#and that angst thought immediately getting snuffed out

[heybiji]

[lila-lou]

✨Obsessed - Pt. 1✨

Summary: After weeks of searching, you finally found Dean. However, he was no longer the man you had been in love with- but more importantly, no longer the man who never returned your love. Because now, in his twisted state, he was somehow obsessed with you.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation, naive reader

Word Count: 6960

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You were trembling, afraid of what awaited you behind that stupid motel door. You had been looking for him for over four weeks now and finally found him. Sam was on another trace, but you would call him as soon as you were sure it really was Dean. With a deep breath, you pushed the door open, hearing the shower running in the bathroom.

The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the outside world. The faint smell of old cigarettes and cheap whiskey lingered in the air, mixing with the steam escaping from the bathroom. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the countless fears and hopes you’d carried during your search.

You took a cautious step inside, the creaky floorboards betraying your presence. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light cutting through the darkness. You could hear the water hitting the tiles and a familiar, gravelly hum. It was unmistakable.

“Dean?”, you called out, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid to break the fragile reality you were stepping into. The humming stopped abruptly, replaced by a tense silence. Moments later, the water ceased, and you heard the rustle of a towel.

The door swung open, and there he stood. Dean Winchester. But it wasn’t the Dean you knew. The good-hearted, sweet, and brave man was long gone, as you were about to find out firsthand. He was clad only in a towel, and you could see the faint red marks in the bathtub, indicating he had just washed away blood from his body.

"Oh, coming here was a fucking mistake, sweetheart", he growled, flashing you with pitch-black eyes for a second. The beautiful green gone.

You froze, the sight of those eyes confirming your worst fears. This wasn't just Dean in a bad place; this was something darker, something more sinister. Your heart clenched as you took a step back, instinct screaming at you to run, but your legs felt like lead.

"Dean", you whispered, voice trembling. "This isn't you".

He laughed, a cold, hollow sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, but it is me. Just a new and improved version".

The darkness in his eyes flickered again, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the Dean you knew, the Dean you cared about. It was enough to keep you rooted to the spot, desperate to reach him, to pull him back from whatever abyss he had fallen into.

"You don't have to do this", you pleaded, taking a tentative step closer. "We can help you. Sam and I, we can fix this".

Dean's expression hardened, the flicker of humanity snuffed out as quickly as it had appeared. "There's no fixing this, Y/N. You should have stayed away".

With a sudden, predatory grace, he closed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your wrist with a bruising grip. The coldness of his touch shocked you, the pain snapping you back to the immediate danger.

"Dean, please", you gasped, struggling against his hold. "Fight it".

For a moment, his grip loosened, and his eyes softened, as if he was waging a war within himself. But then the darkness surged back, and his hold tightened once more.

"Get out", he hissed, shoving you towards the door. "Before I do something you'll regret".

You stumbled, catching yourself against the doorframe. Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. You had to be strong, for him, for Sam, for yourself.

"I won't give up on you", you said, voice firm despite the fear. "I'll find a way to save you, Dean. I promise".

His expression twisted into something unreadable, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flash of regret. But then the cold mask was back, and he turned away from you, retreating into the shadows of the room.

"Go", he muttered, his voice hollow. "Before it's too late".

With a heavy heart, you turned and fled, the sound of the door closing behind you echoing like a final, desperate plea. You knew this was far from over. Whatever had taken hold of Dean, you would find a way to fight it. You had to.

You grappled with all the emotions, feeling the weight of fear, sadness, and determination settling heavily in your chest. For minutes, you sat in your car, thinking about what to do. You knew if you texted Sam, he would rush here, bringing himself into danger. Dean was dangerous. That’s all you knew so far.

You thought a bit longer before you parked your car in an empty side road and checked into the same motel Dean was staying at. Sooner or later, you knew you had to call Sam, but you had to make really sure in which state Dean was. So you planned on keeping your eye on him for a few days before making any further steps.

The room you got was a few doors down from Dean’s. Close enough to keep an eye on him, but hopefully far enough to avoid his immediate suspicion. You unpacked your bag slowly, mind racing with the events that had just transpired. The image of Dean’s black eyes haunted you, a stark reminder of the danger he now posed.

Night fell, and the motel grew quiet, the occasional hum of a passing car the only sound breaking the silence. You sat by the window, the curtains slightly parted, giving you a narrow view of Dean’s door. Every movement, every shadow that passed by made your heart jump.

Around midnight, the door to Dean’s room creaked open. You watched as he stepped out, now fully dressed. He looked around cautiously, then headed toward his car.

You quickly grabbed your jacket and slipped out of your room, following him at a safe distance. Dean drove out of the motel parking lot, and you trailed him, keeping your headlights off and maintaining a good distance.

He drove to a shabby bar outside of town. You waited a few minutes before you followed him inside. With your hood pulled up, you sat down in a quiet corner, watching Dean as he played pool as if nothing had changed. It didn’t even take twenty minutes until he had the attention of a blonde girl clad in tight, short shorts and a shirt that barely covered her boobs. She quickly threw herself at him, flirting shamelessly, tracing his biceps. And Dean returned the flirting.

You watched as Dean flashed her a smile, but there was something off about it—too sharp, too predatory. The girl giggled, oblivious to the danger, as she leaned closer, whispering something in his ear. Dean’s eyes flickered with that same unsettling darkness you had seen before, just for a moment, but it was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Trying to remain inconspicuous, you sipped your drink and kept your eyes on them. Dean’s charm was undeniable, but you could see the strain behind his facade. The girl led him to a corner booth, her laughter ringing out as they settled down. Dean’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, but his eyes scanned the room, ever watchful.

You knew you couldn’t let him hurt her, but you also knew you had to be careful. Approaching Dean directly could trigger something unpredictable. As you mulled over your options, a large, burly man approached their booth, glaring at Dean.

“Hey, buddy, that’s my girl”, he growled, his fists clenching at his sides.

Dean looked up slowly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Is that so?”, he replied, his voice calm but menacing.

The girl rolled her eyes, snapping at the man, “Get lost, Travis! We’re not fucking anymore”.

Travis’ face twisted with anger and hurt, but he didn’t back down. “You can’t just toss me aside for this guy”, he spat, taking a step closer.

Dean’s smile widened, but it was devoid of any warmth. “I think the lady made her choice”, he said, his tone dripping with menace.

The man’s anger rose, and so did Dean’s. He stood in front of Travis, who, blinded by rage, swung his fist at Dean. With a swift and practiced motion, Dean caught his wrist and twisted it until a sickening crack echoed through the bar. Travis screamed in pain, his body collapsing as Dean shoved him back, sending him crashing into a few tables.

Chaos erupted as a few men jumped to their feet, and the bartender hurried over, his face pale with fear and anger. “Hey! You need to leave, now!”, he shouted, pointing a trembling finger towards the door.

Dean’s eyes flashed dangerously, but he gave a curt nod. “Fine”, he muttered. Turning to the blonde girl, he grabbed her arm, and she grinned, thinking she had found herself a brave man. She pushed herself against Dean, her smile wide and her eyes gleaming. “I’ll definitely join you in leaving”, she purred, looking up at him with admiration.

A pang of jealousy shot through you, sharp and overwhelming. Even after Dean had hurt this man, showing a side of himself that was terrifying and unrecognizable, your feelings for him were so strong that your jealousy for the girl overshadowed everything else.

As they made their way towards the exit, you followed, your mind racing with conflicting emotions.

You got back into your car and followed Dean to the motel, keeping a safe distance to avoid drawing attention. Your heart ached with every mile, the sight of Dean with the girl igniting a tumult of jealousy and pain within you. When they arrived, you parked a few spaces away, watching as they made their way into his room.

As soon as they disappeared inside, you slipped into your own room, a few doors down. The thin walls of the motel did little to muffle the sounds of laughter and movement next door. You tried to block it out, not wanting to imagine what was happening, but the hurt was impossible to hide. It felt like a dagger twisting in your chest.

You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall that separated you from Dean. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, determined not to let your emotions consume you. This was about more than just your feelings for Dean—this was about saving him from whatever darkness had taken hold of him.

Time passed slowly, each minute feeling like an hour. Eventually, the noises quieted down, leaving you in an oppressive silence.

You lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts racing through your mind. How had it come to this? Dean, the man you cared so deeply for, was slipping away, and there was little you could do to stop it. Yet, you couldn’t give up. Not on him.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You quickly got up and peered out the window, seeing Dean and the girl leaving the room. She was still clinging to his arm, looking smug and satisfied. You swallowed hard, the jealousy flaring up again, but you forced yourself to focus. This wasn’t about her; it was about Dean.

The next few days followed a grim, predictable pattern. Dean continued to hurt people, drink heavily, and bring different women back to the motel. Each day felt like a knife twisting deeper into your heart, but you stayed vigilant, determined to find a way to save him. What you didn’t know was that every time you fell asleep, Dean snuck into your room, simply watching you. He knew you never left. Of course you wouldn’t. You loved him.

Before becoming a demon, he always asked Sam how to tell you that he would never feel the same way about you, that you were just like a sister to him. But since he saw you a few days ago, something changed. His urge to touch you, to feel you, to bury himself deep inside you had intensified by a thousand times. You were practically all he could think about.

On the fourth night, you lay in bed, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. You drifted into a restless sleep, unaware that Dean was once again standing at the foot of your bed. His eyes, now a disturbing mix of longing and darkness, traced the lines of your face, the rise and fall of your chest. His hands clenched at his sides as he fought the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch you.

In your sleep, you mumbled his name, your voice filled with a mixture of love and sorrow. It sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. He stepped closer, his breath hitching as he imagined what it would be like to be with you, to feel your skin against his. The desire was almost unbearable.

But something else flickered within him—an echo of his former self, a whisper of the man who cared for you deeply but never in this way. It was enough to make him hesitate, to keep him from crossing a line he knew he shouldn’t.

He left your room, the door closing softly behind him. Back in his own room, he sat on the edge of the bed, his mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. The darkness within him was growing stronger, but so was his obsession with you. He didn’t know how much longer he could resist.

It had been nearly two weeks now. Dean’s self-control was wearing thin, the darkness inside him growing more insistent. Tonight, as he stood in your room again, the sight of you almost undid him completely. Your air conditioner had broken, and you wore nothing but a thin, soft bra and matching panties. The fabric was so thin he could see your nipples through it, and your body wasn’t covered by a blanket.

His breath hitched, the urge to touch you, to feel your skin against his, overwhelming. He clenched his fists, trying to keep the darkness at bay, but it was a losing battle. The demon within him fed on his desires, amplifying them until they were nearly unbearable.

You mumbled in your sleep, shifting slightly, and his eyes traced every curve of your body. The sight of you like this, so vulnerable, so inviting, drove him to the edge of his sanity. He took a step closer, his resolve crumbling.

“Y/N”, he whispered, his voice a mix of longing and torment. He reached out, his hand hovering inches above your skin, the warmth radiating from you like a siren’s call. His fingers trembled, aching to close the gap.

In your sleep, you murmured his name again, a sound filled with so much love and sadness that it pierced through the fog of his desire. For a brief moment, the real Dean fought through the darkness, horrified by what he was about to do.

He pulled his hand back, clenching his jaw. “Get a grip”, he muttered to himself, backing away from the bed.

Dean knew he needed to get away from you as quickly as possible. And so he did. An hour later, he packed his bag, grabbed his keys, and left the motel, driving off into the night without a clear destination. He just needed to escape, to put as much distance between himself and you as he could.

But you had anticipated this. Knowing how erratic Dean had become, you had placed a GPS tracker on his car. The next morning, when you woke up and found his room empty, your heart sank. You checked your phone and saw the signal from the tracker, confirming that he had indeed left for good.

Determined not to let him disappear completely, you quickly packed your things and hit the road, following the signal. It led you through desolate highways, each mile stretching out in front of you like an endless test of your resolve.

Hours later, you found yourself in a small, rundown town far from the main roads. Dean’s car was parked outside a dingy motel that looked even worse than the one you had just left. You parked a few spaces away, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

As you stood in front of his room, hearing the shower running inside, you took a deep breath and gathered your courage. Quietly, you turned the doorknob and slipped into the room. The sound of the shower masked your entrance, but as soon as you closed the door behind you and turned back around, you froze.

Dean stood there, arms crossed, eyes black as night. The growl in his voice was unmistakable. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone, Y/N”.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “Dean, I couldn’t. I won’t let you destroy yourself like this”.

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with”, he snarled, his voice low and menacing. “I can’t control this”.

“I know you’re fighting”, you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I can see it. But you don’t have to do it alone”.

Dean’s expression twisted with anger and something else—desperation. “You need to leave”, he said again, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

“I won’t”, you replied firmly, stepping closer despite the fear gnawing at you. “I care about you too much to just walk away”.

He clenched his fists, trying to maintain control. “You’re making a fucking mistake”, he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t protect you from this”.

“You don’t have to protect me”, you said, reaching out to touch his arm.

He stared at your hand on his arm, his breath coming in ragged gasps. That’s when he lost it.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. With a feral growl, he grabbed your hips with a force that left you breathless, pulling you up as if you weighed nothing. Before you could react, he threw you onto his bed, and within seconds, he was hovering over you, his eyes a dark, stormy mix of desire and anger.

“Dean”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. You could feel the intensity radiating from him, his struggle between the darkness and the man you loved.

His hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your neck. “I told you to stay away”, he hissed, but there was a note of longing in his voice that betrayed his words.

You gazed up at him, your heart pounding. “I won’t”, you said softly, your eyes locking with his. “I’m not afraid of you”.

For a moment, he seemed to falter, the darkness in his eyes flickering. Then, with a shuddering breath, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss filled with a desperate intensity. His grip on your wrists tightened, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into the kiss.

Dean broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he struggled for control. “You should be afraid of me”, he groaned, his voice raw and filled with torment.

His mouth wandered over your jaw, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The sensation was a heady mix of pleasure and pain as he bit your skin a bit too hard, leaving marks that would undoubtedly bruise. You gasped, your body arching involuntarily against him.

His eyes flickered, switching from black to green and back again, a visual testament to the battle raging within him. “Dean”, you whispered, your voice a desperate plea. You wanted to reach him, to pull him back from the brink.

“I can’t stop”, he growled, his grip on your wrists tightening and then loosening as he fought for control. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t… I can’t fight it”.

His hands wandered to your waist, squeezing it bruisingly as he kissed down between your breasts. You knew you should push him away, that this was dangerous, but his mouth on your skin was what you had dreamed about for over three years. He was all you wanted. Even when he ripped your flannel open, exposing your black bra, you didn’t stop him.

By that moment, Dean was gone. His eyes blackened out completely as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck that nice little pussy of yours so good”, he groaned, his voice dripping with dark desire.

A shiver of fear and anticipation ran through you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to resist. The raw intensity of his need matched your own, and despite the danger, you wanted him just as badly. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch with a feral hunger.

“How many?”, he growled against your skin before biting your nipple again, the sharp sting sending a shiver down your spine.

You gasped, not understanding his question at first. “Dean… what?”, you managed to breathe out, your mind clouded with desire and confusion.

“How many fucked you before?”, he demanded, his voice low and possessive.

You hesitated, the answer caught in your throat. His grip on your waist tightened, and you knew he was waiting for an answer. “No one”, you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “No one, Dean”.

For a moment, there was a silence that felt like it stretched on forever. “Good”, he muttered, his voice filled with a dark satisfaction. “Because you’re mine”.

He kissed you with a fierce intensity, his hands roaming over your body with renewed urgency. You could feel the possessiveness in his touch, a need to claim you completely. His fingers dug into your hips as he moved lower, his mouth trailing kisses down your stomach, leaving a path of heat in its wake.

As he reached your jeans, he roughly pulled them down, your breath hitching as you lay in front of him with nothing but your underwear. The way he looked at you made your heart beat faster. You couldn’t believe that this was finally happening. You had wished for this so often, and even if Dean was a demon now, you wanted nothing more.

His eyes roamed over your body, dark with desire. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation. But beneath the desire, a small voice in your mind reminded you of the reality of the situation. Dean wasn’t himself. If he ever came back to being the old Dean, he would probably hate himself for taking your virginity, for fucking you at all. You weren’t even 21.

