#and as I’ve said about other things I feel like the knowledge that things weren’t always a certain way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ebsmind · 4 months ago

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𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝 ❀ armando aretas x fem!reader

summary: no one ever said love was easy. good thing you weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon even through rough patches.

word count: 2.9k

warning(s): angst!, fighting (verbally not physically), smut (mdni), oral (fem receiving), fab!reader, readers height being mentioned (she’s 5’2), reader has armando wrapped around her damn finger, ummmm probably abandonment but like for only two days 😭, soft!armando, mention of rafe x reader, not 100% proofread

a/n: okay woooo this is the first imagine i’ve written in a minute (if you remember my hockey days ily) i hope this is good and can meet to yalls standards! i had fun writing this and ik it took me like over a week but i really didn’t know what i wanted to do with the plot lol. anyways please send me any feedback and if there’s any spelling mistakes or anything feel free to lmk! this was also my first time ever writing in depth smut so i hope it’s somewhat good 💃🏻 also reblogs are highly encouraged! they help me out sm!

oh! i almost forgot too, i didn’t mention it in here bc it’s not that important to me but i thought id share anyways! i see the reader knowing the AMMO team but she has a different job (id say in hospitality or something with medical knowledge) it doesn’t really matter tho since it’s what i envisioned but i just wanted yall to see where my head is at! okay im going now bye! and enjoy 💋

“we were crazy to think, crazy to think that this could work. remember how i said i’d die for you?”

The weather in Miami the past week has been bipolar. For it being the middle of September, it was chilly. Something felt off, almost like Mother Nature was reaching out. The rain had just finished pouring, and Armando wasn’t due to be home until another hour. So, when the younger girl heard the lock to the front door turn, she was surprised. He wasn’t one to leave early if anything, he loved working overtime. He always gave the excuse of 'wanting to be the main provider'. When he walks in, he sets his jacket on the coat hanger and doesn’t say a word. Weird.

“Hey you’re home early, what happened?” She stays calm. Something seems off with the 5’10 man and she doesn’t want to upset him even more.

He sets the keys on the dining table rather than the coffee table in the middle of the living room. He scurries off to their shared bedroom. She sighs and takes it as a hint to get off the couch and follow after him. Her mind runs wild on what could possibly be bothering him. Did Marcus find some way to piss him off? Did a raid go wrong? Did she do something wrong? There were so many possibilities of what could’ve gone wrong.

She walks into the bedroom cautiously and makes a B-line to the restroom. Armando had a routine when he came home from work. Put the keys in the bowl on the coffee table, find his girl, give her a kiss and hug, talk about both of their days and finally, hop in the shower. A sense of stability in his life made him feel somewhat relaxed and gave him a reason to never leave. He almost felt normal. Normal was a funny word considering he used to be in the cartel.

She knew the domesticated part of their relationship scared him and it did the same to her. Most nights she’d stay up thinking about if he was going to get up and leave one day. It wasn’t good for her and she knew it too.

She leans against the door frame and watches him get into the shower. He doesn’t seem to notice, he’s in his head and it’s bothering him. Armando didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve but she knew him well enough to know when he was in his head. Being in a romantic relationship with someone with an avoidant attachment style wasn’t easy but she needed to be patient. Some days were harder than others though, and she felt it in her bones that today was going to be a bad day.

She mentally prepares herself by taking a deep breath. She starts by saying, “Armando you’ve got to talk to me.” She uses his full name, no pet names, wanting him to know she’s being serious.

“We will when I get out.” He raises his voice, not enough for it to be considered yelling but just enough to get the point across that he isn’t in the mood.

She doesn’t respond, he needs time to gather his thoughts. She exits the bathroom and makes her way back to the living room. She picks up a book before finally making contact with the soft fabric of the couch. She needs something to distract herself with. About 15 minutes later, Armando walks into the room. She lets him soak in the silence, maybe he’ll get the memo to finally speak up without her having to tell him. To the contrary, he doesn’t.

Taking a deep breath she starts with, “I’m not in the mood to play a guessing game,” She pauses to look him in the eyes, “So please just talk to me and tell me what’s wrong.”

He keeps his eyes locked on her. He knows she’s irritated and wants to get this over with.

“And if I don’t want to talk?”

She scoffs, “You do realize we have to talk about it sooner or later, right? I don’t feel like doing this Armando, so please just tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

“What if we don’t have to do this?”

Bamboozled, she questions him, “the fuck you mean by ‘what if we don’t have to do this’ ?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore Y/N.”

His confession makes the poor girl's heart fall to her stomach. She can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. Their relationship was a tricky one, just like any other. She’s seen her parents go through rough patches before for fucks sake, there’s no way he’s leaving without an explanation. Patience is running real slow between the two and the tension in the room feels foggy.

“Remember when I told you I loved you for the first time? Remember when I told you I’d take a fucking bullet for you? Hmm?”

Armando doesn’t respond. Typical. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the young couple to fight, shit happens. But Armando’s cold demeanor is what was out of place.

She was his safe place and he knew it. She made it very clear when they started seeing each other that he couldn’t run away. Not from his feelings and most certainly not her. So for him to put up those walls that they desperately worked hard to keep down, was upsetting. To say the least.

With the tensions high between the pair, the girl took a much-awaited deep breath and spoke.

“My love for you is unconditional. I hope you remember that.”

Armando looks away and walks out the front door.

“they all warned us about times like this, they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith. blind faith.”

The mirrors in the bathroom are fogged up due to the boiling-hot water coming out of the shower head. It had been two days since Armando stormed out of the apartment and Y/N was fed up, to say the least.

Armando’s behavior has never gotten that bad. With the way Isabel raised him, it was expected to be rough but he had been doing good, for her. Everything he did, he reminded himself that it was for the both of them. He loved her just as much as she loved him. She fell first but he fell harder.

Armando never thought he would fall in love, but he did. In the middle of a stakeout, he spotted the girl walking out of a cafè. He remembers the dress she wore, it was white, and long, with yellow flowers. It screamed innocence and he loved it.

A week later he found himself following her around. He wasn’t due to go back to Mexico City for another week and he already finished the job so why not kill some time?

Two days before his departure from Miami he found himself in her apartment with his head between her thighs. He never wanted to leave but he couldn’t let anyone find out about you two. The good thing is, Armando was an excellent liar and no one ever discovered his dirty little secret.

Once she gets out of the shower, she waits no time to yell out her lover's name.

“Armando?” She pauses and there’s no answer.

Her heart breaks just a little more. With the ache in her chest, she decides to call the one person who might know where Armando is, Mike.

Mike was someone Y/N found comfort in, especially when it came to Armando. She knew their relationship was tricky, but he cared about his son and so did she.

Mike picks up at the 5th ring. He knew she only called when it was an emergency.

“Talk to me. What happened?” Mike doesn’t need to ask how she’s doing, if anything he’ll do it after but he needed to know what in the hell his son did now.

Mike’s voice brought the girl to tears. She felt at ease knowing that Mike was always willing to help her in a time of need.

She sniffles before speaking, “Oh Mike, it’s been two days since I’ve last seen him. He came home Tuesday night without saying a word and left right after showering. I tried to get him to talk but he wouldn’t budge. I’m really worried he hasn’t done this in so long, I don’t know what happened.” She says it all in one breath, and by the time she is done speaking, she’s panting. Mike pauses before replying to the anxious girl.

“I’ll call Dorn and Kelly to see if he’s been staying with them but he’s been going to work. I knew something was up when he refused to talk to anyone.”

“Thank you, Mike, I appreciate you so much.”

“Of course, but Imma need you to remember that when shit hits the fan never give up. You hear me? Never give up, especially with Armando.”

Mike hangs up after speaking and leaves Y/N to wallow in her thoughts. She understood Mike was a busy man and had a separate life so she didn’t take it to heart but it hurt knowing that she was all alone again.

“but we can patch it up good, make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you.”

Mike called Y/N back two hours later saying that Armando was on his way home. The girl couldn’t tell if she was happy that he was okay or enraged that he didn’t have the balls to come home without someone having to tell him too. Armando would just have to come home to see the answer to that.

The young woman was frightened, not knowing if this was going to end in a raging verbal war or if everything was going to return to normal. She didn’t want to lose Armando, like she said earlier, she loved him unconditionally.

To kill time, she decided it was best to bake her favorite sweets, chocolate chip cookies. She makes her way to the kitchen to prep the batter. When she goes to preheat the oven, she hears the front door unlock. Armando’s home.

Even after almost two years of being together, he still made her heart race and the butterflies in her stomach never seem to have left.

He walks in and spots her in the kitchen, her back is facing him. He can tell she’s waiting for him to make the first move.

“I’m home.” He closes the front door and locks it, his eyes never leaving her back.

She looks to the right and over her shoulder, “It took you long enough. Where were you?”

“I stayed with Dorn and Kelly. I’m fine Y/N.”

She takes a deep breath and mentally reminds herself that she can’t blow up on him, even though he deserves it. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. There’s nothing else for her to say, he messed up badly and he needed to be the one to fix this.

“Baby look, lo siento, I do. I don’t know what happened. One second I was okay and then Rita said something and I just got angry. I needed some time to think. I needed space.” He makes his way to the kitchen island, he’s now 5 feet away from Y/N. He yearns for her touch. The last couple of days were hard and all he wanted was a hug from his girl, but he knew he wasn’t getting that.

The oven beeps, cutting off Y/N’s train of thought. She grabs the metal tray filled with cookies and gently puts them into the oven. She turns and is faced with Armando. She takes notice of what he’s wearing. It’s a different outfit, she knew for a fact that he came when she was gone for work. He had left with nothing but his keys on Tuesday and Dorn’s clothes wouldn’t have fit Armando. That man was 6’2 for Christ's sake.

“I didn’t expect you to become a coward and just leave without saying a word but here we are.” Armando could feel the heat radiating off of the 5’2 woman. She may be small but she was frightening when she was angry.

Armando grips the counter, hard, he takes a deep breath before answering the girl.

“I know I fucked up but I just needed space.” She scoffs at his statement.

“Needed space from what exactly?” She manages to huff out. She’s fed up and Armando knows it. One wrong move and he’s a dead man.

“Rafe wouldn’t shut up, okay! He kept talking about you like you were just some piece of meat.! I couldn’t take it! I get that you guys dated but fuck!” Armando's grip on the counter is lethal and his knuckles are practically white.

“Armando Aretas are you jealous?”

“No.”

She smiles and gets a glare in return from her lover. Oh, she was going to have a field day with this.

Before Armando came into the picture Y/N had dated Rafe for about 4 months. It wasn’t anything serious, but if you were to ask her what she thought of Rafe, she’d tell you he was a piece of shit.

“Well I think you’re jealous,” she wasn’t letting it go, “and I think it’s hot but you need to remember that Rafe can be a douchebag.” She makes her way over to Armando and pulls him in for a hug.

“Just next time please don’t leave without saying a word and you have to communicate with me.” She looks up at him with her doe eyes while speaking.

“I promise it won’t happen again. I love you, baby.”

“Religion’s in your lips even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship, we might just get away with it, the altar is my hips even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship this love.”

Without a second to waste Armando sweeps the girl into a passionate kiss. He’s hungry and seeing Kelly and Dorn together really made him miss his girl.

He brings his hands down her body and rests them on her hips. He deepens the kiss by swiping his tongue into her mouth. As much as she wants to fight for it, she knows it’s his turn to take care of her, so she gives in. She runs her hand up to the back of his neck, rests it there, and occasionally plays with the hairs at the base of Armando’s neck. She was the first to pull away, she needed to catch a quick breath before being able to continue. Armando uses this moment to speak.

"Let me take care of you cariño."

Not even a second later, the younger woman lets him devour her like she's his last meal. He maneuvers them to the dining room, grabs her hips, and lifts her onto the table in one swift movement. She lets out a soft gasp when he makes contact with her neck. His teeth sink into the soft skin on the left side of her neck. It hurt, but not enough to cry about it. He soothes the small ache by running his tongue over the semi-red spot. She reacts by putting her hand on the back of his neck, never wanting him to stop. He has her panting, softly. The sounds go straight down into his pants. He chooses to ignore it, he's focusing on her.

He detaches himself from her neck to pull off the oversized tee she's wearing. He throws it to the floor. When he looks at her chest he notices the lacy fabric that hugs her breasts.

He lowers himself to where his lips rest right above her ear and whispers, "You drive me fucking crazy, baby."

Armando kneels in front of her and then proceeds to get a hold of her right leg. Before he continues, he looks up at her. God, he looked so fucking hot. His pupils were enflamed and filled with lust.

He starts to kiss his way up her leg, starting at her ankle, and right when he gets to her inner thing, she lets out a soft gasp. She's got him right where she wants him to be. Armando's right-hand grips the waistband of her black athletic shorts, signaling he wants them off. She lifts her hips and lets him do the rest. Armando takes off both her shorts and panties in one go. He was a tease, but not tonight.

He puts his hands on her hips and guides them to the edge of the table. He has full access and without a second left to spare his mouth makes contact with her folds. She shrieks, then it gets repressed into a moan when he finds her clit. He's lapping at her folds but it's not enough, she needs more.

"More, baby, I need more."

He wastes no time and inserts his ring and middle finger into her seeping wet cunt. Her moans are getting louder, and he fucking loves it. He continues by licking her clit, and her orgasm starts to finally peak.

"Oh fuck, yes, right there." She manages to speak through her moans.

Her right-hand finds its way to his dark brown hair, and she takes a fistful of it, not caring if it hurts him or not. He deserved it, after all, he left her alone for two days. She's close to her orgasm and he can feel it. His mouth makes its way to her clit and about 25 seconds later, she's coming undone.

Her sight fades to black and all she can see are stars. Once the image of them fades away, she looks down at Armando, he's licking her clean. She jerks away, from still being sensitive, but his hands immediately find their way to her hips to keep her in place. Not a drop of cum is going to waste. When he’s done he stands and removes his shirt. Y/N's hands go straight to his jeans, the outline of his cock doesn’t go unnoticed, but before she can get the zipper down the oven beeps. Both of their heads turn in the direction of the kitchen and the girls eyes widen in realization.

“What the fu-,”

"Oh my god, the cookies!"

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aquaticmercy · 18 days ago

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Waste a Moment / Part 7

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by : @remoony

Word count : 2.9k

Note : This chapter was quite nice to write. I’ve never had siblings but I’ve had people who I thought of as siblings so I hope the work translates to the reader and Yelena. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“How did You Find Me?”

Tuesday.

Eventually, it was time for you to move back to your apartment. You knew it was coming, but the knowledge didn’t make it easier.

You had spent far more time at Bucky’s than you intended. His presence had become a comfort to the quiet confusion you occupied.

The day of the move, Bucky was there, as he had always been.

As you stood in the foreign space of your apartment, he was there— helping you rebuild the space a version of you once called home.

The two of you worked in near silence, the kind that had become comfortable.

Every now and then, he’d ask where something should go. You wouldn’t know, so you just pointed at where you thought made the most sense.

There was something methodical about the process of unpacking and rearranging. Back at the museum, you loved cataloging, so this should have been soothing. But it wasn’t.

As you placed your clothes back into drawers and rearranged ornamental things on the shelves, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were putting together a puzzle with missing pieces.

Bucky didn’t ask how you were, didn’t try to force a conversation you weren’t ready for.

He just helped.

He dusted the shelves you hadn’t touched in months. He wiped down the counters that gathered layers of dust. Every now and then, you caught him checking to make sure you were okay.

By the time the apartment was mostly back in order, the sun had set.

This space, once yours, felt like it belonged to a stranger. This sense of detachment was unsettling, like you were an outsider looking in.

Bucky moved towards the door, though he hadn’t opened it yet. He stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slightly torn jacket.

“It looks like it used to,” he said quietly. You glanced at him, then back at the room. You nodded, trusting that it did.

Bucky took a small step toward the door. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say goodbye, but his eyes told you he didn’t really want to go.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said finally. He stood there, one foot in your apartment and the other in the hallway.

You felt a flutter of panic that made your chest tighten. The thought of him leaving— of being alone in this empty space— was unbearable.

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Do you think… Can you stay? M-maybe for a couple weeks?”

Bucky blinked, surprised by your request.

For a moment, you worried you’d said too much, that you’d crossed a line.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to be alone yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

The tension in his muscles melted away as he took a slow step toward you.

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “Of course.” He said, “I’ll stay as long as you need.”

Wednesday.

Exhaustion finally pulled you into a restless sleep, but you didn't find any peace.

It was the concrete again, heavy against your body. It collapsed around you, trapping you in a suffocating darkness. The cold scrape of rubble, the crushing weight, your muffled screams— it was too much to process. You were desperate to escape. You were struggling to breathe.

Then, you saw a tall figure walking towards you— Bucky!

But the walls began to close in completely before he could get to you.

Suddenly, you felt rough hands on your shoulders, shaking you firmly. The world around you started to dissolve.

You found yourself fighting against the intrusion.

You swung in self defense, fist connecting with something solid. A sharp grunt of pain finally pulled you back into the present.

Jolting awake, you realized you were in your bedroom. Bucky crouched next to you, clutching his jaw.

“Oh, God—Bucky! I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—” you stammered, horrified.

His eyes softened relieved that you were awake, despite the slight bruise.

He waved it off.” It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the punch surprisingly well. “I’ve had worse.”

You looked at the clock on your bedside table that read 01.00 AM.

Had you only been asleep for two hours?

“You were having a nightmare,” he told you.

You sat up, clutching the blankets to your chest. You couldn’t remember all the details, but terror settled in your bones anyway.

“I’m gonna stay here,” he said. His voice was calm, almost casual, almost waiting for your permission. “Just in case.”

Maybe you should just tell him to go back to the guest room, brush it all off with a forced laugh, or apologize profusely for punching him.

But the idea of being alone again, left to wrestle with the dark corners of your mind, was unbearable.

You managed a nod.

He eased himself beside you. He stayed above the covers, respecting the boundary between your space and his.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Bucky simply leaned back, propping himself on one arm, his other hand close to yours but not quite touching.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. It was too soon to put the fear into words. Bucky nodded, and you were grateful for it. He leaned back, his head resting against the headboard.

After a few moments, you let out a shaky breath.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you let your eyes shut, listening to the calm, reassuring sound of his breathing. Each rise and fall of his chest became an anchor, something to focus on beyond the remnants of your nightmare.

The bed dipped slightly as he adjusted, inching closer. His human hand laid next to yours, a quiet offer of comfort if you wanted it.

Finally, you shifted closer, curling into the warmth of his presence. His arm wrapped around you, gentle and protective.

You didn’t think you could fall asleep again, but with him there, the crushing weight in your chest began to ease.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.

Saturday.

You started feeling at home again.

As your eyes drifted to the former winter soldier readjusting flowers in your vase, you started to think that maybe home didn't mean a place. Maybe home, to you, was a person.

Each morning he made you coffee, handing you a mug without a word. He offered to help with laundry. Slowly, he started moving his things here. His clothes. His toothbrush. His shoes.

He didn’t hover, but he was always around, as if he could tell when the walls began to feel like they were closing in. Sometimes, he’d catch you staring out the window, lost in thought, and he’d nudge you gently. Other times, he’d suggest small things to keep you anchored—a walk around the block, a stop at the corner store for groceries, or a quiet evening watching old movies.

Today, you had trailed your fingers on his jaw, looking at the spot you had punched him in your sleep several days ago. You were amazed at how the bruise that formed was no longer there. Guess it made sense— super soldier healing and all.

If only the bruises in your mind healed that quickly.

The nightmares didn’t vanish, but they started to lose their edge. When they came, they didn’t feel quite as suffocating, partly because when you’d wake, he’d be there.

He stayed in the guest room most nights, but if you needed him, he’d be there without question, laying with you until morning.

He tried to act as if he was happy with this being casual, being platonic.

Sure.

Sunday.

Today, you found yourselves on the couch after a long day of training. Bucky had brought over a couple of old records he’d picked up from his storage room, and you both took turns picking the next one to play.

At one point, you caught him watching you.

When you looked over, he didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide the way he was studying your how your eyes lingered on his.

After a moment, Bucky’s expression grew thoughtful.

“You know, that nightmare you keep having... with the concrete ?” He paused, meeting your eyes, weighing whether he should continue. “That’s actually what happened during the mission.”

You felt your chest tighten. "What do you mean?"

“I was part of the rescue team that went in to get you out.” He took a steadying breath. “I was the one who found you underneath the rubble.”

“You… saved me,” you whispered, trying to piece everything together. “I must’ve hit my head before you got there. I think I— I’ve lost them by then..”

He nodded, “You said you see me in your dreams sometimes,” His voice softened. “I was probably the first person you saw after hitting your head.”

Oh.

Bucky had been your first new memory in four years, the first face you’d seen after the darkness. All the quiet pull you’d felt toward him suddenly made sense.

The strange safety you felt with Bucky—finally made sense. For once, something made sense.

It’s been so fucking long since anything made sense.

Tears slid down your cheeks, slow at first, then everything spilled over.

The sobs came hard. When your shoulders shook, Bucky pulled you into his arms without hesitation. His hand moved gently along your back as the record skipped quietly in the background.

He didn’t say a word. He just held you, knowing how much you needed this release.

When the tears finally eased, you managed a weak, watery laugh. “So,” you joked. “I basically imprinted on you like a little gosling.”

He chuckled. “Lucky me.”

Monday.

The museum was unusually quiet, just the soft hum of ventilation and the muffled steps of a few wandering visitors. Maybe the laugh of a couple school kids pointing at the Homo Erectus display.

You said hi to Alex before making your way in.

You and Yelena moved through the halls. She had suggested the museum for your post-training catch-up today, knowing how familiar this place was to you.

As you strolled through the Ancient Greek exhibit, you pointed at a sculpture that caught your attention.

"That's Mnemosyne," you said, "The goddess of memory."

Yelena looked at the statue with a curious squint. “There’s actually one for that?”

You nodded, feeling a faint sense of purpose as you explained. “In Orphism, which is this really interesting ancient Greek tradition, they believed the newly dead would drink from the River Lethe, which would make them forget their past lives. But if you drank from the river of memory—Mnemosyne—you’d remember everything and be free from the cycle of reincarnation.”

She turned to you, giving a small, almost mischievous smile. “And here you are, teaching me about memory after you’ve lost four years of it. Irony’s got a sense of humour.”

You chuckled, though the joke stung. “Drinking from Mnemosyne’s river would be pretty useful right about now.” Your tone was light, but the longing was unmistakable.

Yelena looked back at the statue. “Maybe you’re not supposed to get those years back,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe… they’re not important.”

There was a comfort in her words, as if forgetting allowed you to live in the present. To be new. To be whoever you decided you wanted to be.

After a while, you both settled on a bench in a quieter part of the gallery. The moment felt calm, with only the gaze of painted portraits and ancient relics to overhear you.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you started, the words slipping out quietly. “It’s about Bucky.”

Her brow lifted slightly, leaning in. “Oh?”

“He’s been staying with me.” You took a deep breath. “Sometimes he stays in my room. He’s been helping me regulate my nightmares.”

Yelena listened, her features falling as she gave you a small nod of encouragement.

"I think…” you trailed off, heart fluttering nervously, “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

Yelena’s expression stayed steady, but her eyes sharpened a bit. She nodded, but her face was unreadable.

“I’m happy for you,” she said, though there was a hint of hesitation that you didn’t catch. “You sound… at peace with him.”

Relief washed over you in waves. Yelena’s support mattered to you in ways you didn’t quite understand.

“I feel safe with him,” you admitted, a smile spreading across your face. “I don’t know how to tell him yet, but… it’s just nice to feel… something real.”

She reached across, giving your hand a small squeeze. “You deserve to feel safe.”

Her fingers lingered hesitantly before she let go.

An edge flicked behind Yelena’s eyes, a tension you couldn’t quite place. You thought it was just worry, the way she’d been looking out for you ever since everything went blank.

But her mind was piecing together things she knew about Bucky that you’d forgotten— that she wasn’t sure you were ready to hear.

As you shared more— about how Bucky had held you through the worst of your nightmares, how he stayed without ever asking anything in return— she listened.

She didn’t want to shatter the peace you’d found, not when you were finally beginning to reclaim your life.

Still, she knew there were parts of Bucky that could change everything if they came to light.

She had thought, naively, that Bucky would tell you. Maybe he was just waiting for the right moment

But the way you spoke about him made it clear he wouldn’t.

Wednesday.

Yelena found Sam in the gym, his back to her as he worked through the last of his reps.

Sam took a seat on the bench, ready to hear her out.

She didn’t waste any time. She said your name, voice barely above a whisper.

Sam knew Yelena was protective of you, especially now, after everything you’d been through. "Go on," he coaxed.

Yelena’s hands clenched into fists.

"She’s falling in love with Barnes, Sam." Her voice wavered, and she looked away for a second, like the thought of you being hurt was something she couldn’t bear. "But she doesn’t know what he was like before."

Sam’s shoulders slumped.

“I know,” he started. “But I don’t think he’s just pretending to care."

“But she doesn’t know.” Yelena’s voice cracked. "She doesn’t know he’s… he’s just trying to undo the damage he caused in the first place. I can’t let her fall for someone who’s hiding her own past from her." She took a shaky breath, blinking back the tears.

You were the first person who came as close as a sister to her since Natasha... and losing the last four years you had together had been harder on her than she'd like to admit. Losing you to grief, losing your trust? That would break Yelena. "She deserves the whole story. She deserves a choice.”

“It’s not that simple.” Sam looked away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I saw him. In the hospital, before she woke up. He was there, holding her hand, talking to her for days as if she could hear. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t let her be alone."

Bucky had faced what she couldn’t bring herself to — he’d seen you at your lowest, at the brink of death. When Yelena first heard what had happened, she had locked herself to waste away in her apartment, sinking to the floor as sobs destroyed her body.

She couldn’t go to see you— how could she?

She couldn’t bring herself to see even a hint of bruising on you. Couldn’t bear to witness the blood pooling on your head, the cuts on your limbs.

Hearing Sam tell her what happened to you had reminded her of losing Natasha.

The fear had paralyzed her. She couldn’t bear to see you unconscious, clinging to life by a fragile thread.

She hadn’t been there then, but Bucky had.

"It doesn’t change what he’s hiding.” She murmured, barely audible. “If he really cares about her, then he should be brave enough to tell her the truth.” Her voice trembled. “If she finds out he’s only with her to make up for his mistakes, to… to fix some guilt inside him, it’ll destroy her.”

No one’s allowed to destroy her, she thought, not after everything she had been through.

“It's not just guilt.” Sam insisted. "Every time I see them together, it doesn’t look like he’s trying to atone. I know Bucky much better than you do. It looks like he’d finally realised what he’d— that he’d… that he loves her.”

No, Yelena thought. She knew he always had feelings for you but there's no way he loves you more than I do.

She’d been there first; she knew you better than anyone, knew the sound of your laughter and the quiet sadness you tried to hide. She had loved you, the way she’d loved Natasha—like family. You were her sister in every way but blood.

But now, watching the way you talked about Bucky, the way he seemed to carry your pain as if it were his own...

Maybe he did love you more, in ways she couldn’t, in ways she’d never even considered.

“He still needs to tell her the truth,” her voice was much softer now, though no less fierce. “He owes her that much."

“Then talk to him,” Sam nodded. “Make him see what’s at stake.”

“And if he doesn’t tell her?” Yelena blinked. "I can’t watch her fall apart. Not again."

“Neither can I.” Sam’s voice strained as he packed his things into his duffel bag, "But let him try. Give him more time.”

Time.

Yelena knew better than most people that time was just a cruel joke running circles around mortals like her.

And she was getting impatient.

-to be continued…

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month ago

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Love That Burns ~ 20

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,810ish

Summary: Logan continues to do whatever is needed for you.

Warnings: nightmares, bad memories

Notes: I hope you like this! Let me know!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Your nightmare fueled flames had done more damage to the building than anyone had thought. The whole school was forced to live in the hotel for a month. Though, the parents who were willing did come and get their children quickly. You couldn’t help but feel terrible about the whole situation, despite what others had tried to tell you.

Logan and you continued to share a room and a bed. You always started out on different sides of the bed only to wake up cuddled together. Neither of you said anything of it.

You busied yourself throughout every day with caring for the students there at the hotel. Logan busied himself with keeping an eye out on you. He didn’t want to tell you that you had been catching items on fire in your sleep. Or been crying out and thrashing around. Logan had become a master at not waking you while he put the flames out or holding you tightly so that you weren’t able to hurt yourself. He knew that there was more going on in your mind than you had yet to admit and he hated it. So for now, Logan would have to be content to doing what he could.

Finally, it was the last night in the hotel. But you and Logan seemed to be the only ones on edge about it.

It would be the last time you shared a bed with him. And it killed you to even think about. You sat on the bed, staring at Logan as he brushed his teeth. He caught your eye in the mirror and quickly spit out the tooth paste.

“What’s going on?” He asked turning around.

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head.

“You don’t gotta do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie to me. Act that you’re protecting me or some shit. I can handle whatever you’re thinking.” You looked down at your lap. Logan sighed, coming over and sitting in front of you on the bed. “Talk to me.”

“I’m… overwhelmed…” Logan stayed silent at your admission, letting you continue. “I was tortured. My free will stripped from me by the man who rescued me from homelessness and ruined our lives.”

“Homelessness?”

