ground. Kit on top of Jade pinning her down. It felt like sucker punch to the gut again as it reminded you of what you saw many, many nights ago before everything went to hell. A cold feeling washed over you as you could see Kit's face lower to Jades. That was why you were here. You were here because Kit loves Jade and Jade loves Kit and you were in love with them and even though you couldn't have them you would make sure that they would always have each other.

---

"You've killed us!" You hear Boorman yell from the front of the sleigh. Kit and Jade stand up fast, both offering you a hand to help you up but you ignore it. "I didn't have a choice." Graydon defends as the three of you walk around the side of the sleigh. "What did he do?" Jade asks and you could tell Boorman was angry by the way he looked. "He set... Kenneth free. Now we are stuck in the middle of nowhere! There is no where to go forwards and no where to go backwards!" Boorman rants as he paces. "He was sick!" Boorman opened his mouth to continue but Elora cut him off, "Then we walk." You eyes go wide as you look at her. "Walk to what? For how long? Until we starve!?" Boorman says as he gets in her face. You take a few steps towards them and put your hand on his chest to push him back some. But instead of putting it on the center of his chest, you place your hand right where the lux enters the cuirass and Boorman slaps you hand away, causing Jade and Kit to yell at him. "We're close." Is all Elora says as she heads towards the sleigh to pack her bag.

The rest of you slowly follow suit. It silent as everyone takes turns to pack their things, since the inside of the room is small. You, Jade, and Kit all pack yours at the same time. You take this time to also change your bandage on your arm, letting out small grunts of pain. So focused on your arm, you miss the way the two girls behind you stop their packing and share concerned looks. Your arm, while it had stopped bleeding, still leaked gold or sometimes both. You wrapped your injury and put extra pressure on it since you knew you were coming to the end of your journey and that you would need to fight and have less time to worry about it. You slide your sling back on over your head and grab your bag when you feel a hand on yours. You turn to see Kit giving you a sad smile, you turned to Jade and she was giving you the same expression. "What's going on?" Kit looks at Jade, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. "We don't think you should come with us." Jade says as Kit continues to hold your hand. "What?"

"Well your already injured and we wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you." Jade's explanation is logical but you were too angry to care. "So what? I can't take care of myself because of some cut on my arm?" "You could barely function a few weeks ago... And now we're almost to the Crone..." Kit says as she trails off. You drop her hand with a scoff. "I can handle myself. I-" You let out a sudden scream of pain as Jade barely grips your injured arm. "Look I barely touched you and you screamed. You can't come." Jade said sternly, hating that she caused you pain just to get her point across. You glare at the both of them. "Neither of you are my mom, so you don't get to boss me around." Kit opens her mouth the speak but you cut her off. "I don't care if you're the princess. I am going and until one of you has a better reason for me not to go, then I am going. Whether you like-"

"It's because we love you!" Kit yells at you and you go silent. "What?" You look between the two girls in front of you with tears in your eyes. "If this is some sick joke, I don't-" "It's not." Jade says as she puts both hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at her. "We have both been working on expressing our love for each other and you and this may not have been the ideal way to tell you but we do... love you." Your heart was beating out of your chest. Was this real? Were those months of pain for no reason? "But the kiss in your room and then on the beach... It didn't seem like you guys needed any work for that." You spit out as you back away from Jade's hold, the faces of the two girls in front of you heating up. "Well one was a heat of the moment one and the other, afterwards, we were started planning on how to tell you and-"

A banging on the side of the ship interrupts Kit. "Hurry up, we're losing non existent daylight! Save the love making for later!" You hear Boorman yell. "Just please, wait here. We'll be back in a few days top." Jade says as she ushers Kit towards the door. "Wait but-" Your cut off by the door closing. "I love you guys too..."

---

"What idiots." You mumble as you walk forwards the shattered sea alone. You gave the group maybe and hour head start before you broke down the door, Jade had barred it closed from outside, and followed them. "Tell me your in love with me and then expect me not to even follow... Didn't even get a damn kiss at least." You continue to mumble to yourself, until you see a small figure coming towards you. "Willow?" You question as you both finally meet in the middle, and your stomach drops. "Where are the others? Did something happen?"

"We found it. The end of the shattered sea." Willow says solemnly. "That's great! Then why are you here?" "They jumped off the edge to get to Immemorial City, that is hopefully there." Your heart dropped again for like the 5th time in the past couple of weeks. "They what?" Willow just nods his head in confirmation. "And you didn't follow? You're an all powerful sorcerer or something! They could need you!" "It is too much of a risk I need to get back to Mims, she's in danger and I need to be there or I'll lose her too." You want to scoff at Willow but you know he is just following his heart like you are. "Willow, we are weeks, months even, from your home. If something is going to or has already happened to Mims, it's too late. But maybe, just maybe, taking out the Crone can stop anything from happening. There is clearly a war brewing out here and if we don't stop the Crone right now, there will be nowhere for any of us to return to." Willow ponders what you said for a few seconds before nodding his head. "I guess your right. Just this once." He says and you laugh before patting him on the shoulder. "Well let's not make a habit of it. Take us to the edge of the world." You say as you both head the way Willow had just come. "You three are very much alike... I can see why you all love each other." Willow says as he walks a few paces in front of you, thankfully meaning he can't see the smile that grows on your face.

---

"No!" "Graydon!" You and your companions yell as there is a lull in the battle, only for you to watch Graydon get seemingly exploded and pushed through a portal. You share a scared look with Kit and Jade as Elora punches the Crone out of the room. You're all on high alert afterwards, even after Boorman takes the time to give Kit the Cuirass and Jade the Lux and pushed all of you out of the room. "Boorman!" You yell as he closes the door behind him and you bang on it once before stopping. "Come on, we need to go." Jade says as she grabs your arm and pull you away from the doors. "We need to find Airk." Kit says as she looks between the two of you and your bad arm. "I thought we told you not to come." Jade turns on you after noticing Kit's eyes wander. "You can't tell me you love me and then not expect me to follow you to the end of the world!" You tell her. "We will sort this out later, I need to find Airk." Kit cuts of your arguing and you and Jade both nod. "Fine but you are to stay back and cover us." Jade says to you and you begrudgingly agree.

---

"I am your king!" You hear Airk yell and you shake your head at his idiocrasy. You keep an eye on both battles happening at each side of the fountain when you notice a movement out of the corner of your eye. It's the nice looking version of the Crone, the captured Princess of Cashmere, and she was sneaking up on Elora who was too busy with the Crone. You knew that Kit was supposed to be Elora's defender but she was locked in a heated battle with Jade against her brother and no one else was in sight. So you take of running towards the other princess and tackle her to the ground. She manages to escape your hold and grabs a sword that was laying on the ground. "How are you here and there?" You ask you unsheathe your sword and take off your sling. "Magic." Is all she says before charging at you and you accept that answer because that seemed reasonable. Your swords clashed loudly as she swung hers in a downward motion with two hands. If you were at 100%, this would have been the easiest fight of your life because it seems that when the Crone split herself, she kept all the magic for her form directly fighting Elora. And the princess version of her was mediocre at best with a sword.

But each time you had to use both arms to hold the sword to block an attack, pain was shot throughout your body, black spots danced across your vision, and everything was just so sore. "I thought this would be a harder fight." Princess Crone taunts as you roll to the side to dodge another hit. "Well maybe if this was a fair fight, you wouldn't be so cocky." You say back as you let out deep breathes. Dodging was better than blocking but it was still so taxing on your body. "Then how about I make it fair." She responds as she smacks you across the head with the hilt of her sword. "Wha-" Is all you can say as the hit dazes you before letting out a strangled scream. "There, no arm, no pain." You fall back against a wall and hold what's left of your arm to your chest, blood coating your clothes. "You bitch!" You yell at her as tears stream down your face. "Don't worry, I know how to make the pain stop permanently." She says as she brings her sword over your chest and you accept your fate. But the blow never comes.

---

"Hi." Kit says happily as she holds Airk's face in her hands, glad she was able to save her brother. "You're okay." Willow says from behind her and Airk just nods before sending a questioning look to his sister. "Who is that?" Kit laughs as she lets a happy tear slide down her face, she turns to look at her group of friends. "That's Willow..." Kit surveys her group, Boorman having just arrived covered in goop, just meant you and Graydon weren't here. Graydon for obvious reasons but you...

Kit's face morphs from one of pure happiness to fear. "Where's y/n?" Kit feels like she can physically see Jade's heart stop. Everyone else looks around confused before they get worried as well. "Y/n!" Boorman starts to yell as he turns and starts to look for you, everyone else joins in.

You can hear your friends calling for you and you want to scream, shout, yell, whisper, anything to let them know that you were just down this hallway, just on the other side of the wall, just right there... and just so utterly scared. You lost feeling in your body first, any strength you had seeped out of your body twice as fast as your blood, along with any warmth. You tried so hard to stay awake, so hard to see Kit and Jade one last time, to speak to them one last time. Maybe they would hold you close, let you know you did everything you could. Maybe they would kiss you, reassure you that they would always remember you, always think of you. Maybe... Maybe, maybe, was all you would get. You were so tired, falling asleep in the sand wouldn't have been the worse place you've had to sleep on this quest. No, wait, you weren't falling asleep, you were dying. But every time you closed your eyes you would see Kit and Jade there, laughing and happy with you, like a dream. Maybe that's the last thing you want to remember before you go, not the inevitable look of fear and heartbreak when they find you lying here, broken and dying. You use any last strength, life, that you had left in you to write the words, I love you, into the sand before letting go. They would be okay without you, it may take time but you've all always had each other, and this time it wouldn't be any different.

---

Willow's the first to find you, tears instantly gathering in his eyes. He could tell you were already gone, the rise and fall of your chest was inexistant and your eyes were still open in an unfocused gaze, unblinking. He walks towards you solemnly and closes your eyes, the others didn't need to see that, Kit and Jade didn't need to see that. He walks out the hallway back to where everyone was searching and waited for someone to notice him. He didn't want to be the one to say the words, to tell the group that not only had they lost Graydon but you too. It's Jade that notices something is wrong first, she was always so observant about things. She could see the way Willow had deflated, how he didn't move from his spot in front of the hallway, how he already had tears falling from his face and onto his clothes.

"Kit." Is all Jade had to say to get the other girls attention and they both started running. The sound of Kit's armour and sword clanging against each other was enough to get the focus of the other people looking for you.

Kit was the first to reach you, crumbling to the ground as she took in your state. Head down, arm gone, blood everywhere, no movement. She calls out your name over and over again, begging for you to wake up for this to be some sick joke. Her fingers digging into your shoulders as she tries to shake you awake like you were in a trance. It only fully registers that this was real when she feels Jade pull her back and into her embrace. The feeling of Jade's tears falling onto her shirt, cementing that you were gone and you weren't coming back. The two girls broke down together, you were gone. There would be no more trainings, no more late night conversations, no more sneaking Jade AND you into the castle at night when you returned to Tir Asleen. No more anything.

And the message you had written into the sand? Blown away before either could see it.

[the-gay-overcoat]

Returning Home

chapter 1 (dont know if there will be more)

cw for transphobia, deadnaming, misgendering, physical and verbal abuse, etc

Nikolai stared at himself in his full length mirror, holding a dress up to his chest to see if it would still fit. He was malnourished when his mother made it for him, he would likely have to tailor it a bit.

He grabbed a sewing kit and adjusted the garment, ignoring the sheer amount of times he had accidentally pricked his fingers. He changed into the dress and flinched at his reflection, feeling that he looked too feminine. But his mother would yell at him for wearing something that wasn't a dress.

He sighed and took the tie out of his hair and brushed his braid out. He examined himself in the mirror before using his coat to portal to his home village.

It took a few portals before he finally arrived in the familiar woods outside of his village. He dropped his coat and hid it under foliage, his mother would hate the coat, yell at him for using his ability.

He followed the river into the edge of his village. He looked around for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Mama I'm home!" He called into the village before an older woman looked at him. It was his mother. People had commented how remarkably similar they had looked, as they both had white hair.

"Ivanna! Oh you're home! We've missed you dearly!" His mother ran over and hugged Nikolai tightly before pulling back and slapping him across the face. "Idiot girl! You shouldn't have run away! Your father was so worried he became ill!" She yelled at Nikolai and grabbed his hair, yanking it a bit. "You are the devils child! I'm going to go collect the priest and everyone for an exorcism you stupid girl." She then dragged Nikolai along by the hair further into the village, towards their home.

A young girl stood in front of the entrance of the chicken pen, holding a basket in hands wrapped in bandages. Nikolai's mother looked at her for a moment before letting to of his hair. "Go help your niece with the chickens, idiot girl is afraid of them." She huffed before leaving Nikolai in front of his childhood home.

Nikolai lifted the skirt of his dress and ran over to the girl, his niece. "Kateryna! Kat! My little mouse!!" He called before making it to her and picking her up in a tight hug. He spun her around and smiled.

"Auntie Ivanna! Mama and Granny said you would never come back!" Kateryna said as she hugged Nikolai back.

"Well they were wrong. I see you need help with the chickens? Are we feeding them or collecting eggs?" He asked as he set the girl down.

"Collecting eggs." She looked at the coop and frowned slightly. Nikolai couldn't help but smile.

"Off to the river then!" Nikolai grabbed the girls hand and dragged her to the river only to feel her pull back.

"What are we doing at the river? We need to get the eggs!" She looked up at Nikolai with wide, confused eyes.

"Collecting stones. Theres white stones in the river that are around the same size and shape of the chickens eggs, and those silly birds aren't that smart so they'll think the stones are their eggs. Do we know how many eggs there are?"

"Mama counted. Theres about 40 eggs. And the chickens are smart! Don't be mean to them!" Kateryna seemed to be defensive of the chickens, seemed to care about them just as much as Nikolai did when he was growing up.

"My little Kat, I grew up with the chickens. Some nights mama made me sleep in their coop. I know how stupid those birds can be." Nikolai hummed as he went to the river. He caught sight of his reflection in the water before looking back at his niece. "Go along the edge and find some white stones, I'll get some from the bottom because those are the best." He stated. Kateryna did as told and began to search for stones.

Nikolai took off his dress, hand sewn and embroidered by his mom for his eighteenth birthday. He folded it neatly and waded into the river, diving in to the bottom. He always loved swimming in this river, the water was cool and the little fish were so silly and curious, darting away only to swim up and try to nibble at his hands.

As he swam in the water he couldn't help but notice a stinging sensation on his fingers. Right, he had pulled his nails off not that long ago. He chose to ignore it and began to search the river bed for white stones.

He saw a few of his stone and went to collect them only to feel as if he were choking. He went to swim up to the surface but the stream was getting too strong, he couldn't break free or the water. He let out the breath he had been holding only to feel his lungs fill with the cool river water.

He wanted to scream, his lungs burned, he kept trying to breathe. Suddenly he was slammed into the riverbank. He scrambled out of the river and coughed up the water, breathing in deep the fresh forest air. He coughed a few more times and fell on his side, only wearing a bra and boxers. The grass felt nice against his skin.

Slowly, he sat up and looked around. He didn't recognize where he was. How strong was the rivers current? He squeezed some water out of his hair and looked around before standing up and following the river back towards the village.

It took a while before he heard his mother and niece calling his name. He ran over and smiled brightly. "Mama! Kat!" He called only to be slapped across the face by his mother again.

"Idiot girl! You should not have gone into the river! I have told you this so many times!" She grabbed his hair and tugged it again. "What are you wearing?! Look at you! You have put on so much weight!" She grabbed the dress from the ground and shoved it back in Nikolai's hands. "Get dressed, we are performing an exorcism on you. You are a stupid girl, your sister is days from birth and you are making her leave her room for an exorcism!"

"Olena is pregnant?" Nikolai asked as he pulled the dress on. "But what of her near passing when she had Kateryna?" He smoothed the dress only to be dragged towards the church by the hair.

"If it weren't for a certain someone disappearing right before she was to be wed, Olena wouldn't be trying to give us a boy!" His mother spat as he was then shoved before the priest in front of the whole village.

Nikolai blocked out the whole exorcism, even the way the priest touched him and his mothers hissed insults. He wanted to run and hide but he couldn't. He was trapped in his home town. He needed to stay. At least his niece was here. At least he was with people who knew him inside and out.

When the exorcism was over he was dragged by his mother to his home and shoved into his old room.

"You are the devils child, girl. You will not have dinner tonight. You are lucky I am not keeping you in the coop tonight!" He could hear something being pushed against the door, perhaps the table in the hallway.

