#almost exploding pain in my chest and i tasted blood but there was none and i was fine after 30 seconds so uhm pray for me there.

[oysterie]

okayyy i am playing ghosttrick now

[oneofthosesimps]

Lost in Blood

pairing: sukuna x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 4013

summary: after you kill your next victim sukuna fucks his heir in your belly

warnings: BLOOD ( it's not yours but there's a lot of blood, like a lot), blood kink, angst, death, murder, rough sex, sub/dom, dirty talk, belly buldge, breeding kink, two cocks, double penetration (in one and two holes)

authors note: if you are uncomfortable with the idea of blood or the idea of you killing people, this fanfic is NOT for you!!! this is coming from the deepest corners of my head. if you've watched American Horror Story and remember the countess sex scene with her vicitms, this fanfic was inspired by it

all credits to the artist of this pic:

ゲオブバビ/Geobubabi

-----

Screams fill the room, cutting through the air. They resemble the knife in your hand, which slides through the flesh beneath you. You watch it tensely as it draws its lines, forming wounds of varying depth. Deep red blood emerges from them, running in thick drops along the pale skin and then slowly pooling in puddles. Green emeralds stare at you, vein-streaked and wet. Tears flow like waterfalls from the large eyes, roll down the roundish face and get caught in the dark hair. Mouth wide open, a high, croaking voice makes your ears ring. You look at the woman below you and tilt your head slightly, contorting your face as the blade of the knife cuts deeper and a large gash forms on her arm. Her voice makes your head ache, almost explode. It drowns out the sound of tearing flesh. One too high note from her and you ram the knife into her arm, piercing it completely and scraping the dark floor on the other side of where she lies. She cries out loudly, trying to wiggle her limbs and squirming under you.

"Let me go!" her voice shrieks at you, and your hand clutches the handle of the weapon. Behind you, you hear a deep, dark laugh. At the small sound, the little hairs on your skin stand up and the butterflies dance inside you, which puts a smile on your face. You stare into her eyes, which look back in pure pain. As she eyes you, her face changes, becoming panicked as she sees your eyes and realizes what lies hidden deep within them. With one smooth thrust you ram the knife into her chest, right in the middle between her breasts. It slides through the flesh and bone like butter. The brown-haired woman spits blood, which speckles her pretty face. Her breathing changes, becoming shallower and more frantic, and she gasps. You watch her begin to fight for her life and pull the knife out of her. Blood gushes from the wound, splattering towards you as your hand snaps back down and the knife disappears into her body again, this time further to the left of it. Apparently, you hit her lungs completely. Her gasping gets louder and you see in her face that at the latest now the moment has come when she has understood that she can't survive this anymore. You sigh softly and look at her sadly. She lasted shorter than your last victim. The blood spreads over her body, flowing out of here like a stabbed pig. It looks so beautiful as the fabric of her white kimono turns dark. Her eyes search your face again, slowly glazing over as you stab her body again and again. Blood splatters on your face, arms, legs, and kimono as the life crawls out of her. The screams have long since stopped, she looks past your head, mouth open to a soundless scream. You stop as soon as her eyes lose their shine and the twitching of her body ceases. That is always the most significant moment. The feeling is impossible to describe when you see someone cross over into the beyond. Your mouth twists in dissatisfaction, this was way too easy. Other people are so terribly weak and whiny.

You feel a strong presence moving behind you and a warm shiver runs down your spine. A wide grin appears as Sukuna kneels beside you and leans down to you. Four big eyes look at you and make your breath catch. His pointed teeth flash at you, "Did you have fun, my little human?" You nod at him, unable to speak due to his beauty, "You did so well." His large hand rests against your cheek and he strokes it gently with his thumb, smudging the drops of blood. Your eyes close in pleasure and you snuggle up to him, enjoying the coldness he radiates. Again, he laughs, quieter this time, and pulls his hand away. Immediately your eyes open again and you look at the god in front of you.

His gaze wanders over your face, red smears on your cheek, before he looks to the dead woman at his feet. Countless wounds decorate her still-warm body, her blood slowly stops coming out of her, forming a lake in which she bathes almost weightlessly. Two of his fingers pick up some of the red liquid and he licks it off while his eyes land on you again. Your eyes widen and you lick your lips as you watch him do it. "You want some too, little human?" You nod at him and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue. His eyes take on a darker colour at the scenario before him, his pupils widening and pushing out the red.

"So greedy," he murmurs, stroking your head, running his hand through your curls, "But her blood is dirty and bitter. You deserve better." You pull a slight pout at his words as he takes the knife from your hand. Your eyes watch him open his mouth and run his tongue over the blade, licking it clean. He turns the weapon so that the sharp edge rides over the muscle and slides in a clean cut through it. Your face shows your astonishment as his hand settles on your mouth. He pulls at your lips and opens them.

A blush rises to your face as his lips settle on yours and his tongue runs between them. He explores your mouth cavity, playing with you, and you moan. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as your small hands knead the fabric of his kimono. The metallic taste of his blood mixes with your saliva and overwhelms your senses. The kimono slips off his shoulders, exposing his bare chest. Greedily you suck the blood from his tongue and a low murmur comes from him. One of his hands slides down your side and rests on your thigh. He caresses your tender skin, wipes aside the fabric of your clothing and his nails scratch over your leg. You caress his chest meanwhile, running over his muscles. Your fingertips trace the black lines before your arms wrap around his neck. You press closer and your teeth bite lightly into his lower lip, pulling at it. When he breaks the kiss again, he leaves you breathless. Your head buzzes and you cling to him. "More?" he murmurs against your ear, kissing the spot just behind your earlobe.

"Yes, please," you moan in a trembling voice. His wide grin settles on his face and his eyes glint. His left arm around your waist pulls you away from the fading warmth of the dead woman beneath you, his right hand around your thigh grips tighter. He lays you down, right next to your victim and he looks down at you. The loose belt of your kimono unbuckles. A low growl comes from him as he sees your naked body lying in front of him.

In the middle of a pool of blood, your petite limbs writhe. Your curls lie around your face, framing it and giving you a kind of halo - so he is right about you being an angel. Your pink cheeks and sparkling eyes shine so full of life, a total contrast to his appearance. Your breasts jiggle slightly with each movement, while your nipples harden as they touch the cooler air. His gaze wanders lower and saliva gathers in his mouth as he looks at the lips between your legs, his hard cocks pushing through between the fabric sides of the kimono. Blood rushes into them, making them stick out hard from his strong body. He loves it when you look at him and your eyes glaze over slightly, your mouth opens and the blush on your face deepens. He especially loves the expression you take on once you see his fat cocks. Every time you look at him as if they could never fit in you and every time he convinces you otherwise.

"Mmm, you look so beautiful," he murmurs, his nails scraping across your waist and stomach. You whimper and your hands form fists as they grip the now fully soaked fabric of your kimono. His fingers wander over the thin and sensitive skin above your cunt, caressing it, making you wince. A moan escapes you and you throw your head back as he caresses the soft lips. He strokes satisfied along your slit, smearing your juices all over you before his thumb lands on your clit. Your moans grow louder and your eyes roll up into your head as he slowly massages the little knob in a circular motion. After watching you all day, his patience is short now. Almost naked, covered only with the thin fabric of your kimono, you have taken lives again and again. None of his imagination makes him hornier than this sight.

"How wet you are already, little human," he taunts, eyeing the twitches of your body, "This can't be all because of me, can it?" His name drops silently from your mouth and his body vibrates with laughter. He increases the pressure on your clit and your lower body twitches uncontrollably again. Already, a knot forms in your stomach and the feeling is truly amazing. A tingling sensation spreads from your core, flowing to all corners of your body and you open your legs wider for him. You angle them and your own hand spreads your labia, leaving bloody fingerprints. The sight makes Sukuna's cock drip and twitch against his belly. He looks closely at how his thumb massages your clit, how your hole shines and turns white because of all the juice. His long nail keeps stroking your swollen lips, making them turn red and swollen. "Fuck, it's not all because of me. Your little cunt gets wet when you kill, right?" His body bends over you and his left hand dips into the puddle of blood beside your head to brace himself. He looks at your half-closed eyes and licks red drops from your cheek.

His finger moves from your clit further down and he puts only his fingertip into your tight hole. With this small movement you push your back through and moan loudly. He dips it in and out again and stretches your hole as good as he can. Sukuna has to moan as well when shortly after three of his fingers press into you and stretch you better and further, "You are such a naughty little girl." He spreads his fingers, pressing against your tight, soft walls and you stare dumbly at him as he begins to thrust into you in this position. Satisfied, he watches your face, noticing every little movement. Tears form in your eyes and your brow furrows as his middle finger sinfully massages the rough spot inside you.

Again, your legs twitch uncontrollably and your hands reach for his shoulders. You dig your nails into his skin and he enjoys the pain. “Deeper”, he groans. His eyes stare at you lustfully as your nails dig into his flesh and muscles. Your fingers leave deep scratches and in some places, blood comes to the surface. The knot in your stomach tightens as he doesn't stop. Your body tenses before you groan loud and long. You stretch out towards him, your vision exploding black and your eyes turning white as you twist your eyeballs.

As you come off your high, his long, broad fingers pull out of you. He pushes off the ground and grabs your thigh. A bloody handprint forms on your leg, which he smears slightly as he grips harder. His eyes settle on his fingers, from which your juice flows in thick drops. He catches them with his long tongue and moans with pleasure, "Better than any blood I could drink." Once he's done, he grins again and your legs wrap around his waist, trapping him. His tall stature above you looks down at you, "You were such a good girl today, you deserve a reward for that, don't you?"

You nod at him and your gaze falls on his large hand, which is gripping one of his cocks and pumping it lightly in his hand. The thick veins stand out and his seed begins to drip from him onto your lower belly. You have to bite your tongue to keep from losing your mind again right away. He puts the tip to the red lips of your cunt and feels the heat you radiate. Slowly he pushes into you and tears your hole. Despite all the fluid between your legs, which has increased again due to your orgasm, and the stretching by his fingers, he barely fits inside you. All that lube doesn't stop it from starting to burn and your walls from starting to pulsate. You whimper in pleasure and close your eyes. The mixture of pain and desire is like a drug.

"Such a good girl," Sukuna whispers to you and places his hand on your belly, feeling his dick bury itself inside you. As he bumps the back, his balls twitch and he moans out. Seeing your little body in front of him, taking his cock so well, drives him crazy. You've hardly gotten used to him, squeezing his cock, but he can barely stand not to move. Normally he would wait longer, give you time, but today it is impossible.

"I'm sorry pet, I can't be that patient with you today," he mumbles and wraps his arms around your waist. He lifts your body up and your bare chest meets his. This changes the angle and he slides a little deeper, stretching you wide and pressing painfully against your cervix. You can't stifle the cry as you sit in his lap and he burrows deep inside you. Without pausing for a moment, he lets you bounce up and down on him a few times. His lips are on your jiggling right breast and he sucks on your hard nipple, licking it and biting it a little too hard. Again, you scream out, the pain moves through your upper body. Fuck, he wants to fill you. He wants to fuck you stupid and leave you almost unconscious. His left hand slaps your ass cheek, he reaches into the fat and spreads your ass apart.

His other hand rub soothingly over your bloodied back before his right hand moves to his second cock. This one is waiting painfully hard for attention. He pumps this one up and down a few times as well, but the feeling hardly eases. His pre-cum gets smeared between your ass cheeks and serves him as a lubricant. You press tighter against him as you feel the fat tip against you again, this time further back. Your eyes squeeze shut as he uses the mixture of blood and juice to push painfully into you. Your little asshole is still way too tight and every inch forward makes your body twitch.

"Fuck," he lets out a long moan as each ring of your anus clenches around him, taking him in. He grits his teeth to keep from thrusting right in one go, "So small and tight. I should have taken this hole right away."

"Su-sukuna," you gasp against his chest, and his gaze falls back to you. He loses his control when he sees your red cheeks, when he sees you looking at him with your eyes half-closed and your tongue sticking out. Your face shows the most different emotions and features when you are near him but seeing your fuck face makes him proud every time and moves something deep inside him.

In one smooth thrust, he pushes into you a second time and you yelp. Deep inside he's sorry, but his head is too fogged with lust to grasp those thoughts more clearly. He growls loudly as your walls twitch wildly, milking him. Saliva runs down your chin and you claw into the skin of his chest, leaving deep marks here as well. You're so incredibly full and stretched. His cock forms a small bulge on your belly, which is further enhanced by his second cock in your ass. You have never seen anything so beautiful. How beautifully thick it will look when Sukuna has shot all his baby seeds into you.

"Show me how much you love this," he speaks in a dark voice. He could scare the shit out of one, but luckily only you see him like that and you would never be afraid of him.

With trembling hands, you hold onto his shoulders again. Your weak legs tighten and you push off of him, moaning loudly as his two cocks pull out of you before stretching you to the max again as soon as you let yourself sink back down onto him. His hands stabilize you as you move, while his eyes move back and forth between your face and where you are joined. His hands clasp your waist tightly again and he squeezes too hard, which is why he leaves dark marks.

"So big and thick," you moan, making him grin again.

"Just the way you love it, my little whore". You roll your eyes at his words and circle your hips to create more friction inside you. This time something else flutters in your belly. The feeling is short but intense and shoots right into your clit and cunt.

"Do you like that? Do you like it when I call you that?" You nod to him as his hands massage your waist, "Open your eyes and look at me."

You do as you are commanded and open your heavy eyelids. His eyes are by now jet black and look at you like dark obsidian. "I have never fucked a whore like you." Your eyes turn again and he smirks. "Never have I fucked a human who can take my two cocks so good and not tear right into two." Your body moves faster on top of him, the muscles in your legs starting to burn as you rock your body against his. But you keep bouncing on him and pushing his cocks inside you. Sweat forms on your skin and mixes with the blood. Sukuna watches a thick drop roll from your collarbone to your breasts and between them. His full balls slap against your ass cheeks and the sound alone makes the knot in your stomach tighten. He watches your next orgasm, which makes your body jerk, and takes over for you, fucking you through it as you give out. His speed is much more brutal and almost sends you over the edge again. This time your voice echoes through the room, his name falling from your lips again and again.

"Would you like me to pleasure you some more?" his deep voice vibrates against you. Your fogged head nods at him, even though your exhausted body is slowly losing its energy and strength.

"Of course," you hear him murmur with a wide grin. He pulls you off of him, leaving your holes empty and open. You moan out as you lose his physical contact. He forces you onto all fours, placing his hand in the small of your back, thus pushing your ass into the air. Your hands smear the blood beneath you. The image of what's happening tightens the knot in his stomach. Your ass stretches out to meet him, the hole stretched wide and looking for something thick. Your core is white by now. As your holes contract again, causing you to groan, creamy juice squeezes out of them and Sukuna almost comes. He just licks the liquid away with the tip of his tongue, clawing into your skin to control himself. Out of curiosity, he pushes his tongue into the dirtiest part of your body and his hips thrust forward into nothingness as your ass swallows him greedily, glad to have something shoving into it again. How he'd love to shove his cock back in there. Before he loses the last of his nerve, he pulls out.

He takes one of his cocks and pushes it back into your cunt, filling you to your cervix in one go. You moan again, enjoying the sensation. A feeling that he didn't know before comes out deep from his belly. He wants an heir. He wants you to squeeze his heir out of your little cunt. He wants to breed you round and thick, right next to the dead woman who was just full of life. When his second head joins his cock in your cunt, you lose touch with the earth.

At first with effort, he presses his cock to the other one inside you. You've never felt anything like this in your life. Sukuna behind you almost becomes an animal and lets out an animalistic sound, “You have to take it, my little whore. I want to fuck you pregnant, I want to push a baby inside you. You must suck up all my semen.” His voice is hardly recognizable, but his words leave you speechless. The thought takes over your head and a hot feeling arises in you. How it will be to carry his heir in you and then to be fucked by him. Can he then pump your belly even thicker?

Slowly he presses in to his other cock and splits you in two. Your screams grow louder and never subside as he fucks your brains out slowly, but with a steady rhythm. It feels like even the last vestige of your soul is leaving your body. Trembling fingers reach between your legs and you touch his wet cocks, which thrust into you again and again. The feeling alone makes you stretch your ass higher again, your back painfully pushed through. When Sukuna puts his hand in your hair and painfully pulls your head back, there is nothing more than mush in your head. His pointed teeth sink into your shoulder and he bites deep enough that blood oozes from the wound, which he licks away. "Such a good whore," he murmurs against your ear, "you taste so good, I'll never let you go." His words send a warm shiver down your body and pleasant goosebumps form, making your nipples hard again. His thrusts become harder, more brutal as he abuses your hole.

Your knots tighten as one body works with the other. Your voices echo through the room, mixing with the sounds his cocks create in you. A few more thrusts, then you come a third and final time for the moment. "Luckily, I decided to keep you back then," he growls as his balls pump themselves empty inside you. Two cocks at once fill your belly to the top, no one could keep that amount of juice inside, which is why most of it misses. He fucks you through his orgasm. As time goes by, his thrusts become less precise and slower before he pulls out of you and you hit the floor. Breathing heavily, you lie with your cheek in the remaining blood, most of it already drawn into your clothes or spread on you or him. Sukuna sits down backwards, bends one leg, and casually places his left arm over his knee. His gaze wanders over the living mess in front of him and his dead heart makes a little beat. He would make you walk around naked all the rest of the day to see your fat belly and his handprints on you. Again and again, he will come to you, bend you forward and look at your full, stretched hole. His pride could not be greater. His little human takes equal both cocks in her hole and will give birth to his heir. No, many heirs. Once you've turned around, forced your tired body to move, and can look at him again with wide dark eyes, a smile settling on your lips, he grins back, " A little break before I bring in your next victim, how does that sound?"

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

; good enough

© @pedropcl

lee bodecker x fem!reader.

summary. your father invited you to his birthday party and things ended badly.

words. about 2.3k.

warnings, tags. nsfw, +18!!! drunk state, language, unprotected sex, daddy!kink, very brief degradation, mention of bodily fluids, very brief mention of violence. and i think that's all.

a / n. first time writing for this man that has me obsessed, so i hope y'all like it! none of my writings contains reader's body descriptions to be inclusive. if you find something out of place, please send me a message and i'll change it.

You didn't want to be there, but it was your father's birthday and you couldn't miss it. More than thirty minutes had passed since the last time you saw your husband standing in a corner of the large living room, sipping from his glass of whisky and judging every guest around in silence. Lee hated your parents, your family, their friends. And you didn't blame him. Your family never accepted him, always repeating that he wasn't good enough for you, nor your interests. Except for your mom. She wasn't the only one who didn't treat him like dirt.

Once that you escaped from your father's arms, showing you as a trophy and trying to set you up on a date with one of his best friend's sons, you stepped out of the house to the back garden. It was cold outside, having to close your jacket around your chest as you closed both arms over it. Following the footprints on the grass, you reached the improvised parking where different cars were stationed. The smoke coming from nowhere called your attention, glimpsing Lee sitting on the hood of his black Ford. Cigarette in his left hand and bottle of whisky in his right.

You doubted for a second to interrupt his moment of peace for the first time in two weeks. Two long weeks where you barely had spent time together. He started holding over his shifts because, apparently, there was too much paperwork to attend. You couldn't help but think that he was raving mad about you, or about something you did unconsciously. But the real problem was that your husband never used to talk about his feelings or what was going in his mind.

“I think you've drunk enough”. You uttered watching him raise the bottle to his lips.

Lee chuckled ironically, shaking his head. “Lucky me I don' care”.

Frowning and with your mouth pressed closed, you walked towards his position to face him. He had never talked to you like that, but he was being honest, shrugging his shoulders to point it out a little more.

“I do. I do care”.

“Don' worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna shame you in front of your family”. He scoffed bitterly, finally sipping from his drink. “Watya' doin' here anyway? Party's indoors”.

“You're here tho”.

“And who fuckin' cares, uh? You were having so much fun inside with that… pretty boy who works in Wall Street”. Your husband mocked taking a drag from his cigarette. “We should divorce, don' you think? So you coulda go with him to the big city, and don' be stuck in… How d'your father call it? Knockemshit. Stuck with a… fat sheriff of a shitty town”.

Lee didn't notice the tears blurring your gaze till he raised his face. The bitter smile curving his lips suddenly disappeared, putting his pale blue eyes away from you because it was too painful for him to watch you cry. Your husband gulped hardly, kissing his teeth as he threw the cigar somewhere on the ground. You couldn't believe he really wanted to divorce you, wrapping your heart with a suffocating sorrow that barely let you breathe. He was your life and, after three years together, he seemed to not give a shit about it sometimes.

“I ain' like them”. You whispered sniffing.

“Tha' doesn' change the fact that you don' deserve a man like me. Your father is right. 'M a fucking loser compared to anyone inside his damn house”.

You loved Lee with all your heart, soul, mind, body. He was everything you want in your existence —your life. So damn obsessed with his touch, his kisses, his smell of wind and leather, his smile, that beautiful pair of pale blue eyes. You refused to believe he was talking seriously.

“You should be there. I— Imma go home, tell your mo—”.

Before your husband could finish his goodbye, you interrupted him by slapping his face. He didn't see that coming and you'd never imagine yourself hitting him. But you needed it, seeming the only way to stop him from abandoning you there. He kept his face away from you, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His drunkenness suddenly disappeared, pressing his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue whilst rubbing his hand over the reddened skin. You were so mad right now that you could set on fire the whole world.

And you were about to do it a second time when Lee caught your wrist in the air, painfully gripping his fingers around it to push you closer —chest against chest. Then, he raised his index finger. “Don' you fuckin' dare to try it again, y'hear me?”

You were furiously breathing, but not filling your lungs with air in reality, keeping your eyes on the blue ones that used to steal your heart every single day. It was like a contest of dominance you knew he always won. Any time.

Your husband didn't give you the chance to say sorry, slamming his lips on yours. A moan died in his tongue when it invaded your cavity while releasing your arm to fly his rough big hands to your ass, almost grabbing it all with his long fingers. Your digits went to the lapels of his leather jacket, not lasting too much there till finishing on the back of his head.

Lee was hungry for you, just like you were for him after two long weeks barely touching each other. Your husband devoured, sucked, and bit your lips, urging you to turn around enough to push you on top of the hood of his car. His hands pulled up the skirt of your dress, wanting to reach the waistband of your panties, receiving the great surprise that you weren't wearing any.

“You little dirty girl… Don' wantin' your Sheriff to lose time, uh?” He grunted with such an animal and eager tone, as he took care of the belt and the zip of his pants.

“I need you”. You sobbed against his lips, feeling his hands maneuvering between your legs.

At least, you were fast enough to cover your mouth with a hand when Lee rammed his rock dick into your soaked cunt, drowning in your palm a loud cry of pure satisfaction for being filled by your husband. Back and forth, he hit your body once and once, impaling you against the Ford still being furious by the way your father and friends treated him as if it was your fault. Lee was mad, really mad, digging his fingers in your hips to pin you on place and don't move, continuing fucking you harder and harder —challenging you to not be able to be quiet and make everybody heard how good he used to made you feel.

“Goddammit… you're so damn ti— tight, baby doll… So tight fo— for your daddy, ain' ya?”