You sighed. You had forgotten that Logan didn’t know—or remember—your story. “I was homeless because of my father. He killed my mother for being a mutant. He was going to kill me too… I didn’t know about my mutation until that night.”

It was then that Logan realized that you had told him everything you knew about his past and the past you shared, but nothing about your individual past. “How old were you?”

“Early teens. I was in my late thirties when Stryker found me on the streets… before I killed him, he tried to appeal to me. Tried to remind me that I wouldn’t be where I am today without him… it’s the truth. For better or worse… the thing is, is that he called you the animal but I’m the one that ended up killing him.”

“He was an evil man.”

“I’ve learned that that doesn’t always justify actions. You could’ve killed him too and didn’t.”

“I didn’t because you were standing there. If you hadn’t been, it would have been a whole different story.“ You stayed silent. He moved closer to you. “What else is bothering you?”

“A lot,” you mumbled.

“Tell me.”

“I… I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“You never could be, sweetheart. Not to me.”

You could have melted right then and there. If you only knew how much Logan truly meant that. How much he was doing for you without your knowledge, that he never intended to tell you about.

You opened up to Logan that night. About everything. Your past before meeting him, what happened after Charles found you. Your overwhelming emotions about recent events. Logan listened intently, giving comments and light touches when necessary but mostly just there.

“Thank you,” you told him after everything had been said. You were lying in the bed, ready to fall asleep.

“Nothing to thank,” he responded, leaning over and kissing your forehead. “Get some sleep.”

Your brain was too tired to comprehend anything you were saying anymore, but you still spoke. “I’m going to miss this… time with you.”

Logan’s brows furrowed. “What do ya mean?”

“It’s been different… it’s been good… like before…” You fell asleep almost as soon as the words left your mouth.

Logan’s lips pulled up into a small smile. He finished getting ready and slipped into bed. Tonight, he didn’t wait until your nightmare to pull you closer. Logan wanted to keep you next to him all night.

~~~

“Professor—“

“No.”

Logan halted near the entrance of Charles’ office. “You don’t even know—“

“I am telepathic, Logan, and your thoughts have been growing louder for weeks.”

“I need you to try to held me remember.”

“Logan, I told you—“

“I know what you said but I have to try something. Y/N is trying to put on a brace face but it’s hurting me to see how badly she’s hurting.”

“It could kill you or it may reveal something you didn’t want to remember. It could even make you lose everything again.”

“I don’t care. I have to try something.”

Charles studied Logan for a moment before sighing. It was clear that Logan was determined to do this and Charles would rather be the one to do it than Logan finding someone else who would.

“I will do it,” Charles agreed. “But I will stop if it gets too much, no matter if it’s working or not.”

~~~

Logan found you in your classroom, prepping for the week ahead. You smiled when you saw him come in.

“Hey, Lo,” you greeted. “What brings you around?”

“Need a favor, sweetheart,” he answered.

Your head tilted slightly to the side. Logan wasn’t one to ask for things, so this intrigued you. “What is it?”

He pulled a crinkled paper out of his jean pocket and handed it to you. “I need you to go to the store for me.”

You took the paper from him. “What? Are you serious? Why can’t you go yourself?”

“The Professor needs my help with a project.”

“A project?”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t go after?”

“Don’t know how long it’ll take.”

You sighed. “Fine.”

He shot you a smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You owe me.”

