#always try to keep a calm and composed image even when he gets fucked over

[silli-illi]

Oh ls!wemmbu...

There was this one part in wemmbu's orbital cannon video where he went afk and squiddo was talking to 4C about disliking working with wemmbu and for the longest time i thought he heard this conversation because you know he included it in the video but my friend told me today that he didnt and it was kinda for foreshadowing or something like that which i understand that it makes the story really interesting, knowing the downfall would come. But I thought wemmbu knew he just didnt say anything and i felt so bad for him. He was just waiting for the inevitable betrayal but he cant do anything cause there would be no one to go to, no one else to rely on. And when squiddo did betray him he just seemed so calm like he knew it was coming. But my friend told me he actually didnt hear it? And he is just calm like that which i guess is kinda true but i dont know. I viewed it as such a sad period for him which honestly without the conversation it's still sad but doesnt hit as hard. If he did overhear it, he knew his teammate was betraying yet didnt do anything, had so many problems and setbacks when building the cannon, and in the end didnt even get to do it, gets betrayed and banned but still doesnt succeed the second time, gets found and killed then i think he also got playerbanned(???? i could be wrong but i remember spoke said something about that once). 4C brought this up on stream once and i keep thinking about it. None of the other members knew his story other than 4C (and squiddo but she doesnt view it the way 4c does). Everyone hated him, only 4C felt bad and revived him, twice but he just killed himself again.

ls!wemmbu in during abyss arc was like so sad man. I'd still like to think he did hear that convo. Makes his story sadder hihi😈

[abiiors]

lingerie shopping with ross.

i lied. you do get one blurb tonight.

a while ago after i posted the cherry snippet, someone asked me if we’re getting reader’s pov. and no, it’s not there in the actual fic but i’ve decided i could do blurbs in that au from reader’s pov so here you go. 

minors dni!! age gap, public sex, fingering, the use of "good girl", corruption kink. very nasty behaviour honestly.

you are surrounded by mirrors. big, floor-to-ceiling things that reflect a million images of you everywhere you look. it would be disorienting and a bit dizzying if it weren’t for ross’ hand on the small of your back. 

it’s not like it’s your first time at a lingerie shop. by the looks of it, it isn’t his first time either. ross looks calm and composed, not at all bothered by the million mirrors or mannequins with some of the most revealing, yet fancy pieces you’ve ever seen. you’re sure they come with an equally fancy price tag. 

this is not your regular ann summers or victoria’s secret after all. this is, apparently, special. 

a tendril of jealousy unfurls in you at the thought of ross knowing this place, of being here before, without you. that would just make you one in a long line of girls who did not last. 

a store employee greets you warmly and you toss the thoughts away. 

“so what are we looking for today?” she asks, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness even when her eyebrows rise a little, an obvious judgment of the age gap. but it’s none of her business and you can’t fault her for a reflex. 

“something red,” ross answers then looks down at you, assessing. “cherry red.”

“right this way,” she cheerily gestures for you to follow and you take a hold of ross’ hand. 

—

despite the feeling of shyness snaking through you, you have to admit—the set you’re currently trying on is utterly sexy and drop-dead gorgeous. it makes you look like a model out of a catalogue. 

a tiny red thing that fits you like a glove and accentuates every curve it should. ross is going to lose his mind. and you are going to encourage it. 

you open the curtain, only peeking your head out while keeping the rest of your body hidden. “ross! a little help?” you look at him with a tiny pout, one you know he can’t refuse. 

as expected, he quirks up a brow, walking towards you with purpose and once again closing the curtains behind him. the second his eyes land on you, ross comes to a stop. he gawks shamelessly, eyes darkening with lust, roaming every inch of your barely covered body. 

“do you like it?” you ask, boldly taking a step towards him. your chests touch, you hand only an inch away from his crotch. but the thought of being in public stops you in your tracks.

“i love it,” he murmurs, already bending down to place a kiss on your neck, trailing it down to your extremely deep cleavage. his hands grip your waist, backing you against the giant mirror, effectively trapping you between it and his body. 

“ross…” you try to protest. unsurprisingly, it comes out more like a moan. something to do with the way his fingers trail down your back, gripping your ass, the other hand moving to swipe between your legs. 

as always one swipe of his fingers is enough to light a fire within you. a brush of his bulge and you’re ready to risk it all. but… 

“we’re in public,” you try to keep your volume down, straining against the heartbeat pounding in your ears to listen for any footsteps. “the room isn’t—fuck… isn’t soundproof.”

it’s like none of it matters to him. his mouth is already latched onto your skin, kissing and leaving bruises and marks all over your cleavage. 

“you’ll just have to stay quiet then, won’t you?” he challenges, rubbing your clit over the lace panties. 

you nod, trying to hold the moans in, the whimpers and the gasps, as his fingers move expertly, sliding the fabric aside and swiping through your folds. his fingers move over your clit in fast and sure movements—something quick, something that has your legs trembling before he’s even plunged them inside you. 

you try to bury your face in his chest, muffling the sounds into his shirt. a loud moan slips out of you anyway. cut out abruptly, when ross shoves two fingers in your mouth, making you gag and choke around them. 

he tuts. “baby, what did i just say?” 

“i can stay quiet,” you whimper, protesting the way his fingers freeze in place. “d–don’t stop. please.”

tears of frustration gather at your lashline and ross smirks arrogantly. 

he clicks his tongue, moving his fingers away entirely to hook them in the waistband of the underwear amd slide it down your thighs. you let him, desperately clenching around nothing, greedily hoping for his fingers. 

“can you?” he asks nonchalantly, picking up the red thong. “so eager for me,” he chuckles when you nod vigorously. 

“open your mouth for me,” he asks, commands more like it, using the same voice he uses on you in the bedroom when he tells you not to cum without permission. the thought alone has you getting wetter. 

“what—” you’re about to ask. instead you get cut off by ross stuffing the balled up red lace in your mouth. 

“gonna treat you like a brat if you want to act like one.” he cups your jaw, somehow hard and gentle at the same time. 

“now, baby, can you stay quiet for me?” his voice is laced with something dark, the promise of punishment should you disobey, but all you care about is getting your orgasm back. so you nod like a good girl.

your head lolls back in pleasure as soon as his fingers are back inside you, thrusting in and out of your clit with rough, choppy movements, the hilt of his palm slapping against your clit each time. the panties muffle your moans, making you drool simultaneously from the corners of your mouth. ross looks like he’s enjoying the sight thoroughly, fucking you dumb with just his fingers, watching you come closer and closer to the brink of insanity. 

you try to plead with your eyes. need to cum. please. 

“have you earned it yet, sweetheart?” it’s as if he’s read your mind. or maybe it’s the fact that you have to clutch onto his arm to stay upright, no longer able to trust your trembling legs. 

please, you want to yell out, been a good girl. but all that comes out are more muffled sounds, pathetic whines of desperation, the tears finally falling free. 

“go on then,” he says, “cum for me.” his voice is a hushed whisper, all around you, echoing inside you, pushing you over the edge. your head spins from the force of the orgasm, gushing onto his hand until you give him everything, panting in his chest long after he’s moved his hands away. 

“they’re pretty,” ross pulls the makeshift gag out of your mouth, looking at it as if it’s the most interesting in the world. still holding you up against the mirror with one hand. still half naked and disheveled while he barely has a hair out of place. 

“will have to buy them now, won’t we? you look so pretty in them after all.” 

[belit0]

Killer - part 4 (TobiIzu)

izuna's torture does not end

part 3

The psychologist takes a sip of the coffee that was offered to him before starting with the questions, composed and free of anything that could prove some sort of guilt in the matter. He keeps his narrative the same from the beginning, always providing solid and irrefutable answers.

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHERE HE IS??!" Madara slams his fist on the table, tangible anger in his features and deep despair in his eyes. "YOU REALLY WANT ME TO BUY SOME BULLSHIT ABOUT HIM DECIDING TO RUN AWAY?! WITHOUT ANY KIND OF PLAN?! WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!"

He intimidates the witness with every legal weapon he can use inside the interrogation room, and if he has to put his job on the line to resolve this matter, he won't hesitate to do so. This is his brother we're talking about.

"Chief Uchiha, I think I've explained it to you a few times, haven't I? I showed you my CCTV footage, the irrefutable proof that demonstrates how your brother decided to flee. You must step out of your denial and-"

"FUCKING LIES!" He grabs the psychologist by the collar of his shirt and lifts him out of his seat, but it's Shisui who stops his hand before Madara hits him. The unit head doesn't move his gaze from the man he holds, teeth exposed in an angry grimace as if he were an animal about to devour him.

"Uncle, that's enough! Let me deal with this!" The younger Uchiha exclaims, knowing that not having his superior involved in the matter is impossible, yet it doesn't help at all either. Izuna disappeared after the first session he had with Hashirama, giving no explanation or warning, not allowing them to find him.

If he genuinely left of his own free will as the psychologist describes, it makes sense not to be able to track him down. If there is something else behind all this, then this guy has a macabre mind that is hard to break.

Either way, they won't be able to figure anything out with their boss trying to beat him to death.

Madara lets go, dropping him back into the chair, and walks over to the one-way mirror with one hand on his forehead. His hair is tied back and his shirt is rolled up above each elbow, his impeccable, unblemished image disheveled, denoting stress.

"Sir... I hope you can excuse the chief's boldness, and also understand how hard and personal this is for us. Izuna's behavior has been erratic, but never to this level." Shisui calms the waters by licking his boots, trying to keep the witness from shutting down and providing information. Hashirama was the last person to see him, and who spoke with him for half an hour before Izuna vanished into thin air.

"Detective, I have given you all the resources at my disposal. My surveillance system doesn't lie, I don't have the knowledge to tamper with it. I may allow you to search my home but-"

"Of course we'll fucking do that." Madara replies while turning around, and when it seems like he wants to approach again and intimidate the psychologist, Shisui stares into the one-way mirror, making the signal he agreed with Obito prior to the interrogation to get him out of the room.

He is the boss, no one can tell him what to do, but they appeal to the rational part of his mind, the one that understands he is causing more harm than good in this situation. When Obito opens the door nothing needs to be said, and Madara himself understands he must leave, if only for a few minutes, to calm down.

"Thank you very much, detective. I do fear for my life in the face of that man's rudeness, so much unprofessionalism! I can offer him a free session if that could help..." Hashirama settles back into the chair, adopting an even more relaxed posture once the boss is out. He sips his coffee again whilst crossing his legs, one arm draped over the back of his chair as if he were at home.

"There'll be no need for that, he'll be fine once we find Izuna." A new detective replaces the chief's place, Obito stepping into the room, adjusting his coat. His face is expressionless, and the psychologist becomes uneasy at his presence.

"Let's review the events agian, gentleman." Both policemen open file folders on the table, the security camera images displayed in front of Hashirama. They show Izuna leaving his house in a normal manner, only to then start running.

It doesn't make sense.

"According to your security system, Izuna arrived at his session at about 8:30 pm. At 9 pm, half an hour before his appointment was scheduled to end, we see him leaving in a hurry. Do you affirm he did not mention anything about running away? He gave no indication of what he planned to do? He didn't say where he was going? Why did he leave early?" It is Obito who asks the questions, while Shisui takes care of watching him, looking for any gesture out of the ordinary.

They have worked on multiple cases together, discovering a successful strategy for finding the truth. Bad cop/good cop is a distant memory when it comes to this duo getting to the bottom of a crime.

Hashirama rearranges his position again, and this indicates a certain discomfort. He seemed to be on his game when Madara was firing aggressions at him, ready to answer any violent impulse, but he looks unarmed to deal with two composed individuals, like he wouldn't know how to turn the tables in his favor.

"I mean, that's a rational response your colleague had, he's been through terrible things, and qthere are no instructions on how to deal with that kind of trauma. Can you blame him? Because I don't-"

"You're not answering my question, gentleman. Did he say where he was going? Did he offer any clues that you can give us?" Obito presses again, finding flaws in the psychologist's facade.

"He was vague with his explanations and very closed towards talking, I couldn't confirm anything specific because-"

"Are you involved in this, sir?"

"Excuse me?

"Do you have anything to do with Izuna Uchiha's disappearance?"

It is the patience of both detectives that throws the psychologist off, the lack of pushy demands and unfounded accusations. Discovering what buttons to push and how to pick apart what appeared to be a faultless narrative, exposing inconsistencies in the whole situation.

The man is backed into a corner, failing to continue his speech in the same way he did in the beginning.

He speaks quickly and without pause, nervous for the first time since he arrived. "You know what, I came here with the best predisposition, I gave evidence that I should not have given without a judge's order, I lent myself to help you, and you accuse me of such an atrocity! If I am not arrested on any charge, I will proceed to retire, since how you behave, fellow detectives, is an aberration!" Hashirama stands up and arranges his clothes, tacitly asking for the door to be opened.

They can't hold him, there is no explicit evidence that would allow them to apprehend him or keep him there, unable to do anything as he storms out of the room in a rage. For Obito it is a defeat, but for Shisui is confusing, having discovered inconsistencies in the man's gestures and his story.

They both meet with the chief, who ended up observing the whole interaction from the other side of the mirror, "we have to find a way to get into his house," is all he says, without moving his eyes from the chair the psychologist occupied during the interrogation.

"We push too hard, there's no way he's going to let us in without a search warrant."

"And it's not like we can get one either, there's no grounds to pursue this man after the footage he provided."

"Uncle... what if Izuna really-"

"Don't you dare mention something like that, he would never do such a thing."

"Shisui may be right, uncle. There was clothing missing from his house, personal items, maybe he really did leave."

"He knew I had to pick him up, that I would be there at 9:30 to take him home, he wouldn't have left without me, without telling me. We don't work that way, he and I understand each other better than anyone else, he wouldn't have done this to me..."

"Uncle..." Obito begins, "We all know Izuna wasn't the same after that night, maybe he changed about you too-" A large hand closes over his neck, and Madara's eyes glare at him with hatred.

"Didn't I tell you not to mention something like that?”

"The phone analysis will be ready tomorrow. Once we have that information, we can decide whether to fight each other or not." Again, Shisui is the voice of reason and gets him to let go of his cousin before a brawl breaks out between the family. The state Madara finds himself in is like walking on eggshells, impossible to navigate without being deathly cautious of what one says.

...

His eyes feel heavy, as though he cannot open them, unable to see. He makes a terrible effort to focus his vision around him, darkness giving way to colors.

Where is he? What happened?

He feels sheets around him, a pillow under his head, his senses slowly awaken and discovering different sensations. He doesn't remember anything, but assumes he had a wonderful night if this is the condition he finds himself in in the morning. His mouth is dry, not being able toclose it, and when he manages to remember he actually has hands, brings them to his face to discover fabric.

What is this?

He blinks rapidly, trying to finally wake up his eyes, shake off the cloud of heaviness on his forehead, to get up and ignore the dizziness he feels in his head. Everything is blurry, weird, unfamiliar, and he slowly realizes he is not at home.

No, this is not his room.

"There he is, my sleeping beauty. Anija went a little overboard with the dosage, my apologies." A male voice speaks, and a shiver of involuntary terror runs through his drowsy body when aware of how familiar that sound is. He knows that tone, that ring, that person's darkness.

A choked moan of fright escapes him, and that is when he understands he is gagged.

He tries to move his legs, but two impossible-to-release shackles restrict his possibilities. The world gradually ends up appearing before his eyes, but he can't get rid of the discomfort he feels in his body and the dizziness in his head, unable to focus on anything, confused.

"Don't worry about those, if you behave, I'll eventually take them off."

He becomes aware of crying when his face burns from the salt of his tears, unable to acknowledge his body or understand what the fuck is going on. He doesn't have the strength to get up, use his hands, or run away from whatever is happening, but he knows he's in trouble.

"Now, now... Let me taste that pretty little mouth again, I've been fantasizing about it since last time."

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 5

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You find yourself in the middle of a predicament.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: SMUT as always, sort of public sex??? Unprotected sexy times, emotional damage lmao

A/N: Buckle up, babies!!! You’re in for a rollercoaster ride for this chapter ajckjasncjak I apologize in advance and please don’t hate me

AND BTW if you guys haven’t seen, I found the perfect playlist for this series lmao I saw the title and I was like HOLD UP this is perfect https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Eg5ZH6wMq4iocF5fWSesb?si=aff157a6198a4446

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Still awake, baby?

Fuck.

You screamed into your pillow upon reading Bucky’s text. It was quarter to midnight and you couldn’t sleep, especially not after Bucky told you that he wanted to make the relationship official.

It’d only been three months and you felt like he was moving too fast. And when he promised that he would find a way to snatch your heart the old-fashioned way? You wanted to explode because obviously, he already did.

But you weren’t going to say that to someone who already had a huge ego (and cock, too).

You composed yourself and typed in your reply, throwing your phone to your side after sending it.

Yeah. Why are you still up tho?

Not even a minute later and your phone began to ring. You sat up on your bed and squeezed your pillow, hating how Bucky had such an effect on you. Jesus, what are you, a high school student?!

You stared at his name on your screen before swiping and accepting the call.

“What’s up?” You answered as calmly as you could.

Bucky’s low chuckle sounded so fucking sexy that you had to bite your lower lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

“Still working. Can’t concentrate though, I keep remembering how you looked like with my cock in your mouth.”

You exhaled through your nose, “Jesus, you’re insatiable.” You said.

“Only for you, baby. You know that.” He said and your heart did a little somersault inside your chest.

“Don’t stay up too late, you have an early meeting tomorrow, right?” You asked, trying to change the topic because if you didn’t, you were sure how things would go.

Bucky let out another chuckle, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll just finish signing some papers and then I’m off to bed.”

You hummed and laid back down on the bed. It was completely silent but it wasn’t awkward. You heard the shuffling of paper on Bucky’s end, followed by the squeaking of a chair.

“You still there?” Bucky asked.

“Mhmm, you done?” You asked back.

“A few more papers left, baby. Can you wait ‘til I finish?”

There was something about talking to Bucky on the phone like this, so casual and so...mundane. It felt natural and comfortable, to think that this was the first phone conversation you had with him. He only sent you texts previously so this was new, but you had to admit, you loved it.

Bucky heard you yawning and let out a soft laugh. He sounded sleepy too when he spoke, “Almost done.” He reassured.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow.” He added.

“Yeah, okay. As long as it’s not in the same restaurant we went to after my promotion.” You groaned at the memory.

Bucky snorted, “We’re banned there, babe. Even if I wanted to go back there, they wouldn’t allow it.” He said.

“No shit, Sherlock. We got caught in their bathroom, of course they’ll ban us.” You huffed out.

“I was looking forward to dessert, you know.” You pouted.

“I got my dessert though.” You could hear Bucky’s smug smirk through the phone.

“Are you done?” Bucky whispered into your ear as he placed an arm on the back of the booth.

You shivered at his voice and nodded, grabbing your champagne and drinking it in one go.

“I promised you something, didn’t I? That I’ll give you something right before dessert? Meet me in the bathroom in five. Again, don’t be late.”

And with that, Bucky slid out of the booth and adjusted his suit before leaving for the bathroom. You clutched your heart and waved at the waiter who passed by, requesting for a refill and downing it before following Bucky.

You adjusted the black dress that Bucky bought you, you were surprised at how perfect the fit was. The lovely dress though, made you uncomfortable because of its length and the fact that Bucky still had your panties with him was making you feel even more conscious.

You were immediately pulled into the men’s bathroom as soon as you got there. Bucky tugged you into one of the cubicles and wasted no time to bend you over, lifting your skirt up to squeeze your ass.

“I knew I picked the right dress, you look good enough to eat.” Bucky grunted as he unbuckled his belt.

You moaned and pressed your palms against the door, pushing out your ass towards Bucky until you felt him line his tip up to your entrance. In one swift move, Bucky bottomed out and didn’t give you enough time to adjust.

It was fast and violent, the way Bucky fucked you inside that stall. Both of you were too caught up in the pleasure to even hear the commotion happening outside.

“Not gonna last long, Bucky...” you whimpered, feeling your legs tremble.

You’d been on edge the entire time, having been denied your orgasm earlier. And Bucky kept on squeezing your thigh teasingly during dinner, palm always inching higher until it settled close to your bare mound.

Of course, you wouldn’t last long!

“I know, baby.” Bucky said, sucking the skin on your exposed shoulder as he continued to fuck you from behind.

Once done with the sex escapade, the both of you were welcomed by the restaurant’s manager with a disapproving (and scarred) look on his face.

You blushed at the memory, “Let’s not do that again, please?” You said.

Bucky laughed, “Fine, fine. But dinner tomorrow, okay?”

You yawned at the same time you hummed, “Just dinner.”

“Wholesome dinner.” He confirmed. “Alright, I’m done with work. Sleep now, baby.” He cooed and you nodded even though Bucky couldn’t see you.

You heard footsteps and then the sound of the door closing shut.

“Good night, baby.”

“Hmm, good night, Bucky.”

-

To say you were giddy the next day was an understatement. You were on cloud nine after having a phone conversation with Bucky last night. You even greeted Janet the snitch a very good morning when you shared the elevator with her.