Dean’s hands trailed down your body, fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties. He tore them away with a growl, leaving you completely exposed to him. His eyes darkened further, and he let out a low, appreciative noise. “So fucking perfect”, he murmured, his voice rough with need.

He positioned himself between your legs, and you felt the heat of his body against yours. His fingers brushed over your most sensitive areas, making you gasp. “Dean”, you whispered, a mix of plea and longing.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. “You’re mine”, he growled against your mouth, his hands roaming possessively over your body. “No one else will ever touch you like this”.

Despite the fear and the knowledge that this wasn’t the real Dean, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You wanted him so badly, had wanted this for so long. As his mouth traveled down your body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, you arched into him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Dean, please”, you begged, your voice trembling.

He looked up at you, his eyes black as night. “You want this”, he said, his voice a dark promise. “Say it”.

“Yes”, you whispered, your heart pounding. “I want this. I want you”.

With that, Dean pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free himself, not bothering to remove the rest of his clothes.

As you saw how he stroked himself, looking at your exposed body with black eyes, finally some sense came to you. Your breath hitched, and you backed away, closing your legs. It wasn't what you had imagined; you always dreamed about it being more intimate, with more love, with cuddling, with him kissing you more, and more softly.

"I don’t want this. Not like this", you whispered, fear creeping into your voice. But Dean wasn’t having it.

His eyes darkened further, a growl escaping his lips as he grabbed your ankles, pulling you back toward him with a force that left you breathless. "You wanted this", he hissed, his grip bruising. "You said it".

You tried to wiggle free from his grasp, but it was impossible. “Dean, don’t, please”, you whispered, your voice trembling with fear.

He snapped again, his grip unyielding. “You said you wanted this, so now you’re gonna fucking take it”, he growled, his voice filled with anger and desire.

Tears gathered in your eyes as he pushed your legs roughly open. But as he saw the tears and fear in your eyes, he hesitated, if only for a second. In his twisted, dark mind, there was still a fragment of care for you left. Dean let go of your ankles, and you instantly backed away, pulling the blanket over your naked body.

“How do you want it?”, he grumbled after a few moments, standing up and pushing his boxers back up, not caring about his open jeans as he headed for the whiskey bottle on the desk.

Dean brushed through his hair, clearly annoyed, and took a big sip of his whiskey. He glared at you, his eyes still dark with desire and frustration. “Not like this”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want it to be so… cold. I want it to be nice. I need you to be gentle with me”.

He rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. “Gentle?”, he muttered, almost to himself, the word seeming foreign and unwelcome in his current state. But the flicker of hesitation was still there, the part of him that cared for you trying to break through.

He stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to process your words, then turned back to the desk, taking another long swig of whiskey. “Gentle”, he repeated, the word tasting strange on his tongue.

He still looked annoyed, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—a struggle against the darkness. With a rough motion, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Your cheeks heated as you watched him.

As he looked at you, he felt a strange clench in his heart, something that felt almost like pain. “Alright”, he muttered, his voice still rough. “I’ll try. But don’t expect me to be all soft and shit”.

He stepped out of his jeans and boxershorts, leaving him naked and without any shame or hesitation. The sight of him, all hard lines and raw masculinity, sent a shiver down your spine. He pointed to your bra, his voice rough as he muttered, “Pull that shit off”.

You hesitated for a moment, the reality of the situation making your heart race. Slowly, you reached up and unhooked your bra, letting it fall away.

Dean’s eyes darkened with an intense, raw desire as he watched your bra fall away. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed your ankles and pulled, making you fall on your back, your breasts bouncing with the sudden movement. He climbed onto the bed, his movements rough and impatient, nudging your legs apart with his knee until your inner thighs hurt.

He hovered above you, his gaze locked on yours, filled with a mix of hunger and something more vulnerable buried deep within. One of his hands slipped between your legs, exploring your most intimate areas with a rough possessiveness. “Fucking wet for a fucking virgin”, he grumbled, his voice low and filled with dark satisfaction. Without warning, he pushed a finger inside you, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and discomfort that left you breathless. You tried to relax, to trust that Dean would find the part of him that could be gentle, but it was hard with the intensity of his touch.

Dean’s eyes gleamed with a dark satisfaction as he felt your reaction. “So fucking tight”, he teased, his voice dripping with a twisted mix of desire and amusement. His grip on your hips tightened, preventing you from backing away as he pushed his finger deeper inside you, curling it slightly to elicit another gasp from your lips.

You whimpered, your body instinctively trying to retreat from the overwhelming sensation, but his hold was unyielding. “Dean, please”, you pleaded, your voice a mix of desperation and confusion.

Dean grumbled, his voice rough with desire, “Wait until you feel my cock”. He started to move his finger inside you, watching your every reaction closely. His attempt to not be too rough was evident, but he couldn’t quite find a gentle rhythm. His touch was still intense, making you moan strained, trying to ignore the pressure.

Seeing your discomfort, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips hard and desperate. He seemed to be trying to calm you down with the kiss, though his roughness was still present. You could feel his struggle, the battle between the darkness and the part of him that cared for you.

“Dean”, you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling. “Please… just slow down”.

Dean took a deep breath, urging himself to slow down a bit. He looked into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours, the tension in his body palpable. With a careful push, he added a second finger inside you, making you gasp at the increased pressure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight”, he muttered, his voice a mix of awe and frustration. “This is definitely gonna hurt”.

You whimpered softly, the sensation intense and overwhelming.

Dean kept pushing slowly inside you, his fingers moving with a deliberate, measured pace. He was trying his best to get you ready for him, despite the roughness that lingered at the edges of his touch. You whimpered softly, the sensation intense and overwhelming, but you could feel the effort he was making to be careful.

“Just a bit more”, he murmured, his voice low and strained. He continued to move his fingers inside you, curling them slightly to stretch you. The discomfort began to ebb away, replaced by a growing warmth and pleasure.

As he was convinced you were wet enough, he slowly pulled his fingers out, his eyes never leaving yours. He grabbed his dick, positioning himself at your entrance, the tip brushing against you.

You shivered underneath him, biting your lip and gripping his biceps. Dean looked down at your pussy, his brow furrowed with concentration as he tried to thrust inside you as gently as possible. Despite his efforts, he failed, bottoming out with one deep thrust. The sudden, intense sensation made you scream, your body arching against him.

He immediately pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your cry, his kiss rough but desperate. “I’m trying, I swear”, his voice filled with frustration.

Tears welled in your eyes from the pain, but you forced yourself to breathe deeply, trying to adjust to the fullness. “Just… give me a moment”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

Dean breathed heavily, the intensity of the moment making it nearly impossible for him to hold back. You were clenching around him so hard that he had to grit his teeth to keep from losing control.

“You´re so fucking tight”, he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours. His muscles were tense, his body trembling with the effort to stay still.

You took several deep breaths, willing your body to relax and adjust to the sensation. The pain slowly began to subside, replaced by a growing warmth and pleasure.

Before you could tell him you were ready, Dean began to slowly pull out, a deep groan escaping his lips. The sensation was intense, and you gasped, trying to adjust to the feeling of him moving inside you. He pushed back in with measured restraint.

After a few thrusts that left you breathless, you urged him to go slower, the sensation still overwhelming. “Dean, please, slower”, you managed to gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“I’m already going slow!”, he snapped, frustration evident in his voice. The veins on his neck stood out as he fought to hold back, to keep from losing control. His eyes flickered between black and green, the struggle within him palpable.

You could see the effort it took for him to maintain his composure, his muscles tense with the strain. “I know”, you whispered, trying to soothe him. “Just… keep trying”.

His face fell against your shoulder as he continued to push inside you with a strained slowness, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. “Like this?”, he muttered breathlessly, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and desperation.

You nodded, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “Yes, like that”, you whispered, trying to encourage him.

He groaned, his movements steady but tense, each thrust controlled but heavy with effort.

“You feel so good”, he murmured against your shoulder, his voice trembling. “So fucking good”.

“Dean”, you moaned, your body responding to the rhythm he had found. The pain had faded, replaced by a deep, growing pleasure that made your toes curl. “Keep going, just like that”.

He groaned again, the sound deep and guttural. “I should have fucked you sooner”, he mumbled, his breath hot against your ear. “Never felt a pussy like yours”.

His words sent a shiver through you, a mix of shock and arousal. You could feel his desperation, his need to claim you completely.

“Dean”, you whispered, your hands tightening in his hair. “I love you”.

His movements faltered for a moment, the words seeming to reach a part of him buried beneath the darkness. “I know”, he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. He pushed deeper inside you, hitting your sweet spot with a precision that made you gasp.

“Oh shit", you moaned, your body arching against him, the pleasure intensifying. Your hands tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as you tried to anchor yourself in the overwhelming sensations.

His thrusts became more deliberate, more controlled, as if he was trying to savor every moment.

He felt you clenching around him, knowing you were close. “You’re mine now”, he murmured, his voice rough and possessive. “I hope you know that”.

Your heart ached at his words. Deep down, you knew that the real Dean didn’t love you the way you loved him. But this Dean, twisted by darkness, seemed to be obsessed with you in a way that was both unsettling and intoxicating. In your desperate mind, it was better than nothing.

You clung to him, your body arching against his as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity.

His thrusts becoming more purposeful as he felt you nearing your climax. “Say it”, he demanded, his breath hot against your ear. “Say you’re mine”.

“I’m yours, Dean”, you gasped, your body trembling with the force of your impending release. “I’m yours”.

With a final, deep thrust, he pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed with pleasure, your climax shattering through you with an intensity that left you breathless. Dean followed moments later, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he buried himself deep inside you, his release shuddering through him.

You were overwhelmed by your first real orgasm, your body trembling with the intensity of it. Your nails dug into Dean’s back as he spilled inside of you, his own release shuddering through him. You both lay there, breathing heavily, your minds spinning from the sheer force of the moment.

Dean’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He remained inside you, his body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. The room was filled with the sound of your combined heavy breathing, a testament to the intensity of what had just happened.

After a while, Dean pulled out of you, letting himself fall back on the bed, one hand resting on his sweaty stomach. You hesitated for a moment, the silence hanging heavily in the air. The intimacy of the moment had faded, replaced by an unsettling awkwardness.

“What do I do now?”, you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dean rolled his eyes, his frustration evident. “Go and fucking clean yourself before you soak my sheets”, he grumbled, his tone rough. Blood and his cum were already gathering between your thighs, making you feel extremely vulnerable.

You felt a pang of shame at his words, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The reality of the situation hit you hard, and you struggled to keep your emotions in check. Slowly, you got up from the bed, trying to ignore the uncomfortable wetness between your legs.

You made your way to the bathroom, each step feeling heavier than the last. Once inside, you closed the door behind you and leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, the water from the sink cold against your skin. As you wiped away the remnants of blood and cum, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—relief that it was over, shame for what had happened, and a lingering sadness for the way things had turned out.

When you finally returned to the bedroom, Dean was still lying on the bed, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. With shaking legs, you began to gather your clothes, trying to hide your naked body as best as you could. The vulnerability and shame still weighed heavily on you, and you moved quietly, hoping not to draw his attention.

But Dean’s eyes opened, and he watched you intently. “What are you doing?”, he grumbled, his voice rough.

You froze for a moment, clutching your clothes to your chest. “I… I was just getting dressed”, you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just come back to bed”, he muttered, sounding more tired than angry. “We can deal with this tomorrow”.

You looked at him, puzzled. “You want me to stay?”, you asked quietly, afraid to hear a no.

Dean rolled his eyes, his frustration clear. “Do I fucking stutter?”, he grumbled. “What part of ‘you’re mine’ didn’t you understand?”.

His words, though rough, brought a strange sense of relief. You slowly let your clothes drop back onto the chair and returned to the bed, slipping under the covers beside him. The vulnerability and shame still lingered, but his possessiveness was oddly reassuring.

Dean wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest. Despite his gruff demeanor, his touch was surprisingly gentle. You nestled against him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling a mixture of comfort and confusion.

“Just get some sleep”, Dean murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. He was tired and didn’t want to be disturbed. You bit your lip, inhaling his scent. You were sore, feeling it already, but you didn’t mind. Dean, your Dean, albeit a twisted version of him, lay beside you, naked. After he just gave you the best orgasm ever with ease.

He had taken your virginity. You had lost your virginity to your best friend, whom you had been in love with from the day you met him. The reality of it all settled over you, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest.

You nestled closer to him, savoring the warmth and comfort of his presence despite the complexities of the situation. As you breathed in his familiar scent, a sense of bittersweet contentment washed over you. It wasn’t the perfect, romantic first time you had always imagined, but it was with Dean, and that meant something.

“Dean”, you whispered tentatively, unsure if he was still awake. “I… I’m glad it was you”.

He didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, you thought he had fallen asleep. Then he shifted slightly, his arm tightening around you.

“I said you should sleep”, he grumbled, his voice low and rough with fatigue.

“Okay”, you whispered, nestling closer to him and resting your head on his chest.

His heartbeat was steady and strong, a comforting rhythm that began to lull you into a sense of calm. The soreness in your body was a reminder of what had happened, but as you lay in Dean’s arms, it became easier to push away the doubts and fears. For now, you focused on the simple fact that you were together.

The night was quiet, and eventually, you drifted off to sleep, the events of the day fading into the background.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 Actually, I have already finished the story. I will upload the other parts one by one and I have to say, this is one of my favorites.

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Part 2

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Taglist: @spnfamily-j2 @kr804573 @kylersgirlfriend34 @spncupcake @woooonau @winchesterwild78 @anacarolinadasf

[cry4mina]

BloodRedRoses

(Chaeyoung x fem!reader)

Word count: 4.1k

Angst/Smut

Summary: Best friends to ???

TW: weed, blood, sex, cheating, Sana?, mentions of Jihyo. I think that’s it.

A/N: hey hi hello! Happy Chae day (early edition!) pls enjoy! :)

*edit* my dumbass forgot to tag @nr1chaedickrider for the pics! 🖤

—

The couch is cold, leather against your face as you lay there numb, eyes freely releasing tears. Sniffling into the emptiness of your living room, reliving memories of you and your best friend’s last night of hanging out together.

—

“Chae! Let’s gooooo!” screaming from the edge of the sand. It’s 3 in the morning, humid as hell but she wanted to go to the beach. Her stress from her schedules made it hard for her to relax and you just wanted to see her smile.

God, her smile? She radiated diamonds when she giggled. Glowing and sparkling, refracting pure joy into everyone who saw it. It melted you instantly every time and she knew that.

Chaeyoung runs from your car, black sweatpants too big for her and your hoodie swallowing her whole, catching up to you and linking your arms together. Now she’s the one tugging you to the shoreline as you find your spot on the rundown lifeguard stand.

Studying the carvings of initials into the salt-soaked wood, taking your pocket knife out and getting to work on a new addition while Chae lights the joint carefully, taking a long drag and then passing it to you.

“Do you ever think about what the future holds?” exhaling the smoke as she stares into the waves from her seat on the rickety railing.

Joint hanging out of your mouth, looking up at her in awh, trying to actually hear what she just said. You were mesmerized by her, always.

“Y/n? You okay?” Glancing over to you with concern in her big brown eyes, knowing you had something to say and giving you the opportunity to speak your mind.

Panic flashes through you, pulling from the joint and then passing it back to her, trying to figure out what to say as she pokes you to tell her why you’ve been stuck in your own head.

“Yeah I’m okay.” melancholy laced in your words, continuing to carve a heart big enough to fit initials in, almost dissociating into the deepened grain of the wood. Imagining what life would be like with her as your girlfriend, you sigh heavily and she catches that too.

“You’ve been off for weeks…are you going to tell me what's up? I thought we told each other everything…” looking down at her hands and watching the smoke cascade off the joint before snuffing it out to relight later.

“Chae…” looking up at her again, immediately enthralled by her soft expression towards you. The care in her eyes visibly tracing your frame, waiting for you to let out what you’ve been holding in.