“Of course.”

~~~

Charles and Logan went down to the lab as soon as you were clear of the mansion. Colossus’s and Scott went down to help if needed. Logan was secured to the table as best as he could be, just in case something happened.

Rogue and Bobby were upstairs, put in charge of making sure you didn’t come down if you arrived home early. Though, Ororo had decided to come along with you and make sure you take your time. But you could tell that something was up because each time you had everything from Logan’s list in your cart, one of the items would disappear.

“Ororo,” you were irritated.

“What?” She replied, faux innocence.

“Stop taking things from the cart. I want to go home.”

“I wasn’t—“

“I will light you on fire so fast. I’m serious.”

You didn’t let Ororo get near the driver’s side of the car, already wary that Ororo would somehow get you lost on the way home. Rogue and Bobby were there at the door to meet you.

“Let me take those,” Bobby said, swiping the bags from your arms.

“Thanks?” You were growing more confused.

“Y/N! Bobby is going to take me out tonight and I need help choosing an outfit,” Rogue said, slipping her gloved arm through yours.

“I don’t know—“

“It’ll be fun.”

She began pulling you up the stairs. You were about half way up when you heard a scream.

“James,” you breathed out. You pulled your arm out of Rogue’s hold and turned around. Ororo and Bobby were standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Move.”

“We can’t do that,” Bobby said.

“Why not?”

“Logan asked—“

“Logan asked what?” Suddenly, it all made sense. The whole day. “Why did Logan need you guys to distract me?” Another loud scream echoed through the halls. “What is going on?”

Ororo sighed. “He asked Charles to try and help him regain his memories,” she told you.

“What? I need to get down there!” You rushed down the stairs, only for Ororo and Bobby to move to block you further. “He could make it worse!”

“Y/N—“

“Move, Ororo, or I will burn this place down to get to him.”

Ororo and Bobby shared a look before they stepped aside. You ran down to the lower levels, with the others close behind. As soon as the doors opened to the lab, you came to a screeching halt. Logan was screaming and struggling against the holds on the table while Charles was at his head, holding it between his hands with his eyes closed in concentration.

“Stop it!” You yelled. “Stop it now!”

“If I stop now, it could make it worse,” Charles stated calmly. You came to Logan’s side and reached out to him. “Don’t touch him.”

You pulled your hand back and leaned closer to Logan. “I’m right here, Logan. I’m here.”

He screamed out in pain, his claws releasing from his knuckles. Tears filled your eyes, hating to see Logan in any pain. You stood by, watching, until Logan eventually passed out. Everyone slowly filed out of the room beside you and Charles. Charles opened his eyes and pulled his hands away from Logan’s head.

“Did it work?” You whispered.

“We won’t know until he wakes,” Charles answered before rolling out of the room.

You set your hand on top of one of Logan’s, brushing it lightly until the claws slipped back into him.

“Wolverine,” Logan mumbled.

“Logan?” You called, trying to coax him awake more.

“Wolverine,” he repeated, slowly opening your eyes. “You told me that story about Coo Coo Ca Choo… it’s the reason I chose the name Wolverine. Do you remember that story?”

You let out a watery chuckle as tears fell. “Do I remember? Of course, I do.”

“You’re the moon and I’m your Wolverine… I’ve got to bring you more flowers.” With barely any use of strength, Logan sat up, breaking the restraints. His hands came up to gently hold your face.

Your hands came up to hold onto his wrists. “Do you remember anything else?”

He thought for a moment. There were still missing pieces to his memories, but a lot of you were there. “Just the important stuff, baby.”

“Why did you do that? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had to do something… I hate seeing you hurt.”

“You did it for me?”

“I would do anything for you, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”

next chapter >

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genderfluid-insomniac · 1 year ago

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Primal Urges/// Sun Wukong x Reader x Macaque NSFW

tags/kinks: predator vs prey, primal play, voice kink, overstimulation, power play, light restraints, oral sex, rough sex, bondage, marking, obedience training, double penetration, squirting, dirty talk, aftercare, possessiveness, possession, consensual sex, blow job, multiple orgasms, praise kink, choking

“What do you mean I’ve gotten too used to being safe?! Isn’t that a good thing?” You stared at your lovers with an incredulous expression and they gave you a look that said you weren’t getting out of this, internally thanking the weather for being nice. Wukong nodded and waved his hands in a so-so manner. “Yeah, it is great you feel safe but you won’t always have us to save you, sunshine. What would you do if you got into a fight with a powerful demon like Spider Queen and her lackeys or our brother Peng?-“ The shadow demon sitting on Sun’s shoulders interrupted with a laugh while he continued to groom his mate’s tangled hair and rolled his gold eyes to spare a glance at you.

“That poor excuse of a warrior is coward but he is good in combat when it comes down to a fight. I’ll give him that.” Now shifting his attention completely to you, “Peaches is right though, you need to learn more than basic defense.” You knew some pretty good self-defense techniques from a class you took and with the help of the shadow peach duo and their knowledge of weapons plus combat experience. They weren’t wrong but it still hurt to hear that even if it was the truth. But something told you this wasn’t going to be normal training, the way both of their eyes lit up with anticipation and poofy tails swayed dangerously from side to side.

Sighing tiredly, you leaned against the rocky mountainside and nodded your head. “Fine, but what type of training is it this time.” The ginger looked up at the midnight-colored monkey and seemingly made silent communication with each other before turning back to you, grinning wildly at the fantasies going through their own minds and lowly chuckling. The king spoke up attempting to hide his eagerness, “We’re going to be playing a game of chase. You, sunshine, are going to try to escape from us and we’re going to be chasing after you.”

……Yeah, this definitely wasn’t a double entendre or anything, but being able to outrun your opponent helps you get more time for strategizing an attack or finding help, and your endurance could use some work. However, being that your goal was to evade some of the most powerful beings you knew, how did they think you stood a chance against them? “How is this fair? You both are-” Macaque interrupted and sat up straight, “Crazy powerful? There’s a catch for us too, lotus.” Leaning back off the king’s shoulders and letting gravity pull him towards the earth, causing panic to instinctively shoot through your veins.

He unknowingly (to you at least) appeared behind you via shadow portal and got close to your ear, whispering the rest of his sentence against the flushed shell of your ear and noticing you shiver and jump at the close proximity. “We can use any of our abilities. Means Wukong will not be allowed to use any of his powers including flying and I along with the same rule will dampen my hearing to about normal range for demons using this talisman.” You were speechless at first at the opportunity and although it was clear to the three of you that something else was at play you couldn’t pass this up, staring at the strip of inked paper held between his clawed fingers and nodding with a sure grin.

“I’m game, moonlight. How could I pass up this chance when something tells me it’s going to be worth it?” Wukong flicked his tail back and forth, rolling on the balls of his feet before getting closer to you wrapping his arms around your waist. The smile on your face was infectious as it spread to your boyfriend, he closed the distance between you both and cuddled against your chest.

It was evident that even though he was still sleepy he had energy to burn with the way his ears twitched and tail rapidly flicked back and forth. Wukong breathed in your scent and blissfully dug his claws into your cotton shirt, his voice deep and still new from the morning. “It’ll be worth it. If you manage to evade even one of us then you’ll be rewarded but if one of us catches you then we get rewarded.”

“Why do you both get rewarded for tackling me when it’s training for me?” Partially laughing at the usual absurdity that came with courting these two and leaning your head against Macaque's shoulder behind you. “Because your beloved mates get so tired from chasing you around isn’t only right you tend to us?” Glad to know he was still dramatic.

“Just the other day we spent hours in the hot springs while I groomed your fur until it was pristine which I loved because you let me sleep when you carried me out. I’ve been with you two for the past week and I have no issues with it but you both get enough coddling from me.” You rolled your eyes, enjoying the warmth they both provided before a question popped into your head.

“Where are we going to do this though? On the mountain?” The king picked you up bridal style and carried you while you all got to the destination, walked through a nearby forest path, and chirped at some nearby monkeys who were eating their breakfast. Eventually, you were both led to a clearing where a new structure stood, very clearly planted recently evident by the fresh dirt or magically grown seeing as this wasn’t here as far as you knew yesterday. “Nevermind…”

This answered your question as you “walked” toward the tall bush maze and first noticed how you could barely see through the hedges, no matter how hard you looked or how close you got it was like trying to look through solid concrete. You hopped out of Wukong’s arms and brushed your hands against the tiny pointed leaves then turned to them, wondering how this was done. “How-” “I called in a favor.”

Who in the world owes your boyfriend a favor….best not to worry about it for now. Pushing your arms above your head you started to stretch, moving from your arms and core to your legs and calves. The reaction you got to warming up your hamstrings was not so shocking as you were standing up and folding yourself forward to hug your legs. “Yeah! Keep that stretch for a minute or two, looks good from here-” Meaning your ass was unintentionally facing them.

You grabbed two small stones and flicked them at both demons, knowing that although only Sun made the comment Macaque was definitely thinking the same if not worse seeing as he was quiet right now. “Ow! What’d you hit me for I didn’t do anything.” You huffed and slowly stood back up. “I know you were thinking the same Macaque!” From behind you, you heard the monkey mutter about how you still have good aim at least.

Soon enough you were drawing a line the sand that was the starting line and put your foot on it focusing on your breath control. In order to keep a good headway you needed to get into the right mindset and that meant ignoring all the possible things both men would attempt to make you screw up. “OK ok. I got this. Use the hug left or right method.” The wind cooling down your skin being warmed by the sun and the chirping of nearby critters who wouldn’t cause any problems, the still and tall leafy walls in front of you seemed more intimidating now that you were facing off with it.

Wukong whistled to catch your attention and gave you a thumbs up, lining himself and Macaque up behind you holding a phone timer. “We’re gonna give you a 10-second head start and then go after you. That sounds good, Name?” You nodded and prepared to count down mentally.

All of your thoughts buzzed around in your head, anxious to get started and burn off the energy bouncing around in you. “Start!” Hearing that one word triggered you to start sprinting immediately hugging the right wall, your hand outstretched so you could feel the hedge as you kept track of where you were.

Four ways. Right turn. Long sprint. “Just keep doing this. Focus.” A familiar deep laugh echoed from the shadows in the next right turn you were about to take and forced you to stop on your heels. Popping off in the other direction on instinct with the adrenaline fueling your legs to run faster and attempt to ignore the smooth voice luring you onto a wrong path.

“Fuck. Why does his voice have to be so hot?!” You harshly whispered and groaned as quietly as you could, continuing to run until you heard footsteps in the path next to you and leading to the opening coming up on your right. “Sweetheart, had I known you loved my voice so much I would’ve teased you till my voice went hoarse but something tells me you’ll be the one losing your voice when I get my hands on you.” Your heart rate skyrocketed and you cursed yourself.

Why did that bastard have to have six ears and an incredible sense of hearing?! “It’s hard for me to focus when such a sweet fragile mortal is ripe for the taking. Am I right, bud?” Macaque. Wait- Bud? Had Sun already caught up to you?!

You whipped your head behind you before shifting your momentum to push the next right turn, hopefully putting yourself back on track. There was no one right behind you and nothing you could hear yet unless he was purposely being silent to sneak up on you. Think, what would he do in this situation? Besides transforming into another animal and he would attack from a blind spot! Your next action was immediate as you flipped backward so your back was to the hedge and took off in a sprint like your life depended on it.

“You’re right, moonshine. They look delightful and they’re clever too, predicting our next actions.” In the corner of your eye, you locked gazes with his red sclera and gold eyes for a split second before you turned around. Guessing he dropped his glamour for a moment to try to scare you and not did it not work, it had the opposite effect of slightly arousing you in addition to the thrill of being chased by two predators but your lovers. The thought of your reward, if you succeeded, didn’t leave your mind.

The exit was just ahead you could feel it and the pair were gaining on you, another right turn and you’d be done. “Almost there-” You jumped just before the exit and your heart soared at the fastly approaching accomplishment. “Aw, you almost had it, sweetheart.” Two bodies slammed into you, one of them shielding your body from getting bruises on the ground and the other on top of you effectively trapping you in a sandwich. Fuck.

Macaque, who was the one beneath you, cooed at your attempt and wrapped his arms around your waist. “And you were so close too. Too bad but this means we get our reward.” Tightening his grasp on you as Wukong took your hands and pinned them to the grass below you. He got close to your ear and whispered, the beat of your heart practically could be heard from outside your body. “Okay, what do you two want?”

Your lovers looked back and forth between themselves before slipping their hands under your clothes and squeezing your flushed sweaty skin. “To fuck you raw.” A chill was sent down your spine as you looked up to see borderline predatory eyes staring you up and down like a meal. Their tails flicked around eagerly awaiting your answer and you felt feel Macaque place kisses up the side of your neck, his dick slowly becoming hard against your lower back.

“O-Okay.” A part of you wasn’t shocked but another part of you was still catching up from the adrenaline intoxicating your body. The shadow demon spoke up from beneath you, rubbing comforting circles on your waist. “You don’t have to lotus. We can do this another time.” Neither of them wanted to pressure you into a situation you didn’t want but clearly, you were game if the slow roll of your hips against both of their groins had anything to say.

“Mhmm- Alright, sunshine. If that’s how you wanna play, bring it. Remember our safeword?” You nodded and whispered it to them, squirming at both erections pressing against you but not hard enough to give you pleasure. Soft moans filled the air and you tried your best to grind against either of them to no avail as Macaque kept your hips still in a steel grip. “Moonlight, please. Let me move, I’ll do anything.”

Perhaps bargaining would have worked had they not worked their primal urges up by chasing you but they already knew this would be the end result from the start. Wukong kept your wrist tight held in one hand while the other palmed your clothed pussy, teasing it with pinches and his claws using their sharpness to graze your clit.

Determined to draw moan after moan from you till you indeed lost your voice. Macaque spoke directly in your ear, his hot breath ghosting the shell of your ear. “I want you to beg about how you want us to fuck you and how you’ll cum to my voice. You’re our slut after all.” Your arousal grew more at his degrading and true words, your lover's deep raspy voice caused your pussy to throb and your hips to involuntarily spasm. The clothes on your body needed to come off and you’d do anything to do get an orgasm from them or any touch down there.

“Macaque Sun, ugh~ I want you to fuck me,” His hand slipped up to your nipples and pinched them, “How?” Another lewd moan left your lips and your head arched back. “I want you to fuck me with your cocks. I need them in me and I want them to fuck me until I can’t walk. Ahh~” You strained your hands against Wukong’s grip, “I’m going to cum to your voice. I love your voice, love. It's deep, rich, and calming.” The shadow rolled your nipple in his hands and moved his hand to grip your ass.

He knew how you loved to relax to it and when he hummed or let an occasional moan slip during sex. It wasn’t the first time he’d been told this but hearing over and over again from the people he craved the most was music to his ears. “Good, good. Such a good slutty mate. What do you think, Sun?”

His partner hadn’t stopped rubbing circles on your clit and was desperately holding himself back from ripping off your clothes and fucking you raw. The king’s tail whipped behind him before curling around your upper thigh and letting out a low growl. “I think they deserved an orgasm.” You heard a rip as Wukong cut open a slit in your leggings and felt his finger harshly press against your clit. Both of them ground their cocks against your legs, frantic to get a release from their building arousal.

In seconds all the pleasure wound up in your wet cunt is released and you orgasm on Sun’s fingers. A loud moan leaked from your throat and warm juices dribbled onto his fingers. “Such a good whore for their kings.” The strength had been zapped from your body and yet you still yearned for more, pleas for yet another orgasm hit their ears. Macaque didn’t stop playing with your chest when he stopped kissing and biting your neck to glance up at Wukong.

“Hm, so greedy.” He clicked his tongue and pinched your sensitive nipple. “I think you should give us our reward if you want to cum again. Peaches?” You lifted your lidded eyes and focused on your boyfriend above you who had a smug teasing grin. “I agree. Since moonshine and I won our little game of chase you’re going to obey every order we give you. Understand?”

The same clawed hand that had played with your clit trailed up through your breast and lifted your chin so you were eye to eye with Sun. Lust clouded his eyes and there was no doubt it could be seen in yours, swallowing the thrill in the back of your throat. “Yes-” Wukong interrupted her and gripped your chin. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, my kings.” You saw his smile widen and felt yourself be lifted up with Macaque’s help, stumbling back into his chest and nodding when he whispered if you were alright. After confirmation, he voiced a command. “Strip. First yourself and then us.” This would’ve been simple since you’d done it before but your muscles ached and standing was difficult but you were high on pleasure to care.

So you slowly took off all your workout clothes and tossed them to the side, figuring that taking off all of Wukong’s clothing would take a while, and carefully moved towards him. Nearly falling when your knees decided it was good to collapse, you were caught by the monkey in front of you and he laughed softly. “Careful, sunshine. I’d love to see you on your knees but not right now.” He pressed a quick but sweet kiss to your lips as you untied his cape and lifted his heavy chest-plate armor off him which landed with a loud thud.

Then he moved to his vibrant red sash on his waist which also held up the fabric draped over his pants so that it was easy to pull off his long gold shirt, shoes, and pants till he was just left with his boxers. “I think I prefer you nude than all dressed up, my king.” You purred out and tantalizingly slowly pulled them down, testing to see if he’d break and noticing his hands form into firsts. His pretty pink cock stood hard and angry, leaking buds of precum.

Your mouth watered and you felt someone creep out of your shadow, unable to hold himself back any longer as he stroked himself through his pants seeing you strip down his boyfriend till he was naked. “Now it’s my turn, lotus.” You turned around and followed the same steps with his worn-out cape and halved kimono top which kept his hip guards up. However like before you got nice and close, leaving inches both of your lips feigning a kiss until you pulled his black long-sleeved shirt over his head.

Laughing at the annoyed groan he made and pulled his pants down along with his boxers. “Where’d you learn these tricks, Name?” His smirk crept into his voice and hands circled your waist, finally getting the kiss you withheld from him and pulling you closer. “I just learned it from someone who thinks they’re so suave.” You felt his erect cock slap against your dripping pussy and moaned at the sensation, going to plead for more when you were pushed onto your knees.

“You’re going to suck and worship my cock like the king I am, sunshine. It’s my reward after all, right?” Wukong walked from behind you next to Macaque and tilted your head up, the tip of his dick rested on your lips and prodded your mouth. Without needing an order, you opened your mouth and started giving kitten licks to the tip while your hands pumped the rest of his shaft. “Mhm~ Yeah Ngn~ That’s it. Just like that.” The stone monkey tilted his head back and gripped the back of your neck as you took his mushroom-like head into your mouth.

You didn’t notice the dark-haired monkey dip into a shadow and reappear beneath you, his arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling your attention away from the blow job you were just starting to give. “Don’t mind me, sweetheart. I’ll just be redeeming my reward down here~” Sun’s hand on the back of your head guided your head up and down the length of his cock and you felt your nose touch his pubic bone, moaning loudly when Macaque took an experimental lick up the strip of your pussy.

He snickered at your resulting reaction which also sent pleasure through his boyfriend's dick as you let out lewd noises while you sucked his cock like a popsicle and anchored himself against your dripping cunt. Mumbles of how good you tasted and why you and your pussy belonged to him couldn’t but catch your attention, especially when you glanced down and your slick mixed with his saliva covered his mouth.

Pearly fang marked your upper thighs with hickeys and bruises to tell others you were taken by the Sixed-Eared Macaque and The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. You felt his tongue start curiously exploring what caused you to moan louder and targeted those areas, learning very quickly how to make you cum from just his tongue. “Mhmmm~ Ma- Mm” Momentarily you forgot that your mouth was full and gagged at Sun’s cock touching the back of your throat.

“Breathe through your- ngh~ nose, sunshine” Your lover managed to spit out as he staggered his breathing and gripped your hair tightly. Doing as suggested, you focused on breathing through your nose and feeling his hand intertwined with yours, giving it a squeeze and doing the same back to signal that you were alright. Macaque was still sucking on your pussy like he hadn’t had a drink in days eager to get more reactions out of you and got a chorus of moans as he hit a spot that made you see stars.

Sun’s cock was brushed by your tongue and dipped in and out of your mouth, saliva and precum cover your mouth as you messily hold back a gag reflex and whined when he thrusts into your face. Unable to hold back any longer and cupping your jaw, he apologized rapidly for being rough and getting louder and louder. “Yes- ngh~ please!! Please! I’m gonna cum!”

You rubbed circles on his hips and arched your back when the demon below you pinched your clit and sucked harshly which snapped the rising orgasm coiling in your core. “Mhm, there you are a princess! Give it all to me!” The pleasure crashing over you like a wave and crying out in euphoria. The pulses of your voice vibrating his dick and triggering his orgasm in tandem, Sun’s voice becoming high pitched and whining like a bitch in heat.

“Fuck- ‘m cumming-” Bitter warm liquid shot down your throat and coated your tongue, his penis still jolting in your warm mouth and riding out his orgasm. Sun comforting steadied his breathing and loosened his grip on your face, whispering praises and apologies for being rough. “I’m sorry if I was too rough, sunshine. Such a good mate for us…our lovely Name.”

Your other lover however wasn’t done and kept going. Determined to eat you out like it was his last meal, the shadow demon was addicted to your taste and could feed off you for days without stopping. “’m not done. I’m going to make sure that you’re unable to walk for days.” You swallowed and leaned against your king who gladly caught you.

“My kings, be gentle- mhm,” Both responded by softly kissing your neck and licking the bitemarks made all along your body. “I want you both in me! I feel empty.” Macaque chuckled and murmured something about finally being able to fulfill his promise to you. They stroked their cocks to get hard again which didn’t take long given your arousal sexual state in front of them panting and whining from overstimulation.

Slowly both demons rubbed the tips of their dicks against your sopping cunt and pushed into your hole, Wukong sweetly rubbed your labia when you hissed from the stretch. Breathing deeply and giving the okay when the pain faded, both lovers sandwiched you between them and started moving at a rhythmic pace. “Ah- fuck- So tight!”

You had already cum twice and the overstimulation was attacking your nerves like lightning. Both pain and pleasure courses through you’re body

“Hey moonlight, looks like our little slut has been fucked dumb.” Sun leaned close to your ear, giving you a show with a raspy growl and biting the skin of your collar bones harder than before. “Who do- ugh- you belong to?” Pinching the skin between his fangs His free hand trailed down to play with your chest. Macaque wrapped his hand around your neck and gripped it tight, kneeling so he could thrust into your abused cunt.

Their speed was inhuman, Sun matched it and you couldn’t speak, only letting out moans and whimpers. Feeling the wall you’d come so close to starting to crumble and barely spitting out a response when he bit harder as a warning to answer the question. “You. I’m yours!” No one would ever get close to giving as much pleasure and pure joy as they did, knowing your body like the back of their hands and safely pushing to your breaking point. “Say our names!- mhg”

Their real names, the ones only you had the privilege of screaming out in complete lust and drunk on their cocks. “I belong to Liu ‘Er Mihou and S-sun Wukong! Ahh~ I yours and only yours.” Your lovers look at you broken and sex-crazed, smirking at the flutter of your eyes as they speed up slowly racing towards their highs as well. Beautiful scars littered Macaque's chest and sweat dripped down to his toned stomach, dark fur was wet and tangled knots were visible as you looked closer.

Wukong appearance was just a disheveled, peach-colored fur no longer resembling a heart on his bare chest and red sclera contrasting his stunning gold irises. “Yes you -ah fucking are!” He pinched and groped your tits as Macaque viciously pounded into you like a bitch in heat, loud unapologetic moans and cries came from your mouth as you orgasmed. “Cumming!” Your walls sucked both of their dicks hard and contracted around their tips, devilishly begging for their cum.

“‘m cumming too-“ “Same here, peaches~” Your demons fucked you as they worked you all through your orgasms, feeling warm liquid fill your insides and slick squirting onto you and Macaque’s pelvis. Fuck you squirted. No one had been able to do that before…..it wasn’t a myth?! Harsh breathing was all you could hear for a couple of minutes, all of you shifted back to stable states and bathed in your after-sex glow.

Your pussy twitched at everything that brushed it and sent pangs of pain to your brain, pleading for a break and thankful it was often. Slowly, both of them pulled out, their breath hitching and biting their lips. “My mates. All mine.” Of course, Wukong recovered faster than others and immediately took to cuddling you all up, lifting you both gently onto his soft somersault cloud forgetting your clothes entirely.

“We all need a-“ You interrupted the shadow demon and kissed his cheek with a kind smile, “A bath? Yes, we do. That’s why I’m guessing, Peaches is bringing us to the hot springs or at least somewhere in that direction…you guys almost broke me.” You fell back against them both, hearing them chuckle and grabbing hands comfortably. He looked to where Sun was leading them and saw a familiar hot spring with homemade privacy screens surrounded by blooming willow trees.

“Just rest, sunshine. You did great at the training and nearly escaped us on the first try, that’s great! Maybe next time let’s not get carried away with the rewards” The king sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and elbowed his boyfriend, who looked offended at the comment like he hadn’t been as sex hungry. You could barely hear the cocky “No promises.” from Macaque as you were carried into the hot spring, the warm water soothing all the marks and sore muscles you had.

“You can sleep, lotus. We’ll take care of you.” Hearing that, you stopped fighting sleep and let it pull you into the depths of your unconscious. “Rest up, sunshine. We love you.”

#lmk x reader #lmk macaque #lmk macaque x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #lego monkie king #monkie kid macaque #lego monkie kid x reader

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mattsfavbigtitties · 2 months ago

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Taboo/ Matt S.

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, corruption of innocence, priest kink, creampie, no protection, virgin kink,

Summery: After Sunday service, Father Matthew teaches you a new lesson you've never heard of.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

One afternoon, your mother comes into your room seeing you watch cartoons. She tells you that you need to focus more on the Lord and quit watching that mind boggling rainbow pony show all the time.

She repeats that next time at church, she'll have the new priest give you more insight on the oh so precious Lord above.

You reluctantly agree in spite of your mother running everything you do and don’t. That Sunday, your mother makes sure to bring it up to the new head priest, Father Matthew, about “possibly more lessons on the Bible” as she put it.

And of course(to your unfortune) he agreed to teach you some “very physically embracing readings”. A little suspicious if you ask yourself. You were well aware of most things in life.

Having looked at social media on school computers and using a friend's phone a few times. You knew basic knowledge like, sex ed and (most) bad things happening around other cities. You had a very curious mind which sometimes led you to some crazy encounters and punishments from your parents.

Soon enough, the end of service came; your parents and all the others said goodbyes to one another, leaving you with Father Matthew; alone.

“Come along to the back, dear.” Father made a wave of his hand toward himself to have you follow him, the other held his own Bible. He walks down the hallway to one of the back classrooms; you follow behind in small steps.

Your hands clasped together at your front, fiddling with your nails. In the room is a long rectangle table filled with chairs. You take a seat on one of the far chairs away from the door, Father Matthew grabbed something from within a drawer and sat beside you.

“Should I get a Bible?” You ask, moving slightly as you get up to grab said item. Yet Matthew’s arm stops you from getting up as he says, “No need, I’ve already got everything needed.” and sends you a mischievous smile.

He let his hand run across your white lace trim, feeling the slight tremble of your stomach as you scooch back a bit to get away from the wandering fingers.

“W-what are you doing?” “You know, you’re very beautiful, dear.” His eyes dart from your waist to your own eyes and he sees the anticipation build in them.

He smirks and proceeds to move his hand down further to your floral covered thigh. You swallow slowly, reaching both hands to cover Matthew’s in a way to stop him.

“Are we-not doing the lesson?” Your voice holds confusion mixed with surprise and happiness.

You weren’t really looking forward to spending this afternoon at church still with Father Matthew when your favorite show is hosting a new season that very night. You were very much excited for it!

“I have a different kind of lesson ready for you. It involves you bending over and lots of physical touch.” Your eyes widened at the words coming out of his mouth, Father Matthew’s mouth. You never would’ve thought you’d be in this predicament.

The new pastor of the very church you grew up in, wanting to essentially have sex with you? Or was this all a dream? You knew you had thought of Father Matthew as the most handsome man you’d ever seen, but was it really that deep you’d dream about him in this way?

And to think this would be the first man you’ve ever had to sleep with; if you agree of course. “F-father Matthe-” You get interrupted, “Just Matt is fine, sweetheart.”

You go on with your sentence, “Father Matt, what are you saying?” You want to make sure you heard him right and if so, you really would like to do it. And as you've heard from a few friends, it's feels very, very good. He chuckled at your furrowed brows and rubbed his thumb along the side of your thigh.

You clenched your thighs slightly to try and calm the tingling sensation between them, but enough to have Matt feel the movement.

“You know what I mean, dear. I want to fuck you. So hard that all you’ll feel for days is my dick reminisce.”

You gasp at his words.

You could hear your own heart pounding. For once in your life, you actually feel like your on fire. You feel your ears get hot and

And before you can said anything in response, he grabbed ahold of your jaw and pulled you in for a bruising kiss. His lips immediately moved against yours with a sense of urgency, as you let him take charge.

His hand tightened on your thigh and moved closer to your clothed sex. You melted into him, your body instinctively curling closer, jolts going through your spine. You had never imagined this would happen.

Never imagined you’d be kissing a man like this, let alone the priest of your church; Father Matt. It just felt so right.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "Such a good girl. My gorgeous sweetheart."

Pressure building in your head as your blood pumped hard in your veins; you whimpered pathetically as Father Matt lapped at your drooling mouth.

Matt hooked his fingers underneath the hem of your dress, lifting it all the way to just below your tummy, revealing your bare skin and pale white panties with a bow at center. He chuckled in amusement at the cute display before standing up.

He pulled your body with him and shoved your front hips against the table as all you could do was stand in shock. "You want my cock, sweetheart? You ever felt one imside before?" His eyes trailed down your curves, rubbing his thumbs along your sides, sending chills across your back.

You hummed in acknowledgement and shook your head, "This will be my first one Father."

He hiked up your dress for a second time and hurriedly slid your panties to the side, his fingers digging into the fleshy parts of your ass.

Right then, Matt smirked as he rolled his kackis and boxers down his thighs just enough to slide his stiff cock out.

"A virgin Mary, huh." He stated from behind, misheivious tone to the infamous words.

He massaged his length against your opening, his mouth drooping open in awe of how tight you felt already. For a moment, the way his head grazed against your throbbing clit nearly intoxicated you enough to forget he was the(very handsome and good looking) priest.

Father Matt partially lined up his own throbbing length between your legs before thrusting it inside of you; no warnings.

Your scream echoed through the room you were in, not expecting such brutal force from such nice man. Though you do know the saying 'don't judge a book by its cover'. In this case, you should've.

The room became seemingly filled with the sounds of your sex, echoing back to you off of every surface. The very walls of the house of God you worship.

His hands wandered up to your prominent, bulging chest. He squeezed and prodded before finally tugging down your bust area along with your bra cups.

He flicked your nipples ambitiously getting multiple whines and whimpers falling from your plush lips with jerks of your hips back against him.

Matt raised a single hand to your mouth, concluding your loudness was just a bit too loud. You clawed at the wooden table as you let your screams muffle into Father Matt's hand.

"What if someone were to come in, slut? Ohh, I bet you'd like that huh? Want someone to catch sweet little 'ol Y/n, the oh so innocent church girl, fucked so deep in the guts she doesnt even know what's happening." The sensation of Matt's cock sliding against your walls rapid was so intense that you started to crawl away from him.

He clawed your hips, pulling you back hard onto him. "Where you running to, dear? Is my dick that good you can't handle it?" He said, refocusing his thrusts to hit that special spot once more.

Mere seconds away from a new feeling coarsing through your lower half, Matt ceased his thrusts and pulled away, leaving you out of breath and starving for more.

His fingers gribbed your hips and-not so gracefully-flipped you around so you were sat on the table, legs spread wide with him in between. He continued on and lined his cock up once again to your aching cunt, shoving his whole length as deep as your pussy aloud him to.

You could barely release a breath as your walls stretched around the strange but pleasured feeling. Your body moved in small jerks as you became accustomed to his size again.

His hand drifted curiously down your mound, brushing over your slicked lips that seemed to open and welcome him in. "You're my best girl, right sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? Your first ever orgasm, pretty. And it's all for me." Your breath sputtered at the foriegn feeling as his fingers explored how wet you were for him in such limited time, playing with your clit, rubbing side to side until your thighs began to shake.

"Uh! Uh-huhhh, 'm gonna-yeah" You gulped out.

Almost as if your orgasmic feeling from before was simply put on hold for only seconds, the way Father Matt's dick prodded at your g-spot had you quickly moaning and begging for more of whatever pleasure you could get.

Your legs shook violently, your combined wetness squelching between your thighs, as your orgasm pulsed over you in quakes, washing you in a mix of chills and warmth as your legs shook in tremors of glorious pleasure you really never thought you'd ever feel.

A tear streamed down your cheek as his dick practically consumed all the air from inside your lungs. He reach a hand to wipe a single tear off your flushed pink cheeks as he chuckled and watched your face contort in numerous different expressions. Most of pure joy and pleasure.

Father Matt started pounding you so good that your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the weight of your head lolling back and forth on each of your shoulders.

He devoured you whole with his dark, lustful gaze. Your mind slipped away into the intense mix of pain and pleasure you felt from his heavenly dick, absolutely stretching you to your final limit.

”L-love this! Cumming, Father!" You eyes squeezed tightly together, hips rotating up and down, wanting impossibly more friction against your clit.

At these words, Matt rolled his hips more intensely. You cried out, unable to move as his body weight pinned you down. Elbows on the table around your head. His groans became loud and unsteady as your tightness and clenching sucked him right back in.

"I'm gonna cum." He groaned into your neck, his teeth grazed your sensitive, flushed skin.

He held you tightly against him as he pumped his full load into you, painting your insides with his sticky liquid.

Soon after, Matt pulls out and cleans both of your bodily fluids up as you starighten out your dress and wipe away any tear tracks.