You entered your floor and offered everyone a smile, but you also noticed that they seemed to be preoccupied talking to each other.

“What’s up?” You asked Martha and the other girls who were huddled together.

“Haven’t you heard?” She asked. “Sophia shared an elevator ride with Mister Barnes earlier. He called a flower shop, asked for their most expensive bouquet and then went on to make dinner reservations at an elite restaurant!”

You paled at the discovery and cleared your throat, “And that’s a big deal because?”

Martha snickered, “Girl, we’re talking about James Barnes here, a rich and eligible bachelor. It is a big deal. And ugh, I wonder who the lucky lady is! What I’d do to be her.” Martha dreamily said.

“Do you think it’s an employee here? Fuck, I’d be so envious if that girl happens to be working here!” Sophia added.

“Is that even allowed? Sounds pretty scandalous to me.” Kate chimed in.

“Oh my god. Remember the pantry incident that Janet reported? What if that was Mister Barnes and his girl? Damn, that’s juicy. It’d be horrifying if they get caught.” Kate added.

Your head felt light-headed at all the information that was going on. Hearing their conversations felt like a bucket of iced water was being poured on you. It was like a moment of a major realization.

Shit, what has gotten into you, getting all tangled up in this mess? Damn you, Tinder!

Even if Bucky agreed to take things slow, you realized that it wouldn’t really help. If news got out that you were dating the CEO of your company, you’d still receive some backlash for it.

Maybe making it official wasn’t the right thing to do. At least, not yet.

“Ladies, gossip time is over.” You announced and tried to stay calm. “And speaking of Barnes, I need to submit a report.”

-

You nervously knocked on Bucky’s door, hoping that he was back from his early morning meeting. You could hear him talking inside and thought that maybe he was busy.

“Come in.” He called before you could even turn around.

Slowly, you opened the door and slipped inside his office. Bucky was on his chair, talking to someone over the phone. When he saw that it was you, he quickly put his phone on mute and smiled.

“Yes, baby? What do you need?” He asked softly.

Goddammit! Bucky was surely getting used to that pet name. Initially, he’d only call you that in the throes of pleasure. But somehow, Bucky began to use it so casually that it made you nervous. What if he slipped and called you that during a meeting, in front of everyone?

You hated how Bucky was becoming soft and gentle around you, well, except maybe when he was in a certain mood. It was confusing the hell out of you. But you also enjoyed being the only one to witness his soft side.

Was his offer to make things official because he truly liked you or was the fucking that good to make him want to commit all of a sudden?

“I uhh, I think I’ll just come back later if you’re busy.” You stammered.

Bucky held up a finger and then unmuted his phone, “Hey, something important came up. I’ll call you again later.” He said and quickly ended the call before turning to you.

“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He said, his eyes the softest you’d ever seen.

There goes your heart.

“I think...” you trailed, not sure how you were going to say it.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you, urging for you to continue. You heaved out a deep sigh. Your hands balled into fists at your side as you walked closer to his desk.

“Can we raincheck on the dinner tonight?” You asked.

Bucky frowned, “Why?”

You shrugged, “No reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I’ll have you on my lap for some spanking.”

How the hell does Bucky do that? Become all sweet and soft and then rough and dominating all of a sudden?!

You squeezed your thighs together because the image of Bucky’s hand landing on your ass was doing things to you. You willed yourself not to give in, you came here for a reason.

“There are rumors about you. Someone heard you making dinner reservations and now everyone’s talking about it. I just...” you paused to check Bucky’s reaction but as usual, you couldn’t read his face.

“Maybe making this official isn’t...the right thing to do.”

Bucky pushed himself up from the chair slowly and stalked towards you. Was he mad? Fuck, you hoped he wasn’t. When he reached you, his hand came up to brush your cheek with his knuckles.

“What do you want then?” He asked.

Shit, you never actually thought about it. What do you want? Keep things casual between you and Bucky? Completely stop whatever it was that was going on between the two of you?

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“I like you.” Bucky stated and stepped back. “You’re intelligent and you don’t take shit from anyone, myself included. When you said you wanted to take things slow, I agreed to it. Hence, the flowers and dinner. Now that I’m giving it to you, you still don’t want it.”

Bucky’s livid. He was composed but the way his jaw tensed as he spoke was enough proof that he was mad, really mad. It’s his calm demeanor despite being angry that somehow scared you. The calm before the storm. What the storm was going to be? You didn’t know and honestly, you weren’t sure whether it was something that you even want to find out.

Maybe you were being confusing or indecisive but only because things happened too quickly for you to even properly process it. To think that you addressed your concerns last night, you actually that Bucky understood where your feelings were stemming from. However, it seemed to have gone over his head.

“Bucky, I don’t think you’re getting my point here.” You explained, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“If you heard what your employees have been saying about you and your...girl, you’d understand.” You said and placed your hands on your hips.

Bucky made a face, “Then make me understand. What did you hear?” he asked.

“We already talked about this last night! They’d think that the promotion was given to me because we fucked! That’s going to taint my image for the rest of my life.” You huffed out.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand as he paced back and forth, “They’re idiots if they think of that. What do you want me to do? Give a detailed presentation why I decided to promote you? Go through your evaluation one by one? He sarcastically said.

“Oh my god, Bucky. You really don’t get it, do you?” You let out a humorless laugh.

He shrugged, “You’re confusing the hell out of me. Just tell me what the hell you want to happen.”

“Maybe I just want keep things professional.” You blurted out in the spur of the moment.

You didn’t mean it. You so didn’t mean it. Fuck. You word vomitted and now you were going to regret it.

Something in Bucky ticked, you saw it. He approached you until he was towering over your frame. It was intimidating to say the least, the way Bucky stared down at you with a blank expression on his face.

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky asked, his eyes looking down at your lips for a quick second before moving back up to your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.” you retorted and you’re not sure why.

Bucky exhaled through his nose and this time, you could read his face. He was fuming.

“I told you, you’re mine.” He said through gritted teeth.

The tension in the air was thick. The close proximity was making you dizzy, Bucky was so close that his scent was invading your senses. His jaw was clenched tightly as he looked down at you with piercing eyes and you were so tempted to just grab his face and kiss him and tell him that you liked him too.

But of course, your pride just had to be in the way.

“You don’t own me, Bucky. I am my own person.”

Another word vomit. You were Bucky’s the moment he laid his hands on you and you liked it.

Bucky inhaled and shrugged, loosening up before taking a step back. “So you want to keep it professional, huh?”

No.

“Yes.”

Bucky nodded, “You’re lying. I know you are. But okay then, professional it is. Let’s see how long you can keep lying to yourself.”

You watched Bucky walk back to his desk, sitting down on his chair with his arms crossed over his wide chest. His face was void of any emotion all of a sudden, he didn’t even look angry anymore and you hated how you couldn’t seem to figure him out.

“Anything else you’d like to discuss?” he asked, the professional tone of his voice sending chills down your spine, but not in a good way.

You slightly nodded, placing a folder on top of his desk before backing away. “It’s this month’s report.”

“Okay. You’re dismissed.” He casually said, grabbing the folder and skimming through your report as if you weren’t standing right in front of him.

You felt a pang of pain hit you right in the heart when he looked up at you questioningly, as if he was wondering why the fuck you still haven’t left his office. At that moment, you wanted to take back all the things you said and just give in to your damn feelings.

But would you really let your career nosedive just to be with Bucky? You weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

You straightened up and maintained a calm demeanor, “That’s all. Thanks, Bucky.”

“That’s Mister Barnes for you.”

-

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[caratmagic]

—jung wooyoung—

contains: arguing, pretty offensive words, explicit content

word count: 2.3k

mika's blog🌻 @marigold-sunflowers & yale's blog🦋 @yateez

🌻taglist🦋: @nikkell​ @yunsangoveryonder​ @sunwooyoung​ @hwanderlands​ @multidreams-and-desires​ @reeateez​ @snacksonwang​ @sunsethw4​ @nevieatiny​ 

Let us know if you want to be added to the taglist!~

Enemy Territory 🌻chapter 4🌻

You hate that you find yourself dragging your feet slowly—yet quietly— to Wooyoung’s door. Hoping that the noises you hear from behind it aren’t those of pleasure.

There’s an exchange of them chatting, audible enough to hear but not enough to make out the words. As if snooping like this wasn’t enough, you press the shell of your ear against the door. Using the frame of it to steady your body from making any unnecessary movements or noise.

A rustle. Then several more. You think you hear the sheets move.

They’ve stopped talking.

More silence, then a loud thump onto the floor.

Your heart races out of your chest and you have a hard time picturing what could possibly be going on inside Wooyoung’s room.

Footsteps hurry to the door and before you could get more than halfway down the hall, Wooyoung’s body peeks out from behind his door.

“Snooping on me now?” He scoffs with that annoyingly charming sneer. “I thought we were supposed to stay out of each other’s business? Now look who’s breaking their own rules.”

You shut your eyes tightly while your back faces your ex.

Fuck.

A breath quickly fills your lungs as you turn around in efforts to compose your expressions. You’re somehow confused as to why he was suddenly wearing a shirt.

“I— I was just about to knock and ask you what type of meat you wanted to grill, you idiot.” Your mouth moves faster than your thoughts and you’re so glad that your brain was quick enough to pull something straight out of your ass. “I didn’t want to…  interrupt.”

Wooyoung holds the door open slightly for you to catch a small glimpse of the girl politely seated at the edge of his bed. Blinking curiously at you with a content smile on her face, although her tears still stain her cheeks. “It’s not even noon yet y/n, I’m smarter than that to start having rough sex knowing that you’re in the apartment.”

This thought somehow makes your stomach turn and not in a pleasant way. You didn't want to imagine Wooyoung like this with someone else. Yet, an image of him bare and in his sexual glory flashes across your mind and for a second you forget that you aren’t single. You forget that you have a neglectful boyfriend who likes to have sex with you once a week then proceeds to avoid you until the next weekend arrives.

Does Wooyoung have sex often when I’m not around? Did he have to use the word ‘rough’? Do they have rough sex together?—

Why was the thought of Wooyoung having sex with someone else more distressing to you than the entire problem of your boyfriend literally using you as a weekend booty call?

Not a single soul should know why, because the reality of it all is that: One, Wooyoung is single. And two, you are not.

So you had no right to be bothered about it.

Right?

“Uh. Right,” You subconsciously mess with the tips of your fingers to think of what to say next since you didn’t expect that his comment would throw your mind into a loop. “Just text me when you’ve, um, decided what you want. I’ll head to the store now since you’re busy… so you’ve got 20 minutes to make a choice.”

“No need to wait 20 minutes for me to text you, y/n,” Wooyoung slowly pulls his lips into a gentle smile. A smile that sets off a million bursts of fireworks through your chest. “You already know what kind of meat I like to grill.”

Instantly you blink away the feeling—or at least try to ignore it. “People change. Just wanted to ask in case you had a change in taste.”

Wooyoung presses his lips together before nodding his head slowly. Clearly catching your composure and deciding not to point it out due to the guest on his bed. “Uh, nope. My tastes are constant, y/n.”

The worst part of it all is, your conversation was being monitored by a ditsy flower, just waiting for Wooyoung to come back and take care of her… You hated it. Everything about this set up.

Now, heading out of the apartment to get groceries seemed like a much better idea to you than twiddling your thumbs to wait for Wooyoung’s pretty guest to leave.

“I’ll head out then.”

Upon grabbing your purse and your keys, you curse at yourself mentally for getting caught snooping. Even scolding your heart for causing your mind to lose control of your emotions.

************

It had only been half an hour since you left to get ingredients for the meal with Wooyoung, yet a familiar vehicle pulls into the apartment complex parking lot.

A few flights up and your boyfriend is back at the front of your door. Sure to himself that your car has left and that you’d be gone for a while.

San punches in the code of your apartment door. When it opens, a girl stands on the other side peering up at San with a shocked expression.

“Oh hey, It’s y/n boyfriend.” She smiles before turning to Wooyoung who, at the moment, keeps a straight face.

They had finally completed their 30 minute rant session, where she comes to him for help with her loneliness. Which was a topic to talk about for another time since Wooyoung felt like it wasn’t even his place to do it for her— also, considering he’s rejected her multiple times to be something more than her emotional support friend.

He never felt like a new relationship was something he needed.

As far as relationships are concerned, Wooyoung has enough on his plate to deal with considering the ugly truth he’s recently discovered. And of course, his unsettled feelings for his gorgeous ex.

“What are you doing back?” Wooyoung asks San, holding the door open for his emotionally unstable friend.

“Uh, coming to see my girlfriend??” San exchanges an offended glare at Wooyoung.

“Oh, I thought you already had your fill for her last night… What happened? Fell asleep before you could finish the job?” Wooyoung’s words are calm yet sharp like knives. Attacking San with precision as he tilts his head in accusation. “She’s out getting groceries.” He adds.

“You know,” San narrows his eyes, striding to level his face right in front of Wooyoung’s. “You have a lot of nerve thinking you can have any say in our relationship considering you’re her fucking ex.”

“We only broke up because I decided to switch colleges last minute without telling her.” Wooyoung doesn’t back down. He’s aware that his choice was the reason why the two of you broke up and that he should’ve told you sooner he wasn’t going to go to the same college as you guys had planned. “At least I never snuck out of bed after having sex with her.”

San scoffs at the gall. “Don’t act like you fucking know me.”

“I don’t.” Wooyoung shifts his weight and sticks his hands into his jean pockets. “But I know every part of y/n way better than you do. Every. Single. Part.”

San’s hand clenches into a fist and right before he draws it back to swing at Wooyoung. The girl awkwardly standing beside them in the threshold of the door raises her voice. “Hey, as much as I like the drama, I kind of have work so if I can just pass through…”

San doesn’t steer his eyes away from Wooyoung as he takes a step to the side for the girl to get around his body. Too peeved to realize that he was blocking the door.

“…I’ll see you later, Wooyoung. Thanks for helping me out again.” She waves before disappearing into the hall.

San huffs through his nose. It’s upsetting to him that Wooyoung doesn’t even seem the least bit affected by the situation. “Why aren’t you packing your shit? Isn’t this your last week?”

As if his train of thought derails, without even waiting for an answer to his own questions, San pushes past your ex and heads straight into your room.

Looking for what he left so recklessly before sneaking away that morning.

Wooyoung, with his hands still in his pockets, calmly follows San. Watching your boyfriend’s frantic search for whatever he’s misplaced.

Since Wooyoung respects your privacy, he stops right at the entrance of your room. “Did you wait for y/n to leave the apartment?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” San tosses a pillow off your bed. Not sparing a single glance at your ex.

“I don’t know,” Wooyoung leans against the door. “I mean, if I had something to hide, I guess I’d want to wait until she was gone too.”

San stops completely. His heart drops to his stomach when he turns to your ex standing in front of your room. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Wooyoung shrugs with a playful smirk etching onto his face as one of his hands pulls something out of his right pocket. “You tell me.”

There. What San was looking for.

His phone.

“Where did you find that!?” San yells as he practically dives for it.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Wooyoung shoves it back into his pocket. Placing his hand in front of himself defensively. “Question is, why are you so upset?”

San swallows and processes quickly before clearing his throat. He couldn’t understand why his palms were so sweaty. “It’s—Because it’s fucking mine! Hand it over!”

Wooyoung shakes his head, angling his body away from your boyfriend. “It can’t be yours.”

“Are you fucking mad?” San yells again. Smacking Wooyoung’s arm away from the position he’s guarding his pocket. “Of course, it is. It’s my phone!”

“No, no, no.” Wooyoung’s stupid, playful smile begins to boil hate into San’s veins. “This can’t be your phone.”

“I’ll drop kick that fucking smile off your face, you son of a bitch, give me back my phone!”

“Dude,” Wooyoung chuckles, loving how riled up your shitty boyfriend is getting. “I swear this phone has got to be someone else’s… because when I saw it on the couch, ringing at 4 am, someone named Eunji was calling to ask if her ‘daddy’ was still going to—and I’ll quote her on this, “Rearrange my guts like you always do on Saturday nights.” And you're telling me you’re certain that this is your phone?”

The reality settles into the air and San realizes that he’s been caught cheating on you… by your ex.

This is when Wooyoung’s twisted smirk turns into an angry scowl. He’s disgusted that you found a man so indisputably vile and unloyal.

“You really think you’ll get away with this? Lying to y/n like this and fucking her once every week just to make up for how shitty a person you are?”

San’s gaze falters to the floor and he snatches his phone from the unguarded pocket of Wooyoung’s jeans. “What are you gonna do, huh? Tattle-tail on me?” He shoves it into his back pocket, scoffing. “She’ll never believe you. She hates you.”

“Even if she does,” Wooyoung turns on his heels and enters into his room across the hall. “She’ll wish you were dead after figuring out that you leave her in the mornings just to be in some other woman’s bed the very same night.”

San follows Wooyoung a few steps into the hall. “You wouldn’t dare tell her.” He spits.

An exasperated sigh paired with the front door swinging open, startles the two men away from glaring at one another.

*********

After 30 minutes of shopping, you head home.

The entire time in the parking lot, you were gathering the courage to talk yourself into confidently walking back into your house. 

So what if he was having sex? You have sex all the time with San while Wooyoung stays in the room across the hall from yours.

How is coming back home knowing that he’s having fun with a woman be any different?

Equality at its best example for it. You remind yourself as you exit the elevator.

To your dismay, You were unpleasantly greeted by a very voluptuous woman with intruding questions as to why you were going to enter into her boyfriend’s home.

You push past the nuisance at your front door. Sighing as you lazily drop the groceries onto the floor.

You can only assume that this other girl— an entirely different girl compared to the one from this morning—is Wooyoung's little problem.

This boy must be cheating… What a waste. “Taste’s are constant” my ass.

You pray that Wooyoung’s ditsy girl toy from earlier this morning has left.  Though you liked witnessing drama, you didn’t want to see two girls fight over your ex. “Wooyoung? I think you have a guest.” You call out as you take off your shoes.

To your surprise, Your boyfriend is staring at you from the hallway— eyes wide and stunned.

Wooyoung steps out of his room to stand in the hall next to San. A flat smile sets on his features as he stares at you and eunji. “I won’t need to…” He seems to be talking to San when he speaks. “Next time, set a better password on your phone. You never know who’ll scroll through your messages and send people your girlfriend’s address.”

This confuses you. Immensely. More so, when San’s face drains of all color.

“Baby! Who the hell is this girl?” Miss voluptuous checks your shoulder as she rushes past you. Headed towards Wooyoung with her arms stretched out.

What rattles your world from it’s axis isn’t that Wooyoung doesn’t hold her, it’s that the girl doesn’t even look at him. She doesn’t even acknowledge that Wooyoung’s standing there.

Instead,

She’s all over your boyfriend. Calling him “baby’ and glaring at you as if you were nothing more than a disgusting insect.

No, no… I must be dreaming.

“Sannie, who the hell is this girl and why is she coming into your apartment?”

[ chapter 5 >> ] 

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, encouraging, justifying, nor promoting mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

「𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔」

You groaned as the doorbell rang incessantly. You weren't in the mood or spirits to talk to anyone. Getting up, you thought it'd be best to just tell whoever it was to leave you alone. But you couldn't do that when you saw who it was at the door.

"Hongjoong...?" You asked in disbelief.

"Hey Y/N..." He replied, nervously, tugging at the sleeves of his oversized sweater.

You certainly weren't expecting to see him there, at your house, especially not after your guys' breakup 1 week ago. It still hurt you and not wanting to cry in front of him, you began to close the door.

"Wait! Don't Y/N! I need to talk to you!" Hongjoong exclaimed as his hands tried to keep you from locking him out.

"Well I don't! I don't want to talk to or even see you Kim Hongjoong!"

Your efforts weren't enough as he pushed himself inside your house.

"Get out Hongjoong!" You demanded, though the tremor in your voice probably didn't sound too convincing.

"Not until you hear what I have to say." Hongjoong begged.

"I think I heard what I needed to hear last time, I don't need you to repeat yourself Hongjoong. I don't need you!" You shouted as tears finally poured down your face.

Hongjoong immediately pulled you close to hug you, but you kept trying to shove him off.

"No! Don't touch me! I don't want to see you! I don't need you in my life! And I don't need you repeating that this relationship would get nowhere! I don't need someone who isn't going to commit or take things seriously after so many years and expect me to be fine with it! I don't deserve that!" You cried.

"You're right Y/N. You're absolutely right. You don't deserve that, you deserve that at all. You deserve someone whose going to take care of you, protect you at all costs and love them indefinitely....."

Hongjoong sighed.

"And I was a fucking idiot for not stepping up to do that sooner for you..."

Your hands covered your mouth in shock as he got down on one knee and pulled out a velvet red box from his pants.

"This isn't at all how I wanted to ask you this....but I was desperate and I wanted you back in my life........not as my girlfriend..."

He looked up at you with adoring eyes.

"But as my wife..."

He opened the box to reveal a huge diamond ring with a rose gold band.