“I…like you.” immediately shutting your eyes and returning your attention to the carving trying to escape the discomfort of having just told your best friend of years that you had romantic feelings for her.

Through your peripherals you see her rotate to face you, expression dripping with grief, watching you chip away at the heart with your blade.

“Y/n…I’m kind of…seeing someone.”

—

Tear after tear falling from your eyes, face not even contorting at them anymore. The night you stopped speaking to Chaeyoung flashes in your mind at least three times a day, so the sting isn’t new but reliving that night definitely rubs salt into the wound.

It’s 2 in the morning when you decide it’s time to go to your favorite getaway location for the first time in about a month, wanting to create a new memory there by yourself so you can heal that part of you.

Rolling a joint for your adventure as you set off, trying to escape the sorrow of the wound that keeps reopening.

—

Arriving at the parking lot and parking in your usual spot, you sit for a second. Sniffling and ruminating in the disdain you were feeling for the crisp ocean air, taking in the changes to the setting around you.

Hedges still line the sides of the parking lot, a few palm trees sway in the breeze, beach roses consuming the foliage even more than before, blooming in the moonlight.

Stepping out of the car and walking over to the flowers, you smell the rich sweetness they give off and go to pick one for yourself, only to be pricked by the thorns immediately.

“Shit!” dropping the flower instantaneously, thorns sticking out of your finger. Pulling them out one by one under the moonlight, dripping blood onto the rose on the floor, staining it with the sanguine colored liquid.

Putting your finger in your mouth to ease the bleeding, you head towards the tranquility of the beach and the familiar place, the lifeguard shack, to be alone with your thoughts.

Climbing the slope and viewing the graffiti, more initials than before etched into the frame of the small shack that was raised off the ground to avoid the water.

The heart you chipped into the paint a month ago has someone’s initials in it that you didn’t put there…suspiciously, they’re your initials.

Perplexed by this, you try not to assume who added to your art installation as you light your joint, attempting to burn the ends evenly so it doesn’t canoe. Something you were never good at, that’s why Chae was always in charge of the weed.

Pulling on the joint as you stare into the sea and think about how much you miss her. The long silly conversations, the meaningful moments, the way she always got you a little snack when you were grumpy, her knowing your coffee order by heart, and it was understandable she did. She was your best friend.

Always showing you unconditional love, even through telling you about her new boyfriend, your memories slip back into the night you last spoke.

—

“Y/n…I’m kind of…seeing someone.” whispered to you through the waves, words causing a small wind within you, taking in the information that makes you nauseous.

Humidity sticks to every part of your skin, hiding the sweat from the rush of adrenaline when your hands start to shake. Seeing someone? Who? She hasn’t mentioned someone to you…

Spiraling at the thought of someone else taking that place in her life. Why hasn’t she mentioned her? Why wouldn’t she tell you about seeing someone? Weren’t you important to her?

“Y/n?…can you say something?” eyes shifting down at the floor. She knows what you’re going to say, just needing to hear it from your own lips before she assumes your next course of action.

“…I don’t have anything to say…” through soft tears you were hiding from her. They drip against your will, unable to hold them back when she gets up to hug you from behind. Hands on your stomach, cheek on your back and eyes closed, sniffling with you through the sadness.

“I don’t want to lose you…please say something…” the crack in her voice ruins you, reflecting the fracture she just chiseled into your heart.

“Who is it?” reverberates through your torso to her ears.

Chaeyoung can hear how shooken up you are, lungs quivering as you try to keep your breathing slow. She’s known for a while you felt this way, choosing to ignore it because she didn’t want you to vanish from her life because she wasn’t ready, only to assume you didn’t feel the same way now.

“I don’t think you truly want to hear about him…” replied coldly, still holding you tightly, unwilling to release you.

Heartbeat now racing at the pronoun she just laid out for you, realizing she was gripping you so tightly so you would run away from her.

“Him?! Chae I thought you we-” unhooking her from your body with some effort so you can face her, eyes drowning in your tears without your consent. You wipe the streams on your face, emotionally exhausted and sleep deprived.

She winces as you do. She knew this day was coming.

“Y/n, please just let me explain.” somewhat begging for you to hear her out, pulling on your sleeves and looking up at you, peering into your soul, framed in sadness.

“I’m happy for you…Can we leave?” flatly falls from your tongue.

“Y/n, please…” begging for another moment with you.

“Chae, I want to leave.”

—

It rings in your ears.

“Y/n please…”

Hearing it clear as day in your mind. You haven’t heard her voice since that night and thinking about it just pulls at your heart strings, playing the melody of regret for words unspoken.

Back against the front wall of the guard station, sliding down slowly until you were firmly seated on the ground. Pressing the filter of the joint to your lips and pulling a huge drag before you ash on the floorboards, watching the breeze sweep away the dust of gray and white.

Calm quiet waves and the weed comfort you through the ache of not having her around. Chest always swelling at the thought of her, wondering if she was happy, wondering if she remembered to eat that day…does he treat her right?

Sighing into the darkness, another pull, another ash, another gust as you sit in the depths of your emotions. Allowing your brain to take you through your thoughts of Chaeyoung without resistance.

“i was hoping you’d show up here eventually…Is this seat taken?” cuts through your mind's eye like a cleaver, startling you. Looking over to see a pair of familiar pajamas and an oversized hoodie, black hair flowing down from under the hood.

Those big brown puppy dog eyes glancing down at you, seeing your disheveled state, studying the faint tear streams down your cheeks and the small wet circular water marks on the floor beneath you. Pouting at you…Chae always hated to see you so sad. Especially because of the decision she made to date someone that wasn’t you.

Unsure of what to say, you just raised the joint up to her- extending an olive branch, a peace offering.

This made her absolutely beam at you, taking her place next to you and happily puffing away at the joint, giving a satisfied shimmy of the events currently taking place before plopping down next to you in the wooden floor.

Unable to contain yourself, you giggle as your body finally lets you relax. She was here, everything was going to be okay…right? Even with a false sense of security her presence gave you, you wished you could shake the feeling of missing her.

Exhaling quickly and turning to face you, making sure to make eye contact as she nudges your shoulder playfully.

“I missed you, dummy.” through the smallest smile you’ve ever seen, she was just too precious and you were completely wrapped around her finger.

“I missed you too…how are…things?” hesitantly questioning how her life was going, worried about the answer.

“Better now.” pulling the joint again before handing it back to you carefully. You wished she wouldn’t do that. Implying that you improve her life when you know who she’s calling every night before bed.

Shifting your focus to anything but what she just said, fixating on her hands, tracing over her finger tattoos with your eyes before grabbing the joint between your own fingers, lightly putting it out.

Feeling her energy was almost enough, the decompression of your muscles from just being near her was substantial enough to push the devastation away, even if it was temporary.

“How is he?” reluctantly flows through clenched teeth, oozing jealousy and spite.

“He’s…good.” tapping her fingers against her knees as she curls within herself, knowing you’re only asking because you feel obligated to. Knowing you’re hoping for a different answer.

Nodding your head and biting the inside of your cheek, fiddling with the ankle cuff if your joggers and trying to keep yourself seated. Discomfort sneaks in, thoughts of her being happy with someone else being a wave of nausea, imitating sea sickness as you wobble a little in the feeling.

The signs of your care for each other was always there, you were just too nervous to face her about them and she was anticipating you making the first move. There were plenty of moments to do so and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything sooner. Locked in your own fear, ruining your own chance.

“Can I ask you something?” Chae's curious eyes peeked up at you while resting her chin on her knees, a pout placed on her perfect lips.

“Yeah.” refusing eye contact out of a familiar fear, wondering if she was going to ask where you were or where you’d been.

“Why’d you stop taking my calls?” cheek now resting on her knees, you can see how she’s trying to calm her breathing through the difficult question. Never being one to ask them, hating confrontation but she had to know why you took so many steps back from her. She just need to hear you say it.

A deep breath, eyes shifting anywhere but on her. How were you supposed to tell her the truth?

“I…uhm…didn’t want to talk to you.” little lies through your clenched teeth, grinding away at your heart like sandpaper.

“Don’t lie to me.” Chae’s brows furrow as she lets out a little annoyed shriek. It’s hard not to giggle at her when she makes what she would call her “angy” face at you. It’s too cute to be considered “angy.”

“Fine.” Sighing heavily and turning to face her, hands roughly running down your face as you prepare to tell her what she definitely already knew. Swallowing roughly, deep breath, and go!

“I stopped talking to you because it’s hard to see someone else making you so happy…I wanted it to be me…and with how we are or I guess were, with each other I thought that’s what you wanted too.” attempting to not sniffle as the tears trickle down your cheeks again, stinging your eyes and adding to the salt on your face.

Feeling a warmth on your right side and the pressure of a head resting on your shoulder, you lean into Chae and continue to silently cry a little harder.

Tears staining her hoodie as they fall, a hand reaches around you and holds your waist, lightly scratching in an attempt to comfort you.

“You’re right, you know.” matter of factly uttered through the breeze of the early morning hours surrounding you.

“About what?” lifting your head to look at her while she elaborates on what she means.

“That is what I wanted…I just didn’t think you wanted to try because you never said anything or reacted when I dropped hints” nervously from her shaky lips while her own tears fell, her face now matching yours in the same sorrow.

“What? When did you drop hints?” confusion layered your words heavily, racking your brain for Chae’s attempts to show her feelings, completely oblivious to any hints she might’ve dropped along the way.

“Come on, don’t pretend like you don’t remember. I would always hold your hand, cling to you, cuddle with you…we even made out a few times over the years.” frustrated at your lack of knowledge, even though she never blatantly told you the level of what she was experiencing.

“Chae, we were young…I thought you were just an affectionate person or that it wasn’t serious. Like how Sana is?” a weak attempt to defend yourself from not making a move or telling her sooner.

“Sana likes you.” cold, flat tone, maybe a hint of jealousy uttered from her lips, body language shifting to show a little discomfort.

“What?!” complete shock consumes you, trying to take in the overwhelming amount of data you just received.

“Yeah, that’s why I never invited her to hang out with us after the first time…I didn’t want her to be that close to you” grief weighs her voice down to a whisper, the confession fresh even after years.

“Chae why would yo-” hands cupping your face almost immediately. She presses her lips on yours, tears mix into a painful spiral of what could’ve been between you.

Stiffening at the contact, you aren’t really sure what to do at the moment. Fighting to not lean into it, but not wanting to pull away either. She pulls away for a second to look at your face before placing one hand on your hip, pulling you into her, laying her lip on you again.

Not being able to help yourself after years of pining, you melt into it, quickly turning heated as she slides her tongue in your mouth. Her hands feel so comfortable on your skin, wrapping around your waist under your shirt, fidgeting with the hem of your pants laid on your hips.

Pulling away to press her forehead against yours, her hand descends down into your underwear before she whispers into your mouth.

“Is this okay?” eye contact is absolutely excruciating, completely drenching you in the dream you were living. Nodding your head aggressively and pulling her back into you for more.

The passionate make out session she started completely derailing into a full blown hook up, moaning into her while she’s gathering your wetness on her fingers to make small circles on your clit, eliciting more of the sweet sounds she wished she heard years ago.

There’s no way you’ll get caught here, it’s almost 3 am and the sounds of the sea will cover any noise you make so you allow yourself to be loud for her so she can see how badly you need her and how badly you want her.

Chae slides a finger into you, eliciting a gasp that she swallows whole. Curling her fingers up, you’re grinding into her palm and chasing the pleasure she knew she was giving you.

Breaking from the kiss, laying her lips down your cheek to your jaw and then to your neck. Biting down on your pulse point coaxing more whines from you.

“That’s right, baby, let me hear you,” softly spoken into your ear before she ran her teeth over your lobe, tugging at the skin, and resting her chin on your shoulder before whimpering when she felt your hand rubbing into her over her sweat pants.

Suddenly pulling her finger out and replacing it with two, she takes your hand and pushes it into her harder so you can feel how wet she is under her sweatpants.

“Can I..?” half moaned, clenching around her digits tightly, pressing into her so the seam of her sweats hits just the right spot.

“Not yet, gotta take care of you first” whined into your neck, still pumping her fingers deep into you at a steady rhythm, you thrust into her hands as you feel the knot tightening into your stomach.

“Fuck, chae…I’m gonna cum” hips sputtering, let out a string of obscenities and moans out, next to her ear.

Chae immediately removes her hands from you, kisses you and stands up, unable to look you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.” walking away and down the slope of the life guard tower, leaving you to figure out your feelings and question everything that’s ever happened between the two of you and wondering why she would fuck you just to leave you here feeling unloved and unwanted.

—

“Do you think dinner will be weird?” Sana asks from the passenger seat of your car as you pull into the parking garage in front of Jihyo’s apartment building.

“I don’t think so. At least I hope it’s not. It’s been a while since I have seen her, so I can avoid her through conversation with everyone else.” putting the car into park and looking over at your lovely girlfriend of a few months.

Her eyes soften, she knows the details of what happened that night at the beach. Sana knows how detrimental that memory is to you, but it was Jihyo’s birthday and you were a good friend. You weren’t going to miss it because of Chaeyoung.

“Alright, Honey. But if you get uncomfortable, please let me know. I don’t want you to put your own mental health at risk for the sake of a small party, okay?” Placing her hand on your cheek to make sure you keep eye contact with her.

Putting your hand on hers, you move it over and kiss her palm lightly. She giggles at you, before leaning in to lay her lips on yours.

“Thank you, baby.” smiling at her after pulling away, getting out of the driver's side door and walking around the other side to open hers, offering your hand out for her to hold while she steps out of the car, intertwining her fingers with yours and squeezing softly.

—

“Oh my god! Y/n! It’s been so long!” Jihyo runs at you and envelopes you in a bear hug before giving you a once over, taking in how you’re glowing and happy.

“You look good!” knowing the last time she saw you was when a week or two after the beach incident. You didn’t have to tell her what happened for her to understand who it involved and why you were distraught.

“I’m so happy to see you and that smile of yours again. Thank you for dragging her out of the house, Sana.” giving a wink and then passing you off to the others, giving them a chance to greet you.

Everyone gave a similar reaction to seeing you as Jihyo, except the one person you expected to barely interact with. A small wave behind an even smaller smile.

“It’s good to see you.” eyes on the floor, hands awkwardly fiddling with themselves, feet shuffling and biting the inside of her cheek. Her anxious tells were showing in full force and you weren’t the only one to notice it.

Sana places her hand on your lower back, rubbing small circles to soothe you through this uncomfortable exchange.

“Good to see you too, Chae.” before stepping away to gather with the rest of the girls to start the birthday festivities, finding you and Sana’s seats next to each other with Chaeyoung placed at the complete opposite end of the table.

—

Stepping outside for a second to get some fresh air, being too full to even think about the discomfort of Chaeyoung being within such close proximity. You lean against the railing of the patio taking in the calmness of the night sky when the door opens behind you and closes softly.

Without even having to look, you already know who’s present behind you. A long sigh expels from your lungs, you know what’s coming.

“We broke up… I broke up with him…I’ve been trying to get into contact with you since the night after…the beach.” stated before you could even blink.

Finding a place next to you on the railing, she pulls out a joint and lights it before trying to hand it to you. Politely declining, she takes a few pulls and then speaks again.

“After that night…I couldn’t get you out of my head. Every time he touched me, I wished it was you.” Glancing to see what emotions were present on your face, finding stoicism where love used to be.

“I blocked you that night, Chae…can we not do th-” she pushes your shoulder to open up your stance and takes a step towards you, getting close to your face trying to initiate something more than she should.

Tilting her head lightly and leaning into you as you take a huge step back from her, you tell her the absolute truth.

“Chae, we can’t do this. More importantly, I don’t want to do this. You had the opportunity and you wasted it. You used me that night at the beach for your own selfish gain and then left me there…alone. Cheating on your boyfriend and ruining our friendship on the same night…I don’t want to date someone like you.” stern in your words as you relive the night in your mind, again and again. Still grieving the past.

“I thought the love we had was pure and I’m trying to keep that memory alive so please, don’t remind me of what you did.” Stepping towards the door, pulling it open as fast as possible. You needed to get away from her. Now.