Nikolai began to pound at the door. "Mama please! Please! I haven't been home in years! I want to have dinner with you and papa and Olena and Kateryna!" He cried as he kept pounding at the door. It was often he would be locked in his room or in the chicken coop for some random reason thar his mother deemed a sin.

"Foolish girl! You are not going to eat dinner tonight!" Nikolai began to sob as his mother kept yelling at him. He could hear her walk to the kitchen and he kept pounding on the door while crying and screaming for his mother to let him out.

After what seemed like ages Nikolai eventually passed out right there on the floor in front of the door. He had almost forgotten why he ran away.

——————

tag list: @shopping-for-casino-rats (reply or reblog if you want to be tagged in the next one

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Howdy. Thanks for the prompt :)

—-

CW - blood, torture, gore

“Our commander will gut you when he hears about this,” the protagonist said, from where she stood strung up against the barn wall.

Her eyes followed the villain as he strolled to the far wall, and her stomach churned as he perused the weapons displayed there.

He had a soft, gentlemanly face, with tidy facial hair and big round eyes. It made the flecks of blood splattered across his cheek look all the more frightening.

“It wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to kill me.” The villain chose a long, polished machete, and turned back around with an equally sharp smile. “Maybe I should gut you, handsome. That way, at least I’ll deserve my death.”

When he’d captured the protagonist’s team, he’d taken one look at her, and said he liked to start with the pretty boys.

“Let him go,” one of her teammates said. “You’ve proven you're the big guy. We get it.”

All her teammates were tied amongst the hay and barrels, and their faces held nothing but fear.

“Don’t make assumptions about me,” the villain said, crossing back to the protagonist. He closed in on her until he swallowed her entire view of the room. “I’m not trying to prove anything.”

He slashed the blade across the protagonist’s face, under her eyes and across her nose.

She grunted, but didn’t scream. Screaming would sound high, and feminine. It would immediately give her away.

Then, the villain grabbed the collar of her tunic, and started pulling on the fabric. 

The protagonist froze. “No.” 

She’d known that being outed was a possibility here. She thought she’d prepared herself for it. But she wasn’t ready for her world to be ripped away like a rickety shelter in a tornado.

The villain didn’t listen, of course, and his knife slashed into the fabric.

His hands stilled. He stared dumbfounded at the bandages wrapped tightly around her chest.

“What’s happening?” a teammate said, voice shrill. If the villain moved, her team would see, and learn her secret.

“Please,” she whispered.

Something darkened in the villain’s eyes, and then he stepped away.

The room went silent.

“What the – [Fake Name], what the hell is that?”

“[Team Leader], please let me explain.” She peered into her leader’s face, and tried not to wince at the rage and disappointment spelled across it.

“You’re a fraud,” he said, almost as though he couldn't believe it.

“This was the only way I could enlist. I didn’t have a choice, I – ”

“Shut up.” He struggled against his restraints. “You can’t spit on everything we stand for and think that’s any kind of excuse.”

Tears welled in the protagonist’s eyes. She glanced to her best friend, the boy whose life she’d saved countless times. “[Best Friend], please.”

He’d been staring at the bandages, but now averted his gaze. “[Fake name] . . . you betrayed us.”

She closed her eyes, which were beginning to fill with tears.

The protagonist didn’t see the villain move. Didn’t hear anything until a gurgle sounded throughout the barn.

She opened her eyes again, and saw her team leader. He was choking on the knife in his windpipe, blood spewing all over his shirt. The villain loomed over him in zealous glee.

She screamed.

The villain trudged back over to her, and slapped her until she stopped shrieking.

She glared at him, tears streaming down her face, mixing with blood. “You bastard.”

He smirked, and then leaned in to whisper in her ear. Her eyes went wide.

“Careful, friend. You may find we’re not so different, after all.” The villain’s voice sounded suddenly feminine.

Then the villain pulled away, and went back to the protagonist’s team. He (she? they?) stood behind them, and shot the protagonist a conspiratorial look.

“So, handsome, what would you like me to do to them next?”

[cosmic-d1ce]

Wishing Tallulah was called Vienna so since i saw vienna could be about her :(

The roads are my home, horizon's my target

If I keep on moving, never lose sight of it

Treating my memory of you like a fire, let it

Burn out, don't fight it, and try to move on

It's been sixty weeks since I saw Vienna

A bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face

I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready

And I'll put down my roots when I'm dead

The distance is futile

Come on, don't be hasty

You'll get that feeling deep inside your bones

I'll be gone then, for when you must be alone

[projectilestardust]

HC about why Dazai and Akutagawa’s relationship is the way that it is

I’d like to imagine that once upon a time, Dazai and Akutagawa’s relationship wasn’t so toxic; built on abuse, founded in an organisation for killing. 

(for the sake of these, I will refer to Ryuunosuke and Gin as Akutagawa and Gin for my own sanity and Akutagawa is Atsushi’s age which means that there’s a 3-4 year age gap between Dazai and him.)

He and his sister had been left to hold their own in the slums, and him being the older one made it so that he was never to be fully relaxed... he couldn’t afford to be. So when Dazai came to the slums and found them, Akutagawa felt as though he could breathe for the first time in years. 

Dazai was everything Akutagawa could want in an older brother. He was smart and funny, kind, caring, knew exactly what was going on in someones head and how to make them feel better. He was all compliments and gentle reassurance; he made him safe for the first time in his life. 

The first week Akutagawa and Gin had been recruited into the mafia will forever be the best week of Akutagawa’s life. It was the first time he’d slept in a bed with a full stomach, woke up to breakfast, had running water at his fingertips. And every morning, Dazai would ask how they were doing- to make sure they were getting used to their new normal....and regardless of whether is was the mafia or not, for Akutagawa, it was paradise. 

And on top of that, later that week Akutagawa and Gin would be introduced to the people who would become their best friends in the entire world. Dazai’s partner Chuuya with his flaming red hair and even more fiery personality. Q, a quiet little boy who would melt behind Dazai’s leg, using his coat to hide from the world- but once they got talking, despite his age, Akutagawa found himself clinging onto every word the boy had to offer because everyone knows the quiet ones know the most. And Elise, whose relationship with the mafia boss confused him, but regardless, he enjoyed her innocent personality, a stark contrast to the others he had met so far. 

Everything seemed to be perfect until Mori had announced that starting next week, he was to become apprentice. To be trained under the legendary mafia executive would make most tremble but Akutagawa was just thrilled to be able to spend time with Dazai- his big brother. 

So of course, he walked into the training room with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step. Looking up at Dazai, eyes wide with excitement, searching for Dazai to reciprocate his emotion but was only met with a cold hard stare of.....disappointment? 

‘Dazai?’ He nudged the older boy, ‘your face is funny.’ He giggled, confused as to why Dazai didn’t laugh along. But all confusion left his body and was left with bone-chilling dread when a loud slap echoed across the room. Dazai had just hit him. And just, the first person who had managed to make him feel safe- added another crack to his shattering heart.

The hardest part of Dazai going from his Dazai to cold Dazai was that he was never told what he did from. It had just simply gone from witty reassurance to....to nothing. But Dazai had him hooked- he knew that somewhere under all the bandages and cold unmoving eyes- he was somewhere. And maybe- just maybe- all he needed to do was be better. 

Gin begged him to stop pushing himself so far. She couldn’t lose the last person she had left. But Akutagawa refused to listen, saying it was best that he just sucked it up to prevent her from the same fate. But deep down- he knew Dazai would never hurt her the way he hurt him- hell Dazai wouldn’t ever lay a finger on her, and with that he could sleep peacefully. 

Akutagawa went through a phase of flinching at anything and everything. A door shutting too loudly, the bang of a gun, footsteps that crept up on him. The ice in Dazai’s voice. This is whe Chuuya picked up on it. When he found out he and Dazai got into this huge argument. Chuuya couldn’t possibly understand why Dazai, who had been hurt by Mori so many times, would act like him. And when he voices his thoughts, he’s hears the most heart breaking reply leave his best friends mouth.

‘Because he’s just like me- I can see myself in him- and people like us don’t make it through Chuuya. Either he gets killed within month or we’ll find him hanging from the roof before the end of the year- I can’t see another person go through that- he’s not going to live, but I need him to survive.’ 

Little did they know, little Akutagawa’s shoulders trembled as he pressed his ear against the door. That was the day he decided that he wasn’t going to give up, no matter how bad his cards were.

Thats a shitty, rushed ending ik but this has been sitting in my drafts for like a week now. 

[raspberrysmoon]

okokokok so. this fic is like my baby and i want to show her to you. if you even care

part two (but a prequel) to a dad!eddie fic i did a little bit ago! basically, this is how hannah and eddie grew into a familial relationship. its only a small snippet of hannah and ethans relationship with eddie (and eachother) but its one part of several that i have planned and written out !

(also, please please please ask me about them im going crazy over them for real i could talk for hours)

[twelvegods]

lovers

pairing/s; george weasley x fem!reader

warning/s; none

word count; -1k

summary; alba from twitter “okay so it definitely has to be height difference because that's shit's CUTE and he's actually tall as fuck???? and also maybe like... almost kissing???? and and and idk wearing each other's clothes AAAAAA“

a/n;  i was gonna do a lil bit of angst but i couldn’t do that to poor georgie he goes thru so much already 🥺 this is something i wanted to make for my friend alba for her birthday! happy birthday!

“george, hon?” you called from the kitchen of the burrow, on your tip-toes trying to reach the flour that was on the highest shelf.

almost instantly, you felt a presence towering just behind you. you startled and dropped to your heels, tilting your head up to face your incredibly tall boyfriend.

“calm down, love. ‘s only me.” george chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead and effortlessly grabbed the flour at the same time.

you turned to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head into the crook of his neck. “missed you.”

you burrowed your head further into his sweater, inhaling as much of him as you can.

“i was only gone for a few hours,” he smirked, arms wrapping around you.

you leaned back, pursing your lips, worry evident in your eyes. you gently touched the bandage wrapped around his head to prevent his ear, or lack thereof, from bleeding and to encourage healing. george winced a little as it was still a little sore. you immediately pulled away.

“yeah, and those few hours made a lot of difference.”

“i’m alive, aren’t i?” he stretched out his arms as if to say ‘here i am’. you rolled your eyes, ducking under and moving to the other counter where fred was leaned against, blowing the steam off his mug of coffee. you didn’t even hear him come in.

“did you know,” fred started, taking a sip from his drink. “that george was all the way across the house when you called for him? honestly [y/n], i was on the way to help when the git shoved me into the fireplace to get to you. nearly died i did.”

he said all this in a single tone, eyes trained on his coffee mug until they flicked up to you. “he’s a prat, is what i’m trying to say.”

you laughed, measuring out three cups of flour for cookies. “i’m aware.”

“hey!” george protested.

“also, i’m curious,” fred continued, placing his mug down, a mischievous glint in his eye. “are you wearing shorts under that top or are you just in your underwear?”

you floundered, dropping the measuring cup into the bowl. you practically blushed to the tips of your toes when george surged forward and slapped his twin upside the head.

“get out, fred! you perverted twat!” george pushed fred out of the kitchen, who was howling with laughter.

“mum! georgie’s hit me! he’s hit me!” fred chortled all the way up the stairs, when molly distantly called.

“george! stop bullying your brother!”

george sputtered as fred’s laughter increased, heard loud and clear all the way from the second landing. he turned to you, his turn to blush as red as his hair.

you pouted at him and opened your arms, inviting him for a hug. he happily obliged and easily picked you up from around the waist. he pinched your butt then, eyes crinkling as he smiled widely at you.

“what possessed you to wear my favorite sweater, hmm?"

“because i’m your favorite girl...?”

he hummed in agreement. “that, you are.”

before he could do or say anything else, you booped his nose with your own. “don’t think i don’t know that you’re wearing my favorite sweater, george weasley.”

he paused, looking away bashfully. “...it smells like you.”

“merlin, i love you.” you whispered, finger tracing down the side of his face.

“not as much as i love you, i bet.” he gently putting you down, one hand moving inside your—his— sweater to rest against your bare hip, the other tilting your chin up. he leaned down as you stood on your tip-toes once more to better reach his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“i will admit that something possessed me when i first saw you in my clothes,” he breathed, eyes looking over every detail of your face. he committed every mole, every freckle to memory as his eyes fluttered closed.

before you followed his lead, you regarded the love of your life with wide eyes, watching as the sunlight from the open window hit him just right, framing him in an almost ethereal glow. as your lips were about to touch, you closed your eyes and anticipated the taste of his lips when a loud bang! ricocheted throughout the kitchen.

you and george’s eyes snapped open simultaneously and, keeping the same position, glared over to where fred was back to leaning against his original position against the counter, not even bothering to be stealthy while stuffing a firework into his back pocket. he teasingly tipped an invisible cap at the couple, winking.

“mum! georgie and [y/n]’s doing the dirty in the kitchen again! mummy!” fred grinned widely, picking up his now warm coffee that he’d left behind. he whistled a tune as he walked out of the kitchen of his own accord, this time exiting through the back door.

george looked back at you, stroking your chin from where his hand never left. “you’re going to have to break me out of azkaban once i murder the bloody bastard.”

you clicked your tongue, playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “’fraid i won’t be able to.”

“why not?” he raised an eyebrow.

“’cause i’ll be right there in the cell next to you for being an accessory to the very same murder.”

he smiled widely, pecking you on the lips before stepping away, moving to take the spot where fred previously was. you frowned at the distance. he gestured at the bowl of flour behind you.

“go on, those cookies won’t make themselves, you know.” george said fondly. “i’ll be right here should you need me to reach a high shelf again.”

[rin-eko]

Chapter Twenty-Seven 

Chapter Warnings/Tags: child abuse, blood, fantasy elements, descriptions of miscarriage, death

masterpost 

There were some wounds that ran so deep they could never be erased. Not through forgiveness, patience or any other noble virtue.

He hadn’t minded the scars when he was very young. Hadn’t thought much of their ugliness or even thought to blame the person that put them there. The pain was nothing compared to his devotion to her. He adored the ground she walked on. Would do anything to win the nurturing hand she would bestow on his head on the barest of occasions.

For several days after Sara cut him, Haruchiyo would sneak into the court she resided in to visit her. He would wait for a while, hiding with bated breath as he watched his mother brush her hair and slide on dangles of sparkling jewellery, laughing with her handmaids.

But that day, she was crying. Haruchiyo had seen his father leave just minutes before, a flurry of servants trailing him before the loud slam of the court’s doors echoed.

He had left Sara’s living space open, and Haruchiyo’s gaze went back to her, watching as she hobbled to sit on a stool in front of the vanity mirror. She hunched over, one hand clutching the vanity as the other covered her mouth to stifle her sobs.

He took several breaths, crushing the delicate flower stems in his small fist. He always chose small white flowers, camelias or anemones.  

“Mama,” he spoke quietly from the wide entranceway, clutching the flowers in front of him as he bowed his head. He was so nervous he struggled to breathe behind the bandages wrapped around the lower half of his face, tiny puffs of warm air escaping his lips.

She froze, her head lifting an inch.

Gathering all his courage, the little prince stepped forward, padding over to her side. He patted her thigh.

“Don’t cry, mama, it’s okay.”

Her head turned to him, pale cheeks streaked with redness.

“Haruchiyo…”

He nodded. “Yes. I brought you flowers, mama. They’re pretty like you.”

Her eyes dropped to the small bunch in his hand.

“Oh. Thank you…”

He smiled when she touched his bandages, lightly stroking over where the fresh wounds were. They hurt and reopened whenever he moved his mouth, but he didn’t mind when she looked at them with warmth.

Her hand suddenly retracted and she stood, gripping his wrist tightly. He winced at the stretch of his arm, willing his feet to keep up when she strode across the room and let him go, causing him to stumble to the floor. White flowers scattered to the ground around him and he quickly went to scoop them up, making sure the petals were unscathed.

Her lips curled. “Why do you keep coming to see me? I have told you how annoying you are, always hovering around. I don’t want you in my eyesight.”

“Mama,” he crawled forward, using one hand to clutch her robes and clamber to a stand while the other held the flowers to his chest.

The swift deliverance of a slap to his cheek stunned him, and he fell backward before he could regain his balance, landing hard on his tailbone.

Dazed, he stared forward, feeling his ears ring.

At that moment, a maid rushed into the room and took in the scene, quickly holding Sara’s arms back as she called for help. Haruchiyo’s eyes flickered up to where Sara loomed above him, shying at the venom in her eyes.