"So L/N Y/N.....would you marry me?"

「𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎」

You felt utterly humiliated and self conscious. You knew for a long time that Seonghwa's parents never liked you, but now they seemed determined to get rid of you.

Your face fell the moment a pretty looking girl came up and greeted Seonghwa, and she obviously had a big effect on him, given how he straightened up when he saw her. You tilted your head trying to think who was she, when the question was answered by none other than Seonghwa's mom:

"That's my son's former fiancee." She said behind you, the malice in her voice more than visibly to you.

Your heart dropped at her words, getting worried and anxious the more they interacted together.

"Such a beautiful, elegant, refined and classy lady......all the things you'll never be." She sneered at you before walking away.

You bit your tongue, trying to contain the rage inside of you, refusing to sink to the witch's level and retaliate in any way. You simply swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to walk out of the house, and out of Seonghwa's life if you needed to.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had actually heard everything and was less than pleased when his mom came over to him and his ex. Before she could even say anything, he bursted out:

"Let that be the last time I hear you disrespect my girlfriend that way mother. I think I've put up a enough of your bullshit, but this..."

He didn't hesitate to gesture to the incredulous looking girl next to him.

"This is the last straw."

Seonghwa began walking away, refusing to stay there any longer. He'd much rather go look for you, he knew you were probably feeling bad at this moment and needed him.

"Park Seonghwa! You walk out that door and choose that low life, we will disown you and never see you again!"

Seonghwa stopped at his mother's threat. Chuckling, he turned around.

"You know mom......I can live without a lot of things....

But Y/N isn't one of them. "

「𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜」

Yunho ran out of his car, not caring to actually turn it off. He bursted through the front door.

"Y/N?! Y/N?!"

He frantically called out for you and panicked when he didn't hear a response from you. He began running through every part of his house, looking in every room and corner, searching for any sign of you. He couldn't even find any sign that you had come home.

"No no no!" He exclaimed in fear and frustration.

He quickly took out his phone and called Hongjoong.

"What's up-?"

"I think they took Y/N!" Yunho immediately said.

"Yunho...are you sure?" Hongjoong asked from the other line.

"I'm sure of it! She's not home and I don't think she made it here! Hongjoong what if the threats they sent me came true?! What if they took her away from me?" Yunho couldn't contain his feelings anymore as he began sobbing, falling to the floor in defeat.

Hongjoong stayed silent on the other line, letting Yunho compose himself before asking:

"Yunho is Y/N really that important to you?"

"Yes! She's the most important person in my life! You don't understand Hongjoong!!...."

Yunho sniffled loudly before confessing:

"I love her and I can't live without her..."

Yunho broke down once again, internally kicking himself for not taking better care of you, for not putting up better security to ensure your safety. He felt like dying until he heard a warm and familiar voice say from his phone:

"I love you too Yunho."

Yunho nearly ended the call when he dropped the phone at the sound of your voice.

"Baby?" He asked.

"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier Yunho. I asked her to come over because I wanted her to know what's been going on with our rival gang." Hongjoong explained.

Yunho let out a sigh of relief and wiped his face with the sleeves of his sweater.

"So you're ok and not hurt?"

Yunho could practically hear you smiling when you said:

"I'm ok Yunho. And don't worry. I'll be home soon. Wait for me."

「𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔」

Yeosang tossed and turned on his king sized bed, unable to sleep. He grabbed one of the many pillows next to him and wrapped his arms and legs around it, but it didn't feel right. It was cold and somehow couldn't adjust properly to his body.

Groaning he just threw it across the room and slumped on the bed, looking at the ceiling. He was startled by 3 loud knocks on his door.

"Yo! Can you either stop making so much noise or else I'm going to knock you out until our trip is finished. Thank you!" He heard Jongho's tired voice exclaim.

Yeosang sighed. Ever since he left the airport that morning along with the others because they had a mission to carry out, he had been anxious. This was the furthest and about to become the longest time he'd been away from home....

Away from you...

It was only the first night and he already had trouble sleeping. He had gotten so used to having you next to him, cuddled up next to you, inhaling your calming scent as he fell asleep to the sound of your breathing. It was like he needed it or else he'd go insane. If he couldn't have that, he at least needed to hear your voice.

Pushing his luck, he opened up his phone and tried to video call you. His free hand began fidgeting, as he remembered you probably wouldn't pick up since it was late and you were probably asleep too. His heart skipped a beat when your face popped up on the screen.

"Yeosang?" You asked tiredly.

"Uh..... hi baby. Did I wake you?" He asked, feeling guilty for disturbing you.

You yawned softly. "It's fine. What's wrong baby?"

Yeosang blushed at the pet name and at the thought of telling you why he called you.

"I.....couldn't sleep...." He admitted shyly.

"Oh? Why's that love?" You raised an eyebrow.

Yeosang smiled shyly before saying:

"You're not here.......and I wanted to see you....hear you..."

He leaned in closer to the camera, his fingers grazing the screen, wanting to touch you.

"I miss you.."

「𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛」

San strolled somberly through the park, not really paying attention where he was going. Finding an empty bench, he sat down on it and looked at the ground, reflecting on what happened a few days prior:

"You're...what?" He asked, his eyes widening when you told him the news. He began chuckling awkwardly.

"Please tell me your joking."

You held up the pregnancy, 2 lines clearly indicating that it was positive. San nearly fell back when he saw it.

"H-how in the world..?" He couldn't even finish his sentence.

"You really want a biology lesson right now?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

"You know that's not what I meant!" His tone suddenly got loud, frightening you a little.

"We were careful! You were on the pill and I used condoms! What the hell went wrong?!" He demanded.

"You know that doesn't always work! And instead of yelling at me can't you try to be more supportive of the fact I'm carrying your child Choi San!?" You lashed out at him.

San looked away from you in shame, too scared of the situation. He grabbed his coat and left you there with only an apology that broke your heart.

San was brought out of his thoughts when he heard a little squeal. Lifting his head up, he watched as a young couple played with their daughter. The image brought a smile to his face, and then he was filled with dread and remorse for just leaving you like that.

"Choi San you fucking coward." He said as he got up and ran to your house, hoping it wasn't too late to set things right with you.

When you opened the door, you were startled to see him and even more startled when he engulfed you in a hug.

"I'm extremely sorry for leaving you like that Y/N. I was scared and truthfully, I still am."

Pulling back, he looked straight in your eyes to say the following words:

"But I love you and I'm not going to let you go through this alone. I'm going to be here for you...and our child."

「𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖」

"Hold still."

You repeated that for what seemed like the 25th time in less than 4 minutes.

"It stings!" Mingi complained when you wiped the cotton pad filled with sanitizing solution on his wound again.

"If you stop moving, we'll get over this faster and it'll hurt less." You reminded him.

Mingi shut his eyes tight and muffled a cry when you rubbed his wound. You rolled your eyes at him as you finished by bandaging him up.

"Seriously, you're such a big baby at times." You told him as you began dressing him in a shirt.

"Oh yeah? Can a big baby take a stab to the chest? No? Thought so." He stated proudly.

You only sighed as you began buttoning up his shirt.

"I only wished you'd be more careful. Sometimes I'm afraid of you getting really hurt...."

Mingi could sense your nervousness and fear of one day losing him. Cupping your cheeks, he smushed your face together and cooed at you softly.

"You don't have to worry about me baby. Hardly anything happens to me aside from little scrapes like these." He assured you.

You snorted. "Yeah. Scrapes that I always end up cleaning and taking care of. Seriously, what would you do if you didn't have me? You can't live without me."

Mingi was going to reply something sarcastically to your teasing, but instead he just let out a gasp and held a hand to his chest.

"What?" You were startled by his action, thinking his wound opened up or started hurting.

Mingi blinked at you before saying:

"You're right....I really can't live without you.."

Without warning, he tackled you onto the bed and wrapped his long limbs around you, rendering you unable to escape him.

"Cause I love you too much to let you go." He winked at you and pressed kisses all over your face.

"Mingi! You dork! Let me go!" You cried out half-heartedly, loving how playful he'd get.

"Nope! I'm never gonna let you go!" He giggled at you as he tightened his embrace on you.

「𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔」

You said good night to your date, allowing him to kiss you softly on the lips. It wasn't particularly bad, but you felt no sparks at all, although you pushed those thoughts away, believing that it was only because it was your first kiss together. You walked to the front of your apartment, and began to take out your key when a figure rounded the corner and stepped up next to you.

"Did you have fun on your little date?"

You knew that voice all too well, even if you were born again, you'd still recognize it.

"I did actually Wooyoung." You turned around, your arms crossing over your chest. You couldn't help the smug smirk on your face as you continued:

"He was a perfect gentleman and very well behaved thank you."

Wooyoung scoffed. "Boring old sack if you ask me."

"What the fuck do you want Wooyoung?" You were tired of him and just wanted him gone.

"You know exactly what I want Y/N..."

Pressing his body close to yours, he let one of his hands tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I want you.....I want us again."

You let out a dry laugh at that.

"How funny. If I recall correctly, it was you the one who wanted to end us. The one who didn't want to commit to a relationship, the one who wanted to continue living a wild life and just walk out of whatever we had."

Wooyoung looked away momentarily when you spoke out the harsh truth.

"Well guess what? I moved on and I found someone else to be happy with. I don't need you and you certainly don't need me."

You turned to walk inside your house, but Wooyoung spun you around and pinned you to the wall.

"That's where you're wrong Y/N! I do need you! I can't live without you!"

Not being able to help it, he gripped your chin and kissed you roughly. You didn't even try to push him away, deep down you knew you wanted it too. His kiss definitely sent sparks down your body and you craved it more when he pulled away.

Wooyoung smirked when he saw your expression.

"And I'm willing to bet you can't live without me either..."

「𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜」

Jongho stared at the documents in front of him. All he had to do was pick up the pen next to him, sign away and then he would be free. Free from this arranged marriage set up by both of your parents that threw you both together for years now. Both of you could finally live your lives the way you wanted to......

"So why can't I just do it?"

Jongho didn't need to think too much about it, he knew exactly why he was refusing to sign the papers.

"Jongho? Anytime now." You reminded him, tapping on the dotted line at the bottom of the page.

Jongho hesitantly picked up the pen next to him, sighing sadly. His hand began to tremble as he placed the ballpoint right on the line..... but he couldn't do it.

"Fuck this."

Jongho threw the pen to the side and grabbed the stack of papers, easily ripping them to shreds and discarding them in the nearest trash bin.

"Jongho? What are you doing?" You exclaimed in shock of his actions.

"I can't do this Y/N." He admitted.

"You don't have to be scared anymore Jongho. I told you, our parents won't care-"

"No Y/N! You don't understand! I can't end our marriage because I don't want to!"

You looked at him in shock when he said that. Walking up to you, Jongho held your hands.

"From the beginning......despite not wanting any of this....you were always so sweet and caring towards me, and you were always there when I needed you, even if at times I pushed you away.."

Your eyes welled up with tears when he began talking.

"I'm not ready to let you go.......I can't let you go."

He looked into your eyes before admitting:

"Y/N, I love you. I truly and wholeheartedly fell in love with you...... and I don't think I could live the rest of my life without you in it...so please...

Can you please stay with me?"

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners

[nothing-but-dreamy]

MISSION: FAILED

Pairing: LEON KENNEDY x CHRIS REDFIELD x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 2.357

Warnings: angst - fluff; mention of wounds

Synopsis: While the boys were on a mission, YN was on their own. An easy standart mission - and still something went wrong. Now, YN has to deal with the aftermath of their decision as the guys come back home.

"Holy sh- fuck!", you breathed in shock, watching how the Tyrant grabbed the rocket launcher to aim into the wrong direction. You raised your arms, waving them through the air to beckon him into your position, "Bite my ass, you motherfu-"

An explosion, as loud as hundred bangers, was shaking the district of the town you had your mission in. Windows were breaking, debris were flying around and the night got illuminated as if a sun had been exploded.

***

"I'm so looking forward to a hot shower.", Leon groaned while rubbing the back of his aching neck as he and Chris left the airfield.

"My plan? Greeting YN, a hot shower and falling straight into bed to sleep one week through.", Chris said, completely exhausted, rolling with his right shoulder where he had pulled a muscle after a long fight.

"YN... Yeah...", Leon breathed dreamingly and smiled softly about the image of you he had in mind suddenly, "You think they’re already back from their mission?", he asked as he realized neither of them had heard anything of you.

"Well... I'm sure they are-"

"Redfield! Kennedy!", an agent called out while running after the two men to give Chris the cellphone he was carrying.

While Chris answered the call, Leon waited patiently and listened. But the longer the call lastest the more irritated Leon became. Mostly, because he just heard your name and saw Chris' reaction about whatever got said. The questions Chris asked weren't very calming as well. As Chris said 'And how are they doing?', Leon became nervous.

Chris hung up and stood there facing Leon with his back to find the right way to tell him the news. But Chris knew, there was no easy way, "YN, they ... they had some troubles during their last mission..."

*

"Whoa! Leon, slow the fuck down!", Chris called out and clawed on the handle of the passenger seat above his head while he also seeked hold on the dashboard with his other hand.

But Leon ignored him and drove - no he flew - down the streets in high-speed. Chris was glad that it was already late enough that barely someone was on the streets. Yet, Chris was still concerned, "Leon, I'm serious! You kill us both if you keep driving this reckless! And that won't be helpful for YN as well.", he said and was glad to see that it had worked. Leon slowed down a little bit but he still drove frighteningly.

Ten minutes later - for a way of usually twenty minutes - Leon stopped the car in front of your apartment building and both Chris and Leon jumped out of the vehicle to run up the few stairs. Quickly, Chris opened the door and ran through the rooms to search you. First, he looked into the bedroom, expecting you there and as he didn’t find you there, Chris stormed through your living room into your kitchen.

Shocked, you stood next to the fridge with a glass in your hand, almost dropping it, as you got faced by the two tall guys you called your boyfriends who were staring at you with a mixed expression of worry, concern and anger. You had no idea who told them what kind of information but you were sure the sight of you must be scary.

On your forehead was a big scratch which got stitched several times and patched up. Your left arm was in a sling because your wrist was fractured and your shoulder had been dislocated. You just wore a loose fit, cropped shirt and boxer briefs which showed off the thick bandage around your rib cage because three ribs were broken and one got a dangerous crack. Your right foot was also bandaged because of your sprained ankle.

Before you could say something, Chris stepped forward, pointing at you with his forefinger, "You! You should be in bed! Why are you even up?", he demanded to know with a booming, angry voice, eyebrows drawn together and all.

Instinctively, you stepped back, bumping against the kitchen counter which let you flinch by the pain that got shot through your body, "I- I was thirsty and-"

"Thirsty? Look at you! You can barely stand on your own feet!", Chris called out, a bit too raging for his own liking as he saw your fearful expression but he couldn’t stop himself.

Leon stepped forward, trying to stop the taller man but Chris was already on fire. Chris shook Leon's hand from his shoulder, stepping even closer to you, "You know what they told us? That you were fighting against a Tyrant! A Tyrant! Your mission was to infiltrate and to gather information! Not to fight against a FUCKING TYRANT!"

"Please, Chris, calm down.", you said softly, trying to sound reassuringly while you were hissing with pain as you noticed how painful it was to speak louder than just a whisper.

Chris saw it and somehow, instead of calming down, to see you in pain fueled his temper even more, "I shall calm down? You could be dead now and I SHALL CALM DOWN? You know, I got informed that you triggered the Tyrant to aim for you. You did that because of- what, huh?", he asked and stepped threateningly closer, "I don't get it! Why are you always so cocky in extremely dangerous situations?"

Your eyes flickered back and forth between his. You never had seen Chris this angry before at least, not directed at you. You swallowed thickly by the sight of his fuming eyes, "I- I was... I tried to-"

Chris leant even closer, towering above your meager figure in front of him, "Yeah? I'm listening to your flimsy excuses! You tried- what?", Chris grunted through gritted teeth and even if he saw you flinching from him once again, he couldn't change to be this angry.

Leon saw your scared eyes and the pain that shook your body. He stepped between you and Chris to push the latter away from you, "Chris, calm down a bit, will you?"

Very reluctantly, with his eyes still glued at you, Chris followed Leon's request and left the kitchen to step out on the balcony for some fresh air.

You took a deep breath, "Thanks, Leon-", but you stopped as you saw Leon's angry expression. Obviously, this Tango was still not over for you.

"Don’t worry, I won't scream at you but you should know that I'm not amused about this, as well. You not just failed your mission. You also put yourself into danger. What were you thinking, huh? I read your mission file. There was nothing complicated on it.", Leon said serious.

Leon never screamed. Most of the time, he was composed even if he was upset. He was angry in his own way and this was almost as worse as the screaming from Chris. Screaming was a temperament that ran free. But Leon’s calmness even if he was angry was scary in another way because you never knew what he really felt. You couldn’t look behind his facade. It would be easier for you if he would scream like Chris did it but in the end both men were too different. Which was the fact why you loved both so much. You looked at the ground, avoiding Leon’s eyes, "I know. Both of you have all the rights to be mad at me.", you whispered meekly.

Leon stepped forward, he wanted to touch you but he feared to hurt you with all the scratches and bruises on your body that pained him to see, "YN, we... We're not mad. We're... We were scared, alright? As Chris got the call, they just told him that your mission failed and that you are serious injured.", he admitted low with a concerned expression. Softly, Leon cupped your face with one hand, guiding you to look at him, "Chris cares so much about you. We both do. We both love you, YN. You can't put yourself in danger just because you want some fun.", he said softly.

You nodded slowly, leaning against his warm touch, "I just... I just did it to distract the Tyrant from my teammates. They were the ones in real danger. I was kinda safe behind a half ruined wall. Well, at least, I thought I was. As the Tyrant fired the rocket launcher, I tried to jump aside but, well, you see the outcome of this idea. My safe hideout fell onto me.", you said with a shake of your head, still not sure how you had survived this nightmarish trip at all.

Leon, who chuckled softly, stroked over your cheek with his thumb, "You and Chris are resembling each other more than you think when it comes to such stupid ideas to safe others. I guess that's why he's so scared because you do things as he would do."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe... You think I should talk with him?", you asked carefully, gnawing on your lower lip. You hated fights mostly with the boys and you were eager to change that back into harmony again.

Leon smiled softly, just glad that you were still in their life before he leant forward and kissed you caringly but strongly to show you all the admiration he held for you. As he left your lips again, he nodded, "Yes. Go to him. I'm sure he will have cooled down by now."

**

Chris stood on your balcony, leaning against the barricade with his arms. His eyes were glued at the horizon, watching the city's skyline and the starry night sky at the same time. He heard you stepping out on the balcony with your naked feet. He felt your presence next to him but he couldn't look at you. He still felt angry and ... scared. Slowly, Chris kneaded his hands to channel his temper somewhere else than into your face again.

You watched Chris' impressive, broad frame against the dark sky. His profile was the one you could stare at for hours without getting bored. But you also could tell that he was still upset. So, you hobbled slowly next to his side, leaning against his muscled arm to rest your head there, "I'm sorry, Chris. I really am.", you whispered, looking at the same view as he did.

“You were reckless.”, Chris pointed out without looking at you.

Smiling, you watched how a soft breeze tousled his soft brown hair and because you had missed the feeling of his strands, you raked your fingers slowly through it, “I had a reason.”

“Oh, yeah? Which one?”, Chris asked, enjoying your affection with closed eyes.

“I had to help my comrades. They were in danger because of the Tyrant. We got discovered and as the Tyrant followed us, I had to do something. I was in a safe hideout. The Tyrant hadn’t seen me. But they weren’t. I couldn’t just watch and do nothing.”, you explained softly but serious.

Finally, Chris looked at you, all the anger was erased from his eyes and left was just sadness and worries as he saw your wounds once again, “Don't do this. Don’t play this card. That's not fair.”, he said, stroking a strand of your hair out of your face.

You smiled broadly, “Why not? Just because I know you would do the same?”

Chris chuckled low before he looked back into your eyes, “Yeah ... Don't use it against me to justify your action.”

“Well, at least you're not mad at me anymore.”, you pointed out as you saw the small, lovely smile on his lips.

Chris cupped your face carefully with both hands, trying to avoid hurting you, “I was scared. Not really mad. YN, you... You can't leave us alone. I don't wanna lose you. We both don't wanna lose you.”, he said while staring into your eyes.

With your free hand, you stroked softly over his chest, “I know. Chris, I... None of you won't get rid of me so easily.”

“You promise me that, honey?”

“I do, Chris.”, you whispered before he kissed you longingly which showed you how scared he had been before. As he leant back again, you took his hand in yours, knotting your fingers with his to bring him back inside where Leon was already waiting, happy to see that all waves had calmed down again.

And then, the caring-hell broke loose. Both guys were busy taking care of you no matter how tired they were and how often you said you would be fine. Without listening to you, they put you back to bed. Chris got you the water you wanted while Leon ordered pizza.