"Why don't I take you home, dear?" Father Matthew smiled kindly, advancing his hand for yours.

You grinned back, lacing your fingers with his.

"As long as we can do it again, Father Matt."

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Taglist: @riowritesitall @conspiracy-ash @huhmiya @matt-2002fan @ericshoney

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #mathew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #soph'saus #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo smut #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #mattsfavbigtitties #mattsfavbigtittiesaus #the sturniolo triplets smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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theostrophywife · 1 year ago

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kiss with a fist | chapter six.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: w.i.t.c.h. - devon cole

author's note: some cute soft fluff cause i'm in a tender mood.

In all your years at Hogwarts, you could count the amount of times you’ve attended a quidditch game on one hand and you wouldn't even need to utilize all of your fingers. Needless to say, you weren’t really into the rowdiness and belligerence of sporting events, but a bargain was a bargain. You were just glad to have Luna with you. Even if it meant enduring Pansy Parkinson’s presence.

“Be nice,” Luna warned as you approached the stands.

“I won’t bite if she doesn’t,” you murmured back.

Luna nodded, knowing that it was the closest thing to an agreement she was ever going to get out of you. Despite your surliness, your friend seemed to brighten the minute she spotted Pansy. In a sea of blue and gold, the dark haired witch was the only one clad in green and silver. Your housemates kept exchanging wary glances at the Slytherin in their midst, but they were wise enough to keep their mouths shut.

You watched quietly as Pansy and Luna exchanged pleasantries. While your friend was generally a bubbly person, she seemed extra giddy as she spoke. There was something about the way that she softened that convinced you to ease up on the scowls. It must have been contagious, because Pansy actually smiled and it wasn’t a derisive sneer or a smug smirk, but a genuine smile. You didn’t even know the witch was capable of it.

Finally, she seemed to take stock of your presence. The dark haired girl jutted her chin out proudly, her aristocratic features schooled into forced neutrality. It occurred to you that Pansy probably received a similar warning to attempt decency.

“Y/N,” she said.

“Pansy,” you replied.

The two of you eyed each other. Sizing up your opponent. The eagle versus the snake, claws against teeth. The staredown was purely psychological warfare.

You squinted. Hurt her and I’ll maim you.

The silent warning didn’t seem to offend Pansy. Instead, she gave a subtle nod of her chin and made way for you and Luna to sit. You settled in, trying not to peer down at the drop. Heights had never really been your thing.

Pansy observed you curiously as Luna patted your arm. “Y/N’s not a big fan of heights.”

“Oh?” Parkinson asked.

“I generally prefer solid ground. It reduces the chances of me falling and breaking my neck.” The corner of Pansy’s mouth quirked. “What about you, Parkinson? Are you keen on flying?”

“A bit.”

Luna brightened. “She’s being modest. Pansy here is a very talented flyer. She’s got an Abraxan named Circe.”

“The most powerful witch to ever live,” you noted. “She used to turn men into swine.”

“A lost art, really.”

You smirked. “The classic femme fatale. A personification of the dangers of femininity. They always paint powerful women in a terrible light, don’t they?”

“Perhaps it makes the men feel better about their own inadequacies.”

“We’re always making men feel better about their inadequacies,” you answered thoughtfully. “Convenient that the myths fail to mention that Circe was one of the first pharmakis. Modern magic would not be what it is without her extensive knowledge of herbs and plants and yet she’s rarely credited in any potions books we read.”

Pansy nodded, eyeing you in amusement. “I can see why Nott has taken a liking to you.”

You turned to Luna who immediately shook her head. Pansy laughed. “Don’t worry, Lovegood didn’t tell me a thing. She didn’t have to. Theodore never stops talking about you, you know.”

There was no hiding the flush that crept up to your cheeks. “We’re both vying for the top spot in Slughorn’s class. I assume he has a lot to say about his competition.”

“It’s more than that,” Pansy said. “I’ve known Theodore since birth and I’ve never seen him put this much effort into anything. He’s always been naturally talented at potions, given his mum’s background, but you challenge him. For the first time in a long time, he’s found someone who’s actually up to par. I, for one, enjoy watching you put him in his place.”

You smiled. “I quite enjoy it too.”

Luna looked at you, then at Pansy before a huge grin graced her lips. It was obvious that she was pleased at the sight of her best friend and her…potential more-than-friend getting along.

The game started not long after. Your comprehension of the rules were rudimentary at best, but Luna made sure to explain as best as she could. From what you gathered, there were four positions: seeker, beater, chaser, and keeper. The chasers attempted to score as many goals as they could by throwing the quaffle through the posts, which the keepers guarded. The beaters used the bludgers to disrupt the other players. The seeker, on the other hand, needed to catch the golden snitch. All while floating on a broom hundreds of feet in the air.

This match, Pansy explained, had been anticipated to be the most brutal of the season. The enmity between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins translated very clearly on the field. While there had always been a divide of support between the other houses, you could tell that the majority of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands were cheering for the Gryffindors.

You wondered how that made the Slytherins feel. Three houses against one. After the war, Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic droned on and on about the importance of unity and reconciliation. Professor Slughorn even delivered a speech during your first potions class, but the disparity between words and actions were painfully obvious.

The rest of the school still mistrusted the Slytherins. If any of them cared, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Especially not as they played. The quidditch team was deadly. You watched as green and silver robes whizzed past, familiar names sprawled on the jerseys. Malfoy, Zabini, Riddle, Berkshire, Warrington, Rosier, and Nott.

Theo winked as he flew past your portion of the stands. You rolled your eyes, but held your breath as he careened towards one of the goal posts. Ron Weasley stood guard, squinting suspiciously at Theo. The flash of the quaffle was too fast for your eyes to follow, but it sliced the air all the same, slipping through an opening above Ron’s shoulder. The redhead cursed as Theo gave him a mocking bow.

Pansy was the lone witch in your section to cheer for the Slytherins. Luna joined her in solidarity when the crowd grew quiet. Suspicious glances were cast in your direction, which you rebuffed with a menacing glare. They all found something else to look at rather quickly.

Displeasure rippled over the crowd as the Slytherins kept scoring. Theo was an unstoppable force. Warrington and Riddle flanked him at each side, throwing bludgers at anyone who attempted to thwart his efforts. The other two chasers, Berkshire and Zabini, circled around them in an aerial formation that confused the opposing team. The Gryffindors grew increasingly frustrated when Evangeline Rosier kept rebuffing their attempts to score.

Both teams played well, but the Slytherins were ruthless, tactical, and efficient. They used the opposing team’s weaknesses against them. The Gryffindors tended to be over reactive and Theo used it to his advantage. He baited them into making rash plays, which left openings for him and the other chasers to exploit.

By the end of the game, it was Berkshire who scored the winning goal. The discrepancy between the cheers and booing was insurmountable, but Pansy didn’t seem to care. She cheered for the team louder than anyone. As the win was formally announced, you heard murmurs coming from below you.

“Stupid Death Eater bitch.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Pansy tense. Luna’s mouth hung agape as she wheeled around to identify the foul mouthed culprit. You were quicker.

“What did you just say?” you asked in a deathly quiet voice.

The conversations around you stopped as you faced Romilda Vane. The smug faced witch crossed her arms, her scarlet and gold scarf billowing in the wind as she looked up at the three of you.

“You heard me,” Romilda said in a haughty voice. “Her father was one of the Dark Lord’s staunchest supporters. As were the Malfoys and Notts. Not to mention Riddle. How he was allowed back at school is a mystery to me. They should all be in Azkaban.”

Your ears began to ring. The crowd parted as you descended the bleachers, bringing you face to face with Romilda. “I wasn’t aware that you’d recently earned a place in the Wizengamot. For all your prattling, you’d think you were the Chief Warlock.”

She cowered under your glare, but doubled down as she looked towards her friends. “I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking. As far as I’m concerned, the Slytherins should be punished for their crimes.”

“I hardly think you’re speaking from any moral high ground, Romilda. Didn’t you try to dose Potter with Amortentia in sixth year?”

Romilda reddened as she sputtered nonsense. The students around you snickered, but all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears. You clenched your fists so tightly that your nails dug painfully into your palms. If you hadn’t, you might’ve punched that stupid smirk right off of her face.

But you knew that physical violence was not the answer. There were far more strategic ways to land a blow and you were an expert in this type of warfare.

“I suppose Harry’s lucky that your potion making is about as incompetent as your critical thinking skills. Now move before I make you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing getting tangled up with all those snakes. They’ll sink their teeth into your back the second you turn it.”

“One of them is worth ten of you. At least the Slytherins fought to defend the castle instead of running off like a coward. They may have teeth, but at least they know how to use them. You’re all roar and no bite.”

“You’re a bitch, Y/N.”

You reared back, baring your teeth. “Oh you have no idea, Vane. But I’d be glad to demonstrate.”

Romilda held her ground. For a split second, you weighed the consequences of harming a fellow student versus the satisfaction of pummeling Romilda to the ground. Luckily for the idiotic Gryffindor, Luna gently gripped you by the elbow.

“It’s not worth it, Y/N.”

You looked at your friend who wore an expression of concern. Beside her, Pansy didn’t say a word. She was utterly silent, almost resigned like she encountered this treatment on a daily basis. We all pay the price, Theo had said.

Without another word, you nodded and bulldozed through Romilda as you exited the stands. It was only when the three of you reached the ground when you finally realized that you were shaking from anger.

“Are you alright, Pans?” Luna asked, clasping Parkinson’s hand.

Pansy shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Luna. If I let the opinion of an airheaded twat affect my day, I’d never have a good one again.”

“Are you sure—” Luna fretted.

Pansy smiled gently and squeezed her hand in assurance. “Truly, I’m alright. The only thing upsetting me at the moment is that I’ve left my scarf up there running from those hags. Would you mind getting it for me, Lu?”

Your friend still looked worried, but she nodded and made the trek back up. You and Pansy stood in silence, watching as the last of the crowd trickled out of the stands.

“Vane had no right to say that,” you said. It came out harsher than you expected.

“At least she had the gall to say it to my face,” Parkinson stated with a shrug. “I don’t know if that makes her brave or stupid.”

“Gryffindors often have trouble making the distinction.”

The dark haired witch laughed. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. As moronic as she is, Vane is right. She was only voicing the opinion of the masses."

“But you fought in the final battle. I saw you rallying the others against the Death Eaters. Romilda wasn’t even there. She didn’t even fight.”

Pansy sighed. “A lot of good that did. I had to watch my friends duel against their own parents and yet this entire school still mistrusts us. I suppose I can’t blame them. The majority of the Dark Lord’s followers were produced by our house.”

“Not all Slytherins are bad. The world isn’t so black and white,” you said adamantly. “Most of us operate in the gray areas, whether we admit it or not. The only difference is that you lot don’t try to hide it.”

“Yes, but a snake is a snake. Even when we shed our skin, they still see deception when they look at us.”

“And you’re willing to just accept that?”

Parkinson gave you a pointed look. What choice did she have? What choice did any of them have?

After a beat of silence, you cleared your throat. “Are you sure you’re alright? Luna’s worried.”

“I assure you, being villainized isn’t anything new to me. I suppose that’s why I named my horse after Circe," Pansy mused thoughtfully. "It’s better for them to believe that I’m some sort of evil sorceress than to realize that I am more shackled by my circumstances than I could ever be at Azkaban. My family name is a collar around my neck, waiting to choke me at any moment, but they’re so blinded by their own misconceptions that all they see are my teeth. I prefer it that way.”

“Oderint dum metuant.”

"Let them hate, as long as they fear." A faint smile bloomed on Pansy’s lips. "That’s awfully Slytherin of you to say. Are you sure you’re in the right house, Y/N?”

You chuckled. A beat of silence followed as understanding passed between you. Perhaps you had more in common with Pansy Parkinson than you thought.

When Luna returned, the two of them tried to convince you to join them at the common room party, but you declined. You weren’t really in the mood to be around people.

“You two go ahead. I’ll catch up later.”

As the sun set over the school grounds, you found yourself at the Black Lake. Dusk tinged the horizon with pink and purple and the fluffy white clouds hung low enough to kiss the dark water. You settled at the end of the dock and dipped your toes into the lake, watching as the motion made ripples across the surface. Maybe it was unwise to linger here given that the lake was home to the merpeople and the giant squid, but they would be far in the depths and you were honestly too knackered to care.

Sighing, you pulled out a silver flask from your robes. You had initially brought it for the after party, but it would’ve been a shame to let the firewhisky go to waste.

“Illegal contraband?” A familiar voice teased just as the wood gave way beside you. Theo bumped his shoulder against yours as he sat. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well maybe your idiotic tendencies are rubbing off on me.”

“I’d like to rub more than just my tendencies on you.”

You rolled your eyes and handed him the flask. “Just fucking drink, Theodore.”

He grinned before taking a swig. You chuckled at the face he made from the burn of the Ogden’s. “That is straight up liquor," Theo remarked through his coughing fit. "You're out of control, diavolina. Should I be concerned?”

“We’re celebrating,” you said. “At least you should be. That was quite a win out there. I didn’t expect you to be so….efficient.”

“Careful, Y/N. That was almost a compliment.”

You shrugged. “To be fair, I haven’t been to a game in years. You could’ve been absolutely rubbish and I’d still think it was a feat that you managed to stay seated on that broom.”

“Well, it is a pretty important component of quidditch. Did you at least attempt to enjoy yourself?”

“It was a brutal game. There’s a lot more strategy and planning that goes into quidditch than I initially thought. It’s like chess, but you’re allowed to hit people. I had a blast.”

Theo chuckled. “I should’ve known you’d get a kick out of all that violence.”

Warmth spread through your body as you took another swig. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating your win at the party?”

His fingers brushed yours as you handed the flask back to him. “I’m where I want to be.”

This time, you weren’t sure if it was the firewhisky or Theo’s presence making you flush. The two of you kept drinking in silence as you peered up at the sky. Back home in London, you never would’ve been able to see the stars this clearly. They glittered in the night sky like tiny diamonds etched through the darkness.

“I heard about what happened earlier,” Theo said after a moment.

You weren’t surprised. Word traveled fast around this school. “Luna told you?”

“No. Pansy did.” He shifted, turning over to look at you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you did too. “You did a good thing, Y/N. You stood up for Pansy. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I was only doing what anyone else would’ve done.”

“No. You weren’t.” Theo set the flask down. “No one else would’ve come to her defense. Pansy, she’s the strongest one out of all of us. Draco, Mattheo, and I, we can always resort to punches when we’re insulted, but Pansy doesn’t have that option. She just has to sit there and take it. It means a lot that someone spoke up for her.”

“I did the bare minimum.”

“It still meant a lot.”

“There’s no need to thank me for—”

Theo sighed in exasperation. “For Salazar’s sake, will you just take my gratitude without arguing?”

You bit back a smile. “Fine. I acknowledge your gratitude.”

You downed the rest of the flask as Theo lit a cigarette. The flame from that curious Zippo flickered in the darkness as smoke filled the air.

“So,” Theo started, taking a deep inhale. “Are you ready for the slug club dinner next week? I’m not even invited to the bloody thing and yet I still know every detail thanks to McLaggen’s incessant prattling. What a twat.”

“Cormac is kind of a twat, isn’t he?” you asked, giggling as the alcohol started taking its effect. “I heard that he kisses like a fork tongued lizard.”

Theo’s eyes flashed. “You better not know that firsthand.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I wouldn’t go near McLaggen’s mouth with a ten foot broom.”

“Good. I can rest easy that you won’t be replacing me with a reptilian snogger.”

“You can rest easy either way. I’m not going to that dinner.”

Theo paused, the cigarette hanging haphazardly from between his lips. “What do you mean you’re not going?”

“It’s a pretty straightforward sentence, Nott. I will not be attending Professor Slughorn’s ridiculous dinner.”

“You have to go,” he declared firmly.

“I’m confused. Do you want me to snog the lizard or not?”

Theo frowned. “Do not snog McLaggen unless you want me to turn him into an actual reptile.” He exhaled and smoke curled around his lips. “You can’t miss that dinner.”

“I have no interest in attending.”

He stared at you, his gaze fixed with determination. “Is this about what Slughorn said the other day?”

You picked at your fingers, avoiding his eyes. “It’s probably going to be boring, anyways. Just a pissing contest for us to compare our grades and achievements like we’re puppets on a string.”

“You should still go.”

“Why?” you asked, a bit irritated that Theo was pushing for this so hard. You would’ve thought that he of all people would understand your choice. “Why would I subject myself to be part of something that judges people based on prejudice rather than merit?”

Theo’s expression softened. “Because it’ll raise your chances of joining the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. That’s your dream, isn’t it?”

You reeled back in surprise. “How do you know about that?”

He rolled his eyes. “You only talk about it a thousand times a day.” Theo raised his brow in challenge. “Slughorn’s one of the most influential members. If you go to the dinner, it might solidify a formal invitation.”

Theo was right. You didn’t want him to be, but he was right. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve sabotaged and plotted and schemed for a way in. This was an opportunity to distinguish yourself from your fellow classmates, so why were you hesitating?

You knew why. You were looking right at him.

“I’ll drag you there myself if I have to,” Theo declared.

You sighed. There was no way he was going to let this go. “Fine, I’ll think about it.”

Theo smiled triumphantly. You kicked at the water, sending a wave across the still lake. “You know, if Slughorn knew that you were a Marchesi, he’d probably fall all over himself to recruit you. Hell, anyone would. You’re practically guaranteed a place at the Society, too.”

Theo shrugged nonchalantly. “Where would the fun be in that?”

“I’m serious, Nott. It could open up doors for you.”

He sighed. “That’s exactly why I’ve kept the knowledge to myself. I’m tired of everyone judging me based on my family, good or bad. I want to accomplish something that’s solely mine. Not Nott, not Marchesi. Just Theo.”

“That’s uncharacteristically noble of you.”

“I told you, I’m not just a pretty face. I’m also rich, witty, intelligent, athletic, etc. Honestly, the list goes on and on.”

You snorted. “Just don’t expect humble to be part of that little myriad, Theo.”

Theo paused. The moment of silence swelled between you like an errant wave. Then, a huge smile broke out on his face.

“What?” you asked.

“You called me Theo.”

“Well, that is your name. Has quidditch concussed you so severely that you’ve forgotten?

He responded with an eye roll. “I’m perfectly lucid, thank you very much. Well, besides the firewhisky. I’m a little bit sloshed from that, but not sloshed enough to not notice you call me by my actual name. Not Theodore, not Nott, not twat, not oh god—”

“I get it, Theo.”

His grin grew wider. “There it is again. Theo.”

“It’s just a name, nothing special.”

“It is when you’re the one saying it.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The satisfied smirk on his face refused to budge even as the sky grew darker. The two of you sprawled out on the dock, staring up at the sky and enjoying the comfortable silence. Theo toyed with his lighter, rubbing his thumb over the spark wheel, which caused the flame to flicker on and off.

You stared at the lighter, vision blurring from the alcohol. “Why do you have that thing?”

“I told you, Mattheo’s a little thief.”

“No, I mean I know the reason. But I just can’t figure out why.”

Theo scrunched his brows in confusion. “Are you sure you’re not the one concussed?”

“Would a concussed person be able to do this?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and slightly flipped to the side. The action made your hair come loose.

“What in Merlin’s name am I supposed to be looking at right now?”

“I’m obviously doing a cartwheel,” you deadpanned. “Aren’t I?”

Theo chuckled. “You are one drunk witch, Y/N.”

“M’not drunk.” He raised a brow. “Fine, maybe I’m a tiny bit bevved, but you’re the one avoiding my question.”

“Sorry,” Theo said rather unapologetically. “I’m a bit distracted at the moment.”

“By what?”

“Your hair,” he murmured softly. Theo reached out and toyed with a loose strand, twisting a long lock between his fingers. He swallowed thickly, his voice lower and huskier than it was a minute ago. “You should wear it down more often.”

“It’s a hassle.”

He swept it over your shoulder, knuckles brushing your cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

Your cheeks warmed. Whether from the alcohol or his touch, you couldn’t differentiate. “Stop deflecting, Nott.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Relentless witch. Can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment here?”

You gave him a pointed look. Theo sighed before handing over his lighter. Up close, you could see that the silver was worn and dented. It looked much older than you initially thought. To your surprise, Theo silently waved his wand and the lighter transformed into a heart shaped locket.

“When my nonna gave me the grimoire, it came with this. It was Alessandra’s old locket. She treasured it more than the grimoire itself.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“Open it.”

Your fingers stilled. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t get shy now, diavolina. You wanted to know and now I’m telling you.”

You hesitated for a moment before curiosity got the best of you. The locket popped open easily. Inside was a picture of a dark haired woman standing next to a man with watercolor eyes and thick brown curls. The couple looked at each other with love and adoration in their eyes.

“That’s Alessandra, obviously. The man was Damiano, her closest friend, the mad scientist of the village, and the cleverest muggle she’d ever met. He helped author the grimoire.”

“I never knew that Alessandra had help with her inventions.”

Theo nodded. “As my family intended. They didn’t approve of her relationship with Damiano, but she didn’t care. They fell madly in love and eventually married.”

“How is it possible that no one knew about him?”

“Damiano was born with a unique illness that was incurable even with magic. Alessandra poured years of her life into finding a cure, but in the end he succumbed to it. She passed away only a year after him. My nonna said that she died of a broken heart.” Theo took the chain and traced his fingers over the picture. “They left behind two young children who were eventually raised by Alessandra’s parents. Their son and daughter grew up not knowing who their father was. The Marchesis did everything in their power to keep the knowledge to themselves. They didn’t want anyone to know that their great bloodline was tainted by a muggle.”

Theo bowed his head in shame. He avoided your gaze, choosing to look out at the Black Lake instead. “There it is. The secret that my family has guarded for centuries. The sad part is that some of them still hold those bigoted beliefs, so when people assume the worst of me, I can’t blame them. The Marchesis, the Notts, either way you look at it, there’s bad blood coursing through my veins.”

“That’s not true, Theo,” you said softly. “You know I don’t think that of you, right?”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Everyone else does.”

“Well, I don’t,” you said firmly. “You said it earlier. Family isn’t all that a person amounts to. When I look at you, I don’t see a Nott or a Marchesi. I just see Theo.”

“I don’t deserve that,” he whispered. The saddest part was that you were sure he meant it. “My great great great grandmother fell in love with a muggle and how did my family repay her for it? They blotted him out of existence.”

The starlight caressed his forlorn expression with its silver glow, painting a heartbreaking depiction of Theo that you had never seen before. It reminded you of that day in the potions lab when he was talking about his mother. There was such an openness and vulnerability in him then that was present now as well and you realized why he looked at you the way he did that day.

Theo hadn’t been waiting for you to give him an out. He wanted—no, he needed a friend and you had been too scared to step up then, but you weren’t now. You could be that for him. You wanted to be that for him. A friend.

Without second guessing yourself, you reached out in the space between you and grabbed hold of his hand. Theo stared at your intertwined fingers in surprise.

“The love between Damiano and Alessandra lives on,” you said with a small smile. “In their children and their children’s children. In…you.”

Those watercolor eyes, the very same ones that you had grown so familiar with shone with emotion. Unlike the day in the lab, Theo didn’t put up his mask of cockiness and arrogance and you realized with a start that you didn’t want him to.

He smiled and squeezed your hand gently. “Yes, I suppose I inherited Damiano’s affinity for cruel, brilliant witches.”

"Affinity is putting it lightly," you said teasingly. "Admit it. You're obsessed with me, Nott."

You blinked as Theo hovered over you. The weight of his body pressed against yours ignited a flame of fiendfyre in your core. He dipped his head down, his curls tickling your nose. "No, not Nott. Not Theodore. Try that again, diavolina."

You wriggled underneath him, but Theo held your hips in place. He brushed his lips against yours and smirked when you tried to kiss him. His low rumble of laughter sent shivers down your spine. "Say it. Say my name again."

"If I say it, will you stop being a tease?"

Theo kissed your neck and laughed when you pouted in response. "Only one way to find out."

"I'll knee you in the crotch if you do that again, Theo."

He grinned. "There's a good girl," Theo said rather suggestively. You fought the urge to squirm at his words. He peppered kisses along your neck, your jaw, and your cheeks while you burst into a fit of drunken giggles. "For the record, I am obsessed with you, but I think you're a little bit obsessed with me too."

"You wish, Theo."

"You're going to be the death of me," he said huskily as he unbuttoned your cardigan. Theo's eyes were full of mischief as he dipped between your breasts, sucking on your flesh and leaving marks in his wake. "But I'm willing to die a happy man, Y/N."

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#i am writing this from the grave because the new pics of lorenzo at the movie premiere has k*lled me #theo nott #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine

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wen-kexing-apologist · 10 months ago

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Symptoms of a System Error: The Manifestation of Myungha's Depression in Love for Love's Sake

Ok I will almost certainly have more thoughts about this when I go back to rewatch Love for Love’s Sake in the next couple weeks, but I’ve been thinking about the finale for the last couple of hours and I want to get some stuff out of my head. Before I get too far in to this, I want to say that I think most of the ambiguity in the show is brilliantly executed in a way that allows people to take whatever meaning they want to from it without contradicting each other, without stepping on toes, and without having to twist or bend the narrative beyond all recognition to make it make sense.

So I want to talk about the use of depression in this show, because the way Myungha exists in the world is recognizable enough to me that these moments of choice, and the system errors were extremely legible. That doesn’t mean my take is the correct one (and I honestly don’t think there is one right answer here anyway) but it’s what I got out of it, so with the needless ramble complete, let’s get to it.

Prologue

gif by @dramascene

I connected rather quickly to Myungha as a character from right near the beginning of episode 1 because of how passionate he was about the character of Yeowoon and how much he hoped for a happy ending for that character. As someone who processes a lot of my feelings, and who understands myself better through media consumption, I was quick to appreciate the fact that Myungha recognizes the parts of himself that speak to Yeowoon and to know that because Yeowoon is fictional, he has a chance not to suffer with merely a stroke of a pen. The Author could have chosen from the beginning to give Yeowoon a happy ending, and did not because he believes that there are people for whom bad things will never stop happening. But from the perspective of a fictional story, the Author should consider who he is writing the story for. Myungha connects to Yeowoon, and it sends one hell of a tragic message for how Myungha’s life will end up if even in fiction the people who suffer have no hope of happiness.

Myungha tells the Author that someone like Cha Yeowoon, someone like him [Myungha] with awful lives can still be happy. Looking back on that statement with the knowledge that Myungha kills himself, sends a very clear message, at least for me, of the hope that he was clinging to and finally lost his grip on. The Author asks if Myungha can change the outcome, and thus begins our story.

Debuffs

Now, I don’t know that I will have much more to say here than what @jemmo said in their very brilliant post, beyond the fact I agree with their interpretation of the debuffs. But I am thinking about the debuffs as it relates to mental health and to Myungha’s independence. One of Myungha’s first missions is to befriend Cha Yeowoon, and we see the difficulties associated with doing so when it comes to the Fondness Level meter and the debuffs that happen as a result. I love what Jess said about the dichotomy there: the debuffs mean that every time Myungha gets close to Yeowoon, something bad happens, Myungha uses that as a reason to stay away from Yeowoon to protect him when in fact, being around Myungha and increasing his fondness for him is the only way to really keep Yeowoon safe.

gif by @dramascene

And here again there is something recognizable to me in this dichotomy. Myungha likes Yeowoon, Myungha wants to be friends with Yeowoon, every time something bad might happen to Yeowoon, Myungha is there to intervene. But Myungha is convinced that the potentially negative events that might occur during a debuff are because of him, and so he avoids Yeowoon as much as he possibly can. To me this makes the debuffs a stand in for depression symptoms. Myungha has convinced himself that he is the cause of the bad moments in Yeowoon’s day. Myungha has convinced himself that Yeowoon would be better off if they weren’t friends, because he only makes things worse. And that is not something he can easily shake off, it’s not something he can logic his way out of, that’s the game, that’s just how it is. And so he withdraws until Yeowoon comes to him.

And honestly thinking about it, nothing bad really happens during those debuffs. The light doesn’t shatter, the boys back off on the bus, Yeowoon doesn’t punch Sangwon. Maybe the reason why nothing at all happens is because Myungha intervenes. Maybe if Myungha hadn’t been there, the light would have broken, maybe if Myungha hadn’t been there Yeowoon would have punched Sangwon. But that is not a lens that Myungha is capable of viewing himself through, that is never an option that crosses Myungha’s mind because he is too focused on feeling like the cause of Yeowoon’s problems.

System Errors

I know there is a lot of confusion or at least uncertainty around the system errors. Why are they happening? Where are they coming from? For me, I think the answer is Myungha himself. The first time we get a system error, it’s in Episode 6, what I think is the day after Yeowoon and Myungha have their first kiss and very soon after Yeowoon and Myungha kiss on the rooftop at school. The first error isn’t subtle, but it’s not explicitly stated. Myungha walks in to a room to take a phone call and walks in to the middle of band practice, falling through the world as he tries to remove himself from the situation until he (literally) runs in to Yeowoon. Myungha goes home that night and gets his first moments in the black abyss, and the first explicit mention via pop-up of a system error. I have not gone through (yet) to track every instance of what happens before a system error pop-up occurs from that point on, but I will say moment that was most legible for me in terms of indicating that these system errors were stemming from Myungha himself were when he gets the notification both times that Yeowoon looks directly at him and tells Myungha “I love you.”

gif by @dragonsareawesome123

That moment was a guy punch for me because I was not able to see it any other way except that Myungha is so incapable of believing that people could actually love him that someone telling him directly and sincerely that they love him cannot exist in his world. He literally cannot compute it, and thus an error occurs. Again from the perspective of depression, or trauma, or what have you, this is familiar to me. It is perhaps the most reflective part of Myungha to my own psyche. Neither of us know how to be loved.

Myungha is called out on this repeatedly, he is nice to everyone, he does so much for everyone and refuses to ask for help himself. I’m the same way, I will bend over backwards as much as I can to help the people that I care about, but it is a rare occasion where I can ask for help myself. I’m not sure if this is the case for Myungha, but for me at least a lot of that stems from needing to make myself useful to people in some way so they keep me around. And so I end up feeling like a commodity to the people that I care about and help, and merely tolerated by anyone else that I do not help but that interacts with me any way. Myungha is called out consistently by multiple people, real or NPC about this similar habit. Myungha does not want to be a burden, Myungha only cares about other people’s happiness, Myungha is not happy himself and has maybe never been happy and so he pours everything he can in to lightening the load for others.

He loves Yeowoon, but to be loved by Yeowoon is different. To experience any moments of joy cannot possibly be real. Maybe I am projecting too much on to the character, but it makes complete and total sense to me that Myungha’s worldview would break down upon having someone state wholeheartedly that they want to be a support system for him.

Cruel Choices

gif by @dramascene

With the enmeshment of depression and video game mechanics in mind, I want to talk about the scene at the end of Episode 6. I love this scene so much for a number of reasons:

It turns the game on a head for me as we slip further and further in to a nightmare scenario

It raises the stakes and attempts to get Myungha to make a hard choice

It forces Myungha to think about what is important to him

It’s ultimate purpose and who is posting the mission is ambiguous/uncertain

I’m going to focus on number four. I think it is a perfectly valid read to see this and all video game mechanics as designed by The Author in an effort to help Myungha change Yeowoon’s story in which case this mission feels particularly vindictive and cruel. @lurkingshan posed the question in a conversation we were having about Love for Love’s Sake, where she wondered why the game could not hold two sources of love for Myungha at once. I love that question because it made me realize how differently this show can be read and how important who you choose to read as the entity in control of this game is for what this scene specifically means and I love so many interpretations of it, I love the interpretation that is was simply cruel, I love the interpretation that in retrospect this was the Author being angry at Myungha for dying, I love the reflection from @jemmo that said this felt like a choice between staying rooted in the past (sparing grandma) or choosing a future (sparing Yeowoon)

For me, I think I am leaning heavily in to the pop ups are under Myungha’s subconscious control, his mind, the missions he thinks are important, the problems he thinks he is causing are what is driving the base game. Because of this my base instinct is to lean in to the depression/anxiety/trauma tent where things have been going a little too well for him lately and he has convinced himself that he is due for something bad to happen. I am happy to once again acknowledge that this probably projection, but I know that my own mental illness(es) does not let my peace linger for long. Myungha is spending so much time with Yeowoon, Yeowoon who grounds him when his world is literally falling apart. Yeowoon who cannot contain his smile whenever he is around Myungha, Yeowoon who is downright desperate to bestow love and support upon Myungha, Yeowoon who has accompanied Myungha to the hospital late at night to be there for his boyfriend in a stressful time, and Myungha can’t have that. He loves his grandmother, he loves Yeowoon, they both love him and so obviously means that something bad is going to happen to them.

gif by @25shadesoffebruary

[As an aside I am thinking about what the Author said in the final episode about wanting Myungha to be able to see himself from the outside, and how I took that to mean Yeowoon is supposed to be a reflection of Myungha and a journey to self love, and how Yeowoon told Myungha that something bad always happens to the people around him in relation to this hospital scene]

Secondarily, I do think being confronted with this choice at all allows Myungha to have a moment of reflection, and is clarifying for him to know that both Yeowoon and his grandmother are important people in his life that he doesn’t want to lose. That’s fucking huge, in my opinion at least. And for all this mission was cruel, it was the first time Myungha refused to complete the mission. He was asked to save one, he decided to save both, and the game could have been cruel and taken his grandmother and Yeowoon away for refusing to choose, but it didn’t. They both got to live, and sure Myungha’s mission to make Yeowoon happy was shortened significantly, but I do think fifteen days was enough time to be successful in his mission if the depression and the grief had not gotten to Myungha instead.

Grief