“I have told you,” she breathed hard. “…to keep that child away from me. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to see any of them! Get him away. Take him away from me!”

Takeomi had later told Haruchiyo to stop visiting their mother. He said she was sick and couldn’t get better if he kept trying to see her.

As he grew older, Haruchiyo realised that was just Takeomi’s way of protecting him. And the more distance put between himself and Sara, the more he came to realise how prominent the scars he wore were.

Everyone spoke of the scar-faced prince, whispering behind him how shameful it was to be so marred at such a young age. Had he not been injured, there would be none who could compare to the beauty of the second prince.

And as every word that spilled from their impure lips rooted deep within him, so did his hatred. His mother never tried to approach him or speak to him until he was almost an adult, and by then it was far too late to hope for redemption or forgiveness, though he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a sense of satisfaction every time she tried to touch or speak to him.

The only words she spoke that he wished he had taken to heart, was her warning about the raven-haired beauty he brought to the palace. It was true Sara had seen through Aika the moment Haruchiyo introduced them, but at that time all he could do was appreciate the unimpressed expressions of his parents.

However, his hatred for his mother had never run as deep as his affections for you, and so, he found himself wishing more than anything that he had listened to her when she told him to get rid of Aika. When she told him that what he had found in the commoner woman was not love, but a toxic poison that would slowly kill him.

And because he chose not to heed her words, because he loved so much to see her grovel, you were forced to cling to your life while he watched, raw and exposed, split apart.

…

“Empress? Empress, you can wake up now. It’s okay. You’re safe here,” a familiar voice crooned. Soft palms stroked the side of your face. “Open your eyes. I think you would like to see this place.”

You shot up with a gasp as a vision of dark eyes flashed in front of you, one hand immediately going to the unbearable ache in your stomach.

Only there was no pain. No wound. Not a scratch in sight. You stared down, blinking in confusion as you felt your abdomen. You expected your hand to be covered in blood when you pulled away, however the skin was unmarred. Not even your clothes were torn.

Looking up in confusion, a familiar face swam in your gaze before your eyes focused, though it was still upside down as you lay on what felt like soft grass.

Tofee smiled warmly. “There you are. How do you feel? Rested, I hope. You’ve been laying here for days. The spirits have enjoyed playing with your hair and examining a human body closely.”  

“Fine. I feel completely fine, but what happened? I remember… was that a dream…”

It wasn’t possible. You could feel Aika’s weight on you as if she still had you in her grip. Her pleased smile was haunting as she plunged the dagger between your ribs, slicing through your abdomen.

You gasped, choking as your hands curled into the ground beneath you. Fear licked through your veins, a fierce pounding in your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut, curling your knees to your chest. Had that really been a dream? You hadn’t felt such pain in your life.

“You’re safe. Look around you,” the older woman murmured gently.

You peeked your eyes open, glancing around in surprise.

“It’s beautiful… where are we?” You hadn’t seen such a place before, certainly not in Senin.

The velvety dark blue night sky seemed so close, stars glittering like diamonds almost within reach. You were in a garden of some sort, though the vegetation was unrecognisable. Winding pathways made of flat stones ran in different directions, a small tricking stream flowing around a large willow in the centre of the garden. Orange lanterns lit the space along with large, glowing upside-down flowers, which brightened as soon as you reached to touch the petals.

White spider lilies sprouted in abundance near the stream, swaying lightly with the night breeze. You held your hair over your shoulder as the wind lifted, flaring out the long, thin black skirt you adorned. You didn’t recognise the pretty cloth as your own, but you enjoyed the way it looked. You had never been allowed to wear such dark clothes before. Your whole outfit was black. Dark underclothes with a thin, see-through black garment covering you. Beautiful white, blue, purple and red embroidery was sewn along the hems in swirls of flowers, matching the embroidery on your shoes.

Turning to face away from the wind, your eyes widened at the sight of the large construct. Creeping vines twined up the side of a lavish compound. Cream-coloured stone walls with green tiled rooves and circular wood-framed windows made up the outer walls of the compound, the scent of incense drifting from within.  It reminded you of Tofee’s compound on top of the Kalla Mist Mountains, only stretching far wider and built taller.

You were about to question Tofee again when you caught movement from the corner of your eye, distracting you.

“Is that…” you blinked, seeing if the tiny creature perched on an open flower disappeared. It was almost translucent, though a hint of shimmering blue faded in and out of sight as it moved about the large petals.

“Yes,” Tofee murmured, gesturing around once more. “They are spirits. Your soul has travelled to the demon realm.”

…

Sara was standing over you when Haruchiyo re-entered the room after consulting with Ran and Rindou.

He tensed, frowning as he shut the door slowly behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to visit her. I heard you caught who did this. That ugly woman? I warned you about her.”

Haruchiyo went to your other side to take your hand, gazing down your form to see if anything had changed. It really seemed like you didn’t want to wake up. Whatever you were dreaming, you seemed to want to be there more than with him. The doctor had told him that while the bleeding had stopped, your body and heart were tired and under great stress. That your brain was possibly stopping you from waking up and leaving the safety of your sleep. It was so agonizing he wanted to claw his heart from his chest, dig deep into himself until there was no trace of pain but only the warmth he felt when you smiled at him.

He swallowed, turning his attention to his mother.

“Yes. Aika is in the dungeons with her doctor who obtained the poison.”

Sara’s hand went to her chest as she hiccupped. “I am so relived the person who killed Kin has been found. I have not slept since it happened. When is the execution?”

“It hasn’t been decided yet. I am waiting for the empress to wake up before I issue any orders.”

Sara gasped. “Haruchiyo, she may never wake up. You cannot wait so long.”

Haruchiyo stilled, trying not to squeeze your hand too tightly.

He grunted. “You should go.” She was the last person he wanted to see and as soon as she left he was going to tell the guards outside your room to not let anyone except him enter, even the former empress. Anyone who believed you would never recover had no place by your side.

Sara didn’t move for a while. Eventually, she elegantly stood, stroking a hand down your arm in a movement that made Haruchiyo twitch.

She walked around the bed to place a smooth hand on his shoulder. He fought the urge to flinch, jaw tightening as she stroked his shoulder soothingly.

He had never liked looking at Sara’s hands. He tried not to think about it too much as he grew up, but he knew it was because of what she had done to him when he was a child.

It wasn’t just her hands, though. It was also other little things. The smell of her perfume, the way she walked. He tried not to focus on those things whenever they conversed because they made him nauseous. An itch to scratch his scars always began to nag at him.  

“Haruchiyo, we have both lost much. Let us lean on each other in this time,” she started moving her nails through his tangle of hair. Brushing it was usually a task you took to eagerly, so he stood quickly to move from her hold.

He watched her expression carefully. “I haven’t lost anything. The empress just needs to rest for a while. I would like to be alone with her now. Please ask permission next time before visiting.”

Sara’s face dropped. She bit her lip, looking to the side as she gripped her arm.

“I just… want to be there for you, Haru.”

He hated the twinge of guilt in his stomach. He used to be able to ignore her forlorn expressions, but with your words reverberating in his head, the lines of hatred and love for his mother were so tangled he was at a loss as to how to handle the situation.

“Like you were for me when Kin passed.”

His eyes flared. Turning away to hide his expression, he murmured, “Please, just leave.”

She sighed, doing as he said. Just when she opened the door he called her name once more, a piece of information Nobu had passed on tugging at him.

“I heard you moved the youngest prince into your quarters.”

“Yes.” He could hear her smile. “All of my children have lost their father. I must be there for all of them now, even those I have not met in a long time.”

“I see.”

“I also noticed Y/n’s duties have been piling up. Of course I know how to handle them, so I’ve taken responsibility for now. If… she doesn’t wake up, I can stay on as Empress until further notice.”

“Yes,” he smiled through the tension brimming within him. “Thank you, mother.”

She beamed. “Of course. I would do anything for you, Haruchiyo. You are my child, after all.”

He sighed, deflating slowly after Sara left. Taking a seat next to you once more, he rested his head to your intertwined hands, exhaustion weighing down his shoulders. He had been sleeping like that, sitting next to you. He often dreamed of you waking up and would jerk upright only to find you utterly still as the night twinkled outside the window.

He raised his head when the sound of rain pitter-pattering against the roof met his ears. Outside the window, droplets fell from the sky lightly before growing heavier and heavier until it sounded like a waterfall thundering against the palace roof.

“It is even raining for you,” he said playfully. “The sky knows you love the rain so you must wake up and see it.”

“You have so many scars because of me,” he murmured, tracing the burnt pattern on your hand. “I’m sure some on the inside, too. This one…” he ran his fingers ever so gently over the new wound on your stomach. “I may not have held the blade, but this is my fault, too.” For bringing Aika into the palace, knowing what she was capable of. Deep down, he had known she would retaliate violently against his actions, but he was falling for you so deeply he never wanted to wake up and face the past.

He sighed, staring at you. “Why aren’t you waking up? Are you pretending?” Unwittingly, a sound of anguish left him, quickly stifled by your joined hands lifting to his lips.

“I miss you,” he trembled, shutting his eyes tightly. His chest burned as if his heart was slowly disintegrating.

He was kissing the scar on your hand, murmuring sweet words into your skin when a commotion outside grew closer. A high-pitched, devastated voice cried out, fast footsteps thumping against the floor before the door flung open.

Haruchiyo snapped, standing. “The empress is resting! How dare you just…”

“Sister!” Saeya cried, rushing over to your side with loose, falling robes and dishevelled hair. “You’re hurt! You’re hurt!”

Haruchiyo blinked in astonishment. “You are awake.”

Kia came panting into the room, bracing her hands on her knees. “My apologies, your grace. As soon as she awoke and found out about my lady she ran here, even though she is not fully recovered.”

“It’s fi-”

It happened so quickly, the emperor didn’t believe it at first. One moment he was responding to Kia, and the next his head was flung to the side, cheek stinging as a loud crack echoed throughout the room.

Utter silence followed Kia’s gasp.

Disoriented for a moment, all Haruchiyo could do was stare at the floor as his skin stung, hand raised to his cheek in shock.  

His head slowly raised to focus on Saeya in front of him, trembling with fear and yet still glaring up at him. She held her hand to her chest, breathing heavily in aggravation, looking a mess after being asleep for so long.

Her eyes were filled with tears. “This is your fault!” she cried. “You did this to sister! You hurt her!”

Not only was she not apologising for hitting the emperor, she seemed to be growing more agitated with each passing second.

Haruchiyo’s mouth dried. Of course it was his fault. He knew that. Hearing someone else say it to his face was different, though. He felt as though the shame he held on the inside was painted over his face for the world to see. His eyes lowered. His arms hung by his sides.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured emptily.

“It’s your fault!” Saeya screamed, hitting his chest. “You always make her sad! She doesn’t tell me, but I know she is sad because of you!”

There was nothing she could say that he didn’t already know, so he hung his head and let her scream and thrash against him until she could had exhausted herself and was sliding to the floor in a heap, gripping the bottom of his robes. She choked and hiccupped furiously, struggling as her breath stalled.

Haruchiyo stared at her. “Kia, get doctor Vic,” he ordered quietly.

“Yes, your grace!”

Saeya grabbed his ankles desperately. “Bring her back. Bring her back! My sister is dying!”

“You need to stop screaming. You are struggling to breathe. Your doctor is coming.” Even to his own ears he sounded hollow.

“Bring her back. Bring her back. Bring her back. I won’t breathe until you bring her back,” she threatened. He winced as her nails dug into his legs.

She sat back with a huff, her nose running and tears flowing freely. “I’m serious, crown prince. I won’t breathe until you bring sister back.”

She proceeded to take a deep breath, sitting back on her heels with her cheeks puffed. She looked so ridiculous with her reddened face Haruchiyo wanted to laugh in both disbelief and anger.

“Stop that,” he ordered.

She refused with a stony glare, her cheeks stained and abused from tears.

“Stop. What good will that do? You’re acting like a child,” he reprimanded, feeling as if he, too, was about to snap.

Saeya didn’t respond, though her face gradually discoloured and her head began to shake slightly.

Haruchiyo’s anger rose rapidly, clouding his head. What did she want from him? He couldn’t snap his fingers and bring you back. There was no one who wanted you to wake as badly as he did. He had spent days by your sides praying to the gods for hours upon hours to not take you away. While your sister was asleep, he had been carrying this great pain with him everywhere. He had to listen to every torturous word that came from the imperial physician’s mouth. He had to re-dress your wound every day and be reminded of the unbearable pain you must have gone through. He had to rub ointment over the ugly black stitches made across your heart, feeling as if his had also been torn open brutally.

“What do you want me to do? I’m trying to bring your sister back! I’m trying to make her wake up! Do you think you are the only one in pain? She would be disappointed if she saw how you are acting now. Do you know that?” Desperation made his voice hoarse as he yelled, red eyes spilling over with tears that dripped down his chin.

Something in his words clicked, because she finally released her breath, sobbing and hiccupping, wiping her eyes furiously.

And then, just as Vic entered the room, she threw her head back and started wailing so loud Haruchiyo went to cover your ears for protection, feeling his own ear drums ring. Vic went to her, speaking with quiet, calming words Haruchiyo doubted she could even hear over her own cries.

He guided her hand to the fur blanket you rested on, encouraging her to stroke the soft material. Slowly, her voice grew tired and weak until she was only hiccupping and quietly sobbing for you. Vic took her hand just as she began to bite her nails, helping her stand.

“I will bring her to see the empress once I have checked her over and she has calmed down,” the doctor informed.

Haruchiyo just nodded, watching as Vic and Kia took her from the room, feeling a strange likeness to your younger sister. He had been holding in the same screams since he found you lying a moment from death.  

Tired, he dragged himself back to your side. “Your sister is awake,” he murmured. “You also need to wake up if you want to see her. Even if you hate me now. Even if you blame me, please… I just ask you open your eyes. I won’t ask for anything else. Just open your eyes.”

…

If you weren’t completely in love with your husband, you would admit the man standing in front of you was the most alluring person you had ever seen.  

“You must be Senin’s empress. Tofee has told me much about you. Your grandmother spoke highly of you as well,” he smiled kindly. “How are you feeling?”

You stared. You couldn’t help it. Even his smooth, deep voice was attractive. Entrancing. Your eyes ate every inch of him. Pale skin. Long, silky black hair running down past his back. When he smiled, two glistening white fangs showed on either side of his mouth. He adorned red and black robes with a high collar and matching gloves, thin red ropes twined around his wrists, ankles and waist.

It wasn’t only his face. The aura surrounding him- the way in which he held himself- drew you in. You could not sense any malicious intentions from him, and yet, the vibrating energy prickling off his skin gave the impression of absolute power.

Death. It was like staring at death captured within a human’s body, though there was no possible way he was human. Even with his overwhelming presence pouring into every corner of your body, you got the feeling he was dampening his normal form for your sake. You immediately averted your eyes when they met his, feeling as if you were on a sandy bank, the very ground beneath your feet slipping away and sucking you further and further into an unfamiliar darkness.

You licked your dried lips, struggling to lift your eyes once more. “You’re…”

“I’m Lord of the demon realm. You do not need to be so tense, I will not harm you. I just wish to share a pot of tea. Have a seat.”

You hesitantly perched on the edge of the stone stool across from him, slowly shifting your eyes from his figure around the garden pavilion. You weren’t entirely convinced you weren’t dreaming, especially when he began to pour the tea and his black nails contracted into short, tidy ones as he lifted the teapot.

“I apologise for not introducing myself when you woke up. There were certain matters I had to attend to.”

“I-It’s okay. Um, where’s Tofee?” You were sure you would feel more comforted with her by your side, but she had left you soon after you woke up, telling you to explore while you could.

“She has something important to do. She said she needs to use my scry pool to check something. I don’t know, she comes and goes as she pleases.”  

You posture was stiff as he passed you a cup of cherry blossom tea. You stared into it, watching as the tiny white balls floating on the hot surface blossomed into flowers.

“Thank you.” You tentatively took a sip, melting at the taste. “This is the most delicious tea I’ve ever had.” Your spine relaxed as the warm liquid filled your belly.

He smiled. “I’m glad.” The two of you lapsed into a strangely comfortable silence. You sneaked a peek at him. His head was turned to the side, dark, winged eyes observing the scenery as the wind gently blew through his hair.

“I don’t understand why I’m here,” you finally spoke, placing the teacup down. “Am I… am I dead?”