“I’m sorry.” muffled by her tears and the creaking of the hinges as you try to run away when she grabs your wrist and places something in your hands, not bothering to look at it before leaving her outside.

Not wanting to show your emotions to Sana, you rush into the bathroom before she can see the state you’re in.

Closing the door behind you and flipping the bright fluorescent lights on, you look into your hand and see a dried up beach rose that’s stained with dark crimson. You stare at it as you remember the thorns, looking at the tip of your finger where the scars were from that night.

Into the garbage it went as quickly as you saw it. Splashing cold water on your face, arms locked, leaning on the chilled porcelain sink trying to collect yourself so you can be present for the rest of the party when you hear a knock at the door.

“Baby? Are you in there?” the sweet voice warms your heart, as you turn the knob and crack the door to let Sana in.

“Oh, honey” immediately grabbing you to hold you while you silently sob into her. Rubbing your back and telling you that you were safe but you couldn’t help but keep wishing it was Chaeyoung. Always wishing it was Chaeyoung .

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Fumikage Tokoyami x Reader - Dangerous IV

Summary: After losing your quirk, you confide in Tokoyami that your situation does, in fact, bother you.

Warnings: Mentions of major character death, extremely dangerous situations, heavy angst, no fluff

Still fuming and not showing any signs of simmering down any time soon, you angrily stomped down the city streets, cursing his name. Pattering on the sidewalk let you know it was beginning to rain, but the storm came on in full force before you had time to properly react. Perfect, now you were pissed off and sopping wet.

You passed by a man, seemingly homeless near the entrance to an alleyway, but you hardly paid him any mind until he spoke to you. "Spare change?" he asked, holding out a cup. You shook you head sternly.

"Don't have any," you responded, moving on with your walk. You failed to notice, however, when the man stood, following you closely.

Suddenly, you were yanked into the alley, and forced against the wall, rough bricks scraping your exposed skin. "You picked the wrong night to fuck with me..." you growled, struggling against him as you reached out and tore a fistful of your hair out at the root.

You then went pale, not due to the pain, but due to the softness of the strands. Wet, human hair sat in your fist as you stared in horror. You were entirely extinguished and hopeless. "And why might that be, little lady?" the man chuckled darkly, brandishing a pocket knife and pressing it to your throat. "Now, let me ask again- ya got any spare change?"

-----

Nothing penetrated Tokoyami's mind other than the sound of your blood-curdling screams, socked feet slamming against the pavement with every bit of stamina he had. He had immediately bolted down the stairs of Height's Alliance, dashing out the door without so much as putting his shoes on first. "(Y/N)!?" he hollered, desperate to find you in the dead of night, following your cries of distress like a roadmap.

-----

Zeroing in, he finally found you, blood running cold at the scene unfolding before him. "Dark Shadow!" he immediately summoned, propelling his quirk forward to capture the assailant.

The violet silhouette immediately went forth, claws sweeping at your attacker with a possessive growl, creating a sliver of distance between the two of you. "Get away our (N/N)!" His grainy voice screeched as he swept the man into a vortex of violent intent, eating up power and gaining exponential mass.

In the entrance to the alley, Tokoyami trembled, nauseous but steadfast. He could feel his control beginning to slip with the time, location, and cloud coverage from the storm creating the perfect conditions for Dark Shadow to run rampant and do indiscriminate harm. His 'brother' had always had a vindictive streak, especially in favor of his close friends and the females in his life, but the thoughts clouding his mind were far more bloodthirsty than any of the other times he could remember. At that moment Tokoyami realized, his quirk was just as obsessed with you as he was, and following that trend, would do anything it took to ensure your safety. Even if that meant snuffing out a life.

Understanding both that he couldn't allow that to happen, and that you also needed his attention, he prioritized the latter, searching for you among the scene. You were glued with your back to the wall, eyes bugged and terrified at the tornado mere feet from you. You could hear the man screaming within it, and Dark Shadow's stratic voice cackling maniacally, teasing his prey all the while. Tokoyami could feel his heartstrings snap taught at the sight of you so petrified of his soulmate- and of his by association. Alas, you'd just have to get over it.

From afar, he assessed you, finding you didn't seem to be physically hurt, save for a small nick on your throat that barely bled. Other than that, though, you'd seemed to have lost your powers again and you were entirely defenseless. Not at all ideal, but he could work with that. He could devise a plan. He could save you. What he couldn't strategize around, however, was the scarred arm that reached out from Dark Shadow's vortex, which grabbed the front of your shirt, yanking you in to join whoever it was attached to.

"(Y/N), no!" The crow screamed, darting for you, only to be withheld by the sheer force of his own quirk. Tan hands penetrated the shadows, searching for you, only to be rewqarded with near misses every time. "Dark Shadow, stop!" He wailed, begging his friend to show you mercy, but in the back of his mind he knew that it was in vain.

You were catatonic with fear, held in the deadly embrace of a dying stranger, trapped in the eye of the tornado that called you (N/N). You had tried to scream out, begging the silhouette to stop- to release you, but your lungs were stripped of air. You had never thought about what the inside of Tokoyami's quirk felt like, but now you knew. It was painfully obvious, yet so confusing at the same time as you had been swallowed whole by an admirer who didn't even know you were there. There's no air in a vacuum and that's exactly what he was. You were suffocating.

"Dark Shadow!" Tokoyami continued, his pleas falling on dead ears as all you could hear was the rage of your capture. "Please, stop!" Tears streamed down his face from not only the thought of losing you or taking a life but also from the toll relinquishing control took on his body. His head throbbed terribly and his muscles ached from the adrenaline shock. Nevertheless, he persisted. "Please, Dark Shadow, you're killing her! Your precious (N/N), you're suffocating her!"

You'd long since begun to fade out, your original assailant having long since given into the need for breathable air, releasing you as he collapsed. "S-Shadow..." you whispered, raising a meek arm to the edge of the vortex, ghosting your fingertips over it before your hand dropped to your side. Accepting the fate that was on the horizon, you smiled faintly, all the anger from the previous hour having been drained from you along with your breath. You knew that in your last moments, your two favorite boys were trying to save you- that's what counted.

However, that sentiment was not shared by Tokoyami, who never gave up pleasing with his 'brother to release you. "Goddamnit, Dark Shadow!" His voice was hoarse and desperate as he tore his way through the shadow to find you, hands finally finding baby soft locks and regrettably taking it by the fistfuls. "You love (N/N), don't you?!" For the first time, the entity seemed to break his power lust driven trance, reacting to his words. "You want to protect her, don't you!?" Dark Shadow reacted again, head snaking around in Tokoyami's direction as his form became overall smaller. "Well you're killing her, don't you know that?! You can't love and protect her if you kill her, Dark Shadow!"

With a firm grip on your scalp, the raven harshly yanked you up, choking with relief as he could feel your back slump against his shins from just beyond the darkness. Now that you were close, he could do something as he continued to wear his soulmate down. "Please, you have to stop, you're hurting her!" He sobbed, feathers slicked back with rain and tears and sweat. His fingers traced your chin as he cradled your head against his thighs, trying to get you any air at all. When he could feel your lips, he shuttered, squeezing your cheeks and pushing his fingers past your teeth with little care for if he were being too rough or not. Forcing your airway open, he pulled your chin towards the sky, finally dipping your face out of the vortex. "Breath, goddamnit!"

"Hurt...(N/N)?" a nightmarish, distorted voice called curiously as the wind that my up the funnel began to slow.

"Yes! You're suffocating her, you have to calm down!" Tokoyami scolded, slapping your cheek, desperate for any sign of life from your limp body.

As if nothing had ever happened, the night air stilled, the vortex fading away entirely. The creature that had stolen your breath away now peered down at you cautiously, like a cat would a hunted mouse. "She's not moving..." The voice continued, this time more childlike with less distortion. "Fumi, what's wrong with her..."

Tokoyami didn't have the heart or energy to answer, simply calling the entity back inside his chest, and he went without issue. He knew Dark Shadow didn't mean for any of this to happen- it wasn't his fault. He simply had to focus on you right now.

"Don't do this to me," he wept, administering chest compressions in groups of thirty. This was fruitless, and he knew it. He couldn't give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, he couldn't give you the breath of life he knew you so desperately needed. If his mouth could meet yours, he wouldn't have had to find creative ways to kiss you earlier in the night. He wouldn't have had to resort to making out as a first kiss.

"Don't you fuckling leave me!" he scolded you, carrying you like a princess as his socked feet once again sprinted back to Height's Alliance. He had to ignore the fact that, even though he kept two fingers on your throat, he hadn't felt a pulse since before he pulled you out of the vortex. If he gave himself time to realize that, he'd never make it back. "I won't let you leave me like this, I'll get you help, I promise..." He chanted, holding your face close to his as if you might feel lonely if he suddenly stopped reassuring you. "Y-You're gonna be okay,"

He couldn't have burst through the doors quick enough, collapsing in the entrance, just in time for a hoard of teachers and students alike to meet him, having already realized you both were missing and ready to form a search party. "C-Call an ambulance!" He wailed, cradling you in his arms as his body finally gave out from under him. "S-She's dying!"

"Get back," your teacher said, skidding to his knees in front of him, attempting to take you into his arms, only to be blocked by an indigo shadow. "Tokoyami, please, we have to get her help!" he argued, reaching for you again.

"Our (N/N)," Dark Shadow warned, coiling himself around you and his host possessively.

The pair refused to let you go until paramedics arrived, only letting Aizawa perform mouth-to-mouth from the confines of their embrace. Finally, when the first responders got there and attempted to take you, Tokoyami had to be restrained, wrapped up in Shoji's many arms while Todoroki stood by with a small torch to keep his 'brother' at bay. Both watched idly as you were loaded into the ambulance and whisked away, having never been successfully resuscitated.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 1

Pairing: Osha Aniseya/Qimir "The Stranger" Themes of note: Modern AU, coffee shop AU, boxing/fighting AU, slow burn romance, personal identity exploration, sports injury & recovery, angst yada yada. First few chapters are rated T, but bumps to M eventually. Summary: One cold winter night, Osha meets a stranger while she's working late at the cafe. Like the spark that lights a very long fuse, there's no way this doesn't end in fire and upheaval.

A/N: Mehmehmehmeh I ain't back on tumblr this is just another horn of mine to toot lol it's also on my AO3 is why. This is also written for da bestie and is held hostage by them (affectionate). Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 1: round one

Somehow, the mysterious problems with the espresso machine returned.

Not that anyone asked her, but Osha didn’t believe it was pure coincidence that this was the fifth time she’d been called in to fix the machine immediately after Yord was on the schedule. It couldn’t wait for her next shift because most people who needed espresso needed it in the mornings, and Mae worked the morning shift.

Regardless, it wasn’t a coincidence. Osha just wanted to get quietly pissed at a fixable problem so that by the time it was fixed, she’d forget what she was pissed about. With just the lights on behind the bar and the small flashlight in her mouth, she tried not to think about how eerie the cafe looked at night. The snow swirling in the windowsill outside served as an unhelpful reminder that her car was still in the shop, and the walk back to the apartments would be very, very cold.

But the hot water tap had priority over that. This was the most temperamental part of the whole unit, a half dozen little fastenings keeping it pinned to the machine wall to prevent it from lashing out all over the place every time anyone pressed a button. Each gentle click of her spanner sounded like a clap of thunder in the deserted shop, and a sensation of deep, deep dread she hadn’t felt in years rose in her chest. “Shit,” she whispered, forgetting about the flashlight in her teeth and spitting it out onto the floor. “Damnit.”

When she stood, a man was standing behind the machine.

“Fuck!”

The man was lucky; Osha might not have had the left hook her sister did, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still have one hell of a swing. She almost threw the flashlight at him but held on, wielding it like a four-inch baseball bat.

The man’s face went from neutral and stony to overly expressive in a heartbeat. “Oh! I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you!” he said, laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head. Osha took him in, the baggy hoodie and jeans, the glasses, the toothy smile, the black bag slung over his shoulder. All in all, he didn’t look harmless, but he didn’t look like he meant her harm either.

“We’re closed.”

“The door was, uh, unlocked.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door, giving her a shrug as if to say, what can you do?

“Even so, we’re still closed. You have to go.” For a moment, she considered grabbing the portafilter as a potential weapon. It’d certainly work better than the flashlight.

He put both his hands up. “Alright, alright. Can’t I just… step out of the cold for a minute or two? I’ll stay over here by the door.”

She shouldn’t. This man was undoubtedly a stranger, and a strange stranger, at that. But she knew the biting cold wasn’t pleasant, and her kind streak had never entirely been snuffed out.

“Fine. Sit there.” She pointed to a table where she could get a complete look at him while she continued working. He went willingly but faced her when he took his seat.

“Thank you,” he said, head tilting slightly to the side. “Not many people would be so kind.”

She didn’t look over at him, only answered him with a grunt as she tore into the hot water line with more ferocity than necessary. How in the hell did Yord mess this up? Nobody even touches this but me!

“I thought this place was open 24 hours,” the stranger said conversationally. When he realized Osha wouldn’t answer him, he continued. “Didn’t it used to be? It was always packed, classes at midnight and sunrise and sunset.”

That piqued her interest. Osha paused her crusade against the tap and frowned at him. “Are you a member at the gym?”

Even from here, she could see his jaw clench a little, one muscle feathering so quickly it might have been a trick of the light. “Oh, a long time ago. A lot must have changed if you’re the only one on staff right now.”

It sounded threatening. It should have been threatening. A strange man had come in, told her he had some measure of fight training, and pointed out she was alone. Yet, Osha couldn’t put her finger on why she saw it as bluster. The dread in her chest had entirely dissipated, and her heartbeat had returned to normal following the stranger’s sudden appearance.

“How long ago? I’ve been here a long time, too. Know everyone here.” She kept one eye on him as she worked, uncoupling the wall fastenings for the line to the group head. 

“It was a long, long time ago. But hey—there might be a few days of overlap if you’ll answer a question for me.”

She frowned and kept her focus on the machine. “Go ahead.”

“You’re Osha, right?”

Her hand slipped, and she dropped the spanner deep into the machine’s body. Biting back a curse, her attention warred between the stranger knowing her name and grabbing her tools.

“H-how do you know that?” C’mon, where is it?

In the seconds she’d been looking away, he had stood up to prop his hip against the table he’d been sitting at. “I remember two little girls coming in for one of the children’s sunrise classes I was in. Twins, and I swear they looked just like you and your sister.”

For an instant, she tried picturing this strange man as a child, but she hardly remembered anything from her first few weeks at the gym when their dad had taken them to train. Her imagination wouldn’t be of any help here.

“You know my sister?”

“Mae? Oh, I’ve met her a few times in passing. It’s a small city if you get out enough. I only knew your names as a child, though.” He gave a breathy, goofy laugh, pulling at something like interest in Osha’s belly.

She supposed he was near her age. He looked young, but some people’s genes aged more gracefully than others. “It—yeah. I’m Osha. What’s—what are you doing?”

Slowly, he walked toward the counter beside the machine. The conversation had thawed the ice of their meeting a little, which could have permitted a closer boundary, but it was still a little alarming. “My hearing isn’t the best. Get your bell rung enough times, and it never stops singing, does it?”

He tilted his head in the light to show her the slightly blue shell of his ear—it’d been likely drained from a hematoma to prevent cauliflower ear. You didn’t have ears like that without being in the ring for a while. She also saw a pair of charming little twists in his hair to keep it off his ears, which shouldn’t have been so… cute. This guy was a lot of things, but cute didn’t seem like one of them. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, leaning on the counter with his forearms. The hoodie covered his body shape well, but from where it dropped off at the shoulders, he must have been incredibly broad. “It’s incredible, actually.”

“What is?” She shook off her single-bed shoulder musings.

“You look… exactly like her.”

His voice had dropped, along with the convivial squint to his eyes. His voice sounded dark and rich as his near-black irises and every part of her perked up in response. “Um.” Osha racked her head for an intelligent comeback, settling on, “Well, that’s not uncommon for twins.”

The playful lilt to his voice returned. “Yeah,” he grinned. “But really, down to how you frown at me, you two look so alike. It’s impressive.”