“Yes… Yes, daddy”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck.

His strong scent filling your lungs caused you to roll your eyes white, letting your soul leave your body while his cock attacked fiercely your pussy with no mercy. Your vocals were in sync with the screeching noise the car produced in every thrust straight to your guts. The pace was insane, intense than never before, and more pleasurable than you could imagine in your life.

Lee was aware how much you loved him, that you felt devotion for him. But sometimes —sometimes like those— he couldn't help but think he could lose you as soon as you realized who he was in reality. You didn't care. You weren't blind. You knew about his dirty laundry, his past, his sister (...). And you still wanted him with all your heart and body.

“Fu— Fuck, gonna put a… baby inside you”. He growled, wrapping his right around your throat to urge you to face him. “Y'want it, uh? D'you want dad— daddy to put a baby in that… beautiful belly?”

“Yes… please, Lee”. You whined with teary eyes, being too much pleasure for your body to handle. “Please, daddy… I wa— want you to… get me pre— pregnant with your child”.

Your husband's lips curved up in a petty smirk, pulling out from your dripping cunt, causing you to sob in disappointment. Lee managed to put you down on your shaky feet to turn you and force you to bend over the hood of his car. Ass upped, legs spread. He only took a second to stare at your glistening and abused folds in your arousal, prior to impaling you again. With a hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your head, your husband obligated you to arch your back as he continued banging your anatomy once and again.

At this point, you had forgotten your name, where you are, and if someone could hear how you cried pleased any time he crashed against your g-spot. It was a mix of pleasure and pain as Lee wasn't having any kind of compassion with your cunt, clenching unconsciously around his hard length. He knew then how close you were to cumming for him —because of him—, increasing the pace while you tried to find a place to put your hands on and find some balance to stay in place. As soon as the hand tangled in your hair landed back to your throat, you gripped five fingers around his wrist, enjoying the brief lack of air because of it.

“C'mon, my swe— sweet whore… Y'wanna cum for daddy, don't ya?”

His raspy and wrecked voice fell into your ear like an angelic melody, not being able to hold your moans anymore within your mouth. The knot inside your lower belly was bigger and bigger and suffocating, feeling how it could explode at any time. Lee shoved his cock non-stopping producing a sloppy obscene sound when his pelvis crashed against your ass, along the chink of his belt against the back of your thigh.

“Daddy… Daddy…” You called him while the tears started to fall again through your cheeks, this time, of absolute satisfaction.

You couldn't help but bite your lip strongly till the metallic taste of blood covered your tongue, letting yourself go as the knot bursted within your belly. The orgasm threw you above the edge with your husband's palm covering your mouth to not be heard or it would be really awkward to be caught by all the guests, even if he didn't care. He wouldn't mind showing that pretty boy from New York that nobody could fuck his little dirty girl better than himself. Oh, how funny it would be to see his face while your husband was ramming his cock into your abused pussy, cumming inside your tight walls, digging his teeth in your neck to mark his territory.

Lee came with a sensual and passionate hoarse gasp causing you goosebumps bristling your skin, burying himself balls deep to hold it inside the mix of your juices filling up your center. It felt like being in Heaven, although you weren't sure if you could walk after such an intense quickly, feeling your walls burning as his dick still twitching and stretching your cunt.

Your husband wasn't a man of kisses after sex, that's why he surprised you when tilted your face to his and pressed his lips on yours, panting, not caring about the lack of breath. It wasn't a lustful kiss either, more than a tender and fondly one, tasting your mouth, playing with your tongue.

Pulling out his semi-erection, Lee helped you to clean yourself with a tissue before using it to clean your arousal on him and toss it to the ground. As he put on his pants, you fixed your dress and your hair, turning around.

“You meant it?” You dared to ask, still having sorrow covering your voice. “Gettin' divorced… You mean it?”

“What?” He inquired, squinting confusedly until he realized what you were talking about. He chuckled holding your chin with two fingers. “You married me, darlin'. There's no other way you're gonna spend your life but with me. Willingly or not, you hear me?”

Lee raised both eyebrows very sure of his word before you nodded your head with a fleeting smile crossing your lips.

“Can we go home now…?”

“'S that what you want?”

You nodded your head a second time, while your husband placed his arms around you with hidden possessiveness to guide you back to your childhood's house. And of course, your father was enraged when you told him that you were leaving with your husband. He yelled at you and nobody tried to stop him till the moment he had the brilliant idea of pretending to lay a hand on you.

Lee punched him. Lee broke his nose. Lee made your father fall to the floor between the pretty boy's arms. And Lee never felt better in his whole damn life.

“Don't you ever come back to this house, if you leave now with this… bastard”.

“She doesn' need you”. Your husband cooed wrapping your neck with an arm, leaning slightly to borrow your purse. “Ma'am, my pleasure a see ya' again. The beef was delicious. G'night”.

You were yet processing what just happened, ashamed of the desire for your husband himself awakened inside you after watching him hitting your father. Lee could be a total asshole sometimes but one thing was undeniable: he loved you with all his heart and soul, he was obsessed with you since the very first time his oceanic eyes contemplated you walking down the street, smelling a bucket of roses you bought for yourself.

Never again you knew anything about your family. Not even when your son, called after your husband, was born. But you weren't sad. As Lee said, you didn't need them. You had your own family to take care of.

feedback is appreciated. if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment so i can know your opinion. reblogs are needed.

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[dreamypeaches]

good to love | jj maybank x reader x pope heyward

summary: you and jj decided to show pope what he’s been missing

warnings: SMUT, literal pure filth, cursing

word count: 3.8k (and it’s pretty much all dirty)

a/n: this might be one of my favorite and filthiest things i’ve ever written. jj x reader x pope is my new fave and it’s all i want to write for the rest of my life.

To say your relationship with Pope and JJ had changed would be a lie. Not much had changed at all really. You were still the best of friends, there was just a lot more kissing involved. Like, a lot more kissing. And it was fantastic. Despite both you and JJ being pretty experienced sexually, it never went beyond heavy making out. Neither of you wanted to rush Pope into anything since he was completely inexperienced, and you also didn’t want to leave him out. So most nights together, after a heavy make-out session where some clothes might be shed, the three of you ended up cuddled up on the bed, none of you meeting your release.

You and JJ discussed the potential in the bedroom as you waited for Pope to finish up a delivery. His hand rested on your thigh, rubbing smooth circles into the bare skin as he spoke.

“I mean, it’s gonna be fucking hot,” JJ comments, smirking at the idea of having you and Pope at the same time. You roll your eyes.

“Of course it’s going to be hot, J, but I don’t want to rush him. You know how he gets when he’s overwhelmed.”

“Well then we’ll help calm him down,” He says, a childish grin on his face as he holds up his newly rolled joint. You slap his chest, sending him a glare. He puts on an innocent face, giving the back of your hand a kiss in apology.

“Sunshine, I think you’re the one getting overwhelmed. It’s Pope, let’s just talk to him about it.”

“Talk to me about what?”

You and JJ’s heads snap up. Pope’s voice floated down from where he stood above you on the dock.

“Um…um, you know, we were talking about-” You start to stutter, only for JJ to save you.

“We were talking about sex. With you. We want to have sex with you but we don’t want to make you feel like you have to if you're not ready.”

Dropping your hands into your lap, you sigh, nodding in agreement while refusing to meet Pope’s eyes. There were times where you were thankful for JJ’s blunt nature. When Rafe Cameron tried flirting with you at a kegger and JJ told him to fuck off. When Pope was freaking out about not being smart enough to get into college and JJ told him how much of an idiot he was being. These were all great times for JJ’s bluntness. Now was not one of those times.

The silence cut through you like a knife, neither of the boys speaking up and your voice seemed to be stuck in your throat. You weren’t sure why exactly this was so difficult for you. The three of you could always talk about anything. You’d even told them about the first time you got your period back in middle school. But you loved Pope with all of your heart, and so did JJ, and you just wanted everything to be perfect.

“Okay.”

You’re heart suddenly lifts, along with your head as you gaze into Pope’s beautiful eyes.

“What?” You mumble, looking back at JJ who wore his signature smirk, excitement glowing in his eyes.

“I want to have sex. With you. I want to have sex with both of you and I am ready,” Pope says with a sly smile as he echos JJ’s words. He hops down into the boat, flopping down beside you and JJ. Scratching his neck, his nervous smile makes your stomach flutter.

“I’ve thought about it a lot, and I know you two are a lot more experienced than me, but I don’t care. I love you both and I want to be with you and I trust you to…to take care of me. God that sounds weird,” Pope chuckles and you take his hand. Pressing your lips to his, you can feel him smile against your own smiling lips. JJ pulls you away, moving in to take your place, giving Pope a deep kiss, pressing a hand to the back of his head. Kissing JJ’s cheek, and force the two boys apart, giving them a fake stern look.

“Save it for tonight, boys.”

The rest of the day was filled with an air of anticipation. Teasing touches, hungry kisses, there were a few moments where you thought everything would happen right then and there. Luckily, you spent the day just the three of you, Kie and John B off working, so they didn’t have to suffer through your disgusting PDA. By the time you got back to your apartment (that Pope and JJ practically lived at), you were ready to rip their clothes off. Judging by the way they grabbed you the moment the door was closed, the boys were ready to explode just as much as you were.

JJ’s lips are on your neck while yours caress Pope’s, feeling his blood pound through his veins as you do. One hand moves down his front, dipping below the waistband to palm his half-hard cock through his underwear. The moan that leaves his mouth is heavenly.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Pope groans. JJ nips at your next one last time before pulling away, resting his chin on your shoulder, eyeing Pope with a smirk.

“Well believe it, baby. You’re getting your dick wet tonight.” He says, forcing a giggle to spill from you. You move away from the door, pulling both of the boys with you down the hall and into the bedroom as you begin to shed your clothes. By the time you fall onto the bed, you’re down to your underwear, bra halfway off, while both boys are stripped down to their boxers. Pope hovers over you, helping you remove the offensive piece of clothing. The groan that leaves his mouth when he sees you bare for the first time makes you blush.

“So beautiful,” Pope exhales, a single finger dragging up your sternum and circling around your breasts. His breathing starts to pick up, movements hesitant as his hands hover over your nipples.

“Don’t be nervous, bubba, just do what feels right,” JJ says. He’s lying on his side next to you, eyes dark as he watches Pope slowly lower his hand down to squeeze your boob. He starts to gently massage it, making you moan at the soft touch.

“That’s it, now touch her nipple. Watch me.” JJ pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it lightly. You moan at the feeling, the sound becoming louder as Pope copies the action on your other breast.

“Fuck…” he muttered, eyes focused on his actions, trying to get that sound to leave your pretty mouth again, and succeeding. JJ continues to work your nipple, encouraging Pope to copy his movements, leaving you a needy mess beneath them. As much as you loved what they were doing, you were ready for much, much more.

“Pope…JJ…please, I need more.” Pope groans at your neediness, not used to having a girl begging for his touch. The way you whispered his name like a prayer made his already hard member stiffen even more, almost painful against the fabric of his boxers. JJ leans down, nipping at your perky nipple, smirking at the yelp that you make. He shoves Pope lightly, mouth leaving your nipple with a pop.

“You gonna give her what she needs?” JJ says. Pope’s eyes suddenly widen, glancing between JJ’s smirking face and your hooded, needy eyes. Noticing his panicked look, JJ patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, bubs, I’ll tell you what to do. Come here, sunshine.” The second part is directed at you, situating himself on the bed so his back is against the headboard as he pulls your back against him. Pushing on your thighs, JJ spreads your legs for Pope, revealing your soaked panties covering your pussy.

“Look how wet she is for us. Doesn’t she look fucking delicious?”

“Fuuuck, yeah she does,” The low tone of Pope’s voice sends a shiver down your spine, eyes meeting his hungry ones. The thought of him absolutely devouring you makes your heart pound. The hunger in his eyes goes right down your core. JJ’s finger trailed down there too. Pushing the cloth to the side, he slides his fingertip through your folds, gathering your wetness before holding his finger out towards Pope.

“Taste her,” JJ demands. Pope follows through, lips wrapping around his wet digit, eyes never leaving yours as he licks your wetness from JJ’s fingers. You can hear JJ’s breathing quicken, the air hitting the back of your ear. His pardon is pressing against your rear as he holds you against his chest, lips exploring your neck.

Pope’s lips meet yours and you taste yourself against his tongue. Your moan vibrates across his lips, making him moan.

“You taste so good,” He mutters against your mouth. You smirk, squirming against JJ’s arm, trying to get closer to Pope.

“Why don’t you taste some more,” You whisper back seductively. In response, Pope’s lips trail down your jaw, moving down the other side of your neck that wasn’t been marked by JJ. He reaches your breasts, taking a nipple in your mouth, giving it some tender care with his tongue before moving to the next one and doing the same. He continues to trail down your body until he reaches the waistband of your underwear. Pope’s fingers hook under it, pulling the clothing down your legs, throwing them somewhere in the room. Leaning down on his stomach, he gazes at your dripping center in awe. JJ’s lips detach from your neck, cheek resting against you as he looks down at Pope.

“Start slow, lick up her cunt a few times. Tease her a little bit.”

Pope does as he says, tongue sticking out to taste you. He moves up and down slowly, a long, breathy moan leaving your lips as he does. You bucked against his face, wanting more, only for JJ to press harder against your waist, biting against your shoulder as he squeezes your throat tighter for a moment.

“We don’t want to rush him do we?” JJ growls. You start to shake your head, Pope’s tongue delving between your folds making you interrupt with a moan. JJ’s hand grasps your neck, squeezing lightly as his mouth presses close to your ear. “Use your words, sunshine.”

“No, we don’t,” you mutter. Pope pulls away from you, peppering kisses to your inner thigh.

“I want to take my time with you. Been waiting for this for too damn long,”

“That’s right, bubba, take your time. This is all for you, she’ll get to cum when we let her. Now, work her clit. Just barely flick against it. I wanna feel her squirm.”

This little lesson continues on for what feels like hours. You do exactly as JJ wanted, squirming against his grip as he instructs Pope on all the best ways to explore your pussy. He purposely makes Pope avoid your clit, only allowing him to touch your sensitive bud every few minutes, just enough to keep you wanting and desperate against him.

You scream out as JJ orders Pope to move to your clit again. JJ chuckles darkly beside you, the vibrations of his laugh moving against your back.

“Please, please, I need to cum! Let me cum against your lips, Pope!” You whimper out.

Pope groans against your cunt, pulling away to look up at JJ, almost asking permission with his eyes.

“What do you think, Pope? Should we give her what she wants?”

“I don’t know, I’m having a lot of fun. But I wanna feel her cum.”

“I bet she looks so beautiful when she cum. I want her to scream your name. You hear that, sunshine, you’re gonna scream his name when he makes you cum. Then it’s my turn with you.” JJ bites at your ear lobe before instructing Pope to start using his fingers. He teases your entrance with the tip of one before slowly pushing it in, an elongated moan falling from your lips as he does. He pumps slowly, reveling in the feeling of your warm walls against him. He starts to pick up the pace as JJ tells him to, adding another finger and curling them against your special spot, your moans growing in volume as he does.

“Fuck, yes, Pope, right there!” you exclaim, head falling back against JJ’s shoulder as one of his hands grasps your breasts, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“Suck on her clit,” JJ demands, the other hand moving to copy his actions on the other breast. You shout out as Pope does as he’s told, the combination of JJ’s hands on your breasts, Pope’s fingers pumping into you, and his mouth working your clit makes you see stars, fireworks going off in your body as you orgasm.

“Fuck, Pope!” You scream in pleasure. He removes his fingers, lapping up your juices like you were an oasis in the desert he was on the verge of dying from dehydration. Pope sits back on his heels, hand moving up to wipe his shining chin before JJ stops him. Gripping his wrist, JJ pulls Pope towards him, crashing his lips onto his in a heated kiss. He moans as he tastes you on Pope’s tongue, pulling away and gripping your jaw, turning your face to him, and attacking your mouth with his own. He shoves your face away, pushing you onto your stomach and sitting up on his knees.

He grips your hips, pulling your ass back against his bulging member before gripping your jaw again, pulling your back against him. Squishing your cheeks between his finger and thumb, he smiles over at Pope.

“Are you ready for your first blow job, Pope? I bet her pretty lips will feel so good around your cock.”

Pope nods enthusiastically, pulling off his boxers and tossing them to the side. His large dick springs free, the size of it makes both you and JJ’s jaw’s drop.

“Fuck, Pope,” You groan out. Pope’s cheeks heat up as JJ chuckles.

“You’re going to take his cock so well, sunshine.” He pushes you down on your hands and knees, pulling his own boxers down and slapping his dick against your ass. “Mine may not be as big, but I know exactly how to use it. Now open your mouth and take that dick.”

You do as you’re told, opening wide and sliding forward, slowly impaling yourself on Pope’s member. Pope groans at the foreign feeling, accidentally jutting forward, his tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. Pope pulls back quickly, palm caressing your cheek as worry overcomes him.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He asks. You just giggle, nodding your head.

“It’s all good, Popey. Just relax, okay? I’m gonna make you feel good.” You move your mouth back onto his dick, taking it a few centimeters at a time. Swirling your tongue around his shaft, you moan as JJ slides the tip of his dick through your folds, running it open and down your wetness. Pope grips your hair harshly, eyes squeezing shut as he is washed in a brand new form of pleasure. JJ groans at the sight before him, your head bobbing on Pope’s dick as the other man’s head falls back in pleasure. JJ sinks into you, cursing as your warm walls surround his dick. JJ starts to thrust into you, rocking you against Pope’s cock as he does.

“How does that feel, bubs?” JJ asks.

“Like heaven,” Pope sighs, fingers gripping your hair harder as you take more of him down your throat. “Fuck I’m not gonna last very long.”

At Pope’s words, JJ suddenly pulls out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. He pulls you off Pope’s cock

“You wanna feel heaven, man? Just wait till your balls deep in her pussy,” JJ promises. He instructs Pope to lay on his back, manhandling you onto his lap. You press your hands against Pope’s chest, leaning down to capture his lips with your own. Kissing up his jaw, you stop at his ear, smiling as you speak.

“I can’t wait to feel your cock inside me, Pope. You’re gonna fill me up so good. Want you to cum in me. Can you do that, Pope?”

He can only nod as you lean back, biting your lip as you meet his eyes. Unexpectedly, you yelp out in both pain and pleasure as JJ slaps your ass, rubbing the stinging skin. His fingers move over to circle your tight hole and you gasp in shock.

“Such a dirty mouth. You’re a dirty fucking girl, aren’t you, sunshine? Are you a little slut for us?” JJ growls. Your moan as he slaps you again, forehead falling against Pope’s.

“Yes, I’m your little slut.”

“Think you can take both of us like the slut you are?” His finger dances at the entrance of your asshole, lifting a pornographic moan from your throat.

“Fuck yes. I want you both.” The grin on JJ’s face is devilish as he smacks your ass again.

“We’ll let Pope have some time with you first. It’s his first time, after all, we want him to feel special.” With that, JJ grips Pope’s dick, giving it a few strokes before lining it up with your entrance and pushing you down onto him.

Curses leave Pope as you sink down onto his incredible length, chest heaving as you almost cry out from the unimaginable pleasure. JJ kisses down your neck as he moves off the bed.

“Ride him good, sunshine,” He says before slapping your ass again, forcing you to move while he goes to rummage through a door. Bouncing slowly on his cock, your palms press against his abs as you grind your hips. Pope’s hands grip your own hips assisting you in your languid movements. You start to rock faster, moans filling the room as you angle your hips so his dick hits your g-spot.

JJ stands beside the bed, stroking his dick lazily as he watched the pornographic scene. He grips something in his other hand, putting it down for a moment to lean down and kiss Pope deeply. He does the same to you, gripping your jaw in his hand as he does.

He suddenly pushes you down so your chest is pressed against Pope’s, ass presented to JJ. He picks up the bottle and you shiver as something cold hits your asshole. JJ’s fingers return to the entrance, gathering some lube before slowly pushing two digits into your tight hole. You hiss out at the new feeling, almost collapsing completely against Pope, who is now thrusting up into your core.

JJ’s fingers pump in and out of you, helping you adjust as he kisses your lower back. He adds another finger, starting to pump again before Pope groans out.

“I’m getting close. Fuck she feels so good!”

JJ pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his tip.

“Slow down, bubba. I want to be inside her with you.” JJ inches himself into your asshole, giving shallow thrusts as he does. You muffle your screams into Pope’s neck, the new sensation of JJ up your ass while also having two dicks at once overpowering you. You feel nothing else except for the pleasure each boy is giving you. You feel more connected to your boys than you ever had before. They develop a steady rhythm, moving together as one just like in everything else they do. Curses fall from your mouthing quick succession as you feel pressure build up in your gut. JJ’s fingers sweep around to your clit, rubbing harsh circles as he can tell you are getting close.

“Cum on his dick, sunshine,” JJ commands.

Pope grips your hair, pulling you up for a wild kiss as his hips start to stutter.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. You feel so good, I love you so fucking much,” Pope mutters against your mouth right before he comes, shouting your name into the air. You scream out as well, JJ putting extra pressure on your clit and forcing you over the edge. He slows down as you and Pope ride out your orgasms before pulling out of you and practically ripping you off Pop, pinning you onto your back. JJ stares down at your and Pope’s combined juices leaking out of you and lets out an animalistic groan. Gripping your throat, he slams into your pussy and you scream out. His pace is immediately brutal, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

“God, you take dick so well, sunshine. You did so well for Pope, made him feel good. Can you do the same for me? I want to fill you up with my cum. I want you to be filled to the brim with me and Pope.” JJ’s downright sinful words make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Pope is suddenly laying beside you, his lips falling against your like a breath. The kiss is gentle and sweet, a stark contrast to JJ’s rough grip on your neck and hip as he slams into you. Pope’s fingers slide down your front until they meet your clit, rubbing soft circles onto it. He catches your moans and shouts as you approach your third orgasm. JJ’s thrusts are becoming sloppier, groans and curses sounding through the room.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to plummet into bliss, shouting incoherently against Pope’s mouth as you do. JJ isn’t far behind you, giving you a few more brutal, deep thrusts.

“I love you,” He proclaims right before he cums in you, filling you up just like he wanted. Giving you a few more shallow thrusts, he falls off to the side onto his back. The two of you are breathing heavily, Pope leaning over you to capture JJ’s lips, giving him a sweet kiss just as he gave you. He falls onto his back, taking your hand in his own. You take JJ’s and you swear you can feel the energy coursing through the three of you. It’s like a bond created by the universe, a string of fate connecting your hearts to each other that will be forever unbroken.

“So, how was it, Pope?” JJ questions. Pope just sighs before meeting JJ’s eyes across your body.

“Can we do it again?”

Both boys grin, but you just groan and laugh.

“I’m gonna need a break, boys. At least 3-7 business days to recover,” You say, arm falling over your eyes as exhaustion washes over you.