He looked amused, his lips tilting up in humour, though not in an offending or teasing way. “No.”

“Why not? I thought, after Aika…”

“You would have died if Emperor Haruchiyo hadn’t brought you to Tofee in time. Doctors and medicine are no good for the wounds you received. Tofee knew you had to be brought here.”

“She saved me?”

“No. She just brought you here.”

“S-So I’ll die if I go back to the human world?”

“No. Tofee brought you here. I saved you. You will not die. You can return whenever you wish.”

You bit your lip, smiling slightly. “I don’t know if I want to go back. This place is so beautiful.”

He smiled. “The few that visit feel the same way.”

“The sky looks so close. As if you could touch a star.”

“You may try, but you’ll never be able to,” he stared up at the indigo sky, a touch of melancholy in his gaze. “The sky here goes on infinitely. Even if it appears close, it will never be within reach, nor will the heavens.”

“But isn’t the human world above us? It has to stop eventually,” you protested.

He chuckled in amusement. “It doesn’t quite work that way. This realm can be said to be below the human world, but it is also a parallel world of its own.”

“But aren’t humans sent here?”

“Yes, very briefly before they move onto their next life. So briefly they will have no knowledge of it.”

“But you said my grandmother spoke of me with you.”

“Yes,” he poured more tea. “I enjoy speaking with gifted humans. Kai often visited here, just as Tofee does.”

You wished you could have been with her. You could see her gentle face so clearly amongst the spirits and strange flowers.  

“She’s in a good place now, and she loved you very much. She talked about you constantly, I always wondered what kind of person you were.”

You looked back to him.

“Are you disappointed?” In comparison to him, you felt very small. How did you appear in the eyes of someone who represented death itself? A lowly, insignificant human, you supposed.

He laughed heartily. “No. Not at all. But I have to say, you seem sad. You are drawn by the beauty of this place, but your heart yearns for more.”

Yes, your heart ached for its home. As beautiful as your surroundings were, you missed Haruchiyo. You wanted to be back with him, enjoying your quiet moments together.

“Ah,” he guessed. “Love? I understand.”

You pressed a hand to your heart, feeling it beat steadily, and then faster at the thought of him.

“How long have you ruled the demon realm? Are you alone here?” you questioned.

“Not alone, exactly. Many magical creatures reside here. Ghosts and spirits. And Tofee and her friends visit. As for how long I’ve been the Lord of demons… it’s been so long I’ve lost count. Thousands of years now, I’m sure.”

“What?” you whispered. “You’ve lived for so long by yourself?” You would have gone mad from loneliness.

“Indeed. It’s not something I dwell over often, so it’s fine.”

“What about your family?”

“I was born in the heavens. When my older brother came of age he ruled the celestial realm and sent me to the demon realm.”

“How could he leave you down here alone for so many years? What kind of brother is he?”

He chuckled. “Family does not mean the same thing in the ascended realms as it does in the human world. Besides, it’s a responsibility that must fall on the shoulders of a royal family member. I always knew there was a chance this would be my duty, and I’ve committed evil acts upon my brother that are deserving of being trapped down here. Do not worry over me. It’s not necessary.”

“It’s still wrong,” you muttered, stewing.

“Do not cry or fret over me. I have lived this life for so long I barely think of it anymore. This can be your payment to me for saving your life. Do not worry about me. Live your human life well.”

“Thank you for saving me,” you smiled down at your tea. “I never realised until now how scared I am of dying.”

“There is no need to thank me over something so simple. Tofee is a friend of mine, so of course I would grant her such an easy favour.”

“But is it okay to have saved a human from death? Will it not interfere with the cycle of life?” You had been taught by your grandmother about how people passed onto their next lives. Endlessly living without knowing it, only a select few ever ascending to the heavens or achieving true peace within themselves.

The demon lord shrugged with his palms facing up, sticking his tongue out as if he were taunting someone.

“Your life will be fine, but the heavens probably won’t like it. Oh, well.”

Shocked over his surprising nonchalance, all you did was nod slowly, still a touch concerned.  

“You do not need to worry. You are a living, breathing person. I wouldn’t save your life if I thought it would just immediately be taken away by the heavens to even the scales. Your life has become my responsibility, so I will make sure you are taken care of.”

You frowned. “Do you do this often?”

He shook his head. “No. Gifted humans are incredibly rare, ones as talented as Tofee even more so. Most wouldn’t even know how to travel to the demon realm and I almost never go out of my way to save humans from their fate.”

“I see.”

He hesitated for a beat, watching you sip your tea.

“Before you return to your worrying husband, there is something I must tell you.”

Your head tilted, curious. “What is it?”

His eyes darkened. “You were on your last breaths of life when Tofee brought you to me. Had you been dead, I wouldn’t have been able to revive you- at least not for a long while- and you would have been changed almost beyond recognition from living in the demon realm for so long.” He sighed. “Do you understand what I am saying? I cannot bring back the dead, especially if they are mere humans and especially if they are not even fully formed humans.”

You nodded. “Yes, I understand. I am very grateful.”

His eyes fixed on you impassively as a sudden cool breeze sent a chill to your bones. “A weak human resided within you, dead even before you reached my realm. Something like this is beyond my power, empress. Do you understand?”

…

Haruchiyo silently continued to bathe you, washing around your wound carefully and then from your feet up your legs. It was a task he enjoyed because he got to touch you, and even while you didn’t respond, he found himself talking to you endlessly, about anything. Sometimes Senin’s affairs and sometimes the most insignificant or ridiculous thoughts that came to his mind.

It became his way of reminding himself that you still lived. You were still breathing, your heart beating beneath his fingertips. If not for those signs of life, you were indistinguishable from a corpse.

He got to your thighs, dazed by the slow, rhythmic movements of the cloth moving up and down your body. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the red liquid coating his fingers until your body stiffened and jerked.

His heart jumped.

“Y/n?” he murmured, rushing to cup your face, finally noticing the blood on his fingertips. He pulled away to stare at his hand, blinking as if the red was a part of his imagination. He rubbed his fingers together, the liquid thick and sticky.

His heart lurched. He quickly went to check the dressing on your wound, thinking you were bleeding again, but the patch was dry and unsullied from being freshly changed.

His stomach dropped when he ran his hand over your thighs again and found a pool of blood seeping around your lower half, heavily staining the sheets below.

You moaned and shifted uncomfortably again, brows twitching in discontent.

“It’s okay, my love,” he soothed, stroking your sweaty forehead as panic set in him. Blood began leaking off the soaked sheets, dripping onto the floor.  He couldn’t see a wound, but the liquid kept flowing from you, your inner thighs stained and writhing until he finally realised where it was coming from.

“Wait for me,” he murmured, quickly rushing to the doorway to look out for anyone.

“Where is Tofee? That damned woman,” he muttered. The woman had disappeared almost immediately after he had brought you to her after the attack. She was one of the only people he knew that could help and yet she was gone in a time of great need.

“Nobu!”

The man was around the corner and kneeling before the emperor in a flash. “Yes, your grace?”

“Get me the doctor now!”

“Yes!”

Haruchiyo went back to your side quickly, a new wave of terror crashing through him when he saw your eyes leaking and felt your hot forehead. You couldn’t come down with a fever, not when your body was already in such a weak state. It would be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Your lips parted on a pained cry and your entire body convulsed.

He felt completely devastated as he watched you, wishing his hands were capable of doing anything. He had held such a high title his whole life, and yet when it came to matters of nature he was utterly helpless.  

He wished to take away whatever pain you were feeling. He would take it on himself, no matter how awful. As long as you didn’t feel a drop of fear or hurt for the rest of your life, he would shoulder everything. He prayed for that silently, for whatever hurt you felt to fall upon him.

“What has happened?” the doctor quickly followed Nobu in, the servant shutting the door firmly and kneeling by the wall.

Your chapped lips parted as your body twitched, a stressed frown forming between your brows.

“She is bleeding from here. There is too much blood, but she didn’t start bleeding until just now.”

“Move aside,” the doctor murmured, taking your pulse.

Haruchiyo fought the urge to slam his fist into the wall when the doctor lifted your robe to exam your private area, pacing to the other side of the room. However, a pained moan from your lips instantly brought him back to your side, brushing his possessiveness away and prompting him to take your hand. He stroked your hair, lips murmuring soothing words against your forehead.  

The doctor stepped back after a minute, frowning.

“What is it?” Haruchiyo snapped. “Does she have another wound we were not aware of?”

“No,” the doctor sighed. “Your majesty, the empress was pregnant. She is in the midst of a miscarriage. Her body is in the process of expelling the traumatised fetus.”

He stared at the doctor in horror. You had truly been pregnant? He had forgotten it was a possibility as soon as he had found your body in your marriage room that night. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again.

“P-Pregnant?”

The doctor nodded grimly. “Yes. I can help along the process with medicine, however it will be especially delicate considering the empress’ current state.”

“Wait,” Haruchiyo quickly grabbed the doctor’s wrist, frowning deeply. His heart beat furiously in his chest, forcing fast breaths from his lungs.

“What do you mean you will use medicine? What are you going to do?”

The man’s head tilted. “Help the empress dispel the fetus. She will be in great pain now, so I must do this quickly.”

“No!” Haruchiyo had protested before he even knew it. He breathed hard. “You… can’t get rid of it.”

The doctor frowned. “Your majesty, if it stays in her womb for much longer, she will get infected and then she will surely die. The fetus is already dead. It cannot be revived.”

“But that’s our…!” he stopped in the midst of yelling, slowly dropping his head to stare at the floor in disbelief. It was already gone? Why was such a terrible thing happening to you? He could understand the punishments being inflicted upon him, but why was it you that had to bear the pain of his past mistakes?

He covered his mouth, terror and disbelief crowding him. He shook his head, taking a step back. How was he supposed to tell you your baby would never be born? A perfect mixture of both of you, a tiny, defenceless child that knew no bad or good but would certainly know it’s mother’s love from the moment it opened its eyes in the world.

“I… I can’t tell her,” he breathed, taking another step back. He could see the blood that would drain from your face, the despair that would wash over you. No wonder you didn’t want to wake up.

“Your grace,” Nobu spoke from directly behind him. “The doctor needs your help.”

Haruchiyo’s eyes snapped from your face to where the doctor was a blurry figure.

“Yes..?” he rasped.

“The empress is burning up. I would like you to press dampened towels to her forehead and keep feeding her water while I assist here.”

“Are you sure it’s gone?” he croaked.

The doctor’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry, your majesty. Yes, it is gone. But for now, we must do this quickly if we are to hope the empress will wake up.”

…

You fever broke at midnight. The room was silent and dark as your eyes slowly blinked open.

“I’m sure we will meet again.”

Your head turned to the man sleeping soundly to your side.

“Haruchiyo,” you rasped softly. A wave of pain rolled through you and you quietly sobbed. It felt as though you had been clobbered at the back of your head. Every part of your body ached. Even breathing took effort.

“Haruchiyo,” you cried, hot tears streaming down your temples.

He jerked awake with a start, and you cried all the harder for seeing those familiar, liquid blues glowing.

“Oh. Is this a dream?” he mumbled.

“No,” you sobbed.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured, though he was also crying. Tears flowed freely as he touched his forehead to yours. “Even if this is a dream, please don’t cry. Just let me have this for a little longer.”

“It’s not a dream,” you shook. “Please hug me.”

He had dreamed of hugging you many times since you left him, and each time you would fade from his arms as if you had never truly been there.

But when he took you into his arms once more, he felt your fingers digging into his back, gripping his clothes desperately. He felt your sobs roll through him, your heart beat against his chest.

“You…”

You trembled and clutched him even tighter, burying your face into his neck.

His heart froze for a beat, and just as he was tentatively wrapping his arms around you further, it began to beat so frantically it hurt.

“You’re here,” he cried, face a picture of pain over your shoulder. Such fierce relief rolled through him he felt drowned in it, unsure of which part of you he wanted to touch first.

He ended up hugging you to him, cupping the back of your head as his eyes closed, relishing the feel of your nails digging into him.

Your wounds ached as they pressed against his body, but you could hardly care, your heart thumping rapidly as if about to burst from your chest.

“You’re awake,” he breathed. An exhale of relief was interrupted by a sob. He pulled away from you, only to cup your face, his lips parted as he gazed into you.

His warmth was heavenly, his lips against yours utter bliss when he kissed you, tasting your combined tears.

“I missed you,” you breathed hard when you separated, still so close you could feel his breath against your skin.

“Me too,” he sobbed, holding you tighter. “I missed you so much.”

…

“I forgot to tell you, your sister threw a tantrum as soon as she awoke and saw what happened to you. She slapped me,” Haruchiyo tattle-taled as soon as Saeya left the room after lunch the next day. His tone indicated that he fully expected you to do something about your sister’s behaviour.

You just laughed quietly. “Is that right? I’ll scold her for you.”

“I was shocked. No one except you has slapped me since I was a child,” he mused.  

“No one else would dare.”

Kia entered the room with a tray of fruits and small sandwiches, placing it down next to you before going to leave.

Haruchiyo slowly manoeuvred you into a seating position, and though you tried to hide the pain, your wince clearly caught your husband’s attention.

“It hurts? I’ll call the doctor.”

“No,” you gripped his wrist. “It’s just because I haven’t moved in a while. Remember the doctor already said this morning that I can sit up and walk around.”

“He did not say you could walk around. He said bed rest for at least a week.”

You grumbled under your breath, irritated he had caught that. You had been sleeping for days, anymore rest and you may as well have died.

“Let me feed you,” Haruchiyo murmured when you went to grab a fork. You hummed, opening your mouth happily for him to feed you a juicy piece of golden peach.  

He caught some juice that dribbled from your lips, swiping it away with his thumb and bringing it to his mouth to suck.

“Are you tired?” he murmured when you nodded off with a sandwich in your hand.

“My mind is not, but I can’t seem to keep my eyes open.”

“You’re still recovering. Your body is very weak. You should go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to.” In truth, you just wanted to lie down and stare at him for as long as you could. It felt like an eternity had gone by since you had see him, and so just looking at him and speaking with him was such a pleasure.

“What do you want to do?” he raised a brow, placing your food to the side.

“Can we just talk for a while? Tell me what has happened since I have been unconscious.”

“Hmm, well Ran has taken charge of the council while I stayed by your side. I also had the painting of you hung in my study.”

You sighed. He had been meticulously weaving around the big questions that hung heavy in the room and while you were grateful at first, you knew avoidance wouldn’t solve anything in the end. “You know that is not what I meant, Haruchiyo.”

He stiffened, biting his bottom lip as a little furrow formed between his eyebrows. You wanted to soothe him, but your body was so languid you couldn’t even lift your arm to press your fingers to the wrinkles forming. Instead, your thumb lightly stroked over his palm. He stared at the small movements for a few moments before raising his head.

“We don’t need to talk about that until you’ve fully recovered. Speaking of which, until everything is sorted out, you are not to leave this room. The only ones who know you are awake are Ran, Rindou, Nobu, Saeya, Kia and your doctor. It needs to be kept that way.”

You frowned in confusion. “Why? Where is Aika?”

He released a breath. “In the dungeons. She was originally put there for poisoning your drink on the day of prayer, but now that it is certain she hurt you, she will be put to death quickly. After you woke up and told me happened, I sent Nobu to check Aika’s room and he found the ruby dagger you described. Your nail marks were also found on Aika’s arms from when you fought against her. No one can deny she is responsible for your injury.”

You took time to think about that, slowly turning his words over in your mind. However, the more you thought about it, the more you felt that something was out of place. A detail nagged at the back of your mind and you tried to grasp it quickly, but it was gone before you could remember what it was, forcing you to focus back on your husband.

“Why are only a few people allowed to know I am awake if Aika is already locked up? What harm can she do from the dungeons?”

And then it clicked. You inhaled quickly.

“She said it wasn’t her…” Wisps of memory from the night Aika attacked you drifted through your mind.

Haruchiyo straightened, gaze pin-focused on your mouth.

“If they had just done their job right I wouldn’t have to do this. I waited. I have waited for days for them to make another move but I can’t stand it anymore…”

You frowned, slowly murmuring, “She said she was waiting for the person who poisoned the wine on the day of prayers to make another move, but she couldn’t wait any longer so she wanted to take matters into her own hands, that’s why she attacked me.”

He searched your face before quietly speaking. “You were very sick that night. Are you sure you are remembering correctly?”