While waiting, Chris took a shower and Leon watched out that you wouldn’t leave the bed again and told you about their mission. As Chris was done, Leon took a shower and you rolled with your eyes because then, Chris watched out for you. With the only difference that Chris made you laugh which was painful but worth it to see this broad, tough guy in a better mood again.

The pizza arrived as Leon also left the shower and as everyone was sated and tired, the boys brought the stuff into the kitchen just to find you were fast asleep in the middle of the bed as they were coming back. With soft smiles, they watched you.

"They’re so sweet when they’re sleeping.", Leon said grinning.

"Yeah, because they’re can't do anything stupid then.", Chris admitted and matched Leon’s grin.

Both guys crawled next to you, carefully cuddling against you to make sure they weren't hurting you but at the same time, they felt your presence. While Leon’s arm laid protectively over your stomach, stroking your skin softly with his thumb, Chris grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers while his head rested softly on your shoulder.

You awoke by their soft touches. With a sleepy smile you watched pleased how these tough guys were sleeping peacefully next to you. You thanked once again to have them in your life and during your next mission, maybe, you would watch out more to keep your promise you had given to Chris.

[weareallstoriesintheend]

Deity - (Reader x Sub!Sackler)

Summary: Adam comes home from an audition in a raging mood and you know exactly how to calm him down. Sometimes a little bit of worship is all that is needed...

Based on the song Deity by Valeree

Warnings: Smut, Oral (F receiving), Fdom, Sub!Sackler

Words:  2,624

He slammed the door behind him with a classic elongated groan; you peeked over the top of the book you were reading as he threw his keys down on the side table and stomped around your apartment. You watched silently from the armchair as he trudged to the kitchen, kicking and throwing his clothes off him as he went. Adam was akin to a child in the way that ridding himself of his clothes helped rid him of his anger. He would always rip his shirt off over his head whenever he got even remotely frustrated, it was a quirk that you always quietly enjoyed. In fact you’d probably picked a fight or two in the past just to see him do it. You watched as he slammed the tap on to pour himself a glass of water before chugging it down in a terrifyingly small amount of gulps and slamming the glass down on the side. “Rough day?” you posed casually turning back to the page you were reading. “These fucking casting directors are a JOKE!” he shouted and began pacing once more shaking his clenched fists into the air. You bit back a giggle at his ridiculous motions. “I’m guessing the audition didn’t go well then?” you realised, as he turned to you, that this wasn’t usual Adam frustration; the over active emotions he usually displayed were gone, this was genuine hurt. So you chucked your book down on the coffee table and leant your elbows on your knees to show him you were listening. He flung himself round and dropped into the coach opposite you. He rubbed the flats of his palms into his eyes and grunted “I don’t know why I bother; every audition I do lately is just full of pretentious dicks who think being fucking pretty is what’s going to get them the job… and then it fuuuucking WORKS!” “But you are pretty baby” you teased slightly; he looked at you pouting, his lusciously full bottom lip jutting out. He whined and tilted his head back balling his fists up in his lap “That’s not the point!”

Honey, you look lost And I've never really been religious But I heard finding a God Just might help when someone's starting to feel helpless

“I know my love, sorry. Listen…” you waited until he looked back at you before continuing “You work so hard and I hate to see you losing hope. You’re passionate and talented and that’s what’s going to get you these jobs. But you have to fight for that! And keepfighting!” He was still pouting but he nodded silently, his eyebrows were pulled down over his sweet doe eyes. You smiled at him as something changed in his expression, a familiar twinkle glinted in his eye as he ran his gaze over your seated position. It was like he’d just realised what you were wearing, simply underwear and one of his old t-shirts that you practically drowned in as it ended at the tops of your thighs “What do you need darling? Tell me.” You asked.

I don't know much 'bout Buddhists, Jews, or Christians But I got something I think you could worship

Adam dropped to his knees and crawled the short distance between you until he was seated, leant back on his heels, at your feet. He was silent, staring at you with those pretty pleading eyes “You have to use your words Sackler.” you prompted. He practically wiggled in place as he hands came up to run along your bare thighs. You slapped his hands away and sat forward so you were close to his face, breath ghosting over him. He whined in protest but closed his eyes “Your words my love. You have to use them.” you stated, voice seductively lower. “You,” he whispered “I want you.” You smiled back at him, “I’m right here honey, what do you need?” He huffed a sigh and licked his bottom lip “I want to taste you… please. I want to worship you, take my mind off this fucking stupid day.” Those sweet doe eyes were back and you leant back with your elbows on the armrests of the chair for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. You took in the image of Adam, resting back on his heels in just his light grey underwear. His wide pale chest was heaving a little faster now; his long muscled arms were resting against his body, palms flat against his thighs. “Oh look at you sweetheart, so pretty for me” you chuckled. He nodded and inched a little closer “Please. I need something good in my day. You are my something good.”

You heart ached in your chest at his soft pleas. “Show me” you stated, he immediately widened his knees slightly and dropped his head. You followed his gaze to the growing bulge in his boxers “Oh” you gasped, you couldn’t help but lean forward as you spoke and capture his chin in your hand. Your other hand leant forward to touch his hardening cock, you touched him just so your fingers were barely grazing him and he bucked slightly. Bringing his face up to look at you you placed a soft kiss to his lips. He whined almost silently under his breath and pitched forward trying to keep your lips on his “Fuuuuck come on kid, I need this” he begged under his breath. You chuckled darkly at his sweet demeanor faltering slightly back into his usual cadence “Okay…” you stated, widening your legs and planting your feet either side of his thighs. “Be a good boy for me”

I’ll be your deity, fall to your knees Oh, honey, pray to me between the sheets

He dove forward and hooked his fingers into your underwear and ripped them harshly down your legs. You closed your knees together slightly and tsk’d at him “ah, ah, ah… slowly sweet boy” He nodded apologetically and began placing indulgent kisses up your thigh. The muscles twitched underneath his full lips and you sighed, leaning your head against the back of the chair “That’s it, I want to feel how badly you want this” His hands tentatively wrapped around your ankles, clearly unsure if he was allowed to touch you. You considered kicking him away but you looked down and his eyes caught yours. He licked a hot wet stripe up your inner right thigh and you could see the smirk twitching at his lips as you gasped despite yourself.

Get down and start to confess Come into the church between my legs Baby, and I’ll set you free

You abruptly sat up and grabbed his jaw in your hand squeezing tightly, he groaned at the feeling and you brought him up to your eye line “I see that smirk, here I thought you were being a good boy” “I am.” he smiled “No I don’t think you are, you come in here stomping around my apartment like a fucking child, like you own the place, and now you think you can act all cocky to me?” His expression suddenly changed again, his eyebrows quirked a little and he squirmed in your grasp “I’m sorry” he whispered, stuttering slightly as he spoke. “What was that?” you asked, squeezing his jaw tighter. He winced “I’m sorry!” “Look at you, pathetic. All pouty and whiny for me. But look…” you lowered your eyes to his hard cock evident between his powerful thighs, a small wet patch was darkening where his pre-cum had soaked through the light material “… You can’t control yourself can you? Sweet little boy is all needy from the mere thought of tasting my cunt” He nodded frantically and you let go of his jaw “I-I’m sorry. Please” he whispered again, fingers twitching in his lap. You aww’d at him, he looked so innocent when he begged. “Do you want to be good Adam?” you questioned, already knowing the answer but wanting the admission to come from his lips only. “Yes! Please I want to make you feel good. Let me earn you.” he cried out; big, wide eyes looked up at you as you nodded allowing him to continue.

Oh, I don't believe in a vengeful God No, I don't believe in punishing the sinner Unless punishment's the kind of love you want

He kissed quick, soft pecks up both of your thighs and you savoured the feeling of his timid grasp on your ankles. You invited him closer by parting your legs a little more, unable to take your eyes of his ministrations. Having him like this thrilled you; the thought of this large, beautiful man who usually pinned you down and made you beg for his cock now on his knees pleading for just a taste of you made you soaked beyond belief.

His lips glided closer to your cunt along your goosebumped skin, your clit was throbbing harder as you tried to keep your composed control. He was taking his time, cherishing the soft skin between your legs but you needed him. You snaked your hand into his hair and tugged up, he cried out in your grasp before moaning into the folds of your cunt. You sighed, releasing him and leaning back once more. You closed your eyes and took in the feeling of his soft tongue gliding over you “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, that feels good” you hummed almost to yourself. He moaned into you and the vibrations made you shudder, he wrapped his lips around your clit and began sucking. He knew just how much you loved the sensation of his skilled mouth around your clit, the amount of times you’d begged for it he knew exactly what you needed in this moment. You looked down and took in the contentment on his face, eyes closed in what could only be described as absolute bliss as he busied himself in your dripping cunt. “You’re doing so good for me baby” You whispered, stroking his hair from his face. You looked down and saw him palming his cock with one hand, wriggling in his kneeling position. You flicked your foot to tap his arm “Did I tell you you could do that?” Without lifting his mouth from you he shook his head and didn’t even opening his eyes, you held back the moan that threatened to ripple through you “Then stop” you ordered. He whined and looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, you almost caved to his neediness but then you got an idea.

I don't know much 'bout Orthodox traditions But I got something I think you should worship

“I’ll make you a deal, make me cum and I’ll think about letting you do the same” you smiled, his eyes lit up and suddenly he was devouring you. Gripping your legs once again he moaned and grunted into you. Shockwaves of pleasure were crackling over your skin and it was your turn to cry out, plunging your hands into his messy hair you clutched him to you. Your tight hole was clenching around nothing as you dripped onto the chair below you. “Yes, just like that. Good boy, keep doing that” you rambled as you were lost in the feeling of his hot mouth on you. Your stomach was tightening and your thighs clamped around his head unable to stop your hips from bucking into his face. He knew you so well, he knew every sound and move you made as you got closer and closer to cumming. Suddenly his hands leave your legs and tuck up under you, lifting you off the seat closer to him. You wanted to stop him, scold him for doing something without permission but the quivering in your thighs and the choking moans you were letting out meant you could barely speak. You gripped his arms to steady yourself, balanced precariously on his large palms. “Make me cum! Yes, fuck, make me cum!” you chanted and one with one hard suck directly on your clit you felt yourself tumbling into white-hot pleasure. Uninhibited cries leave you as you dig your fingernails deep into his arms, your muscles stiff and burning hot as you convulse against him. He rests you down into the chair once more, placing gentle kisses to your trembling thighs once more as you pant and whimper. “You did so well for me.” you whisper as you meet his expectant gaze. You can see his palms tapping his thighs, you hadn’t realised he had managed to free himself from his boxers. His thick, aching cock was now twitching below you and you laughed. “Okay” that was all you needed to say before his hand was stroking it. He hissed at the sensation, leaning his head back.

You leant forward and stroked his pale shoulders where they were tinged with a blush of red, they glistened with sweat from his effort “You did so good Adam” you cooed at him “You’re so sweet to me” He whined and looked back at you, his bottom lip was sucked in between his teeth and his eyebrows were pulled down in desperation. His hand picked up speed between you “You did exactly as I asked didn’t you?” He nodded frantically, panting at the speed he was stroking. “And you did so good in that audition today, I know you did. My talented boy, you deserve the world you know that?” you whispered, stroking his sweat soaked hair back out of his face. You ran your fingertips down his face, tracing light teasing patterns over all the angles you loved, his cheeks were flushed an exquisite pink. You ran the tip of your finger down his beautiful, aquiline nose that you absolutely adored and he moaned, his eyes brimming like he could cry. His hand picked up speed once again and his hips were rutting up into his grasp. You wiped sweat from his temple and kissed his forehead, leaning forward so you could whisper in his ear “Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how good it feels to worship at my feet” “S-so good” he stuttered “So fucking good!”

Baby, praise me. Make me your deity and I'll set you free

“That’s it Adam, cum for me. You deserve it.” He tilted forward, placing his forehead on your shoulder with a groan. You placed kisses to every inch of skin you could reach up and down his neck, sucking gently on his earlobe “Cum for me.” He explodes with a deep groan, thick ropes of cum splashing up onto his stomach and over his hand. He huffs and grunts, rutting up into his hands in stuttered thrusts. He sways slightly as his breathing slows and you reach out to grab his shoulders and steady him.

Once you had caught your breath you stood. You made your way to the kitchen bare feet padding quietly on the cold floor, knees wobbling beneath you, to get a towel. Walking back to him you saw him watching your every move with a dazed smile on his face, his eyelids were drooped and sweat droplets dripped deliciously down the centre of his chest. You dropped the towel into his outstretched hands and chuckled as he wiped his cum agitatedly from his hands and stomach with a slight grimace. Bending down you knelt down on the floor in front of him, taking his face in both your hands and kissing him. You stroked your tongue into his mouth, delighting in the taste of your juices on his lips. “Such a good boy for me” you teased quietly. “Fuck off kid” he laughed, blushing a deeper shade pink. He leant his forehead against yours and sighed “Thank you”.

[hpalways]

Knight’s Flames || Diluc

RED flames flickered from the fireplace, warming up the cozy room with its homely, fresh-cut, wooden smell. The space encompassed of a dark, leather sofa, and curtains drawn in to cover the night skies of Mondstadt. Your eyes dazed and stuck on the flames, the being waved in the air as a ferocious monster waiting to swallow you whole. Shivering under the cover of your wool blanket, you couldn't get the idea of your near death out of your head. 

Yes, while you were traveling around the icy mountains of Dragonspine, you made a terrible decision of swimming across a bank. Nearly drowning from losing stamina, you were most fortunate when Diluc stumbled upon you. Saving you with a quick dive, he brought you home safe and sound. At first, he was dangerously angry at you, his crimson eyes gleaming darkly and ready to pierce you. But he calmed down soon afterwards and was in the kitchen right now, to make a cup of cocoa for you. 

It took him another minute or so, but footsteps soon sounded against the wooden floor. The tall man entered your vision, never failing once to take your breath away. Setting a cup down on the coffee table in front of you, a scarlet, wet lock of hair draped past his shoulder, escaping the ponytail he tied for himself. Changed out of his usual clothes, he wore a baggy, white shirt and dark trousers that you fetched from your father's closet. Being the stubborn ass that he was, it took a moment for you to persuade him to so -- you did not want him to catch a cold by any means. 

He sat down beside you, his weight shifting the balance of the couch. He held his own cup of cocoa on one hand, while his free hand placed on your shoulder. It pulled you towards him, until you were pressed against his warm body. "D-Diluc?" you breathed out, surprised and flustered. Heart pounding against your chest, you couldn't believe what he was doing. 

He wouldn't respond; instead, he took a sip of his drink, staring directly into the fireplace. Was he... worried about you? He wouldn't admit it verbally, but perhaps he wanted to stay close to you because of what he had seen. 

"What are you thinking of right now?" you inquired softly, relaxing your limbs. Deciding to say fuck it, you snuggled into him and cherished the heat he provided. You were still terrified out of your wits from the day's events, but with Diluc here... he was your rock to hold onto, stabling you until you could stand on your own. He truly was like the flames. He was very distant, something you could not actually touch, yet all the same, he was the only source keeping you alive. He was beautiful... and deep down inside, you knew he was caring nonetheless. Him being the Darknight Hero was proof enough. 

"Hot chocolate," he told you. You blinked for a few seconds, expression blank. "You should drink it. It'll help distract you."

Curling your fingers around the mug's handle, you returned to your position beside Diluc. "There. Happy?" you said. Coating your tongue with warm, sweet substance, you swallowed it down. It was very tasty. "If I wanted to be distracted, wouldn't I turn to alcohol though?"

His brows twisted and he looked almost offended. "Are you serious right now?"

You chuckled and leaned your head against his shoulder. "I nearly forgot you hated alcohol."

"It's as though you don't even try to remember," he huffed out. His tone was light and also teasing, but it soon turned a 180. "Your carelessness is always getting in the way of everything. Like today, for instance."

"And here I thought we were trying to distract ourselves," you muttered, letting out a long sigh.

"You still need to be more careful," he argued. In the corner of your eye, you noticed the way his grip tightened around the cup. You lifted your head and turned to look at him. His was also on yours, reflecting the light of the flames, shadows lining his face from how dark the room was. You took in his damp bangs to his lips -- hair that was wet because of you and lips that were pressed upon yours to get the excess water out of your system. 

You swiftly averted your eyes elsewhere, ignoring the flutters that erupted from your stomach. "But I am safe, aren't I? Thanks to you." 

"Yes. Indeed, you are safe. That's all that matters, I suppose," he murmured. He drank the rest of his hot chocolate and returned the empty cup to the table. Now wrapping both arms around you, he tightened his hold and nestled his face into your wet, [h/c] hair. You widened your eyes in surprise, with your heart ready to explode. He was so, so shameless. 

"Remember when we first met?" you said, grinning. Pretending that this position was as normal as it could be, you decided to just go with it. He would be back to his usual self by tomorrow anyway -- it was probably the nerves and distraught that was causing him to be so touchy-feely. "I saw you at the tavern and because you were drinking so much grape juice, I mistaken you to be drinking alcohol. It confused me why you weren't blacked out drunk yet."

He scoffed, clicking his tongue. "And yet you couldn't remember I didn't like alcohol just a moment ago. Also, you're the one who's drinking yourself away. Very irresponsibly too, if I dare say."

"Aw, shut it already," you whined, scowling. 

"Do you happen to have a chess piece board?" 

"Yes, I do," you answered. 

"Would you like to play a round with me then?" he asked, finally unwrapping his arms around yourself. Much to your surprise, rather than feeling relieved to leave his arms, you wished to have him hug you again. He made you feel safe, as if no harm could ever go towards your way again. 

"Sure. But be warned, I've played with my father a good amount and he's a master at it," you told him, curling the corners of your lips up. He cocked a brow upward, prepared to take your declaration of war on. Pulling yourself up from the couch, you arrived at a bookshelf and rifled through the stacks of miscellaneous items. Once achieving the box containing the game, you brushed the specks of dust off and hurried back to the male, who sat himself down on the floor. You lowered yourself as well, putting the game in the middle. 

Since you wished to be white, he was black. Lining the pieces at their assigned spots, the game soon began -- one filled of mostly silence and a lot of deep concentration. Every move counted, your palms growing sweaty to think up of a strategy to take his players out. The hour went by, the side of the board beginning to fill its space up with lost soldiers, coming from each team. The battle ensued and the your brain was getting fried up for thinking so technically, but of course, all things had to come to an end. 

Sending a knight forward, Diluc moved his arm to your queen. The plastic shell echoed loudly against the wood, ringing into your ears. "Checkmate!" he exclaimed, his features beaming excitedly. You had lost... but it was worth it, to see him like this. Not so often did Diluc allow anyone to see him this way. You wished to capture him -- to save the image inside your head forever and relay it over and over again. He noticed your expression and was quick to compose himself. "[Y/N]? Why are you smiling like a fool for?"

"I had a lot fun," you whispered.

He nodded, patting his hair down nervously. "I did too. You weren't lying there. You play a good, mean game of chess."

"You know the knight you used to checkmate my queen?" you pointed out. "That's you. The Darknight hero."

"Oh, don't even start," he groaned, rolling his eyes. You giggled, until eventually he couldn't help but be amused as well. 

The two of you stared at each other with soft smiles and pounding hearts, aligning by the crackle of flames.

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Breakfast Blues. (Shigaraki x f!Reader, NSFWish)

Tomura could tell something was off as soon as he entered the kitchen. Your smile felt a little too forced, your eyes a little too hopeful as you plated a bowl of rice and eggs for him, hesitating for a moment to speak. It put him in a sour mood. He didn't like having to pry answers from you.

He usually managed to swipe his breakfast away and go back to his room for privacy, but you were making this increasingly difficult for him lately. It started with inane attempts to get him into conversations with you, which really was a stupid idea, given the fact that he never mustered more than a few grunts in the morning. His growling stomach initially helped fighting you off, but you seemed to have a backbone today.

Gripping the dishes in hand, you offered him a meek smile and asked, "Would you like to eat together?"

His eyes narrowed as he frowned. "Why?" his voice croaked out, scratchy and unpleasant from disuse.

"I just thought it would be nice. You're busy a lot, so ... "

"So?" Your confidence faltered under his scrutinizing stare. Something about your dying smile made him even more irritated, or perhaps confused. And he did not like feeling confused. "I'm hungry, woman."

Sensing his displeasure, you wordlessly handed over the breakfast and looked away. Under different circumstances, Tomura liked teasing you in this state. So secretive and cute, your lips set in a stubborn pout and your chin cast downwards for him to inevitably grip and force your attention back to him.

But he was so damn hungry and he had a game loaded on his computer for his return.

Tomura turned to leave, having decided he waited enough for your comeback. It was only the glaring absence of your shuffling feet and the tinkering of cookware that made him pause for a split second at the threshold. Just a quick glance to satiate his curiosity.

You stood exactly where he left you, still looking away, hands wringing together without anything else to hold. Defeated and hurt. The sting of negative emotions welled up inside him so suddenly that he immediately took off, wishing he had a free hand to scratch his neck.