“Who said we needed you?” JJ says before rolling over you, bumping you to the side so he can hover over Pope, meeting him for a passionate kiss. The familiar feeling of arousal creeps into you as you watch the loves of your life share their love with each other. Fingers trailing down your torso, you start to play with your clit before a hand smacks it away. Pope’s eyes meet yours as he continues to make up with JJ, his fingers replacing your own, rubbing circles into the sensitive nub. Sighing in content, you throw your head back, preparing your mind and body for a long night.

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[riofann]

Rio Random 4

Things got a lot better after that, to your surprise. But you had both decided that you were basically going to do a redo and actively  work on your relationship. It was a bit difficult at first. But you felt better when you saw Mick removing drugs from your house. He also got you a security system that you could look at from your phone to see who has been in and around the house. You didn’t smell Beth around your house as often either. You actually didn't hear much about Beth, as far as you were concerned things were being dealt with.   

Rio would stop by two times a week at least on top of dates breakfast, lunch, brunch, dinner, or dessert. He was a romantic at heart actually, you would find flowers at home or at work sitting on your desk. He often used to look at you and smile which made you blush. You also met Marcus and Rhea one night at a state fair. Rhea was like Rio, hard to read you could see why the two ended up together. All together your relationship was far from perfect but you could honestly say you were happy. 

One late afternoon you rushed home from work. Rio had sent you a text saying he had left a present for you. He often did this when he found lingerie that he liked and wanted you to wear it. Some dates he had dressed you from head to toe, others he provided the undergarments. Not that your taste was bad but he enjoyed doing this. 

When you open the door to your home you hear voices coming from the bottom of your house before you could turn around and walk away you come face to face with a strange woman. 

“Uh hi” Ruby greets uneasily 

“Who are you?” You ask 

“Uh Krystal”

Quickly Beth comes around the corner “Oh Y/N I was just ummm....”

You close your door now pissed, what are you doing in my house. Mick had moved all the drugs from your home, Rio had promised you nothing was left in your house. You looked around to see your house in disarray before turning your attention back to Beth  and these other women.

“Oh well Rio wanted me to drop off something”

“Did he? Inside my house? He doesn’t even have a key, so how’d you get in?” 

“Well Mick helped with that” “Okay what are you dropping off” 

“Uh,” “Right let me just give him a call I’m sure he would love to hear about this”

“NO! Let's not bother him you know he is busy right Be... be be because he wouldn't like that right Krys?” Annie interjects

“Or should I call the police?”

Without warning Beth pulled out her gun and pointed it at you

“What are you doing?” Ruby asked in horror 

“Alright Sit” she says motioning with the gun 

“Are you gonna tell me what you're doing here in my house Elizabeth?”

Instinctively the two women looked at her as she looked shocked as well “How did you?” 

“Elizabeth Boland, you have  5 children with your ex husband Dean right? Used to be a stay at home wife? Did I get that right?” 

“SIT!” she demands “No, what are you gonna do? shoot me?”

“SIT!” she turns to look at Annie and Ruby before turning her attention back to you “Who told you?” 

“Oh uh Mrs. Doubtfire...  Yea i was stopping by to give you that book i borrowed and she said there was no such thing as Krystal had no idea what i was talking about then she told me everything”

“That damn woman” 

“SIT!” 

“NO!  If you're gonna point a gun at me then I expect you to shoot.” 

Ruby tugs at her arm “Beth lets just go” “NO ITS HERE” she yells while yanking her arm back  “you think you are so special, that's what he does you know. Make you feel special then he just dumps you like you're nothing!”

“But I’m not you Beth, and i'm not Rio, so whatever you're looking for its not here and whatever beef you have take it up with him”

“I SAID SIT!” 

“I'm not deaf i don't know why you're yelling” 

“Beth” Annie tries to calm the situation Beth with a bewildered look turns to look at Annie “NO!”

“This is bad” Ruby comments 

“You can't just threaten her life because of some guy....Beth” Annie states  

“I am not all I need her to do is sit Annie!....I know that it’s here it just has to be...” 

As they argued within themselves you felt like it was the perfect opportunity to sneak away as you got close to the door. You turned abruptly to open it when you heard commotion followed by  sharp pain on your side, you looked down to see blood seeping through your clothes. You slowly fall to the floor back resting against the wall. 

“OH MY GOD BETH!” “SHE WAS GETTING AWAY” she defends “HE IS GOING TO KILL US” Annie states looking at her sister like she had 5 heads “I’M SO SORRY Y/N” she says rushing towards you 

“YOU BITCH” You kick her in the chest causing her to fall back, you groan and hold onto your side 

“This isn't good please don't kick me none of this was supposed to happen” Ruby says slowly crouching down next to you

“Put pressure on it” Annie instructs

“I need towels!” 

“It's gonna be okay” Ruby tries her best to sooth you “I can't believe you” 

“I didn't” Beth says while holding onto your wound

Annie rushed back with towels in hand

“Uh guys we have to take her to the hospital” You don’t know when it happens but you start to fade away “Y/N! Can you stand?” “Y/N!” Annie calls your name “she's not... Y/N stay awake 

“What's wrong with you?” Ruby scolds

“What? Ruby..” 

“Why are you trigger happy”

“It was an accident, help me get her in the car!” 

“Well we can't go out the front door”

“Then help me get her through the fucking back door Annie”

“Oh my god” Annie says throwing her hands up 

When 30 minutes pass Rio is beyond infuriated with you. You were not picking up his calls or answering his texts and from what he knew you were at home.He doesn’t  know why you flaked on him, he thinks you were in a drunken slumber wondering how you got back into it, you had shown signs of improvement. 

When he gets to your house however he opens the door, he hears Coconut’s barking and he immediately spots the pool of blood by the door

“Go find her is all he needs to say to Mick”  

He walks through your home, there were multiple holes cut in your walls, holes in the cushion seat on the couch, furniture overturned. When he walks into the bedroom everything is in disarray just like the living area. Carefully he walks down the steps and spots your bag. He thinks you were ambushed. His mind goes into overdrive and is thinking of who would have the gull to do such a thing as far as he was concerned everyone knew enemy wise especially in this line of business that children and wives/girlfriends were out of the question. So whoever had the gull to do such a thing was bold and he’s wondering who it could be. He makes a few calls before he’s sitting in front of your laptop trying to log in. another phone call and he’s given the password. When he looks through the security footage nothing but rage takes over. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After pacing the floor in silence Ruby explodes with emotion “He is going to kill us!” 

“He doesn't know where we are” Beth counters

“I have a child Beth and I need to call Stan and let him know what’s going on!” 

“So do I Ruby, I have 5 to be exact,  he wont do anything she's just a placeholder anyway”

Ruby looks at her in disbelief “Are you kidding me he broke up with YOU to be with HER she is no placeholder”

“She's not special he can find another woman  like her anytime soon” Beth states dismissively 

“Beth i don't like this you need to call him and tell him it was a  mistake” Annie jumps into the conversation 

“Relax he doesn't know where we are he’s not stupid plus Dean will throw his ass in jail”

Putting her hands up Ruby states “I can’t believe you” before she walks away A brief moment of silence before Beth’s phone starts ringing

When they all look at the phone only unknown flashes through the screen after the 5th time the screen is black for good

“Elizabeth please for our sake just tell him” Ruby pleads “we can’t be hidden forever” 

“NO! Now shut up and let me think!” 

“Or what you're gonna shoot me” Ruby expresses frustrated 

“It was an accident!” 

Ruby scoffs, “Like shooting him too? I'm starting to think you’re trigger happy”

“Don't start accusing me you shot someone in the foot!” 

“That was an accident! We all know it was, but you just can't let this life go huh. You can't let this power go so whoever stands in your way you're gonna get rid of them” 

Beth walked up to Ruby looking at her right in the eye “You're right so move out of my way” she didn't have time to be arguing with her so if that meant intimidating her she would. 

Annie quickly got between the two and separated them. “Guys i cant right now please not now, i can't deal with this, we just need to stick together” 

Beth was right Rio couldn't locate them at first but he had found you. You were in the surgical icu stabilizing after your surgery. Because you were considered a Jane Doe no one was really allowed to see you, but Rio had his connections and he walked in to see you fast asleep before walking out. He says nothing as Mick drives him over to Beth’s house. Nothing was out of the ordinary except Beth was missing. He also had other cars posted outside of Ruby’s house and Annie's. 

“Aii bet” he hangs up the phone irritated that no one could locate Beth, she had become a protégé, so good at hiding things from him now. 

"You gon’ have to get rid of her” Mick states before looking at Rio,  “She shot you, planned your assassination," he scoffs "stolen, sabotaged, lied, how much more you gon let her get away with"

“I cant get rid of her, if i do i gotta deal with the other 2, not to mention the stupid ass husbands that's almost 10 kids in foster care, too much heat its bad for business now anyway, plus I'm still under the microscope cuz of Turner” 

“Both can’t co exist  though, so you either with Beth or you with Y/N.”

“Fuck me”

“Gotta make a move boss”

“Ima figure something out” 

It takes 2 days but he finally locates them. Abruptly woken from their sleep and thrown in a van they find themselves in an unknown place, kneeling in front of him, with plastic bags underneath them. 

“Please i have children” Beth tries to plead her case 

Rio’s shoulders roll back before he speaks “Nah see you can’t keep doing that mama, you can't keep provoking me and asking for mercy cuz you got kids.”

“I'm a mother, they need their mother!”

“Please Rio” Ruby interjects 

“See that's the problem, I hoped you being a mother, you would actually be more careful but I get it now. You just wanna be reckless and use me as your cover. Shoot me 3 times it's my fault. Steal my fault, lie my fault, plot to kill me my fault" his shoulders roll "what was Y/N’s fault why you shoot her?" Already knowing the answer he wanted to see what she would  say 

"She knows my name I know you told her"

"She's my girl"

"Right just like I was but unlike her you can't replace me you need me!” 

"Humor me Beth, are you jealous?" 

Beth scoffs “of what?"  

"Y/N"

She scoffs again "you wish! You probably get off knowing 2 women want you" 

He licks his bottom lip and smiles. It takes a minute before he speaks “So what should i do with you, all of you? I know I’m tired of this game, we’ve been playing it for too long. Aint y’all tired of wondering if im gon kill you?” He asks addressing Annie and Ruby

“Please I promise to walk away” Annie offers 

“Annie shut up!” Beth scolds 

“NO! YOU SHUT UP BETH GOD YOU ARE SELFISH! ALWAYS HAVE BEEN!” 

“Annie I’m trying to....” Before she can finish she stops after she hears her phone ringing  

Rio looks down at the phone “Talk it out I gotta take this call” he says before walking away 

The girls don’t say anything but look at each other. When they see him return Beth comments “I got this let me speak.” waiting for him to sit down before she begins “You can’t kill us and you know it. So you can run back to your little girlfriend and kiss her wound and tell her she's special and I'll go back to doing my thing” she says snidely Both Annie and Ruby looked at her shocked.

“She is, it could have been you but the 3 bullets kinda changed my mind”

“OH MY GOD! Can you let that go!”

“I did then I found out you hired a hitman and some kid to shoot me. Things change all the time between us,  you know this”

“So what are you gonna do? Because we have work to do”

“I know.” He nods at the men behind them. The zip ties are cut before he walks away “I’ll see you around yea?”

When he leaves they all look at each other shocked that he even let them walk away. They remain in that position until all the men leave. 

“See I told you!”

“I can’t do this Beth you need some serious help and I’m not willing to wager my family as collateral for it”  Ruby states “It worked” “For you! Not for us, you think it's just a one woman show where you do everything? Like your actions don’t have any effect on our lives'' “Ruby it worked I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it” “Yea well better that than you” 

Annie interjects once again  before things get heated “Guys can we just figure out how to get home”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what now?” Mick asks frustrated with the whole thing. “She still working for you?”  he knew the pattern all too well Beth would do something to get back at Rio 

“Nah we moving, leaving Michigan, getting new headquarters. She wanna run the business? Cool, but no protection, no muscle, no supply of weapons, no connections, yea she can print money but she can’t operate or deal, not without me. Make sure everyone knows if they entertain her they are dead. I don’t care what it is if I find out I’m putting a bounty on your head. She right though I can’t kill her but i can kill her business” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few days but when you regain consciousness in the hospital you see one of Rio’s men at least you’re assuming he is sitting by you. You two don’t speak and you go back to sleep. The next day police stop by to question you about your shooting, you tell them the story Rio’s guy told you, a home invasion gone wrong. They leave satisfied with the explanation. Rio comes to visit a few days after  you have been moved to a step down unit that was more private.

The door opens and you watch as he walks in “Rio”

Hey mama he approaches you with hands behind his back and as he gets closer a cute teddy bear that has ‘get well soon on it’ 

“How you feeling?”  he asks taking a seat next to you on the bed 

“I got shot” you state factually

“You got shot” he says moving the hair from your face 

“Where have you been? The cops came to see me”

“I know they stopped by, I was handling something. Did you tell them what Honcho told you to say?”

“Yes” 

He smiles and looks at you with a face you can’t quite read

“So where is she?” 

You were hoping he would say dead in a ditch somewhere or something along the lines of ‘you never have to worry about her’ but what he said made you more angry

“At home”

“She's alive?”

“Yea” 

You roll your eyes, was she gonna be thorn on your side for the rest of your life with Rio? “But she won’t bother you” “Yea said that last time and now i have a bullet hole on my side that says otherwise” “Nah she won’t be able to reach you this time cuz we leaving, after you get discharged” 

“What? You want me to move?” 

“Yea,we can...”  You interrupt "There's no we anymore, you're like a bad omen. In less than a year since  i met you I get shot and now i have a bullet wound because of your unhinged ex that you couldn't keep in check and you still think there's a 'we' " 

“I told you,” he runs his hand down his chin “i asked you to be patient” he speaks softly 

“Be patient, meant with you! So you could change not ‘be patient, my crazy ex who i can't control will shoot you months from now but i still need you to understand” you say sarcasm laced in your tone 

“Y/N” “You told me to treat you like any other guy on the street, so I am. We are done!” 

“You can't stay here” he stresses “Why not?” “Beth isn’t my only enemy, and once she finds out my plans she will go to them for revenge” 

“So where are we going? I have a career here! Aunt Brenda and Mia, my parents, I visit their graves often”  

“They can come visit you, You can always get another job, it’s not safe for you here Y/N”

“Was it ever safe? Didn’t you have enemies before? Was I not in danger then” 

“This is different, Beth is vengeful I can’t risk it” 

“Where are we going?” 

“I can't tell you, not now I’m still figuring that out” 

“Typical” “Listen i'm packing up your house I’m gonna get you a new place in a new city you'll get a job” 

“Rio are you kidding me you want me to just up and leave?” “Yea,” he stands up and looks down at you  “it’s non negotiable, i gotta protect you, after you get discharged we leaving” 

“Protect me? From who? The only person I need protection from is you. Rein que le diable (nothing but the devil)” 

He stares at you for a moment  “get some rest” he says before kissing your forehead. He didn’t care about how you felt in the moment protecting you, Marcus, and Rhea were his top priority and he knew that always came with push back no matter who he was talking to.

A/N: as always tell me what you think. Not really a fan of this chapter didn’t know how to go around it. 

[mylkys]

ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀ ʟɪᴇ

nanami kento x f!reader

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING. do not proceed if you’re not up-to-date in the manga.

a request from @daikon-dishes​. hope you all enjoy.

word count: 1,841

warnings: major spoilers for chapter 120. character death. angst.

Everything hurts.

Every part of his being ached and for release, and the only thing that could cross his mind was is this was she felt, in her last moments? Did it feel like her bones were seconds away from ripping out of her skin? Could she feel her heart pound uselessly in her chest?

An image of your smiling face came to his mind's eye. The sunlight filtered through the trees, the golden rays illuminating your shining eyes. The apples of your cheeks were sunkissed, and the gentle wind tousling your hair.

It was the day Nanami proposed to you. He could almost feel the weight of the ring box in his pocket, or how his heart was close to exploding in his chest as he watched you laugh at your own joke. Nanami didn't understand it, but he didn't mind. Your childishness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Nanami pulled the box from his pant pocket, and he could see you watch him with bated breath. You'd asked him what he was doing, but he simply answered by opening the box, revealing the ring. 

It was simple- a thin band with a single diamond- but it suited you. The simplistic design matched your simplistic beauty. Your eyes lit up as you slapped a hand over your mouth. You told Nanami that if it was a joke, it was a shitty one, to which he chuckled.

"Am I the type to pull pranks, dear?"

You cried as you lept onto him. Your arms held him in a chokehold as your bawled your eyes out, weeping a loud and shaky yes. Yes, I'll marry you.

Nanami guided you away from his chest and enveloped you in a kiss. But, he couldn't feel you. There was no pressure of your lips on his, no taste of your tongue. 

Nanami broke the kiss and looked at your face. He could see tears streaming from your crystal eyes, your kiss-swollen lips. You were beautiful.

Yet, it was... off. Unclear. Nanami could see you, but your face was lacking details. Like how one side of your smile was higher than the other, how one eyebrow was arched while the other was rounded. You were there but washed out. Your skin was off, your clothes were off, you were off. 

He was forgetting. 

Nanami couldn't remember the shape of your hands, the slope of your nose, the part of your hair. He remembered how you'd say your left side was your good side, and he remembered how he never understood. Now, he realized he couldn't, because he couldn't even remember what you looked like.

The scene changed, fading away to a dim phone screen. Nanami scrolled through the different necklaces, but none were catching his eye.

A hand clasped on his shoulder, and Nanami turned to see Gojo smiling at him. 

"Gift shopping for the missus?"

"Leave me alone."

Gojo pouted as he complained about Nanami being so mean to him. Nanami's chest ached when he noticed that Gojo's face was crisp, clear. How could he forget the face of the love of his life, but not his? Why would his mind let the details of you wash away, but let Gojo's remain?

Gojo bent over Nanami's shoulder and poked to the screen. "If I know Missus Nanami, which, I do, she'd like that one."

It was a thin silver chain, with a small starfish charm. It was simple, not too long or flashy. It reminded him of you.

Nanami remembered how you hated him calling you simple, how you would take it as an insult. You thought he was calling your ordinary or boring, but he disagreed. Though there was nothing wrong with extravagance, it was also complex and complicated. It took effort.

But with simplicity, the need for detail washes away. The additions and improvements are gone, and what's left bare is true and raw. Simplicity ignores the unneeded aspects, allowing one to just exist. That's how Nanami felt when he was with you.

Any time with you wrapped in his arms, all thoughts and worries of work and curses just... drifted away. In those moments, Nanami wasn't a sorcerer. 

He was a man in love. 

Nanami remembered Gojo's smug grin when he added the necklace to his chart, and he remembered ignoring it. When it came in, your face lit up like thousands of stars, and Nanami had to console you as you sobbed.

"It not even our anniversary!"

"It doesn't need to be a significant date for me to give you a gift."

Any time Gojo saw you wear the necklace- which was every time he saw you since you wore it every day- he would smirk knowingly at Nanami and would tease him about knowing his wife more than he did.

But that stopped after you died.

One thing that is guaranteed when you're a sorcerer, is dying with regrets. Nanami's was losing you.

By most standards, it had been a normal day. You had kissed him goodbye as he left for work, and he called you during his lunch break. If Nanami had known that would be the last time he spoke to you, he would have told you how much he loved you. 

But, it wasn't a normal day. When he came home, he could tell something was wrong. Your house was reeking of cursed energy, and he could see the residue of a curse creature trail to the front door. 

His heart pounded in his chest as dread bubbled in his stomach as he drew his weapon. He opened the front door, and the strong heady scent of blood overwhelmed him. 

Nanami screamed out your name, panic freezing his blood. He was frantic as he tore apart the house, looking for you. 

Maybe you fled, maybe you got away, he chanted in his head over, and over, and over again. You weren't a sorcerer- hell, you could barely even see curses- so there was no chance you could have defended yourself. Nanami prayed that your instincts protected you, got you away from the curse, got you safe.

His world crashed around him as he bolted into your shared bedroom. The smell of blood was strongest there, and when he pushed open the door, he almost gagged. The stench of blood and cursed energy was so thick, it made it hard to breathe, but what took his breath away was you.

You were lying upon the bed, curled up tightly on Nanami's side, your head buried deep in his pillow. The right side of your body was heavily mutilated, wounds and malformations bleeding profusely.

Nanami cried out your name as he ran to your side. He shook you violently, screaming at you to Wake up! Please, wake up!

He hated how stiff your bod- no, not your body- how still you were. How cold you were. 

Nanami could barely see through the tears, but he noticed how you had your hands cradled near your neck. He choked as he pried away your fingers to see what you were holding, and what little control he had left crashed when he saw that even in death, you protected the necklace he gave you. 

While the rest of your body was drenched with drying blood, your necklace had remained clean and beautiful.

Nanami looked to your face and saw the soft yet pained smile on your lips. He had pressed his mouth to yours and prayed he would feel your lips move against his, feel your hands cup his face as you deepened the kiss.

You never did.

Gojo found Nanami cradling you in his arms later that night. 

They held a funeral two days later. 

The casket was closed.

Gojo didn't joke about your necklace anymore.

A new memory, one with Itadori, came to mind. He had the necklace and a photo of you that he kept in his wallet.

"Who's that?" he had asked.

Nanami could feel his throat tighten. He had planned on scolding Itadori on snooping, but instead of doing so, he indulged him.

"That was my wife."

"Whoa! You're married? I didn't know you were married!"

"I'm not anymore."

Itadori paused. "Was? Did you get divorced?"

"No."

Itadori looked at Nanami, confused. "Then how...?"

Nanami felt tears burn his eyes, so he turned away. "She's," his throat closed a little as he choked back a sob, "she's no longer with us."

"Oh." Itadori wouldn't look at Nanami. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes as Nanami fought away his tears.

"What was she like?"

Nanami's eyes widened a bit, and he turned to Itadori.

"Kind. Gentle. Playful." He paused, trying to think of how to describe you. "Simple."

"She sounds like a good person," Itadori said. Nanami could see that he felt uncomfortable- not because he didn't like talking about you, but because he didn't know what to say.

"She was perfect," Nanami whispered to himself. Itadori heard him but didn't say anything.

Nanami turned to him once more. "She would have liked you."

Nanami could feel his body begin to fail him. He couldn't hear, and his sight was beginning to wither away. With what little will he had left, Nanami pulled his wallet from his pant pocket and took out the dainty necklace and photo. 

He could barely see your beautifully simple face or the shining necklace, but he could feel then. As his world faded to black, the last thing he wanted to see was you. 

Everything became dark as pain enveloped him, yet he clutched the necklace and photo tight. He refused to let go. 

It was hard to breathe, and Nanami began to panic. His chest ached for relief, for relaxation, and when that pain increased in intensity, he began to panic. Hot flames burned at his body, and if he could still hear, he would have heard his cries of pain.

It was unbearable now, and as Nanami walked the line of unconsciousness, he heard a small noise. It was far off, muffled, faint, he almost wasn't sure if he had heard anything at all when he heard it again, but loud this time. 

"Kento!" 

Nanami could hear it now, and the voice was so painstakingly familiar, he was confident he would recognize it anywhere.

It was you.

He tried to call out, but his voice wouldn't let him. The panic from the pain melted to the panic of you not finding him. 

"Ken!" you cried. Nanami was never fond of nicknames, but he adored anything you would call him. "Kentooooooo!"