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Something about grief that my therapist told me once was grieving people love helping others. And I think that is the case of Myungha here just based on the way he throws himself in to helping as many people as he can, especially Yeowoon. He knows Yeowoon is grieving, he knows Yeowoon is struggling, and he can distract himself from his own shit by helping Yeowoon instead. But once Myungha is confronted with the possibility that either one of the people that he loves could die, the penality for failing in his mission to make Yeowoon happy looms over his head like a knife. Just like Myungha considered himself the problem with the debuff, he knows how high of a likelihood it is that Yeowoon would regress, would isolate, would sink into a massive low.

And it would be Myung’s fault (in his mind).

Especially because Yeowoon keeps saying that even thinking about going on dates with Myungha is making him happy but Myungha’s mission isn’t complete. Myungha has started to get low, he is not as engaged in his relationship with Yeowoon, he’s convinced himself he is going to fail, and is thus setting himself up for failure because he decides 15 days is not enough time to find happiness, but it is enough time to break somebody’s heart in preparation for a devastating loss. And maybe, maybe Myungha would have snapped out of it with enough time to spare initially, but any hope of that being the case was shattered the second Yeowoon admitted that he wasn’t happy because Myungha wasn’t relying on him.

Myungha is so used to be self-reliant there is no way for him to break out of that habit in just two weeks. Myungha knew his death would hurt Yeowoon, but the final nail in the coffin for him was learning that his life was hurting Yeowoon too. And he almost got there, he almost did it, he admitted that he didn’t know how to, but he withdrew at the last second. He has spent all this time, all this energy, all this focus in to changing Yeowoon, he does not have the space to do that for himself.

The Choice

gif by @supanuts

The last moment I will really speak to as it relates to my interpretation of this game being controlled by Myungha as a manifestation of his depression is the author’s pen. Considering the fact The Author asked Myungha if he wanted to try again, I do not think if the Author was controlling this game world that he would have had Myungha disappear from it. Because according to the Gaga subs, the change that Myungha writes is that he wants Yeowoon to be happy, and immediately upon finishing that request, Myungha starts to fade.

If we hold these game mechanics as manifestations of Myungha’s depression, which I do, it makes complete and total sense to me that Myungha would fall back in to the pattern of believing that Yeowoon would be happier if Myungha wasn’t there. Yeowoon has a modeling deal now, he has some modicum of fame, he has friends now, he has supports in place that he did not have before, so what need does Yeowoon have of him, when his inability to let people love him is what is now causing Yeowoon to feel sad.

And I think that massive server error at the end where the world is burning and the universe is melting in to the game is a result of Myungha realizing too little, too late that this isn’t what he wanted. But it can’t be undone. The line he says when he is sinking in to the water about how at the last minute before he died, he regretted it. The game, the drowning here are one in the same to me.

And for me there was just something so beautiful and hopeful from Myungha telling The Author that he wants to try again. We started the show with Myungha telling The Author miserable people can be happy, and we end the show with Myungha and Yeowoon finally getting the happy ending they never thought they would have.

gif by @junghaesin

God I loved this show.

#love for love's sake #lfls #love for love's sake meta #love for love's sake analysis #one thing about this show is that it almost certainly will lend itself well to a rewatch!#and I *love* rewatching shows #wka long post

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in1-nutshell · 8 months ago

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Hi, again! I want to try mixing Generations this time. This one have a human Buddy that is very tired and VERY done, but selfless human that keeps reincarnated to different Transformers universes everytime they passed away. They have no idea why this is happening - no idea what's causing this. Human Buddy is knowledgeable and very experienced of the Cybertronian wars. They are skilled at healing humans and Cybertronians. I have no doubt that there will be alot of confusion on how Buddy knew how Cybertronians work and why Buddy is never suprised about the Cybertronians existence. Everytime Buddy sees their Cybertronian friends counterparts for the first time, they looked at them blankly and say, "I'm getting too old for this.", despite they don't look old, Buddy can feel aging mentally. Characters - Bumblebee Movie: Bumblebee, Rise of the Beasts: Optimus Prime, Shattered Glass: Soundwave, Earthspark: Megatron, and IDW: Prowl. Please and thank you. Have a nice Day/Night.

Buddy is so tired of getting flung all over the place and occasionally gets scared by their friends new frames or universes rules.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy gets reincarnated in different universe with Bumblebee from The Bumblebee Movie, RotB Optimus Prime, SG! Soundwave, TFE Megatron and IDW Prowl

SFW, Platonic, tiny bit of angst, Human reader

BB Movie/ RotB/ SG!/ TFE/ IDW

The Bumblebee Movie: Bumblebee

Bumblebee and Charlie were startled at the sudden 15-year-old at the opening of the garage door.

The kid looked at Bee then at Charlie before entering and closing the door.

Before Charlie could say anything, they introduced themselves as Buddy.

This introduction was one of the rockier ones that Buddy had to endure.

“Listen! I know this is going to sound weird, but Bee here—”--Buddy

“Bee?”--Charlie

“Well, his full name is Bumblebee—”--Buddy

“I named him that!”--Charlie

“Shush!”--Buddy

“Don’t shush me, you’re like 15!”--Charlie

Buddy slapping their hand on their face.

“This is going to take a while…”--Buddy

It took a bit to explain about their reincarnation to the two of them.

Charlie was a bit skeptical, but the number of details they were putting and the genuine concern they had for her and Bee seemed to put out the fears.

Bumblebee on the other hand, completely trusted this new human and what they said.

Sure, he was still trying to piece things from his past, but everything else seemed to check out.

He does try and ask Buddy the best he can about the other universe they had been a part of.

Buddy is sitting in Bee while Charlie takes a nap in her room.

Buddy gently pats Bee’s wheel hearing some sad whirls.

“You know… I knew a version of you who also didn’t have his voice box.”--Buddy

The whirls stop.

“He lost it to Megatron back on Tiger Pax. But he was one of the best scouts I ever met, and I’ve been around.”--Buddy

Buddy gently puts their head on Bees wheel.

“You’re doing a great job Bee.”--Buddy

Bee whirls happily making Buddy chuckle a bit.

Rise of the Beast: Optimus Prime

Buddy, now an 80-year-old, stood in front of the small group of Autobots, humans, and Maximal with their hands on their hips.

They honestly got worried for a second that they weren’t going to see any of their friends at this age they spawned in.

But just as they were taking a stroll by the docks and nearly got smashed by a flying tire, they found their family again.

“Hi!”--Buddy

Everyone freezes.

“I would have thought you took your whole ‘robots in disguise’ thing a bit more seriously Prime.”--Buddy

“… Who’s that?”--Mirage

Buddy adjusts their glasses a bit.

“…Mirage? Oh, it is you and—SWEET PRIMUS WHAT HAPPENED!?”--Buddy

Buddy hurriedly moves to Bumblebee’s fallen body.

Optimus tries to move in between them and Bee.

“Move it Prime! Let me look!”--Buddy

“How do you know my name?”--Optimus

“I’ll tell you if you let me look at your scout!”--Buddy

Optimus moves a side and lets Buddy take a closer inspection.

Mirage bends over to Noah and Elena.

“Are you guy’s psychic too?”--Mirage

“No!”--Noah

“No, I’ve just been tossed from dimension to dimension all the time and have picked up on a few things.”--Buddy

Mirage is about to say something else when Buddy throws a wrench at his helm without even looking.

“Learned that from Ratchet.”--Buddy

It was a bit harder to talk with this Prime than others they had the pleasure of meeting.

Mainly it was because of his wariness against humans, which Buddy completely understood and didn’t push Prime on the subject too much.

Optimus did ask from time to time about his other alternatives and how they fared in the war.

Buddy tried their best to tell him about the other Prime’s, but they did get upset when they saw him try and mimic some of their styles.

“Prime, we need to have a talk.”--Buddy

“About what exactly.”--Optimus

Buddy gesturing at him.

“You. This. All of this. You’re not acting like yourself.”--Buddy

“I am—”--Optimus

“I mean your authentic self. Listen, I know this is absolutely terrifying. I’ve been through this war almost, if not longer than you have. I lost count a long time ago.”--Buddy

“What—”--Optimus

“Shush!... Optimus, you shouldn’t have to change yourself to fit into a mold of another. You’re the best you in this universe and nothing is going to change that. You have a team, a growing family, that loves you for who you are. Don’t change that. Now, yes improvements are necessary here and there but that’s a part of growing up. So, stop trying to act like some one else and lets find out how to stop Unicron.”--Buddy

Optimus smiles at them tiredly.

“Thank you, Buddy,…”--Optimus

“Anyways you have a mellowed version of Primal on your side, if that’s not an added bonus I don’t know what is.”--Buddy

“A mellowed version?”--Optimus

Shattered Glass: Soundwave

Soundwave was moving some crates to the main room when something warm attached itself onto his pede.

He looked down to see a human hugging his pede.

“Umm… hi? How did you get in here?”--Soundwave

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard your voice Soundwave.”--Buddy

Soundwave looked at his cassettes who were just watching the interaction.

“…Who brought the elderly human to the base?”--Soundwave

“Hey, I’m just 60! I’ve been 104 one time.”--Buddy

“Excuse me you’ve been what.”--Soundwave

Once Buddy was through with the explanation again Soundwave was ecstatic.

He had heard of reincarnation before, but to see someone actually remember their previous lives was exciting!

He wants to know everything about his other alternatives and the outcomes of the wars. Maybe they could help them beat the Autobots once and for all and peace can finally be restored.

“So, you’ve met different versions of us?”--Soundwave

“Like I’ve said before, yes.”--Buddy

“So do you have a favorite?”--Soundwave

“Not really.”--Buddy

“Why?”--Soundwave

“… You have to let go of that thought if you want to stay sane for the next universe that needs you. It’s nice to remember but you can’t keep your head in the past.”--Buddy

“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that…”--Soundwave

“Its not all bad… it’s a pain to reintroduce yourself for the millionth time and earn trust and all. But if it means getting to have moments with my friends, from the ones who keep on dying to the ones who seem immortal, I’ll take it.”--Buddy

“I hope I’m your friend in the next universe you go to.”--Soundwave

Buddy looks at him sadly.

“I hope so too.”--Buddy

Earthspark: Megatron

None of the Autobots or Maltos were prepared to see the random 10-year-old stare at them wide eyed and drop their juice box as they ran over to Optimus and Megatron hugging their pedes.

“Finally! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good Megatron!”--Buddy

“What?”--Megatron

“Who let a 10 year old in the base!”--Dot

Buddy taking notice of the new badge on Prime and Megatron before face palming.

“Primus… This is another shadow government things again…”--Buddy

This universe by far took the record for bots believing their story of reincarnation.

Buddy looks like they are going to pass out when they hear more about the Terrans as they are furiously scribbling things in their book.

Megatron does feel a bit weird that Buddy hangs out with him so much than the children or other Autobots.

He tries his best to refrain from asking about his alternatives…

But he does let one question slip out…

“You have met other versions of me who stayed with the Decepticons? How did—”--Megatron

“Terrible. Most Megatron’s I knew that went against Prime didn’t exactly end up with a happy ending. Not even in the universe were things were the opposite.”--Buddy

The what universe?”--Megatron

“Doesn’t matter now. I say you should focus more on what here with you now than the ‘what if’s’ and questions your alternatives did.”--Buddy

“Ohh…”--Megatron

“You have a lovely family and great friendship with Dot, Megs. The last god Megatron I knew didn’t have what you had, but the family he formed helped him have some sort of closure and redemption others tried to deny him.”--Buddy

Megatron gently pats Buddy’s head.

“You are wiser beyond your years Buddy.”--Megatron

“You get wiser when you’ve been doing this for years.”--Buddy

“…How long—”--Megatron

“Hey, look at that cow! Imma go touch it.”--Buddy

IDW: Prowl

Prowl had just got back to his habsuite with his new data pads when he saw a human child on his berth.

The child looked at him wide eyed with some tears prickly around.

Prowl scooping up the child.

“Who are you and what are you—”--Prowl

The child grabs his digits and hugs them as tightly as they could.

“You’re here… you’re here…”--Buddy

Prowl looked at them gently patting their back as they started crying.

“It’s been so long since I last saw you I was beginning to think that… Oh Prowl…”--Buddy

After Buddy was finally able to calm down, they explained their situation to Prowl.

Something that he refused to believe.

It wasn’t until Buddy pulled out the book with their notes that he realized they might be right.

Prowl is wary around Buddy, still plagued with the reminder of Spike Witkicky in his processor and keeps Buddy at arm’s length.

He is set on not getting attached to Buddy.

Too bad for him, Buddy has spent years knowing how to befriend Prowl’s for years and while they are a bit rusty, they know that it’s only a matter of time before they worm their way into his spark.

“Spike sucks.”--Buddy

Prowl freezes for a second.

“What are you talking about?”--Prowl

“Most Spike Witwicky’s, and most Witikcky’s, I’ve met in general are just the worse. There was this one universe where he brought SOUNDWAVE into the Ark after just getting attacked by him earlier that day!”--Buddy

Prowl snorts a bit while looking in disbelief.

“Are you serious?”--Prowl

Buddy looks at him in the optic.

“Like a heart attack.”--Buddy

“…are there more stories like that? Or about my alternatives reaction to that?”--Prowl

Buddy gives him a toothy smile.

“I swear when that Prowl found out he looked like he wanted to bang his helm on the table then flip it into oblivion.”--Buddy

#transformers x reader #maccadam #human buddy #bumblebee movie #rise of the beasts #transformers shattered glass x platonic reader #tfe x reader #idw mtmte #idw tf

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londonfoginacup · 29 days ago

Text

Personal stream of consciousness around Liam and grief and moving forward

Every day I wake up and Liam is still dead. It continues to sort of feel like at some point I will wake up and that won’t be true, that he’ll be back, like he’s just on a trip right now. And I think that’s… a normal part of the grieving process, but it’s hard because it feels disrespectful, almost.

I only did 8 days of inktober this year. I had another ten sketched out already in my notebook, and now I wonder what to do with those. Some of them were good! (Some weren’t). I was older than Liam by a month or so, but for some reason I want to be able to go to him now, and show him those sketches, and say, I do art too! Aren’t you proud of me?

Death is a horrible and unnatural thing. It was never supposed to happen to us. We grieve because we were not made to lose people. We were made to love them forever. Grief is our body trying desperately to reconcile with a reality it was never made for. That is why it feels this way. We were not made for a life like this. We were made to hold one another in our arms. We were made to love each other. We were made for more.

I want to tell him that. That he was made for more than he got. I hope someday I can.

When tumblr started having polls, I always voted the Liam option, and in part that was because I love Liam and I would’ve chosen him regardless. But in part it was with the thought that, if he were to ever snoop on our community here, I wanted Liam to see that he had people in his corner. I don’t regret that. I’m sad it’s all I could do.

I was thinking about it earlier. About One Direction. I tried to slice it so many ways and I came to the conclusion that Liam and Louis are the ones that I think were the heart. I think 1D could’ve come back together to tour, make music, and so on, as long as it had at least those two. 1D could never exist without Liam. It just couldn’t. He loved them too much.

Obviously, I haven’t turned my queue back on. I haven’t felt right reblogging current day stuff about the boys. It feels like turning that back on will indicate being ready to move on, to some extent. And okay, I’ll never be ready so there’s that. But. The idea of turning it back on doesn’t feel right. Not yet.

That being said, I started last month preparing for Christmas. For the 25 days of fic rec I do, and the advent fic. And of course cards. I had decided just a week before Everything Happened that I couldn’t afford to do physical cards this year. And I feel ten times more guilty about that decision now, because it feels like surely people NEED that! But I am also trying to be realistic with myself; so many wonderful people have offered to help financially, and any other time I think I would’ve taken them up on that, but right now the emotional and mental weight of doing physical cards might also be too heavy.

Which, again, makes me feel like I’m letting people down when they need me. If I could, I would send all of you personalized letters every day. It is so hard to reckon with the knowledge that I am only human and must take care of myself.

But I will do the fic recs. that’s easy; I’ve already finished the post graphics.

And I will do the advent fic (I might change my plot— the original one didn’t have a lot of Liam, but i think I need him there more).

And I will make some sort of digital cards for sure. It occurred to me this year that I never put my paper dolls online anywhere and I sort of wonder why not. At least maybe this will be a treat for anyone too wary of sending a stranger online their address— all of you can print th paper dolls for yourselves. I’ll make plenty of outfits.

So. That’s my plan, I suppose. I’ve cried writing this more than I’ve cried all week, I think because it’s easy to think that I am past the worst of the grieving right up until I have to look head on at the facts again.

I miss him. I miss him. How could this happen.

#liam #ugggghhhhhhhh I am crying again and my EARS ARE RED #bleeeeeghhghghgg #how to make it sound like you’re not crying at your desk when you work in an open plan office??? I dunno I sure do NOT KNOW #😩😩😩😩😩😩

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specialagentlokitty · 2 months ago

Text

Master chief x reader - slow starts

If you still write for Master Chief could I request Master Chief x reader soulmate AU where they have timers on their wrists ticking down to when they'll meet their soulmate? If you don't write for Master Chief anymore that is absolutely fine. Have a good day😊💛 - Anon💜

Your timer seemed flawed, broken. Compared to everybody else’s timer, yours seems to jump ahead, go backward, sometimes the time would just vanish.

You weren’t sure why this was happening, nobody even after you saw specialist after specialist about it, not even they could give you an answer.

So you learnt to just start ignoring it, you never believed your timer now.

So when you were introduced to John after a mission you had recently completed with him, and your timer buzzed on your wrist, you didn’t think twice.

“Sorry, it’s nice to meet you but I’ve got to go I’m late.” You say, rushing past him.

John watched your leave, he didn’t show any emotion on his face, but he felt his timer go off.

He had wondered if his was fake, simply placed there to make Spartans feel a little more normal.

But there it was, set to zero just after meeting you, and he had heard yours go off but you didn’t even look.

Did you not believe in soulmates?

Did you not want a Spartan as a soulmate?

A lot of thoughts rushed around his head despite him trying to ignore them.

He tried to approach you to talk about your soulmate timers, but he could barely get close to you, there was always an excuse for you to to leave.

As a couple of weeks go past, he feels almost defeated.

John had been through hell and back and never gave up, but not being able to get a conversation out of you almost made him give up.

He watch you walk through the hallways towards the med bay, and immediately took that as his chance.

Getting up John quickly rushed to follow you, quietly slipping into the med bay after you, and he closed the door.

He walked over to you and stood quietly a few feet behind you, towering over you.

“You can’t keep avoiding this.” He said.

He didn’t sound annoyed as such, if anything he sounded a bit more confused than anything else.

“Master chief.” You greeted.

Turning around you sat on one of the med bay beds and he took a few unsure steps closer towards you.

“I don’t understand why you’ve been avoiding me. Do you not want to be my soulmate?”

You sigh slightly, running a hand down your face as you look at him.

“It’s not the simple, my timer isn’t accurate, it’s broken. Sometimes it jumps back and forth between times, sometimes it doesn’t change time or resets. You know just because you have a timer doesn’t mean your soulmate will have a matching one?”

John studied you quietly for a moment and pointed to your wrist.

“Your timer is still set to zero.”

“It’s not trust worthy.”

“You know it’s linked to mine.”

You both just stared at one another for a few minutes.

John wasn’t sure why he was trying to hard to get you to believe in your timer, to believe you were his soulmate.

His whole life he’d gone without needing any sort of relationship with people.

Maybe it came from the knowledge he had a soulmate, or from seeing other people and how happy and normal they were with their soulmates.

“Do you not want to be my soulmate?”

You sigh heavily.

“It’s not that, it’s just I can’t trust my timer.”

John frowned a little bit, taking your wrist he held it out and put his timer next to your, silently comparing something.

Each timer has a small set of numbers in the top right corner, your soulmate would have the same numbers, in the event that people questioned the soulmate timer or something went wrong with them.

John read the numbers and you did the same thing.

They matched.

“You’re my soulmate.” He stated.

He lowered your wrist back to your side.

“I can’t pretend I know anything about this stuff, because I don’t. I also can’t pretend to be the most caring soulmate, I wasn’t trained for this. But I would like to try.”

This made you look up at him in slightly shock.

“You want to try?”

He nodded his head.

“I’ve heard people say dinner is a good start?” He asks a little unsure.

“I uh… yeah…”

“I can’t cook.”

This made you laugh a little, especially at how bluntly he said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I can cook.”

John looked at you, bending his knees slightly so he could bring himself to your height.

“Can we have dinner?”

The slight lost look in his eye mixed with hopefulness made you sigh, and you nodded.

“Yeah, okay. We can have dinner and get to know each other better.”

John nodded and stood back up satisfied, hesitating he gently placed his hand on top of your head before walking away

#halo the series #halo imagine #halo #halo x reader #halo x you #john 117 #John 117 x reader #John 117 x you #John 117 imagine #master chief #master chief x reader #master chief x you #master chief imagine

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erospandemos · 1 year ago

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I just can't help it

Yandere Chaewon x Reader

Part 1

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

― Ernest Hemingway, Men Without Women

What you’re about to read is a confession to you. An apology, if you prefer to call it that, as I’ve professed my love to you plenty of times—although it won’t ever be enough—and you’re at the knowledge of every crime I’ve committed since we met.

My Korean teacher repeatedly reiterated the lack of clarity in my essays and oral exams. I’m not good with words, you see. That’s why I thought that letting you know about the events in my life that shaped me and the feelings that followed me throughout these months would make you understand me better.

I know our conversations weren’t as deep as you probably expected. I’ve tried to explain myself to the best of my abilities and even if it was a mess you seemed to make out that flurry of words and comfort me. Sometimes, I truly thought you understood me more than I did.

It’s true that we always talked in riddles and puzzles but it made more sense that way. Because our—my—love was pure madness and somehow the riddles explained it better than we ever could.

The lack of sleep shouldn’t have affected my mind too much, at least in the part that’s in charge of writing.

If you’re reading this, I hope you understand. Sorry if I’m rambling a lot, and sorry if I will ramble more in the following pages. Right, sorry if I’m apologizing a lot—you told me not to do that. I just can’t help it.

I was tortured since the age of 6 when I started going to elementary school, that’s as far as I can remember. You could also say I was “bullied”, it’s what the adults like to call it, but it’s the same thing. People get defensive, almost offended when I use the other term. “Wow,” was a common reaction, “that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” I didn’t think it was extreme.

When I so naively asked my teacher the difference between the two words, she chuckled and looked at me as if I asked her what the difference between hot and cold was. Surprise was another clear feeling I could read from her expression. She asked me how I knew those words. I simply said I heard them from outside and she told me to forget them.

That evening, when I came home, I took the chair from my mother’s desk and put it next to the bookshelf, I climbed it and looked at the books on the top shelf. They were the books she used the least and between them, sitting all dusty and forgotten, was also the dictionary.

I blew and rubbed the dust away then I looked for the two words. I read the two definitions closely and more than one time but I still didn’t understand. They were the same.

I didn’t ask my teacher anything else. My teacher was clearly against explaining them to me.

But I was sure, I knew those two words extremely well because I felt them on my skin.

I wanted to be an idol. I told everyone in my class because I thought it was a normal dream—we all watched idols on TV in the afternoon—and being an astronaut seemed a lot harder. Apparently, it wasn’t. Because I wanted to perform on a stage, I was “pretentious”, “narcissistic”, an “attention-seeker”, and a “whore”. I didn’t know what they meant and thought they were compliments and they etched those words into my skin.

I later found their definitions in the dictionary and understood what they were saying.

I wasn’t the only girl who wanted to be an idol. Hayoon, a classmate of mine, dreamt of testing for JYP, SM, YG, and all those big companies. She took dance and singing classes, they were both in group and private. She could afford it because her family was very rich. From what I heard in the classroom, she started training when she was just a little girl because her parents saw her dancing in front of the TV during an episode of Inkigayo.

Surprisingly, Hayoon was never shamed. Because she was “humble” and had “her feet on the ground”. She was loved by everyone and was the most favored prospect for the role of an idol, everyone seemed to believe in her dream. She was confident, danced well, and was beautiful. All the girls went to her house at least twice a month to go to her huge pool, splendid garden, and majestic house. I never went, I was never invited.

She was good at everything and topped all subjects. However, I sang better than her. In music classes and festivals, I was always chosen and often took the roles instead of her. When she realized she wasn’t the best, she became embarrassed and frustrated.

She didn’t have any way of making me sing worse and neither could sing better than me, even after all those expensive lessons, so she took to poking fun at me to try and drag me down. Of course her friends joined as well. They were always calling me "ugly", "weird", and "gross" in a way that didn’t seem childish or playful, but demeaning and insulting.

The other kids constantly berated me between classes, glued my books to the desk, slapped me and then ran away. They knew all the spots where there was no CCTV in the school. They even stole my brand-new headphones and glued my shoestrings to my shoes when I didn’t see them. We wore slippers and my shoes were in my locker.

My teachers never helped me. I’ve tried telling them and they didn’t believe me, or rather, they chose not to believe me because that was easier for them.

Only a girl had the courage to help me, it only took one word and two days to have everyone against her. “Stop,” she only said that and then everyone hated her. You never go against the group, you never try to make yourself different, you never try to fight back.

In the end, I understood the difference between torture and bullying: one was for hurting and one was for fun.

During middle school, the bullying stepped up a notch. Some of my classmates went to my same middle school, they had many friends there and the rumors spread like wildfire. Many of the students liked to take their stress out by bullying other students. They were pathetic and talentless, they hated anyone who had potential unless they provided them anything, like Hayoon.

Smoking was illegal. But they didn’t care. They found all the corners of the school where the CCTV didn’t see them and studied where the professors usually walked to avoid their path. It wasn’t always perfect and sometimes they were caught but it sure helped them and the bullies.

One day, I was dragged by my hair behind the basketball court and after getting pushed to the ground, the girls started slapping, laughing, and kicking me. The smoke from their cigarettes and the kicks to my belly and back took the air out of me. I couldn’t breathe and I thought I was going to die. They were experienced—they noticed my lack of breath, gave me breaks to catch it, and started kicking me again.

They were caught by a teacher who forgot his bag. They claimed they were only giving me “birthday punches” and didn’t admit anything, nor apologized. They weren’t stupid either. The girls had a very good reputation and a good student persona, essentially they didn’t have any criminal records.

When I was asked what happened, I was ready to tell them all the atrocities that took place in school. But then, I remembered the girls’ eyes. I looked at the professor and I knew, right there and then, that he didn’t believe me, even before I said anything. They wouldn’t have done anything but the word would have been out, that I snitched on the bullies and then I wouldn’t have survived.

So I stayed silent.

The girls only got punished for smoking after they explained they only wanted to try and continued to do it anyway.

Between the end of middle school and the start of high school, the bullies got more creative. They tied me up and broke my legs with a crowbar. The older the girls got, the more of them wanted to be idols, and the first thing they had to do was to get rid of the competition. They succeeded as I stopped dancing altogether since that day.

I continued singing but nobody wants to see an idol in a wheelchair, right?

After I couldn’t walk normally anymore, they started treating me like a rag. They used me to clean the bathroom, by pushing me around on the floor, putting my face against the toilet, and mopping me with dirty water. I was like a toy to them and their friends joined the fun.

Part 2

It was no wonder that many bullied students leave the school. Sometimes, they leave on their own, because they can’t stand the torture anymore, other times, the school removes them. The bullies only bully others because they can and they know they can get away with it: they have influential parents or come from wealthy families, so the school can only quietly get rid of the problem and those are the victims that can’t stay quiet.

The class in my department didn’t have many students but it was enough: 20 students. During the year, 5 students left, and at the end of the year, 2 others were sent to another school in the province. The remaining 13 weren’t enough to be left alone in the classroom so they joined us with a class from another department that also lost many students. In total, we were 31, which was a big number but they didn’t have any other choice.

You were one of those students. I only noticed you after a week because I got used to keeping my eyes low not to anger any of my classmates. You sat beside me. People usually tend to avoid me since they could also become victims of the bullies but you knew it and it was your decision.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked me. When I heard your voice, I had a moment of hesitation. I kept staring at the wooden desk but then I thought that you might have accused me of being rude for ignoring you and that would have been a good enough reason to pick on me, so I raised my eyes.

“No, it isn’t,” I replied. Your eyes were cold. I genuinely thought you were a bully too.

“Then, can I seat here?”

“You can if you want…” I told you, unsure. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? You fart a lot?”

I was taken aback. “No! I don’t.”

“I suppose it’s fine then,” you said and took the chair out to take your desk. You started getting ready for the lesson and didn’t seem to have any intention of doing anything to me. Every time someone spoke to me, it was to make a comment, make a joke, or give me an order. Still, I was suspicious of you.

The lesson proceeded as usual. You took your notes very diligently, writing almost everything the teacher said, making graphs and small summaries to keep your memory fresh. If you were to tell me you were the top student in your class, I would have believed it and later I’d find out you really were.

Your behavior wasn’t the one of a bully. And it wasn’t the behavior of a bullied either.

At the end of the last lesson before the lunch break, the teacher gave us surveys for our future career choices. I stared at the paper with a pen in my hand. What should I write? My future, my future was stolen from me. My dream was as meaningful as an ant’s life. After everything they did and said to me, a miserable life of insignificance and sadness sounded perfectly fit for me. I kept wondering and pondering until you turned to me.

“What do you want to do when you grow up, Chaewon?” you asked me while you were lazily spinning your pen between your fingers.

“I- I don’t know, what about you?” I stuttered. I couldn’t bring myself up to pronounce those words. I felt as if I had been banished from even muttering them and thinking about it only brought me horrible memories.

“Web security,” you said. “I go around and check companies’ safety in their servers and sites. I’ve already started an internship so I’m sure it’s what I’m going to do.”

“An internship? This early?”

“Yeah, I figured the more experience I get, the better. I got nothing better to do anyways.”

“Don’t you have any hobbies? Don’t you hang out with your… friends?”

“I don’t have that many friends, to be honest,” you replied nonchalantly. “I mean, I do go out like once every three months so it isn’t a lot but I still have friends I can talk to. I’ve never been good with people, I guess.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“I was always better on my own. I tried a lot of stuff and I liked web stuff better,” then you turned to me for a second time, looking at me more intensely than before, “but you didn’t answer my question yet. What do you wanna do?”

Being put on the spot like that, I wasn’t sure about what I was allowed to say. More than that, I didn’t know what I really wanted, if the dust of my once desire was still in me if my heart wasn’t dead cold. However, after all these years, a subtle string of fate kept me going and it was still something that I liked doing.

I looked at your eyes. They didn’t scare me.

“I want to be… an idol,” I said in a single breath. After I finished the sentence, a heavy feeling of guilt dawned on me. I felt as if I just committed a crime and I was in danger.

But you didn’t judge me.

“An idol, huh?” You laid back on your chair. “That’s pretty cool. I know it’s very hard if you really want to do it, props to you. It takes some guts to train for that stuff. To dance all day, to have everyone look at you, it’s something.”

“Do- do you think I can do it?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t know how well you dance, or how good you sing, or even what you tested for.”

“But is it a possible dream?”

“You can watch idols too, right? They had the same dream as you did. They did it. I think it’s possible, yeah. And I think you can do it, Chaewon.”

When you said that, I felt so relieved. It was comforting. Finally, I found someone that didn’t hate me, that didn’t shame and believed in me.

Just as you stopped talking, the bell rang. It was the time.

“Oh, look at her, ms. Idol,” said Yejun and pushed my head away for fun. He started laughing.

“Hands off, Yejun. And go away before I sock you in the face,” you said.

“I’m so scared, oh my god,” he laughed. “What do you think you’ll do huh? Do you want to protect this filthy rag? How generous,” he said and then slapped me.

“That’s enough, fuckface,” you got up and stared into his eyes. “That’s the last warning. Leave before I do something I might regret.”

He scoffed. “Really, you talk a lot. Don’t forget that you work for my father.”

“I don’t think you get it, Yejun. I don’t just work for your father. He depends on me. One click and his whole 20 servers will blow up. Do you really think that incompetent fool of your father fixed all the problems? He doesn’t know shit about his stuff, he only knows how to count money and scam his workers. There are so many weaknesses I could just hack the whole thing and change your company to my name.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be. Now, that I’ve seen who this rag of yours is, tell your friends to keep their hands off her. I don’t want to see your father come back and beg at me and he’ll know it was all your fault. Everyone listens to you apparently, so spread the word. I won’t hesitate.”

Yejun stormed out of the class in anger.

I felt like I was reborn, that I finally found my savior. You were the angel I needed and you came to save me from this hell.

“I don’t like this place, let’s get out of here,” you said and I followed you.

We went to grab lunch but right behind the vending machines you got attacked. He called you a nerd, whatever he did, but I couldn’t stand it. I felt a force in me and I grabbed his neck, I squeezed until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

I’ll be honest, if it wasn’t for you trying to get me off, I would have killed him.

Just as that guy run off, you freaked out. I didn’t blame you. Still, you took my arm and pulled me to somewhere more covered to talk to me, scared that someone else might have seen it. I could see the surprise in your eyes, but you didn’t look terrified, you were concerned if anything.

Your hand was still bleeding, the red liquid dripped to the floor. I stared at the droplets, slowly coloring the grey concrete, as if it was the ticking of a clock. At each tick, I was getting more impatient, there was something inside me that wanted to jump out, run after who hurt you, and make him pay for it. But I had to calm down, you were in front of me.

“Chaewon, what the hell!” you whisper-shouted while repeatedly glancing behind your back and into the hallway. “Where did that come from?”

“I-I don’t know what happened,” I stuttered. I was saying the truth—at the time, I truly didn’t know why I reacted in the way I did. I never raised my hands, I never talked back, I never reacted.

“Shit, I’m bleeding a lot,” you cursed. You gritted your teeth and started walking towards the school clinic. I followed you.

You talked to me as we were walking. “You don’t just choke people randomly, you know?”

“I- I really swear! I pro-promise… I have no idea what happened!”

“Listen, Chaewon, I saw you pinning his neck against the wall. You raised a senior with one hand.”