-

No amount of homecooked breakfast or countless wins could erase his lingering discontent. Tomura tried to ignore that strange encounter with you, burying his thoughts in strategies and shit-talking as he let the time slip away. But try as he might, he just couldn't shake it off. Throwing aside his game console, Tomura leered at the clock and slumped in his chair, annoyed at the realization that you hadn't visited him this whole time.

You were nowhere to be found in the apartment. A cursory glance at his phone showed him a single text from you. I'm going out with Toga. Be back later.

You didn't even send him a heart emoji.

It was a stupid thing to set him off. Everything about today was stupid. You were stupid, he was stupid, his damn neediness was stupid, even the breakfast bowls he brought to the sink were stupid. What kind of world was this, where he, Shigaraki Tomura, successor of Japan's most dangerous criminal, brought his dishes to the kitchen and moped about a goddamn heart emoji.

He needed a drink.

-

It was a testament to his bad mood that Tomura chose to walk all the way to the bar instead of asking Kurogiri to warp him there. His eyes scanned the streets in a vain attempt to track you down among the crowd, but you were nowhere to be found and he was growing anxious by the minute.

Tomura kicked the door open and hopped the counter to pilfer the expensive liquor stash. His taste gravitated towards the most expensive rum in the collection. He could certainly chase his sorrows away with cheap swill or rubbing alcohol, but if he was going to torture his body tonight, then he would do so with style. It was all worthless in the end, anyway.

He sat by himself for who knows how long. It was utterly pathetic and he knew he had better things to do, yet every time he tried to pull himself away from the counter, his head spun uncomfortably and the amber liquid beckoned him towards a numbing buzz. His phone lay abandoned on the counter, having been checked several times for a text or a phone call from you.

You hadn't even called to find out where he was. He had half a mind to wonder if you would walk through the door to surprise him, but there were only so many times he could glance at the door before the urge to disintegrate it took hold. He grabbed the rum bottle instead, messily pouring more liquor into his glass as he ignored the distortion of the air in front of him. He was in no state of mind to stare straight into Kurogiri's spinning portal. The very thought of it made him slam the bottle down and hold onto it for dear life to compose himself.

Kurogiri appeared behind the bar, quietly assessing the state of his charge. He pulled out a rag to mop up spilled liquor and eyed Tomura's heavy movements as he let go of the rum and took the glass in a white-knuckled grip.

"You are alone."

Tomura grunted, taking a swig to avoid conversation. His guardian was smart enough to immediately pick up his mood. It was both annoying and reassuring to see those golden eyes narrow in astute observation.

"It is rare for your lover to be absent."

"..."

A moment of silence. "Forgive me for being presumptuous, but you seem to be more upset than usual."

Tomura snorted. "Yeah, no shit." He stared at the rum glass in frustration, glaring at the alcohol as though it had personally offended him. His fingertips curled around the rim as he lifted the glass and swirled the liquid around, irate at the stretching silence. It was bad enough he had to deal with your petulant absence. Now he had to endure Kurogiri's calm patience, too.

His fingers gripped the glass tighter as he contemplated satisfying his urge to decay, to give him some form of release from the frustration currently plaguing him. The blaring noise of his video games would be a welcome respite from this silence. Instead, he was forced to nurse a headache while Kurogiri made him feel like a child.

All because of you. You had a hold on him even when you were gone. Perhaps even more poignant because you were gone.

"It's fucking dumb," Tomura grumbled. And it was. The situation was so unbelievably ridiculous that he clammed up again, unable to voice his problems lest he fly into a rage over the mental image of your sorrowful eyes and quivering bottom lip.

"What happened?"

"I don't even know. She's been acting weird the past week and it all blew over this morning." His leg jittered restlessly against the footrest. He crossed his leg over his thigh to regain some semblance of control, letting out a sharp sigh as he scratched his neck. "I just wanted some damn breakfast. That's all. And that woman stood there looking like I broke up with her just because I didn't want to eat with her."

"Were you doing something important?"

Oh, he did not like that question. He did not like it one bit.

"I was in the middle of gaming," Tomura growled through clenched teeth. "Don't even try to bitch at me about it."

"That was not my intention. I know how important your lifestyle is to you." Tomura stared at him, feeling his anger somehow slip through the cracks and fizzle away. Kurogiri took the whiskey bottle beside him and poured more into the emptying glass. "Has this happened before?"

"No. Sometimes she tried to keep me there longer with dumb small-talk, but she's never flat out asked. And the damn look on her face when I - " Tomura cut himself off with a frustrated growl. Your defeated expression haunted him once more. He downed the liquor in one go and reveled in the horrible burn tearing his throat apart. "What the hell does she want from me?" he forced out, staring hard into the distance as a sudden sense of shame stabbed him like a knife.

"If I may speculate ... " Kurogiri paused, waiting for his rebuke. When none came, an answer followed. "You are often preoccupied throughout the day. Perhaps she simply misses you and craves your attention."

Tomura opened his mouth and promptly closed it. A bout of dizziness hit him. Was it the alcohol or the crashing realization of how obvious the answer had been?

The logic of Kurogiri's statement was so absurdly simple that it had to be true. Because you really were just so simple. Uncomplicated in your motives, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, and always so flagrantly loving and patient with him. Tomura looked away from Kurogiri, hating how well his guardian knew not only him, but you, too.

A little flame of happiness kindled deep inside him, threatening to chase away the darkness of his bitter emotions. You hadn't been difficult on purpose this morning. You just wanted to spend time with him.

His bleary gaze settled on the monitor resting at the other end of the bar. How would his mentor react to this situation?

The silence coming from the monitor felt altogether different from what he experienced so far. It was uncomfortable and imposing, filling his ears with white noise and clouding his thoughts. Tomura stared at his reflection in the black screen and frowned, hyper-aware of the way his eyes had softened while he thought about you, the way he looked so boyish and tired.

Look at what she is turning you into, the screen seemed to say.

"Shigaraki Tomura." He tore his gaze away from his reflection and met Kurogiri's expressionless face. "Is it a weakness to enjoy feeling wanted?"

His brows furrowed in thought.

-

Tomura made up with you in the most typical fashion. That is to say, he cornered you at home and snuffed out any further talk by devouring your lips with incessant kisses, taking you right on the living room couch and stalking after you to your bedroom for more. It was a love language he knew best, letting you feel his feverish desire with every deep thrust, the firm iron grip of his hands on your soft hips and thighs, his groans and whispered demands for more of you, more of your tight heat and your gentle fingers outlining his scars, touching his rough lips, nails digging into his back as you mewl for more of him.

You were hellfire. There was no liquor strong enough in the world to burn him half as much as his need to tell you he loved you. The words clawed and tore at his chest, inflamed his throat until he choked on them, forcing him to spit out twisted versions of the truth. Cowardly, pathetic half-truths about how you belonged to him, how you were his and his alone.

And you still smiled at him for it. You took all that he gave you and asked for so little in return.

Is it a weakness to enjoy feeling wanted?

The question plagued him throughout the night as your arms held him close, his head pillowed on your chest while he listened to your soft breathing and felt the beat of your heart whispering an answer he could not decipher.

-

Tomura awoke to your absence. It was not a rare occurrence. The split-second paranoia washing over him was not rare, either. He ran from that feeling many times before, immediately sick at the thought of how lonely he felt without you. It was pathetic. He should not feel this way about anyone. He should feel empty, as though you were just a moment of entertainment, an experience to be had and a level to beat in the game of life.

But you were well past that point now. Whether or not he could say it aloud, Tomura was in love. So if you wanted to have breakfast together, then you had better prepare yourself for his morning attitude.

He caught you a little early this time. You were in the middle of stirring an omelette when he crept up behind you, jolting in surprise as he pressed himself to your back and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Good morning," you greeted him, giving him a peck on the cheek. A light smile played on your lips. "I'm almost done."

Tomura purred a noncommittal response and curled his fingers around your jaw, angling your head back to capture your mouth in a lazy kiss. Your pleased sigh broke off into a stilted noise as he dipped his tongue inside and made sure you felt every slow lick and suck to your lips. His arm tightened in response to you melting against him, mentally debating whether he should let you finish cooking or to find the nearest surface to defile.

A sizzling pop from the frying pan caught your attention. You kissed him hard and returned to your duty, using your spatula to roll the omelette into shape. Your tongue peaked out from your reddened lips as you made a face of mild disgust. "You didn't brush, nasty."

"Didn't stop you though," Tomura countered, grinning at your wry expression.

You spooned the cooked food onto a nearby plate and cracked another egg into the pan. He waited for your invitation, good mood dampening by the second as you settled into your routine without another word. It was an expected reaction, to be fair. He hurt you yesterday and now he was paying for it.

Your questioning glance put him on alert. "Do you need something else?"

He wracked his brain for a response. Something that could keep him here longer without raising further suspicion. "Orange juice."

"It's in the fridge. Can you pour me some, too?"

Tomura forced himself to detach from you, taking his time to complete the task as he watched your progress from the corner of his eye. Cups placed on the table. Orange juice poured at a strategically slow rate. By the time he finished, your breakfast had been plated and you left it unattended to hurriedly put the forgotten box of eggs back into the fridge. Tomura used this distraction to take both plates to the table, setting yours across from him as he plopped down onto the chair and began to eat.

You caught on as soon as the fridge door closed. Tomura could feel your stare on him while he downed the orange juice. He glanced at you nonchalantly, eyebrow raised as though you were the one behaving abnormally.

"You're joining me?" you asked, a hint of hope coloring your voice as you sat down.

"Clearly."

You smiled so sweetly that he felt his heart stammer and restart. "Wow. Can I get you to eat some fruits while we're at it?"

"Don't push your luck," he grumbled, and that was the end of that.

Tomura silently listened to your happy chatter and the clanging of silverware on plates, wondering how the hell he found himself in domestic bliss. Sunlight streamed through the nearby window and illuminated your entire being, heightening your inner glow. You looked beautiful and peaceful. It calmed him far more than you could ever know.

Did he feel weak as he basked in your attention? Did he feel weak, knowing that you wanted him beside you even for the most mundane things?

The answer was undeniable.

He felt strong.

Different from the power trip he thrived on when he succeeded in yet another level.

Different from the sadistic glee he felt when the nomu followed his command.

Different from the sense of duty plaguing his mind when his teammates looked to him for direction.

This inner sense of peace steadied his mind and cleared his thoughts. How could it be weakness when he would tear the world apart for you?

The soft tap of your foot on his knee drew his attention to you. "This was nice," you softly said. "Next time I'll leave a trail of takoyaki outside your room so you can join me for lunch."

He huffed a dry laugh. "Make me botamochis and you got yourself a deal."

"You'll eat sweets made from red beans but not a single fruit ... " You innocently popped another strawberry into your mouth. "Not even these strawberries ... "

"Get over here and give me a taste then," he growled, settling back in his chair with a clear invitation of his own.

You accepted without delay.

[moinstar]

Moin MC x Diavolo (self-indulgent fic)

The hallways echoed with the inconsistent sound of heels clopping against tiles. The young human slowed in her steps, leaning against the wall. Some of her reddish bangs had been plastered on her sweaty forehead and she had closed her eyes as she took another deep breath. She swallowed heavily and clutched at her chest. Her rapid heartbeat pounding on her ears: making the quiet hallway deafening to her. She tried to keep the tears from falling as she walked slowly towards the nearby restroom, her thoughts spiraled with a raging storm.

(I know that I wasn't like them. I have a lot to learn. Why does the professor need to single me out and make me feel dumb?)

(Mammon's also not listening, why am I the one getting all the laughs and mockery? Is it because I'm human?)

(I'm trying to study silently and just pass this year without any issues. I want to live peacefully. But I guess not all demons are actually good. I mean, they're demons for fuck's sake. I should've know better.)

(Why, of all people, did I get picked anyways? Solomon is a sorcerer, I'm not. I'm not special. I've always been a second option. Maybe they made a mistake and I'll just be brought back to the human realm soon. Or, maybe they'll eat me afterwards since I knew about the demon realm?)

(I'm just average. Lucifer will get disappointed. Lord Diavolo will be disappointed. Everyone thinks of me as a potential food. I just wish they'd just get over it and eat me now. I'm just a burden. I never wanted this. I don't know who to live for.)

As her knees buckled and her tears fell, a warm chest cushioned her fall. Fearing that her wish might've been heard, she gasped and struggled to get out of the person's hold. Through her blurry vision, everywhere was red and a bit of black and gold.

"-ay?" The voice was inaudible as she fought to regain her senses. However, the deafening sound of her heartbeat got too painful so she clutched her chest to try and regulate her breathing. The person stood in front of her and hesitantly patted her back, running his warm hands to her tensed shoulders.

"-in... -oin..."

(Please let me die. Please let me die. Please eat me. Please let me be. I want to disappear. I don't want to think about anything else.)

"Breathe." His firm hand rested by her left jaw. His large palm cradling her neck up to her jaw, fingers tangled to her wet red locks. He was letting her hold his other hand in a tight grip, providing an anchor.

He patiently waited as she tried to breathe normally. His hand left her face and massaged the one that was gripping at his, continuously speaking encouraging words.

As soon as she regained her normality, she recognized the young prince kneeling in front of her with a worrying look in his eyes. He was still massaging the hand that was gripping his.

"Have you calmed down, Moin?" His soothing voice made her alarmed.

"I-I-I... I'm s-sorry. I was... I'm sorry for the trouble, s-sir," she stuttered as she tried to stand up but her legs wouldn't move from the numbness that overtook while sitting by the hallway.

"What happened? Did someone hurt you?"

She shook her head. She wanted to explain more but the stuttering made her feel ridiculous. She slowly withdrew her hand and clutched it to the hem of her coat. The tingle of warmth subsides and she almost wanted to hold his hand again. Almost.

"Are you sure?" She nodded, looking away and hid her tear-streaked eyes behind her bangs.

Diavolo stood up and offered a hand. She took it but her body felt heavy and numb that she barely lifted herself.

"I... I..." Her face shifted to terror, afraid of being stuck sitting in the hallway in a weakened state, unable to protect herself from demons who would harm her.

"I'll take you to the infirmary. You're not well." Just as he was about to lift her up, she shook her head and leaned away from his arms. He was about to ask why but she beat him to it.

"Back... I look h-horrible so can you... carry me on your back?"

She didn't want anyone to look at her even more. Her anxiety of being seen by the prince himself in this weakened state doubled.

(What if Lord Diavolo thinks I'm not fit for this program anymore? Is he going to discard me somewhere?)

(Ahhh! I'm so embarrassed. I got tears and snot all over. I look ugly. The prince will definitely think I'm disgusting. Who breaksdown in the middle of classes anyway?)

He turned, his backside facing her, and said, "Can you manage?"

She wiped her tears and sniffed, nodding and crawled towards him. Grabbing his shoulders, she dragged herself towards his back and encircled her arms by his neck. He grabs her thighs and positioned it on his sides as he slowly stood carefully. She tightened her grip, feeling like she didn't properly situated herself on his back. Diavolo bounced her once to fix her position and she yelped as she buried her face to the soft cape connecting to the back of his collar.

"I apologize. You were falling." He looked over his shoulder to check to see if she was okay. Her face was still buried and she inhaled deeply at his comforting scent.

Receiving no response from her, he started walking down the hallway.

"Thank... you." She breathed as his rocking steps lulled her to slumber.

The prince smiled at that, glad to know he helped her in a way. As he rounded the corner, he almost bumped into Lucifer.

"Diavolo! Where have you-"

He shushed him before the black haired man could even yell more at him. Lucifer raised an eyebrow and shifted his look to the person he's carrying on his back.

"Moin? Why is she sleeping on your back?"

"She wasn't well when I saw her. I didn't know what happened but she was in distress. I got her to calm down and now I'm taking her to the infirmary to be checked up." He whispered as he continued to walk. Lucifer catching up to his side.

He studied her puffy eyes and sweaty face. It wasn't the composed girl he used to see in his day by day. The Moin he knew was always smiling and naive. Even amidst the chaotic banters and conversations that he and his brothers have, she's the only person who stood quietly, listening to each and every person's voice. To him, he thinks she's like a lighthouse among the raging storm by the sea. And now, looking at her weakened state, that image crumbled along with it. He wasn't disappointed, per se. He was surprised that he got to see a new side of her that she wouldn't normally show to them.

"Lucifer, can you put her to bed?"

Diavolo's voice snapped him out of his trance and immediately prepared the bed. As he turned to get her off of the prince's back, he took a moment to wipe her dried tears. Lucifer proceeded to hook his arms behind her head then under her thighs and carried her gently to the bed. This is the first time he held her close but, for some reason, it didn't feel comfortable.

At the back of his mind, a long lost memory began to nudge his thoughts.

"We still need to take care of things, Diavolo." He rose and reached for his phone. "I'll message Mammon so he can watch over Moin for the time being."

The man in the red uniform approached the sleeping human. Touching her forehead, he couldn't make out if she's feeling feverish but her sweat never ceased forming. He unbuttoned her coat and carefully removed it on her person. After hanging her coat, he proceeded to tuck the blanket just until under her chin. With one last look at her form, he went out of the room.

"She's very diligent, no?" It wasn't a question. Merely to compliment her in front of the stoic man while on their way.

Lucifer hummed in approval. "My brothers had taken a liking to her. I appreciate the extra hand in keeping them in line."

"And? Haven't you also taken a liking to her too? Whenever she's around, there's gentleness around you."

He huffed. "Do you want me to be harsh to them? What are you implying?"

Diavolo's golden eyes gaze upon his red ruby ones, as if searching for an answer. The momentary silence made Lucifer glance at his companion.

"She's tolerable. Aside from her ever wandering curiousity that puts her into trouble, I... don't really dislike her."

The young prince smiled, quite happy even with the curt reply.

(Quite the growing family.) He thought as he gazed at his left hand, indented with half moons on his ring finger.

[yan-twst]

Hi there! You think you can write the reactions of the dorm leaders finding out that the only way their s/o can go back to their world is to die? And at this point of time their s/o is already dead. Please don't write for this ask if you feel uncomfortable. Thank you!

warnings: death mentions, just sad shit lol

riddle rosehearts

he crumbles. his air of authority, his usual strictness, his taste for sweets; it crumbles. he’s reduced to a crying mess for days

he tries to find some relief in knowing, technically, his lover is fine, back at home. that they’re alive, just somewhere so far away from him, somewhere where he can’t see them. they’re not dead- but...

he can’t shake the image of them in a casket. of them dying. crowley assures him that they returned home, that “dying” here for them was just the way to return, but it does very little to soothe him

how is he supposed to be calm? to take it all in stride?

they are alive, somewhere else. but they’re so far away, they’re somewhere he can’t even look at. he tells himself it’s better this way, they’re out there living; but it’s hard. they feel like they’re gone, and it’s because they are, just not in the way he was originally grieving for

to riddle, finding a partner was just another escape. an escape like NRC is, like the unbirthday parties are, like his dorm leader activities are, escapes from the fact he must return home once vacations come and he must bend to his mother’s will once again- and his lover being ripped away from him has him in shambles

riddle has never been one to make wishes upon stars or to believe in those silly wishing charms children play with, but he begins to silently wish to see his lover just once more. he feels selfish, he feels horrible- they’re back home and he wants to once again rip them out of their world and bring them into his, but he can’t help it

he consoles himself by thinking of them. how are they doing? did their friends back home miss them? maybe the people back in their world thought they were dead and suddenly they returned- much like how he thought they’d passed away until he was told they were alive back at home

that’s what he holds onto. they’re alive, out there- they aren’t entirely gone, even if he held their cold corpse in his hands, somewhere out there in another world entirely their heart still beats

leona kingscholar

is this a fucking joke? is this truly how things are? is he supposed to celebrate? yay, his lover isn’t actually dead, they’ve just been tossed back into their world of origin by the virtue of dying in leona’s world?

how is that any consolation? they’re gone, one way or another

it’s not like being told “hey! you might have thought your lover died but they actually were taken away by the same weird unexplained magic that brought them here, but they just had to die to return and somehow nobody knew this, and this information is only getting to you after a couple days of grieving their death” is suddenly going to fix anything

he’s bitter. can’t he have anything? not the throne, not the people’s respect, not love?

they might be home- but they’re about as good as dead, aren’t they? it’s not like this was a planned return, not as if they’d known it would happen. not like he had time to prepare, time to say goodbye, to even try to prepare for their departure, leave alone having to believe they were dead

it wasn’t a departure. it was them being ripped away from him. and now they’re gone forever, and not even the fucking headmaster who’s supposed to be this wise and powerful figure can even figure out how they got here or how they left upon their death

it takes time for the wound to heal. while knowing they’re technically back home doesn’t soothe him much, it does calm his soul somewhat; they aren’t a cold corpse, his last memory of bidding farewell to their cold corpse isn’t their last moment, they’re back where they belong

he doesn’t seem to hold any hope to see them again. but he can make an effort to try and reminisce about their time together- to think of anything but their cold corpse, of their lack of pulse- trying to match his mental image to how he imagines they’re living back at home, where they’re still alive

azul ashengrotto

he can’t take it. azul just retreats- he can’t function, not like this

when he’s told that while his darling died, they technically returned home, he tries so hard to take that as good news, he really does

curled up in his bed, eyes puffy with tears, body weak from not leaving his bed, he tries to force himself to think that’s good news. it has to be good news, he has to be happy over it-

but in reality, he can’t. how is he supposed to take that?! he loved them, he wanted to be with them, spend time with them; and now he’s never going to even see them again, never get to hold them, never hear their reassuring voice when he has a bad day

his guilt and overall grief just double, if anything. he should be happy- but he can’t. he can’t be happy about the fact they’re back home, he just can’t celebrate it, and so his grief mounts

is this truly it? he falls in love, spends time, builds a relationship, and then they die and he mourns only to then be told it was actually somehow meant to happen and it was the way for them to return to their world? that’s how it all ends?