A soft touch caressed his shoulder, and the pain washed away like the waves at sea. Nanami found himself able to move again, and he whipped around to see you standing behind him. 

You were dressed in the same sundress you wore when he proposed, ring on your finger. Around your throat was the dainty chain of your necklace.

Nanami whispered your name, to which you smiled.

"Hey, you," you giggled. 

"I missed you."

[burnedbyshoto]

(i won’t say) i’m in love - pt 2

Bakugou deals with the consequences of his actions, but will he ever be forgiven?

pt 1

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pairing: platonic!bakugou katsuki x reader

warning: hurt/comfort, cursing, bakugou katsuki is bad at feelings

word count: 3,032

a/n: I wasn’t really planning on writing a part 2, but I was like semi upset when I got an ask for it and practically brainstormed an entire fic in an ask, then lost it all because tumblr mobile crashed, cried, forgot about it, then saw an entire conversation happening in the comments of the first one and it convinced me to write the part 2. anyways, I hope you enjoy. can you believe I used hurt/comfort??? neither can I!!!!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Bakugou stared at the ceiling of his room.

The past five days, he had mostly shut himself off from all of society. He showed up to patrols, ignored everyone who wasn’t essential to his line of work, destroyed his phone in his embarrassment, and had begun an emotional declination he was not proud of.

He had destroyed his relationship with you, and most likely, Kirishima too. His confession went unsaid that night, but his words of hatred and twisted jealousy remained alive. Hell, even fucking Deku had tried to talk to him about it. Still, it had resulted in both of them having their heads buried into the concrete because they were more interested in yelling at each other than actually focusing on the villain they were fighting. 

It was not a proud moment.

There was a lot of guilt welling up in him though; every time he thought so much of how you looked that night, acid hot tears tore at the back of his eyes - threatening to fall in a stupid uncomposed way.

He was better than this, he didn’t need to cry.

Still, when he heard a knock at his front door, he was beyond shocked to see none other than Kirishima standing there. His hair was down, not in his usual hairstyle but natural. He was looking up at Bakugou with a strange look on his face. One that Bakugou only knew to be a gaze Kirishima held when he squared off with the most ‘unmanliest’ of villains who held no redemption.

A stone sank in his stomach, and his tongue ran dry when the two different red eyes came to lock in the middle.

“We need to talk, Bakugou.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Five Nights Earlier

You stormed into your apartment, angry, upset tears streaming down your cheeks while your fingers shook like leaves, and your cheeks were puffed with your restrained tears. 

You hated Bakugou. You hated him.

Who did he think he was?

Talking to you like you were some undeserving child? An idiot who had been used by him of all people? His taunting words rang and danced in your head, twisting and evolving into nastier names, more sinister meanings.

He wasn’t your friend, just using you for his own wellbeing. He was a user and a taker, never a giver. He was a tramp and… and… you felt weak in the knees as your nasty thoughts fell short and thin. A sob emitted from your lips, and your head slowly shook, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t that. You knew that.

Bakugou wasn’t much of a giver, there was never any denying that, but he wasn’t a taker nor a user. This wasn’t him. It could never be him.

You sank to the floor, feeling your drumming heart exploding in your chest as your wet cheeks pressed against the floor. Was he really not a user, though?

He had used you before, the final exam was a prime example of that, but that was who he was on the battlefield. A strong yet stubborn leader, his voice loud and willing those around him. You had followed him on your own merit, knowing that he was someone to be trusted, so why was it now you were having issues with it. Was this all an illusion? Which part of him was correct?

“Y/n?” a voice called out, and your blood froze over at the thought of it being Bakugou, but at the second calling of your name, you warmed up. It was Kirishima.

Pushing off the floor, you sniffled loudly, the tears still continuing to pour down your face while you struggled over to the front door. You opened the front door to find Kirishima standing there, his hands awkwardly placed on his hips, and his head tilted to the side, concern, and sympathy clouding his face. Still, it was nice to see your boyfriend’s gentle and loving face as you let him in, immediately allowing yourself to sink into his open arms and sob in them.

It was no secret that you had desperately wanted to be friends with Bakugou. It was something you had horribly failed at high school, and now you had managed… you had done it… but was it for naught? Kirishima held you gently, though, his surprisingly gentle and soft hands coming to stroke your tear-soaked face over and over. Sweet words passing his lips as he held you, unwilling to let your thoughts consume you while you stayed at the entrance of your home. 

It took much longer than you’d like to admit, a few hours at that, for you to finally be able to face your boyfriend with only tears brimming your eyes and your lips swollen and puffy from your frequent biting. 

“You okay, y/n?” Kirishima asked softly, his hands moving to brush the strands of hair out of your face before pressing a sweet smile to your cheeks. “What are you feeling?”

“I don’t… I don’t understand why he said that!” you choke out, your voice embarrassingly weak and cracked with your overwhelming emotions and obvious distress. “We were friends! I know we were friends! You can’t be fake friends with Bakugou Katsuki of all people! It’s… it’s not possible! But that’s… how could he say that to my face? He said some of the worst shit he could have said to me, and that doesn’t sound anything like the man I know him to be! The best friend you know him to be! I get we weren’t always… we weren’t always close, and that’s fine because not all friendships are there in the beginning, but I don’t know why it’s not here! We had something, right? I wasn’t… I wasn’t making it up?”

Kirishima stared at you with the most heartbroken yet heartfelt expression on his face, his hands readjusting their hold on your face to bring a tantalizingly sweet kiss to your mouth. It was an action that burned into your skin - a somewhat polar feeling to the dread that sat on your skin and bones. 

“You weren’t, no way in hell was that a made-up friendship.”

“Then, why?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know.”

Kirishima stared down at your shining bright eyes, his lips twisting into a sad but sure smile while he pressed kisses against your tears, his warm body pressing softly into yours. 

“I knew he was lying,” you mumbled, your eyes closing ever so gently when he kisses you wholly.

“Yeah?”

“He couldn’t look me in the eye when he started… that’s how you know he’s lying.”

Kirishima sighed softly against your lips, “I think I was still too drunk to have noticed that.”

“You definitely tasted disgusting earlier, Ei,” you teased, the pain in your heart tremendous but ignorable when he pulled away, the faux offended look on his face almost too funny.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, grabbing your cheeks in a threatening manner.

“Y-Yeah!” your voice cracked.

In a surging kiss that was practically all tongue, just for a moment that night, your worries and distress were forgotten while Kirishima tried to show just how not disgusting his mouth tasted.

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Bakugou stared at his friend, his hands in fists against the legs of his jeans, and Kirishima was leaning on his forearms against his thighs. They had made it to Bakugou’s living room, taking their usual seats in this room that was usually bright in atmosphere when they came together. 

Despite Kirishima saying that they needed to talk, he had remained quiet for this entire time, unwilling to speak while his face clouded with murkiness and calamity. Bakugou hated this so much. He hated that he couldn’t speak up because he was in the wrong, and he hated that the reason he was so disconnected from everything was because of him.

But the worst part was that the entire world seemed to know that this was going on right now; there had to be no other explanation. It was quiet right now, his usually nosy neighbors were silent as a mouse, the outside world frozen over, and the only thing Bakugou could hear was his rising heartbeat in his throat. 

What was he going to say?

When was he going to say it?

“You should tell y/n how you feel.”

Bakugou froze, well he definitely was not expecting that to come out of Kirishima’s lips.

“Excuse me?”

Kirishima finally looked up from his folded fingers and met Bakugou’s gaze. It nearly froze Bakugou to the core when his bright red eyes seemed so lost and far away. Kirishima always looked at things in a kind manner, villain or ally, he never lost that kind glint to his eyes… but right now, his eyes were deadly serious, sharp, hard.

“I know you’re in love with y/n,” Kirishima admitted, his jaw tensing slightly, his head shaking slightly. “I know, Bakugou.”

“Eh? I don’t fucking-” Bakugou couldn’t help but lie, not wanting to cause his friend unneeded stress, unneeded insecurity because he was an idiot.

“You do, I know you do,” Kirishima sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor for a millisecond before returning to Bakugou’s widened eyes. “I’ve known since the beach trip… and I didn’t have a problem with it because I trust both you and y/n.”

“Kirishima…”

“Even with what you said that night… I still trust you, and after talking with y/n, I realized that while I thought for some time that it was you just liking them, I didn’t realize it was you being in love.” Kirishima smiled sadly, his hand running through his red locks that were showing black at the roots. He was in the process of deciding if he was going to allow the black to come back. “But even though I don’t… I don’t want you to tell y/n that you love them, I think you need to. For your sake and theirs.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows shot together, his feet shifting so that he could stand up, but when he tried, he realized that all the strength in his body had left him, rendering him unable to stand up.

“I’m not going to do it if you don’t want me to do that,” Bakugou hoarse out, his mouth feeling unusually dry, disgustingly hot. “I almost did on the night of your birthday party, and… I just fucking can’t anymore. I feel disgusting.”

Kirishima let a small, sad smile appear on his face, his mouth twitching with unspoken words, and his eyes finally letting on emotion. “I sort of figured that out too. Probably would’ve been a better option than lying to y/n, huh?”

Bakugou stared at his friend, emotions he was not at all used to bubbling in his chest, threatening to spill over and just shatter the world in two. What was he going to do with himself?

“I’m sorry, Kirishima.”

“I’m not the one who needs the apology.”

“You do,” Bakugou disagreed, his head shaking in his disagreement. “I hurt you, too, man.”

“Yeah, well,” Kirishima seemed to look for the next thing to say, his sharp teeth digging into his lower lip while he collapsed back onto the seat, exhaustion filling him. “That’s why I’m called the unbreakable red riot, I get hurt, but I won’t ever break or fall.”

Bakugou fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Now go see y/n, and don’t come back until things are confessed.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You were watching a cartoon on the screen in your living room. Well, at the very least, you were trying to, but you found yourself ignoring the brightly flashing screen and pitched voices to think back on the past two days. 

Bakugou consumed your thoughts, the way that you and Kirishima knew he was lying that night, but you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Kirishima had been over tonight to eat dinner, and after helping you clean up and put everything away, he had left with a sweet kiss goodbye and a promise that things would be better. 

There was a knock on the door, and the trance you were in was broken. Pushing off the couch, you walked to the front door of your apartment and opened the door. It was Bakugou.

“Can we talk?” Bakugou said after seconds of silence, the both of you frozen at the first sight of each other in days, the bitter resentment still heavy in the air while the world continued to spin. He looked worse than you expected him to, his eyes tired, and his hair flat in some areas - as if he hadn’t been able to do anything but lay on his side for days. 

“Depends,” was your response, your body feeling completely numb and terribly cold.

“On?”

“Am I going to annoy you?”

Bakugou licked his lips, his eyes dropping from yours momentarily while a soft expel of air passed his lips, “Did I really say that?”

“That and more,” you smiled, but the smile was twisted and wrenching, there was nothing but hurt and anger behind it while you stared at the man who held a place in your heart.

“Can I… let me in?” Bakugou just about pleaded you - well, the closest thing to a plead that Bakugou Katsuki could make. 

You clenched your jaw, thinking if it was genuinely beneficial to you if you allowed him to enter and talk, but you were never to deny your friends anything. Nodding your head once, you opened the door wider, letting him in. 

“I just hope I won’t annoy you with my cowardice,” you couldn’t help but murmur while he passed you, the space he filled in your apartment was awkward, and he tensed when the door clicked behind him. 

Bakugou sighed, his hands shoving into his pockets while he remained before you, refusing to look at you.

“I’m in love with you.”

Now, you were expecting a few things to come out of Bakugou’s mouth the second you allowed him to come in. An apology maybe, a declaration that you should just ignore everything that he said maybe or even a begrudging admittance that it was Kirishima who was forcing him to come in tonight. But that?

“Excuse me?!”

“I know you don’t like not speaking whenever I’m talking, but I’m asking you that this once… for this one time, you’ll let me speak without interruption.” You watched in overwhelming emotion as Bakugou turned his head, staring at you with those vermillion eyes and a spine of steel, and with a small nod, you agreed. 

“I didn’t want to tell you, well, I did want to tell you. That night at Kirishima’s party, that’s what I was going to confess to you. But when Kirishima came out, I… I realized how shitty of me it was to even have entertained that thought, and I lost it. I wasn’t going to try to fix anything because I thought it wasn’t right of me after what I said, but Kirishima came over right now and told me that I should.” Your fingers fisted into your shirt, your eyes wide as the full moon while Bakugou’s head shook, a heavy sigh on his lips that reminded you to breathe. “I was a shit friend to you, and I’m not looking for you to forgive me or anything, I know I fucked up… but I’m here because… you are easily one of the best friends I have, and I don’t want that to disappear because I didn’t do anything.”

“I… I don’t want our friendship to end either,” you whisper, the truth unable to stay hidden even if you wanted to keep it from him. The fact was that you couldn’t see a life without him. Even if you could never return those feelings anymore, even if you couldn’t love him the way he loved you, you didn’t ever want to see him go. “I am upset, unworldly upset that you said that, even if it was a lie.”

“I’m sorry...”

“I love you too, Bakugou, but just… not that way… not anymore.”

“I know,” Bakugou’s lips press into a flat line, his hands shoving into his messy hair while he shook his head. “I know you won’t love me like that, and it’s fine… but I’m… I’m sorry…”

“I know you are.”

“Will… are you ever forgive me?”

You stared into his eyes, the ones that refused to look at you five nights ago, shining with his apologetic emotions and sincere thoughts. Wordlessly, you approached him, your arms wrapped around his neck to bring him into a hug, and your face buried into his neck while he remained stiff in your arms. 

“Always.”

His arms rose, the tremor in his body shaking even you before they settled to wrap around your waist. You didn’t dare to speak as he silently cried in your arms, years of repressed emotions, and five hellish days of guilt cracking him entirely until the two of you sank to the ground, your soothing words a saving grace to him while he apologized over and over again.

“I’m so sorry.”

It would take some time, but eventually, Bakugou’s sobs became muffled hiccups. The place the two of you held on the floor, ultimately shifting over to sit on the much more comfortable couch. His eyes were puffy and red from his tears, and yours were swelling up as well, awkward tension still hung heavily within the two of you as your hand gently brushed away his tears with a gentle, familiar smile.

“Do you want some spicy curry? I have some leftovers.”

Bakugou let in a stuttering breath of air, his lungs still weak from his crying, but the offer of food eased the remaining knots in his stomach.

“As long as you weren’t the one who made it.”

“My curry skills are amazing, and you should shut up!”

And Bakugou watched as you left the couch, your voice pitched and a bit breathless as you went about making him his food, but he knew that even if he wanted to be more than friends, this was okay. You smiling, rambling, happy, and in love. That’s all that mattered.

Forever and always.

[allegra-writes]

Fireproof

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut; Sex pollen.

The request:

This is for @idiosadeoro who wanted Virgin!Peter, hypersensitive cause of his spider sense, and the bunch of anons who wanted Sex pollen/Fuck or die. Hope this caters to your tastes. Preparing for Halloween, this is the most fucked up thing I wrote so far 😘

Also, Infinity war? Endgame?? NOT IN THIS HOUSE.

MY MASTERLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

You were so fired.

So fucking fired.

That was the only thought going through your mind, on repeat as you made your way to the med bay. You tried to focus on that, because if you were to think even for one second about what you were about to do, you'd never be able to go through with it.

With shaky fingers and your heart pounding inside your chest hard enough to break your ribs, you punched the code in the security panel and watched the light go green. This was it, your moment of truth. You squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Peter knew it was you even before you spoke, there was a shift in the atmosphere, the stale air inside the bay was suddenly electrified, every one of his senses coming alive. He wished he could blame the god damned pollen, but he had long before memorized the cadence of your footsteps, the smell of your perfume. He could recognize your heartbeat in a room full of people. The truth was he had had the most desperate, hopeless crush on you from the very moment Tony had showed up in the lab with you in tow, and announced the two of you would be working together.

On a normal day, he had enough trouble controlling himself around you enough not to blurt out his feelings, but now, with the freaky alien sex pollen stuff in his system?..

“Peter?”

He feigned sleep where he was on the gurney, refusing to open his eyes. If he so much as saw your pretty face, his control would snap, he just knew it. You stepped closer.

“Y/n, it’s not a good idea for you to be here right now” he tried to warn you, but you kept on coming closer, he could feel the heat coming out of your body even feet away, every pore of his skin opening to soak up your warmth. You were saying something, and he should probably listen but you were way too close now, a whiff of your scent, flowery and sweet and female reaching his nose.

Before you could blink, he had you pinned against the wall, every inch of his firm, lithe but muscular body pressed against yours, hard planes against soft curves.

“I mean it, y/n, it’s extremely dangerous for you to be in the same room as me until Mr. Stark comes up with an antidote” His nose was practically touching yours, his breath hot against your face.

And you could actually see it, the danger he was talking about. It was there, in his eyes, the raw hunger, the barely contained desire. It made shivers run down your spine, cause you knew if he was to loose control, you would be powerless against his super strength.

For the first time ever, you were afraid of Spider-man.

But this was what you had come here for in the first place, wasn’t it? There was no antidote, at least none that would work with his enhanced metabolism. The same metabolism that was processing the alien substance twice as fast. Time was running out, and Steve and Tony were still up in the lab, debating the moral implications of getting Peter an escort.

So you swallowed your fear, and crushed your lips to his.

He returned the kiss right away, tongue parting your lips, forcing his way into your mouth. The sound that left his throat at the first taste of you was not unlike that of a wounded animal. You swallowed it, head spinning, grateful for being trapped between the wall and his body, your knees suddenly to weak to support your own weight.

Your fingers buried themselves in the curls at the back of his head by their own accord, tearing another moan out of him. He released your lips only to latch his to your neck, kissing, sucking, nibbling with no finesse or technique whatsoever.

“I can’t stop” He was murmuring between kisses, burying his apologies into your skin, “I can’t stop, I’m sorry”

It was the truth. He had tried to downplay the effects so as not to worry Tony even more, but ever since he had gotten covered in that weird pink dust, it had been hard to breath, his lungs, loins, skin, everything felt on fire.

The first taste of your lips, of your tongue, of your spit, had felt like a mouthful of fresh water, cooling down his insides. The first relief he had had in hours.

But it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed you.

He parted your knees with one of his own, thigh rocking against your center.

It made you moan. The very first sound he had coaxed out of you, and it made his blood boil inside his veins. A new scent filled his nose, almost cloyingly sweet. He reclaimed your lips with a growl when he realized he was smelling your arousal.

One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he ravaged your mouth, the other one popped open the button of your jeans and slid inside to where the heath between your legs was beckoning him. His hands were hot, leaving scorching trails in their wake. One finger found your entrance, diving in, pumping steadily in an out until you were shamelessly moving your hips, riding his hand, chasing your release.

It was embarrassing, you had never come so fast in your life but there was no mistaking the feeling coiling up inside you, tighter and tighter until it had no choice but to explode, making you cry out into Peter’s mouth.

He could have stayed like that until his death, fingers still lazily thrusting inside you, devouring those delicious little sounds from your mouth... But he noticed your hands, a second ago tugging so good at his hair, now on his chest, trying to push him away. It teared him in half, every cell in his body screaming in pain, but he complied, taking a step back. You stumbled a little on your feet.

“Please” He breathed out, voice breaking. He needed you, he would literally die… He could have sob in relief when you got rid of your lab coat and he understood you only wanted to get undressed, but he still had enough presence of mind to stop you.

“No” You met his eyes, confusion clear in your face, “Not here” Not where there were cameras, not where he didn’t even had a proper bed to lie you down. If he was finally going to make you his, he was going to do it right, pollen or not.

A voice in the back of his head reminded him that you weren’t his, you were only doing this to save his life, but he pushed it aside, as he picked you up as if you were weightless -for him, you probably were- and took you to the little on-call room right outside the bay at breakneck speed.

He placed you softly on the bed and got rid of his clothes so quickly it had to be a record, before moving to help you out of yours. He covered your body with his perfect one, your skin was so soft, so pliant under his hands, so cool against his own feverish skin, soothing him like a balm, he wanted nothing but to bury himself into you. But he admitted, voice small and shy and so Peter it almost broke your heart.

“I- I have no idea what I’m doing…”

He felt you froze underneath him and leaned back to look at your stunned face.

“You’ve never..?”

He shook his head no.

“But, you and MJ, wasn’t she your girlfriend until like, college?

“She’s ace. I respected that.” He replied simply.

“But, back in the bay, if you've never done… anything, what was that?”

He half shrugged,

“A shot in the dark?”

He was freaking natural, then. And you? You were going to hell.

You just knew it, cause never before you had had an Innocence kink, but Peter “Perfect bubble butt” Parker was a virgin, and you were all for it, licking your lips and planning a thousand different ways to corrupt him before the night was over.

You pushed at his shoulders and he let you manhandle him until he was the one on his back on the mattress, and you were straddling his thick, gorgeous thighs.

He watched you, mesmerized, as you raked your fingernails down his torso, leaving red trails, catching on his nipples, making him hiss. His muscles rippled under your hands as you moved them over his abs, lower and lower, until you wrapped your fingers around his hard, long, angry cock. His groan went straight to your cunt, and somewhere in the back of your mind you realized this was so wrong, you weren’t like this, you shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, something really weird was going on. But this had stopped being about saving Peter’s life a long time ago.

You pumped your hand once, twice, three times, watching his head trash from side to side. You spat on your other hand and covered the head of his cock with it, caressing it with soft, circular movements that had him sobbing and cursing. It made you feel powerful, hot.

“If my hands feel this good, just imagine how it will feel when you finally get inside me…” You leaned over him to whisper dirtily in his ear, before sucking the lobe into your mouth

“Fuck!.. Yes, please, y/n… please!”

“You want it, don’t you? Want to feel me from the inside… penetrate me, break me in half with your cock…” Where was all this coming from? This was wrong, he wasn’t in his right mind, you weren’t supposed to like it.

“Yes! Please! Yes, I want it, all of it!”

You guided him to your entrance, lowering your self slowly, slowly. He was huge, and you were dripping, yes, but you needed to be careful anyway, you had never taken someone so big.

His hand went to your waist, crying out as his cock disappeared inside you, eyes fixed on the place you and him were joined. You grabbed a hold of one of his wrists, guiding his hand to one of your breasts as you started moving up and down, riding him.

“Oh God!..”

“Tell me,” you demanded, already breathing hard, he was filling you up so good, touching all the right places deep inside you, “Tell me how does it feel to be inside me”

“Hot… so wet… so tight… you feel like...” He stopped, looking up at you through half lidded eyes.

“Like what?” You urged him on, “Tell me, Peter”

“You feel like you’re mine”

Your walls contracted around him at his words, a wave of pleasure washing over you. His other hand returned to your waist and he started moving you faster up and down his cock.

“Yes, like that, show me how you like it” You were delirious, your own hand tugging at your hair, “make me yours, Peter!”

He started to buck his hips up, trying to get even deeper, his pelvis rubbing against your clit just right every time he bottomed out and your second orgasm of the night started to build.