“Yes, of course,” you responded fervently. “She wasn’t lying, Haruchiyo. She had no reason to lie to a person she thought would be dead quickly.”

He stared at you blankly, and you were struck with the sudden realisation that he already knew everything you were saying. It was there in his unruffled expression, as if he were merely checking fact as opposed to uncovering new information.

“You are hiding something from me, aren’t you?” you recoiled. “There is something important you haven’t said.”

He lifted his hand to cup your face but you quickly batted it away, anger brimming within you. Your hands fisted the blankets on your lap.

“Tell me what it is, Haruchiyo. There is someone else trying to hurt me, isn’t there? That is why no one else is allowed to know I am awake.”

He hesitated and you growled under your breath, irritated.

“If you don’t tell me, I will leave this bed and find out myself.”

He went quiet and you huffed, moving down the bed. You fully intended to keep your word, but he quickly stopped you, pressing his lips to your forehead and stroking your back.

“Okay, my love. I will explain everything, but please stay here in bed so you don’t get hurt.”

“You will tell me everything.”

“Yes, yes. Of course.”

You sighed, leaning back again. Why was it so difficult to just say what needed to be said? As much as you appreciated him trying to protect you, you were more afraid with an unknown threat looming over your life.

You watched as he went to the door and spoke to the guard outside. You couldn’t hear their words, but he returned to your side quickly to tell you he had called for Kia.

“Why have you called for her?”

“She is the one who brought me information regarding what happened on the day of prayer,” he looked down. “I will admit I did not trust her words at first- or rather I didn’t want to- but Ran and Rindou have been investigating and now with your words I believe she may be right.”

You couldn’t place his expression. He looked sad and amused all at once. Perhaps the only way to describe him was tortured.

He clicked his tongue, grimacing as a rough hand ran through and gripped his hair.

“Haru…”

His gaze snapped up, lips quick to reassure you.

“It’s okay, my love. It will be fine. I won’t allow anything to happen to you again.”

You shook your head, pulling him closer. You weren’t worried about that so much as when the last time he had properly slept was. His palms skimmed up your biceps, and you felt the faintest of tremors in them.

You stared at him, concern shown across your features.

“Are you-”

A polite knock on the door interrupted you, Kia stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

“Your grace,” she bowed. “You called for me.”

“Yes, I would like you to tell the empress about the conversation you overheard while she was asleep. Don’t leave out any details.”

“Of course,” Kia licked her lips. You sat up straighter to listen intently, though you kept a hold of Haruchiyo’s hand.

“You see, my lady, I have told you before that the town I grew up in is very poor. Most of the families there cannot afford lavish things and so when the children grow up they travel to the capital for work so they can send money home. Many of us even work here in the palace, much like my brother and myself.”

You nodded, prompting her to continue as you already knew her words.

“Because our town is small, most people know each other, and I am well acquainted with all the servants in the palace that come from my hometown. Recently, there is a servant whose family has become rich despite them being poor for as long as I have known them. When I asked him about it, he said his father got lucky in his gamblings, but I thought it was strange because the last I heard his father was very sick and not even allowed to leave the house.”

She swallowed. “It is the same boy who was serving the wine on the day of prayers. When I walked past the new empress dowager’s private chambers I heard the two of them speaking in hushed voices. I truly didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I thought it strange that they even knew each other considering his job is to serve the one of the young princes.”

Your heart slowly started beating in your ears, a sick feeling of dread climbing through you. You wished to stop her next words, hoped that by not hearing them it would make them less true.

“He was panicked and the empress dowager was reassuring him. They were speaking of the wine served and he seemed worried that he would be discovered. I saw her handing him jewellery and she told him that was the last she was giving him. I think it was compensation for...” her eyes lowered in shame for the acts that weren’t hers. “…for what was done on that day of prayer.”

Haruchiyo began stroking your back in soothing circles as if to remind you to breathe, but the knot in your stomach continued to tighten as you stared at Kia, anxious for her next words.  

“Miss, I think… I think Lady Sara was the one who tried to harm you.”

Taglist: 

@soushswag @crown5 @angelmitsuri @c4tboyxiao @azusachna @luka-ali @whore-for-eddie @rinrinfoxy @multistan-247 @7inaa @emilymikado @user82014069991​ @blvkeverest @magentaviolette​ @kooromin​ @night-shadowblood-writes2​ @littlemochi​ @xeno-fond @kousnana​ @pinksilk​ 

[cqsuanla]

fury shakes the rafters

pairing: dark!nat/f!reader

summary:

Aside from the cannibalism, Nat is mostly the same. Still ridiculously strong and stupidly hardheaded. And that face — flinty, cold, mean. Nat’s always been mean. 

(inspired by jennifer’s body)

additional notes: mommy kink, dom/sub, bloodplay(?), dacryphilia, uhh pussy spanking, choking, unhealthy relationship, terrible aftercare

title from a song suggested by an anon: nobody by the crane wives

(ao3)

The light in the stairwell flickers, but it doesn’t make a difference, dim and dirty as it is. It buzzes distantly in your ears. You’re too focused on taking the steps two at a time to notice. You hold your groceries to your chest and fish your keys out of your pocket. If you were strong like Nat, you might just have knocked the door clean of its hinges with the force of your body. Instead, it crashes loudly into your wall, and you nearly fall on your face from the momentum. 

In a bid to gain purchase on your wall, you sweep your coat rack over, and you stumble over it. The clatter makes you wince — you hope she’s in a good mood. It’s hard for her to process stimuli when she’s weak. You scramble onto your hands and knees, shoving scattered boxes and cans into the grocery bag. 

Then, the rhythmic thud-thud of footsteps. You pause, exhaling as your eyes close. 

“Drink?” in a monotone. 

Yikes. You open your eyes, biting your lip. Steel-toed boots. You’ve told Nat a million times that this is a shoes-off apartment. She never listens, and you never argue more. Nat stays; she’s the only one who’ll stay. You can’t drive her away. 

Her right boot rises, scraping against the floor, and you flinch. It just kicks a cereal box away so it can nudge at the shopping bag. The way she says your name, evenly, firmly, has you blinking rapidly, has your hands automatically shooting to the bag, following her prompt. Thank god the bottles are fine. You don’t know what you’d do if they had shattered. 

You wiggle a beer out of the pack, and only then do you dare to make eye contact. 

“Hi,” you murmur. 

She gives you a brief glance, impassive, before snatching the bottle from your hand and returning to her spot on the armchair. “That fucking coat rack.” She flicks the cap off your side table, grungy and scratched up for this very reason. The cap bounces off the wall and disappears under the couch. “Just move it further in. You never listen.” 

You did, weeks ago. You don’t say so. 

The coat rack came with the place, and it was nice, so you refused to get rid of it. Nat hated it, hated that it was so close to the door in your already bite-sized entryway, but never enough to throw it out herself. But you did move it because her complaints were valid, and you wanted her to like being here with you, living here with you. Anyway, she stopped complaining afterwards. Not that you think she noticed — you supposed it was a minor inconvenience to her, the way a fly was, annoying when it was in your face but non-existent once it stopped bothering you. 

Quietly, you move your groceries to the kitchen island, putting everything but your new medical supplies away. There are dirty plates in the sink, which you’ll wash after you make yourself dinner. You wonder what she’s eaten – you’d just bought two new steaks, but Nat likes a bowl of strawberry ice cream now and then.

The TV channel switches in the background. Nat snorts, and you peek around the wall to catch a report on the gruesome series of murders that have been happening lately. People in the neighbourhood hardly went out anymore, too afraid of the dark now. It would scare you too if you weren’t well aware you’d never fall victim. Nat was with you, after all, and you were with her. 

You would be with her for as long as she’d let you. So, what if she was the monster in the dark? So what? It was Nat. Your Nat. She came back to you, talked to you, fucked you. It’s not like she was disembowelling you in some grimy alleyway. She kept most of the violence away from you because she cared. Anyway, like everyone else, she had to eat. You couldn’t fault her for that. 

You’re pulling the gauze out of its packaging when Nat scoffs loudly at the news. They must’ve insulted her because she clicks the TV shut, practically inhales half her bottle and flings the remote onto the couch. 

Then, she sets her sights on you, meek behind the counter, and raises an eyebrow. “Honey, the hall’s a mess. Clean it up.” 

You frown. “You’re still hurt.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll eat tomorrow, and it’ll be fine.” 

You don’t think so. The longer Nat doesn’t eat, the worse it gets. It’s how she’s in this mess in the first place. Nat’s ethereal after a feeding, next to omnipotent. But the guy she picked to eat last week turned out to be some sort of track star because he had booked it at the first sign of trouble, and she’d been forced to retreat when the sirens started blaring. The day after that, she picked a local thug as her next meal, and she’d been caught off guard by the switchblade. So, here she is: slumped on your couch and stitched up sloppily. 

Her hair is limp, skin wane and dry, and in a bad enough mood that you can basically feel it every time you’re within a two-meter radius of her. 

Her physical weakness emboldens you a little, makes you think you can get away with a bit of stubbornness. You pick up the gauze and tape and round the corner. A car speeds by, high beam making Nat’s eyes glint a deep green in the dark. The green follows you the whole way until she has to crane her head around to watch you slip her tank top off a shoulder. 

Those eyes weren’t like that before when you first started dating. You don’t mind the changes, though. Aside from the cannibalism, Nat is mostly the same. Still ridiculously strong and stupidly hardheaded. 

“You don’t want to listen?” she asks, almost conversationally. 

You know better. You clench and unclench your fist. Shakily, you lift it and tuck a hair behind Nat’s ear, hoping foolishly that it will placate her. 

“Baby,” says she, like a gentle mother to a misbehaving child, “you should really listen.” 

You trace the bumps of her stitches, staring hard at her shoulder so you won’t have to see that face — flinty, cold, mean. Nat’s always been mean. 

“At least answer me.” 

“No, Nat,” you mutter, undoing the bandages on her bicep. “I don’t want to listen.”

To her credit, she lets you fix her up. Methodically, silently, you clean her wounds and rewrap them in new bandages. She doesn’t get in the way unless it’s to take a swig of her drink. 

When you’re done with her arms and back, you move to her front. She’s got an ugly gash on her calf, bruised midway from where the man had kicked her bleeding leg. You imagine this is causing her the most pain, not just physically. Nat’s not great with sitting still. She’s independent to a fault, enjoying control to the point that it’s probably some sort of diagnosable complex, and this restriction on her mobility has her restless and irritated. 

Looking down at her, at the space between her knees, you wonder if she’ll cooperate with you. The last time you tried to clean her leg, she’d torn your duvet in half and has since refused to let you look at it. But Nat tilts her head, coy, and gestures toward the space in front of her with her bottle. 

“Scared?” she whispers.

You glance at her face just in time to catch her tongue tracing the jagged end of a canine. Mutely, you shake your head. She smiles wide.

“Liar.”

Of course. You’re always scared of her. For her, too. But you don’t think it matters; it doesn’t change anything. You just want to help her, be good for her. Anyway, she’s trying to get a reaction out of you. You refuse to take the bait, raising your eyebrows and wiggling the bandages in your hand.

“Fine.” With a roll of her eyes, she parts her legs. 

As if dealing with a feral animal, you move slowly, cautiously, afraid to make sudden movements lest she starts getting violent. You squat down and reach for the cuff of her sweatpants. 

“Ah, ah.” She slides the leg back, staring down her nose at you. You pause. “Kneel, baby.” 

Her eyes — did the ring of green get thinner? Your lips part, anticipation beginning to seep into your body, and you comply. Once you’re settled, looking up at her, she makes that same careless gesture with her bottle. A go-ahead. 

As you work, she shifts to put her beer on the table and then combs a hand into your hair. You tense, eyeing her nervously, but she only watches you, imperious, intense, and remains silent. Nevertheless, you pick up the pace, tossing the antiseptic aside and winding the gauze around her pale calf. 

She’s startlingly warm under your hands. Ever since… whatever happened to her — she wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details — she’s run hotter than ever. You can’t sleep under a blanket with her anymore unless you’re shirtless; the heat would be unbearable. Not that Nat has any complaints about that. 

“All done,” you murmur. 

The lack of reaction from Nat gives you the courage to lean forward and press a sweet kiss to the top of her knee. The hand in your hair rewards you with a gentle scratch, and you can’t help melting into a smile. She’s still got that air of arrogance about her when you look up at her, but she’s not glaring. Which is why it comes entirely as a surprise when she clenches a fistful of hair in her hand, yanking your head back, and slaps you clean across the face with her other hand. 

You take the full brunt of her palm with a cry, almost toppling over were it not for the grip on your hair. Your cheek burns, and so does your eyes. Mostly from pain, partly from the shock of it, maybe a little from shame when you realize you’re getting wet from the rough treatment. 

Nat tuts. “Crying already?” 

You imagine you look pretty pathetic on your knees for her, eyes glassy.

“Don’t give me those eyes, baby; you know I can’t help myself.” 

“I just wanted to help.” 

“I know,” Nat says gently, tipping your head back again so you can see the false sincerity on her face. “You can fix this, you know?” 

Your eyebrows furrow, thoughts racing a mile a minute to puzzle out what she means. 

“Don’t think so hard. You’ll hurt yourself. I’ll show you how, dumb baby,” she coos as she nudges your chin with the knuckle of her finger, and you can’t help flushing deeply at that. Then, she offers a hand, and you take it, and she tugs you up into a straddle on her lap. “Come here.” 

You instinctively wind your arms around her neck, clinging on. Beneath you, she tenses and lets out a low rumbling sound that resonates deep in her chest. You inhale sharply. 

Teeth. Sharpened to deadly points. Poised over your neck. Nat’s breath comes short and hot against your skin, and her tongue, when it peeks out, drags wetly across your skin. 

This has happened once before; the first night she’d come back changed. Like before, she noses at your flushed skin, teasing you with the possibility of damage, and trails her teeth down to your traps. Back then, she hadn’t bitten you. She won’t now, you think, you hope. 

She sighs again, hovering over the meat of your shoulder and prodding her teeth against you. Doesn’t break the skin. 

“Don’t make it worse for yourself. Are you scared?” 

This time, you nod. Nat’s lips curve into a smile, and her hold on your thighs tighten enough to bruise. 

“You should listen, sweetheart,” she says against you. The front of her teeth scrapes over you when she speaks, leaving red marks behind. “I hurt you less when you’re good. Don’t you know?”

“How can you be in the mood?” you wonder, burying your face into the crook of her neck. “You’re half dead.”

“Barely.”

It would take a lot more to kill Nat like this. Anyway, how could you be in the mood when your girlfriend’s cut up like this? 

Nat stands abruptly, ignorant to your yelps and complaints, and dumps you back onto the couch in quick succession. Before you can even register what’s happened, she’s yanked your bottoms down to your ankles and has climbed between your legs. 

Even after that, you don’t get the chance to speak. She wraps her hand around your throat and pins you to the cushions. You grab onto her wrist.

Her body bears down, and you break into a sweat, in small part due to nerves, some part because she’s shoving her hand up your shirt to grab roughly at your bra, but mostly because she’s near scalding. You’re convinced her blood runs at a constant boil now. You’ve grown to love the heat, though. With her, pleasure comes white-hot, and you’d want it no other way. 

“Nat-”

“No,” she growls, and you get an eyeful of her monstrous teeth. She flexes both hands, cutting off your airway and squeezing your breast painfully. You whimper, wound tight as a coil. “Listen to me, baby.”

You look at her through hazy eyes. 

“Those eyes again. God, I love you like this.” Foolishly, your heart clenches at those words. She rucks your shirt up and claws her nails down your front. Beads of blood bloom from the thin scratches she leaves behind. “You’re beautiful when I hurt you.”

Her hand nearly crushes your throat closed, but then she releases you, and you suck air in desperately. Your hands, shaken off her arm, reach for the sides of her head. “Nat,” you croak, tasting the salt from your tears on your lips. “Nat.”

She shakes her head, descending on your chest. It hurts – badly. “Be good for mommy.”

“Mommy,” you gasp out, arching into her mouth. She ignores your pert nipples, electing instead to lick and suck at the burn between your breasts. “Please, please.”

“Shut up,” she hisses. Oh, her teeth are still out. “Hands above your head.”

You obey, another sad sound crawling out of your abused throat. 

The dark pits of her eyes drink in the sight of you, face crumpled in pain and need. A thumb wipes up the last of your blood, and she delights in smearing it across your cheek. 

“Messy baby, clean up after yourself. It’s basic,” she chides, thumb still rubbing at your face as if she were fixing up some runny mascara. “Be good now.”