it truly takes a long while for him to compose himself- long weeks, months pass and he’s not quite well. he doesn’t know if he’ll be. he can’t bring himself to throw away the funeral flowers, can’t bring himself to go back to his daily life

it’s a slow and painful process, and all he can do is hope his lover isn’t going through something similar. he tells himself that the last thing he’d want is for them to be back home, mourning him like this and unable to live, so he has to be strong. for them, even though they’re no longer where he can reach them

kalim al-asim

kalim tries so hard to take it all and run with it, to keep a positive attitude. perhaps that’s why the image of him sobbing at the “funeral” was so heartwrenching, and perhaps that’s why when crowley pops up informing that even though his lover did die, this was actually the correct way to return them to their world, kalim tries so hard to take in the information

absolutely everyone can tell he’s broken. everyone can see the dried tears on his cheeks, the way his eyes are puffy and red. at nights, those with dorms close to him can hear him cry. but then he goes and acts like it’s fine, saying they’re ok! they went back home! haha, i hope they’re having fun!

it’s as if he’s not allowing himself to grieve, telling himself he has no right to mourn because they’re alive, even though he clearly needs to, needs to find a healthy way to air out his emotions

but he doesn’t. he’s trying to immediately shove down the horror and overwhelming despair of his lover’s death and try to celebrate their return home, trying to ignore his own wounds to lighten the mood

it’s painful to watch, but there’s not much to do. what can even be done? there’s no guide on how to help someone in this situation; usually it’s him gently giving help to others, encouraging them to confront their emotions, but when it comes to himself he seems to just be letting his own grief and sadness eat him alive

kalim never forgets them. he always brings them up- when he sees their favourite food, when he sees a bench they liked to sit in, when he sees a colour they liked. it’s as if he’s reassuring himself they aren’t truly dead, as if he’s promising himself that if he can keep their memory fresh it’ll be as if they aren’t as far away from him as they are

vil schoenheit

the scariest part of vil’s mourning is that he shows nobody his weakness. during the funeral, he barely sheds tears, despite his hands shaking from how hard he’s clutching the edges of his lover’s casket, during his mourning he always seems to be composed despite his makeup telling he’s been crying and hastily attempting to touch it up

... he wishes he could say finding out his lover didn’t truly die eased the pain. it did, in a sense- but it just brought on a different kind of pain

he can’t just mourn, he can’t grieve his loss like a normal person. everyone’s eyes are on him, his job requires for him to keep a good public image; every day he has to fix himself, has to try and make his very clearly exhausted and tear stained face look appropriate

he tries to cling onto the fact they’re alive like a mantra. they’re alive back at home they didn’t truly die they’re ok they’re alive back at home; he repeats it in his head like a mantra, trying to keep himself from just breaking down while going on about his daily life

but it’s just not enough. he can’t help but drown in grief, drown in the “what ifs”. did they even want to go back? do they regret not getting to say goodbye? were they scared when they took their last breath here? did they think of him in his last moments here? do they think of him?

... would they have stayed if they’d had a choice?

it just tears him apart. there’s no way to know; he’s just hurting himself by asking those questions. there’s no point- they might be alive, but they’re still gone, realistically speaking.

all he can do is try to lose himself in his routines, try to not think as much as possible. try to just lock the memories that bring him warmth and ignore everything else- the death the what-ifs the distance between them- so he can function

idia shroud

it’s his fault. it has to be, somehow. idia has to be practically ripped away from his lover’s corpse, as his mind still can’t process what happened- no, he can- he can save them, he can bring them back, he can...!

he can’t.

they didn’t belong here, crowley says. their death isn’t a real death, it’s just their return to their world, where they’re supposed to be. there’s no bringing them back, not with any magic or any technology

and idia just breaks. 

isolated in his own room, he doesn’t allow anyone to get close. not even his own brother can seem to get to him; idia seems to act like a corpse, just laying in bed, trying to ignore the world. he’s not touching his videogames, not even trying to take care of himself, it’s as if he’s shutting out everything to drown in his own grief and regret

there’s no comfort in knowing that his lover returned home; it’s as good as them being dead for him, isn’t it? he can’t even try to fake being happy they’re home, because fuck, they were just- just ripped away from the life they’d built here so violently, they’d been here one day and the next they were lifeless, thrown back to the world they’d come from with no chance to even say goodbye

people worry for him. he’s not ok, and by the way things look, it doesn’t seem like he wants to be ok, letting himself waste away. ortho worries, despairs, begs for others to try to help, but what can they do? just show up and go “hey man, sorry about your significant other and like, only person you were truly close to passing away but not really because they got sent back to their world where you can never see them again, want a snack?”

it truly takes a lot to help him, and honestly it’ll take much more for him to go back to “normal”. he isn’t a stranger to mourning, but this loss, this emptiness is something he knows he can’t shake away- usually he’d turn to his lover for help when he fell into a spiral of negativity, but haha how funny of life to rip away his support system like that!

in the end, all he can do is slowly try to piece himself together; if not for him, for those who care about him; mainly for ortho. he knows the younger shroud was also attached to his lover, and so he slowly tries to do his best to comfort him, and in the process heal his shattered heart perhaps just enough to function once again

malleus draconia

there’s never quite been a storm as rough sweeping over the entire school. the clouds heavy with rain and thunder as malleus weeps and mourns, his emotions overwhelming him and turning into raw anger at the world itself while lilia desperately tries to calm him down before he causes serious damage

he’d always known they’d die one day- humans live less than fae, he knew that much. but he’d expected more time, he’d expected years. decades. and instead he got some months of happiness and love and then he was holding their corpse as it slowly grew colder

he rages and cries until he tires himself out. he doesn’t even know what he’s angry at- perhaps at crowley for not finding an alternate way home or for not letting malleus’ lover know of the dangers that lurk? perhaps at himself for not protecting his lover? or at the world itself for ripping away the first person he’s cared for in this way in such a violent manner?

the fact they’re “back home” means nothing to him. they’re gone- gone, out of his grasp. once malleus collapses, exhausted, it looks as if a beast had rampaged through NRC

he throws himself into trying to at least contact them. he’s powerful; he’s one of the best wizards there is- so how come he can’t even catch a glimpse of his beloved back in their homeworld? are they truly so far away from him?

dragon fae live for centuries upon centuries; and they mourn for years. after all, a year isn’t much time for malleus- and he couldn’t even bask in his beloved’s presence for that long- and it’s certainly not enough to heal the wounds in his heart

all he can do is try to wait, wait for the pain to subside; and meanwhile he’ll just suffer. the mere thought of his beloved is enough to make magic crackle in the air as emotions flood him, his guards and lilia running to his side to try and make him calm down

malleus doesn’t need sleep, but he forces himself to do so, just so he can dream of them. that’s as much as he can do. he’ll live for centuries, for years upon years: once everyone else is gone, only him and lilia will remember his beloved. he doesn’t want to forget them, doesn’t want their image to disappear.  if they truly are alive back in their world, then he promises to keep their memory alive here in his world

[necros-writing-stuff]

Saw that abo you did where leighton is made to watch Eden wreck PC 👀 good stuff, good stuff. Going along with the thought that lil bitch leighton went to school with Eden and Bailey, and they bullied the shit outta him, perhaps could we get:

Eden and Bailey being told by the PC they share, crying their little eyes out, about leighton forcing all of the students to let him take nudes of them. That after they ran from the class room, he forced them to detention and spanked them.

Protective/possessive behavior is so fucking hot and those two ooze it (when bailey fucking wants to the twa-)

This is straight up me writing Leighton getting beat so Leighton hate gang come get y'all juice I guess

The school is quiet as Leighton steps out back to his car, students eager to disappear for the weekend. The end of term was approaching, leaving the man with stacks of paperwork that were rather stressful. Tedious, easy, but stressful.

What he least expects is seeing Bailey and Eden stood waiting for him - they both look as rugged as they always have. Bailey with his leaner muscles and tattoos, cigarette smoke rising as he takes a drag. Eden in his old, patched clothes, larger frame permanently adorned with a frown. It brings back uncomfortable memories of the two tormenting him in this very school.

"What do you two want?" Leighton pauses, clutching his work bag a little tight. Eden lives out in the woods like some feral animal now, why was he in town? Bailey could be here for an orphan, but the other? Strange.

The caretaker drops his cigarette, using the tip of his shoe to crush the bud. "You've been pushing you weight where we don't want it, Toad. Need a word."

Leighton flinches hearing the old nickname. Toad. Because he'd been so scared of getting beaten by these two he'd sweat when they were around, looking 'slimy'. But he was an adult now. So he stood composed, smoothing his expensive suit down and nodding.

"Very well. Please, my office," he keeps his voice calm and level. What could it be? As far as he's aware, everything has been business as usual? Eden glaring at the back of his head sure isn't helping. Dear God, are those more scars? What a brute.

Stepping into his office, he keeps the door open for the men to step through. Politeness, poise. Civility. This doesn't have to be like it used to be, Leighton ending up limping home, abdomen covered in bruises from their fists.

The door closes and Leighton's heart spikes because one of them grabs him from behind. It's Bailey, roughly pinning his arms and pulling on his neatly styled hair. Before he can yell out, Eden pulls back his fist, aiming straight for his gut and making him double over, air knocked form his lungs - and he's manhandled into his seat.

Struggle as hard as he wants, Leighton can't break free of their grips, can't stop regressing in his head to the scared little boy he used to be. Even as his arms are bound. He's sweating again, isn't he?

"Password," Bailey demands, crouching down so he can look up into panicked green eyes.

Leighton stutters it out, shame filling him at how easy he gave in. He was past this, he was an adult, a successful adult, and these two were still just horrible bullies that were here to ruin and torment him. It's not fair, it's not!

The tapping of a keyboard is interrupted with the crack of his jaw being hit with a large fist. Eden, again. The man hadn't said anything, and to be honest he hoped he stayed quiet. When the man did speak, it was mostly to deal threats that he had rarely lied about.

"Where do you keep your little photography collection? And you best give us all of them, or we'll strip you and tie you to the gate like we used to. Pretty sure I saw that Whitney kid smoking out there just now, think they'd like to have some fun time with dear old teacher?" Bailey's words make his blood freeze in his veins. Anything but that. Anything but letting Whitney have a way to abuse him

"... File called 'decorative ideas'," Leighton wheezes out, still trying to get his breath back from the punch. No one gave a shit about the decor of the school, no one would bother to check the real contents.

Bailey hums, clicking around until the file appears. As the computer whirrs, images of students in debauched positions, lewd poses and sometimes tearful faces load in. Eden swears when one set in particular loads.

"They weren't lying," the gruff man seethes, fists clenching in a way that makes Leighton nauseous. It was just that pretty one, the one with the good grades. The prudish one he'd had to blackmail to get those racy photos of them covered in suds washing his car.

The ones of you bent over his lap, ass red-raw were the best. You shouldn't have called him a dirty old pervert, should have just bent over and let him get a nice shot of your hole while you cleaned.

Bailey starts deleting the images, tutting as he clicks and drags. "You see, Toad, this one here is ours," he pauses on an image of you covering your naked body with your hands, refusing to look in the camera. Leighton wants to vomit. He knew you were an orphan, but so had plenty of the others. What would make you different? Unless-

Another punch, this time from the tattooed man, and there's no break in between as both men begin pummeling into his bound, helpless body. Pain blooms in his ribs, jaw, browbone - and there's a kidney shot in there, if he's not mistaken.

He hacks up a ball of spit, a little blood within the mix, attempting to suck in air. He can't breath, can't defend himself, can only take the onslaught. Can only start to numb as he remembers being used like this as a child. As their personal punching bag.

Bitterness wells up in his chest. He had thought he had changed in his maturity. Turns out he was wrong.

"Are those the only ones?" Eden grasps him by the hair, pulling his head back in a way that strains his neck.

It's hard to wheeze out the yes, but he is let go, flopping in his chair like a rag doll. Breathing, that's all he has to focus on. Deep one in, hold for a few seconds, and release. Stay calm. Don't piss yourself like you used to.

Eden starts rifling around the draws of his office as Bailey ensures the pictures are wiped from the computer, a little slow and clumsy. Stupid fuck barely even knows how to use modern technology, it seems, but he knows enough to find the proper way to get rid of it all.

Eden returns with his camera. His expensive, lovely camera, placing it on the desk before getting a hammer from his inside pocket.

"N-no!" Leighton yells out in vain as the hammer smashes down, mangling the expensive equipment. Eden doesn't stop at one, continuously wrecking the device with a personal vendetta. Even the memory card within was shattered.

When he's done, the hunter turns back towards the headmaster, still bound to his own chair. He's not gentle as he lifts his chin with the claw of the hammer.

"You even look at them again and we'll come back and I'll shove this in your fucking eye socket, do you understand?"

Leighton nods, determined to keep eye contact as he does so. He has cowered enough, he could try to save some face now by not begging or crying.

The binds start coming loose, but Leighton can't move. Can only wilt, mind beginning to disassociate. He thinks he hears the two men moving to the door. Thinks he hears the caretaker calk back "Later, Toad," before the door slams shut.

The clock on his wall is unreasonably loud, now he's alone.

[rk1kheadcanons]

Markus and Connor are secret dating b/c Connor doesn't wanna be out to the world yet. The Jericrew (-Connor) go drinking and Markus gets *drunk* and starts rambling about his boyf after he rebuffs an advance made by a lady at the bar super sappily, but no matter how hard the others press him, they just get "oh, his eyes are the color of warm chocolate..." answers as to who this boyf is

You would never know Markus was drunk.

He didn’t stutter or slur when he spoke, he didn’t sway or trip over his feet. He didn’t giggle goofily or speak overly loud. He was perfectly composed, as much the charismatic android sober as he was when he was intoxicated.

What he did do, however, was go on long monologues like a Shakespearian stage actor.

Which would be fine, if Markus’ favorite subject to wax poetic about wasn’t his mysterious boyfriend, whom he’d sworn not to reveal the identity of until they were ready. Which would also be fine, if that mysterious boyfriend wasn’t Connor, who was often sitting right next to him (and slowly but surely bluescreening his way into that big Windows XP wallpaper in the sky) as he sang and lathered compliment after compliment, steadily giving away clues that were so blatant that it was a miracle that no one had figured them out yet.

Markus never remembered what he’d done the next day, and whenever Connor mercilessly played back his memories, his poor lover was as embarrassed as he was apologetic. Connor could hardly begrudge him (frankly he didn’t know what sane person on this planet could ever begrudge Markus, but that was just Connor’s correct opinion). What could they even do about it? Should he demand Markus consciously control himself? It wasn’t like Connor was any better at it. Give the RK800 too many AMB’s (Adios Motherboards) and he would be on top of the nearest table and scream-singing his every professionally repressed emotion, regardless if it was a karaoke bar or not. Hence why he never imbibed more than he could handle when they were around their friends. The last thing he wanted to do was sloppily propose to Markus after a long and terrible rendition of K-Ci and JoJo.

And Connor wouldn’t dream of telling Markus to measure the contents of his drink like Connor did. Not when his breaks were so rare, and getting him to relax and let loose was like pulling teeth.

It was just in the cards that their big revelation as a couple would be in a random bar at 3AM, with Markus saying something along the lines of “my boyfriend’s name starts with a C and rhymes with Donner”, and Connor had made peace with that.

“Scarlet woman!” Markus cried, at some random bar at 3AM, surrounded by their drunken comrades. Ah, would this be the night? Connor thought, on the correct side of buzzed as he watched on from the table right next to them, a heady mix of dread and amusement running through his computer soul. “Jezebel! How d a r e you solicit my happily taken hand!”

The waitress, who looked like she regretted serving their table, let alone attempting to get the number from the happily taken hand, raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she said peaceably and with the calm air of someone who dealt with drunks as a job choice, “just trying to shoot my shot, ya know?”

Markus nodded at her magnanimously, because he was a kind and forgiving man even as a drunken buffoon. “Fret not. I pardon you of this most heinous slight, for if you knew the one to own my heart, you would understand that no other could compare.”

“Sure thing dude,” she said goodnaturedly, packing up and replacing drinks around their tables expertly, and parting with a “have a good night Romeo.”

“But who can no other compare to? WHOMST??” asked North, throwing her torso onto the table and looking up at Markus pleadingly.

“We’ve ruled out Jerry #451, Claudia, Baris from accounting, and Jerry #36,” Simon rattled off. He was looking down at a napkin that he had scribbled the names of all of their potential suspects. “I’ve got it. It’s Baris.”

North rolled her eyes. “We already said it wasn’t Baris.”

“Ohhh. Right, right.” Simon nodded his head and continued to not cross off the names of the people they had decided against, as he had been doing all night.

“How about you describe them a little?” Josh put in, reasonable, and therefore slightly less wasted than everyone else. “Hair color? Height? Eyes? Something?”

“Nay, I must not speak thusly!” Markus declared, back of his hand over his forehead and everything. “For if I were to tread down that forbidden road, I would surely not be able to stop myself from breaking our sacred oath of secrecy!”

“Oh my goOOOOOOOd I hate this fucking oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath,” North threw her head back and cried to heavens, which, considering her positon, was probably going to be hell on her neck come morning. “Come on! Break your oath! Be like Thor and wield oathbreaker goddamnit!”

“You might be thinking of Stormbreaker,” Connor added, the need to try and reason with alcoholics apparently embedded in his programming.

North narrowed her eyes at him, or rather his torso, since her chin was very resolutely still resting on the table. “If you think I’m thinking right now then you are drunker than I am.”

Connor lifted his barely touched glass to her in a toast because how dare she be lucid enough to clap back so quickly. A well deserved rebuttal fucking cheers.

“Glasses!” Josh exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Do they wear glasses? That should narrow down some people.”

“That’s right! That’ll tell us if they’re an android or not. Androids don’t wear glasses! Our eyes are like...fucking...better and shit!”

“Unless….” Simon narrowed his eyes, pausing dramatically. “....they do.”

North gasped. Josh put his hands on either side of face, muttering; “holy fucking shit he’s right.”

Markus scoffed. “Their eyes do not hide behind paltry spectacles! His beautiful orbs, so soft and caring when his gaze lands upon my person, seeing into my very soul, are the warmest chocolate brown!”

‘Ah shit here we go,’ Connor thought, wishing not for the first time that he could just down his drink and join everyone else in blissful, idiotic cavorting. The soft, melodic piano and crooning words of All My Life playing over the speaker stayed his hand. Best not take any chances

“HE!” Simon burst out, tipping over in his chair. “He say he! Them is He!”

“Are we talkin’ Hershey’s or Dove?”

“Ghirardelli you fucking plebs!”

“Oi!” North banged her hand on the table so hard it left a handprint indented in the wood. It was one amongst many however, and not all of them left by their party. Such was the price for serving android drinks at a human bar - you either shelled out for sturdier furniture or the dents and chips became a charming aspect of your décor. “Don’t get spicy with us Sir Lancelot!”

“Apologies fair maiden,” Markus responded easily. He took her hand delicately and made a sweeping bow over it. “Alas, my passions got away from me.” He dropped her hand and whirled around, coat billowing with the movement and most assuredly by accident, placing both hands to his thirium pump. “Conjuring up the magnificent images that is the love of my life oft times sends my emotions into a tizzy! His hair; cloud like in my grasp as I run my fingers threw earthen chestnut tendrils - ”

‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhn so many adjectives Markus whyyyyyyyyyy,’ Connor wheezed internally. He didn’t bother trying to keep down his blush. Markus was nowhere near done laying on the compliments and he’d be subjecting himself to an endless loop of canceling the process. Besides, he could just blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol - wait no. What!? WHAT. Connor looked down at his drink and saw, to his mounting horror, that the glass was emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. Goddamn his automated rest mode cycle for transforming into fidgeting whenever he was nervous! He resolutely pushed the glass out of his immediate reach.

Nines, who was quietly sitting next to him, hunched over and taking notes on his own napkin, snapped his head up to attention when the glass brushed against his arm. His younger brother was looking from Connor to Markus, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Markus carried on. Connor didn’t like that look at all. It was always a risk inviting Nines to their little outings, the only thing Connor could bank on was Nines passing out - as his dear little bro was a notorious light weight - before his deductive skills could pierce through his drunken haze. Apparently Nines had chosen tonight of all nights, where Markus had never been more obvious about their relationship, to bloody pace himself.