“Gonna come inside this pretty pussy” He let out under his breath, and you didn’t know if he was talking to you or to himself, “Then, I’m going to turned you around on your hands and knees, enter your pussy from behind, not even gonna stop. Gonna make you come on my cock over and over and over…” he punctuated every word with a hard thrust, until your walls were squeezing him again, and you were screaming your release. A couple thrusts later, and you felt him coming as well, coating your insides with his hot seed.

True to his word, he flipped you over, burying his cock in your oversensitized cunt again, fucking you through the aftershocks, prolonging your pleasure until you were a moaning, trembling mess. And he wasn’t even slowing down.

“I wanted you… since the first moment I saw you” he confessed, leaning over your back to kiss your shoulder, the gesture surprisingly sweet for the way he was taking you, so raw and animalistic. “You were wearing that pink skirt… and I wanted… wanted to bend you over the lab table and have my way with you…”

Dizzily, you reached behind you to grab a handful of his hair, and turned your head to kiss him, open mouthed and sloppy. He loved it.

“This is close enough” He sighed when you broke the kiss, resting his forehead on your shoulder, hips slapping against your ass loudly.

You interrupted the steady stream of “Uh… uh…uh” leaving your throat to try and say,

“I don’t know… we could… still do it in the lab… later…”

“Fuck, you’re perfect!” He moaned against your back, before grabbing hold of your hips again, pounding into you faster than any normal boy could ever do.

…

You passed out somewhere between round five and six, not before giving him express permission to use your body as much as he needed to burn the fucking -ha- pollen out of his system.

He was running his fingers softly up and down your naked back, a barely there caress, watching you sleep, sated, relaxed and completely spent, when he heard the buzzing coming from your jeans, long forgotten on the floor near the bed. He took it out and saw Tony’s name lighting up the scream.

He slid to pick up.

“Fucking finally! Y/n, where the hell are you?!”

“Mister Stark, it’s me” He whispered his reply, as not to wake you up.

“Peter! Thank God! How are you, please tell me you didn’t-“

“Sorry, Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him, “We kinda did…”

“Shit! Please, Peter, please tell me you kids used protection!”

“Uh…”

Tony left out another loud curse at the other side of the line.

“Where are you? Y/n did something to Friday and now it won’t tell me where you are in the tower. You still in the tower right? I need the both of you to come to the lab right now” Tony was talking a mile a minute and Peter knew something very bad, not of the good was going on.

“Why?”

“Because,” Tony’s voice was frantic as he tried to explain the gravity of the situation, “That pollen thing? That’s not an aphrodisiac like we thought, it’s a fertility treatment. It doesn’t only messes your hormones up, it messes with hers too with every fluid exchange!”

Peter turned to look at you, peacefully asleep, curling up to his side, blissfully unaware of anything and everything going on outside that bed.

And maybe it was the alien substance still fucking up his brain, but the mental image of you, round with his child, sleeping like that next to him every night? It wasn’t half as terrifying as Tony seemed to think it was.

After all, the girl of his dreams was finally his, and a baby would guarantee she would remain his, forever.

“You know what, Mister Stark? I have to go now. Talk to you tomorrow…”

“What? No, kid, don’t hang up on me! Peter Parker I swear-…”

Tony Stark heard the line go dead.

To be continued...

Buy me a coffee

[weasleydream]

Ad astra

This one is for @teheharrypotter​‘s two weeks of angst, obviously I had to participate! My trope was dying in their arms. I wanted to add that the last scene is inspired by a very sad scene of the movie Christmas shoes (I made the gif to show the scene). If you haven’t already seen this movie, don’t watch it or you’ll cry. A lot.  Anyway, as usual feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy! 

Masterlist

(gif is mine)

There were so many things he loved about her. 

The way she always closed her eyes when he kissed her, the way her sweet lips moved against his. The little groans she let out every morning when he woke her up. The warmth of her breathing in his neck, the way his heart always beat faster whenever he saw her. 

He used to think that no one would ever take a place in his heart as important as the one she had taken. 

That was before they met.

It was a nightmare. The most awful nightmare you could imagine, and it wasn’t even violent. There was no blood, no murderer, no monster chasing after me. I wasn’t locked up in a room, I wasn’t getting drowned or tortured, yet it was like all of this was happening to me at the same time. Everything felt more intense, more painful, and everything seemed to disappear. A fucking nightmare, and I wasn’t even asleep.

A sentence, it’s all it had taken for me to sink. A sentence pronounced by a hurried nurse who had left the room a few seconds later, leaving my world crashing around me. And in this damaged world was Charlie. He had always been my rock, the only one who had never given up on me, the only one who had always been able to look straight into my eyes to tell me “You’re wrong”. And now, he was unable to even look in my direction. All I could see was his back, his hunched posture and the nervous movement of his hands. He was pacing, getting to the window before sitting back on the chair, then getting up again and doing it all over again. And me? I was looking at him, my eyes fixed on his bright hair which colour had always been a synonym of peace and protection and love. I was biting my bottom lip to the blood, barely noticing the metallic taste. I was trembling, I was getting more and more terrified and numb at the same time. I was dying.

“We don’t know what it is. Nobody, muggle or wizard, seems to have heard of this disease. I’m sorry, miss Y/L/N.”

“Charlie…” 

My voice was weaker than I had expected, so small that I knew even Charlie’s trained ear hadn’t heard me. But I didn’t know if I could trust my voice to be louder, my trembling had reached every single fiber of my body and my vocal chords were vibrating with the emotions I was trying to contain, and the rest of my body had already betrayed me. Given up on me, stopped fighting, it was letting me die. 

“Charlie, please, don’t ignore me.”

I knew he had heard me as his pacing had abruptly stopped, but he still wasn’t looking at me. In a way, it was better like this; I didn’t know if I would be able to face him. I didn’t know what was going on his mind, and mine was hard enough to ignore. 

“I’m not- It’s not you that I’m ignoring.” He stopped and I waited for him to continue. “It’s the fact that every time I look at you could be the last.”

“Does it really change anything?” 

I was surprised, because I didn’t think opening my mouth without exploding in sobs was possible. It had been roughly five minutes, yet I was already accustomed to the feeling of pressure on my chest, and I already knew I wouldn’t bear it for long. But I also knew I couldn't let it overwhelm me because Charlie was needing me and I was going to give up on him, and I had to say something. Anything.

“Every day we’ve spent together could have been the last. It’s just- now, we know for sure it’s going to arrive.”

Then came the sobs. They began weak, silent, only betrayed by the shaking of my shoulders. And a first cry echoed in this creepy hospital room, and Charlie’s head turned toward me. I caught the movement, but everything was blurred by the pool of tears in my eyes. The damaged world around me was now nothing more than a dull white cloud in which this bright stain of ginger was getting closer and closer. 

Charlie’s arms wrapped around me, strong and firm like I had always known them. His chest was vibrating against mine and his head was hidden on the crook of my neck. He was silent but I knew he was crying. His tears were soaking my blouse and mine were soaking his shirt. It had never happened before, the both of us crying in the other’s arms. We had always stayed strong when the other needed it the most, whether it was after a long and tiring night and Charlie was missing his family or when I was hurt by my parent’s remarks about my choices of life. But now, what was the point of staying strong? Things wouldn’t get better, the nurse had said it. Now, every day was another danger, a step that maybe would be too high for me and that would make me fall. As Charlie was tightening me against him, as I was tightening him against me, as we were holding each other like the last thing that counted on earth, I remembered how the unknown used to be exciting. All it was now was destructing. 

_ _ _ 

The romanian sun was already high in the sky, and its light was piercing through the closed curtains. If I opened my eyes, I would certainly be able to walk to the door without tripping on Charlie’s mess which, trust me, was an exploit. An arm wrapped around my waist and I smiled to myself, savouring the warmth of my boyfriend’s touch. I wriggled to face him without waking him up and I was met with his freckled nose. I laid a gentle kiss on his lips and he didn’t even move, his snores barely stopping for a second before echoing again with a renewed vigour. 

“Charlie, love, I need to go.” I murmured before trying to move his arm. 

He only tightened his grip around me and mumbled something I didn’t understand. 

“Charlie… Charlie, wake up!”

My voice was becoming more and more urgent as the odd feeling was invading my body. There was a time I didn’t know what was this impression stronger and stronger within the seconds. It was like a veil enveloping me, tightening me so hard that it was making me suffocate without depriving me from oxygen. It also felt like a weight on my lungs, as if someone was pressing my chest constantly to make sure I wasn’t breathing. 

I didn’t know if it was my voice or my agitation, but Charlie woke up. He first opened an eye and muttered a few words before looking at me and opening both his eyes. 

“Y/N, love, are you okay?”

There was a knowing glimpse in his eyes, and he tried his best not to frown. I shook my head and closed my eyes, the movement having caused strong nauseas. 

“You should go back to sleep, you’re quite pale.”

Charlie put his hands on my shoulders and gently yet firmly pushed me back on the mattress. I barely nodded and curled up on a ball, letting him cover me with a blanket after a particularly bad shiver. He placed his hand on my forehead and his eyebrows furrowed. 

“You don’t seem to have a fever. Sleep, you’ll be better.”

He couldn’t know it, of course. None of us could. Maybe it would be better, maybe it would get worse.

He laid a light kiss on my forehead and left the room, closing quietly the door so that I wouldn’t be bothered by the noise. It only took a few seconds for me to close my eyes and fall in an agitated sleep. 

I opened them after what had felt like a minute. The feeling in my chest had disappeared, replaced by a headache particularly strong. Slowly, I sat on the bed and the mattress squeaked. The room was now dark, I couldn’t distinguish Charlie’s belongings on the floor anymore. I grabbed my wand which was on the nightstand. 

“Lumos.”

I crossed the room, picking up a sweater on the floor before joining the kitchen. I glanced through the window - it was night. The sky was dark, for what I could see there were no clouds and the moon was missing. A cold air stream made me shiver. I put on Charlie’s sweater and pushed the front door wide open. Charlie was standing a few meters away. His dark silhouette was barely visible, but he seemed to be staying still in spite of the wind. I walked toward him, and he only moved when I stopped just behind him, extending an arm and wrapping it around my shoulders before pulling me against him. 

“Aren’t you cold?” I whispered. Charlie was only wearing a shirt and I could feel his goosebumps against the skin on my neck. 

“No I’m okay, don’t worry.”

I looked up to see his face turned to the sky, and his eyes resolutely fixed on the stars. 

“It reminds me of the Astronomy tower.” I murmured a few minutes later. “When we would sneak out of the dorm and just go up there.”

“The good old days…” added Charlie. “Of course I remember. It was easier back then, wasn’t it?”

I nodded. Of course it was easier. Back then, we were teenagers in love and our only worries were to be caught by Filch in the corridors during night. Now, we were both afraid that whenever I closed my eyes I wouldn’t open them again. But the worst was that I knew it was easier for me than for Charlie. He would be the one to bury me, he would be the one to keep living with only our memories, and that was what I was the most afraid of, because I knew how much he put his heart in our relationship, I knew how deep was his love for me because it was as deep as mine for him, and I knew that if he had been the one to leave me, I would never have gotten over it. That would have broken me in the very same way as he was going to be broken. 

“Charlie?” He hummed in response, not looking away from the stars. “I’m sorry.”

It was rare to see Charlie’s walls crumbling, and now was one of these moments. His jaw clenched as if to make sure nothing would escape his mouth. He opened and closed his eyes several times to blink the tears away and suddenly, he engulfed me in a strong hug with the vivacity given by years of working with dragons. His hands were on my back, his long fingers clenched against it in an almost painful way that even the sweater couldn’t ease. I didn’t say anything though, and I held him even tighter, because I understood. 

“I love you so much…” he whispered in my hair, his voice shaky. “So much more than just to the moon and back… Y/N, I- please, don’t say you’re sorry. I know- I know you don’t want to leave me. I know it.” 

His hands cupped my cheeks and I rested my forehead against his, breathing deeply because I didn’t want to disturb the bubble around us. It was terribly sad but it was also filled with a love more pure than what we had ever shared before. Slowly, I kissed him. Our lips were trembling, our movements too clumsy and our muscles too tensed, but it brought me and incredible comfort. It brought me peace, because it was one more memory of Charlie to bring with me when the time would come, and because it was one more memory for him to keep for when he would need it. It was just us under the stars, two lovers whose story was bound to turn to the tragedy but whose love was deeper than anything else. 

It seemed like such a strong flame wasn’t meant to last. 

_ _ _ 

It had all begun with a simple headache. Sometimes, after having read for too long or helped Charlie with a dragon, a sharp pain would appear in my head and it would only disappear with a potion and a good night of sleep. Then it began to get more and more regular. Charlie was the first to get worried, and I would always shrug it off, pretending it was because I had read in the dark, or because I was tired.

After a while came the nauseas. Every morning I would wake up because of this pain in my stomach and run to the bathroom. I began to worry too but not for the same reason: I was sure I was pregnant. And if there was one thing we didn’t want with Charlie, it was kids. I told him about it, we freaked out together and I eventually took a few tests. They all happened to be negative, and after the relief had disappeared, another question had popped up in our heads. 

If it’s not a baby, then what is it?

But I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Maybe I was too scared, maybe deeply I knew something was wrong, fact is that when Charlie had asked me to go and see a doctor, his blue eyes full of worry, I had refused. Shrugged it off again. I had only accepted when it became harder and harder to breathe, always at random moments and for longer and longer moments. Charlie had brought me to the nearest hospital from the reserve and the diagnosis had come. 

I was sick. I was going to die.

Things had quickly worsened and, a month after my first visit to the hospital, during the first hours of the day, Charlie had brought me back there again, my limp body in his trembling arms. I had lost consciousness. The same nurse as the first time had taken care of me. The results were clear: there was nothing we could do anymore. 

“How are you feeling, love?”

Charlie’s voice was extremely quiet, and I could barely distinguish his silhouette in the darkness of the hospital room. It was late at night and the only light was coming from the streetlamps outside. 

“Now that you ask, the pillow is a bit hard.”

I didn’t need to see it to know Charlie had rolled his eyes. What he thought was nonchalance was always getting a bit more on his nerves and, even though he had never told me so, it was making me feel even guiltier. But it was for the better, or at least that’s what I tried to say to myself. Asking him to be strong for the both of us would be selfish. I knew it was easier for me than for him, and I didn’t have the right to add to his pain. 

“I can’t sleep.” I whispered, and Charlie’s hand immediately found mine.

It was closer to the truth. I was unable to close my eyes but not because I couldn’t… It was because I was terrified. Terrified because it could be the last time I closed them, because I wouldn’t have the time to say goodbye, because Charlie would be left alone and I didn’t want to do that to him. If there was one thing worse than wondering when you’re gonna die while on a hospital bed, it was thinking of the after. 

The after for me, because what would happen when my eyes would definitely close? Was I going to wake up in a fabulous place, surrounded by white clouds and lost persons that were dear to my heart? Or would it be more like nothing, emptiness I wouldn’t even be aware of, an eternity of just not existing, where I would forget and be forgotten? 

But the after for Charlie too, because what was he going to do? Would he cry or try to stay strong? Would he stay in our shared apartment or would he go back to his family? 

“Do you need anything?”

“Is a night or two in this hotel in Alaska too much to ask?”

The corner of Charlie’s mouth moved into a faint smile when he thought of the memorable week we had spent in Juneau. 

“I think I can manage this.”

I sighed and opened my arms, hoping he would understand the silent request. His face, previously quite relaxed, immediately gained back this anxiety that had never left him and he let go of my hand.

“I don’t think that’s reasonable…” he muttered.

“Fighting against three nurses to stay here day and night for a week wasn’t reasonable.” I corrected, a ghost of a smile on my lips. “Hugging me until I sleep is way more reasonable. Please.”

My hands still in the air as if to reach his, I suddenly hoped that, despite the darkness of the room, Charlie could see how desperate I was, how I needed his reassuring touch when the night was the most terrifying. Obviously, he understood, as he had always seemed to be reading my mind. He slowly got up, walked around the bed and slipped under the blanket behind me. His strong arms wrapped around me and he stuck his nose in my hair. 

“I love you.” he whispered, and the sound of his voice reached straight to my heart, making it beat faster and faster. “I love you, and I want you to know that no matter- I chose you Y/N, and if I was given the chance I would do it all over again.”

I was glad we couldn’t see each other. I didn’t know if I would have been able to bear the sight of his blue eyes sparkling not with joy but with tears as I knew they were, and I didn’t want him to see my face getting more and more wet as salty drops were overflowing. 

I wanted to answer him. I love you too. These four little words had always been so easy to say, so natural, but now it felt like a burn in my throat. It felt like a lie. How could these simple words said again and again possibly hold the immensity of my love for Charlie? It was like calling an ocean a drop of water, like calling a desert a grain of sand. What I felt for Charlie was so much more than love that calling it love was a lie. And despite everything I was leaving him, inexorably getting snatched from him and I didn’t even know what we had done to deserve that. 

Instead of saying something that would feel like a lie, it was easier to sound asleep. I steadied my breath as much as I could with the sobs that were blocked in my throat. I didn’t move. And Charlie was doing the same so that I was sure he was sleeping. I don’t know how long we stayed like this, but decades could have passed and I still wouldn’t be able to sleep. My mind was too concerned, my heart too pained. 

“You aren’t sleeping.”

Charlie’s breathing tickled my neck and I shivered. He misinterpreted and tightened his grip around me, pulling me closer to his torso.

“I still can’t.”

“You should get some rest, love. You’d feel better.”

“I know.”

Our voices were faint whispers that I was sure no one could hear even with their ear to the door. 

“I was thinking.” began Charlie, still murmuring in my hair. 

“Congratulations.” I smiled lightly when Charlie chuckled. 

“There’s so much I still want to do with you…” he said with a strangled voice. “You know, we’ve never danced together.”

“I’m sure we’ve already shared a dance or two.”

I closed my eyes, thinking of a night that seemed so far from us. We had spent hours dancing like fools, reproducing shamelessly muggle dances we had only seen once or twice, and it was one of my best memories with Charlie. 

It was in another life.

“Not like this. A slow dance during which I could hold you really close and…” He stopped and sighed, very lightly though, as if he didn’t want me to hear it. “Let’s dance.” he suddenly said. 

It was my turn to sigh. I wanted it so bad, of course I wanted to be held in his arms, but I knew I wouldn’t have the strength. I couldn’t walk on my own anymore for days, now.

“Charlie, I-”

“Don’t think about it. Do you want to dance with me, love?”

“You know the answer.”

Charlie left the bed and my back suddenly felt cold. I didn’t move, still giving him my back; my eyes were closed, I was trying to imagine the next seconds. Charlie whispered a first spell which I didn’t understand as it was muttered underneath his breath. He said something else - a spell I understood but that I had never heard before - and music echoed in the room. Then, extremely precociously, as if I was a fragile porcelain doll, his arms slipped under my body, bringing with them a welcome warmth. He lifted me up effortlessly, giving the impression that I didn’t weigh more than a feather, and immediately pulled me close to him, the closest possible. I snuggled against his torso and wrapped my arms around his neck. 

Suddenly, I wasn’t dying anymore, Charlie wasn’t grieving. I had never felt like this before. My heart was fast, so fast that in any other moment I would have worried. But I knew it wasn’t bad, it was the most fabulous feeling. It wasn’t euphoria that was flooding in my veins, it was something way softer that was soothing everything in me. Charlie’s body was firm against mine but his touch was like a caress, light, gentle. My face was hidden in the crook of his neck, and his head was bowed and resting on mine. 

Charlie had never really known how to dance. He was a clumsy boy, not really the kind who went to girls during balls. However, tonight, he was perfect. Perfectly in rhythm with the music, perfectly steady as he waltzed in this dark hospital room, perfectly him when his lips kissed mine.

It felt like a second or a lifetime before he eventually stopped - more like a lifetime, because feeling so many things during a second was impossible. Charlie delicately lied me back in the bed and covered me tenderly with the blanket. Slowly, his hand found my cheek, cupped it, stroked it. He bent over me and kissed my forehead, and in the darkness the only thing I could see was a blue sparkle moving away from me when Charlie straightened. 

“I love you so much, Y/N, so much…”

“So much more than just to the moon and back…”

When I closed my eyes, I realized it was time. It was my last night, my last seconds with Charlie. I wanted to fight, I wanted to keep my eyes open, but Charlie’s other hand cupped my other cheek. His face approached mine, and in his teary eyes I saw that he had realised too. His lips barely touched mine. 

A tear rolled down his cheek, and I closed my eyes.

[thebigqueer]

"Blood of Justice" - Nico di Angelo - One-Shot

Summary: Nico confronts Eros for one last stand.

Notes: This fanfic was inspired by this art by @rottingold!!

TW: Blood, war, violence.

Word Count: 1407

Read on AO3

Sometimes the only way to achieve justice is by spilling old blood.

The air pulses with heat and misery. Smoke billows around Nico, suffocating their nostrils and wrapping its limbs around their throat. The echoes of torture ring in Nico’s ears as their footsteps thrum over the war-ridden grounds. Blood and bodies litter over the battlefield, steaming with stench, but they barely have time to stop and be disgusted.

At the far end of the battlefield, the last deity stands beaten and battered: Eros, god of love. His long, dark hair streaks across the gray skies and grates against his face; blood red eyes glare at Nico.

Nico’s sword thrums in their hand as they edge closer. As they approach, Eros’ eyes glimmer with amusement. A tired, sarcastic smile stretches across his ruby lips.

“Ah,” he murmurs, “so I see my last stand is near.”

A gust of warm air blows against Nico’s face. Their long, white hair brushes against their cheeks and reaches behind them, almost as if begging to return to their camp.

But Nico will not turn back. This is their last chance to do something meaningful.

They raise an eyebrow. The various cuts across Nico’s forehead sting at the movement, but they ignore the pain.

“Scared?” Nico asks. “Don’t worry, I can make this quick. Do not expect mercy from me, my lord.”

Eros crosses his arms across his chest and laughs calmly. His eyes gleam with madness. “Why must you do this? We are going to die anyway. It’s the end of the world, child of Hades. There will be nothing more after the two of us are gone. Why come after me in the last few moments you could spend for yourself?”

Nico raises their sword and runs a pale finger over the black blade. Their face reflects back at them from the darkness. “I want justice,” they murmur. “You hurt me long ago, Eros. Now that both of us will be gone, I won’t get a punishment for any of my actions. I can do whatever I want with you.” They tilt their head towards the god. “You are at my mercy now.”

“I could kill you just as easily,” Eros says. “Neither of our deaths matter anymore.”

“Not to you,” whispers Nico. “But to me, your passing is very important. Maybe in the long run this won’t matter anymore. None of it will. But I want to go after making my last stand. I want to leave this world having finally confronted one last ghost.”

“I’m honored to think that I have made such an impact on you that you consider me to be one of your metaphorical ghosts,” Eros says. “Humans are funny with all their symbolism and metaphors.”

Nico raises their sword. Another gust of wind pushes against them, tangles through their moonlight hair, whispers against their ears. They pull their other hand to their face and wipe a stream of blood away, but that only manages to extend the red color across their face. Nico’s eyes roil and burn with hatred and a lust for revenge.

“Now, Eros,” Nico says calmly, “do you want to fight and make this fun for me, or do you want to stand down and make it easy? I have no preference for either.”