You don’t dare to speak, just nod and look pleadingly up at her. Your core aches from neglect. 

She makes quick work of that, reaching down to feel the slick between your thighs. Humming, she smirks and very deliberately rubs her middle finger over your clit. You jerk up into her, mouth falling open even as you strangle your moan. 

“I could do anything to you, and you’d still want me.” 

Again, you nod. 

“Where did my little liar go?” she baits. You shake your head. “Say ‘thank you, mommy, for letting me breathe.’”

It takes you a moment to gather the brain cells and say: “Thank you, mommy.”

Her smile widens, teeth back to normal. “Again, for the lesson.”

“Thank you, mommy.”

She brings her hand down on your cunt, full strength. You scream, jolting away from her. Well, you would have if she hadn’t pressed you down by the chest, entirely uncaring about the wound she’d left there. Tears leak out the sides of your eyes, trickling into your hairline. 

“Thank me for that too,” she demands.

“Thank you,” you cry around a hiccup. 

One more spank, and another, and another. Your legs kick uselessly against the cushions, body twisting after every awful smack.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Your hole clenches around nothing, slick leaking onto the couch. Then, two fingers dip into you, and Nat thrusts them up hard and fast. She’d shoved them in on a contraction, and it hurts for a second before she’s curling her fingers into the velvet of your walls. 

She makes a pleased sound. “Tight as always. Makes me want to tear you in half, baby.”

You stare up at the ceiling. “Th-” She starts up a fast pace, digging her fingertips into your front wall. “Thank you!”

Her cheek rests on your chest, listening to the thunder of your heart. “We should try that big one.” Impossibly, your heart rate quickens at the thought, and you manage to shake your head. She laughs, the sound sharp and cruel, and music to your ears. “Maybe another time then.”

She sits up then, still working her fingers into your cunt, and moves her other hand to your mons. She pets gently over your labia, a sharp contrast to the vicious pace she’s keeping up. Your head spins. 

“My baby,” she breathes, “good enough to fucking eat.”

But she parts your folds to press her fingers into your clit, circling them once, twice, thrice, and you’re so close. So desperately close. 

She leans down, near delicate in her movements, and licks into your mouth. You taste copper and beer and the faintest sweetness. Urgently, you try to kiss back. 

If she’s mean, she’d pull back and deny you the chance to come with her mouth on yours. 

She must think that you’ve suffered enough, though, because she rubs her thumb at your clit and drives her fingers deeper into you, and you push up as far as you can into her body with a scream. You’re swallowed in molten heat, pleasure stripping away at you until you’re just bones on the couch. 

When you come to, Nat’s pulling out some bandages for your chest. You’re too tired to do or say anything, forced into silence by her dominance. 

She smiles at you, still not kind, but it doesn’t look bestial like before. Maybe just self-satisfied. She strokes your sweaty hair as she fixes you up, shushing you if you moan quietly from aftershocks or pain. You are in a lot of pain, bruised and scratched up as you are.

“Good girl,” she says when she’s done. 

Finally, you muster the energy to grab her hand and say, “Thank you.”

She lets you hold on for a few seconds before pulling away. “Sure.”

You wish she’d hold you for a bit, but you don’t vocalize it. She’s been through too much in the last few days; you shouldn’t burden her—

“Don’t be fucking needy,” she says, suddenly and harshly. Your face must have given you away. 

“I don’t mean to be,” you mutter, bringing your arm up to cover your eyes. Feeling stupid, feeling mad that you feel stupid, you say: “It would just be nice if you’d stay for a bit.”

A hand grabs your arm, yanking it away from your head, and you’re treated to a view of her scowl. “Where would I go?”

You didn’t mean it that way, but you don’t know how to get out of this hole you’ve dug yourself. “I-I don’t know.”

Out of nowhere, her hand slaps your cunt again, overstimulated, sore, puffy. You groan, curling in on yourself and hugging your knees to your chest. 

“Fuck, Nat.”

She takes the opportunity to sit down on the end of the couch, where your legs once were. The TV turns back on, and you hear her take a sip from her can of beer. “Clean up the hall later.”

At least she stayed.

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Can u write an au where carol’s cat (goose) keeps sneaking into fem!reader’s apartment and so carol and reader communicate with each other thru notes they put on goose’s collar and they eventually fall in love (((:::::::

Goose's Best Friend

Summary: After a stranger's cat injured in your apartment one night, you decide to attach a short note to its collar to give your apologies. They lead to something you could have never expected.

Pairing: Army Pilot!Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2,792

It was the middle of the night, 2:57a.m., to be exact, when a loud crash shook you from the clutches of sleep. You sat up with a groan, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision enough to look at the clock on your nightstand. You swung your legs off the bed, eyes catching the shattered lamp on the ground. Fighting off the temptation to leave it on the ground for tomorrow, for fear that you might forget about it and slam your bare feet into the shards scattered around the floor, you slid your legs into some sweats and stood up.

You weren’t expecting, when you turned on the light, for something to move. When something darted around the corner you actually let out a high-pitched yelp, flying backwards and hitting your elbow hard off the corner of the nightstand. You felt tingling rush into the tips of your fingers as you tried desperately to comprehend what had just happened. Your breathing had already increased, and your heart was racing inside your chest. You took a hesitant step forward.

Despite being alone in the apartment, you flushed beet red in embarrassment when you found the creature you’d been so terrified of. The orange tabby cat stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a quiet mew. Immediately your heart softened, its beat slowing down to a normal pace. When the cat made to step toward you, though, you immediately noticed the limp. Your eyebrows furrowed and you knelt down, letting it come to you. You reached out for its front leg, and it let you take it into your hand.

“Oh, sweet baby,” you muttered softly, wiping a bit of blood out of its fur with your thumb. “Come on. I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

It surely didn’t understand what you said, but it followed you when you stood up. It limped into the bathroom behind you, settling once it reached the tile floor. You reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the red case, propping it up on the countertop and opening it up. Quickly, you located the roll of bandages and the scissors that came with it. You pulled it out and got some wet paper towels. Once more you knelt down on the ground next to the tabby.

A black collar around its neck caught your attention. You reached out for the silver tag that hung from it and spoke aloud. “Goose. Well, Goose, there’s no phone number here for your owner. Guess I’ll have to fix you up and trust you can find your own way home, huh?”

He meowed in response.

You continued to wrap up his leg. When you finally finished, you tucked the first aid kit away again. You clicked your tongue a couple times in an attempt to get him to follow you again. The both of you headed toward the kitchen, where you rummaged through the fridge for the leftover chicken from dinner the night before last. You pulled some out and set it in a small dish on the floor, a sort of apology for your lamp having done such damage to the poor animal’s leg. He helped himself quickly. Meanwhile, you dug through one of your drawers.

You popped the cap off a pen and cut a small strip of paper, struggling to keep your writing small enough to fit.

There was no number on the collar, so I opted for this. Goose found his way into my apartment and had an unfortunate mishap. I patched him up and gave him a treat. I hope that’s okay. He should be alright.

Hope he feels better soon.

You rolled the note around the tabby’s collar and taped it in place. He’d finished his treat by now, so you led him back to the apartment door. When you opened it, he cast one glance back at you, eyes shining as if in gratitude, then scurried down the hall. Just as he turned out of sight, though, someone else moved into your peripheral vision. You could have scoffed when you saw who had wandered into the hallway. She spoke before you could close the door.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Fuck off, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she hummed, a wide smirk on her face as she twirled her keys around her finger.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “And next time you’re using your stripes to get random women in bed, be a little quieter, would you? Some of us around here have self-respect.”

You closed the door before she could respond to that.

You and Carol Danvers had hated each other for as long as you’d lived there. The two of you were like hot and cold, or night and day. She liked loud music and late nights whereas you liked a nice book and an early night. You were quiet and soft-spoken, and Carol was a bully. In fact, she was your bully. You’d never endured such teasing and taunting from anyone else before. It wasn’t her harsh words that got to you, though. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure what it was that got to you. Maybe it was her arrogance, or maybe it was her ignorance for anyone around her. It didn’t matter.

Carol Danvers brought out a side of yourself that you didn’t know existed. You’d only have to hear a single word fall from her lips or see a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, and instantly any semblance of a good mood would dissipate and fade into annoyance. The hatred you held for her made your blood boil in your veins at the mere sight of her stupid, cocky smirk. You sometimes wished you could just reach out and slap that stupid smirk off her stupid face.

You pushed the blonde from your mind, heading back to bed. Hopefully, the coming day would be one that didn’t involve the blonde captain.

*

It was three days later that a quiet meow caught your attention. It tore your gaze from the TV, and you glanced toward the source of the sound. The face that was watching you immediately brought a smile to your face. You pat the couch beside you and the tabby jumped up, settling onto the blanket. You ran your hand across his head, watching his eyes close in content. You were about to turn your gaze back to the TV when you noticed the paper around his collar. It wasn’t the same one you put there. You reached out for it and removed it, careful not to rip it, and unrolled it. You flicked on the lamp.

Sorry about him. He wanders around the building. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into someone’s room. If you fed him, he’ll probably come back to you (which I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind that he’ll keep coming back). That’s how I know you’ll get this. So, thank you for patching him up. The vet would’ve cost more. You were right. He was just fine.

Rolled up with it was a twenty-dollar bill. You chuckled, immediately standing up off the couch. You pulled a small treat out of the fridge as you passed it, Goose trotting into the kitchen at the sight. You handed it to him and he took it happily, chowing down as you stood up straight again and continuing on your journey toward the notepad on the counter. Once again you ripped a small piece of paper out of it, ripping the cap of the pen off with your teeth and holding it there as you brought the pen down to meet the paper.

It seems so. You were right. He came back. He’s a sweet boy. I truly enjoy his visits. I don’t get many of them, so he’s welcome here whenever he pleases. And I don’t need this. Keep it.

You knelt down on the ground to Goose once again. He sat still for you as you wrapped the bill around his collar, wrapped the note around it, and then taped them both in place. Once more, you led him back to the apartment door, opened it up for him, and let him into the hallway. He rubbed his head against your calf once more before dashing out of sight. You shut the door behind him.

*

You huffed as you stormed into the lobby of the apartment building. Work had not treated you well that day. All you wanted was to head upstairs, put on your coziest pyjamas, order takeout, cuddle into the couch, and watch a movie or two. It was all you needed to wash away the horrible day and ease the stress that was weighing so heavily on your chest. You only wanted to pick up your mail before you did, but apparently, the universe had other ideas.

“Looking for some mail from your mommy?”

Danvers was the last person you wanted to deal with today. You didn't even bother to grumble a response to your neighbour, who was still in uniform as she stepped up beside you and unlocked her own mailbox. You were going to step away without a single word, but once more, you didn’t get your wish. Carol snickered at something, making you slam your box shut with far more force than necessary.

“What, pray tell, is so fucking funny?” You snapped.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Nice keychain.”

The keychain was a souvenir one you’d gotten from your trip to Disney with your family a few years ago. It was a picture of you and your brothers all wearing Mickey Mouse ears and sticking your tongues out at the camera. If anyone else had said the words, you would have blushed and thanked them. When Carol said the words, you shoved the keys in your pocket and shot a glare so harsh that it would have killed if it could have.

“You’re a dick, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she corrected once more.

“Look, this whole army pilot thing might work on those girls you pick up from god knows where, but I’ve met you,” you sneered. “You use this uniform for detestable things, Danvers. It’s disgusting.”

You stormed away.

When you unlocked your door and stepped into your apartment, however, you found that you wouldn’t need pyjamas or takeout or movies to make you feel better. Your new best friend was sitting on your couch as if he had been waiting for you to arrive home. You dropped your bag at the door and moved to sit with him immediately. After stroking his head absentmindedly for a bit, you noticed the new note.

Take it. Please? Come on, you’re going to make Goose sad if you don’t. You’re going to make me sad if you don’t.

Attached with the note, again, was that same twenty-dollar bill. You rolled your eyes as you moved into the kitchen once more, handing Goose a few of the cat treats you’d bought for him. He accepted them happily as, for the third time, you prepared to write a note for Goose’s mystery owner. You didn’t even bother to sit down, hunching over the counter in a way that your back probably wouldn’t have thanked you for. You scribbled on the paper.

I’m sure Goose won’t mind at all. As for you? Well, I don’t really know you, do I? Just keep the damn money, will you? You know, Goose is going to gain a few pounds if you keep sending him back here.

Sincerely, Goose’s new best friend

After a few pats to the head, you sent Goose off with that. He was back later that day.

Goose’s best friend,

Goose does mind. He wants you to keep it. Please? Besides, if we keep attaching it with scotch tape to a wandering cat, it’s going to get lost. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you? I sure wouldn’t. As for the treats, I’ll make sure to walk him a bit more. Wouldn’t want to lose my new favourite pen pal over a couple extra pounds on the cat.

- Goose’s mom

This time, there were two twenties attached. You chuckled at that. Goose was gobbling down his treat as you wrote.

Goose’s mom,

I think that’d be quite a sight to see, you walking Goose down the street. Guess if I ever see Goose leashed and with some random woman on the street, I’ll know what you look like.

- Goose’s best friend

P.S. Just donate the money. Seriously.

As if it were habit by now, you reattached the bills, added your note, and sent the tabby out the door once again. You headed back to what you’d been doing.

It wasn’t long before the next reply.

Goose’s best friend,

Here, I’ll help you build the image. I’m 23, blonde, and about 5’6”. I’m in the army, so I’d probably still be in uniform after work. Oh, and Goose’s leash is blue, and he has a grey harness for walking.

- Goose’s mom

P.S. I split the $40 between the humane society and the local shelter

You once more had to laugh at the stranger. Of course, you immediately moved to respond. As much as you didn’t want to kick Goose out, you wanted her to get your answer as soon as possible. You grabbed your notepad.

Goose’s mom,

You sound cute.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend

It was a short note this time. You were having fun, though, and you wanted to tease your new friend a little. You attached the note to Goose and let him run off.

Once more, Goose returned with a new reply.

Best friend,

You didn’t give me anything in response. I’m offended.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend’s best friend

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she’d signed her newest note. A pang of confidence hit your chest. You scribbled on the note.

Goose’s cute mom,

Let’s go for coffee then. 2B. I’m free when you are.

- Girl with a crush

*

You regretted sending that last note. You’d never gone more than 12 hours without communicating with the mystery note sender. You’d grown quite fond of the little pieces of communication you’d exchanged with her. It was actually the highlight of your day, on most days. Since sending that last one, though, you’d yet to hear back from her. It’d been four days now. You were quite upset about it, and decided the best way to fix that was some loud music. Maybe it’d piss Danvers off as much as she pissed you off.

When there was a loud knock on the door, you immediately assumed that you’d sure pissed someone off. Of course, they’d complain about you and not her. Everyone loved Carol fucking Danvers. You wished you could whirl the door open and shout at whoever was on the other side, but knew yourself better than that. You’d probably open it up and apologize, then turn the volume down and wallow in your misery to the sound of softer music.

That is, if it were anyone but Danvers.

“What? Just now realizing how damn annoying it is to hear loud music blaring from the apartment directly below yours?” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Danvers.”

You went to slam the door, but she stuck her hand in. It must’ve been a little harsher than you meant to, because she shook her fingers out when she retracted them. You didn’t apologize, because you didn’t even feel bad. She deserved it after giving you two years of hell having to live in the apartment below her. You’d not have been surprised if one day she invited an elephant into her room just so she could make as much noise in your apartment as possible.

As you were about to make another snarky remark, though, you noticed something. That cocky glint that was usually shining in her brown eyes was missing. She wasn’t even meeting your eyes. Her gaze was cast to the door beside your head, locked to the bronze numbers that were screwed into it. You raised a single eyebrow, waving your hand in front of her face to get her attention. She blinked as if coming out of a trace, looking back to you.

“What do you want, Danvers?” You snapped when she wouldn’t speak.

She didn’t answer. She only held out a small piece of paper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but took it from her. The handwriting was one you’d seen so many times.

Goose’s best friend,

Coffee it is. But I’m paying. I still owe you.

- A girl who also has a crush, Carol Danvers

[captains-simp]

(Not me accidentally posting this when it was half done)

I knew I could count on you @wndrcarol for a jock!Carol request🥳 also....👀I heard you like Sharon

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

1.9k words

Warnings: harassment, degrading, face slapping, strap on sex, spitting, choking and hints of overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned in frustration when you finished checking the kitchen for your girlfriend. Everytime you went to a party with her the same thing happened.