When we were in front of the nurse's office, you pinched your nose and waved your hand to stop me from talking. The cuff of your white shirt was stained with red, it already spread so much in just a short time. You must have been in pain. My blood was boiling.

“You can explain yourself later,” you said and opened the door. “I have to close this wound first.”

I followed you into the room. For some reason, the room was empty, there was no trace of the nurse and it looked like she hasn’t been there for a long time as everything was very tidy and the coat hanger was empty. Often, when people can avoid work, they’ll do it. The nurse must have seen that there was no one needing her in the morning and decided to leave for some coffee.

You sat on one of the beds, keeping your arm stretched out so the blood wouldn’t stain the sheets and with another hand, you searched into the cabinet for something you could help yourself with. You took out bandaids, alcohol, gauze and cotton buds. You really made a mess, trying to pour the alcohol on your arm and spilling half of the content on the floor.

After sloppily cleaning yourself with cotton, you got the bandaids.

“Do you really think bandaids will do?” I asked you. “It’s way too deep.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Yeah, we have to put stitches on you.” I took the chairs from the desk and sat in front of you. In the cabinet beside the bed, there were also needles and thread for that procedure. Luckily there was an anesthetic as well.

I put on gloves. I cleaned your wound again, better than you did before, and applied the anesthetic gel. It took about two minutes to take effect, in the meanwhile I prepared the rest of the equipment I needed: forceps, curved needle, and new thread.

When I was sure you didn’t feel anything, I started stitching your wound.

“How did you learn this?” you asked me so curiously.

“I… I got used to taking care of myself,” I said softly. It was embarrassing. You nodded. I could feel your eyes scan me, looking at all my bruises, the bandaids on my face, and many more wounds underneath my shirt.

You sighed. “I’m sorry. I hope they won’t attack you anymore. Always stay with me, they are scared of people who have a known name.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think it will do anything.”

“Just do as I say,” you repeated. I could see how sure you were from your face. You definitely didn’t see, as my face was facing the floor, but I smiled for the first time after you said that. Your desire of protecting me was honest. I was really happy that you cared for me.

When I came home, I had the time to think through what happened that day. As I was drinking a cup of water, I looked at myself in the reflection of the window, my fingers tracing my wounds and bruises, itching the dried blood on my nails. Where did that strength come from? I could have sworn they had taken every ounce of energy from me, I knew I had no will, no ambition, no desire to even talk back until today. And yet, I hurt him.

I felt good. It didn’t feel good to hurt him per se but to know I defended you. As to him, I should have killed him. But you stopped me. You shouldn’t have done that. He hurt you. That shabby gross fool tried to hurt you, how could he?!

I was so lucky to have caught you before it was late. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened to you if he succeeded—the bruises on your face, the blood on your face—you would have looked just like me. No, I couldn’t stand that. You didn’t deserve to go through the pain that I did, not after you defended me. Oh, if only I could lay my hand on those sinners, the pain I could inflict them, all the experiences that I felt inside my skin, into my very flesh.

I want to hear them scream. To beg for forgiveness. To regret their very existence. I want them to apologize to you, to offer their life…

Crack

I looked down at my hands. What a mess. I completely shattered the cup I was holding—bits of sharp glass everywhere, even some into my skin. The veins of my hand were bulging, I could feel the blood in my body flowing so fast and forcefully. The adrenaline was high in my brain.

I didn’t realize what I did until I heard the sudden noise.

It was true, just as you said. It wasn’t me. But why? This must have happened because I was thinking of you getting hurt… yes, it was your thought, just you. It was because of you. I didn’t want to see you hurt, you were my only hope in this world, just the thought sent a shock through my spine and into my head, and I would go crazy.

You made me like this.

Completely insane.

“Chaewon! What happened?” I heard Yujin calling me and I turned around to see her rushing out the hallway. Yujin was my roommate, we shared the rent because it was cheaper that way. She wasn’t a bad person, not at all. But she couldn’t understand my life, she lived between rich girls and handsome guys.

To be kind, you need to know what misery is. She was just nice.

“Oh, Kirin-chan,” I said.

“How did you break your glass?” she asked worryingly, grabbing a towel to clean my bloody hand of the bits of glass.

“My bad, I was standing up and it just slipped out of my hand.”

“Then how did it get all over your palm?”

“I slipped and fell right onto it, you know how clumsy I am.”

“Yeah,” she commented without much belief, “just like all the time you come home with bruises on your face.”

“It isn’t my fault if they don’t put warnings after cleaning the stairs.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she repeated. “Anyways, don’t forget to clean it up, I’ll go back to studying,” she ended, turning around and leaving the lounge to return to her prettier room.

I continued to stare at my hand.

I couldn’t help but think about you again… my head got foggy… my thoughts haunting…

What if they scarred you?

What if they bullied you?

What if girls broke your heart?

What if you were friends with the wrong people?

I knew I was crossing a line when those questions took form but it was too late and I didn’t even care anymore. It was a promise I made myself, to protect who I loved, and I swore I wouldn’t fail again. I would protect you forever, no matter what.

I feared that you’d run away from me but instead, we got way closer than before. When I walked into school the day after the incident, I was genuinely scared I wouldn’t have seen you—that you had stayed at home, that you changed class or even school. What worried me the most was the fact that you could have been scared of me.

I waited for you anxiously. I kept scratching my nails, rubbing my arms, looking around for you. So many times I got up and walked around the paths outside the school where I thought you’d usually walk, even if I didn’t know well what were your habits, and not finding you, I’d sit back at the wall and wait again.

After several minutes, you arrived at school. At the sight of you, my dizziness and worries faded away. I immediately ran at you and hugged you so tight, you had to know how much I missed you.

You were surprised, of course, you were. “Huh? What has gotten into you Chaewon?” you laughed jokingly.

“I just thought you wouldn’t come to school anymore,” I told you.

“Why would I do that? Today is a school day.”

“It’s okay, that’s perfect. I’m just so glad I can see you again.”

Part 3

The door opened to the locker room and I and the other trainees entered sitting down. They changed their clothes from casual streetwear to old clothes and gym wear. I’ve been training for a bit now, I got to know all the trainees well, there were a lot before but now they only remained half. The one that finished first started stretching. "It's one minute and a half. Let's do this," she sighed.

One of them threw to the other a white sheet with a name written on it and did the same with the others. "Here. Your name tags."

"That's it? Just a minute?" the girl chuckled.

"A minute and a half. Everyone does their part and it's a difficult choreography, don't you forget. It will be enough."

"It's for evaluation. Don't forget every detail counts," another girl added.

We went out of the room and made our way toward the practice room, each one with a name tag on it. The corridor leading to it was cold, probably because they just changed from thick to thin clothes, but it got hotter towards the end where the air got denser. One at a time, they entered bowing at the line of men sitting on the right of the mirror in front of the door.

Everyone had papers and a pen and a serious look plastered on their faces. After a couple of stretches, the girls got into position and the music started. They smiled and danced with their full capability and the judges looked sharp. When the music stopped they held their ending pose and went in a line waiting for their words. The air suddenly felt cold.

"There had been improvements on what we said the first time. But we can also fix others," the first said and the men nodded. They wrote on the paper and scribbled.

"You. When the others did their move you were coordinated and that's fine but you did it wrong. You need to raise your hand higher," he said making the move himself and the girl followed.

"Can you do the move a bit before the ending?" another one asked, gesturing his intention. "Yes, that one. Please get into the position and do it."

They did and when it came to the next section he spoke again, "One more time."

"Once more."

"Five...six.. seven... eight... an-"

"Okay," he said and got up walking to the center of the room. He demonstrated the move more and more times. "Don't tense your muscles too much when you do this alright?"

"But," the oldest got up, "you were all a lot better today, good job. Specially Soojin and Gaeul."

"That's it, goodbye," they said.

"Thank you!" the girls answered together.

BLAM. The oldest almost slips as he got out and the others held him up. The girls let out a muffled laugh, their mouths covered with their hands."See girls, don't tense your muscles too much or they won't work properly," the man chuckled. The judges left fast, embarrassed by their eldest and the group laughed in relief.

"Are we really doing this? They are not saying anything anymore."

The youngest looked at them from the ground, laid down breathing hard, and said, "We're close to debuting."

When everyone was done with their stuff and cleaned themselves they left. Almost all of them ran out to catch the last bus of the day or were just in a hurry. I, on the other hand, had to walk home so I did everything slower. When I got out, in the distance, I heard a group of girls around my age shouting and laughing. When they got closer, I realized they were my classmates, there were about four of them and they were drunk.

They noticed me.

"Look at you. It's late, pretty girls like you shouldn't stay out," one of them said and I frowned.

"Don't tell me. You were practicing?" she said laughing. The other three got in a semi-circle in front of me.

"It's a really difficult life isn't it, miss idol? Everybody wants you and you're here dancing until late," she mocked me, with her fingers under her eyes faking tears, and let out a hearty laugh. The choir followed with a carol of joy.

"It's sad really," she continued, "so popular but so tired."

She pushed me down on the ground and the group stepped back making more space for the two. She forcefully pulled my hair, forcing me to get up. The girl got closer and said, "And you're so pretty. It would be a shame if anything happened to this pretty face."

She slapped me. They laughed. They kicked me. I tried to defend myself, curling into a fetus position and protecting my head. They snickered as they continued wasting the effects of the alcohol on me. When they were finally satisfied, they got up and left me there on the side of the road and went away to the opposite way of where they came from.

I remained on the ground with tears on her face and sobbed trying not to make any noise, I wanted silence. However I heard their voices again, from the distance, and they were screaming.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the same girl as before squealed."We're girls, you think you can-." The group gasped.

"You're five and I'm one and you just beat that girl up. You think I care?" It was a male voice.

The girls ran away but the guy didn't try to chase them and walked to me.

"There's a convenience store nearby, we can get something cold for your face," he said with a soft tone. I recognized the voice and looked at him, I recognized his face too. It was you. My legs trembled a little as I held myself upon your shoulder for support. "It's fine, take your time," you said dusting my back.

At the shop, you bought a bag of frozen peas so I could put it on my face where it still hurts. "I ate those for dinner, they're great. I can use them for everything, look, you're using them too now," you said and I laughed. I calmed down a little and your face got more serious and worried.

"I told you. Starting from tomorrow I'll bring you home," you said.

"But it was only this time," I said.

"And the other four before."

"Kind of."

"Being there by 11:30 should be good."

"But you should sleep."

"I would just be studying, and either way, it's way better to have your company," you insisted, leaning down on the chair. A small smile formed on my face. Ever since that day, the two always walked home late at night even when it was freezing or when it was raining. We got way closer.

You grew up so well. Unfortunately, many girls seemed to notice you and fall for you. I don’t blame them, you were very charming, so attractive for such a young student but I couldn’t let them near you. They were fools, too stupid to realize they were nowhere close to your level, you were levels above and they were just insects. I had to make sure no one bothered you, to avoid you crying because some worthless bitch broke your heart.

I was surprised when you told me you got asked out. But then I felt my chest burn.

There’s only one thing that I can’t stand in this world and that’s people who think they can take what’s mine. I don’t care about gossip, jealousy or envy, I don’t have anyone to compete with, I just want what’s mine. And you are mine.

It was so easy to scare them away. All it took was a quick talk behind the school, a very convincing speech, a cutter to their throats…

They were scared of me. Good. You didn’t suspect anything—they’d still smile at me as if nothing happened, I made sure to tell them. I couldn’t let you know, to worry more than you already were.

The bullying had completely stopped towards me because you were always by my side defending me and eventually they all got the message. If you were just a crush before, now I love you. If I loved you, now I worship you. You’re my religion, my god, my purpose. I’ll kill for you, live for you, and I’ll love you forever. Wherever you go, I’ll follow you. Whether that’s heaven, hell, or any other world. My very existence is embroidered into your name, I can’t exist without you.

Things were going great, so great. You only had eyes for me. Those two beautiful pupils could only look at me, at my face, at my body, only at me. I loved when you stared at me, I was yours after all, you could watch how much you wanted.

That was until those two eyes became one. You got a big bruise on your left eye, it was swollen, black, and horrible.

You were waiting for me near the big tree behind the school like you always did, and you talked to me like you always did, without worry or pain. “Hey, Chaewon,” you greeted me.

“What happened?!”

“Nothing, I just hurt myself,” you lied. How naive you were, you were too kind, too nice. I didn’t believe you one single bit. I wonder why you did that? Why did you lie to me? Was it to protect whoever did that to you? To protect who hurt you?

“Tell me. Tell me, who hurt you?” I asked you calmly.

“It’s really nothing Chae… I’m serious, I only hurt myself—”

“TELL ME WHO THE HELL HURT YOU RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!” I asked again, the sudden increase in volume startled you and you backed away into the tree. I didn’t know at the time, and you’d tell me later, but my eyes were empty. You got scared, I apologize, I just couldn’t help it.

“Ch-Chaewon?” you stuttered.

When I realized you were terrified, I calmed down. “Huh? Oh, my bad, sorry… I was just really worried, but now, please tell me.” I shook my head and took a couple of steps back.

“Okay, I will tell you… it was Seojun,” you finally confessed. “I bumped into him and spilled his drink on his uniform. I apologized, but since I was alone and his ‘friends’ were with him, they thought they could get their revenge on me.”

“I see… let’s get you some ice for that eye for now,” I told you and we started to walk into the infirmary for the second time. I hated walking into that place, especially with you. I tried my best to hold it inside me, not to scare you again, but I was going to snap anytime soon.

“Chae, are you alright?” you asked me.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, dear… and it will okay from now on. You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.”

You know, people say that the first time is special, you never forget it. The first time I bathed my hands in the warm liquid that is human blood, my body was cold. I felt hesitation at first, but I knew I was doing it for you, and thinking about you, all that fear was gone. And I killed him.

Yes, it was me that killed Seojun. I don’t regret one bit what I’ve done to him. I made sure he suffered as much as he made you suffer. An eye for an eye, as they say.

That day was special, it was like I confessed to you and instead of a ring, I gave you a life. It was only fair you’d give me your life in return.

The murder of Seojun made headlines in the news and when asked about it, the students never said anything nor praised or acted sad at his death. No one missed him. It’s quite sad that life can be so insignificant that not a single person will care about how gruesome your death was and forget you the next day. To be quite honest, he deserved it. We die in the same way we live.

You were a bit suspicious of me at first. You didn’t really doubt me—you were curious. The news of his death was delivered by our professor during the first period with a sigh before continuing the lesson. The reactions were mixed but mostly towards one extreme: relief.

When a bad person dies, two things will happen: if you’re a good person or a victim, you will be happy; if you’re equally bad then you’ll be scared, because you know he already got what he deserved and nothing prevented you from having the same fate as nothing is stronger than luck.

You were both worried and glad. I’ve always noticed how you tend to care about other people, it’s something that I really love about you, you just have to direct toward the people who deserve it. “Hey, Chae, do you know anything about Seojun’s murder?” you asked me during the break. You were hesitant at first but I was sure you’ve thought about it long enough to decide to spill it.

You must have thought about what I said the other day: You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.

“Huh?” I raised my eyebrow at you. “Why would I have anything to do with his death?”

“W-well… you see… you said that I didn’t have to worry about him anymore and the next day… he dies.” Your shoulders were so tight almost as if you were trying to keep the words inside of you. Your gaze flitted around the room, never settling on one person or object for long.

“It must have been a coincidence,” I told you. “And karma.”

“Right,” you muttered. Then you relaxed your shoulders.

“By the way,” I changed the topic, “there is going to be the last test before the debut at Hybe.”

Your eyes changed completely, they brightened. Every time I talked about my dream, you always seemed too excited for me. You fully believed in my ambition and constantly encouraged me to keep trying. Whenever I practiced, I always thought of you.

I always think of you.

“That’s awesome, Chae. It’s your opportunity, you wanted to become an idol all this time.”

“I will start practicing right away then,” I said. “I want to be with you that day. Can you come with me?”

“What day will it be?”

“Next Saturday, 4:00 pm.”

“Next Saturday… 4:00 pm,” you repeated. “I’ll make sure to be there—I will be there, I will.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and hugged you. You were still a bit against the idea of hugging but slowly you were getting used to it. I trusted that you’ll eventually come to love it.

I had prepared about four songs for the test: two for my singing and two for my dancing, one of them was good for both. I decided to be very broad with my songs because if they asked for more, I’d be prepared. You never know. I didn’t want to go there and have them ask for a random song and fail horribly.

You were waiting for me in front of the building with a little bag of snacks. I mentioned all of them before to you and you remembered. Some of them were for when I’d finish the whole thing and some as a snack to calm my nerves.

Honestly, I felt like you were my boyfriend already. If anyone saw us together, they’d say the same thing. Every little thing you did was so full of attention, I knew you cared for me, and I loved you so much.

Anyways, the time came. I bid you goodbye and entered.

The test went terribly wrong.

You waited two hours for me, only for me to blow it all up. When I came out, I was so embarrassed, I didn’t want you to see me at all.

“So Chae, how was it?” you asked but I didn’t reply. It was hard to come up with any word at all. I couldn’t even look at you in the eyes.

“Chae?”

“Chaewon?”

You finally got enough at the third time and you grabbed my shoulder to shake and direct my gaze at you. “Chaewon, answer me please!” you said with an upset tone.

“Do you… do you think I’m a failure?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked back.

“Hey, am I a failure? Tell me. Were the guys right? I am not meant to be an idol after all, should I give up after all? Tell me, please!” I hiccuped and cried. I was truly heartbroken. It was the test per se but the fact that I disappointed you, that I wasted all your determination and belief you had in me.

“Chaewon, no…” you whispered and went for a hug. It was awkward, you didn’t know how to hug. You tried to put a hand on my shoulder and one on my hip, but it didn’t work. Then you tried to put both of them on my shoulder but you looked like you wanted to headbut me. On the third try, you succeeded and properly hugged me very tightly.

I buried my head into your chest, it was where I could really feel safe.

“Chaewon, what happened in there? How did it go?”

“I FAILED! I BLEW IT ALL UP! IT’S ALL GONE!” I yelled and gripped you harder.

“How is that possible? You’re perfect, I mean, you sing so beautifully and you’re beautiful,” you said. “You’ve been practicing… why? How?”

“I’m sorry it’s that I was so worried. I got distracted. I continued to ask myself if I’d fail and so on… I knew the lyrics but I got jittery and…”

“No, Chaewon! I told you to believe in yourself. You can do it. You can do it.”

“But—”

“You have talent, Chae,” you repeated, “and I’ve seen it since day one. You will not fail. You just have to try again.”

I was embarrassed to see if I could try again but you weren’t and you stormed inside the building, dragging me by arm to ask the staff if I could try again. You explained everything and even pleaded with them until they gave in.

This time, you were waiting for me outside the door. I knew I wouldn’t fail again.

Don’t think about anything else. Focus.

I sang the first song. Just like I practiced. Then I danced. It was perfect.

I passed. I was so happy and I just had to tell you. I ran outside but you weren’t there.

I searched everywhere until I understood you weren’t in the building and had to search for you outside. I found you in an alley, bloody and bruised.

I immediately called the ambulance and they rushed you to the hospital. Your condition was so bad they had to x-ray your whole body and do a small surgery.

When I found you, you could barely talk or even breathe. You were laying in a pool of blood, that came from the numerous cuts all over your body—they weren’t clean but all rough and jacked, meaning they came from brute force and not blades. Your clothes were also messed up and ripped. Together, I could count on 19 injuries at least. I couldn’t understand at all. Why would someone do that to you? And how did it happen?

Together with you was a bag with two drinks and a couple of sandwiches. I suppose you went outside to a convenience store to buy something, maybe for me, and then… you were attacked. This may have been premeditated, it’s impossible a group of people randomly hurt you that bad.

I couldn’t stop crying, you know?

To see you in those conditions, I could only think of the worse.

What if you’d never wake up again?

What if you’d be miserable for the rest of your life?

What if you died?

It was my fault. I’m sorry, it was totally my fault. It was because I took way too long in the test, chatting with the staff, seeing the other girls so happily, while you were being jumped… I could have protected you, we could have gone home together and this would have never happened.

The doctor called me. “Kim Chaewon?”

“Yes?” I raised my eyes. I saw him and wiped my tears before standing up and walking to him.

“Is he okay…?” I asked.

“He’s not in danger is what I can tell you. Some of his bones are broken and he has received a concussion, he may be asleep for a while, you see,” he said.

“Can I see him?”

“Yes, you can,” the doctor agreed, “this way…”

He guided me toward another floor of the hospital. You have been transferred from the emergency room to the patient’s rooms. You were in the section where more care was needed—the hallway was quieter, everyone walked slower, and everything was more gentle.

I entered your room slowly, holding myself up with a hand on the door frame and then I saw you. Your eyes were closed. Your whole body was covered in bandages and you were hooked to all sorts of machines with cables and cords everywhere. It was almost like seeing a puppet tied up in strings and they were keeping you alive.

I was scared to come close to you. I feared that any of my movements could have damaged you even more. You were so fragile at that moment.

I gently lowered myself to the chair next to your bed and held your hand. I cried. I cried again, so much. I couldn’t help but keep thinking it was my fault. If only I was quicker…

Some of your items were put in the drawer. I noticed your phone together with your wallet and backpack. The screen was cracked and some of the blood crusted into the cracks. I don’t know why I felt curious but I unlocked the screen—you trusted me enough to let me know your password months ago to check some messages while you were busy cooking—and it opened KakaoTalk. You were texting me and the phone memorized it.

Chae be careful the bullies might be after you

Don’t go in the shortcut at the

Oh, dear. You were on the brink of death and all you could think was to warn me, to protect me. You didn’t even think of calling for help. I understood everything. It was those bullies again… they didn’t forget, did they? It’s because their life turned to hell after they didn’t have anyone to bully anymore and they got revenge but attacking you.

I was angry. I was furious. I was so pissed that I unconsciously cracked your phone even more. It was that feeling again, all over—the fire in my chest.

I will kill them. Each one of the. I will make them suffer. I will tear them to shreds. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them.

I will make them pay for everything they have done for you.

They were so stupid. It was so easy to trick them: I attacked their leader when he was coming home late and forced him to send a message to everyone who was involved in your attack—he confessed right away when I showed him my knife.

The guys came on point the next day. It was all so easy. They always hung out at the abandoned warehouse where they could make all the mess they wanted and dragged their victims to torture them properly and in private. Now they were dragging themselves to their death.

I dressed in black that day. You never liked seeing me in black. People used to tell me I tried to stand out too much so they forced me to use torn, old, ugly clothes, but when they stopped tormenting me, you brought me to buy more clothes for me.

But that day I wasn’t dressing as the victim. I was in the guise of the Grim Reaper.

I prepared my knives, axes, clamps, nails, and staplers and waited for them in the building.

Humans are so easy to kill. They are so frail and mortal—I had to be extremely careful not to let them die immediately to cause them all the pain they deserved. I’ll spare you the details. You don’t have to know of the gruesome parts of their murder. I’ll just tell you everything they did to you and in their years of bullying, I did to them. From crowbars to knives, to fire and stabbing.

When the last one stopped screaming, I felt at peace. The silence was absolute. I couldn’t even hear the wind, the cars, or the noises of the city. It was completely quiet.

I finally avenged you.

Part 4

Disposing of the bodies was quite simple but extremely tiring. I had to chop their bodies to bits, bury them and hide all the evidence. I cleaned with bleach all my weapons, the floor, and the walls of the warehouse. I had to soil the floor since it was dirty before and I couldn’t leave a clean patch in there, it would have been a dead giveaway.

Of course, I had to get rid of all their phones. I broke them into little pieces before grinding them up to a bag of dust and flushing them down the toilet.

I got most of my weapons from around the city. I stole the knives from the school kitchen and returned them to them. I did the crime on a Friday night and finished in the evening of Saturday so they wouldn’t have noticed the disappearance of their tools. I bought the rest of the tools from a hardware store so I could have just put it in someone else’s garage.

I couldn’t burn my clothes or rags because that would have caught the attention of my neighbors or anyone nearby so I colored it with all sorts of paints so the blood would have been unrecognizable. If anyone analyzed them, it would look like they were of an artist. And then I disposed of them.

Burying the bodies was the most laborious part and I could only do it during the night. It took me both Saturday and sunday to get rid of all the evidence.

The next days were all marked by nightmares. I didn’t dream of what I did. What haunted me was you leaving me. I was afraid that my crime could have separated us.

Chaewon, you’re a monster.

I can’t be friends with a murderer.

I can’t love a killer.

I hate you.

I wish you died.

I was distressed and jittery during the day and couldn’t sleep at night. Many times I would get distracted in those thoughts, imagining all the things you could say to me, and not realize people calling me. I would often zone out and not hear anything else.

“Chaewon? Are you okay?” my classmates would tell me. I would snap out of my daze and realize most of them were looking at me then I’d realize I actually chipped a corner of the table off with my grip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s nothing,” I could only say. They would continue with the day forgetting about it or just tell their friends excitedly about a classmate with a freakish strength.

It was especially hard when I was training with the other trainees but I told myself you wouldn’t be proud of me if I wasn’t doing my best and forced myself to dance.

On Monday, their disappearance was announced but nobody could find anything. Not a single trace. The secret was safe with me.

They also announced your attack but they didn’t connect the two events together, assuming you were also a victim. The attacks in this Korea were common anyways. Bullying was so widespread you could say it was part of our culture.

After a week. you were still asleep. The doctor concluded that they must have stomped your head too for you to be concussed that badly. They damaged the nerves.

Unfortunately, I knew only after I killed them. If I knew I would have done the same to them so they could feel the pain you felt but I guess cutting their limbs counts as nerve damage as well.

I was getting extremely impatient waiting for your awakening. The doctor couldn’t help me but it wasn’t their fault. I’ve only realized now how much I relied on you and those days without you were as sad as Halloween without candies.

When I woke up, I couldn’t tell if the Sun rose already or if it was still sunrise, it was timid, and the light cast a somber hue in the room. It was gray and pale. The soundscape was eerily quiet, the usual chirping birds seemed to have disappeared, as if even nature was mourning alongside me.

Walking through the corridors of the school, I felt like a solitary figure amidst a sea of faces. Conversations echoed around me, yet they seemed distant. The classrooms, usually alive with energy, felt suffocatingly silent.

I couldn’t help but notice how happy the other students went on with their days, completely ignoring what happened to you. Worst of all, some students even mocked you, saying you were a loser and you deserved it. My bloodthirst was beyond the roof. I had to hold myself back a lot not to commit other killings, reminding myself that I could have raised a case of a serial killer if I wasn’t careful enough.

I thought I had been sneaky enough not to raise any suspicion but I didn’t know the only person to find out would have been you.

I was in an alley near the hospital when I met one of those mean girls. They were badmouthing you and I had to make sure they wouldn’t do it again. I didn’t kill them, you don’t have to worry about that. I merely sent a message, a little punishment. I got one nail for each insult they said toward you. Poor them, they won’t have nails for months—I hope it hurts.

They ran away but when I turned around, I saw you. You were looking at me so horrified and disgusted.

“I had my suspicions, Chae…” you said. “The coincidence was too perfect. I woke up and saw the news, I knew it was you. And now, I’m sure.”

“You’re mistaken, dear,” I tried to say foolishly.

“Chae, I saw everything.” Your face morphed into an extreme melancholy, of disappointment and sadness. My face instead contorted into a horrified frown. You… my best and only friend, my love. You discovered my worse secret—I knew what the consequences were and I knew what the risks were.

“I mean, what are you even doing here? Weren’t you still sleeping?”

“I woke up this morning—I got discharged—and the doctor let me take a walk… and then I saw you.”

“Do you know what I did all of this, darling?” I asked, my nerves were so tense and my blood was pumping like crazy. I was getting more and more scared. There was a thread inside me that was being pulled and pulled…

“W-what is it?” you asked with hesitation.

“It’s because… I… I love you.”

I saw the shock on your face but I couldn’t stop myself anymore. I did it. I snapped. You found out and there was no turning back. You didn’t have a choice either.

“W-what? What are you saying?”

“Darling, don’t you get it? I love you so so so so so much. I love you so much—to the point I killed for you. Yes, I did kill them. I murdered them. I slaughtered them. I made them suffer, love, the way they made you suffer… Please! Please understand—I’m doing this because I love you.”

“Chae, you’re scaring me. Stop…”

“Oh, don’t be scared, my love. I would never harm you or kill you… I would only cherish you—in fact, I did all of this to protect you from those bastards! I love you with all of my heart.”

That fire inside of me took over again and this time I was already glued to you, my knee under your thigh, pinning you to the wall, a hand on your cheek and one near your waist. You couldn’t move at all, I wouldn’t let you. I was finally this close to you… your skin was so smooth and soft—just like you, my precious baby.

Maybe I was smiling a bit too much. You’d describe to me later that I looked psychotic, yes, I was crazy.

You didn’t know how to react. I admit, you were so cute—so vulnerable and fragile, just at my mercy. Yet, you dared to take and push my hand away from your face.

“Chae, I’m sorry,” you said and it almost broke my heart, “but I just… I-I- I don’t know…” you said.

“What aren’t you sure about? Is it my love? Is it not clear enough?” I asked. “I’ll do anything for you, just ask me.”

“Please stay away from me,” you replied, “for a while.”

“What are you saying, darling?”

“Chae… you’re my best friend and I understand why you did all of that. I do. But I need to think about it. Don’t worry, I won’t say this to anyone, no one at all, but I need to stay alone for a bit,” you pleaded, “I just recovered too.”

“Okay, fine,” I agreed. You were right. It was a bit too much for you, especially after you just woke up from that concrete hospital bed. Also, I knew I could trust you. You never betrayed me so that did not scare me.

You slowly backed away and left me, alone in the alley.

I don’t know why but I started laughing hysterically.

I thought I messed up a lot. That isn’t the way your lover should look at you, right? Terrified and pleading on the verge of tears. You should have looked at me lovingly. I was so scared you’d leave me and I couldn’t let you do that. I needed you too much.

But then you left me waiting for almost a month. I respected your choice and didn’t contact you at all but it’s been too long. I figured that knowing I killed tormented you so I didn’t touch anyone else but rather I kept it to simply threatening them verbally and that seemed to work.

You have to understand I couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at your pictures every night wasn’t enough. Listening to your voice from the vocal messages wasn’t enough. Smelling the shirts I stole from you wasn’t enough, and the smell was fading away. My imagination wasn’t enough, especially when I knew I could have you and I was just waiting for the right moment.

Then the right moment came. I sent you a message just to let you know, you couldn’t say no. I went right to your house, which I came over to many times already, and even your mother knew me. She let me inside with a smile, she was so kind. I knew where you got that virtue from.

I heard you running frantically around your room. You must have been dressing up, so I waited until you were done, knocked, and opened the door. Your room smelled just like I remembered it, it was so good, it was just you.

“It’s been a while, Chae,” you said, clearly nervous. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing terrible, honey,” I answered honestly and you gulped. “You know, I’ve been good to you. I waited and did nothing else. I did not kill or hurt anyone. I let you have your space, then why did you disappear for an entire month?”

“I kept thinking and reflecting on what happened…”

“For a month?” I was furious. “Did you try to make me forget you? Did you try to forget me?”

“It’s that… It has been a tough month,” you said. “My best friend murdered 6 people, or more… How could I go back to what we were before? You killed… humans.”

“So? They didn’t deserve to live anyways. I did it for you.”

“No, Chae—”

“They beat you up so badly you couldn’t even walk!” I snapped. “They badmouthed you, they laughed at you and… why are you defending them?!”

“Yes, but you took their lives.”

“They were going to take your life too! Don’t you get it?”

“Chae, please—”

“No! Shut up! I can’t take this anymore! I can’t forgive them. They’re always making fun of you, beating you up, torturing you—just because you’re my friend! But you keep shoving it away and get hurt for me… I- I…”

I hugged you. I had to hold onto something and you were the only one that could have helped me stand up. All those years… I was so pent up, I was so tired of it. I know you told me many times to let it be but I can’t. Sorry, I just can’t help it. I can’t let anyone walk away after they hurt you, even if it’s something as little as pinching you, because you mean too much to me.

“Darling, I love you!” I sobbed and pleaded onto your chest, bathed by my tears, “I missed you so much. If I don��t see you even for a day, it starts to hurt, you know? I’ll do anything to stay with you, anything! Just tell me! I want to see you every day, I can’t let you leave like this…”

“If it’s like this,” you started, “we can make a deal.”

“A-a deal? Really?”

“Yes, a deal. You can see me how much you want but absolutely no killing. No physical assault and no insults to anyone.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes, you just have to restrain yourself.”

“Very well. Then, I promise, I will never kill again, I swear. Does that mean I can see you every day?” I asked. My tears finally stopped pouring out, the hiccup was still there, but I could focus and talk to you properly now. I took a deep breath and spoke, “Then you have to be my boyfriend from now on.”

“What did you just say?” you asked with confusion.

“You can’t say no. You are my boyfriend now. You know already, I told you so many times. I love you with all of myself.”

I knew you liked me a little already. I wasn’t sure if it was as strong as my love for you was, although I doubt it can, I knew you were interested in me. No one would stick with me for that long and no one would defend me from all those bullies. I knew you loved me, of course you did, you always took care of me since our first day and I couldn’t help but fall for you too.

I tried my best to change my appearance to suit your ideal type more. I dressed better, I dieted, I worked out, and I practiced so much that I wouldn’t disappoint you.