“What makes you think I couldn’t easily obliterate you?” inquires the god, raising an eyebrow.

“You could,” agrees the demigod, nodding. “But you said it yourself: it doesn’t matter what happens. The only difference between us is that you have no reason to hurt me, yet I have every reason to kill you. So choose: fight me, or stand down and let me finish this for you.” Nico brushes the point of their sword against Eros’ chin, drawing a line of golden ichor as they do so. Eros hisses as the blade cuts him open, but he does not move. “Any decision you make,” continues Nico, “is no problem to me. You will be consumed into the darkness no matter what. And I will be going down with you.”

Suddenly Eros’ cool, calm facade dissipates; he bares his blood-coated teeth and offers a knife-like glare to Nico. “Why are you doing this?” he hisses.

Nico leans closer and grits their teeth. They jab their sword closer to Eros’ neck, drawing another line of ichor as they travel deeper and deeper into his skin. “I want to hurt you,” growls Nico. “I want to hurt you like you hurt me so long ago. I want to see you suffer the way I have suffered because of you.”

“And you think revenge will make you feel better?” hisses Eros. “You think that, as the world around us is ending and we’re going to die anyway, killing me will automatically cure you of your hot anger? You are just as naïve as you were so many centuries ago.”

Nico laughs humorlessly. The sound of it echoes in Eros’ ears, drenches his soul with dread, chills his bones with terror. For the first time in centuries, Eros is afraid. A mere demigod should not make him fearful, and yet…

Nico steps forward and, in an unexpected move, shoves their foot over Eros’ own. Searing, angry pain lurches up his body and explodes in his head, and he cries out. He crumples to the hot ground and tries desperately to pull Nico off, but the demigod is too strong; their foot is almost permanently a part of Eros.

“This will not make me feel better,” Nico agrees. “But I don’t need to feel better. I’ve already gotten over it long, long ago. I’m doing it for you, my lord. I believe in justice, and this is what you deserve.”

At Nico’s words, painful anger bursts in Eros’ core. He lunges towards Nico, but before he can fully rise and strangle the demigod, Nico presses their other foot over his right hand. A sickening crunch crackles in the humid air and color explodes in Eros’ eyes. As the pain rises up his arm and thrums in his head, a scream lurches out of his chest and strangles his throat.

Hot tears pool in Eros’ eyes and dribble over his face, their salty taste mingling with his golden ichor. Drops of gold explode over the red, steaming earth and with shock, Eros realizes this is truly the end.

“I suppose you’re choosing to make this easy for me, then,” decides Nico. Their shoulders rise and fall in a graceful shrug. “Works for me, although I would have liked to have something a little more eventful.”

“You… miserable… demigod,” huffs Eros through gritted teeth. “This is… worthless.”

“NOT TO ME!” cries Nico, and with a trickle of fear, Eros notices the angry madness in their eyes. Their sword edges closer to his neck. “This is not worthless to me. I want to die knowing you’re in pain. I want to die knowing I’ve made death just as sufferable for you as life has been for me. I want to die knowing you are being tortured.”

“Have you been satisfied yet?” grits Eros. “Is this enough for you?”

A sharp smile pierces their mouth again. The sight of it makes Eros’ blood turn to ice; his body thrums with fear.

Nico is no demigod. Nico is rage and revenge, destruction and fear; they are a detonating bomb.

They are anger made into a human.

Nico tilts their head. Excitement hums in their blood as they raise their sword. Anticipation burns hotly against their skin.

“Oh, Eros,” murmurs Nico. “Don’t worry, it will all be over soon. You’ve lived a long, torturous life. I hope death will bring you some peace.”

The air rings as Nico swipes their sword in the air. The world around the two stills. For a moment, the two are stuck in time. The blade gleams in Nico’s hand, glimmering in Eros’ eyes. The air turns to ice.

This is it. The last stand. Eros’ final breath.

Nico slashes the sword down.

A moment of hesitation. A burst of light. A sharp explosion of pain.

The last image that Eros sees is of Nico di Angelo, with a wild, insane sparkle in their eyes and a joyous red smile across their face.

Then Eros’ world fades to black. He spills into the darkness of nothingness, leaving Nico as the last one standing on this godforsaken world.

The blood of justice has been spilt.

[abnormallynice]

Confession By Proxy

Read it on AO3

Collab with the wonderful @kirbychan234​ to make a prequel fic/comic for the First Date Comic I made a whiiile ago because everyone was curious why exactly Neku was so beaten up. I did the pretty pictures and they did the amazing words and stuff! ;D

Go give KirbyChan some love on tumblr and AO3 for writing the fic portion and making me squee with their writing >:3

Neku sighs as he drops his bag to the side, the door to his apartment sliding shut on its own. It’s late, he’s tired and sore and way too lazy to worry about unpacking right now. He’ll do it tomorrow. Or maybe never. Whichever one comes first.

Instead, he goes over to his closet and starts to remove his scarf and coat. Once those are deposited on the floor as well (he’ll hang them up later, he swears), Neku reaches to close the door. 

“Have fun?”

The voice makes Neku jump and fall into his still open closet. “JESUS-!” Very unmanly, and he can hear laughter behind him that makes his blood boil. 

Joshua looks as smug as ever when Neku turns around to glare at him. “Close,” he replies airily. “But not quite~” And he shrugs, like he didn’t just scare the living daylights out of him.

“For fuck’s sake-” Neku groans as he sits up. “Text. Doorbell. Knocking. PICK ONE. Seriously, that’s all you’d have to do.” 

Neku cuts himself off when he feels a familiar jolt of pain in his arm. He grabs it without thinking and feels a warm wetness, and when he pulls his hand away, his fingers are tinged with blood. “...Shit.” 

He doesn’t even see Joshua move, but suddenly he’s there, kneeling down beside him, and with a surprisingly gentle touch on his wounded arm. Neku feels his breath catch in his throat as Joshua looks over the bloodstain with calculating eyes. “What is-?”

The gentle hand is smacked away. Joshua’s pity is neither wanted nor needed. “Nothing,” Neku says while quickly getting to his feet. “It’s nothing.” 

“That doesn’t-”

Neku doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else before quickly darting off. He runs into the bathroom and locks the door. He can hear Joshua sigh exasperatedly but he hardly cares. There’s a way more pressing issue right now. He already aches all over; he does not need this. 

There’s a soft knock at the door. Oh so he does know how to knock. “What are you hiding, Neku?” Joshua asks easily. 

“I said nothing!” Neku yells back. “Just leave! Poof away, magic genie!”

He can practically feel Joshua rolling his eyes, but Neku ignores it. What he can’t ignore, however, is the sudden chill running down his spine. This sensation...it’s familiar, he’s definitely felt it before, almost like-

Noise?

And then the sensation is gone as quickly as it appeared. In its place stands Joshua, inside the bathroom, having come from nowhere and looking none too impressed. Neku freezes, not only from surprise, but also because Joshua can see the stitches in his arm now. “Don’t DO that! Can’t a guy have some damn privacy? Go away!”

Joshua has clearly had enough. Neku can barely blink before Josh was in his personal space once more, grabbing his face and looking him over. Neku squirms, but Josh holds strong, appraising the bruise on his jaw and the bandage on his right eyebrow.

“Mm.” Josh hums and eventually lets Neku go. “Face is fine. Although it looks like one of the stitches on your arm came loose.”

“Huh?” Neku looks down to his arm. Well. That explains the blood. “Oh. Shit. Uh, I should really go to a hospital-”

Joshua puts a finger over Neku’s mouth, smiling pleasantly like usual. “No need for that, dear~”

Neku feels himself blushing, and he hates it, because he knows Josh isn’t taking this seriously. And he’s got that tone again, like Joshua knows something he doesn’t. Then again, what else is new? “Shut up,” he grumps. “I don’t need you revealing another improbable mystery that is Joshua Kiryu. Leave me alone.”

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Joshua doesn’t listen and instead gently takes Neku’s arm in his hands. “Now now, let’s take a look. I’ll be but a minute, and I’ll even do it free of charge.”

“That’s a lie.”

“No lies this time~” Neku resists the urge to groan. This time, he says. Ugh. “Won’t you tell me what happened though? I didn’t expect you to come home all beaten up.” 

He really doesn’t want to. But Neku gets the feeling Josh won’t let it go until he does. So…

The room is quiet when Neku finishes, the only sound is the small rustling of Joshua rebandaging Neku’s arm. They moved into Neku’s living room while he explained what happened, Neku sitting on the couch and Joshua sitting on the nearby coffee table. It’s hard to tell what Josh is thinking; nevermind that Neku can barely see his face from where he’s sitting. It still annoys him, because more than likely, he’s smirking that smug smirk of his. 

“The fine line between bravery and suicide,” Joshura starts, and yep, that smirk is there. Neku knew it, and it annoys him even more. “You sure know how to tightrope across it, don’t you, Neku?” His tone betrays sweetness, laced with sarcasm instead. It makes Neku grit his teeth. “What would you have done?” He snaps, and then immediately regrets his question. Knowing Joshua, he’d probably take a video or something. 

Besides, no matter what Joshua, or anyone for that matter, thought, Neku doesn’t regret his decision. He doesn’t want to imagine what kind of injuries a six-year-old girl would get with an impact like that. “Ugh, nevermind. It’s just a scrape anyway, it’s not a big deal.” 

Joshua raises a brow at him. “Oh? “Just a scrape”?” He doesn’t look impressed, and Neku’s eye twitches at his tone. “One that needed twelve stitches?” Okay so maybe it’s a little more than that, but whatever. “Be grateful your little falling act only bumped it instead of tore it open even more. This’ll last much longer since, well, I bound it this time~” 

Neku rolls his eyes. “My savior. Yay.” 

The chuckle that follows makes Neku nervous. He jolts when he feels arms lean on his legs. Joshua is very close now, staring up at him from between his knees, resting on his haunches and leaning his arms on Neku’s thighs. Neku has to fight hard not to blush. “So snappy,” he says with another laugh. “Is the child still grumpy about the argument we had before he left?”

There’s that tone again. Neku’s embarrassment dies down quickly, and he sighs. “Would you stop? I don’t have the energy.” And he’s not lying, but he also really just doesn’t want to talk about this right now, not when Josh is being such an asshole about it. 

But...now that he gets a better look at Joshua, it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be an asshole...at least not right now. He actually looks curious, like he’s actually bothered by the fact that Neku could still be upset. Which is stupid, because Neku knows better than to think Josh could be bothered by anything. 

Other than, you know, attempting to kiss him and then having him disappear for five years. But that’s neither here nor there. 

“I...was,” Neku finally replies honestly. “...But I get the reasons why you couldn’t come along.”

Joshua’s smile is, for once, soft. He leans his cheek on his arm (which is still on Neku’s leg what the fuck Josh). “Is not having me under your constant supervision that upsetting? Would putting a leash on me satisfy?” 

Neku tries to ignore that mental image and huffs. Well excuse him for being paranoid about his friend disappearing again for another five years. Really, Joshua has nobody to blame but himself for that. “Oh please,” he replies. “As if I could ever control you. I’d never want to, and even if I ever tried, I know I can’t. I just wanted…”

He trails off, looks anywhere but at Joshua. “I just...wanted my friend to come with us on a trip, that’s all.” And Neku curses his heart rate for speeding up at the word “friend”. “I don’t know why I got so upset that you couldn’t go. Of course you couldn’t have gone, I know that, but…” 

Joshua cuts him off with another laugh. “Aw. I’m touched, Neku,” he says, amused.

Neku is frozen. What a time to remember what Shiki said, now, with Joshua so damn close to him. And with his heart rate betraying him even more, feeling like it’s about to explode out of his chest. Joshua is so close, Neku wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear the damn thing. 

If he does, Joshua doesn’t comment on it. He’s still far too close though. “Maybe it’s better that I didn’t go, seeing how you ended up,” he says lightly. “It seems like it was far too exciting a trip for my tastes-”

“Why do you keep touching me?” Neku interrupts him, unable to look at him, and wanting to get his rapidly beating heart to calm the fuck down, Jesus Christ. 

“Hm?” Joshua’s smirk turns playful. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll bite, dea-?”

“STOP.” 

Neku’s voice even surprises himself. But thankfully it does the trick; Joshua stops his tease and is now looking more serious than Neku has ever seen him. He sits back a bit, gives Neku a little more breathing room, but doesn’t stop looking at him. Keeps silent as if waiting for Neku to continue.

He swallows, nervous, and leans his arms on his legs where Josh just was. “Just...just stop dancing around my questions. For once, just give me a straight answer.”

Joshua keeps quiet, and Neku bites his lip, staring at the floor. “Why do you keep touching me so casually? Why only me? Why…” He sighs. “Why does my heart break every time you do?”

He grabs onto Joshua’s sleeve, still refusing to make eye contact. “Why did you come back? Why did you leave? Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Am I nothing to you?” With every word, Neku feels himself start to get choked up more and more, and it shocks him. Why is this just coming out now? 

Finally, Neku finds the courage to lift his head, and meets Joshua’s gaze.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Neku freezes. ‘Wh-what? Why did I say that? I meant *like*!’ His throat refuses to work anymore, and now there’s no way he can save this. He clutches Joshua’s sleeve tighter. ‘No! I fucked up! Don’t leave me…!’

“I don’t know.” 

Neku lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Joshua’s voice betrays no emotion; it’s impossible to know what he’s thinking. “You make me feel at ease. I think I might have some yearning, but then again, I’m probably not the best judge.”

He’s so matter-of-fact that it throws Neku for a complete loop. “Huh?” 

“I’m answering your questions, Neku,” Joshua replies patiently. “As honestly as I am able.” Neku’s heart jumps in his throat when Joshua takes his hand delicately. “I came back because I wanted to understand. I left because I didn’t understand. And no, you’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m not sure what you are, but “nothing” is far from it.” 

Then Joshua takes Neku’s other hand, looking so damn gentle. Neku isn’t sure how he’s even breathing at this point. He’s pretty sure his heart is about to pop out of his chest at any second. “And finally, I might have still left. I don’t know. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to.” 

It takes a moment for Neku’s voice to work again. “Uh…” he finally manages to get out. “Wow. I’m...surprised that actually worked.”

As if the past few minutes didn’t happen, that smirk was back on Joshua’s face. “Better take advantage of my honesty while you still can~” he says, and presses Neku’s hand to his cheek teasingly. 

And shit, that’s actually really cute? Neku flushes horribly and sputters, a little miffed that Josh rendered him speechless far too many times in the short hour or so he’s been here. “Um - uh - what - what’s your social media password?”

Without missing a beat, Joshua replies, “dr0p_d3ad_g0rg30s.”

How the hell did he do that with his mouth??? “Did you let me win at Tin Pin Online?”

“Yes, but only the first time.”

“How old are you for real?”

Joshua laughs. “Old enough~” 

And just like that, honesty hour is gone. “That’s cheating!” Neku huffs. 

Even if Josh doesn’t bother with a response, that’s fine. There are other things Neku wants to say anyway. “Um so, one more question?” 

“Alright.”

Neku bites the inside of his cheek, hesitates. “Do you...wanna date?”

Joshua hums, looks to be in deep thought, though his smile softens quite a bit. “Sure,” he replies. “I’ll go steady with you, Neku.” 

Holy shit. Neku can’t believe this is actually happening. Internally, he’s screaming. On the outside, however, all he can do is clear his throat. “Dope.” 

Okay that was lame as hell. But he can’t take it back now. 

“My turn.” 

Neku snaps to sudden attention. “What?”

“I have questions too,” Joshua adds. “I believe it’s my turn, if you’re done~” 

Uh-oh. Neku doesn’t like that look in Joshua’s eye. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to believe that the worst has already passed. “Uh...okay, sure.” 

“When are you going to stop asking dumb questions and kiss me?”

Neku’s internal screaming, which had calmed down in the last few seconds, suddenly shoots right back up even louder than before. It takes an absurd amount of self-control to not shriek like a giddy school girl asking out her crush. Instead, Neku manages to take a deep breath, cough, and finally answer. “I was getting to it, smartass.” 

[charlotte-balfours-garden]

more oc lore! a follow-up to whatever this is

(@artimator your tag about wanting more eli stories was enough to get me writing, so thank you! <3)

***

He wakes in a dark room that smells faintly of alcohol.

The muted sounds of drunk voices and lively music seep through the thin floorboards and - whenever a particularly gaudy chord is played - make the bed he’s lying in vibrate ever so slightly. He can painfully feel every heartbeat in his head, accompanied by a rhythmic throbbing somewhere in his stomach area, and is somehow aware of every damn bone in his body.

Stomach’s not a good body part to catch a bullet with. But at least his heart is still beating, that’s for sure.

He hazily remembers revenue agents, far too many, and a long night of riding. Riding where? The pillow is soft and he’s quite certain there are four walls around him, and a roof over his head.

Where?

Soon he falls into a troubled sleep again, plagued by dreams of wolves and dynamite, and when he wakes a second time, the throbbing has spread to his chest. Last time he felt like this (close to this, at least) was the morning after the grand opening of the moonshine bar, some months ago. Just like back then, the sound of early bird songs is now shrilling in his ears.

He opens his eyes.

The room is less dark now, and also less blurry than before. Groaning, he turns his head to determine his exact location. A chair in the corner, a wardrobe, flimsy curtains letting in the first light of a new day, a familiar coat on the coat rack by the door. Maggie’s coat. The moonshine shack. Explains the ungodly noises from the basement.

Without thinking much, he lifts the thin blanket to have a look at this aching torso. It’s a strange relief to see he’s still wearing his drawers, as if modesty was the thing that mattered most right now. He’s not exactly surprised by the cotton bandages wrapped tightly around his entire upper body, stained a grisly reddish-brown just below his left ribs. With a whispered oof he lets the merciful cover fall down again. Someone cared well for him. The thought hurts.

There’s a knock on the door and before Eli can say anything, Lem sticks his head into the room.

“Oh!” he exclaims and disappears again.

Water.

Eli carefully props himself up on his elbows. The pain isn’t as bad as he had feared, the headache on the other hand… Just when he has managed the arduous task of pushing back the blanket and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, the door opens again and Maggie bursts into the small room, followed closely by Lem.

“Finally! I sure thought we’d lost you for good.”

Eli shrugs and attempts a half-smile. “How long…?” His voice breaks.

“About three days, I believe. Here, put this on, it’s one of Lem’s old shirts. It’s going to be far too large for you, but I couldn’t get all the blood out of yours.

“‘s okay. Thanks.”

“Not to mention the hole. You’re lucky it was a clean shot and I could get the bullet out quickly.”

“Mh-mh.” Putting on the checkered flannel shirt surprisingly hurts worse than (half) getting out of bed, and it takes longer, too. As predicted, it’s a very loose fit, but the fabric is soft and dry and that’s all he could ever ask for.

“How do you feel?” Lem asks from behind Maggie.

“Okay. I’m-” He makes a vague gesture toward his bare shins.

Maggie nudges Lem with her elbow. “Get the boy his pants. They’re still by the fireplace.”

Lem nods and disappears again, and Maggie sits down on the chair. “Do you think you can walk? It’s easier to put on pants standing up.”

She hands him her cane and when he pushes himself up from the mattress, the world goes blurry again. He takes a deep breath and, when the dizziness is gone, manages to hobble all the way to the kitchen table where Lem already awaits him with his good black pants. Supported on both sides by the Fikes, dressing himself has never felt more humiliating, but it works. Maggie hands him his boots, and suddenly he feels whole again. Exhausted, he collapses on a chair. The kitchen is as cozy as ever, lit by the fireplace and the first sunrays, warmed by the stove, the smell of beans and meat in the air. He can see his duster coat still hanging to dry by the fire, good thing he’d chosen the black one, for it too was certainly stained quite badly.

“Well done,” Maggie smiles, “you’re back from the dead.”

Lem puts down a steaming bowl of stew and a glass of water on the table in front of him. It’s a simple gesture. Eli almost tears up.

He empties the glass in one go, and it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

He doesn’t particularly feel like eating, but he knows the wobbly feeling in his legs is most likely caused by three days of involuntary fasting and not the gunshot wound. The stew doesn’t taste like much. It does him good, though, and as the warmth spreads inside of him, he can feel the headache slowly ebb away.

Both Lem and Maggie watch him intently, and when he finishes the bowl and gives them what he hopes is a cheery smile, Lem clears his throat.

“So,” - he wrings his hands, barely able to contain his grin - “there’s actually a little surprise for you.”

“For me?” He doesn’t want any more surprises. He wants to go back to bed and sleep for another three days.

“Yeah. I know you mentioned a few times you had a dog back at your camp, and well, look who showed up yesterday.”

He slowly opens the door that leads to the stairway and all Eli can make out is a flash of brown and white fur, and then Alba is all over him, climbing into his lap, licking his face and neck, only to jump down again and repeat the process. “Alba!” Eli laughs, trying to get hold of her and failing, “Good girl! No! Not the face! My girl!”

Once or twice she pushes against his abdomen and it explodes with pain, but he doesn’t care. The dog’s energy is contagious, and when she finally comes to rest in his lap, limp from excitement, her nose in his face, he thinks it has never felt so good to hold a living, breathing thing. He has to strain his neck to look past the foxhound’s shoulder and over to Maggie and Lem. “How did she find us?”

Maggie shrugs. “No idea. But she sure as hell woke the whole house with her scratching on the front door yesterday.”

“Except for me.”

“Well, I think you’re sufficiently excused. Oh, before I forget. There’s another thing.” She walks over to her desk and returns with a letter. “Lem collected it at the Valentine post office.”

“For me?” he asks again, stupidly. The only letters he ever receives are from Madam Nazar or sometimes Cripps, but this one looks different. The envelope is shabbier than those by Nazar, and less shabbier than those by Cripps, and the paper inside of it seems to weigh quite heavy.

“Elijah Ira Flanagan. That’s your name, ain’t it?” Maggie long knows that reading isn’t exactly his strong suit, so she opens the envelope without hesitation and starts to read aloud.

Within seconds, Eli feels a nausea he had long thought overcome.

Gently, he pushes Alba off his legs and after some protesting, she comes to rest with her head on his knee, drenching his freshly washed pants in drool, looking up to him with her quiet, brown eyes. Eli doesn’t return the trusty gaze. He stares into the fire, transfixed by the dancing flames and the words he hears.

… found myself back in these parts of the country … heard you have made quite a name for yourself … a lot has happened since then, almost none of it good … doesn’t feel the same without you ...

Maggie’s steady voice and the crackling of the fire make for an intriguing background noise as Eli remembers:

A hand wrapped tightly around his own.

A gun to his head.

A knife to his face.

Fuck.

Maggie reads and reads, a smirk on her lips and an eyebrow slightly raised, and all he wants to do is to slap the letter out of her hands or better, toss it straight into the fire.

All he does is blush.

When she folds the letter again, the last words hang heavy in the room, always yours, and a name he’d never wanted to hear or read again. He knows exactly what it must look like on the paper - big, clumsy letters, slanted to the right.

“Well,” Lem says from where he stands leaning against a kitchen cupboard, but before he can continue voicing whatever pointless thought he wants to release into the world, Eli gets up and makes for the door, Alba at his heels, tail wagging. He ignores the screaming pain in his side, and the nausea, and when the world goes blurry again, he wipes away a tear. He hears Lem call after him, followed by a vigorous Let him from Maggie.