You'd arrive, take a while to get comfortable and as soon as you did Carol would be whisked away by her friends leaving you to stand awkwardly in the corner. You really needed to get more friends. The ones you had never seemed to come to those parties.

You wandered outside onto the wooden decking area to get some fresh air and leant against the fence as you lazily scanned the area for Carol. You knew she wasn't out there, you had already checked.

Your eyes landed on a brunet who had been watching you carefully but the moment you locked eyes he scurried away back inside, not wanting to be seen near you. You smiled at the memory of the last time you had met at a party.

"There was only 10 seconds of the game left but I kicked the ball as hard as I could and it was on the last second of the game that it scored and we won!" Tyler exclaimed before taking another sip of his bear and gleamed at the memory.

"That's great." You said as you continued to scan the room for Carol.

"It was, you should'a been there." Tyler said as he looked back at you, or more he looked above the line of your low hanging top. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I was at Carol's game." Tyler didn't react to the mention of your girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't know you were dating, everyone knew. Carol made sure of that.

"Unlucky, mine was a lot more interesting." He declared with a smug grin. A brief memory of Carol fucking you in the showers after that game flashed through your mind and you couldn't contain your smile at knowing how wrong the guy infront of you was.

Unfortunately, he thought that smile was at him.

"I had a pretty great game before that too. But it's getting kinda loud in here, wanna go somewhere more private?" He smirked in an extremely unattractive way.

"I'm good, I need to go find Carol." You said quickly, wanting to get the hell away from Tyler.

You hadn't seen Carol in a while. It was her idea to go to the party, it was an environment she thrived in. You, however, did not. It wasn't your scene and you didn't know anyone there, not well at least.

At some point through the mass of bodies, loud music and numerous people trying to get Carol to do shots with them or be on their beer pong team, you had been seperated from the Captain and you hadn't seen her since.

"Come on, I'm sure there's some spare rooms upstairs." There was a slight slur to his voice that made it even worse when he approached you and put a heavy hand on your waist.

"Get off me, Tyler!" You snapped and pushed his hand away but he continued with a frown.

"What? Don't you want this-" He was cut off when a fist shot out beside you and punched him across the face. Tyler staggered back, gripping his bleeding nose, as the people around you cheered loudly, oblivious to what had happened prior.

"Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend." Carol demanded as she continued to advance towards a cowarding Tyler who could only hold his hands out in defence. You pulled Carol away with to turn her towards you and Tyler scrambled to his feet to flee.

"Are you okay?" Concerned and familiar eyes met yours that instantly eased your worry. Carol brought her hands gently up to your face as she scanned you closely and you were surprised to see that she looked completely sober.

You nodded your head and breathed out a yes before you took her right hand away from your face to examine it carefully. The dull lighting in the room made it hard to make out but you could feel that there was nothing out of place.

"Come on." Carol said as she took your hand. "Let's get out of here."

Tyler had a bandage across his nose for a while. He had avoided you like the plague ever since, clearly have some sense in him.

"Want some company?" Came a voice from beside you. You glanced sideways and saw Sharon fall easily into place next to you. She mirrored your position of leaning against the barrier and gave you a knowing smile.

"Thanks." You breathed out, feeling kind of embarrassed someone had noticed Carol always seemed to ditch you at parties.

"No luck finding the girlfriend?" Sharon teased.

"Is it that obvious?" You asked but weren't sure you really wanted to know.

"You look like a lost puppy without her." Sharon chuckled making you flush. Maybe you were too clingy.

"She's the golden retriever lesbian." You corrected making Sharon laugh more.

"That seems about right." She went to move closer to you but a group of jocks spilled out onto the decking, without Carol among them.

"Fuck this." She huffed and took your hand to lead you over to the garden swing bench. Your hand felt like it was burning when she held it to pull you along. Although her hands were physically soft, they weren't the kind of softness you felt with Carol. It didn't make you feel warm inside, it made you feel uneasy. But it was a party, you had to hold onto people to move about.

Part of your brain pointed out that there was only a few people in the garden so there was really no need for Sharon to navigate you through it, while the rest of you really did just want some company.

Sharon sat down on the bench and you followed, feeling as though you could relax a bit more on the edge of the garden.

"You know, I think Carol's a very lucky gal to have you." Sharon said as she watched you closely. You laughed nervously as you noticed how close she was. You found yourself searching the garden for Carol again but Sharon lighting held your jaw and turned it back towards her.

"Pretty thing like you must surely be a lot of fun to play with." She smirked as her other hand crept onto your thigh.

"Um I d-don't-"

"Shh, you don't need to talk." Sharon cooed as she tilted your chin up more when you struggled to keep eye contact. The blonde glanced at your lips and licked her own before leaning forward slowly.

Until a strong hand wrapped itself around your bicep and yanked you from the bench.

You stumbled into a fuming blonde who was glaring at Sharon. You blushed deeply as you realised how it looked at what Sharon was most likely trying to do.

"You keep your fucking hands off of my girlfriend, Carter." Carol spat as her fists clenched.

"You really shouldn't leave her unattended?" Sharon said, amused by Carol's anger. "Who knows what could have happened." She winked at you and looked away instantly.

Carol scoffed simply as she continued to glare daggers at the woman infront of you.

"In your fucking dreams, she's mine." She all but growled as she pulled you away. You yelped as you felt her nails dig into your skin but didn't have the nerve to ask her to loosen her grip.

Carol pulled you through the crowded house and up to an empty bedroom that she shoved you inside.

"Did you enjoy that? Whoring yourself out to Sharon?" Carol asked as she threw you to the bed and started undoing her belt.

"No I-" You started as you went to sit up but Carol put a firm hand to your chest and pushed you back flat against the bed.

"Shut up, slut. I don't want to hear another sound out of you unless you're saying my name." She warned as she pulled her strap out and pulled your panties down.

You looked at her wide eyed, never seeing her so worked up before sex. Sure, you'd have a lot of needy, desperate sex and the occasional quickly, but she never showed so little regard to you before.

"What? Think I'm going to be nice to you and take my time? Want me to touch you gently? Whores don't deserve to be treated nicely. You don't get to prep my cock either." Carol taunted as she pushed the tip of the head in and kept it there as she stared down at you. "You'll have to just take it how it is, not that you'll have much of an issue. You've always got such a sloppy cunt."

"Please, Captain." You found yourself whining earning you a harsh slap to your left cheek. Your head whipped to the side and your cheek burned but Carol didn't seem to care.

"Who are you begging to fuck you?" Carol asked as she rocked her hips slowly as a reminder that you only had the very tip inside you.

"You Carol, I want my Captain's cock!" You cried out desperately.

"Only mine?" The blonde mused as she inched a bit more of the strap in.

"Yes Carol, only your cock. I only want you." You whined truthfully. Carol knew that of course, she knew you were incredibly loyal. That's what made the game so fun.

"Please! Please Carol I need you so bad. I want my Captain deep inside me, please please." You begged and felt as though you could cry in frustration.

"You really know how to plead like a whore, don't you. Did you learn that somewhere? Or are you just a natural cock slut?" She asked as she slammed her hips forward and filed you up with the strap at every angle.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back against the pillows as Carol set about her harsh and unrelenting pace. The thick strap filled you up entirely with every thrust. It didn't take long for your eyed to water from the sheer amount of pleasure she was giving to you so roughly.

Carol grunted as she pounded the strap into you and her grip on your wrists tightened, letting you know she wouldn't let go anytime soon.

"See? You've got such a sloppy pussy. And it's all mine." Carol spoke as she glanced down to look at your pussy taking her strap so well.

"You're gonna cum for me now. You're going to cum all over my cock." Carol demanded as she noticed your signs of approaching orgasm.

You cried out at the force of each of Carol's thrusts until it became too much to bear and you crashed over the edge without much to hold on to. As you did so, Carol brought her hand up and wrapped it tightly around your throat before giving it a quick squeeze.

"You belong to me, slut." Carol said as she continued thrusting mercilessly. She noted your blissed expression and open mouth and gripped your jaw tightly, much rougher than Sharon had. She pulled your face down with your mouth still open and spat. You moaned as you tasted her saliva on your tongue and around your lips. You swallowed it eagerly making Carol beam internally, not that she could let you know that.

"Cum again for me whore. I get to do what I want with you. So you're going to keep cuming until I get bored. I don't give a fuck if you get tired." She spoke next to your ear, poison dripping from her words.

"So fucking cum."

[idy-ll-ique]

The Perfect Wingman.

Pairing: Single Dad!Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst

Warnings: mentions of injuries, blood

Requested: Nope

Summary: Felix, Sebastian Stan's five year old son, is the perfect matchmaker (with the help of Uncle Anthony, of course!)

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Another matchmaker fic lmao there's just something about that trope where kids play matchmaker for adults that's just... 💞 anyway enjoy!

---

"Buddy! Hi!"

Y/N glanced at Chris Evans as her boss spoke to her, seeing him running towards somebody. After her boss left, she turned around and smiled when she saw him chatting with Felix, Sebastian Stan's five year old son. The kid was literally sunshine in a bottle, making everyone around him happy. Guess that's another thing he got from his father.

Aside from looks.

Then she looked around, but couldn't see Sebastian anywhere. "Boo!" Startled, Y/N screamed and held a hand over her chest as she whirled around to see Sebastian doubled over in laughter behind her, clutching his stomach. "Oh my God!" she groaned as several heads turned to her at her scream. "You should've seen your face," Sebastian wheezed.

Y/N pouted at him and swatted his chest. "I could've had a heart attack!" Y/N wasn't an actress, she was just an assistant on set. Her only work was to make sure that all the actors on set were hydrated, which in turn led to her becoming good friends with all of them. They were all very friendly people, the Marvel cast. "But you didn't. Felix!" Sebastian called out and his son looked up.

Running as fast as his little feet could carry him, Felix jumped into his father's open arms, giggling. Y/N watched them with a smile on her face; Sebastian was a great father. "Meet Y/N," Sebastian introduced her and she waved at the kid. "Hi Felix," she grinned but Felix was mesmerized. Wow, she's so beautiful.

He simply blinked at her a few times, his jaw dropped. Y/N raised a questioning but amused brow at him, her eyes flickering to Sebastian who was watching his son with an exasperated look on his face, all too aware of his shenanigans. She laughed at Sebastian's expression and Felix snapped out of his thoughts. He raised his arms and leaned forward; a silent request of please pick me up.

Y/N gathered him in her arms, his tiny arms going around her neck as she held him on her hip. "Hello!" He had surprisingly clear speech, he did not mispronounce his L's and R's much. "Hi! How are you today? Enjoying yourself?" Felix nodded excitedly. "Yes!" Sebastian simply watched them with a soft smile as the girl he fancied talked to his son.

Sebastian had had a crush on Y/N ever since they began filming, and at this point, 4 months later, the only person who was oblivious to his feelings was Y/N. Everyone knew, and everyone heartily teased him for it. He had always wanted to ask her out; seeing his son get along so well with her only fueled his feelings. "Are you… are you an actwess too, Y/N?"

"No, darling, I'm a helping hand. I help everyone stay hydrated."

"What does that mean?"

"I give everyone water when they ask for it," she explained and Felix nodded, eyes the same colour as Sebastian's blinking at her in wonder. "Water is impowtant," Felix stated matter-of-factly making Y/N giggle. Felix decided he wanted to hear that sound much more frequently. "Felix! Is that you?!" Y/N, Felix and Sebastian turned to see Anthony making his way towards them.

"Uncle Anthony!" Felix squealed and Y/N put him down on his feet, smiling at the way he ran to Anthony Mackie. "Your son is so cute," she commented, turning to Sebastian only to see him already staring at her, a soft smile on his face. "It seems as though he has taken a liking to you. I wouldn't blame him." Y/N rolled her eyes at his flirting but blushed.

He did flirt with her a lot, but come on, that was just a part of his personality. Surely he didn't have feelings for her, he couldn't. Oh but he did; very strong feelings, on top of that. "Cheesy," she jabbed back and Sebastian clutched his chest with a pretend hurt look on his face. "You wound me," he pouted and Y/N grinned at him.

What they didn't see was Felix and Anthony staring at them, eyebrows raised in an identical manner. "Uncle Anthony, can I ask you something?" Anthony smirked but nodded. "Does papa… does papa love Y/N?" Anthony laughed loudly, realising that the adorable kid was the perfect wingman for Y/N and Sebastian. So he said, "Yes, yes he does."

"She is really pwetty…" Felix confessed, his own cheeks turning pink. "Aw, look who's blushing," Anthony teased, pinching his little cheeks. Felix blushed more and slapped his hands away, pouting. "Do you want your papa to go on a date with Y/N?" Anthony asked the child. Felix thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yes. If he likes her, he should just tell her!" Oh, bless his innocent heart. If only it were that easy in real life. "He will ask her soon, we'll make sure of it. Here's what you can do to help…"

---

2 months had passed since Felix visited the sets and Sebastian was getting impatient. If you thought his flirting was too much then, you should see him now. He flirted with her every chance he got but Y/N used to brush him off each time; he possibly couldn't be genuinely interested in her. She didn't think herself to be worthy of his affections, so, as much as she liked his flirting, she never reciprocated.

As Y/N gathered a few bottles of water in her arms, she heard a screech behind her. "Y/N!" Smiling, she turned, dramatically faking an 'oof' as a tiny body collided with her legs. "Felix, honey, hi! Didn't expect you to visit the sets today," she grinned as Felix let go, smiling broadly up at her.

"His babysitter couldn't make it, had to bring him down."

Her smile turned nervous as she saw the father of the cute kid walking towards her, a suave smile plastered on his face. "That's okay, papa, I can just hang out with Y/N!" Felix assured him before frowning at the dozens of bottles in her arms. "Do you need help?" Ah, ever the gentleman. One more thing he gets from his dad.

"Thank you so much, sweetie," she cooed as she handed him two bottles. It wasn't much, but seriously, how much could a little child carry? That was enough for him. "Can you go give these to Scarlett and Chris?" she requested, pointing to the spot where Scarlett Johansson and Chris Hemsworth were standing. "Okay, Y/N!"

She grinned when he left. "Seriously, how did you manage to birth the most perfect kid in the world?" she commented, turning to Sebastian. "Look at me," he said unabashedly, wiggling his eyebrows. "Seb," she huffed and nudged him, raising her eyebrows in shock when he took the bottles from her arms. "I have some time before my next scene."

"That's my job—"

"Nope, can't have you carrying all these bottles, sweetheart. What if you drop them?" She pouted as she followed him through the busy set. "Do you think I'm clumsy?" He glanced at her, worried that he actually offended her, but smiled when he saw her playful look. "Nope, but I don't want you to trip over the fallen bottles and hurt yourself."

"Now that was a good line," she whistled and Sebastian laughed. As Sebastian and Y/N chatted more, they heard a loud wail coming from a few feet away. Freezing up, both of them turned to see Felix sitting on the floor, surrounded by Elizabeth Olsen and Chris Evans as he moaned in pain. Y/N's eyes went wide with fear when she saw the cut on his knee.

Talk about hurting oneself...

Forgetting the world around her, she quickly rushed to the child, Sebastian hot on her heels. "Bub, stop crying," Chris tried but Felix wouldn't listen. The moment he saw Y/N, though, his tears ceased. "Y/N," he whimpered and reached towards her, finally content when she took him in her arms. "Oh, honey bun, you'll be okay," she whispered, kissing his forehead.

"It hurts," Felix insisted. "I know, darling, let's patch you up." Without any word to anyone, Y/N led him away from the crowd, sitting him down on one of the chairs littered across the place. Sebastian, Chris and Elizabeth watched her; Chris and Lizzie were smirking but Sebastian was beyond shocked. The worry on her face the moment she found out he was hurt, the way she cradled him…

The way his son had stopped crying when he saw her, as if she were his mother. The way he reached out to her instead of him. "Just ask her out, pal, look at her. She's perfect for you. And for Felix," Chris told him, patting him on the back before leaving with Elizabeth.

Sebastian stayed where he was for a few more minutes, heart racing and mind in an overdrive, watching as Y/N took care of Felix. Be mine, please.

"All okay, bub?" Y/N crooned as she tied a bandage on his knee after cleaning the blood off. "Thank you, Y/N!" Felix threw his arms around her neck and buried his face in her neck, smiling widely. Y/N returned the hug ardently, rubbing his back. "Felix?" Felix looked over Y/N's shoulder to see his dad standing there, a small smile on his face. "Papa!"