Osha frowned at him, then tried not to and failed. The stranger only smiled, a flash of that darker look shining through. Now thoroughly flustered, Osha turned back to the machine. “How’d you know I wasn’t Mae when you walked in?”

“I just knew.” She saw him shrug again in her periphery and continued wrenching back the hot water tap. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What isn’t wrong with it, more like.” She grunted and released another fastening. Now that there was an open entrance for her to stick her hand in, she felt around for the spanner she’d dropped. “This thing has to be like 25,000 years old.”

“That may be truer than you think.”

She met the stranger’s eyes, charmed by his easy smile and laughter. She’d never been one to make fast friends; that was more Mae’s speed, but whatever this conversation was, she wanted more of it.

She found the spanner and made a slight noise of victory, carefully maneuvering her hand back through—

The tap line went taut quite suddenly, and without any fittings keeping it in place, the hot water line suddenly contracted, snagging a jagged edge into her wrist and pinning it to the inner wall of the machine. She could feel the water getting hotter around her wrist, and she tried letting go of the spanner to yank her hand out, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Shit!”

Suddenly, two huge hands were there, one wrapping around her forearm to still her and the other reaching into the machine without hesitation. The line loosened around her wrist, and she was pulled free immediately. After that, the stranger hit a sequence of buttons to shut down the machine but still didn’t let go of her forearm.

In the fading whine of the machine, Osha’s heartbeat sounded like a stampede in her ears. She could feel the body heat radiating off the man this close. The callouses on his palms spoke of hard work and discipline. His knuckles bore the permanent blush of a fighter’s hands. Carefully, he pulled back her sleeve and hissed softly, revealing the minor burn over the top of her wrist.

“Poor thing.”

Heat flared up Osha’s neck as if she’d swallowed the hot water line instead of basically wearing it. The stranger leads her to the sink and runs the cool tap before parking her wrist beneath the faucet.

Burns weren’t uncommon in the cafe, and little cuts and swollen bruises weren’t uncommon in the attached boxing gym. As such, the first aid kits for both were well-stocked for each common injury. The stranger moved with confident grace to the red box on the wall, leafing through the contents before finding what he wanted: an antiseptic wipe, burn cream, gauze, and medical tape.

“Let me see.”

He took her wrist back in his hands, gentle but firm, just as he’d held her before. On the spots where his skin touched hers, it burned differently.

He kept his head down as he dressed her wound, using his teeth to tear off pieces of tape. He had a serious aura; the goofy guy he’d been now shifted into an intensely focused man. When satisfied with his work, he didn’t let go, using the last few seconds of soft quietude to draw his thumb across the top of the bandage.

“How’s that?” he said, bouncing back to the playful person he wanted her to see.

But Osha had seen that other side, the rock-steady intensity that had come over him the moment she’d been in danger. That version of himself hadn’t left until he knew she was out of harm.

Osha had hardly been able to blink, let alone breathe, during his treatment of her. Something about his light touch made her wonder how he fought. No soft-handed, theatrical fighter would have been capable of aching gentleness like this.

“It’s—good.” She cleared her throat and fought to look him in the eye. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It was the right thing to do. Anyway, it should be less dangerous when it’s off.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t do that,” she muttered, embarrassment taking over from flustered.

“It’s late, and we’re all prone to mistakes in the dark.”

Her eyes snapped to his at the statement. It sounded so familiar that she could have sworn she had heard it before, but the stranger was already moving, pushing his sleeve past his elbow. Time stood still for a fraction of a second, and Osha could see his forearm, all corded muscle, and scars. And then he reached into the espresso machine, carefully pulling out the spanner.

“There. That what you were looking for?”

Osha blinked owlishly before taking the tool from him. It was impossible to avoid brushing her fingers against his, and the spark of his touch ignited something deeper inside her than skin could reach.

“Thank you, uh…”

“Of course!” Dutifully, the stranger returned to his post, and the counter was put back between them as it should have been. But Osha couldn’t understand why she’d been so adamant about it before. Maybe he was right; it’s late, after all. 

The rest of the work was fast, ticking away minutes as she found the culprit: an overenthusiastic portafilter had shifted the group head an inch out of place, which made every piece of fussy machinery within the casing rebel. “Yord, I swear to god…” Osha grumbled, taking a second to write a warning on scrap paper once everything was packed up.

“Ah, a consistent problem, then?” The Stranger had stayed quiet the whole time Osha worked, and only when he spoke up again did she notice he hadn’t pushed his sleeve down. Her eyes snagged on the sight the way her wrist had snagged on the jagged metal inside the machine.

“You could say that. Hey, um, I have to run it a few times to make sure it’s operational. And… thank you for helping me out. Can I make you something?”

His head tilted in such a way that she could finally see the look on his face was a smile. It felt like looking into one of those dichroic prisms, finding a flash of blue here, a flash of red there, but only at one specific angle inside the glass. “Whatever you want to give me, I’d be happy with.”

Ignoring that, she fell into another set of muscle memory. Even tired and irritated from the burn on her wrist, her hands never faltered as she made up a shot on each group. When the machine shouted itself awake, she watched as two twin porcelain espresso cups filled with darkness, noting the flow, the steam output, and the lack of grit in the pour. “Perfect,” she murmured to herself, satisfied with her work.

Osha assembled a drink to-go for him, sliding it over the bar. Unfortunately, muscle memory took over again, and she shouted, “I have a two-shot Americano at the bar for—oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so loud.”

He threw his head back and laughed almost as loud as her barista voice had been. That toothy grin was back, and his hair fell into his eyes when he sat back again. “Thank you, I’m oh my god I’m sorry that was so loud, yes.” Their hands brushed again when she realized she hadn’t let go of the cup yet.

“I know it’s pretty late for caffeine, but it’s the least I could do,” she said, a little bashful. His laugh was nice. His smile was nice. He was nice.

He didn’t hesitate to bring the drink to his lips and take a sip, eyes locked with hers. All at once, her mouth went dry, and her blood sang. The smile evolved into a smirk when he set the coffee down again. “Never too late for me. I hardly sleep.”

“I know what that’s like,” Osha sighed, cleaning and shutting the machine down for the night. “I hope that drink’s okay.”

“It’s my usual.”

“No wonder you can’t sleep if your usual is twice the amount of caffeine normal people have.”

“The power of two is a potent high.” He shrugged.

“That’s a slippery slope to tread, stranger. It took me a while to quit.”

“Are you saying I’m an addict?”

Osha almost blanched at his words until she saw the playful tilt of his head. “I’m saying indulgence is a dangerous path.”

He shrugged. “Semantics.”

With the machine shut down for the night, she started flicking off the lights. The stranger took the hint, edging toward the front door.

When the main lights were off, he stood silhouetted against the storefront, snow swirling darkly around him like a smoky aura. He’d pulled up his hood; it gave him a more menacing outline than she’d thought him capable of. Like this, she couldn’t see the goofy smile or the glasses, the glittering dark eyes. He’d shed all of the attributes that made him approachable and safe.

And still, she was not afraid.

She walked to him, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder by the time he turned. “Thank you, Osha,” he said. The soft light from outside cast his features in sharp planes of shadow, concealing most of his features save his nose, lips, and chin.

“Don’t mention it,” she said softly, feeling trapped in a bubbled moment she didn’t want to leave. She’d reflect on this later; she wouldn’t scorn herself for doing what felt right in the moment.

His lips quirked in a half-smile she couldn’t resist returning. “I’ll see you around.”

And then he left in a blast of swirling snow and cold.

CHAPTER 2

[katsu28]

🍭 lollipop - 25. “Don’t do that. Don’t push me away. I can’t help it” From list 4 with steve??? pls and ty honey <3333

thank you for this request sweet anon! i hope you like it <3 even if it is just a pile of angst oops

steve harrington x reader, 1.2k, general tw for depression (it's not explicitly stated but it's kinda implied)

Steve knew something in you had changed when you slowly stopped hanging out with everyone. Even when you did join them, he noticed that you weren’t entirely there. You always seemed a million miles away, smiles a little too forced, eyes a little too hollow. Where there used to be warmth that made everything seem a little brighter, there was nothing but hardness in your gaze, like the light in you had been snuffed out. 

It was like you were becoming a shell of the person you once were, right before his very eyes. 

And he understood why, because he’d gone down the same path the first time he witnessed the horrors of the Upside Down. How could someone face everything that you all had and not come out the other end a different person? 

Steve wanted to be there for you—show you that you weren’t alone, that you had someone who could help. That you had him. He just had to figure out how. 

That was how he found himself hovering on your doorstep tonight, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for you to answer his constant knocking. It seemed like an eternity before the door swung open to reveal you standing on the other side of it, wrapped in a blanket and peering out at him in confusion. 

“Steve?” Your brow furrowed, hands gripping the edges of the blanket to draw it tighter around yourself. 

“Hi. Can I come in?” 

“I don’t think—” 

“Please?” You opened the door a little wider for him, moving to the side wordlessly as he hurried across the threshold and headed straight for the living room. You followed him, taking a seat on the couch and watching him pace back and forth in front of you for a good while until he finally stopped. 

Steve turned to you, letting out a deep breath. “I had an entire speech planned out in my head on what I was gonna say to you, but now that I’m here I’ve forgotten everything, so forgive me if I’m, like, rambling a lot, and I’m sorry if I sound pushy or anything, I just—I need you to know this.” 

You hesitated a beat before answering, wary of what he was about to say to you. “Okay.” 

“I know what you’re going through right now, Y/N. Well, not exactly what you’re going through, but I get it. Hell, I’ve even gone through it myself. This saving the world shit is fucking awful, I get it. It’s like, the world is fine, but you’re…not. Not you, specifically, I mean, but us. We’re not fine.” He blurted, hands moving a million miles a minute in gestures that might’ve been a tad too crazed, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You feel like you’re suffocating in your own thoughts all the time, and you keep replaying everything in your head, wondering if things would’ve ended the same way if you’d just tried something else, or gotten to Eddie a little faster. You feel like you’re never gonna be okay ever again, but I’m here to tell you that you will be. You’re gonna be okay, because I’m here for you. And I know that sounds like a load of crap, I thought so too after everything, but I promise, I’m here for you, anything you need.” 

He halted in his pacing once more to look at you, pleading honey eyes boring into yours. You glanced away immediately, focusing on the lamp in the corner of the room, because the longer you looked at him, the more the defenses you put up would start to crack. “You can yell at me, throw things at me, tell me you hate the world and everything in it, tell me you hate me—I don’t care. I just want you to let me help you.” 

You pressed your lips together, fists clenching under your blanket. “I don’t need your help, Steve. And I appreciate the effort, but I’m fine.” 

“You’re my best friend and I love you, you know that. So you know that I mean it in the nicest way when I say, no you’re not. You’re not fine, Y/N, and I know that because I know you. I know you’re not sleeping, I know you’re barely eating, and I know that you’re scared and angry and confused and about a hundred other different emotions that you can’t pinpoint., because…y’know, who wouldn’t feel the same after everything that's happened?” Steve couldn’t help the bitter chuckle that fell from his lips at his own words, because it was true. 

Even he still felt the same way most of the time, terrified that something else would happen and it would be right back to square one, all of you fighting a war against something the bounds of which you couldn’t even begin to understand, but fighting anyway because if you didn’t, no one would.

“And I wish I could take away everything bad in the world from you, but I can’t. All I can do is help you through it, if you let me.” He said defeatedly, kneeling in front of you.

His hands rested on your knees, the warmth of his palms spreading through your whole body. “I can’t lose you, okay? Not after everything else we’ve lost. I need you, Y/N. You’re my best friend, and I need you. So I’m sorry if I sound like an asshole right now, but whatever tough ‘I can handle it on my own’ thing you’ve got going on here, don’t do that. Don’t push me away.” 

“I can’t help it.” You whispered, lip trembling. When you finally met Steve’s gaze, your eyes were bright with unshed tears, and he was next to you instantly, wrapping his arms around you tighter than you ever thought possible. His hug was the final nail in the coffin, the last crack in your wall that sent it crumbling to the ground. You buried your face into his chest as sobs shook your body, clutching at him like he was your lifeline as you let every feeling all out into the fabric of his sweatshirt, barely hearing the reassurances he whispered into your hair. 

You’d never cried like this in front of anyone before, not even him, and after you’d finally stopped hiccupping, you felt strangely lighter. Still the same as before, but a little bit like the weight on your shoulders had been lessened just by knowing Steve was here. He wiped your tear tracks away with his sleeve gently, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to shut you out.” You sniffled, inhaling a shuddering breath. Steve made a noncommittal noise, taking one edge of your blanket and squeezing himself under it, squishing even closer to you.

“Hey, no. You don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’ll let me help you through this.” 

You held out your pinky towards him. “I promise.” 

“Good.” He linked his own pinky around yours, giving it a firm shake. “Now let’s try and get some sleep, okay? What can I do for ya? I can sing a little something, if you want. Some Tears for Fears, perhaps?” 

You let out a watery chuckle. “Not Tears for Fears, please.” 

“Whoa, what’s wrong with Tears for Fears?” 

“Nothing. Just…stay here with me?” 

“Okay.” He said softly, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder. “I can do that.” He wouldn’t even dream of leaving. Not now, not ever. 

[spark-my-nature]

It Takes Three to Tango (5) - DRW & SFK

This one's overdue, but it's also dummy thicc, so I hope that makes up for it. I love you all so bad, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love you've shown this silly little fic, I can't tell you how much it means to me. As long as y'all keep enjoying it, I'll keep writing, I'm so grateful!

Also, a big thank you to @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the brilliant ideas and the never ending encouragement <3 Do yourself a favor and go check out their incredible writing if you haven't already!

Chapter summary: It's been a couple of days, and you come home early to find something very interesting playing out on your couch. Very smutty, very fluffy (yknow, me and my usual bullshit)

Chapter WC: 12.7K | Pairings: Danny x Reader x Sam (MFM threesome with slash pairings)

Chapter warnings: 18+! Smut (handjobs, unprotected penetrative sex, unprotected anal sex), slash pairings (silly bisexual boys), language (swearing, use of derogatory terms but its all loving and in good nature), spanking if you squint, power play, mentions of infidelity, the briefest, tiniest blink of angst but it's immediately taken care of because I'm incapable of writing anybody suffering

Previous chapter | First chapter

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The sunny beautiful weather kept up into the next several days, and the gentle swishing of the warm breeze through the trees bordering your lawn was already serving to help you decompress as you juggled a few grocery bags around. Digging in your purse for the house keys, you felt the sun beating down on your neck and briefly toyed with the idea of a beach day with your boyfriend, something you were especially hopeful for once you’d seen his car in the driveway. Getting to ogle your gorgeous boyfriend in his short little yellow shorts? Yes please.

The days had been long for the boys, their stubbornness and passion keeping them going at full throttle as of late, and this was the first time in a while that Danny had been home before dusk.

It was now mid week, and after Sam had gone home Saturday afternoon, you’d hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Danny yet about… anything. You’d been working, he’d been recording, and the only time you’d see each other was in the evenings when both of you were too tired for words beyond your usual goodnights and I love yous. 

You wouldn’t say it was awkward between you, not by a stretch. But you could sense mild waves of an unidentified tension coming off of Danny when he’d walk through the door each evening, and with both of you too exhausted to have a real discussion about the recent happenings, that unfamiliar restless energy simply simmered on the back burner with a wordless promise to unravel it soon. 

Finally jutting the keys in the lock, you pushed inside, humming softly to yourself. You set down the bags and dropped your purse, kicking off your shoes with a pleased sigh. Home at last... no sign of Danny yet, though. He generally met you at the door, welcoming you home with a forehead kiss and a hug, but you supposed you weren’t usually finished work this early. He wouldn’t be expecting you yet, and you felt a prickle of mischievous excitement, hopeful to surprise him. 

That excitement was rapidly snuffed out and replaced with a worried confusion, though. From the direction of the living room, you heard it. 

A moan. 

Not Danny’s moan, no, that was a sound you knew well. You froze, listening closely as your heart drummed uncomfortably, racking your brain for any reasonable explanation or cause for the sound.