Once the front door is open, the cool morning air hits him like a brick wall.

A deep breath.

Another one.

Life returning to his bones.

Dawn. A new beginning.

It’s gonna be fine.

Deep breath.

It’s a beautiful day, probably the most wretched one of his life. So far.

He turns around the house’s corner and relief washes over him as he sees Pepper tied to the hitching rail, munching on tough grass, waiting to take him somewhere far, far away. Again.

It’s gonna be fine.

[phoenixhalliwell]

Waking Up In Vegas

Pairings: Benny Miller X Gender Neutral Reader (I have given them a call sign ‘Tink’ cos I love that nickname lol)

Word count: 2490

Author’s Note: Tumblr is being a wee weirdo and I cant find the link for this fic and my other frankie one for my masterlist so I have to report again *cries*

Archnemesis Benny and reader wake up the morning after a wild night in Vegas with the boys to a surprise revelation.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG 

 It takes a second to realise that the noise isn’t just your head pounding but in fact someone knocking rapidly at the door. A whimper leaves you as you try not to throw up. You wiggle around the bed, trying to get loose from the heavy blankets but fail miserably.

“Please, stop….too loud. Dying” is all you’re able to croak out. Your mouth is drier than the desert and a one man band is marching in your head. Looking down you realise that it is not a blanket weighing you down but an arm. An arm that is now pulling you backwards to firmly press you against their warm chest. A groan comes from behind you and a face  nuzzles into your throat. You can feel the panic starting to build in your chest.

'Oh god, oh god. What the fuck!’ You are brought out of your freak out by a familiar voice.

“Are you going to open the door willingly Tink? Or am I going to have to come in there myself!”

Frankie! Relief rushes through you at your saviour. Frankie is a good guy, he won’t give you shit for this like the other boys. It’ll be swept under the rug and no one else has to know. That’s why Frankie is your favourite. The person behind you suddenly makes their displeasure at being rudely woken known.

“Will you shut the fuck up Fish, some of us are trying to sleep”

A coldness rushes through you. NO. FUCKING. WAY. Not him. Please not him. Slowly turning in the arms that have you in a death grip, you let out a low moan. Benny Miller is lying there in all his glory. He looks almost angelic with the way the morning sunlight hits him just right, making him glow. But you know the truth.

That man is the fucking DEVIL.

To say you and Benny dislike one another was an understatement. There is a long standing feud between you and the younger Miller that goes so far back you can’t quite remember how it started. You were originally a medic under the command of his brother Will, but over time (with Will vouching for your skills) you’d been pulled into other little jobs that involved his old army buddies and his dipshit little brother. You were welcomed into this little make shift family with open arms (well by most people anyways).Will, Santiago and Frankie - you thought the world of.  Benny…. let’s just say you wouldn’t piss on if he was on fire. There was just something about Benny that just irks you. The way he calls you names and winds you up until you explode and end up being separated by Will who is sick of both of your shit. That god damn cocky grin rubs you up the wrong way. The way he thinks he’s god’s gift to mankind and struts about. Sure, he is a handsome man and is talented at his profession.He can be kind when he wants to be. He’s loyal and he’ll have your back if the situation calls for it,  but it doesn’t mean he has to show off all the fucking time! He’s a god damn pain in your ass!

So to wake up this morning and find out you two have evidently slept together causes a small part of you to die inside. This bastard is never going to let you hear the end of it. You try to cast your mind back on what actually led you to your current predicament.

You and the boys were spending the weekend in Vegas for Santiago’s bachelor party. The wild stallion had finally been tamed and he wanted one last hoorah with his family before the new chapter of his life. The original plan was to have a nice dinner at the Bellagio before hitting up the tables in hopes of winning some cash. That part you could remember, it is the rest that comes in drips and drabs.

The chant of “Shots! Shots! Shots!” echoes in your mind and there is still a faint taste of tequila in your mouth. 'That explains why I can’t remember jack shit. Did we do Karaoke?’ You can see Frankie and Benny screeching “I want to know what love is ” with Will swaying along and Santi throwing money at the them from the front of the stage. 'Why can I hear bells ringing?’ There is also a familiar body ache you know the exact cause of. More flashes come to mind that make your heart race : Stumbling into walls, the desperation of trying to undress quickly, a hot breath on your neck, hands gripping your waist, filthy words being whispered into your ear….

'I’m never drinking again’

The banging at the door starts again, Frankie is clearly pissed at being kept waiting.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your marital bliss but check out is at 11 and I know for a fact neither of you fuck heads have packed”

Marital bliss? Who the hell is married?

You eyes drift down to your left hand and its suddenly hard to breathe. There is a nice new addition to your ring finger. A gold band that sure as shit was not there yesterday. This seems like the perfect moment to start screaming. Benny is up in an instant, scanning the room for the unknown threat. Once he realises it’s just the two of you, his body relaxes and he scrubs his hand over his face. It takes him a moment to notice the feeling of cold metal on his skin and he stares down at his hand, an unreadable look on his face. You are just able to hear him whisper

“Fuck, its real”

This whole situation is suddenly too much and everything becomes blurry as tears fall from your eyes. You can feel yourself start to hyperventilate and Benny is at your side in an instant trying to console you.

“Come on sweetheart you need to calm down. Feel my chest and breathe with me yeah? In… and out…. It’s ok I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurances over and over again. You try to focus on the sound of his deep voice, try to follow his instructions to help regulate your breathing. Gradually it returns to normal and you slump forward into Benny’s arms suddenly exhausted. He rubs his hand up and down your back, somewhat soothing you. You  feel him sigh before he turns his face into your hair and presses a gentle kiss to your head. It suddenly occurs to you that Benny has never been this gentle with you and your heart clenches a little. You feel him pull away from you and have to stop yourself from squeezing him tight.  You stand there for a few seconds in silence before you hear the door opening behind you. Frankie must have found the spare key to your room.

“Are you guys still alive in here?” he asks timidly, glancing between  you and Benny,  eyes zoning in on how close the both of you were.

“Yeah man, we’re good.” Benny  replies, moving to stand on the other side of the room.

“Look I am really sorry to rush you’s but Will’s anxious to get on the road and he might end up murdering Santi before the wedding if we all don’t hustle” Frankie says apologetically.

“I’ll catch you guys downstairs. I won’t be long” Benny grabs his things off the floor before making a break for the door, leaving you and Frankie to stare at each other awkwardly.

“Not a word Morales” you threaten.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Tink. Let’s pack your stuff and get the fuck out of dodge yeah?”

Like you said. Frankie was always your favourite.

Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover breakfast. Those little shits planned it so you and Benny are forced to sit side by side in the booth. Frankie is looking somewhat sympathetic when Santi slides a piece of paper over to you with a shit eating grin. It’s photographic evidence of the worst decision of your life. You still weren’t sure how you guys ended up in the little white chapel saying the big 'I Do’. None of the boys seem to remember either or were just refusing to give up any information about it in case they incriminated one of their brothers.

'Bet you it was all that bastard Santi’s fault’

Sighing, you finally look down at the photo in front of you. It was the 5 of you all lined up. You and Benny stand in the middle of the photo, clinging to each other. You were snuggled into his chest as he gazes down at you in awe. You swallow sharply and tear your eyes over to Will who is off to Benny’s left and appears to be crying? (I was just so happy someone took the little shit off my hands) Obviously Will stood in as Benny’s best man, that was a given. On the far end of the photo on your side stood Santi who looked dishevelled and pissed off. Was that blood on his shirt? Between him and you stood Frankie who (unusual for him) was sporting a Cheshire grin. Confused, you looked up at the two men in front of you and suddenly noticed real life Santi had a black eye.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

The two men glanced at each other in embarrassment before Santi quietly admitted that he and Frankie had got into a fist fight over who was going to be your right hand man. Will snorts into his hand in the corner.

'God give me strength not to kill these stupid bastards’  Sighing and rubbing your temples you shot them a glare which has the 3 men across from you cowering in their seats.

“So at no point did any of you guys think to put a stop to this madness?” You growl.

“Is the idea of being married to me really the worst thing in the world?” You hear Benny asks quietly, still not looking at you.

The boys have the good grace to look a little ashamed before Santi decides to pipe up and make his defence.

“Well how could we? Benny spent the best part of the night proclaiming his undying love you. Fuck he even serenaded you at the Karaoke bar.” There is a loud thud and Santi’s face  twists into a grimace. Apparently someone had kicked him under the table.

“Yeah right as if Benny would ever say anything like that! He hates my fucking guts. Right Benny?” You scoff and nudge him with your elbow. An uncomfortable silence washes over the table and Benny refuses to look at you. It’s good old Will who breaks the silence, abruptly standing up.

“Why don’t we go sort out the bill yeah?” looking to his brothers.

Santi squawks in outrage and throws up his hands “But it was just getting to the good part!!!” Will grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him out of the booth, muttering furiously into his ear before marching him off to god knows where. Frankie reaches over and gently squeezes your hand before sliding out and giving Benny a pat on the shoulder on the way by.

“Good luck hermano” he calls over his shoulder. You wait for a beat before turning to Benny gearing yourself up for a fight.

“Are you fucking serious right now. Or is this all an elaborate game that you and the boys have cooked up Huh?” you hiss.

“You really think I’m that cruel?” he fires back.

“I don’t know! Ever since I met you, you’ve made my life a living hell Benny! So why wouldn’t this not be the next step in the ’ terrorise Tink’ grande scheme?” The remark clearly hits him hard as he whirls round to finally face you.

“You really have no clue do you.”

“What the hell are you talking about Miller?”

Benny scoffs bitterly and takes a deep breath.

“I don’t hate you Tink! I never have. I’m so far gone on you that Will threatens daily to kill me if I don’t shut up about you. Ask him or any of the guys for that matter”. There’s a look of pleading on his face as though begging you to believe what he is saying that leaves you completely floored. Without waiting for a response he barrels on, the dam broken, clearly needing to get everything off his chest at last.

“Do you realise how intimidating it is to talk to you?. You’re amazing and so fucking beautiful Tink that I feel like I can’t breathe every time i look at you. You are hella smart and watching you work on the job blows my mind every time. And that mouth you have on you, no one else ever calls me out on my shit like you. I know I have a sense of humour that people don’t always get. I know I can be a complete asshole and I don’t really have much going in my favour but  I’m not a bad man Tink I swear. I’ve been sweet on you since the day I met you. For some reason though you just seemed to dislike me from the start so it was easier to play up on being an asshole. It hurt less that way.” He trails off.

What. The. Fuck.

You stare at him. Dumbfounded. You’d been wrong the whole time?

“I remember most of last night Tink. We had been drinking and betting at one of the craps tables. You were on a winning streak and kept saying if you rolled a hard 8 you would do this and that. You were having the time of your life Tink. I’ve never seen you look so free. So Happy. Any time you’re around me, you’re always so closed off. And it kills me. But you were looking at me different last night. And i was so caught up in the game I bet if you rolled a hard 8 one more time that we should get married. And you took me up on that offer. I’ve never felt so fucking happy in my life. I know it was a stupid idea and that we were drunk, but you finally chose me and if anything happened to me after that I could die a happy man.”

He gently brings both his hands up to cup your face and leans in close, not enough for your lips to touch but close enough for him to whisper to you.

“I know this whole Vegas thing has been crazy and I’m not asking you to stay married to me. That would be unreasonable. All I’m asking is that you choose me again. That you give me a chance to show you how much I care about you. Please”

You stare into his eyes for a second, looking for a hint of deception. Finding none, you make your decision. You close the gap between you and feel Benny sigh in relief into the kiss.

I  guess there’s a fine line between love and hate.

[lailannajacobs]

An Unexpected Fight and a Fated Death | Counterfeit Criminals pt. 7

Pairing: loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: An unexpected fight comes to you, hitting harder than either of you realized. 

Warnings: Lil bit of violence/blood and some angst 

Word Count: 3.6k 

A/N: So far this has been my favourite chapter to write, I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do! I always love to hear your thoughts! <3 

Counterfeit Criminals | Part Seven

The ringing in yours ears was deafening, and you slowly blinked the world back into focus. Everything spun as your tried to lift your head, the landscape blurring. Something grabbed your arm and you shrieked, scrambling to get away.

“You need to get up, Midgardian. Now.”

The words were barely more than a whisper, but you had a feeling he was shouting at you. Stumbling you somehow managed to find your footing, leaning on Loki to keep you upright. He practically ripped your arm out of its socket as he yanked you out of the way of another series of shots. You winced in pain, stumbling along with him. Your senses were coming back too slowly, and you couldn’t risk letting go of his hand. You swore.

Another blast nearly threw you off your feet and Loki lifted you upright without missing a beat. Before you knew what was happening, he pulled you into a tight alcove within the wall of rock, pressing your bodies in. The space was crammed, your chests were almost flush up against the other with barely enough space to tilt your head back. Another shot sent dust flying into the alcove. You ducked your head, coughing as you tried not to breath in the debris. For a moment, nothing happened.

“What the hell, Prince?” You growled.

He opened his mouth to answer but flinched away from the splay of rocks ricocheting from a nearby shot.

“Loki!” You yelled, “Why are we getting shot at?”

He turned so fast you barely saw him move. He shoved you against the back wall, shielding your body with his as the shoot exploded beside you, the sound deafening. His face was inches from yours, his hair forming a curtain, closing you off from the pain of the world around. You tilted your head back to look him in the eyes. They were bright green, dancing with far more amusement that you thought appropriate.

“What did you do?” You glared, your breath brushing aside a dark strand of hair.

He inched closer, his nose practically touching yours, “I may have angered some people.”

“You think?” You scoffed.

You shoved him back and tried to step past him, but he grabbed your arm.

“What are you doing, Midgardian?” His voice had lost some of its amusement, though none of its cocky edge.

“Fixing this mess,”

He raised a brow, “It’s not safe out there.”

“And who’s fault is that?” You pulled a gun from your waistband and shrugged him off you.

Firing a few shots around the corner, your retaliation provided enough cover for you to sprint across the valley to the nearby boulders. Shots whizzed past as you dove behind the boulders, the rocky terrain tearing at your palms. You scrambled to a crouch and checked the cabin of your gun, realizing you were going to have to make do with the five rounds and the daggers you kept in your boots. You’d chosen to wear protective gear before you’d left the ship because of Loki’s cryptic comments and you were damn glad you had. From what you’d seen, there were five of them, which meant that, unless they had backup, there was no room to miss. You swore as another shot blasted into the boulder, missing you by inches. You looked up to where Loki stood in the alcove, an unreadable expression on his face.

You flipped him the bird knowing he understood exactly what it meant.

A deep breath in and out calmed the adrenaline enough so that you were able to form somewhat of a plan. You grabbed a rock and threw it into the clearing. Shots echoed off the valley walls and the moment the firing stopped, you peeked your head over the boulder and fired at the first man you saw. You ducked before you could get a good look at what you’d hit, but you were pretty sure he was down.

You popped back up and find another two shots, one of their bullets singeing your ear as it whistled past. Ignoring the pain, you watched another man go down and slid back to a crouch. You’d missed the other one. Lifting your fingers to your ears, you swore as you came back with blood on your hand.

Before you could decide what to do next, you were jumped from the side, your gun skittering across the ground. You grit your teeth, wrestling with the man to get the upper hand. He knocked the breath out of you with a blow to the stomach, but you managed to stay standing long enough whip the dagger from your boot. Moving on instinct, you blocked and parried until you buried the dagger in his thigh, his cry of pain deafening. He doubled over and you kneed him in the face, the crunch of his broken nose a relief as he crumpled to the ground.

Panting, you whipped around, knowing you weren’t done.

An image of yourself striding across the clearing gave you enough cover to approach from the far end where the fog was thick and low. You caught the last man by surprise, but he was stronger and faster than the last one. He threw you to the ground and you scrambled to your feet as another punch sent you back down again. His dagger came down with blinding speed, but you rolled to the side just in time to see the metal embedded in the rock beside you. You kicked his legs out from under him, and rolled on top of him, your legs tightening in a chokehold until he passed out.

You shoved him off you with shaky legs, breathing hard as you pushed yourself up to a stand. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you searched the body for any hint of who they were or why they were here. There was no way you’d get a straight answer from the Prince, so you needed to find it yourself. You didn’t recognize the race of the attackers and there wasn’t a shred of evidence anywhere on him.

You placed your hands on your hips, taking a moment to breath now that the fight was over. Then you heart dropped in your chest, fear spiking through your body.

Four men. Four men had gone down.

You had counted five. Where the hell was the last one?

You ran through the fog, eyes straining to find the last man or Loki. Skidding a stop and the edge of the clearing, your head whipped around as if it was on a swivel, desperately trying to find either one of them. Then you spotted him.

Loki strolled out of the alcove, hands stuffed into his pockets, his eyes darting around as he looked for you. Fear exploded in your chest and you almost screamed at him to move but caught yourself at the last second. Yelling would only compromise both your positions.

You searched the fog, the backs of your eyes burning from focusing so hard. Maybe you’d counted wrong.

But you hadn’t. You spotted him too late, watching as he fired so close to Loki that even his god-like speed couldn’t stop the bullet aiming for his heart. You were frozen in place, trying to scream but nothing came out. The impact knocked him to the ground, a horrifying thud echoing off the rock walls.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, at the first sight of the blood pooling around his body, everything came back into razor-sharp focus and you flung your dagger at the man. It sunk clean into his hand and he stumbled back in surprise. Blinded by rage, you closed the remaining distance and knocked the man out before he even knew what had happened.

You gasped for breath, choking out sobs as you reached out for a nearby rock to keep yourself standing. You wrapped your other arm around your stomach, refusing to look back at his body, every breath harder than the last. You were too late. You were too late. You were too late. The words echoed over and over again until they were the only thing you could hear. You hugged yourself a little tighter. Eventually, your breathing slowed, and the words subsided.

The man groaned as you ripped the dagger from his hand, and you turned around slowly to face Loki. Your gut clenched all over again and for a second you thought you were going to throw up. And then the feeling was gone.

You rolled your shoulders back and tried to force all the tension from your body, strolling through the clearing to where the Prince’s body lay sprawled on the ground.  Blood pooled beneath his chest where the shot had gone straight through his heart. His eyes were open, unblinking and unseeing, and his skin had already taken on a blueish hue.

It wasn’t real, you promised yourself, the naive hope keeping the gut-wrenching sickness at bay. It wasn’t real. This isn’t real.

“If you ask me, this is all a little too theatrical for my taste, and quite frankly, a little unnecessary, but I will admit that it wasn’t entirely useless,” You nudged him with your toe, horrified by the solidity, holding your breath as you waited - hoped - for it to shimmer away. When that familiar green light surrounded the body until there wasn’t nothing but purple dirt under your foot, you started breathing again, filled with relief you couldn’t show him, “I mean, this way I did get the last guy and now that I’ve guessed your illusion, I can get my dagger back. Our little deal still stands, right Prince?”

“All this and you didn’t shed a single tear,” His voice drawled from behind you, “Should I be insulted?”

Even though your theory had been confirmed by the shattered illusion, seeing him standing behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets, head tilted to the side with that infuriating sly grin on his lips, made your knees weak. You almost ran to him, either to stab him or to wrap your arms around him you weren’t sure yet, but you forced yourself to stay still and impassive.

“Maybe you should be flattered,” You shrugged.

His head titled a little further as he inspected you, “How so?”

You shrugged again, not sure what else to do with yourself, “You taught me well enough to know it was an illusion.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up a little higher. The several feet between you suddenly felt like miles as you stared at each other saying nothing. Every inch of you felt drawn to him and your muscles itched to move, as if standing still was a million times harder than taking the few steps to close the distance between you. Those bright green eyes were all you could see, and he looked at you as if you were the only thing on Morag.

Then he took a step forward. Your feet reacted before your brain could until you were standing a foot away from each other, your gazes locked tight.

He opened his mouth to speak but before you realized what you were doing, you slapped him across the cheek as hard as you could, watching as he barely registered the hit. Instead, that roguish grin spread across his lips.

“I should have shot you myself instead,” You whispered, “You…You almost got us killed.”

“But I didn’t,” He leaned in a little closer and continued in a conspiring whisper, “And you took care of those inconveniences quite brilliantly I must add.”

You almost slapped him again at the words ‘inconvenience’ but you kept it together, answering coolly, “And you only faked your death.”

“I’m glad we know our roles,” He chuckled, as if he found this whole thing particularly amusing, “And you can’t blame me for using illusions. They work every time.”  

“You’re infuriating,” You ground out.

“I’m-” Whatever he had been about to say died on his lips and his hand immediately went to your arm, “You’re hurt.”

Your hand fluttered up to your ear, “Yeah, it’s nothing. It’s just a scratch.”

“No,” He shook his head, brows drawn over worried eyes, “Your arm.”

Confused, you glanced down at your arm held gently in his hand. A long gash had cut through your protective gear, blood still leaking out. By pointing it out, the adrenaline disappeared, leaving you with nothing but the pain, and you almost collapsed. The only reason you didn’t was because he held you upright.

“Sit,” He pulled you along to a small boulder.

“Loki, I’m fine,” You protested, trying to ignore the tingling sensation in your hand, “It’s just a scratch.

Your other protests died at the glare he shot your way. It wasn’t every day you were on the receiving end of that look, and it was enough to keep your mouth shut. He sat you down and crouched in front of you so that you were now at the same height.

“Take off your shirt,” He ordered.

You glared at him, “Not when you say it like that I don’t.”

“I won’t be able to clean the cut, and we need to,” He snarled, “If you don’t take it off, I will.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, not caring that the motion made you want to cry out. His wince was enough for you to know that he was aware of how much it pained you to do it.

“You will not do anything like that unless I say so,” You growled back, “Ever. I don’t care who you think you are, Prince. Ask nicely or I’m walking the rest of the way to the ship by myself and leaving you here to rot.”

He closed his eyes, taking longer than you thought he’d have to to steady his breathing, “May you please take off your shirt so that I may clean your wound, Midgardian?”

You grinned, “Yes, Prince. I may.”

You moved to take off your sweater and immediately realized that crossing your arms had only drained what little energy you had left. Lifting your arm above your head to slip out of the stiff, protective sweater was going to be impossible. You sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, hating what you were about to do.

“Prince?”

“Hmm?” His eyes lifted to meet yours.

You forced yourself to say the words, “Help me out of my shirt?”

His lips spears into a slow grin that sent shivers down your spine. You weren’t sure if you wanted to stab him or close the distance between you two. Both were equally appealing.

“When you ask so kindly, how can I say no?” He said, eyes bright.

You rolled your eyes, “Just get it over with.”

“Midgardian,” He purred, “You’ll need to let go of that dagger first,”

You realized you were still holding the dagger and had it pointed in his direction. He eyed it warily as if he didn’t trust the idea that you weren’t about to stab him with it.

The thought was comforting.

You tried to muster the energy to put it on the rock beside you, but the dagger clattered onto the ground. Loki inspected your face even further, eyes searching as if he had a feeling he’d missed something the first time around. The look was so raw and captivating that you forgot about the pain for a moment, leaning forward slowly. He did the same until the distance between so you so small that it felt electrically charged. It would be so easy to close the distance and got lost in his comfort. But it was never that easy.