He made no point in moving out of Y/N's arms and Sebastian took the hint, merely ruffling the boy's hair. "You doing okay? Y/N take care of the boo-boo?" Felix nodded eagerly. "It doesn't even hurt now," he said proudly and Sebastian smiled. "Did you say thank you?" "He did, Sebastian," Y/N assured him.

"I wish Y/N took care of my boo-boos all the time!" Felix pouted. Sebastian froze again, his eyes darting to Y/N when he saw her stiffen. "How is that possible, sugar?" Y/N joked nervously as she stood up, Felix still in her arms, holding him on her hip like before. "Papa can date you! And then you can get married and then you'll be my mama and then you'll take care of all my boo-boos!"

Sebastian and Y/N stared at each other as Felix innocently looked at Y/N with a huge smile on his face. "M-Married? Bubba, I don't think your papa likes me in that way…" Sebastian suddenly found his voice. How dare she? "Y/N, I do like you, why do you think I flirt with you all the time?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Y/N's eyes went wide. "Wait, I thought you were joking—"

"I wasn't. Will you go on a date with me?"

"Sebastian, I-I… I'll be honored."

"Oh please, iubi, the honor's all mine," he chuckled and, not caring about who was watching (including his own son), leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. Y/N's heart fluttered at the term of endearment as she kissed him back. Felix groaned loudly in Y/N's arms, covering his eyes. "Yucky!"

Sebastian and Y/N had to break the kiss because they laughed too hard. Felix slid down Y/N's arms and ran towards Anthony, who was watching them with a small smile, proud of his best friend for finally making a move on the woman he liked. Anthony smirked when the pipsqueak stopped next to him. "Good job, bud."

"Thank you, Uncle Anthony." And Felix gagged again as he and Anthony turned to Sebastian and Y/N, only to see them in another liplock.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you enjoyed, reblogs will be accepted and appreciated too <3

[let-me-love-you-loki]

An Ending Within--Ch. 20

Chapter 20

           Justin Roberts’s voice echoed through the arena, amplified by the speaker system that permeated the building. It took a moment for his words to sink in. And when it did…

           The crowd was absolutely insane. Screaming and shouting. Booing and chanting. They made their disbelief and displeasure known without reservation. So many of them had followed the story of us—from unusual stablemates in the Shield to soulmate partners in Lunatic Llane to bitter rivals hell bent on destroying one another—that they were caught up in the destruction we could wreak on each other.

           Jon and I had fought with everything we had. We had torn at each other until we couldn’t fight anymore and it was beautiful. It couldn’t have gone any better—and yet we knew we weren’t finished. We knew that this was just the beginning.

           I lay flat on my back in the center of the ring, my arms spread out beside me, alternately laughing and screaming. Anyone close by would think I was crazy. And I loved every second of it. The moment I rolled toward the apron, Jericho rushed the ring, slid under the bottom rope, and launched himself at Jon. My head turned inside out as I pulled myself up to my feet.

           I reached up to wipe my mouth, and my fingers came away with blood. Jon had busted my lip open!

           A feral roar snapped out of me as I staggered toward him. Jericho was barely able to step back before I shoved him out of the way. I dropped back to the mat, throwing one leg over Jon and sitting down with all my weight on his chest. He had a shiner starting under his left eye. Blood trickled from a cut just above his hairline.

           I grinned.

           “You busted my lip, Jon,” I growled as I slapped him hard across the face. Red splattered from his head to the canvas. I wiped blood and saliva from my busted lip and grabbed him hard by the jaw. “I’m going to have to pay you back. Next time.”

           Jon flashed his maniacal, shark-like smile. “I look forward to it, dollface.”

           “Good,” I replied as I gave his jaw a hard squeeze and shake. I stood up, stomping him in the ribs with the flat of my boot before cat climbing up the turnbuckle and landing flatfooted on the apron. When I hit my feet on the outside, I gave an exaggerated bow before throwing up a middle finger at the crowd.

***

           I lay stretched out on the sofa, butterfly bandages on my forehead, and Sefina tucked against my side. She watched the television screen with her dark eyes bright and wide as she sang along with Frozen. Her voice had a soft sweetness as she stumbled over the words, waving her hand in the air as if she were conducting an orchestra. I couldn’t help but watch the way her fingers still had the pudginess of baby fat. How her wrists still had the same rings from when she was a newborn.

           For a moment, I was overwhelmed with a sense of loss and sadness. How much of her childhood had I missed so I could chase my dream of wrestling?

           My gaze slipped toward where Seth sat a few feet away, his Switch in his lap. His long hair was pulled back into a knot and covered with a grey beanie. Black rimmed glasses hid his dark chocolate eyes. He had on a One Nation Under Wrestling t-shirt and sweatpants, looking calm and relaxed.

           As if he could feel me watching, he glanced up. He smiled softly as he sat the gaming system on the cushion beside him. His whole being seemed to light up with that smile. I wriggled my toes. He reached out to pull on them, and I squealed in response.

           “How’s your knee?” he asked as he walked his roughened fingertips up the line of my calf. His thumb stroked the inside of my knee where a bruise had bloomed from the match with Jon. My brace had dug into the muscle and flesh, leaving a black and purple blotch that extended from my knee down to almost a third of my shin.

           I flexed my foot, pointing my toes and feeling the stretch through every muscle in my leg. There was a faint, pulling ache up into my thigh and hip. As if the deep muscle and tissue beneath the pale silver scar of my surgery was tugged out of place.

           “Sore,” I replied. “I’ve had some numbness over the last few days. It comes and goes.”

           Sefina looked up at me, her dark eyes so much like Seth’s. “Tinā. Tama. Shh,” she said in her soft little voice. I smiled. Thanks to Roman, she spoke Samoan as often as she did English.

           Seth grinned, showing off that gap between his teeth. “Did you just shush us, Iosefina Dakota Quinn Lopez?”

           Our daughter let out a huff of indignation at the fact that her father had called her by her full name. She sat up, flailing her arms toward Seth as he reached over and snatched her into his lap. My husband laughed as he tickled her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squealed in happiness.

           “Don’t get her excited, Seth! It’s almost bedtime,” I whined over the sound of their laughter and screaming. “She’ll never calm down for bed if you keep that up.”

           “Hush, Llane,” he huffed over our daughter’s happiness. “She’s just fine. How about you go to bed and let me manage the munchkin?”

           I rolled my eyes and pulled myself up to sit. My leg was more sore than I let on, and the numbness had been more than just the coming and going of pins-and-needles. Everything from my hip to my ankle ached and then went numb and achy again. The last thing I needed was to tell Seth about it all and start him worrying. He’d only recently let go of so much of his anxiety and terror about me getting injured again.

           My heart skipped a beat when a furrow appeared between his brows. He curled Sefina into his chest and struggled gently to keep her under control. “Llane, are you sure you’re okay?”

           I smiled and waved my hand in his direction. “I’m fine. I promise. Don’t keep her up too late?”

           He nodded and leaned over to press a kiss on my cheek. “I love you,” he murmured. “And I’ll keep her up as long as I like, thank you very much.”

           Before I could roll my eyes again, I got to my feet and shuffled toward the kitchen to get something to drink. He smacked me in the ass as I walked by, letting out that insane laugh of his. Sefina squealed, and he turned to “slam” her onto the sofa.

           “Again!” our daughter shouted, breathless with laughter. Half a second later, I heard the muffled thud of her hitting the cushions and Seth shouting out one… two… before letting out a groan of defeat.

           By the time I slipped back through the room to the hallway, Sefina was giving him a DDT onto a beanbag chair.

***

           “Itiiti,” Roman boomed the moment Seth and I walked into view backstage. I felt the smile that spread over my face and let out a laugh that echoed through the concrete space. I took off running toward him, launching myself against his sturdy chest. He snatched me out of the air and hugged me tightly as I wrapped my arms and legs around him.

           It felt as if months had passed since I’d seen him, even though it had only been a few weeks. He cradled one large hand on the back of my head and tucked my face against his neck. He smelled like sea spray and sunshine. For a moment, it felt like we were back in the early days of my time with The Shield.

           “I’ve missed you so much, Ro,” I whispered as I squeezed him tightly. “We can’t ever go this long without seeing each other again!”

           His laugh rumbled through my whole body. “It’s not my fault you’re off somewhere going crazy in the ring with Jon.” Roman dropped a lingering, warm, brotherly kiss on my hair. “But, damn, if it isn’t fun watching!”

           My heart jumped into my throat with happiness. “You watched the match?”

           He smiled and looked over my shoulder at Seth and Sefina. “Of course, I watched it! D’you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a real intergender match? You and Jon absolutely killed it. And that finish!”

           “Jon got busted open,” I replied with a grin.

           “So did you,” Seth called from behind me. I turned and saw him closing the distance between us, Sefina propped on his hip. “Although you got a bloody lip and he got a black eye and a split open forehead.”

           Roman dropped me onto my feet, and I schooled my features to hide the way the impact ran up my leg. The outside of my thigh tingled with pins and needles. I bit the inside of my cheek as I watched Sefina wriggle her way out of Seth’s arms. The moment her feet hit the floor she took off running toward Roman.

           His black eyes lit up as he held open his arms. She jumped into them and locked her arms around his neck. He straightened up, locking her in against his chest and turned in circles.

           “My afafine atua,” he murmured as he nuzzled into her hair. “You’ve grown a foot!”

           Sefina giggled and tucked her face against his shoulder. “Fua!”

           I smiled and leaned against Seth’s shoulder as he stepped up beside me. “It feels a little like the old days, doesn’t it?”

           He curled me in against his side. “Someone’s missing,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, “and I know you’re happier there. So is he. And we understand that.”

           “Thank you,” I whispered back. “Hopefully you’ll understand when we break out the barbed wire at the next pay-per-view.”

______________

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it

@lakamaa12

@sammyfireheartashryver

@cburdine

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@maelleoute​

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[watercolorfreckles]

Thanks for the Ride - Part 2

Part 1 Here

TW: asthma attack, slight angst, mention of blood and sc*rs

((Civilian’s name is now Kaira. Villain doesn’t have one yet.))

Kaira pushed open her apartment door and stepped inside. A flurry of snowflakes gusted in after her, dusting the welcome mat in her entryway as she shoved the door shut. She shivered and slid her boots off, shrugging off her coat next and hanging it up. She leaned heavily against the door to catch her breath, digging her inhaler out of her pocket and taking two puffs.

It had been a month since the incident, and she was left without a vehicle right as the weather turned frigid and biting. Just her luck, as well, that cold air triggers asthma. Kaira coughed and wheezed her way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to make herself some eucalyptus tea. Her doctor had recently told her that it might help alleviate some of her symptoms. Still struggling to breathe, she dropped herself into a chair at the kitchen table, squeezing her eyes shut. She tucked the inhaler back into her pocket without opening her eyes.

Kaira stayed there until the kettle squealed, forcing her lead-heavy limbs to get up and finish making her tea. She took a few sips though they scalded on the way down, and bent down to scoop some of her cat’s food into her bowl. She coughed and took another sip of tea, shaking the bowl a bit as she ventured further into the apartment. “Missy! Here, kitty.”

No response. That’s odd… Her stomach sank as she realized the tv was on in her bedroom. The muffled chatter and buzz were unmistakable. Had she forgotten to turn it off before going to work? 

She padded across the space, inching closer to the bedroom--though it was barely any use trying to be quiet. The ragged wheezing noises probably gave her away rather unceremoniously. Finally approaching the door and just about to cross the threshold, her cat hopped down in front of her, startling a yelp out of Kaira. The mug and food bowl in her hands crashed to the floor.

Kaira slapped a hand over her face, heart pounding all over again. “Missy. What did I do to deserve that?” she mused between strained breaths. 

She picked the remote up off of the dresser, lifting it to turn the screen off when she noticed what was playing on the news, and listened. More about the villain. The media coverage was constant, barely wavering since the villain’s “death” a month prior. The city clung to the hero’s victory, celebrating with parties and rallies and parades and barbeques. “Superhero finally managed to inject Supervillain with a revolutionary new toxic serum that drained his powers away and rendered him helpless. Superhero triumphed over the monster and fulfilled his duty in keeping our city safe! The crime rate perpetrated by powered individuals has decreased significantly as they all now live in fear of the hero’s new bioweapon. Let’s hope they stay underground where they belong.”

“The thing about Hero’s little serum,” a second voice cut through the silence, making Kaira jump and whirl around, “is that its effects are temporary. Poison a villain, take his powers, incapacitate him, kill him while he’s down. It’s quite the cowardly approach, don’t you agree, Kaira?”

Kaira froze in place like prey, staring at the villain sprawled out casually on her bed. He lifted a hand and lightning crackled over his palm like a second skin. Her mouth had gone unbearably dry and all she could do was stare and try to squash down the harsh rasps of her wheezing.

Villain flashed a smile, looking thoroughly pleased with himself as he sat up, leisurely. “Your firstborn and I have gotten acquainted.” He wiggled his fingers and made kissy sounds, drawing the orange tabby closer to him.

Kaira inhaled sharply and took a step closer, freezing again at the look Villain cut her as he scooped Missy into his lap. “Do you truly think I would harm your cat?” He tsked. “You must truly think me a monster.”

She swallowed again but it did nothing to aid the dryness scratching her throat. “How-How do you know where I live?” she whispered.

Villain stroked Missy’s back, who purred and curled up on his lap. “You had some bills in your glove compartment--your insurance is overdue, by the way. You might want to pay that.” His lip curled in a teasing smile though his gaze rested intent and unwavering upon her.

Panicked, she fished her inhaler out of her pocket without taking her eyes off of him, inhaling a third puff. “I...I haven’t told anyone about you. I swear I haven’t. I-I didn’t even want to raise questions about where you left me, so...I didn’t call a cab until I, um, walked back to the main road. No-Nobody knows what happened, or that you’re alive, I promise.”

The villain hummed, straightening all the way. 

Kaira’s gaze flicked down to his torso where she could see a deep red seeping through his shirt. “You’re...bleeding.”

“And you’re the only one who knows I’m alive, so. Do be a dear and bring me a first aid kit?” His smile widened, all amusement for now.

Kaira blanched and stepped toward the door when Villain lifted a finger to halt her. “Ah-ah, better have you toss your phone over to me first. The best relationships are built on trust, you know?” he purred, blatantly relishing in the glow of pink that spread over Kaira’s freckled cheeks.

She pulled her cellphone out of her other pocket and tossed it onto the bed, waiting for his nod of approval before staggering wide-eyed into the kitchen to fetch her first aid kit.

Oh my gods, oh my gods, the villain is in my house, oh my gods…

Kaira’s hands shook as she returned, easing herself lightly onto the edge of the bed beside him. She gingerly lifted her cat off of him and set her back onto the floor. “You’re bleeding on my bed,” she murmured. She carefully reached for his shirt and flushed red. “Um...can I?”

The villain grinned, wolfish. “Wishing to undress me so soon? By all means.”

Kaira spluttered, floundering briefly before reaching forward again, unbuttoning the bottom half of his shirt. No need to expose more of his chest than necessary, especially after that comment. Wow, he has a lot of scars…

She traced a finger featherlight over one of the pale slices of skin. When she realized what she was doing, her gaze snapped up to meet his. His laser focus made her feel like a bug splayed on a corkboard. “S-Sorry....” She looked away and opened up the first aid kit and gently examined his bloody wounds. “It...looks like you need stitches...is that okay?”

“Ah, what’s a couple more scars. Just clean them and bandage me up.” Kaira could feel the sudden electricity sparking the air as the hair on her neck stood on end. He smiled prettily, though his eyes were sharper, edging on dangerous. “Please.”

Kaira nodded quickly. “O-Okay, yes. Sure. No need to get, um...zappy.” She smoothed down a few pieces of hair that had been suspended by the static thick in the air like smoke. The energy released suddenly once she agreed, expelling like a popped balloon.

She released a breath through her teeth and got to work with trembling hands. “If nobody knows you’re alive, then who hurt you?”

Kaira jumped as the villain brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Sorry, dear, I don’t kiss and tell.”

Her face burned all over again and she avoided his gaze, focusing on the task at hand. When she was done, the villain abruptly stood and crowded close, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Villain bracketed her in place with an arm against the bed on each side of her. “Thanks for the patch job.” He flashed another predatory smile, eyes twinkling, and dangled her car keys in front of her face. “Care to give me another ride, dear?”

Part 3

Thank you for reading!

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