Then, again, a soft groan sounded, and this time it was immediately followed by a much more familiar grunt, one from your boyfriend’s chest. 

Your heart clenched for a second, seizing with a streak of fear and pain.

No, calm down, you told yourself, Danny wouldn’t cheat, and you knew this (at least you thought), but you couldn’t help the immediate twist of anxious pain that twisted your chest as you kept listening, silent and still in the entryway. 

Muffled and drawn out, another moan sounded from within the house, and it clicked into place for you. The most welcome, albeit unexpected cold bucket of relief washed over you as you recognized the source of the next noise. 

“F-fucking- mmm, Danny…”

Sam.

...Sam?

In all honesty, you didn’t see that coming, mostly because neither of you had really talked about Friday night’s rendezvous with the bassist aside from a few jokes and reassurances spattered throughout the rest of the weekend. And while you held a tiny shard of confusion, frustration, even a little anger at the lack of communication, the emotion that reigned over them all was this sort of voyeuristic intrigue.

Chasing after those feelings pushed you further into the house, as silently as you could manage, the thrill of catching them off guard confusingly mingling with the remaining embers of anxiety and hurt. For a flash, you felt guilty for sneaking around on them, before you indignantly shook the feeling off when you realized the hypocrisy. If they were gonna sneak around on you, then you were most definitely entitled to do the same, right? And so down the short corridor you went, toward the living room quiet as a mouse. You barely peaked your head around the corner and peered into the living room, and you were instantly knocked on your ass, on the verge of collapsing at the sight. 

Shirtless and disheveled, both men lay semi-upright, tangled across the length of the couch. Sam sprawled half on top of Danny, the latter with his hands tangled in the former’s hair and around his shoulders, holding on to him desperately as their lips muffled each other’s moans. 

Your eyes traveled hungrily to the movement of their grinding, bucking hips, and you realized each boy’s pants were undone and lazily shoved down beneath their groins.

“God, you’re so fucking hard,” Sam whined under his breath, interrupting nearly every word with a sloppy kiss to Danny’s mouth, unwilling to break apart for longer. 

Danny’s forehead pressed to Sam’s as he slipped his hands around to hold both sides of Sam’s face, his jaw slack as he attempted to catch his breath, inhibited by the relentless grinding of Sam’s cock against his own. 

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, arching his hips impossibly tighter against Sam’s. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

Sam grunted, his eyelids fluttering heavily as his back muscles flexed and rippled, his shoulders supporting his body as he kept his lithe hips rolling. He sucked in a sharp breath, pushing himself up straighter to watch his cock slide up and down alongside Danny’s. 

“Fucking shit,” he groaned, tossing his head back.

Danny’s hands smoothed down his neck, slowly palming down his chest, stopping to tweak his nipples and earning a stuttery gasp in reward. He descended further, finally landing both hands on Sam’s hips, gripping the flesh that was exposed with his jeans hanging around the swell of his ass. 

Sam paused his hips and shifted until he was balancing his bodyweight over Danny with one arm. Then with a submissive glance at the drummer’s face through his lashes, he brought the other broad, veiny hand between them and wrapped it around both their cocks together, slowly beginning to stroke them both in tandem. 

Danny hissed, eyes locking with Sammy’s as the pleasure rushed through him, the exhilaration apparent on his blissed-out face. 

Sam’s jaw hung open, drinking in his best friend’s pleasure-wracked expression. “You are so gorgeous, Daniel,” he whimpered.

Danny cracked a weak smile up at him, too distracted by the friction between his legs for much more. “So’re you, pretty boy.”

As Sam’s hips bucked involuntarily at the pet name, a spasm born of pleasure, he ground deeper into Danny’s purplish, rock-hard length and his fist jerked them both suddenly, sharp and tight. Danny’s head fell back with an almost pained-sounding moan, breaking off from the heated kiss and sending his cry of Sam’s name echoing off the walls. 

It was a gorgeous sight, the two of them absolutely lost in each other. No wonder they hadn’t heard you come home. The longer you watched, though, the harder it was becoming to stay still, hidden.

Sam let go of the two of them for a second, sighing needily at the frustrated whine Danny let out, and brought his hand to his mouth. He looked Danny in the eye as he slowly licked the flat of his tongue up his palm, coating it in spit before taking both their twitching cocks in his fist again. He huffed a whiny sound through his nose as he picked up the pace, Danny’s jaw dropping with a long, soft, moan that quivered out of him from the way Sam’s movements trembled his body. 

“Shit, Sammy,” he grunted, bucking his hips up, adding his contribution by fucking into Sam’s tight grip. 

Sam rolled his hips deeper. With the most submissive doe eyes you’d ever seen, he mumbled, his cheeks pink and breathless with the exertion, “That feel good, Daddy?” 

Oh, fuck. Well that’s all you’ll be thinking about for the rest of your life, you thought. 

Danny’s tightly furrowed brows tipped up in the middle at his words, a sharp gasp quickly followed with a loud groan. “Jesus christ,” he growled, nodding quickly as his hand behind Sam’s neck brought their foreheads together. As they panted into each other’s mouths, Danny’s low voice rumbled between the soft grunts punched out of him, “So good, uhh- so fucking good for me… such a sweet, pretty boy for Daddy, aren't you?”

 Sam whimpered loudly with a particularly delicious pump of their erections, his jaw clenching, flexing his gorgeous jawline. "Yeah," he whined desperately.

You swallowed hard, bracing yourself and stepping out into the open doorway. You leaned against the frame, crossing your arms, and when they still remained oblivious, you cleared your throat softly. 

Sam didn’t seem to notice, but Danny’s head jerked towards the sound, his eyes widening comically once they locked on you. He quickly shoved at Sam’s shoulder, hissing in his panic, “Sam, stop- stop,” to which Sam blinked up at him, confused and frustrated as he reluctantly stilled his hips. “What?” he breathed, brows knitting. 

“Babe!” Danny croaked, already hurriedly trying to tuck himself back into his pants. Sam’s head whipped to the door, his panicked expression matching Danny’s in an instant. 

“Oh fuck-“ he uttered under his breath, then rasped breathlessly, “H-Hey, doll.”

You stepped into the room, eyeing the two of them, holding up a hand to Danny, who reluctantly gave up on his futile attempt at modesty with Sam’s lithe body pinning his jeans in place. Sam, bit by bit realizing the situation at hand, went to climb off your boyfriend, but you shook your head. 

“No, no, you two stay put,” you ordered softly. 

Danny swallowed hard, his expression guilt ridden and panicked. “Honey, I- we didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry, it just kind of…” 

Sam nodded, finishing his sentence, “Just kinda happened, we didn’t- we should’ve told you, I’m sorry, it wasn’t, planned- fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll- I’m gonna go, I’m sorry.” 

Danny, for all his panic, seemed just as remorseful to see Sam leave as he was to have been caught with the boy on top of him. “Sam, wait-“

“Stop,” you interrupted, commanding but gentle. “Relax, alright? Both of you. Sam, stay, please?”

He took a breath and relaxed, only slightly, and nodded, shuffling his pants up over his hips as he adjusted to sit beside Danny as he too redressed his lower half. 

You shuffled your foot, glancing around the room. “I’m… I’m not mad. I mean, not really,” you told them, licking your lips. 

Danny let out a slow breath, and Sam nodded as he studied the rug beneath his feet. 

You shifted your weight as you rubbed your arm shyly. “Like, obviously, you guys seriously suck at communication…”

“I know, and I’m so fucking sorry baby, you’re so right, I-“

You cut off your boyfriend’s grovelling with a shake of your head and the hint of a grin. “Shh, let me talk.” He nodded apologetically and sat back into the couch cushion, looking small despite his broad frame. 

To your surprise, Sam extended a comforting arm, resting his hand over Danny’s leg and thumbing at the denim. 

Your eyes traced the movement, and you took a second to center yourself. "I know we never really set any kind of groundrules? Which is nobody’s fault in particular,” you conceded. 

Both boys peered up at you, slowly unfreezing by the minute when you continued to not flip out at them as they’d clearly expected. It was endearing in a strange way, especially with the way Sam still held his hand protectively over Danny’s thigh. 

You chewed on your lip and moved towards them, pulling the cushioned footstool that matched your lazyboy over to sit in front of them. Shyly keeping your eyes below their faces, you nodded once as you said, “I think we should… talk.”

Danny quietly agreed, “Yeah, absolutely,” joined by Sam’s tentative, “Okay.”

You swallowed, trying to land on a good place to start. Part of you selfishly wished Sam wasn’t here for this, with so much left unsaid between you and your boyfriend. You felt like you’d been caught unprepared, knowing there were things you would’ve liked to have gotten out in the open with your boyfriend alone first. Now, with Sam thrown in the mix, patiently but expectantly sitting before you, you struggled on the right words. 

With your eyes still casted down, you licked your lips again, then Danny’s hand came into view, gently holding his palm open for you. You suspected he was offering his comforting touch as an option for you, rather than just taking your hand as he usually would have done, perhaps out of fear that you were secretly, actually upset with him. You quickly took him up on it, squeezing his hand in comfort to both you and him. 

His reassuring touch put an end to the invisible stopper holding you back, and the words poured out of you.

“First of all, um... Sammy, I want you to be aware that Danny and I haven’t really, uh, talked about… you know.” 

He nodded, biting his thumbnail as he fixed you with those sweet brown eyes, and you continued. 

“So, Danny,” you looked up at him, meeting his gentle gaze, “I’m not… well, I’m not mad that you guys are…” you cracked a little smile, gesturing between them, “You know. Cause if I’m honest, I was hoping it would happen again, what happened Friday, and I think you were too. I mean, clearly,” you giggled quietly. 

Danny blushed, resting his cheek bashfully in his hand, his elbow propped on his knee. “I think that’s safe to say...” 

Sam smirked to himself, glancing at Danny from the corner of his eye before dropping his gaze to his twiddling thumbs. 

You smiled, lifting his knuckles to your lips. You then looked over at Sammy, catching his eyes. He ran his tongue between his lips. 

Addressing mostly Sam, but opening the discussion to both of them, you looked down nervously as you quietly started, “I think the only part that’s like, bothering me, is like, y’know, you guys did this without me, and like… maybe I should be, but I’m not really mad about the fact that you didn’t tell me, I’m more just… second guessing where I fit into this. I’m wondering, you know, is this… is this an us thing, or just a Sam and Danny thing…?”

Your question trailed off, and you cursed the pathetic way you asked. Danny was yours, you knew that, and it was stupid to feel like an intruder, but when you really thought about it, that’s how you felt. And the hurt and insecurity that you felt stemmed both from the fact that you loved Danny (and could be very territorial over him when you wanted to be), so the disregard for your feelings stung, especially from him. But it also stemmed from the fact that you wanted to be a part of what they did, to be included. 

You didn’t know exactly how you felt about Sam, but there was something there. You liked him, more than you'd realised for sure, and you were certain Danny felt the same. It happened so fast, so fast that you hadn’t had a chance to process it, let alone broach it with your boyfriend, and those feelings scared you enough without the whole, walking in on your boyfriend and mutual best friend on top of each other without telling you, thing.

Sam sat up straighter, more serious than you’d ever seen him, and shook his head quickly.

“No, nonono, it’s… if it’s anything, it’s an all of us thing. You really gotta believe us, dollface, we did not plan for this.” 

You blushed and nodded, satisfied with that for now. “So, will you tell me? What- what did happen, then?”

Danny glanced at Sam shyly, and Sam, meeting his eyes, smirked boyishly and fluttered those long eyelashes at him. “You’re a better storyteller than me,” he murmured, nudging Danny with his knee. 

You raised an eyebrow at your boy, cracking an expectant smirk as you leaned forward on your hands. 

Danny’s lips parted shyly, glancing between the two of you and chuckling softly after a second, “Okay, uh… we were recording, and I guess Jake had to leave, some interview thing? I dunno, but we all just packed up for the day, but somebody’s Tesla hadn’t been charging, so I said I’d drive him home.”

Sam rolled his eyes, loosely pushing air through his lips petulantly, “Yeah, yeah, anyway, we were gonna go do something-“

“-go to the beach,” Danny filled in.

“-Yeah, so we came here first, and…” Sam looked down and giggled, shrugging one shoulder as his cheeks pinked endearingly. “He asked if I wanted a drink. Such a great host, you know,” he glanced up at you, then back down to the safety of his hands, “… and then we…”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, making you grin wider at how cute they were being, dancing around the subject of their obvious desire for each other. 

He mumbled, “Yeah, then we were just…” 

Sam finished softly, holding his hands out in awkward offering, “…kissing.” 

You snorted, making both of them look up at you, baffled and amused as you laughed at them. 

Shaking your head, you giggled out, “That was some intense kissing.”

Sam snickered with a bratty eyeroll, and Danny chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his curls. “Like he said, it just kinda happened.” Sam nodded his agreement, and Danny squeezed your hand. “I’m so sorry, honey. You know I’d… I’d never…” he shook his head slowly, pleadingly, and you nodded understandingly, squeezing back. 

“I know baby,” you assured, leaning forward, smiling softly when Danny immediately met you halfway for a short kiss. He smiled, relieved and loving, whispering as he pulled away reluctantly, “I love you, so so fucking much.”

You smiled back, the last of your insecurities fading away, “I love you, too, Dan.”

Sam shifted on the cushion, and you glanced at him, unable to stop the way your eyes lowered to his pouty lips. 

He watched, curious, but too shy to say anything about it so soon after such a peculiar interaction, though he noticeably glanced at yours too. He took a controlled breath through his nose, and you watched his tongue dart between his lips, wetting them with that look of longing he seemed to carry with him whenever you were around. Your heart fluttered, feeling some deja-vu with the tension that suddenly manifested in the air. 

Nobody had warned you about what comes after a threesome with your best friend. How could anyone expect you to feel and act completely normal around Sam when you had intimate visuals playing like an NSFW slideshow in your mind’s eye of how his gorgeous face twisted in pleasure as you and Danny absolutely-

Danny softly cleared his throat, and your gaze shot back to him, jarringly broken out of Sam’s spell. 

“Um…” he held your gaze, keeping your hand in his tight hold as if expecting you to run away. “Can I just say what I’m thinking, and nobody gets pissed off at me?”

You chuckled, nodding, “Please, babe, you go for it.” 

Danny inhaled deeply and blew it out through pursed lips. “I… think… that this,” he gestured vaguely, shutting his eyes as he tented his fingers over the bridge of his nose, speaking into his hands, “…is more than sex for me. A-and I think you feel the same way,” he nodded toward you, then turned to Sam, looking considerably more nervous, “…and I… well, I hope that you feel that way, too.”

Sam stared at Danny, his eyes laser focused, and after a few tense seconds, he slowly nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted in a whisper, sucking his lip between his teeth. 

Danny nodded and turned to you, raising his brows. You blushed after glancing quickly at Sam, who sat raptly watching you for your answer. “Me too.”

Danny relaxed slightly, cracking a nervous grin. “So… I dunno, where does that leave us?”

Sam licked his lips, thoughtfully trailing his eyes around the room. “Well, you guys are so disgustingly in love, it’s hard to be in the same room with,” he teased, smirking, lifting his eyes to your face. 

Your heart fluttered, smiling shyly at him, and he grinned back, tilting his head to the side. “I like you a lot, doll, I’m not afraid to admit that, I just wasn’t sure if I should.”

You giggled, a hang clutching your imaginary pearls. “What?? The Sammy I know would never hold back on saying something he shouldn’t!”

“Well, actually, I just said it anyway, so point proven.”

You moved your hand to your cheek, hiding your face a little from him as he sat back with that stupid, know-it-all smirk.

“I like you, too.”

Danny chuckled, and when you looked at him curiously, he shrugged, “This is just... so fucking weird.”

You giggled, and Sam shot him a funny look. “The fuck do you mean by that?”

Danny held out his hands in front of him, “Oh, I dunno, my girlfriend admitting she likes another guy right in front of me? Is that not a strange thing to you?” 

Sam smirked, elbowing him. “Nothing new, all your ex-girlfriends secretly wanted me, too.” 