“I swear,” You warned, somehow remembering yourself and pulling back, “If you try any of that telepathy voodoo on me right now…”

With an arm out of commission and your energy level at an all time low, there was no way he didn’t know that your threats were empty, but if felt good to say the words anyways.

He narrowed his eyes, “I won’t have to if you tell me everything that’s wrong.”

“Can we just get this done and over with?” You muttered, looking past his shoulder to avoid eye contact, “I don’t have the dagger anymore if that’s what you’re worried about.”

With a sigh, he shook his head and mumbled, “That’s not what I’m worried about, Midgardian.”

His hand slid down your arm to your torso, fingers curling around the hem of your sweater. Pausing, he looked up at you for confirmation before easing the material upward. The movement was slow, almost delicate as he paused before and after movements that had you sucking in sharp breaths of pain. He pulled the sweater over your head ever so slowly, the material tickling your cheek as it brushed past. Teeth clamped tight, you focused on those green eyes as he pulled the sweater from your arm. When it was off, he gently placed your arm down at your side and you let out a shaky breath.

“I would have cut it off if you had something else to wear,” He whispered, eyes brushing over your sports bra and bare skin.

If it had been anyone else, you would have described the look on his face as sheepish, but this was the Prince, and you knew you had to be imagining things.

“Are you afraid I’m going to catch a cold?” You snorted, trying to hide how exposed you suddenly felt.

He rolled his eyes, “Forgive me. It is hard to remember exactly how fragile you Midgardians are.”

The Prince materialized medical supplies and began cleaning out the gash on your arm, working gently and methodically. He stopped when you hissed in pain, your nails digging into his arm to try and stop from passing out. Only when your grip loosened did he keep working. You were lucky he kept any medical supplies with him at all…but nothing with the Prince was luck.

“Loki? What are you doing with basic medical supplied in your magical pocket or whatever you call it?” You asked in a small voice, focusing on the movement of his fingers wrapping the bandage around your arm, “I know you don’t need it for yourself.”

He didn’t say anything, which was enough of an answer. He didn’t need the supplies, but you did. You had no idea when he had stashed it or how exactly his magical abilities worked, but he had done so on the off chance you got hurt. Or maybe it wasn’t an off chance. Maybe this wasn’t him showing that he cared, but rather a glimpse into another dangerous scheme of his that would most likely result in you getting hurt in the crossfire. And now that you thought about it, that was exactly what happened. Whatever it was he needed you for, he couldn’t have you die on him before he accomplished it. But you wouldn’t be blindsided again. This time you, you were going to figure out what exactly he was planning.

As if sensing your anger, he spoke up, “I couldn’t have the captain of my ride dying before she returned me to Asgard. It pays to be prepared.”

You shot him an unimpressed look, “Not pissing people off also pays off.”

“Like you would know,” He smirked, “Midgardian, know that I speak with all honesty in my heart when I say that you are wanted on more planets than I.”

Against your will, a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, “All the same planets?”

“Unfortunately not,” He replied, that sly grin falling away into one a little more natural - more familiar.

You chuckled, “I doubt there’s a place in the universe that’s safe for both of us.”

“Your ship is welcoming,” He mentioned, lifting your arm gently and helping you back into your sweater.

You poked your head out and swatted his hand away so you could do the rest yourself, “We’d better find that missing piece and get back there before more of those people come after you, and by association, me.”

He nodded to the side, directing your attention to a black mass a few feet away, “It seems our little fight may have led us to it.”

“That doesn’t let you off the hook for your idiocy,” You pointed out before he could take credit for finding it, “And then you’re going to explain to me what the hell you did to piss them off so much.”

He stood and slipped an arm around your waist, helping you to do the same, “Can you walk?”

“Of course I can,” You scoffed, stepping away from him despite it being the last thing you wanted to do, “I cut my arm, not lost a leg.”

His hand lingered on your waist even though you were standing steady, "I'm certain you would have walked back even if you had.”

You grinned, “Damn straight I would have.”

“Midgardian,” You had no idea how to read his expression; the slight quirk of his lips at odds with the seriousness in his eyes, “You would have wreaked havoc if you had been Asgardian instead of mortal.”

“I would have been quite a match for you,” You replied, comforted - and honestly a little flatted - by the thought.

You turned back to head to the ship knowing he would take care of the piece. You were already a few steps away when you through you heard something like “You already are,” but dismissed it quickly as a trick of the wind.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“triad”

 Chapter 21: the futile purpose

Warning: Major character death, major depictions of violence, manga spoilers

AO3 LINK

Four minutes remain before the end

This is it… almost there…

Zenon’s mouth was open slightly as he drew breath after breath, his heart pounding after the high-stakes fight that had only  just begun. He had hoped the sneak attack would knock me down at least, but there I was again, standing up and as straight as I could with a bone lodged in my stomach. But he had learned valuable information from the strike. She can heal herself, almost instantly, with time magic. She’s only able to do that because she’s shedding it constantly. Perfect… His fight or flight instinct was going crazy as I took a step forward. Even if we kill her now, there’s still the other Magic Knights to take care of. They won’t stop attacking until it’s too late and the Tree has been completed. But if we keep her alive, just a little longer…

No such strategic thoughts were running through Dante’s head. His vision was red as he looked at me, gearing himself up to go in for the kill. You’ve humiliated the great Dante enough- you’ll pay with your life!

No, wait.

Dante froze as Lucifero finally spoke for the first time since the battle started. The devil had been oddly silent, even though his presence within Dante increased to 100%. 

Don’t kill her… not yet. She can be of use to us. 

Dante’s eyes widened a little as understanding dawned on him. He glanced over between his siblings, wondering if they were working off of the same idea.

We can do that? Then…

When I emerge… Lucifero’s voice took on a biting, bitter tone. I’ll remove that menace myself.

Menace?

…

Lucifero… just how much do you know about her?

Lucifero did not answer again. Through Dante’s eyes, his own gaze was fixed on me, on the mark emblazoned on my forehead, a deep, black color. Forbidden magic… what did she do to herself? She can’t be possessed by them… but it’s clear now. Simulcia’s will is being carried on through her descendents. 

…

All four of the people present are thinking the same thing: I have to win. 

I take another step towards them, gritting my teeth as the weight of the bone starts to impede my motion. Shit… I can’t fight like this- My hand grasps its diameter, and I start to release fire, burning the material away. I can heal myself better when it’s gone and-

Zenon raises his hand before I can finish.

“Bone magic: Eternal Fangs, 100%”

Before I can even move, even more bones appear from his body, shooting out at me with amplified speed. All I can do is back up as fast as I can. Shit shit! Jump- JUMP- My foot braces against the ground, ready to spring away out of range, but it’s too late. A hollow scream is ripped from my chest as more bones than I can keep track of pierce my body like a pincushion. Pain explodes in every part; in a way, it’s refreshing, something that no one recently has been able to coax from my body. But now, it’s everywhere, immobilizing me like some doll suspended from strings.

My vision goes white, metallic taste in my mouth. Zenon’s power- he’s pulling out all the stops. I try to swallow, but I just gargle. They’re really getting serious, did I fuck up? In any case, I gotta get down, before-

Right in the middle of that thought, the bones shift, lifting me up. Oh god oh god- I crack open an eye as the world spins. Suddenly, I slip right off the bones, ripped by a jolting motion. The momentum sends me flying, as if Zenon were just flicking a pesky mosquito off of his ear. I don’t have time to be afraid before I hit a wall, crashing right through it from the force. My vision blurs again, and I finally scream, more out of confusion than terror. I hit another wall, finally coming to a violent stop. 

Zenon lets out a breath, his eyes not leaving the place that I disappeared into. “Vanica, Dante-”

“Got it.” At once, the two others rushed forward. Dante smirked, using his body magic to reinforce his arms for the beating that was to come. “All we have to do is knock her into that room.”

“Right, once we do that, we’ve won.” Vanica giggled in anticipation. “I might even have time to fight Noelle after this~”

Come on- Get up!

I feel time magic start to circle around my body, automatically like it always does. But it hurts this time, as it forces bones and flesh back into their places. Fragments of stone and bone are dragged along with it, and my jaw clenches tight to stay quiet. But it’s brief, and I feel my strength return. Good! I start to sit up, my hand gripping my Grimoire like a vice. Now, I just have to anticipate them better-

There’s a BOOM, and none other than Dante is suddenly right in front of me. My eyes widen, seeing that his arms are reinforced and a bloodthirsty expression is on his face. “THERE YOU ARE!” he screeches, and before I can move out of the way, he blasts me with his bare fists, an unmerciful barrage that once again sends me flying. AH! How are they so fast all the sudden-

“MY TURN! MY TURN!”

Oh no. I turn my head just in time to see that Dante had tossed me right towards Vanica. Wait! Hold on-

Of course, she doesn’t “hold on,” and I soon find myself being punched again and again, slashed at by her bloody talons. Three points of my body light up with pain: my right shoulder, my left hip, and my right knee. “HAHAHA! Look at you, can’t you keep up anymore? What happened to all that power you had before?” She giggled, slashing me one last time. With a strangled cry, I get tossed away once again. I hit the ground, immediately rolling to a stop.

Vanica chuckles before landing before me, pointing at my pitiful form as I struggle to sit up. “See there? I got you with my curses!” 

Curses?! I look down at the places still pulsing with pain, and see that there are three similar marks glowing in the spots, dark blueish black spirals that float on my skin as if it were water. Uh oh, this isn’t good-

I start to clench my fist, summoning fire, but it’s slow. Vanica screeches with mirth before lunging at me again. “USELESS! Those are weakening curses! It’s going to take you a hot minute to charge up your magic now!” I look up just in time to see her Red Beast hurdling at me. “Just enough time for us to BEAT YOU!”

It hits me, and I’m once again blasted away.

… how… what’s wrong with me-

Her curse makes it hard to even move once I roll to a stop.

Just a minute ago, I was on top of the world-

Dante appears again to beat me, then back to Vanica, then back to him, then her, then him again-

W-What’s going on-

I manage to land on my feet once, but ten bones sail towards me like spears to send me crumpling back to the floor.

Where are they-

BAM. Dante’s fist hits me in the stomach, and I black out for a whole two seconds.

They’re moving differently now… they’re cooperating. It’s like… they have a strategy?

The world fades back in as I crash through another wall. Everything is spinning, and there’s nothing but the taste of blood in my mouth. 

They have a plan… but what is it-

Three Minutes remain before the end

The air suddenly becomes quiet, eerily so. The silence is cold, and is only broken by a low, creaking vibration that’s more felt than heard. I blink, slowly coming back to awareness, wood against my back. The curses continue to sap away at my energy, and it takes all the strength I have to sit up. Where are they? Am I about to get hit again?

Everything hurts. Blood soaks half of my face, bubbling out from a severe wound above my hairline. One of my eyes is covered with the stuff, and when I blink, it stings. 

Somehow, the attacks have stopped. Letting out a deep breath, I take the brief moment of respite to reach up and wipe my face. My right arm hangs uselessly at my side, skewered completely through by a bone. My own bones are shattered, obliterated by the brutal volley of attacks I was just put through. 

Ow… ow…

My vision starts to clear once again. Something is writhing silently around me, dark shades of grey and brown. What on Earth? Is this-

It all hits me at once, the realization of where they corralled me: I’m sitting in the chamber of the Tree of Qliphoth, and am sitting on one of its branches. I crane my neck to see its many twining branches growing up and up, out of sight. Oh god… was this their plan? At the moment, I can’t feel it damaging me or anything like that, so I’m not sure what the aim of this is. Maybe it was an accident? Slowly, I look back down to see that the chamber goes farther down than I could have imagined. It’s hard to see, but there’s a large symbol on the ground below where the Tree grows from, and I feel like there are people down there. 

“There you are. Good thing you didn’t fall.”

My gaze snaps up at the sound of that voice, and I see the Dark Triad standing on a branch above me, staring down at me with… apprehension? Something about their stances doesn’t make sense, but I don’t have time to think about it very deeply.

“Come on then. Get up.”

Zenon’s voice is cold, blank, merciless.

“This is where you will die, Wizard King. But we won’t do it until you show us the power you used before. That is the last gift we’ll give to you.” 

The bloodlust of six beings is focused right onto me.

“Heal yourself, and die a noble death along with the rest of the world.” 

…

Slowly, I reach up and grab the bone still stuck in my side. Runes start to circle around it, and I carefully tug on the bone to slide it out as the wound heals. The pain is nothing now; my mind is consumed with the task ahead of me.

I can’t lose.

That much is clear. Whatever they have planned, I won’t let them go through with it.

Despite the bone still stuck in my leg, I stand up, my knees wobbling as they desperately try to prop me up for just a little longer. 

And if I die, I’m taking them all down with me!

But before that, there’s something else on my mind. If this is really the Tree of Qliphoth, then that means that William and Yami are somewhere nearby. At the very least, I have to save them, and stop this tree from growing any further. If I can do that, I’ve won.

“Are you sure you want me to heal?”

Particles of light start to circle my body, efficiently cleaning up the wounds left behind as I pull out bone after bone after bone. My right arm snaps back into place, and I flex it, from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. Time flares up around the curses, and in an instant, they are erased.

“It’ll be the last mistake you make.”

Blood thins, and disappears, bruises evaporate, and I feel my strength return. Right now, there’s nothing more I want to do than release my forbidden sealing spell and see what happens, but I know I won’t last long if I do. Right now, I need to live, and I need to win.

...

“Remember what I taught you.”

Wind blows around me, cooling the sweat on my brow with a pleasant chill. I pant lightly, my mouth open just a little, as I get ready for the next bout.

“If you can work on your precision, you can use this power to predict the very near future.”

The sun is so bright, I can’t see his face.

I’m never going to be strong enough to do that, though… right?

“Accelerate time around your body… use what you see to win.”

No… I am strong enough.

My power surges around me, time whirling at a breakneck pace as I prepare for what could very well be the last few moments of my life.

I am strong… and I am selfless. I am the Wizard King!! Maybe I’ve sinned, far more than one person should. I’ve stolen and murdered for this power. But it’s mine now! This path I’ve walked has brought me close to temptation, close to destruction, but… there’s so much more to this world than me and Julius. Yami, William, Marx, Adeline, Joy, Fuegoleon, Charlotte, Mereo, Noelle, Mimosa, Yuno, Asta- Everyone- 

Zenon, you’re right. I will die in this place. And I will die a noble death. I will die to defeat you!

And everyone I leave behind… I will leave their future up to them.

My body moves on its own, pushing forward just as it has always done. Flame, light, and time are swung from my fists as I pursue the enemy around the tree. Each of my steps hits heavy on the wood, warping it as it absorbs the blow. Zenon and the others fly ahead, staying just out of reach. Every now and then, one will turn and try to make a strike. But each time, I manage to dodge, either that or my wound is instantly healed. 

Yes… more… more power-

I don’t care that each wave of magic rips more and more of my life force away; it’ll be worth it.

If I can just catch up to them-

Suddenly, as I brace against the trunk in order to leap once again, the Tree swells underneath me, almost like a wave. It catches me off guard, and I push off and away from it, my heart pounding. What on earth was that supposed to be? I think, narrowing my eyes. The Dark Triad are suddenly nowhere to be seen. The fibers of the tree leak some sort of black substance that floats like smoke through the air. Swirling menacingly as the tree itself starts to radiate power. Is this a trap? Or-

It’s right then that I realize that the tree is… bigger. Significantly bigger. I’m almost up to the ceiling now, snow and wind pelting in from above. The twining branches are now thick, a lattice that almost blocks out the sky above. My eyes widen. Wait- how long were we fighting? My perception of time is completely off, the magic still warping it around me. How tall did the tree grow just now?!

Wait…

There’s a chill in the air. Everywhere around me, I sense dark, creepy magic, opening up from seemingly no where.

Gates? But- Wasn’t this supposed to take several days? What is going on-

Is… did the gate just open all the way!?

Somewhere in my stomach, a pit starts to form. I float there, totally still, as the impending wave of despair starts to grow on my shoulders.

Did… did my magic-

I completely dominated the mana in this chamber. My Time magic permeated every square inch of it, as I sped the passage of time up and up and up- The Dark Triad stuck close to the trunk of the tree as I pursued them… all the while, the Tree was absorbing time, more and more until-

My gaze drops, to the ground far below. There’s movement.

“When the gates are open… the two catalysts will be spent.”

I drop like a rock, zooming down to the bottom of the room, my heart starting to pound faster and faster. 

No… it can’t be. This is a mistake- 

Things start to come into focus. I see two heavy metal coffins, both with their doors open.

They didn’t trick me… they didn’t… this isn’t happening-

I land heavily, a few meters away. There’s another man nearby, but I ignore him and run straight for the coffins.

Yami… William… did you escape? You did, didn’t you! 

I run around once of the coffins and see that they are both empty.

You did! You’re out… now I just have to find-

I make the mistake of looking down.

…

…

…

Waves crested gently upon the beach as the sun started to set.

William holds a tiny hermit crab in his hand. His pants are rolled up to his knees to keep them from getting wet.

And years later… another sunset. Another smile.

“I think… another Golden Dawn awaits us both.”

Yami smiles at me, that last spark of hope that I needed to keep living.

“You’re my friend… and you’re the one Julius loved. So go.”

I feel his rough palm squeeze my shoulder before letting go.

“Go… and feel.”

…

…

Yami…

I drop to my knees.

William…

My hands are shaking, and I feel the last of my strength slip through my fingers.

All those years together… all those good times, all those bad times…

Why… why did they have to end like this?

There are two bodies on the ground. I can’t recognize either of them, but I know who they are.

…

...

“Go and feel.”

…

…

I am… I am feeling… now.

[vulturhythm]

1/2 Oh! Oh! What a lovely prompt and fill. The best part was the symbolism when you had Geralt kneel while he is shorn - the mage's hand fisted in his hair, jerking his head this way and that, Geralt's staring at Jaskier the whole time. To follow on this Anne Hathaway in Les Mis theme, I had a headcanon about the witcher ephemera trade that was almost exactly the same as this fine anon's (Jaskier's sick/need cash quick - this opens up so many angsty possibilities), except this time the item to

2/2 to sell is teeth - and due to the desperation of the situation Geralt of course does it, wielding the pliers himself, to two molars at the back, and he doesn't even tell Jaskier about it because it's done, why upset him while he's healing? Jaskier realizes weeks later when they're finally making out again and he's got his tongue down Geralt's throat, and of course he's heartbroken but Geralt assures him they'll grow back (I didn't decide whether or not this should be true, mind you).

Oh, love, I’m in just the right mood to make this painful today. I’m glad you enjoyed the last one! This got away from me a little... hope you don’t mind.

- - -

the wolf’s maw

"he’s in a bad state,” the mage is saying, looking over jaskier with the sort of indifference that makes geralt’s teeth ache. his bard is deserving of more. “had you waited much longer to bring him here, he would be dead.”

geralt knows that quite fucking well, goddammit - the cockatrice’s claws had all but flayed jaskier’s side, leaving him broken and bleeding out. even now, laying across the mage’s cot, he’s bleeding profusely through the shirt that geralt had torn and wrapped about his frame, hoping to staunch the worst of it.

“can you save him?” geralt says, gruff and terse. “i know he’s in a bad way, there’s no fucking need to remind me.”

the mage looks up at him then, giving him an appraising glance. “of course,” he says, “for the right price, anyway.”

geralt’s hand goes to his coin purse immediately, but the mage shakes his head, lifting a hand to stop him in his tracks. “not that sort of price,” he says. “you see, i deal in potions, droughts, spells... people come from miles around to buy my wares. quite the lucrative business, i’m sure you know, but my ingredients are running low.”

the witcher tenses then, giving the man a wary glance. “what beast would you have me kill?” he asks.

the mage’s laugh is sickening for a reason geralt cannot place. “no beast, butcher,” he says, and there, that’s it, that’s the name that makes geralt’s jaw clench, his chest tighten. “i know a lot about your kind. a single tooth from a witcher can sell for hundreds of thousands to the right buyer... do you realize how many fae i can pay to have slain for just one of your brutish little fangs? how many potions i can make as a result?”

geralt goes silent, staring at him with a mix of disbelief and fear. at last, he clears his throat, slowly dropping his hand from where it’s hovering at his belt. “you want my teeth,” he says, slow and doubting, “in exchange for your service.”

“right on,” says the mage, and his smile is far too bright as he looks to jaskier once more. “one fang will guarantee his immediate survival... two will ensure he does not drop dead from a stray curse the moment you walk out this door.”

blackmail.

geralt’s no stranger to it, but never before has jaskier’s life been at stake. if only they had the fucking time - the time for him to impale this bastard on a silver sword, the time to carry jaskier to the next healer...

but he knows without even looking to his bard that jaskier doesn’t have that sort of time.

he’s quiet, running his tongue along the length of one fang. witcher canines are elongated, sharpened at the tip - geralt’s are nearly too large to fit comfortably in his mouth when he’s downed a potion and the world is in sharp relief, when he’s oversensitive to even the brush of the wind against his feverish skin, but as he is now, they nestle snugly into the natural curvature of his lower teeth and jaw, just as natural to him as breathing.

his tongue smarts when he brushes it over the point, and geralt closes his eyes.

the pain of the extraction, the healing process, the strange looks - stranger than normal...

and yet, he knows that none of it will be as bad as the look of heartbreak and guilt on jaskier’s face when he awakens...

... but geralt would rather wound his songbird’s heart than sign his life away.

“i’ll give them both to you,” he says at last, closing his eyes, “but i’m the one who will take them out.”

“excellent!” cries the mage, clapping his hands together in a mockery of joy. he turns for his desk, taking a pair of pliers from the drawer. geralt recognizes them - they’re the type he uses to pluck out wyvern fangs, the ones he cleans and polishes and brings to children in towns as gifts.

geralt snatches the pliers from the mage’s outstretched hand, resisting the urge to bare his fangs in a snarl while he still can and backing off, stopping only when he feels his back hit the wall. once more, his gaze strays to jaskier.

his bard is lying still, his face pallid with blood loss. geralt knows better than to think he’ll survive without the mage’s help.

he heaves a sigh, holding his lower jaw in place with his free hand as he fits the mouth of the pliers around one fang. geralt closes his eyes, breathes in deep,

he pulls.

blood explodes hot and bright on his tongue, and he gags with the taste and the pain and the shock, doubling over where he stands. he hears the fang drop, but doesn’t bother looking where, resisting the urge to press his fingers into the hole and staunch the bleeding now.

jaskier is suffering worse.

geralt’s world is still spinning when he fits the pliers around his other fang, but he braces himself against the pain regardless, even though he knows it’s virtually useless.

the second pull hurts ten times worse than the first, and geralt chokes on a snarl, gagging on the blood that runs back down his throat until he ducks his head to spit it out. he lets his fang drop to the floor once again, lets the pliers join them, too, when his grip goes slack.

as geralt lifts his head, he sees the mage approaching to pick up the bloodied teeth on the floor...

... and he sees jaskier’s cornflower blue eyes, struggling to focus but trained on him nonetheless.

geralt’s heart aches.