“Chae, are you sure? I’m just a regular guy and you’re an idol…”

“Don’t lie to yourself, honey. I wouldn’t give myself to just anyone. You never laughed about me, you believed in me when nobody else did, and you infected me with your kindness and humanity. You’re the best man I can ask for.”

“Thank you…”

“You’ll be my boyfriend and I’ll be your girlfriend, okay? Do you accept?”

“Uhm…”

“Do you accept?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Ma’am?” I laughed. “Don’t tell me you have some weird fetish going on… It’s okay. Just tell me, I won’t mind, hehe.”

Part 5

You have been very strict with me. The first thing you did was to establish a set of rules and all the punishment that would have resulted in breaking them. You’ve been very clear in defining them and made sure I understood you were very serious about it and would absolutely punish me if I dared to not respect them. They were something along the line of:

NO KILLING. The punishment is an instant break-up.

NO BODY HARM to anyone. The punishment is no contact for two weeks.

NO KIDNAPPING/STALKING/THREATENING other people. The punishment is no skin touching for a week.

RESPECT YOU. We’re together in this relationship and I have to listen to you.

TRUST YOU. You'll leave me if I don’t trust you when you tell me you aren’t cheating.

I accepted them and we started dating. Our relationship was as good as it was before but this time I got to be as clingy as I wanted, hugging you as much as I wanted, holding your hand wherever we went, and most of all you gave me a lot of head pats. You always gave me head pats to congratulate me when I did well in school or had a good performance.

It was difficult to respect those rules and you showed me how convinced you were of them when I broke the hand of a guy who shoved you against the lockers. You really ghosted me for two weeks without saying anything. When they ended I couldn’t help but jump on you and I promised to be more careful. Since then, I didn’t break any other rules and you showed me your love in so many ways, I lost count of them.

We learned a lot about each other and helped each other all the time. You helped me be more confident with my skills and get angry (but you told me I was cute when I got mad). You were always a bit discouraged with your work, giving up easily, and I made sure you knew how great you were. Just like me, school has really made you more insecure about yourself, but when we were together, we achieved a lot more.

Recently I discovered a hidden diary you used to keep under your bed, between the mattress and the frame. The last thing you wrote was months ago, way before the incident, and it was you rambling about me. ABOUT ME! And it was so adorable. “I have the biggest crush on my friend!” You wrote on the last page.

I stared at the words in a daze, it was like the words were screaming in my face. I was used to only obsessing over you and knowing you were going through the same thing warmed my heart.

You know, I’ve never believed in good endings, but with you, I think I finally found one where we are the protagonists. Our story is not like a fairy tale, it’s far from perfect, I am not a princess, nor could ever be one. However, you made me feel like one and I’m more than sure you’re my prince.

Sorry if I am always so obsessive and so imperfect, I just can’t help it.

THE END

Written, 7 June - 27 June 2023

#yandere #yanderekpop #yanderekpopgg #kpop #lesserafim #chaewon #chaewon yandere #angst

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totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus · 20 days ago

Text

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 19/?

Can I offer everyone some distraction and escape tonight? If you have sent a prompt to my inbox, I will get on those tonight and tomorrow. Just wanted to get a longer offering up as well. It's going to get worse before it ever gets better. Do what you have to do to stay safe, and try to do good where you can. I pray for better days ahead.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

From the moment Tommy’s coven master stepped into the house, Evan could tell he was powerful.

Not as powerful as Tommy. Not as old as Tommy, either…but definitely not a new vampire. Something about the way he carried himself gave Evan the impression that he was used to being listened to. Obeyed. His dark eyes zeroed in on Evan as he made his way to Tommy’s living room, and even with no fangs visible, Evan absolutely received the message that this man would neither hesitate to kill him, nor feel an ounce of guilt over it. It should have been terrifying. And make no mistake, Evan was wary.

But he wasn’t afraid.

His magic hummed in the back of his mind, strong and ready to use to defend himself. Even if he had not recovered from the effects of using the teleport spell, though…Tommy wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

The knowledge settled in his mind, startling in its surety. Its absoluteness. Tommy wouldn’t let any harm come to him. Evan knew that.

He did not know how he knew that, or why it felt like such an immutable, inarguable fact. It was an insane thought to have. Sure, Tommy had put himself between Evan and danger several times already, but what possible reason could Evan have for thinking that he’d continue to do so? Against his own coven master, no less? He didn’t have one…and yet he was so completely confident in the belief that he met the vampire’s eyes squarely, his magic swirling contentedly through his body.

He listened as Tommy argued back and forth with his coven master, tensing as Alonzo revealed that the vampires were already spreading rumors about what had happened in Greenway’s office. He’d known in the back of his mind that the men who’d attacked them weren’t likely to just ride off into the sunset, never to be heard from again…but the high coven had seemed the larger threat.

He couldn’t even really blame this Alonzo person for asking Tommy to get rid of him, to turn him over to the high coven and just cut his losses. Hadn’t Evan been begging Tommy to do just that before Alonzo appeared? It was the smart play—the only play that could possibly keep Tommy and his coven out of this.

God, he wanted to give Tommy a way out of this.

“I’ve been on my own before. I can manage. Just do what I said before…let me leave and have your coven master lodge a complaint with the high coven. Tell them I spelled you. I don’t—I don’t know what to do about the vampires, but at least that’ll get my people off of your coven.”

“Well. I wasn’t expecting you to be the voice of reason. Listen to him, Thomas. We don’t have a lot of time to go with that story—not even a powerful witch could control you for very long.”

Evan ignored Alonzo, staring at Tommy as he seemed to consider their words. He wasn’t sure how this whole mess was going to end. He hoped Grant and her coven could find what they needed to in time to avoid a coven war…but Evan knew better than most the kinds of things that powerful covens could get away with when they wanted to. He wasn’t terribly confident. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to give them the chance.

He thought Tommy felt the same way. Like everything else about the vampire, it seemed a ridiculous thought to have. Three days ago, would have laughed out loud at the idea that a vampire could care about innocent people dying in a coven war. But he’d seen firsthand how much Tommy cared about his coven. Despite the horrible way they’d come into each other’s lives, Tommy had been nothing but honest with him. Honorable. Kind.

Protective.

He wasn’t an idiot. And he wasn’t naïve. Tommy had killed people. More people than Evan could probably conceive of, given how old he was. But Evan didn’t think the vampire was faking the disgust he seemed to feel for the wanton violence and cruelty of the party he’d rescued Evan from. He didn’t think Tommy was faking his desire to get to the bottom of whatever was going on in the city. Something inside Evan told him that Tommy wanted to stop what was coming just as much as Evan did.

The difference was, if Evan died in this storm they’d somehow entered into, the collateral damage would be minimal.

Sally had cut ties with him.

His parents had never cared for him to begin with.

Maddie probably thought he was already dead…or had abandoned her.

There was no one left to care if he died, but Tommy had a whole coven who would mourn him. Hell, Evan had interacted with them for less than two hours, but he could tell how close Tommy was with the two vampires who had come to the loft. There was no reason for Tommy to go down this road with him when there were so many people who would be hurt if Tommy got himself killed. He knew Tommy wouldn’t stand for just turning Evan over to the high coven, but letting him go and then taking a story about Evan casting a compulsion over Tommy to them was the absolute best move that Tommy could make. For his coven. For himself.

“I can’t do that.” The vampire’s voice was clear. Steady. Not a hint of doubt or hesitation in the words. Tommy’s eyes bored relentlessly into his, his back ramrod straight as he refused, refused the out Evan was offering him. “Evan, whoever is orchestrating all this, I’m not leaving you to face them down by yourself.”

And…what? Evan startled, barely managing to keep his mouth from falling open in shock. Wait—wait, no, he couldn’t have heard that correctly. That made no sense. That was—

“Thomas, are you insane? You can’t be serious!” Tommy’s coven master sounded as shocked as Evan felt, the cool, calm demeanor he’d been affecting since he entered the bungalow cracking.

He started to pace back and forth, his movements quick and agitated, and Evan tucked one hand behind his back, clenching his fist and focusing on his magic the way Sally had taught him, drawing it tightly inwards, ready to spring forth at his command. No witch was powerful enough to cast without the structure of a spell…but thanks to Sally’s lessons, Evan could cast faster than most.

Tommy stepped deliberately between them, facing his coven master, and Evan felt a flush of warmth he couldn’t even try to deny. Alonzo’s next words, though, were like a bucket of ice water being poured straight down Evan’s spine.

“If you do this, then I’ll have no choice but to disavow you. Sever our alliance.”

He gasped. He knew he gasped, the soft, breathy sound of it punching out of him entirely without his permission. No. No, Alonzo couldn’t be suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting. And even if he was, there was no way that Tommy would—

“Exactly,” Tommy said. His voice was still so steady, so sure. As though he was talking about something as minor as changing the paint color in his living room or what he might make for dinner and not…not…

Tommy and his coven master continued speaking, but Evan couldn’t make out the words over the buzzing in his ears. He felt frozen, stopped, his mind swarming with memories and feelings that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to examine in years. The blood pounded in his head, his focus on his magic splintering. No. No, Tommy couldn’t—he wouldn’t…

“Thomas. You’ll be convenless.”

“I’ve been covenless before.”

Covenless. There were a thousand other meanings for that word, and Evan had lived every one for the last five years.

To be covenless was to be nothing. Less than nothing. When Evan had been banished from his coven, he’d lost everything. His home, his family, his familiar. His future. His identity. Everything that made him who he was had been stripped from him, and he’d been left to rebuild himself from fucking scratch…only he’d never be able to. Not really.

To be covenless was to be alone. Completely alone. Unwelcome in every corner of the world you’d thought would be yours forever, unwanted and uncared for. Evan had lost his coven bonds and he’d become a ghost. He’d lost everything when he lost his coven. How could Tommy just give it up?

Why…why would he do something like that for him?

Evan watched in frozen, horrified silence as Tommy did it. Severed himself from his coven. Turned his back on his home, his family, the people he cared for…for Evan. He listened to the oddly formal words—completely devoid of the power that he’d felt when the Pennsylvania high coven handed down his sentence, and yet somehow just as heavy. Just as important. Some part of him tried to remind himself that Tommy had said vampire covens didn’t function the way witch covens did. Vampire covens were alliances, not bonds that were formed in blood and magic…but it didn’t matter. Tommy was giving up his coven. For him.

To protect him. He’d said it. He’d said he wasn’t going to leave Evan to face this storm alone.

It was impossible. It was irrational. It made absolutely no sense. He was watching it with his own eyes, and he didn’t understand. He’d given himself up for Maddie. He’d sacrificed everything he ever was or ever would be to keep her safe, to make sure that she didn’t suffer for what she had to do to set herself free from Doug. He hadn’t set out to lose his coven because of it, he’d just known it was a likely outcome. Had Tommy known he was going to do this when his coven master walked through the door? Had he looked at the situation the way Evan had all those years ago, his sister’s heartwrenching sobs ringing in his ears as they stood over Doug’s still body, and made the same choice Evan had in that moment? How? How?

It had been an easy sacrifice for him to make for Maddie. Losing his coven had been the hardest thing he’d ever experienced or ever would experience, but it had been worth it to save his sister. Keep her safe. Protect her.

But…but he loved Maddie. Loved her more than anything else in the world, loved her more than he loved himself.

What motivation did Tommy have to give up his coven for Evan?

Tommy was still for a long moment after his coven master–fuck, his ex coven master, what had he done?—left the bungalow. Evan listened to the sound of the vampire's car start up, still feeling like he'd been encased in a block of ice. Tommy's shoulders slumped slightly as the sound of the car faded down the driveway, growing more and more distant, and he cracked his neck a couple times before turning to look at Evan.

Evan didn't know what his face looked like, but Tommy's immediately softened. It was almost unbearable to watch…Tommy had just made himself covenless, how could he have room to feel sympathy for Evan?

“Evan, remember. Coven bonds aren’t like what you’re used to for us. This isn’t…it doesn’t hurt me,” he said, and his voice was so, so gentle.

As if Evan was the one who needed to be handled carefully, as though Evan was the one hurting. Because he was hurting. Evan knew that without a doubt, knew it the same way he’d known that Tommy wouldn’t let his coven master hurt him—it was a quiet certainty, a solid as stone beneath his feet. He felt suddenly sick, too hot and too cold at the same time. His heart pounded in his chest, his magic thrumming through him insistently, and he shook his head.

“Why…” He broke off, suddenly unable to meet Tommy’s eyes, and swallowed hard. “Why did you do that?” he managed to choke out, his voice sounding alien to his own ears.

Tommy tilted his head slightly, a stepped toward him, closing the distance between them until he was right in front of him. “I’m not letting you do this alone,” he said, as though that were an actual reason to leave his coven, to voluntarily give it up.

Evan shook his head again, his head still spinning. “That doesn’t make sense!” he burst out. “Tommy, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”

Infuriatingly, Tommy’s lips twitched into a smile, and he reached up to lay his hand on Evan’s shoulder. There was no heat from the touch, of course, and yet Evan swore he could feel the shape of Tommy’s hand on him like a brand. His magic sparked through him, swirling in his chest like champagne bubbles. “I’ve heard that before, Evan. Hasn’t happened, yet,” he said.

“It’s not worth it,” Evan said.

Losing your coven isn’t worth it, Evan meant.

I’m not worth it, Evan meant.

Tommy’s hand loosened briefly, his fingers twitching like he wanted to move them. For a few heartbeats, Evan had the bizarre sense that Tommy was restraining himself from reaching up, brushing the skin of Evan’s throat, skating his fingers higher and higher to touch Evan’s face. Even more bizarre was the pulse of disappointment when Tommy merely patted his shoulder and stepped back, a strange expression twisting his features.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” the vampire said. “Now…are you ready to start this snipe hunt?”

“How worried do we have to be about one of those locator spells?” Tommy asked as he guided the SUV onto the highway, heading for the address that his friend Chimney had provided.

Evan blinked, startled out of thoughts that would not stop racing in circles no matter how hard he tried. He was glad for the new topic to focus on, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the window. “Depends. If your, uh, if Alonzo lets the high coven have some of your stuff when he talks to them, it could be a problem. If it’s something you’re really attached to.” He opened his eyes and shot Tommy a sidelong glance. “Do you have a lot of things at your coven house?” he asked quietly.

Tommy chuckled, not taking his eyes off the road. It was hard to get a read on his expression, but he didn’t seem especially upset. “Some. Not as much as you might think someone could collect over eight hundred years. I’ve never really cared about things. Most of what I really give a shit about, I keep at the bungalow. But I can text Sal and Lucy and tell them to hide a few other things at the coven house.”

Evan nodded to himself. “We should have a day or two before it even becomes an issue—and they might not think it’s worth it. It’d be hard to hold a locator spell on a vampire. Most of our really complicated magic doesn’t work so great on you.”

Tommy made a curious hum. “Why’s that?”

Evan shrugged. “No one really knows. Probably for the same reason that you can’t turn witches.” He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I can cast a charm that’ll let me know if someone’s trying to spell you,” he offered after a moment. “And disrupt it.”

“Will it be a drain on you? I’d rather you save your strength for when we run into trouble.”

“A disruption? Yeah, that’d be hard for me to keep up for very long…but the alert charm is simple. Sa—someone taught it to me when I was a kid, to help me channel my intentions in a spell. Those kinds of things, losing my coven bond doesn’t really, uh, doesn’t really affect me that much,” he finished quietly. “But it’s still a spell. I, I, I get it if you don’t want me casting anything on you.”

Tommy was silent for a long moment, before he said quietly, “I trust you, Evan. Do I need to pull over?”

“Wait, not? You want me to cast it now?” Evan blinked, the calm certainty in Tommy’s voice when he said he trusted him catching him off-guard. Tommy shrugged one shoulder.

“Might as well. I don’t want to risk getting distracted later—and any advantage we can get is worth taking.”

“Um, okay. Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Uh, no, it—you won’t feel anything. Maybe like, a tingle? But it won’t hurt or anything. I can do it while you’re driving.” He pressed his lips together, considering. “Can I have your hand?”

Tommy startled a little at that, shooting him a quick, bemused look. “Sure?” he said, stretching one hand out toward Evan.

Evan took it, cradling it in his palms and resting two fingers on where Tommy’s pulsepoint should be in his wrist. It was odd not to feel the beat of life underneath his fingers, to trace skin that was oddly cool, blue veins standing out more starkly than he was used to. He leaned over Tommy’s hand and started chanting, his magic all but leaping to his fingertips as he murmured the familiar spell. Tommy kept his eyes on the road, but Evan could sense him shooting quick little looks his way, even as he held his hand trustingly still.

It was strangely intimate. The thought skipped through Evan’s head and was gone as he felt the spell building, his hands beginning to glow with the white light of a witch’s power. He breathed out the last words of the spell and pressed the magic gently into the skin of Tommy’s wrist, a sigil glowing briefly before fading to near invisibility. Tommy shivered as the sigil sunk in, his fingers flexing, but he held still until the light of Evan’s magic faded. Moving slowly—almost reluctantly?—he slipped his hand from Evan’s grasp and looked at the inside of his wrist, his eyebrow twitching upwards minutely.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“That’s it,” Evan confirmed, settling back in his seat and going back to staring out the window. “If anyone tries to cast on you, I’ll know.”

“Thank you, Evan,” Tommy said.

Evan nodded silently, watching the LA scenery fly past the window as Tommy sped towards Greenway’s house. He felt like his brain was spinning as fast as the tires, too much happening for him to really get a grasp on it. He needed to. He couldn’t afford to be spiraling with them potentially heading into a hostile situation. Everything—his confusion and disbelief and, yes, all right, his guilt over Tommy giving up his coven, his worry about what they were walking into, his fear for what could happen in this city if they failed, he had to let it all go. He could almost hear Sally’s voice in his head, chidingly reminding him that he needed to stay focused.

Find an anchor, little love. A single thing to concentrate on and hold onto that, no matter what.

Good advice…but advice he’d struggled to take all his life. He looked over at Tommy again, taking in his profile as he tried to read his stoic expression, tried to figure out what might be running through the vampire’s head. Tommy said he trusted him. After knowing him only a couple of days, Tommy was willing to take risks for him that he wouldn’t have asked of anyone in his coven except maybe Maddie. Had made sacrifices for him that Evan knew down to the marrow of his bones his own parents would never have made. Tommy said he trusted him.

Evan breathed out slowly, his magic ebbing through him in time to his heartbeat. In the face of everything, he let the simple truth that had been trying to form in his mind since Tommy had given up his place in his coven to protect Evan wash over him. He trusted Tommy, too. And that was what he was going to hold onto, no matter what.

Jonah Greenway had lived on a surprisingly quiet street in a small, nondescript house that was neither especially nice nor especially run-down. Tommy took a couple of laps around the block in the SUV, trying to scout if there was anybody already there. Evan had been slightly worried that the place would already have been under a police investigation, but credit where credit was due—the SoCal high coven was very good at keeping their world secret.

“Looks clear,” Tommy muttered after the third lap around the block. They’d stopped a few intersections and pulled into and reversed out of a couple of driveways to hopefully make it look as though they were just lost to any nosy neighbors who might notice a large SUV with heavily tinted windows. He pulled to a stop about a block down the street from Greenway’s house.

“Wait—how are we getting you in there?” Evan asked, tipping his head towards the window…and the sun-drenched street outside it. It would have been easier to wait ‘til at least dusk to leave the bungalow, but the need to give Grant and her coven enough time to do their own investigations created a sense of urgency that would not be ignored.

“I can take sunlight for a few minutes,” Tommy said, frowning distastefully and twisting in his seat to dis around in the floor behind him. He sat up a moment later with a large black hoodie and pulled a pair of gloves out of one of the pockets. “Although no offense, I’m gonna walk a hell of a lot faster than you.”

“Dressed like the villain in an after-school special?” Evan asked dubiously, his eyebrow climbing when Tommy pulled his sun visor down and grabbed a large pair of sunglasses clipped to the edge. “Really?”

“If you have a better suggestion, I’d love to avoid the third-degree sunburn I’m about to get.”

Evan debated a moment, drumming his fingers on his thigh and poking at the edges of his magic, feeling out the strength. Then he turned in his own seat, staring hard out the back windshield at the corner of Greenway’s house that was visible. There was a decently-sized porch with a roof, and Evan knew any witch worth his salt would have had look-away charms on his house, though they might have lost power when Greenway died. Still, if that was the case, then any hexes or traps he’d laid on the property would also be defunct, and Tommy would be able to break into the place quickly. Evan felt confident he could handle any hexes that were still active, and short out an alarm system fast enough that it would register as a glitch.

“Try not to move, okay?” he said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s wrist as he focused on the corner of the porch he could see, and chanted the spell.

His ears popped, the whole world going quiet and shadowy, sound muffling almost to the point that he was enveloped in silence. The air around him turned absolutely freezing, colder than any Pennsylvania winter, and as the spell ended he couldn’t help coughing. Beside him, he heard Tommy gasp something in a language he didn’t recognize—though by the tone, he could tell it wasn’t polite—and the vampire scrambled to his feet, his wrist twisting under Evan’s to grab at his hand and yank him to his feet as well.

They were standing on Greenway’s porch, well-shaded from the afternoon sunlight.

“What the hell?! What did you do?” Tommy demanded, looking around him in shock. “That wasn’t the same thing you did at the office!”

Evan laughed shortly, pulling away so he could examine the door in front of them. The fact that no defense spells had triggered when they appeared on the porch was encouraging, but he wasn’t going to just take it on faith that Greenway didn’t have something more powerful than simple charms and hexes waiting. “No—a teleport is major magic even when you have a coven bond. I’m not risking that unless there’s no other choice. I took us through the between.” He reached out and let his hand hover over the doorknob, unable to feel the telltale tingle of magic against his skin.

“The…wasn’t that where Greenway hid the flash drive?”

“Yup.”

“And you can…go…there?” Tommy continued slowly.

“If you know how. Most of us just use it like Greenway did. Like a hiding place. Kind of a magical safe-deposit box? But the between is as big or small as you know it is, and it exists wherever you know it will. So, if you know it’s big enough to fit you, and you know it exists where you want to be, you can get to it.”

“That—okay, that actually makes a weird sort of sense and explains a couple of encounters I’ve had over the years. I haven’t met any witch who could do something like that in a century or two, though.”

Evan shrugged, still examining the door. “Not a lot of us can, anymore. It’s old magic. Like, old-fashioned magic, not, uh, not old as in ancient. It’s easy to get lost in, so it’s not like it’s in the normal, everyday lessons. Sally only taught me because—” He broke off, his brain catching up with the amount of private information his mouth was just casually giving away.

Tommy was silent for a moment. “Sally was your familiar?” he asked gently.

Evan clenched his jaw, before nodding quickly. “I don’t think there’s any kind of spell on the door,” he said. Thankfully, Tommy accepted the abrupt subject change, stepping around Evan to grip the doorknob and give the door a fast, almost casual shove with his shoulder. The deadbolt snapped in an instant, and Tommy stepped back to interpose himself between Evan and anything that might be waiting for them inside.

Only silence greeted them, however.

Tommy cocked his head, listening intently, before his shoulders relaxed. “It’s empty,” he said. “But stay close.” He stepped inside the darkened interior of Greenway’s house. Evan took a deep breath and followed, his eyes roving over his surroundings curiously.

The house was surprisingly…sterile. It had all the trappings of a home—comfortable furniture, plush carpets on the floors, bookshelves full of books and mementos, art hanging on the walls. Yet, the place felt cold to Evan. There was none of the warmth and character of Tommy’s bungalow. The place felt like a showroom or a magazine cover. Everything perfectly chosen and placed to present a picture that it just…wasn’t.

It felt, he reflected wryly, like the house he had grown up in.

“Howie and Grant already searched the place for anything useful, but the high coven hasn’t gotten here yet. We need them to think we’re looking for something, get them to waste resources trying to find it first. Toss the place?” Tommy asked, glancing back at Evan with a questioning look. Evan shrugged, turning a slow circle in the large, open-plan living space that took up most of the first floor. Something felt…off.

“They really didn’t find anything?” he asked, his eyes darting around the room.

“Nada,” Tommy confirmed, watching as Evan looked all around him. “Why? What are you thinking?”

“Nothing, I just…there’s something…” he trailed off, the frustratingly feeling of something just out of his reach dancing at the edge of his senses. His eyes fell on a mirror propped up in the corner of a set of recessed bookshelves that had been built into the walls on either side of a large picture window in what Greenway had set up as his living room. Directly in front of the window was a large, ornate wooden writing desk. Evan tilted his head and followed the line of where the mirror was facing…to another mirror mounted on the wall by the stairs to the second story. The mirror was positioned oddly, slightly off-center of where Evan would expect it to be, just enough to look a little wonky. In fact, if he stood in front of that mirror and followed the line of where it was facing, he would find…

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Evan muttered.

“What?” Tommy demanded immediately.

In answer, Evan spun another slow circle in the center of the room, tracing the sightlines of multiple mirrors positioned all around the room. That was what he was feeling. He hadn’t quite shaken the chill of the between from his senses, after all…and there was quite a lot of the between in this room.

“He hid something else here,” Evan said, finding the mirror that was positioned in the northernmost part of the room and pacing away from it until he was as close to the center of where the sight lines of all five of the mirrors around the living space met as he could get. “Fucking smart bastard, I’ll give him that.”

“Evan, what are you talking about? I’m pretty sure Howie and Grant would have known to look in this between place.”

“Yeah, but they might not have realized how big the between is here,” Evan countered. “Like I said…it’s not something a lot of witches learn anymore.”

Tommy tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked curious, though, not dismissive. “You keep talking like the size of it can change. Isn’t space…you know, space? Like there have to be boundaries.”

“Ever been in one of those house of mirrors they do at fairs and theme parks?” Evan asked, centering himself and focusing hard. He murmured the appropriate spell and reached toward the desk, the way he had in the office building to find the flash drive. The way he’d—sort of, it was a little more complicated than he’d explained to Tommy—done to get them from the car to the porch to avoid the sunlight. Only this time, he reached further into the between. Through all the layers of it that Greenway had folded it upon itself, over and over, until only a witch or familiar who regularly used it to shift themselves through space and not just store and hide things in would have even realized there was that much of it to explore in this house.

Evan did not travel through the between regularly. It was not something that witches did anymore, the dangers of getting lost too great. But he had been very carefully trained by someone who had learned the art in times when it had been a valuable tool for survival.

His hand closed on something in the between, and he curled his fingers around it and yanked. There was a soft pop in the air, and when he looked at the empty desk again, there was a small, leatherbound ledger sitting innocuously in the center of it. “Gotcha,” he hissed. He hurried forward and scooped the ledger off the desk, pulling at the bands of elastic that bound it at each corner.

“Great work Ev—GET DOWN!” Tommy’s voice changed in a flash, rising to a bellow as he lunged at Evan. Between one breath and the next, Tommy had made it across the room and wrapped himself around Evan, pulling Evan tight against his chest and spinning them around so that Tommy’s back was to the window.

There was a loud sound of shattering glass.

The clatter of something hitting the desk.

And then the whole world around Evan exploded into a mass of light. And sound. And force.

Evan felt himself lifted off his feet, flung across the room. Tommy’s body was wrapped tight around him, the vampire’s arms shielding him protectively, his face pressed hard against Tommy’s throat. They hit the floor hard enough that the breath was knocked from Evan’s lungs, but he was still dimly aware of Tommy taking the brunt of the landing, rolling them with the momentum, one hand cradling the back of Evan’s head and keeping it from cracking on the hardwood floors as they came to a rolling halt.

Evan coughed, everything spinning around him in dizzying circles, his ears ringing so loudly he could barely hear anything over it. His whole body hurt, and when he pulled his head back from Tommy’s neck, the room was suddenly hazy with smoke. What…what had—

“Tommy?” he gasped, when the vampire made no move to let go, to get up. “Tommy, what—”

He could hardly hear his own voice, though he knew he was shouting. He gripped Tommy’s shoulder, more relief than he was willing to examine at the moment sweeping through him when he felt the vampire’s muscles bunch under his touch, felt Tommy shudder and start to struggle to get up. Something was wrong, though.

His vampire was moving too slowly, too sluggishly. When Evan blinked some of the hazy smoke out of his eyes, Tommy’s face—mere inches from his own—was twisted in a grimace of pain. Something hard pressed into the top of Evan’s abdomen, right under his breastbone, and he slowly became aware of a hot wetness seeping into his borrowed shirt. Gasping, he wrenched himself backwards enough so he could look down, a buzzing that had nothing to do with his ringing ears filling his head when his eyes focused on the massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that was poking into his chest.

The massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that had impaled Tommy through the back, gone clear through his body.

“Tommy! Tommy, what—”

“Evan…run,” his vampire managed to grit out, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth.

“Aw come on Kinard. Let the witch stay.”

Evan’s heart sank, his eyes flying to the gaping hole where Greenway’s front window had been only seconds before. The blond vampire from the office building was clambering through the jagged opening, flanked by two other vampires that Evan hadn’t seen before. They were covered head to toe in the same getup that Tommy had been going to try to use to get across the sunny street—hoodies, gloves, long pants—but every inch of exposed skin was blistered and peeling, obviously burned by even what short exposure they’d had to the sun.

Blondie pulled his hood back, glaring at Evan and Tommy, a nasty smirk firmly in place on his face. Evan’s eyes flicked between the three of them as Tommy tried to push at his shoulder, still struggling to get his feet under him, even as more blood spurted out from around the piece of fucking shrapnel sprouting out of his chest.

Tommy was hurt. Badly.

The vampire who had protected him over and over, even when it made no logical sense for him to do so. The vampire who had been kinder and gentler to him over the past two days than any one of his own kind had been over the past five years. His vampire, who had refused to let Evan walk into danger alone.

His vampire, who had given up his own coven to stay by Evan’s side, against odds that would have sent any sane person running for the hills. His vampire.

Evan curled his arm protectively over Tommy’s back and reached for every drop of magic in his body, the most dangerous spell Sally had ever taught him fairly exploding out of him in a rush of power.

#911 abc #911 tv show #mywriting #bucktommy #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #buck x tommy #tommy kinard #shameless self promotion #kinley #firepilot #firebeast #tevan #tevan fic #bucktommy fic

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ssinnerplazahotel · 4 months ago

Text

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*Chapter Eight*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 8k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Elvis had tried to live up to his promise of making things right. You wouldn’t say he was successful, and you wouldn’t say it was any fault of his own. You weren’t sure if things could be made right again. You tried to put the past in the past. You tried not to think about the way he’d grabbed you and pinned you to his bed. You tried to forget about how frightened you were then. You didn’t want to remember.

It wasn’t the first time you were afraid of him. You told yourself that if you could get over it before, you could get over it again.

You tried. You really did. A part of your mind that had been made up since your conversation with Andrea—the other part lingered between made up and naïve by choice. You wanted to be naïve, it didn’t hurt as much to believe that he loved you.

“I see you watching him,” Cynthia spoke suddenly as you stood in the kitchen awaiting her instruction. Her eyes stayed focused on the dishes she was hand washing, only glancing up to be sure you heard her.

“Ma’am?” You asked in shock, trying to weed through the nonsense clouding your mind for a reasonable response. It was hard when you could feel Elvis’ eyes burning a hole in your back.

“Don’t put on an act for me.” She laughed. “He’s talked to me about you.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” You chose your words carefully.

“He asked me about you when you first started working around the house.” She started to hand you dishes to dry and you quickly found the drying cloth. “He started wanting his tray earlier in the night because he would be busy later. Busy doin what I had no idea. But I caught on eventually when I saw the way he looked at you.”

“How did he look at me?” You asked, keeping your expression neutral.

“He tried not to, he mostly didn’t.” The two of you were getting a rhythm of washing and drying going by then. “But when he did his eyes just stuck to you. He’d play it off for a minute or two then he'd go chasing after you. I only said anything when I noticed Dawn was getting suspicious. I knew if she found out it wouldn’t do either of you any good. When I asked him if there was anything going on, he told me the truth.”

You had no reason to doubt that Cynthia was telling the truth, but you still hesitated to respond to her.

“Who do you think’s been keeping Dawn from barging upstairs and finding the two of you?” She asked. “If I didn’t steer her away she would’ve caught you together by now.”

“Dawn knows more that she lets on,” You said quietly. “Why are you only telling me this now?”

“I’ve been trying to find time to talk, you’re so stuck to Dawn during the day,” Cynthia said. “I saw the look you got on your face when you came downstairs. I don’t know what happened but you’re both wearing it on your sleeves. Staring at each other like a couple in a fight.”

“What else did he say about me?” You asked indulgently.

“He said enough to convince me.”

You started to complain about the vagueness of her comment but Dawn appeared in the kitchen before you could say anything.

“You got an earlier start than I expected,” She said, poking fun at your out of whack sleep schedule.

“I wasn’t tired enough to sleep in,” You lied, having been up late with Elvis the night before.

You did your best to take Cynthia’s advice for the rest of the day. You were still shocked to find out about her knowledge of you and Elvis’ relationship. Whatever that relationship was supposed to be…

You almost didn’t believe her but she knew too much to be lying.

You went through the day completely ignoring him. He caught on halfway through and began to ignore you too. It didn’t affect you much—you were used to being ignored and overlooked by him.

“You in here, baby?”

“Can’t you knock sometimes?”

Elvis laughed as he let the door of your room swing shut behind him. You didn’t turn away from where you stood in the mirror wrapping your hair for the night.

“What?” You asked when he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side.

“I came to talk to you about something, but suddenly I don’t have the words,” He said. “Who gave you the right to be so pretty?”

“Stop it,” You said, adjusting your scarf on your head. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“I think it's coming back to me.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. You squirmed against him as he kissed your neck.