Danny shoved Sam with a snort of laughter, “Fuck off, you know what I mean.”

Sam snickered, “Yeah, I know what you mean, but I dunno, it doesn’t feel that weird to me.”

You giggled and nodded, shrugging, and Danny grinned at you. “Yeah, that’s the thing, it doesn’t feel, like, wrong,” he agreed.

You smirked at Danny playfully, “Everything is always weird with you guys, maybe we’re just used to it.”

Sam laughed, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You giggled innocently, shrugging and sitting up straighter. Danny rolled his eyes playfully, shifting slightly to face Sam more directly. When he had Sam’s attention, his grin turned more serious. 

“Do you…” he trailed off, hopeful and expectant. Sam chuckled, growing bashful as he eyed Danny’s face. “Do I what?” he softly teased, “Like you?”

Danny blushed, saying nothing as he blinked at his friend. Sam licked his lips, then placed his hand back on Danny’s thigh. 

“Of course I do,” he softly confessed, his eyes tracking his own hand’s movement back and forth. 

“I’m no geometry professor, but it seems like that’s a complete triangle to me.”

Both boys laughed softly at your observation, and it fell quiet for a moment. Danny holding your hand, and Sam’s hand on Danny’s thigh, you extended your arm forward to touch Sam’s knee instinctively, closing that triangle.

Your touch made Sam’s breathing catch in his throat, and your eyes locked on each other. Your stomach erupted in butterflies all over again. 

“So… where does that leave us?” He pondered, more flirtatious than Danny had been before. 

You looked at Danny, and he smiled at you with a raise of his brows, as if to say, ‘You’re running the show, babe.’

Grinning, you looked back to Sam and said, “I mean… should we just see where this goes?”

Sam leaned toward you a little more, “Yeah, fine by me,” he grinned. 

Danny nodded, “Should probably have some ground rules, though.”

You smiled as you toyed with the rip in Sam’s jeans. “Probably, yeah, you whores.” 

Sam barked out a laugh, and Danny blushed, giggling to himself. 

“Kay,” Sam shook his head, amused, “Well, how do we feel about like, fucking without one of us there?”

You smiled wide, shyly giggling at his bluntness as you thought for a minute. You were about to answer when Danny spoke up, “I think I’m okay with that, if you are, sweetheart.”

You grinned shyly, heart fluttering under the suggestive heat of Sam’s smirk. “I’m okay with it too. I mean, I’d like to know about it, preferably, but I know things just happen sometimes. As long as we communicate, I don’t have a problem with it.”

Sam leaned back into the couch cushion, folding his arms behind his head with that self-assured, cocky smirk stretching his lips. “Well then, lucky me,” he purred. 

You bit your lip, failing to conceal a bashful smirk as you ignored him. “Are you guys gonna tell Jake and Josh?”

Danny glanced at Sam, who shook his head dismissively. “Those nosy assholes don’t need to know what I do with my dick,” he said bluntly, making you laugh and nod. "I'm not gonna hide it, but I'm not gonna make some weird, confusing announcement."

Danny gave a soft smile and shrugged his indifference. “S’up to you, baby.”

Sam’s eyes widened at the pet name, and you smiled wide, surprised but endeared as you watched Danny’s shoulders stiffen, his lips parting in surprise at himself as his cheeks flushed pink. 

Sam blushed even brighter, a crooked grin finding its way across his face. “Oh,” he said quietly, looking absolutely smitten.

Danny broke into an embarrassed smile, chuckling awkwardly, “I- sorry, I-“ 

Sam shook his head as he leaned forward, lips pressing over Danny’s to shut him up, and Danny let out the cutest little upward-lilted coo of surprise. Sam smiled visibly against his lips, and Danny melted, kissing him back gently, bringing his free hand up to cup Sam’s face. 

You squeezed Danny’s hand longingly, and he pulled away with a flustered smile. He beckoned you over, “C’mere, baby,” scooching to the side and patting the space between him and Sam. 

You quickly switched seats, turning your head to Danny first once settled. He smiled down at you lovingly, so familiar and gentle, and you felt safe. You leaned forward and met his lips in a soft kiss, melting into the sweet warmth of his mouth as he deepened it with a low hum. 

A hand came to rest on your thigh, and you broke from your boyfriend to face its owner, smiling boyishly at you, his eyes hopefully dipping to your lips and back. You nodded almost imperceptibly, and Sam’s smile widened, leaning forward until his lips met yours. 

And God, did this feel good. Sandwiched again between them, even better than the first time now that you were all on the same page. Danny’s lips latched onto your exposed neck, and you let a moan of surprise permeate the kiss, the sound egging on Sam. His cute button-tipped nose brushed your cheek as he enthusiastically indulged in your kisses. 

He slid his hand further up your lap, bunching the fabric of your flowy shorts up around your hips as he kneaded and pawed at your inner thigh. When he swiped his fingers beneath the hem over your bare skin, you shivered, and he was pulled back to reality, parting from the kiss with a sharp, wet sounding gasp for air. His eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated as they focused. 

Danny’s hand mirrored Sam’s, slipping between your legs to squeeze the flesh of your other inner thigh. You bit your lip, a rush of heat making your brain lag for a second, your eyelids fluttering. Danny smirked as he sucked at the delicate skin behind your ear. 

“Mmmhhh,” you softly whined, brows knitting as Sam’s nose brushed your cheek, teasing you with his lips millimeters away. 

“You want me?” he rasped in a whisper, the corners of his ridiculously attractive lips quirking up when you nodded weakly and whined, “Yeah, Sammy.”

Danny lifted his face from your abused neck, licking a line up your racing jugular as he ascended. You whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open already, something a very smug Danny seemed to notice. 

Murmuring seductively against your cheek, he smirked, “You want me too? You want us both, baby?” He nudged at your cheek with his beautifully arched nose, and Sam’s fingers rubbed gently teasing patterns up and down your inner thigh. 

You let out a tortured sigh, losing the fight and closing your eyes. “Oh god… yeah.”

Nimble bass fingers untied the string holding your shorts around your hips as one drumstick calused palm scraped gently down to curl under your knee. Danny waited until Sam had wiggled your shorts past your ass to take over and tug them off, your foot flicking them off to the side. He mouthed his lips along the shell of your ear as he lifted your knee, bending your leg to rest one foot on the cushion. 

Sam’s eyes threatened to stare a hole into the damp spot forming through the baby blue cotton between your legs. He licked his lips, placing his hand over your lower abdomen, as he snuck a quick glance at you and Danny. You spread your thighs a little further, smirking as the boys’ eyes met and Danny’s hand slid up your thigh with an inviting nod between your legs. 

Gently, locking eyes with you, Sammy smoothed his hand down, tucking his fingers under your panties and grazing his middle fingertip down and back up through your folds. Sam’s eyelids drooped with lust as he sighed out a low groan, “Oh my god, you’re wet.”

Danny purred against your cheek as he watched your underwear stretch over his friend’s knuckles. “Oh yeah? What a good girl, baby, dripping all over his hand.”

Your eyes closed of their own accord, a humiliating whimper slipping unexpectedly past your lips. 

A second set of lips evened out Danny’s, tugging at your other earlobe and flicking his tongue against it. Sam’s fingers spread you open, rubbing in loose, lazy circles. The slick noises drew a growl from Danny’s chest, and you fluttered your eyes open weakly, only to catch Danny’s tongue wetting his fingers. His eyes flashed dangerously at you as he closed his lips around them, the light catching the glisten from his saliva as he pulled them out and joined Sam’s party for one in your panties. 

You moaned sharply as you felt Danny’s fingers take over circling your clit, switching into tighter, faster circles, while Sam’s middle and ring finger slowly curled into your heat. 

Your head rolled against the back cushion, looking up at Sammy as he lifted his face away. Your needy and glazed over expression made his nostrils flare in hunger, and his lips parted absently. “How’s it feel, beautiful girl?” he rasped quietly. “Our fingers feel nice?”

You whimpered, brows tightly knit as you bucked against both their hands, working away at your wet center in incredible synchrony. “So nice, I fucking-“ a deeper curl of his fingers had you keening pathetically. “-shit, like that, yeah,” you mewled. 

“Yeah?” he cocked a smug eyebrow, “S’that the spot?” He drug the pads of his fingers against your walls, and gave you a dirty smirk when you jolted and whined. Danny’s fingers paused their languid circles, his pointer and middle finger parting and slipping down along either side of your clit, squeezing together in a slippery hug as he pulled them back up. 

Your jaw hung open, your gaze unfocusing as you blinked distantly at the ceiling. You heard Sam’s dark chuckle by your ear as Danny returned to his expert massage to your clit. 

Craving more, more friction, more of them, you swallowed dryly. “Fuck me?” you softly pleaded, voice hoarse already. 

Danny playfully nipped the apple of your cheek, whispering teasingly, “Who? Me or Sam?”

Sammy echoed, “Yeah doll, who’s cock d’you want?” 

As his fingers pumped in and out of you faster, Danny moved his lips back to the shell of your ear, nibbling gently and murmuring with that low, breathy voice. “We both wanna be inside you so bad.” 

“So fuckin’ bad, beautiful, you got me addicted to that tight little pussy,” Sam confirmed, a touch of begging in his tone contrasting deliciously with Danny’s domineering rumble. 

You whined, reaching your hands up to grab at both boy’s necks, rolling your hips into their talented hands. “Both, I- fucking christ- both of you, take turns, or whatever you want, please?” 

Sam’s forehead plopped against your temple as he breathed out a strained whimper. “Shit,” he breathed. 

Danny removed his fingers from your clit, his hand rising to your chin. He grabbed your face firmly, his two glistening fingers forcing into your mouth as he turned you to face him. You sucked his fingers, lapping lazily at the pads of them as you slowly focused your eyes on his gorgeous, pleased face. His filthy, challenging grin would’ve had your knees buckling had you been standing. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest little whore,” he grit the last word through his teeth, his grip tightening slightly around your jaw. You inhaled sharply through your nose and nodded around his hand as best you could. 

“What a naughty little thing,” came Sam’s voice, far too smug for your liking. “You a little slutty for us, babe?”

Jesus christ. 

Danny’s hand suddenly let go, and in a flash, Sam found himself in the same boat that you were just in, locked into your boyfriend’s firm grip. 

“Not sure where you’re getting all this attitude from, Sammy,” he all but sneered, Sam’s shuddery inhale threatening to bring a smirk to your face. 

“I was just- ah!” Danny slipped his hand around to tighten his fist around Sam’s hair, tugging at the root near the back of the brunette’s head, effectively interrupting his pitiful excuses. 

“You what?” Danny smirked, slowly rising to his feet as he leaned over Sam’s face. 

Sam’s eyes, wide and submissive, blinked up at him as he licked his lips nervously. “Nothing…!”

Danny cocked his head, arrogantly shaking his head and hovering his lips just out of Sam’s pouted reach. “Good boy,” he purred. 

Sam’s eyes flew shut as he bit back a groan. 

You curled your fingers sweetly around Danny’s bicep, fixing him with a pleading look. When he met your eyes, you fluttered your eyelashes and asked, “Bedroom?”

Danny grinned at you rather ferally, then gave a quick nod and grabbed both yours and Sam’s hands. 

He marched you both down the hall, you and Sam sharing a quick, bashfully excited grin from the corner of your eyes before Danny gently but firmly turned you around to the bed and pushed you down, side by side and equally impatient for his next move. 

Danny stepped over you first, brushing a gentle hand along your cheek as he gazed down at you tenderly. “Can you be my sweet girl and sit quiet for a minute, baby?” 

You smiled and nodded up at him, pressing a chaste kiss to his wrist. He thumbed once over your cheek and smiled back sweetly, booping your nose just to hear your giggle before he stepped over in front of Sam.

Sam leaned back on his arms, paying close attention as the drummer stood before him. Danny brought a hand to Sam’s cheek, much like yours, and his eyes followed as he trailed his fingers lightly down Sammy’s neck and collarbones. 

Sam’s breathing stuttered, licking his lips as he let Danny’s delicate touch brush admiringly across his upper half. “What about me?” he challenged softly, flustered but smirking playfully nonetheless. 

Danny raised a brow, lifting his heavy gaze to Sam’s, before placing his palm firmly in the center of Sammy’s chest and shoving him down flat on his back. Sam gasped, the sound choked and ending with a garbled whine as Danny followed, crawling over top of him to hover over his lithe form.

Gripping the bassist’s jaw lightly, Danny brushed his lips ever so faintly against Sam’s as he murmured lowly, “You wanna be a good boy for me, too?”

Sam’s wide eyes blinked up at Danny in a sort of lustful awe, nodding his head and licking his lips. A smirk creeped across Danny’s lips, nodding along teasingly as he brushed their lips together again. 

With the most arrogant, shit-eating tone, he rumbled low in his chest, “Yeah? Are you daddy’s good boy?”

Sam’s face flushed wildly as his eyes closed tight, but the moan he tried to conceal was unmistakable. Though as pathetically needy as Sam surely felt, you could swear you had it worse. Arousal coursed through your veins like adrenaline, and it threatened to send you into cardiac arrest, as your boyfriend groaned like he’d tasted the finest wine and his tongue languidly slipped through his parted lips to lick across Sam’s pouted ones. 

Sam slunk his arms around Danny’s neck, pulling the man down on top of him into a deep, needy kiss. His long fingers raked through the drummers silken curls, his brows furrowing as he sighed a moan of satisfaction into the kiss. Stealthily, Danny shuffled his knees up around Sam’s hips to balance himself, then smoothed his hands up the wiry arms that held him in place. He then gracefully pried Sam’s hands away, taking them in his own, still slow and sweet, before pinning them above his head and breaking the kiss, biting his lip at Sam’s bratty little whine. 

You found the presence of mind, through the absolute brain fog of arousal, to cheekily goad them on. “Little desperate, aren’t we Sammy?”

Sam’s head whipped over to you, jaw dropping as he prepared to retort with a sassy comeback, but Danny eradicated any chance of that with a firm roll of his hips into Sam’s stiff crotch. 

“Aht,” he warned, “Don’t make me shut you up, Sammy.” 

Instantly, your cheek was forgotten, as the bassist bit his lip. Once again doe-eyed and smirking for Danny, Sam murmured with a shake in his voice, “…and, uh, for curiosity’s sake… how would you do that exactly?”

Raising an eyebrow at him, Danny wordlessly gripped Sam’s jaw in his broad hand, and when Sam’s jaw instinctively fell open between his thumb and fingers, his open mouth was promptly filled with Danny’s pointer and middle fingers. You watched Danny’s eyes droop in lust as Sam’s widened submissively, obediently closing his lips around the callused digits and sucking demurely. 

“There’s plenty of ways I can occupy your smart little mouth,” Danny sneered arrogantly, “The only problem is finding one that you won’t fucking like so much.”

You ventured a hand over to lightly rub over Sam’s chest, amusement evident in your cheeky addition, “That’s awful slutty of you, Sammy.” 

Danny’s shoulders stiffened, and he kept his eyes on Sam as he warned, “Glass houses, babygirl, glass houses.”

Sam’s smirk became clearer when Danny slipped his fingers out of his mouth. “Yeah, sweetheart, glass houses,” he mocked condescendingly. 

You shot him a petulant glare. “I thought you were told to shut up? Or are you not daddy’s good boy?”

Sam tried to sit up indignantly, blushing, but was restricted by your boyfriend still pinning him to the mattress. His mouth opened with another smart ass remark, but a snarl from Danny’s chest stole the words from his tongue. 

“Enough! Not another fucking word from either of you,” he barked, shooting Sam a dominant, warning look as he straightened off of him with a final, parting squeeze to his jaw. 

You both watched Danny nervously as he loomed over you both, running his tongue over his teeth. 

“Up,” he grit, tipping his head back. 

You stumbled to your feet, but Sam’s bratty streak flared up full force, and he cocked a sassy eyebrow and eyed up Danny challengingly. “Why?” he huffed. 

You rolled your eyes with a knowing smirk, and Danny smoothly articulated, “Because I told you to, Samuel, and you will listen to me, or you won’t like what happens next.” 