If he could, Connor would be sweating bullets.

“ - a wit SO SHARP!!” Markus declared, foot now planted on his chair and shaking his fist to the ceiling as if it had insulted one of Carl’s paintings, “that neither an UNDEAD HOARD nor a POLITICIAN’S EGO could survive it’s precision strike!!”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, banger body, smarty pants, good at analyzing shit, likes animals” North listed off, holding a hand up and ticking a finger down. “Well that rules out all the Jerrys; they’re all redheads and they’re pretty aggressive about it - except for Jerry #86. Is your man-squeeze Jerry #86?”

“No no no last I heard Jerry #86 is dating Hatsume Miku’s bodyguard; Android Lucy Lawless.” said Simon.

“Tch. Lucky,” pouted North.

“Oh wow, she really kept that name huh?” Josh said, voice faint with wonder and disbelief. “That’s such a mouthful.”

“And who are you to question a Queen!?” snapped North.

“Huzzah and many blessings to the fortuitous couple!” Markus cheered, toasting a stein of frothy blue intoxication that looked as cartoonish as it did poisonous to the sky, knocking it back in several impressive gulps and slamming it back on the table. “BUT NEITHER OF THEM CAN COMPARE TO THE BEAUTY AND GRACE THAT IS MY LOVE!!” he boomed, louder and more British by the second. “WHO’S CURIOSITY AND INTELLECT A CHERISHED BOON TO I, BUT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION TO HIS ENEMIES - !”

North slapped her hand on the table several times, the proverbial light bulb lighting up in her eyes - oh. No not proverbial. There was currently little lightbulb emojis pictured in her pupils. Yet another drunken download added to the bill. Connor was glad he’d drawn the long straw on ‘irresponsible buying duty’ tonight. No doubt there would be a lot of strange receipts to sort through in the morning. “Oh! I know I know! It’s Josh!”

So startled by this declaration/accusation, Josh jumped in his seat. “What!?”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, hot, obnoxious, smart - everything FITS!”

“...he didn’t say obnoxious,” Josh muttered, then physically shook sanity back into himself. “It can’t be me. I think I’d know if I was dating Markus!”

Simon leaned in closer towards Josh, arm on the table, determination in his mien. “But what if…” Without breaking eye contact with his friend, he smoothly cracked open his Thirium berry blast bahama mama banana punch wine cooler, and proceeded to pour it just two centimeters off from his glass, all over the table. “You don’t know.”

Josh was shook in the face of this evidence. North narrowed her eyes so hard that they were just closed at this point. “Highly suspicious.”

“No. Nooooo. No? No! Of course I’m not. Right Markus?”

Markus steepled his fingers together and cackled in a way that most people would find concerning, but Connor just found it adorable. He would saving that in his memory banks. “I’ll never tell~,” he sing songed.

“H i g h l y s u s p i c i o u s.”

“I know who it is,” Nines suddenly said, calm but with such confidence that he was easily heard amidst the ruckus. He had his elbows planted on the table, chin resting upon his entwined fingers. Steele grey eyes swept over the now quiet group, everyone waiting with baited breath.

“Grant us your wisdom ‘o soothsayer,” Markus whispered, eyes wide with anticipation and literally perched on the edge of his seat. Connor seriously measured the pros and cons of just throwing his portion of the tab on the table and yeeting himself out of the window.

“It’s Sixty.”

Immediately the room erupted into scoffs and hisses of disbelief. North gave him a thumbs down and cupped her hand to her mouth, letting a long, “Booooo!”

“Why are you booing me I’m right!”

“BoooOOooOOOOOoooooo!” Markus, Josh and Simon joined in.

Connor blinked, and suddenly felt all of his concerns about Nines’ being the lynch pin in solving this mystery evaporate. If Markus transformed into a C grade Shakespeare impersonator when drunk, and Connor subconsciously wanted to be recruited by America’s Got Talent, then Nines became a consummate dumbass.

“That’s it!” North exploded. “Ten dollars says it’s Jerry #92! I caught him in a wig once!” She stood up, her chair sliding back from the force, and slammed a note on the table.

Simon also stood up with equal intensity. “Twenty says it’s Josh!” He reached into his pocket and slammed its contents onto the table. When he removed his hand six lego pieces, a My Little Pony leg, and two actual diamonds were revealed. Connor hoped dearly that the bartender cut Simon off soon.

“It’s not me!” Josh said exasperated. He paused, then pointedly pulled out some money and threw it in the pot as well. “I put forty on Brenden.”

“Bull! Shit!” North declared. “Fitness guru Brenden!? No way!”

“He fits the criteria.”

“I doubt ‘How To Tell If An Android Has Welded on Parts from China vs Russia in their Selfies’ videos on his YouTube channel is the kind analysis Markus was talking about.”

“You don’t know that! He didn’t specify...”

As the two continued to argue, with Simon chiming in with some non sequitur, and Nines tutting about these ‘ignorant fools and their blindness to the evidence presented’, Connor looked over to Markus. He was quiet. He had his elbow perched precariously on the edge of the table, his cheek resting on his fist, a small hat (that was not there literally two minutes ago) was on his head, folded from one of the bar napkins.

And he was looking at Connor as if he hung the moon and stars.

‘How could the world not already know,’ Connor thought, soft and warm inside, happy merely to be in his line of sight, ‘When he looks at me like that?’

Connor picked up his glass and lifted it. “One hundred dollars on Sixty.”

Chaos erupted. Nines threw his arms up and hooted like he’d won the super bowl. Josh tried to explain to him how that was mathematically impossible. North shook her head and warned him that he would live on the streets with an answer like that. Simon pulled out a Yu-Gi-Oh! Card and said he would give him this Charizard if he agreed with him that Josh was Markus’ secret boyfriend. Connor withheld himself from trying to convince drunk people that this was not how betting worked.

Maybe Connor shouldn’t worry so much about their relationship being discovered after all. At this rate, no one would know about he and Markus being together until the wedding invites.

[lilblog-asatreat]

Prompt: Guard on a break; petty; shimmering lilac lake

(Prompt from Roll-A-Prompt Writing Journal Boxed Set)

It's been three months since the IPRE crew escaped the animal planet, and Taako's at his limit. This world they touched down in is completely devoid of civilization again, including talking animals, which means there's virtually nothing to do except study the Light of Creation, which they recovered a few weeks ago, and interact with the only other six people alive on the planet that composed of Taako's crewmates. He's almost always in the small lab with Lup and Barry as they experiment with the Light, and the times they aren't doing that, all Lup and Barry want to do is talk about it. Magnus trains almost nonstop, (seriously, does the dude even sleep?), and it seems like the only times Taako can get away from listening to him practicing his war cry is when Lup and Barry drag him away to the lab to figure out how he came back to life. Merle keeps singing the same damn four Pan hymns while he studies the new plant life offered by the planet. (Not to mention the time Taako walked in on him alone in the bathroom with what he would assume would be a beautiful looking flower if it wasn't wrapped around his... never mind. It was an image that he wanted to burn out of his memory to say the least.) Lucretia won't stop pestering him about talking about his feelings and his past all in the name of getting an accurate account of their mission (and little else to talk about). And Davenport has convinced himself that even after three months of radio silence, that force, the Hunger as Lucretia calls it, is going to come back at any second, so he has to stand guard on the ship in case he has to shoot everyone off into the sky at the drop of a hat.

Taako is sick and tired of everyone's bullshit. He needs a break. Apparently that isn't in the cards for him though because as soon as he steps out onto the deck to try and enjoy the fresh air, Davenport stops him.

"Taako, I was just about to go looking for you. I need you to stand guard out here while I go take a breather. I've been out here for hours, and Lucretia said... I need to decompress, I guess? Anyway, I'll be back shortly."

Suddenly, Taako would rather be anywhere else than on top of the deck.

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "Davenport, my dude. If you were already talking to Lucretia, why didn't you just ask her to stand guard?"

"She wanted to go with Merle and Magnus while they forage for food. We're running low on supplies." Davenport says.

Taako frowns. "Why didn't you send me to go out and forage for food then? That's kind of what I'm best at."

"Because you're really good at sending up flares and showy magic, so you can easily send up a signal to get everyone back on board at a moments notice." Seeing Taako getting angrier, Davenport adds quickly, "They'll be fine. Besides, Merle's been studying the plant life more than you have, so he probably has a better idea of what is edible and what isn't than you do."

That does not, in fact, quell Taako's anger.

"Well thank you for acknowledging I am an elf of many talents at least, but I'll have you know Merle hasn't been so much as uh- studying the plant life as you say- as he has been fucking the plant life. So if you want to eat dirt because he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, that's fine, but don't complain to me when I can't make anything that tastes acceptable from whatever the fuck they bring back."

"Taako-"

"Just go enjoy your break. I'll be up here waiting for nothing to happen until you come back."

Taako turns his back to him in a huff, and Davenport sighs but doesn't comment. Instead, he makes his way down the plank and onto the beach of the lake they're parked on.

It's a very pretty and calming scene to look at especially while coming down from an argument. The beach is made up of grey-blue sand that seems to get softer the closer it is to the ethereal lilac water that shimmers under the glow of the setting sun. The branches of the trees and other greenery surrounding the lake sway gently in the cool breeze. Taako walks over to the railing, leans against it, and sighs, blowing a stray strand of hair out of his face. He looks down at the small form of his captain sitting cross legged at the edge of the water. He doesn't want to talk to him, but he feels like he should probably at least try to make peace. No one knows what's happening and if they'll ever get back home, and if Taako has to spend the rest of his life with only these people, he might as well not make them hate him. He sighs again before making his way down to the beach.

"Hey," Taako says as he plops down next to him.

Davenport looks up at him with a start. "Taa- I told you to-"

"It's alright my man, I left Lup in charge," Taako lies. "Listen. I'm... sorry... about what I said up there. It was a little petty of me to uh get so upset over being told to guard the ship for a few minutes and not being sent on the foraging mission. But also, Davenport..." He sighs and turns to look at his captain. He has dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes look dead tired with a glimmer of constant worry and stress. Taako feels a pang of guilt for being short with him earlier, but he ignores it. "Look. The Hunger isn't coming. At least not for a while. You've been standing up there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and it's accomplishing nothing except making you more stressed than you need to be. And uh, quite frankly, it's also really annoying and stressing me out when you're also pushing that main focus on other people. You need to relax, my dude, before you give yourself, and everyone else, an aneurism."

Davenport turns away from him to stare out at the water. "I guess... I suppose you're right. It's just been so hard not knowing what's going on or what's going to happen to us next... I'm in charge of keeping everyone together and safe and making decisions that's supposed to benefit the team and mission as a whole, and I don't know how I'm supposed to do that when... this is so far out of what I imagined this mission was going to look like."

"Yeah, I don't think being the sole survivors of two apocalypses was part of the job description."

They both laugh a little at that.

"Anyway," Davenport continues, "it's not like y'all have been making it any easier, but I know it's because no one knows how to handle this situation, so I'm not upset. It is slightly annoying listening to Magnus train at all hours of the day and night, but I can talk to him about that later. And Taako, you really need to stop stealing people's stuff and moving it around on them everytime someone annoys you." Taako starts to protest, but Davenport cuts him off at the pass. "I know you're the one taking my stool, and I have caught you hiding Lucretia's notebooks in the kitchen cabinets. It's really petty and annoying, and that shit needs to be kept at a minimum."

Taako laughs. He pulls his knees up to his chest and continues to stare out into the water. "I promise I'll stop doing that if you promise to take breaks more often and stop pushing everyone to be on guard 24/7."

"Deal."

The two of them spend the rest of the evening in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink beyond the horizon and the stars blinking into view, and the bond engine at the back of the Starblaster glows just a little bit brighter as a new bond is formed.

[xxsmokeyy]

ok so how about a story where (preferably bi) reader and levi both fall for petra and there's this competition between them as to who can win petras heart first but after petras death (or some other issue; your choice) they both mourn and bond with each other and realize that all those times they tried to outshine each other, they fell for each other instead

Levi x Petra x Bi! Reader (F) One Or The Other

genre: mild angst, fluff (healing)

summary: it’s a bit surprising that despite being rivals, both you and Levi have gotten through a lot together. before you know it, you’re already seeking refuge from one another.

tw: mentions of death

wc: 6,575

You know it’s a heck of a risk trying to aim for someone’s hand like Petra’s. She’s the entire definition of a dainty, lovely girl everybody admires, of course including you. Besides, you don’t even know if you stand a chance, not when there’s a tough guy your way.

Namely, Captain Levi.

Well, there’s another one named Oluo, but you don’t even think of him as a competition. Definitely not a threat as well.

“Hey,” you call the girl with strawberry blonde hair. She looks back at you with a smile and stands upright, wiping the sweat trickling down her neck. You watch as she tucks her hair behind both her ears to get rid of the stray fringes. Isn’t she just hot?

“Need help?” you ask, ready to give her a hand upon seeing her singlehandedly clean the stables.

“I don’t think Captain would allow that,” Petra says before petting the said man’s horse. “Am I right, big boy?” she talks to it, combing its black mane with her slender fingers. Adorable.

“One dick of a Captain we have, don’t you think?” you say, rolling your eyes heavenwards as the image of your superior passes by your mind. “Hmm, not really. I believe his austerity is right just the way it is,” she says in full decision. Of course. The one thing you don’t like about her is the way she worships the shitty Captain like some kind of noble man.

You let out a disappointed sigh, crossing your arms. “You have got to stop being a clean freak apologist, Petra. Unless you’re inlove with him or something,” you point out and take a step towards her, taking away the broomstick from her other hand.

She’s visibly spent to the bones, tending to the horses all by herself to meet the Captain’s regulations. He only always assigns one person per duty, saying soldiers should learn how to clean alone just as much as learning how to fight, which is an utterly dumb stance in your opinion.

When she blushes by your words, a small pang hits your heart. It’s just as you guessed.

Not that it’s not so achingly obvious enough these past few years, but it’s only gotten worse ever since the new 104th recruits joined the Scout Regiment. She keeps praising the dickhead in front of them whenever they ask about him, telling them a variety of stories stretching from way back, it’s ridiculous.

“I don’t!” She really doesn’t. She just idolizes him so much that it comes across as romance. People keep rubbing to her face that she’s inlove, though it’s definitely not what she feels.

Her denial nature and easily flustered reactions keep your spirits low, almost surmising with a conclusion that you had no chance at all if not for the fact that she never made romantic advances to him her whole stay in the army.

“You do,” you avert your gaze, not wanting her to notice the brewing jealousy in your eyes, else she might avoid you or act awkward if she finds out.

“I don’t!” she presses, accidentally pulling on the horse’s crest, forcing a neigh out of it. Petra apologizes to it like it can understand her. “If that isn’t definitely guilty, I don’t know what is,” you mumble under your breath, releasing another sigh as you start sweeping the scattered hay.

Once the Captain’s horse calms down, she faces you, hands on her waist, ready to explain her feelings in fine details. “Look—“

“Who said you can slack off?” Speak of the devil. Your conversation is given a good interruption when the dark haired man arrives.

Petra immediately fixes herself, fist slamming to her chest as acknowledgment of the Captain’s presence. “We weren’t, Captain! She just wanted to help me out,” Petra clarifies right away, voice firm and booming.

You feel the infamous pair of fierce eyes dart on you, and you briefly thank anything that first comes in mind for your current position, back facing the Captain so he can’t see your disgusted scowl.

You prep yourself and turn around, giving him a half-assed salute. “I just finished with the laundry. Thought I could give her a hand,” you say, tone almost holding no formality at all, “—sir,” you lazily add.

His brows twitch as he hears you out. Brat.

“I don’t recall telling everyone to work in pairs, neither of you understood that?” he pinpoints, staring you dead in the face. You’re not intimidated, though, not one bit. If you think I’m scared, you can kiss your own ass. “I insisted. In case you didn’t notice, she’s tired,” you inform, steadiness unwavering. What is even wrong with assisting someone? This merciless prick.

“Oh?” He walks toward you in strides, easily coming face-to-face with you in a span of seconds.

“Come to my office, Petra,” he orders without looking at her, and the woman gives you one last glance, then making off after giving him a polite yes. There it is. He’s about to show his true colors, you just know it.

“Cheap way to win her over,” Levi lowly spits at you, and you can feel his hot breath ghosting harshly over your face. “If you’re so kind, do it all over again,” he orders lastly, internally entertained by how your eyes shut close in fury, grip on the broomstick tightening.

As he finally steers to leave, you swear in your life you never wanted to hit someone so damn much it’d knock them out cold.

Levi heads back, footsteps fading into the background, and an exasperated groan leaves your mouth. You frustratedly throw the broom to the floor, startling his horse, which does nothing but make your blood boil stronger in your veins. Fuck him!

—

You lie down on the hard ground, even more deadbeat than the girl you opted to help. For shit’s sake, who knew this is what you get for volunteering to be of use? You can only imagine how the new cadets would have it hard once the Captain notices their mediocre cleaning skills.

It’s probably nearing curfew, you guess from the excessive appearance of stars in the skies, but your muscles are strained stiff you can’t come inside any time now. You were left with no choice but start from scratch. If you act up and not clean up to his standards, you’ll only get it way worse, so you decided not to push him further.

You sense someone approach you, and you strongly wish it isn’t Levi. He’s the last creature you’d like to see today.

Soft and familiar amber eyes greet yours from upside down, a petite body looming over you, and you couldn’t be anymore thankful. Petra gives you a sympathetic look before sitting down beside your laid form, keeping her hands behind her back.

“I told you,” she starts, “it’d be no good if Captain sees, but you insisted and he arrived! Now look at you, you’re absolutely exhausted, aren’t you?” she continues to scold, though it doesn’t strike you as a scolding. More of a concern, yes. A smile creeps up your lips.

“Just give me the bread,” you confidently say, and she sighs in defeat before revealing the pastry she had in hand. Your heart feels giddy as you sit up straight, taking the food she went out of her way to prepare. It’s like the tiredness just disappeared into thin air. What an angel.

Petra scrunches her nose as she watches you eat in speed. You cock a brow as you see her look at you like you’re— “Do I stink?” you frantically question and smell yourself all over. No way, you’ll definitely get points off now!

She giggles bubbly and shakes her head to dismiss your assumptions. “No, but you’re biting like you haven’t eaten in ages. That famished?” she asks once she’s calmed down.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, unsure of what to think. She’s definitely an angel, especially when she smiles. You sigh for the nth time, “Obviously. Did you see how much of a bastard our Captain is? In all honesty, I’d prefer Hange as our squad leader,” you complain and resume to munching.

“I don’t know about that,” she says, gaze boring into yours. You tear your eyes off of her and stare at the horse stalls. “What did the old geezer make you do?”

“Nothing, just a bunch of paperwork,” she says truthfully. Oh, for all you know, he just wanted her all to himself. What an unfair move, using his authority to have her alone.

You angrily bite down on the bread, later realizing you’ve finished it. As she observes you, her eyes widen, suddenly remembering something. “I forgot your water!” she exclaims and rises to her feet, but you stop her before she can leave, grabbing her soft hand.

Your chest stutters involuntarily from the contact and you compose yourself right away. “It’s alright, I’ll get it myself. Go back to your room before Captain catches you,” you urgently say, not wanting her to get in trouble again. “Just help me up,” you ask to which she generously follows. You briefly wish the moment could last longer.

“You sure?” she quizzes when you finally stand up. Both of you heading inside, you nod and hum in agreement, “Thanks for the food.”

She gives you a smile as you both reach the halls, waving you goodbye before you part ways. Ahh, you feel all energetic now.

You walk to the mess hall, footsteps light and shallow. Judging from the dimly lit corridors, it must be a few minutes away from curfew. You just hope you don’t bump into some higher-ups. Hange’s fine, though.

As you push the door open, you regret it right away. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter unintelligibly. Aside from the raven haired man, the room is dead empty, a lone candle in a chamberstick providing dull light. Technically, he is the last creature you see tonight.

You have lost count of how many sighs you’ve released the whole day, all energy in your body draining once again. Steel eyes lock on you as you enter. There’s no turning back now. Well, at least Petra isn’t the one who found him here.

Levi cocks a brow as he watches you proceed inside, seemingly heading to the water jug. You stay quiet and take a glass, then filling it with water. As much as possible, you don’t want to converse with him.

He seems like he won’t let you succeed with that. “Done with the stables?” he asks, sipping on his tea.

“Yeah,” you curtly answer, not up for some bantering.

“Some goody two shoes you are,” he scoffs, ticking you off, but you refuse to let it show. You face him and lean your back against the counter. “Like you’re any better with your assholish attitude,” you sass him out, drinking on your water all the while remaining eye contact. You’ll show him.

“And you complain like the little brat that you are,” he rebuts.

“You’re just threatened that she might go for me behind your back when I just wanted to help,” you answer with a shrug, taking a few steps closer to the table he’s seated.

“Women like you like to play dirty.”