“Elvis,” You complained, he held your body firmly against his. “Tell me what it is.”

“You tell me what it is.”

“What?”

“Were you ignoring me today?” His lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine.

“…No.”

“Alright.” He kissed your shoulder and met your eyes in your reflection. You relaxed and wrapped your own arms around his as he hugged your torso. “I came to tell you that we’re gonna send you, Dawn, and Cinee back to Memphis while we finish up here. We’re gonna be traveling for reshoots and press for another two weeks but we’ll be back after that.”

“Okay,” You said. “When are we leaving?”

“Day after tomorrow probably,” He responded. “You’re not upset?”

“No.” You had a feeling that he’d hoped you would be. “It’s only two weeks.”

He hummed in response, his eyes leaving yours.

“What?” You asked.

“You’ll be there, right?” He asked, meeting your eyes again. “When I get back?”

“At Graceland?”

“Yeah, at Graceland.”

You realized then why he had looked worried so suddenly. He was afraid you’d leave while you were separated. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind, now you couldn’t help but recognize the opportunity.

Elvis loved to plant thoughts in your mind. He’d carefully craft your every thought if he could, and you weren’t sure if you’d stop him. You were afraid you wouldn’t have the power to fight it if he tried. He’d plant his seed and you’d let him rain all over you, unsure of what would prosper that day or the next.

‘How do you want me?’ He’d expect you to ask. ‘That’s how I’ll be.’

If you let him plant his seeds of thought inside your brain you wouldn’t have to think about anything. You wouldn’t have to be curious, you wouldn’t have to put anything into action. You could live peacefully in your delusion.

You thought, maybe, that was the easiest route to take. You were already losing your will, why not let him hold all the cards? Why not let him take advantage of your love? He already knew that as long as your love for him lived he’d have his way with you.

As far as you could tell your love would always live, so it wouldn’t matter if you shut your mind down. It wouldn’t matter if he told you what to do.

You wanted him to.

You wanted him to silence your curiosity and cage up your free will—you were too mentally exhausted to have it any other way.

You wouldn’t blame him. You would blame yourself. You would blame your love.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked as the silence grew suspicious. You smiled reassuringly for him, hoping that it looked genuine. Your mind continued to race despite how desperately you tried to quiet your thoughts.

Silence my curiosity.

“I’m just making sure.” He returned your smile. “I don’t want my baby birdie gettin any ideas about flyin away.”

Cage up my free will.

“I wouldn’t.” You turned around in his arms to face him. “I’ll be there.”

How do you want me?

“I believe you.” He ducked his head to kiss you, making you tilt your head to meet his lips.

That’s how I’ll be.

You still felt so swept away by his touch, so outside of yourself. It worsened the emotional turmoil you felt inside, yet it spurred you on and made you crave him.

“Tell me you love me,” He demanded softly.

“You know I do.” You were like a fiend and he was your vice. The sober days hurt, but those high nights almost made you forget the pain. Almost.

“I want to hear you say it,” He insisted between kisses.

“I love you,” You said. “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”

He deepened the kiss, pushing you up onto the edge of the sink.

“I’m gonna get wet,” You complained as the hem of your nightie went into the damp sink.

“That’s the idea,” Elvis uttered cleverly as his hands traveled up your thighs and under the nightie.

You were convinced you were a lunatic—or at the very least mentally unwell. You had to be, it was the only plausible explanation. There you were plotting your escape, contemplating laying down your life, and pawing at him wantonly all within the span of a few minutes—telling him you loved him and letting him take you to bed.

“You didn’t lock it.” Your breath hitched as he teased you through your underwear. “T-The door.”

Even in your aroused state you knew you hadn’t heard him lock the door when he walked in. The click of the lock being engaged was a sound that you were used to listening for.

“You’re right,” He said, his warm breath mingling with yours. He made no move to go and lock the door, instead he hooked his fingers under the band of your panties and pulled them down your legs.

“Elvis,” You said in alarm. “Y-You can’t~”

You were cut off abruptly when he suddenly pushed his middle finger deep inside of you. You gripped his shoulder for dear life.

“I can't what?” Elvis asked, circling your clit with his thumb. “I can’t fuck you with the door unlocked?”

You shuddered, leaning back against the mirror behind you. You tried to respond but your words were caught in your throat.

“Can you see the door?” He asked, wrapping his free arm around you and sitting you up. You cried out as his finger entered you from a different angle. “Can you see the door, baby?”

“Yes.” You looked over his shoulder at the door, the lock was unturned.

“You keep your eyes on the door.”

“Please, lock it.”

“No.” He smiled, amused by your unease. “Be a good girl and keep watch, will you?”

Your heart hammered wildly against your chest as he sunk down between your thighs, pushing the hem of your nightie up out of the way. You practically flinched when he touched you again. You swore and gripped the edge of the sink, tears of pleasure already threatening to well in your eyes.

You watched the door with a feeling of anxiety that mingled too well with the pleasure you felt as his tongue sent you to heaven. You watched and waited for the knob of the door to turn, for someone—Dawn, or Cynthia, one of the guys needing you to clean up a mess they made—to walk in and find Elvis’ head buried between your legs.

As you anticipated your release you wondered what you’d do if someone walked in. Would you push him away? Or would you pull him in? Too far gone and so close to reaching your high that you could almost taste it? The thought made your back arch as Elvis latched onto your clit and he stroked you within an inch of your life.

The dam broke and suddenly you couldn’t see the door, or anything for that matter. Your eyes rolled and your thighs tried desperately to shut around his head as your orgasm completely wracked your body.

You cried and he continued his assault even as you trembled against him. You felt like you were floating when he finally pulled away, standing between your legs and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your eyes started to focus again as he unbuckled his pants. Your mind was everywhere but the door as he freed his cock and ran it through your remaining arousal. You expected him to push inside but he didn’t. Instead, he used your slick to coat his aching erection before getting himself off. His movements were erratic and quick, his eyes never leaving your face.

He swore tensely when you gripped his hair in one hand and wrapped your legs more tightly around him. He grunted as he came, pumping himself through every pulse of his release. You stayed like that for a while, holding him while he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“Elvis,” You forced yourself to say, your voice shallow and breathless. “Lock it…please.”

“Yeah,” He responded, kissing your neck before pulling away. He took the towel you had used to dry your face earlier and wiped himself clean. He handed it to you and left the bathroom.

You clambered down from the sink, turning and leaning against it. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment before looking away, avoiding your reflection. You didn’t recognize yourself. You didn’t know who you were.

You’re my girl, that’s who you are.

“You okay?” Elvis asked, reappearing behind you. He wrapped his arms around you and tried to meet your eyes in the mirror.

“I need a second,” You said, reaching out and turning the faucet on without looking up at him.

“Don’t take too long,” He said, kissing your shoulder before leaving you alone in the bathroom.

You stood on shaky legs as you cleaned yourself up. You took a few minutes to try and collect your thoughts but it turned out to be more difficult than you expected. You weren’t sure what you were thinking.

On one hand, you contemplated the possibility of leaving Graceland when you returned to Memphis—you tried to make sense of the outrageous idea. Yet somehow you wanted nothing more than to join Elvis in your bed and talk the night away, like two teenagers with their itches freshly scratched.

You left the bathroom with a hint of apprehension behind your steps. Elvis stood at your dresser absentmindedly smelling the assortment of perfumes that you’d accumulated.

There was one you’d gotten when you first came to Memphis. Two Barb and Pat had insisted you get from a booth downtown during one of your many excursions. And another that Andrea had gifted you before she left. To remind you of her.

She’d be ashamed of you if she saw you now.

“It’s too much all at once, isn’t it?” You asked, getting his attention. “Cabochard.”

He shrugged, putting the top back on the bottle. “I like it. It’s unique.”

You nodded indifferently. “I have to do my homework.”

“I’ll sit with you until you finish.”

“Won’t you bore to death?”

You caught a whiff of your perfume when you each got onto your bed—floral and sandalwood. You smiled at the mental image of him spraying himself with it.

“I like watching you work,” He said as you grabbed your textbook from the nightstand and opened it. “You’re sexy when you’re focused.”

You laughed. “As long as you’re entertained.”

He sat there patiently for a change as you did your homework. You were waiting for a bored sigh or an annoyed breath, but instead he sat there silently patting his foot to the song stuck in his head. You almost found it harder to concentrate while waiting for him to break.

He didn’t.

By the time you finished he had laid his head on your shoulder and started to doze. You sighed in relief as you shut your textbook and dated your packet for it to get sent off.

A smile graced your lips for a moment as you brought your hand up and drummed your fingers under Elvis’ chin. You quietly kissed your lips at him until he stirred and you motioned for him to lay against your pillows.

“E, you’re asleep,” You said when he hesitated.

“Where are you goin?”

“Nowhere. I’m right here.”

You put your textbook back on the bedside table and adjusted yourself so that you laid next to him on your back. He wrapped his arm around your torso and held onto you even in his sleep, never once letting go.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You tried to tell him but he never seemed reassured by your words.

He’d wake you up in the morning before he left to give you a full rundown of his day. Making sure to tell you if he thought the two of you could spend time together that night. You didn’t understand why he did it. But you figured it was his way of showing that he was making an effort to spend time with you.

“I’ll come to you,” He’d say, kissing your forehead before standing to leave. “Go back to sleep.”

You’d wave as he left, with no hope of returning to sleep. You’d stare at the ceiling until the next two hours rolled by and you were forced to face the day.

It was your last night in Hawaii and just in time before you left you got a letter from Andrea. The mailing process had gotten a bit backed up but she did write you back, which made you happy.

You smiled as you laid back in your bed reading the letter.

Hi, love, It said. I’ve been dying to hear from you! I feel like so much time has gone by but really it hasn’t. I’m glad Dawn and Mama are doing okay but that’s not what I want to know. How are you? Are you taking care of yourself? More importantly, have you found yourself a real man? Please tell me you got back in touch with Kai. I didn’t forget about him, there’s no way I could. I told you once and I’ll tell you again, you don’t deserve to be kept a secret—choose yourself! I hope you realize that soon if you haven’t by the time you get this. My hand would fall off if I tried to write some sense into you so I’m going to leave it at that. You have to come by the house when you’re back in Memphis. Charles says he’d love to meet you. I told him you’re like the little sister I never had, so technically you’re like the sister-in-law he never had. I wish I had something interesting to tell you but my life is pretty much on the straight and narrow again—

“What’re you reading?”

You jumped at the sound of Elvis’ voice and clutched the paper to your chest. He laughed as he locked the door. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Oh, I just did,” He said, stalking over to you. “Somebody sent you a letter?”

“No. I-I mean, yes. It’s from Andrea.”

“Why’re you hiding it like that?” He asked with an amused expression.

“What do you mean?” You sat up and took the letter from your chest before folding it in your lap.

He narrowed his eyes at you, waiting less than a second before reaching out and snatching the letter before you.

“No, Elvis!” You exclaimed, trying not to shout as you stood up on your knees reaching for the letter. “It’s private.”

“What could she be saying?” He laughed, unfolding it and skimming the words.

You sat back on your heels as his expression changed. You fidgeted anxiously, waiting for his reaction.

“What is this?” He asked, looking at you now. He looked more confused than upset but you could already see the anger forming on his face. “You told her about us?”

“No,” You said quickly. “I told her some things but she had no idea I was talking about you.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asked. “She’d sell this in a heartbeat if she knew.”

“Oh, and you don't think Cynthia would sell this story?” You narrowed your eyes. “It’s not fair that you have her to talk to and I have no one.”

“So you pick her prying ass daughter? What do you need to talk to anyone about anyway?”

“What do you talk to Cynthia about?”

“Shit, I don’t know~ What to tell Dawn to keep her off us?”

You crossed your arms. “Andrea’s my friend, I trust her. And I made sure she didn’t know it was you.”

“And how’d you do that?”

“As far as she’s concerned I’m having an affair with some married man and nobody knows.” You shrugged but you were sure you weren’t coming off as unbothered as you meant to. “I told her that if anyone ever found out about it, his poor wife would leave him.”

“You told her that horrible story?” He asked after falling silent for a moment. A trace of a smile reappeared on his face and you felt yourself relax a bit. “You’re more creative than that, aren’t you, honey?”

“I also told her how much I loved him, and how nice he can be sometimes,” You said, trying to make him forget that he was mad at you.

“Sometimes?” He laughed. “You know what? Sometimes you get me so mad I could just crack your jaw. You shoulda told her that.”

“Don’t say that.” You looked down, only looking up when he handed the letter back. “I don’t know why you hate her so much.”

“I hate anything that tries to take you away from me.” He took the bottom of your face in his hand and made you look up.

“It’s my last night,” You said, your voice low and pleading. “Can’t we be nice to each other?”

“I’m not gonna pretend to like her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“You need to find new friends,” He said. “Friends your own age.”

“Friends my age?” You asked incredulously, pushing his hand away from your face. “That’s funny coming from you.”

“Older friends aren’t good for you,” He said, taking your face in both hands despite your protests. He stepped closer, tilting your head back so you still looked at him as you sat against your heels. “They make you forget you’re just a little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl.” You huffed in frustration. “If you think that, Elvis, you really don’t see me.”

“I do,” He said. “I see you better than you see yourself. That’s why you ought to listen to me.”

“All I do is listen to you.”

“If that was the case you wouldn’t be so damn bad at it.”

You pushed him away and maneuvered off the bed to put the letter in your luggage so that you wouldn’t forget it tomorrow.

“You don’t listen to me,” You said as you tucked the letter away. You faced him from where you stood across the room. “Why should I listen to you?”

“You want me to be nice?” He asked, ignoring your question. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned back against his hands. “I catch you bad mouthing me to your so-called friend~”

“I never bad mouthed you~”

“~and I’m supposed to be nice?” He continued to speak over you. “I don’t think that’s a reasonable thing to expect, birdie. I mean, you told her something bad enough~”

“I can’t help what she said, Elvis, I didn’t write it~”

“~you’ve given her some reason to tell you to leave me, so tell me just what the hell you said.”

You crossed your arms and the two of you fell silent.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, it don’t go well. You’re just gonna piss me off.”

“I didn’t tell her anything bad,” You stressed, your eyes burning with frustrated tears.

“Why are you tryna cry?” He seemed more annoyed at the sight of your watery eyes than concerned.

“Because you’re accusing me of something I didn’t do,” You said as best you could. “I only told her the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?”

“The truth is that…”

He’ll never choose you.

His eyebrow twitched as he waited expectantly for you to continue. “What?”

You shook your head, looking down. “I-I told her that I loved you. Even if it could only be in secret.”

“And she told you to leave me?”

“Yes.”

You looked up when he fell silent, finding his eyes on you already. He didn’t seem convinced.

“And you didn’t have anything to say about that?” He asked.

“I didn’t have anything to say,” You whispered, your eyes trained carefully on him.

He nodded as if he understood but you couldn’t tell by his expression. He reached his hand out and gently patted the spot next to him. “C’mere,” He said, looking at you expectantly. “Sit beside me, baby.”

You hesitated before crossing the room and joining him on the bed.

“I don’t want to have the same argument twice,” He said, putting his arm around you. “Okay?”

“Okay?” You were confused and upset. .

“I don’t want you talking to Andrea about us anymore,” He forced a patient smile as he spoke. “I don’t care what terrible lie you told her. I don’t trust her and I really don’t think she has your best interest at heart.” His smile faded as he continued to speak deliberately, making sure you understood how serious he was.

You started to say something, but he stopped you.

“Come on, birdie, don’t fight me on this,” He said. “I’m tryna protect you. I’m trying to protect us.”

“You’re trying to control me.”

“I don’t want to control you,” He stressed. “Try to understand, darlin. We can’t be too careful about this.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have any friends at all.” You crossed your arms and looked away from him. “Maybe then you’ll be happy.”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” He said, trying to end the conversation. “If you can’t get your shit together I’ll leave and see you back at Graceland in a couple weeks. What do you want? D’you wanna fight or what?”

You remained silent, debating whether or not to send him away. As much as you wanted him to go there was a larger part of you that always wanted him to stay.

“Don’t leave,” You said, your voice small and hardly above a whisper.

“Stop pouting like a baby and I won’t.” He chuckled. “We can be nice to each other.”

“Okay,” You said without meeting his eyes. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

“I’ll wait for you.” He leaned in and kissed your cheek before letting you go. “Hurry up.”

You didn’t respond as you stood and went into the bathroom. You didn’t take long, doing the rest of your routine quickly before rejoining Elvis in the bedroom.

“All better?” He asked as he flipped casually through the notebook you used for school.

“Why’re you going through that?” You asked instead of answering, joining him on the bed.

“I like world history,” He said, letting you take the notebook away. “And the little seashells you draw on the corners of the pages.”

“You should do my homework if you like it so much,” You said, making him laugh. You sat the notebook on the bedside table and made a mental note not to forget it. “Elvis?”

“Oh lord, I know that tone.” He groaned sarcastically. “What now?”

“Nothing.”

“Something. What is it?”

You sat next to him against the headboard of the bed. “I’m worried that I’m only a challenge to you.”

“A challenge?” He sounded confused.

“Why do you want me so badly when you don’t need me?”

“Because I love you,” He said. “And I do need you.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“It doesn’t matter what you think, what matters is what I’m telling you.”

“I think that~”

“Goddamnit, birdie~”

“~I think you’re used to having whatever it is you want,” You said anyway. “And I don’t think you see me any differently.”

“I can’t stop you from thinking that, can I?”

“Don’t you have anything to say about that?”

You wanted to know what he was thinking, what his motives were. He was always in your head, thinking your thoughts before you thought them—as if he could see your motivations more clearly than you could. You wanted to be in his head for a change.

“I love you,” He reiterated. “Why can’t you be happy with that?”

“I am.”

“Okay, good.”

“I need to know more.”

“About what?”

“You.”

He shook his head, his eyes rolling slightly. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I’m telling you exactly what I want from you, E,” You said. “You don’t talk to me about your feelings like you used to. I can’t read you like you read me, I need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” He asked, his voice rising in frustration. “I tell you I love you, is that not enough?”

“Not all the time, no,” You said, growing more frustrated as well. “I need more.”

“Lord, birdie, you’re so damn complex.” He sighed. “C’mere, sit right here.” He grabbed your arm and led you to straddle him.

“I’m not trying to nag you.”

“You’re doin an awful job.”

He laughed but you remained serious.

“I have to know. I can’t make sense of anything if I don’t know how you feel.” You had a feeling that you wouldn’t get a chance to ask these questions again. You worried that you’d get back to Graceland and make your mind up about leaving while you had the chance.

“What’s your question, doll?” His frustration had faded and been replaced with a hint of a smile.

“Why me?”

“Why anyone else?”

You looked away. Your heart swelled, so full of incommunicable love for the man before you. He tapped your chin and your tear glazed eyes met his confident gaze.

“Why anyone else?” He asked again. “When I have my pretty doll. My little baby birdie.”

Your voice was quiet and unsteady when you spoke again, holding back your tears. “I’m so…consumed by you. It scares me. A-And I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“What’s gonna happen when?”

“Ever.”

Elvis thought for a moment. “Well, I can tell you what’s gonna happen right now.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna show you how much I love you.”

You tried to focus on anything but the tears threatening to well in your eyes as you boarded your flight back to Memphis with Dawn. You could still feel Elvis’ goodbye kiss lingering on your lips as the plane got off the ground.

“Why the long face?” Dawn asked as you stared out of the window.

“I’m tired,” You lied partially. “I didn’t get any sleep last night.”

She didn’t respond for a while. “Two weeks won’t kill you.”

You turned your head and met her knowing eyes. You should’ve asked her what she meant. You should’ve tried to deter her somehow but you didn’t have it in you to lie to her. You hardly had it in you to lie to yourself.

“You know.” Of course she did.

“I’ve always known,” She said simply. “I just don’t understand.”

You nodded, swallowing harshly and looking down at your hands to hide the emotions stirring in your eyes. “It happened all at once, I didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s not your fault,” She said, placing a sympathetic hand on your thigh. “You’re just a girl.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not happy with you, but I’m not mad.”

You met her eyes again. “You’re not?”

She shook her head. “I’m not. You just…it has to end.”

“I know,” You sighed. “I’m working on that.”

“Had I known this would happen I would’ve never taken the live-in position,” She continued. “We could’ve kept the house, you could’ve gotten a job somewhere else~”

“I know,” You said again, closing your eyes as your throat constricted with emotion. “I didn’t think this would happen. You have to know that.”

Dawn shushed you before you succumbed entirely to your emotions. “It happened, and we can’t change that. Leave it in the past now. Can you do that?”

You wished it was that easy. “I’m trying.”

You knew what you had to do.

Leaving Memphis wouldn’t erase everything that happened, but maybe, you thought, it would be easier for you to let go if you weren’t there. Maybe you would finally have the space to let him go. As much as it turned your stomach, you knew you needed to rediscover yourself. You needed peace.

And that peace came with you leaving Memphis.

Elvis,

If you’re reading this, I’m gone. I promised you that I would be there when you got home. I’m sorry I broke that promise. It’s not because I wanted to. I had to.

You’re the only man I’ve ever loved. You revealed to me parts of myself that I never knew—parts of myself that will never be the same without you. My decision to leave isn’t one I came to easily or because I don’t love you. More than anything I want you to know that.

I made this decision because I was beginning to lose myself in you. I couldn’t find where you ended and I began. I stopped recognizing myself and wanted only to see you. I let you shape and mold me into your girl, your little birdie. That’s all I ever wanted to be. All I wanted was for you to stay. In the good moments and in the bad. I realize now that, in doing that, I lost myself.

Andrea asked me once if I thought you would ever choose me. But, before then, Dawn told me that you never would. I believed her, but it didn’t stop me from wanting you. Now that I’ve had time to think, I’ve realized why she was so insistent. She knew from the beginning that we were headed nowhere fast. We weren’t destined for more than dark rooms and locked doors. We were destined to be hidden, to be kept a secret.

No one will ever know what we shared, how deep our connection truly was—or at least how deep it was for me. I won’t tell anyone. I’m sure you won’t either.

Above all, I hope that you have some good memories of our time together to hold on to. Memories that will make you smile when you think back to them even years from now.

I wish I could express in more words what you mean to me. I know it’s selfish, but I hope you’ll remember me. I love you, more than anything I love you.

Always,

your baby birdie.xxx

You stared down at the blank envelope in your hand, biting the inside of your lip as you contemplated leaving the letter in his room.

Two weeks had flown by and before you knew it Elvis was coming home. He’d be back at Graceland in two days or less. You weren’t as much of a wreck as you expected to be.

You packed up as many clothes as you could into the single suitcase you’d brought with you upon your arrival to Memphis. You filled it with clothes and a few other necessities. You couldn’t take all of your belongings, so you narrowed it down to the things you absolutely needed. You hadn’t told Dawn that you were leaving. You hadn’t planned to either, you knew she’d talk you out of it. Instead you told her that you were going on an overnight trip to Andrea’s. She believed you.

You called Andrea and told her the same story just in case Dawn decided to investigate.

You didn’t want anyone following you or trying to convince you not to leave. You were leaving and that was final.

“I’m glad the two of you decided to stay in touch,” Cynthia said when she saw you carrying your suitcase to the car. “I didn’t think you’d get along so well.”

“Yeah, well.” You chuckled. “She’s a good person.”

All that was left to do now was leave the letter in Elvis’ room.

When you entered his room you were greeted with an influx of memories. Memories of long, sleepless nights. You smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed and running your hand along the duvet.

You would miss this room.

You would miss the chill in the air and the dim lights. You’d miss Elvis’ scent and the way it invaded your senses. You wished you could kiss him one last time. You wished he could hold you through one more night. You knew nothing would make up for the emptiness you’d feel after you were gone. He took up so much of your life, you were bound to be left aimless and lost without him. But you knew it was the only way.

The longer you stayed there in his room the more guilt you felt about leaving the way you were.

You loved him too much to go without facing him. You were afraid that if you faced him before leaving that he would convince you to stay, but your mind was made up.

As afraid as you were to face him, you were more afraid of not saying goodbye.

You called Andrea when you got back to your room, keeping your letter so that you could deliver it yourself in person. You told her that you would come the night after tomorrow instead of tomorrow night. She sounded so excited to see you. Your guilt intensified.

You’d probably never see or hear from her again.

The night came quickly like you had expected it to. Your stomach churned and your palms were clammy. You kept telling yourself that you were ready, that you were prepared for this. But how could you be?

You kept wiping your palms on your jeans as you helped Dawn with a few finishing touches around the house.

“You’re sweating,” She pointed out while the two of you finished putting the dishes away. “You aren’t that anxious are you?”

“To see him? No. The past is in the past.”

“What are you gonna tell him?” Dawn asked. You weren’t used to talking to her about those kinds of things—it made you uncomfortable.

“I’m going to tell him the truth.” You closed the cabinet door, wiping your hands on the seat of your pants again. “He’ll be nice about it. He’s understanding.”

You expected him to be anything but understanding. But the last thing you wanted was for Dawn to have any animosity towards Elvis. You hoped that he wouldn’t punish her for your decision and let her go on working here after you were gone. He had a soft spot for Dawn so you knew he’d be gracious, even if he was angry at you.

“They’re back, and they brought their friends,” Cynthia said entering the kitchen. “I’m gonna get out of here before they get in.”

“I should too, I don’t want to get caught up in that mess,” Dawn said, untying her apron. “Are you still going to Andrea’s?”

“Yes, I’m going to leave in a little while,” You said, your heart hammered in your chest.

“Be careful,” Dawn said. “Don’t forget to call.”

“I won’t.” You hugged her. She tensed, shocked by the embrace, before hugging you back. “I love you, Aunt Dawn.”

“Oh,” She said, patting your back. “Well, I love you too.”

You pulled away, smiling at her before turning to leave the kitchen. “Goodnight, Cynthia.”

“Goodnight.”

The commotion from outside grew louder when the front door opened and everyone started pouring inside. You didn’t look for Elvis when you walked past the crowd of people, instead you ignored them and climbed the stairs to your room. You stopped by to grab the letter from your nightstand, folding it and slipping it into your back pocket before going to wait in Elvis’.

Your nerves grew worse as you sat on his bed anticipating his arrival. You tried to plan out everything you would say. You wanted to be as honest and straightforward as possible. It didn’t matter how many times you went over it in your head, because the second the door opened all the words left you.

You stood as he entered, clasping your hands to hide the way they anxiously trembled.

“There’s my girl.” He smiled. He looked genuinely happy to see you as he shut the door and met you.

“How was the trip?” You asked, tensing slightly under his touch when he slipped his arms around your waist.

“It wasn’t too bad,” He said. “We picked up some people along the way.”

“I saw,” You chuckled nervously. He kissed your temple before pulling away.

“I wanna stay up here with you, birdie, but they want me downstairs,” He said, walking towards his closet. “If you give me an hour out there we can spend the rest of the night together. I promise.”

“Elvis.” You stopped him. “I-I actually want to talk to you about something.”

“Can it wait until later?” He asked. “They were really houndin me about comin back down.”

“No,” You said, walking past him to lock the door. You paused for a moment before facing him again. “It can’t wait.”

He turned to you completely, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m leaving, E.” You swallowed and waited for his reaction.

“Where’re you going?” He asked. You could tell he wasn’t fully grasping what you were saying.

“I-I’m leaving Memphis,” You clarified. “Tonight.”

“Okay?” He narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “But…I can’t stay here.”

He continued to stare at you with a confused expression.

“I-I wanted to t-tell you face to face,” You continued. “I h-had to.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m being perfectly clear.”

He crossed his arms. “You’re leavin Memphis. Tonight?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Why?” He still seemed unconvinced. “Because of something I did or what?”

“It’s not one thing that you did.” Your voice trembled. “It’s-Its multiple. I made this decision for multiple reasons. It’s what’s best for me.”

“Birdie,” He sighed, shaking his head. “We don’t have to do this right now.”

“No, I do~”

“No you don’t,” He said firmly. “I don’t think you understand how irrational and fucking ridiculous you’re being~”

“I’m not being irrational,” You tried to speak over him, raising your voice slightly when he continued arguing. “Can you listen to me for a second?”

“We aren’t doing this right now,” He snapped. “You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think you’re just gonna up and leave town in the middle of the night. It’s not happening!”

“If I don’t do it now I’ll never~” Your voice buckled as the emotions you were warding off grew more intense. You took a breath. “If I don’t do this now I’ll never get the chance. Because I’m leaving tonight regardless of whether or not you listen to me.”

“You aren’t leaving.”

“I am. I was going to leave before you got back but that just didn’t seem fair.”

“Leave and go where?” He was growing more frustrated by the minute. “Where the hell are you gonna go?”

“I-I wanted t-to be able to tell you that I’m not leaving b-because I don’t love you,” You said, trying to swallow your tears. “I’m standing here right now because I do.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes. I do.”

“If you loved me you’d stay.”

You shook your head, taking a step back when he stepped towards you.

“I do love you,” You said. “I love you more than I love myself and that’s not okay. Not anymore.”

He fell silent, walking over to his bed and sitting down on the edge. He crossed his arms and stared at you. His frustration was fading into something else. Something more worried.

His jaw twitched. “W-What, birdie, what d-do you want me to do, huh?”

“I wrote you a letter,” You said, taking the envelope out of your pocket. “It’s just…I wrote it a few days ago, but~”

“I thought we were okay.” He looked off as he spoke now, his gaze distant. “Y-You~ I-I thought you said~”

“I don’t want to leave.” Tears formed in your eyes despite your best efforts. “I have to.”

He looked up at you from where he sat, his sapphire eyes boring into you. He didn’t speak for a long time, but when he did his voice was just over a whisper. “Don’t.”

You shook your head, balling your lips anxiously. The letter shook in your hand as you crossed the room to hand it to him.

“You don’t have to,” He said when you tried to hand it to him. “W-We can go back t-to how we were before~”

“Please take it,” You said. “Promise you’ll read it.”

He grabbed your wrist instead of the envelope, pulling you to stand between his legs. “Let me fix it.”

You looked down into his pleading eyes. “You can’t.”

His arms slipped around your waist. He pressed his forehead against your torso and hugged you.

You sat the letter beside him on the bed. “I have to go.”

“Birdie,” He continued. “I’ll do w-whatever whatever you want.”

You put your arms around him as he hugged you, smoothing the back of his hair in a comforting manner. “I love you.”

“Tell me what to do,” He said, pulling away enough to meet your eyes.

“Let me go,” You said, your voice cracking. The tears welling in your eyes finally fell and you forced yourself out of his grasp. “That’s all you can do.”

“Calm down and talk to me, baby, please?” He begged, holding onto you tighter. “Tell me what to do, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“It’s too late. Things are different now. I-I want to be different.” It was true, you didn’t feel the same as you did. The electricity had faded and the fire had fizzled—leaving you cold and full of quiet resentment that you feared would only fester if you stayed.

“Why can’t we talk?” He asked, his voice still small and desperate.

“Because you don’t listen when I talk.” You stumbled back as he stood, his hands gripping the top of your arms. “Y-You can’t convince me to stay. My mind’s already made up.”

“Who put you up to this?” He asked, disregarding what you were saying. “Andrea?”

“No.” You groaned, attempting to push his hands away. “I put myself up to it. Because I can think for myself and I know that I don’t want this anymore.”

“D’you want my attention? Do you want me to beg you to stay? You’re just a little girl, birdie, you don’t know what you want.”

“I don’t want this. We can’t even have a decent conversation anymore. You’ve hurt me time and time again, and you never seem sorry.”

“If you want me to be different, I can be different. I can’t change what’s already happened.”

“You’ll never change. I know you won’t, that’s why I have to leave.”

“You aren’t even giving me a chance.”

“I’ve given you chances.” You put your hands out when he stepped towards you, pressing them against his stomach. “I’ve given you chance after chance and you always disappoint me.”

“How have I disappointed you?” He asked.

You fell silent, it was hard to remember any specific occasion while your mind was racing like it was. You couldn’t think straight.

“You can’t even tell me?” He asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” You said, looking up at him again. “You can’t change my mind.”

“Where are you gonna go?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Andrea’s?”

“No.”

Silence fell over the room and neither of you spoke for a while. He finally said something when you tried to walk out of his embrace.

“L-Let me try,” He said as you pried his hands off of you. “Let me t-try to be better.”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do? You want me to beg you? Look, I’m begging you~”

“I’m sorry, E, I just can’t.”

Your broken heart crumbled further when he spoke your name, his tone pleading and desperate. You could count on one hand the number of times he’d called you by your name. Hearing his desperate voice saying it now made your legs feel weak beneath you. “Baby, you don’t have to do this. I-I mean what a-about Dawn~”

“She doesn’t need me.”

“…I need you.”

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek before you pulled away completely. You didn’t wait another second before rushing out of the room. You dried your tears uselessly as you shut the door behind yourself and walked away.

You stalled in the hall for a moment, looking over your shoulder as if he’d come racing after you at any moment. You waited for his door to open, you waited for him to continue begging you to stay.

When he didn’t, you took that first step—the hardest step—and walked away.

You dried your tears as best you could, trying to put on a brave face before going downstairs. You left Graceland that night without looking back. Tears clung to your lashes and spilt down your face, but you never once looked back.

You felt like you were leaving a part of yourself behind as you drove aimlessly—taking the first exit you saw to the nearest train station.

You thought about Dawn and how she would react upon discovering that you left and weren’t coming back. You would call her and explain everything when you got the chance. You knew she’d be worried.

You told yourself that you were making the right decision, that you were choosing yourself. And, even though it didn’t make you any less afraid, you were proud.

A/n:

Thank you so much for the kind words and encouragement, this is my first elvis fic and you all have been so kind and supportive <3

~a sinner

ps.i promise this isn’t the end for birdie and e <3

#elvis presley #elvis x you #elvis imagine #elvis fluff #elvis smut #black reader #elvis presely smut #elvis x black reader #austin butler #austin!elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine

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