“You don’t know a thing about women,” you snide with a condescending smile, belittling the man before you. He can’t be one to talk about women when he treats you like shit. If there’s someone Petra might end up with, you sure as heck wouldn’t want it to be this guy.

He throws you a glare, piqued by your words before standing on his feet and and walking his way to you. You stay steady, unfazed by the intimidation he’s giving off.

“After all these years, do you seriously think you stand a chance?” he deadpans, which strikes straight to your feelings. He doesn’t have to emphasize that, you already know it, memorized it even.

“I don’t know, but it’d be just as much as a loss if she chooses you,” you say, slamming the glass you’re holding onto the table. After giving him one last glare, you turn your back on him, having enough of the senseless arguments.

He hates how you only ever treat him as a Captain in the battlefield, but not when you’re at ease. You always looked at him like an arch nemesis of the sort, not afraid to answer back at him like he doesn’t deserve your respect. He stressfully closes his eyes and massages his temples as you leave.

—

You sit on the bench, just in front of the Captain, who is currently beside your beloved Petra. Look at him making his moves. You roll your eyes discreetly, sipping on your fresh tea.

“What are you, on a diet or some crap?” Levi asks, finding Petra’s plate empty, bowl of soup halfway finished.

“No, I gave it to the girl you made run laps,” she informs, “she almost passed out, you know.” Right? you wanted to agree but decide to sit still and listen.

Levi doesn’t answer, and instead puts his own loaf of bread on her vacant dish. “Eat. We have an upcoming expedition,” he only says and sips on the liquid left in his cup. Petra’s cheeks turn into a feminine shade of pink, and you so wanted to pull her away from him. She exclaims a yes and starts munching. Great, I should’ve done that first.

You’re not about to put up without a fight, though.

“Dear Captain has to eat as well, don’t you think?” you sarcastically chime in, transferring your unmoved bread onto his plate. “Can’t have him thinned to bones when the walls get breached again,” you add, innocent smile downright infuriating to Levi’s eyes.

You desperately try to keep in your barging laugh to yourself as you watch him look at his plate disgustedly.

What do you say, Petra? I’m just as kind as he is, right? That show off.

Petra hums in agreement and nudges the Captain to eat, a string of hearty giggles leaving her velvet lips, alluring about a total of three people from the same table. You heart skips a round of beats as you watch her flash her toothy grins. Talk about an appetizing view.

Her giggles boil down as realization hits her. She gives you a mixed look of confusion and thoughtfulness, opening her mouth to speak and stop you on your tracks.

“But—”

You wave her off before she can shove her worries to you and prop yourself up, momentarily stretching your limbs in relaxation to then pick up your dirtied china.

“Don’t worry, Petra, I’m already full,” confidence brimming in your tone, you tell her and take your leave. But not without giving the Captain one last glimpse. It was even more appetizing to see him pissed.

Your other comrades only watch in awe as they see the unnamed rivalry uncover ahead of their eyes, your victorious smile determining the whose triumph it is for today.

How about that?

—

When you finish with dish duty, you head to the dining area once more to check if the sconce candles are extinguished, only to find them still lit and burning, with a side of holy bastard, as you like to call him. Of all people.

“Here again? What is this, your lounge room or something?” you mockingly ask and take a seat in front of him, wiping your wet hands on your pants. He ignores you.

You purse your lips out of observation. He must be a tea addict, having another one after dinner. “Are you always here every night?” you ask again, initiating a genuine conversation.

He finally looks at you and sets his tea on the table, a bit surprised by your question. “I am,” he answers. You nod, about to ask another question but he beats you to it.

“I’m removing you from the flank,” he suddenly blurts, taking you aback. What? Your rested face visibly loses composure as your brows furrow together.

“What do you mean? Is it because I shitted on you earlier? Oh please, do you think I’ll hit on Petra while on a mission?” you continuously spurt in one go, hackles slowly raising.

“It’s not about her. Erwin specifically asked for you to join his group since you apparently answered him right,” he remarks, completely calm. You are smart, that’s already a given that he knows, it’s just that feelings can get over the best of you that he doesn’t find rational.

Your ragged breathing upon taking him the wrong way steadies as you listen. “The Commander?” you confirm and he grunts his response. “Alright then, you better watch over her in my stead.”

Levi takes a glance at you, steel grey eyes holding an unreadable expression, which you find amusing and triggers a laugh out of you. It’s like his answer should have been already staring you in the face. Naturally, he’ll do that without you ordering him.

He can be cute at times, can’t he? In a funny way of course, you inwardly clear out.

Meanwhile, he thinks you’re out of your mind as you humor yourself. He’d honestly like it if you just leave him alone right now, which you eventually did, waving him goodbye.

The night before the expedition, you pay Petra’s room a short visit.

She answers the door within three quiet knocks. “Hey,” you greet with a smile and she offers to let you in forthrightly. “No! It’s fine, I just need a few seconds,” you dismiss.

“What is it?” she curiously asks, now face to face with you as you stand in her doorway.

“I won’t be with you tomorrow, so you better take care. Stick with Gunther, or Oluo. If possible, not with the Captain,” you whisper the last bit jokingly, but she ignores it and only questions why you’re separated. You explain the situation to her, leaving out the confidential details.

Petra nods, stroking her chin. You notice she’s already in her nightwear and is probably prepared to sleep, so you decide to return to your own quarters.

“Take care, alright?” you remind, eyes boring into her borderline gold ones. They were pretty and gentle, a pair you always adored through the years.

Petra wishes you the same and then a good night, strongly wanting to unite with you safely after the mission you could feel it deep inside you.

As you look at her, you‘re certain that you haven’t met a more loving person your whole life. Will there ever come a time that you’d confess to her? Probably not. If you’re being frank, you don’t think what you feel for her is that deep a love that you’d go out of your way to initiate a romantic bond. If nothing else, it might only be admiration, an attachment at most. You like her, that goes without saying, but there isn’t any room for in depth involvement, especially not in this line of work, you think.

The door to her room finally closed, you spin to get your own shuteye, only to see a familiar figure from a little distance.

The candlelights on the halls define the highest points of the man’s face beautifully, and you identify him without a hitch, dull grey orbs meeting yours.

“Let her sleep, and get your rest,” he briefly says before making off. Your eyes slightly largen from the lack of interaction, as opposed to the reprimanding you expected. Was he supposed to say his regards to her as well?

In all fairness, he didn’t go for your neck this time. Well, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Morning comes quickly, along with the falling into formation as sketched, the deployment of operation, and the arrays of discoveries you found in the progress. Everything happened quickly, and before you know it, the expedition is given an official beat to retreat.

You stand on the same branch as the Commander, waiting for his signal to flee after fighting off the wave of titans to defend the target. Three pair of your blades are blunted down to nubs from the excessive charges, and you think for a moment if you should replace them with new ones.

Catching your breath, you wipe dry your dampened skin and clothes. You watch as he idly chat with the Captain, instructing him to refill his gases. For what? I thought it’s over?

Levi listens to what he’s told, perceivably on his guard. Why is he even here? Where are the others? When you’re just about to call Levi’s attention, Erwin catches sight of you and the confusion resounding from your aura. He then permits you to break away from his flank and reunite with your own squad, and you gladly follow.

You first help clean up with the immobilizing equipment used on the spy, telling Hange to prepare for withdrawal. She passes the message onto the other soldiers, commanding them to bestride their horses to then get going.

You still don’t know where to find your teammates, so you stick with the higher-ups a little longer.

Since you’ll travel by horse from here on, you decide not to meddle with your gears anymore. You hop on the saddle and lightly yank the reigns to start moving, and with everyone else, you ride through the woods, thousands of questions ready inside your head.

A few moments later, you hear Erwin converse with Hange regarding the spy, about how they must still be alive and how they must’ve blended in by now. You feel the tension rising as you listen to his assumptions, trying to register everything he’s trying to come across with, and it all makes sense when you hear two consecutive thundering of little intervals.

You quickly turn around and swerve, shifting your weight to guide your horse back to where the booming sound came from. It’s the alleged sound intelligent titans make when they transform, and you know push has come to shove if you hear two of them.

As far as you remember, the key weapon was situated together with your squad, you being the only one left out, so you’ll find them where Eren is. You let your horse gallop in great speed, heart thumping loudly in your chest it’s almost deafening. Please, be safe.

It feels like decades have already gone by when you arrive at the terrorizing scene of carnage.

You put your horse to an abrupt halt and jump off, cold sweat breaking without control as you stumble upon corpses and corpses you achingly recognize, the life in their eyes strenuously extracted. Gunther, Eld, Oluo… Petra.

An immense vertigo hits your head, your field of vision blurring upon seeing them drained of consciousness. You refuse to accept the view, shaking your head like a child in utmost declination. It seems you’ve only followed behind the Captain, finding him looking at the same plight.

“Levi…” you helplessly call as if seeking for refuge and saving. But it horrifies you the most when you meet his dead gaze deprived of rest, almost exactly looking like theirs, striking violently at your heart. No, not you, too…

Streams of tears shed endlessly from the corners of your eyes, and Levi doesn’t know what to do. He’s beyond pained, watching the only comrade he has left on his team slowly break down due to the shambles. He can’t afford to be frozen by the fathomless torment he’s currently trying to overcome, nor does he have the luxury to stay by your side and console you.

He has no choice but to keep moving.

“Call the others for assistance and put their bodies on a carriage,” are the last words he gives you before taking his leave, wires zipping and clutching into the surfaces of the tree barks as he skillfully maneuvers with his gear.

You think for a second, is he that used to losing people? but you completely miss out on how he slashes the giant enemy in great anger, expertly cutting flesh like he’s never done before as if it’s his only chance to momentarily pour out his emotions, all the while trying to stay objective.

Your whole body weakens and you fall to your knees, getting a closer look at the dead woman before your sight. Your hand acts on its own, stretching out to painstakingly tuck Petra’s locks behind her ear like how she always styled it. Your lips tremble as you attempt to fight your threatening sobs back.

She has slipped out from both your reaches.

Since then, you limited your interactions to those that were only really necessary, because for the first time in a while, you feel utterly alone. Years of having the sweet girl by your side all gone into the dust, along with the overwhelming loss of your whole squad, everything is weighing you down.

Flashes of memories come at the most misplaced time every now and then, and you can’t handle it when it triggers in public, causing you to lock yourself up in your room, weeping in secret.

You can’t be any more thankful to your Captain for letting you wallow in your own way of coping. Most importantly, though a small part of you still doesn’t want to admit, you’re more than grateful he stayed alive all throughout the last of the mission, coming back home with you.

You still remember the hurt in his eyes that no matter how hard he attempted to conceal, still peers out. It was visible when you had no choice but to throw the bodies out of the carriages, bringing not a single fallen soldier back. It was visible when Petra’s father asked the Captain for his daughter, even going as far as spilling his plans of arranging a marriage between the two young pair.

It’s haunting you so much, you haven’t had an hour of sleep after arriving back even if there’s an upcoming operation. Despite it being against your will, you frequently wonder how he’s doing.

One night, you find yourself walking through the halls, unable to force your mind to just shut down and rest without stressing out for the uncountable time.

You don’t know why you’re fully decisive of where to go and who to find. You don’t know why you feel calmer every step further. You don’t know why you’re so eager as you push on the wooden doors of the mess hall. You don’t know why you already expected to see him there.

“Oh, look at the old geezer drinking his tea in the dark. Do you know what time it is? It’s past curfew,” you inform sarcastically, voice also forging a front to sound normal. It’s not yet past curfew, you just want to tick him off.

“You’re only four years younger, and it’s not,” Levi answers as he lets his eyes land on yours. It’s obvious you’re only trying to clown around, the exhaustion in your face giving away your crestfallen state.

“What? How do you know that?” you ask, scandalized.

“I recognize the time.”

“I meant my age?”

“Because I am your Captain, woman. Don’t push me,” he hisses and brings his teacup into his mouth, the hot beverage staining on his tongue just the way he likes it. Even more so that it’s the only thing he can rely on at the moment. That’s what he thinks.

You scowl and sigh. Fair enough.

You take a seat in front of him and he gives you an unreadable look, as usual. Does he feel intruded? All of a sudden, you feel shy, hoping you’re not bothering him.

“What? I won’t mess with you, I’m tired,” you argue upon seeing him stare you down like something’s off with you.

Levi studies your expression, finding your face a bit similar to his in a not so positive way. With a shallow sigh, he decides to let you be and do what you want.

You prop your cheek on your elbow and maintain eye contact. “How’s your leg?” you quiz, genuinely curious of his current condition. The bastard brought home an injury as souvenir, rendering him downright useless for the plans the Scouts had right ahead.

“Not good,” he says, earning him a hum in response. The longer he lets his glance stay on yours, the more he notices the little details in the way you presented yourself.

Tonight, you spared no effort in fixing your hair, still a bit messy from the tossing and turning earlier in desperate hopes to fall asleep. Your lips were dry and chapped, he notes to call you out for it later. For all he knows, you might be dehydrated already. Your eyes? Unquestionably racked with pain.

You rest your face on top of your overlapped arms and settle to find a comfortable position.

“Go to your room if you want to sleep,” he orders, which you only ignore. Does he seriously think you’ve been able to sleep these days? Because you’re sure as heck he can’t with those dark under eyes of him. “Your neck will only get stiff in that position,” he adds.

Something about the company he generously, though not obviously, offers makes your eyelids fall shut in ease, his baritone voice helping your nerves compose themselves.

“I said I’m tired, give me a break…” you gradually lose volume as you speak, slowly drifting off without knowing.

Levi clicks his tongue when you finally succumb to drowsiness.

It’s not like he doesn’t have any options left, but he couldn’t do anything as he stays all night to watch over you. Surprisingly enough, the company felt comforting that he can’t bring himself to leave.

Couple hours later, he’s still up and reading a book when he hears a soft whimper escape your lips. Levi takes a glimpse at you and is a bit baffled to catch sight of a lone driblet trickling from your lids.

Sighing, he feels inclined to wipe it away with his thumb in sympathy and does as his subconscious says. The moment his calloused finger touches your skin, he realizes that you were undeniably warm. So much for a brat like you.

When you wake up, you feel a heavy cloth wrapped around your soldiers. You check the surroundings and remember falling asleep in the dining, later seeing that the fabric is a tan jacket, a uniform. The familiar scent enters your nostrils, and you name its owner right away.

An involuntary wave of heat rises to your cheeks and you’re uncertain why. It’s Captain Levi’s.

It makes you contemplate out of nowhere, was it wrong to treat him like a competition?

Thinking about it, you kind of regret not being casual with him. Without question, you’re not really in best terms with him, having an eye for the same person for a long time, that should be understood. He’s an outstanding soldier, that you can admit, but you can’t exactly put up with his strict ways at times, some of it coming off as irrational.

Maybe you should really just accept the fact that he’s a great Captain nevertheless. Because even though you viewed him like that all this time, he’s still being considerate in some ways.

A small smile forms on your lips. You definitely should start warming up to him. He’s the only team you’ve got left.

—

Tray in hand, you enter the Captain’s room, not bothering with a knock. To hell with that, I’ve got a handful, if he complains about his privacy or some crap, I’ll shove this damn food to his face.

Yes, you decided to bring him his lunch after the successful-fail raid in Stohess District. Honestly, you’re damn tired to the bones, but you take it upon yourself to give Levi a short visit.

He gives you an annoyed stare, obviously not expecting your company, and you only roll your eyes. “What’s that?” he asks.

“Food. What, is your old age getting to you? Need some glasses?” you talk back, not up for his dumb question.

Things aren’t going so well for the Survey Corps, political stances going against your brigade, comrades dying one by one you’re not entirely sure if their death was in vain or not. It’s only a miracle the Commander found a way to nullify the consequences about to come your way. That’s why Levi better not raise your hackles bad or your brain will completely explode in front of him.

He ignores your sardonic jest and eyes the tray, primarily looking for the tea, if you brought one. You did. But he keeps his hands to himself for a while.

“It’s too early for dinner, and I could’ve gone to get my own food.” An exasperated sigh escapes your throat, hearing his argument.

“This is your late lunch, sir,” you inform candidly, taking him by surprise. True enough, you didn’t mean to be so observant, but you saw him skip lunch earlier before the raid. Heck, this isn’t even the first time he deliberately missed it. You know he’s still unwell and at a loss just as much as you are—maybe even worse, and that’s preventing him from taking care of himself.

Of course, he’s still your Captain whom you’re willing to serve, wholeheartedly, at that. Hence, you’re going to take care of him if he’s not doing it himself, whether he likes it or not. If even this guy leaves you, then you’ll probably arrive at the end of your wits.

With an exasperated sigh, you set his meal on top of the nightstand right beside his bed. “Are you enjoying being a useless Captain?” you cross your arms and quiz, having enough of his prideful attempts for rejection.

“Tch, you know full well I’m not,” he answers and averts his glance, looking outside the window and the dimming skies.

“Then eat your food and stop complaining,” you lastly command, real bossy and assertive that he’s on the brink of cocking a brow in question.

He falls silent. You were right, he won’t get any better if he continues to mistreat himself. Besides, it’s already you who went out of your way to prepare him food, he shouldn’t just let that go to waste. Finally giving in, Levi first grabs the teacup by its mouth and takes a sip, nose immediately scrunching in repulsion upon tasting the beverage. You might be trying to poison him, after all.

“This tea is shit.”

“I said stop complaining.”

—

A whole different wave of hurdles and complications just got overcome after the wall breach alarm got deemed false, and three new intelligent titans were revealed. Seeming as though those weren’t even enough, humanity’s key weapon got kidnapped as well. Naturally, a rescue operation was deployed to action, losing a ton more soldiers in the process.

Everything is starting to become overwhelming, you’re both physically and mentally exhausted, and emotionally. Everything is beginning to feel like a pain in the neck, as if the Scout Regiment didn’t have that way from the start.

It’s actually just as you guessed. When you went outside without a full functioning team and a Captain to follow orders from, you felt lost and misplaced. The novel experience was depressing, to say the least, moving forward without the ones you’ve fought side by side with through the years.

You can’t help but find yourself looking for a familiarity, a middle ground of the sort. Feeling like a storm is building up inside you for trying to suppress your problems all by yourself.

On the low spirited trip back, you eventually realize you needed someone. And who else is there aside from him?

You ride your horse back to the walls, aching for his presence. Anything that has to do with him, you want to see and feel.

It’s almost like vexing decades have passed when you arrive and return to the headquarters. You hop off your horse, movements slow and back hunched, aura visibly despondent.

Your half lidded eyes desperately scan the fields to search for that one person, comforting satisfaction taking over your entire body as you find him standing a few meters away from your form.

Funnily enough, he was waiting for you just the same.

Levi couldn’t decipher what shitty smile you tried to give him, it was only plain pitiful in his eyes that his guts are telling him to walk over to you and give you a welcome. He didn’t have to do it, though.

Because maybe you did the first step. Maybe you took big strides or maybe you eagerly ran to his figure to feel his warmth against your body. But nothing else matters when you reach out both your trembling arms to him, now wrapped around his sturdy body, locking him in an embrace you never thought you’d feel your whole life.

You slowly descend to a sobbing mess, completely abandoning the idea of you looking like a mere crybaby in his eyes. He’ll surely bring this up some other time, but damn that. All you know is that you needed this, badly.

It’s shameful, being fully aware that you’re slowly eating your words. Whenever you think of how you put the tiny distance between you and him, you just want to slap your palm across your face. In reality, he isn’t so bad.

You want to thank him for letting you free yourself and let it all out, but your awfully shaky sobs are hindering you from doing so.

Levi senses your exhaustion, and a whole other variety of intense emotions. You’ve been keeping some burden to yourself, too. It’s amusing to him in a way that you’re both similar in a lot of things. Especially in the bad habit of bottling oneself up, assuming it’d do any better.

Deep down, he’s glad you let loose and opened your walls to him. He cares for you, after all.

As you weep against his chest, lungs stuttering and eyes turning bloodshot, Levi allows his hand to pat your back, lightly stroking it to make you calm down.

It is, indeed, wordlessly reassuring, telling you that he was there. You never imagined that of all people, he had the ability to offer the exact solace you’re looking for, just with the simple gesture.

For once, he lets it slide that you’re all bloody, sweaty, dirty, filthy—name it—when making contact with him. He just doesn’t know that needed this as well. In fact, the entire time you were away, his foot mindlessly tapped in full expectancy of your arrival, waiting with bated breath. Not like he’ll admit that.

“Don’t you dare speak,” you threaten amidst your shaky hiccups, and he almost finds it amusing how you can still manage to act so tough in front of him when you’re already breaking down against him.

He secretly heaves out a sigh, the expression of relief escaping your ears, “Brat.”

Both of you stand there underneath the twilight to dusk horizon, ignoring how some of your subordinates watch you in shock, or how you’re not halfway the trouble yet, still utterly clueless of what lies ahead. Because right now, you were still together. You had each other, someone to lean on in this wretched mess.

Without the two of you knowing precisely why, both your hearts feel a tad bit alive.