Sam scoffed but clambered to his feet beside you, and Danny gave him a condescending smile. “Good.” He leaned back on his hands against your shared dresser and eyed you both admiringly. “Now take each other’s clothes off.”

You looked up at Danny as you echoed his command back in your head. He met your eyes and gave you a smug smile, winking at you. You blushed and smiled back, then giggled as you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder. 

Facing him, he fixed you with that butterfly-inducing, boyish smirk of his. He rested his hands at your shoulders and bit his lip. Those hands began roaming, from your shoulders towards the hem of your shirt, as slowly and patiently as his eagerness allowed, taking his time to subtly palm at your tits through the fabric. 

“Mmm… he doesn’t have to tell me twice,” Sam softly flirted, lifting his honey brown eyes from your midsection to meet your flustered gaze. 

Lopsidedly smiling, you helped him lift your shirt over your head and quickly began working his pants off. “First time for everything, I suppose,” you teased, dropping to your knees to tug his pants down his thighs. 

Sam’s breath hitched, his brain rebooting at the sight of you below him like that, and pride bloomed in your chest from his lack of a sassy retort. 

His briefs, caught in the bunch of fabric, were pulled down as well, and the tip of his erection grazed your chin as it sprung up. Nearly forgetting about the third party watching silently beside you, you leaned forward instinctively and kitten licked over the delicate slit at the tip of Sammy’s cock. 

His resulting hiss of surprise was almost lost under Danny’s softly, but rigid order, “Nope, I said undress, not suck his dick, get up.”

You blinked over at Danny, pouting, “But Danny, I-“

He shifted his weight, cocking an unimpressed brow at you, and you gave up, rising to your feet to level yourself with the boy who was suddenly singing a very different tune.

Sam wordlessly rushed to tug your panties down past your ass, letting them drop to the floor and stepping even closer to you as he reached around behind your ribcage to nimbly unclasp your bra. His fingers slipped under the straps, brushing them off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground, his hands immediately cupping and squeezing your tits appreciatively. The softest breathy moan breezed past his lips, but now it was Sam’s turn to be interrupted. 

“Sam. Bed,” Danny grit, “On your back.”

Sam’s eyes flashed with that same needy, aroused glaze, obeying Danny, even giving him a little nod as he sat at the edge of the bed, swinging his legs up and laying flat, lacing his hands over his stomach as he turned his head to look up at you both patiently. 

“Good boy,” Danny purred, sounding pleasantly surprised and pleased, and he tipped his head back to peer at Sam down his nose. You licked your lips, watching Sam’s cock twitch against his flexing stomach with longing. 

Danny’s fingers brought you out of your daze, tipping up your chin as he smirked down at you. “Hi, beautiful,” he sweetly brushed the back of his hand over your cheek, and you smiled lovingly up at his gorgeous face, preening under his praise. “Can you do me a favor, my love?” 

Your heart fluttered as you rested a hand on his chest and nodded, “Yeah, gorgeous, what do you need?” 

He casted a playful glance in Sam’s direction before refocusing on you fondly. “I want you to go sit on his lap, and then do exactly as I tell you. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you replied, seductively playful, thoroughly enjoying the way his jaw clenched subtly through his slow inhale. He shook his head fondly, lightly smacked your ass, and you gave him a cheeky grin and turned on your heel, climbing onto the bed beside Sam’s lithe form. 

“Hey,” you flirted, planting your hands on his chest and swinging one leg over his hips to seat yourself atop him, his cock parting your slick lips, pressed between you and his abdomen in a wet hug.

His gasp shuddered out of him and was joined by his hands shooting to hold your hips tightly. His fingers flexed tight, white knuckling the flesh. “Ohh, god, you little devil,” he grinned lazily, struggling to not buck into you. 

Smirking down at him, you brought your thumb to your mouth, wetting the pad of it and dropping it down to rub circles gently into the delicate, vulnerable underside of the head of his cock.

Sam whined, wincing in surprised pleasure as his head rolled sideways, face burying into the pillow as he writhed under you. “Shitshitshit-“

“Okay, hands off now.”

You lifted your hand immediately, shooting a proud grin Danny’s way when Sam sighed from either disappointment or relief, you couldn’t be sure. 

Pleased with your listening, Danny cocked his head and drank in the sight of you both. Your attention was drawn to the movement below his waist, absently rolling your hips into Sam’s as you watched your boyfriend rubbing over his bulge. 

“Mmm- Danny,” Sam choked, swallowing hard, “What now?”

Danny hummed thoughtfully, casually popping open the button of his jeans. “Grind on him, princess.”

Nodding quickly, you started rutting your hips against Sam’s steadily, slipping his length up and down through your folds. Sam hissed, his eyelids fluttering closed as his brows tipped up in the middle. His face the picture of pleasure, he moaned softly, encouraging you with his hands kneading and pulling at your hips. “Fuuuuuck, sweetheart,” he rasped.

Danny grinned, a dangerous gleam in his expression. “Stop.”

You bit your lip hard, reluctantly stilling atop him. Sam huffed, lolling his head impatiently to face Danny, unimpressed and pouting. Danny snickered at his expression, nodding his permission to you to keep going. 

You kept your eyes on your boyfriend’s as you wiggled slowly forward and back, your stomach flipping with anticipation as Sam’s cock slipped frictionless through your folds. Danny’s little smirk morphed into something darker, tugging his zipper down as he held the heated eye contact. His fingers slipped beneath the band of his boxers, and he flicked his gaze to where you were soaking his best friend’s cock rhythmically. 

“Stop,” he articulated again.

Sam expelled a puff of air beneath you, and you were broken away from Danny’s spell. Glancing down at the man beneath you, you had to bite back a whimper, fighting not to disobey Danny’s instruction. Sam’s face twisted in his growing frustration, his forehead beginning to shine with sweat. It had you suddenly realizing just how hot it had become in the room, three bodies warming the space with the heat of the growing, restless neediness. 

Sam swallowed harshly, “Wish you weren’t such a good little girl for him.” His eyes flashed up to meet yours, a teasing glint peeking through his frustration. Danny huffed a smug laugh beside you.

You giggled softly, dropping your gaze to his nipple as you swiped a thumb over it, rolling it against your forefinger. “Oh yeah?”

He sighed and let his head lean to the side as he gazed up at you, fond and needy through those long lashes. “Mhmm. I think you should be my good girl,” he rasped, rolling his hips enticingly, sending the tip of his cock slipping just barely, teasingly, into your clit.

You whined softly, acutely aware of the man leaning against the dresser beside you, watching you both interact quietly. 

Sam watched you lick your lips longingly, and he smirked, smoothing his hands up your sides slowly. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it, gorgeous? You wanna listen to me instead? I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” he finished with a seductive, raspy whisper, punctuating it with a squeeze to your tits as he reached his destination, cupping and massaging them. 

Your lips parted with a breathy moan, fighting every urge to give in to the temptation he dangled in front of you. 

You met his eyes again, apologetically, regretfully shaking your head. 

You could feel Danny’s proud, wide grin without even glancing at him. “Good girl, sweetheart,” he praised, pushing off the dresser and stalking toward the bed. Once he’d reached your side, plastering himself along your body, he purred, “God I love you.” He bit down on the back of your shoulder, earning a shaky whine from you through your smile. 

You craned your neck, peering at him through your eyelashes, the way that made his knees weak for you. Danny’s face softened further, taking your face in one hand as the other wrapped around your middle. He captured your lips in a needy kiss, insistently taking another kiss the second each one would end. You melted back against his solid chest, the change in your seating position cruelly dragging your slit against Sam’s neglected length. 

A helpless, sweet whine eminating from below you brought both your attentions to Sammy, laid out beautifully unraveled against the sheets. He watched your kiss with longing eyes, and his swollen tip peeking out from between your lips was a dark shade of pink. 

Danny rested his chin over your shoulder, hugging you with both arms from behind as he raised a brow at Sam, smirking lightly. “What?” he teased, deliberately clueless.

Sam furrowed his brow and rolled his eyes, centering his focus on Danny’s face. “Oh, nothing,” he retorted sarcastically.

Danny ignored him, turning his face in to tuck into your neck, his breath tickling your neck. You giggled as he brushed his nose against your shoulder. “Okay then,” he smirked. Kissing and loving on your skin and deliberately making you squirm, knowing full well how each wiggle he coerced out of you was driving Sam crazier.

Sam grit his teeth, hissing as you jerked your hips against him suddenly, his grip on your hips stiffening as he growled, “Fucking stop it already!”

Danny raised a brow and emerged from your neck, gazing arrogantly down at the bratty demand. “What was that?” he muttered lowly, warning Sam with his tone. 

As usual, Sam ignored the warning and proceeded full throttle. “I said stop it! I need- I need more, just-“ He fought against your weight, grinding weakly into you and making you whimper softly. His voice came out breathless and rough when he pleaded, “C’mon, enough fucking around, let me fuck her.”

If anybody had’ve asked, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them how much you would’ve loved the way Sam bypassed you, going directly to your boyfriend for permission to use your body. It was somehow simultaneously degrading and empowering, and with your affinity for both praise and degradation, the confusing combination worked like a charm for you. 

Feeding into both of these kinks, Danny toyed his fingers down your lower abdomen, grazing the tips against your clit and the tip of Sam’s cock as he responded, “Well isn't that just a damn shame, Sammy. You were so close, too.”

Sam furrowed his brow incredulously, “Close? To what? Losing my mind?”

Danny chuckled humorlessly, “To getting what you wanted. You were being so good,” he tsked. “Oh well, you made your bed, now.”

Sam sputtered, and let out a stuttery whine as you ground against Danny’s fingers, and by extension, his aching cock. “Fuuuck, please,” he groaned, “Let me in, let me- oh-“

Danny copied your move, circling his thumb, wet from your soaking pussy, into Sam’s frenulum, smirking evilly when the boy squirmed and jerked beneath you. His anguished bucking hips had you weakly leaning back into Danny’s chest for support, and the two of you falling apart beneath his control had Danny’s cock pounding in his pants. 

Finally Danny removed all contact, stepping back from the bed as you fell forward onto Sam’s chest for support. Both of you looked up at him with matching pleading, lost expressions.

Danny’s lips quirked up in a smile as he shoved his pants down and caught onto your needy faces.  

“Well god, don’t look so pathetic,” he cooed, “Both of you, breaking my heart over here. Just be patient, I’ll make it worth it.” 

He bit his lip as he watched you both closely, pushing his briefs down his thighs, his cock twitching in the air under both your desperate stares. 

Taking himself in hand loosely, he instructed, “Roll over, babes. Sammy on top now.”

Sam flushed at the endearment, and you smiled to yourself. You managed to roll off, onto your back, and wiggle into Sam’s place as Sam fit himself between your thighs on his knees. He stared shamelessly at your spread open lips, biting back a soft groan, and your stomach twisted with excited butterflies, opening your thighs wider teasingly. 

“God,” he sighed, licking his lips as his eyes lidded heavily. Sam began leaning forward, his face nearing your folds, but instead groaned and rested his forehead against your stomach when Danny barked, “Stop.”

“Whyyyy?” Sam whined, muffled against your tummy. “I want her so fucking bad, Danny,” he lifted his head, begging Danny with his eyes. “Why not? Please, baby,” he whimpered softly. 

Danny’s face softened in surprise and affection. “Sammy, babe…” 

Sam closed his eyes, his cheeks flushed pink as he continued, “I want you both, I wanna fuck her, I want you, I want- just, please, Danny, anything, please, I-“

Danny, in two strides, was back with one knee up on the edge of the bed, crashing his lips against Sam’s desperately. Sam moaned, wrapping an arm around Danny’s strong midsection, the other hand resting on your thigh, gripping and kneading at the flesh, seemingly to feel grounded to both of you. 

Danny reluctantly pulled back, pecking Sam’s lips a few times in a drawn out apologetic goodbye. Breathless, he rested his forehead against Sam’s and looked into his eyes as best he could in their proximity. 

“Let’s take care of this, yeah?” He murmured, running his hand down Sam’s front smoothly, past his navel, wrapping his broad hand firmly around Sam’s achingly hard, slick-dampened cock. 

Sammy nodded, shallow and desperately, rocking himself through Danny’s grip with a sigh of relief that melted his entire body against Danny’s, much like yours had just done. Danny wrapped his free arm around Sam’s waist, supporting him, and used his leverage point there to grind his own erection into the plush of Sam’s ass.

Danny inhaled Sam’s sweet musky scent, burying his nose in the boy’s hair as he groaned under his breath at the relieving contact to his neglected cock. With one more roll of his hips, he straightened out, steadying Sam overtop of you before crawling onto the bed behind him. 

Sam craned his head curiously, but Danny placed a soothing hand to his shoulderblades, thumbing reassuringly as he got himself settled comfortably. He positioned himself behind Sam, a sort of vertical big-spoon around the lithe bassist. 

You bit your lip in anticipation as the addition of another body atop the bed pushed your thighs open wider to accommodate Danny. Sam’s lips parted in awe as he caught glimpse of the light catching the delicate strings of your wetness decorating your parted lips. His eyes shot closed with a whimper though, as Danny gave a smooth rock of his hips against his ass.

Danny, now firmly plastered skin-to-skin against Sam’s back, reached around Sammy’s front and took his cock in hand. He leaned them both forward, forcing Sam onto his hands and knees above you. Sam gasped, Danny’s cock grinding between his ass cheeks as he loosely jerked Sam off. 

You reached down, and Sam fluttered his eyes open at the movement, catching your gaze and locking eyes, electric and intense as you swirled your fingers around your clit. Your jaw fell open a bit, and the relief had your eyes rolling back slightly with a sigh. The sight of it had Sam exhaling through his nose harshly as though the wind had been punched out of him. 

Danny lowly rumbled in his ear, “Push forward a bit, sweet boy.”

Sam shivered, obeying and letting his hips droop forward until the tip of him caught against your entrance. Danny kept his eyes locked on the contact of his cock against your pussy from over Sam’s shoulder, angling his jaw to the side to kiss and nip the bottom of Sammy’s jaw. “Good,” he breathed, “You just let me do all the work.” 

Sam whined and nodded, blinking sluggishly. 

Danny gave his cock a few pumps, twisting loosely at the tip after each pass, the head of him torturously pressing at your entrance. At Sam’s shudder of pleasure, he grinned lightly, slapping Sam’s cock against your clit with a few filthy smacks. 

You gasped, whimpering and arching into it, “Danny- Sam-“ Their names rolling off your tongue instinctively was like sexual whiplash, and you panted, lost for words.

Sam weakly chuckled, lifting his head to peer at you through his lashes. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Danny nipped at the shell of Sam’s ear playfully, using his thumb as leverage to hold Sam’s length close and snug to your folds. He then rocked into Sam’s ass, forcing Sam’s cock through the tight squeeze and causing a feral moan to slip unrestricted past the boy’s lips. You gasped, tossing your head back as the sudden, focused contact to your clit sparked intensely through your body. You cupped and groped at your tits absent-mindedly as Danny continued to second-hand thrust Sam into you. 

Both boys locked eyes on you hungrily, but you were oblivious, eyes closed and brows tipped up in pleasure from the steady rubbing of the ridge of Sam's head against your clit. Moaning weakly, you pinched your own nipple, head lolling to the side. “Yes,” you whined, “Fuck yes, oh my god…”

Danny growled near Sam’s ear, abandoning your combined groins. He brought his hand at Sam’s hip up to wrap around the front of Sam’s throat, a sight that stole your breath as you fluttered your eyes open. Sam hoarsely keened as Danny opened his mouth and licked a hot, filthy line from the base of Sam’s neck to his jaw, sealing the move with hot open-mouthed kisses to Sam’s jaw and cheek, finally meeting Sam’s lips hungrily in a sloppy, feral kiss. 

Squeezing his throat cautiously, Sam encouraged him with a cut-off groan, sucking on his tongue. Danny moaned, his grip tightening at both sides of his neck, parting from Sam’s lips to mumble, “Want me to fuck your ass?” 

Sam’s knees buckled, Danny’s hand shooting from his neck to wrap around his middle again in support, a breathy humorless chuckle at the wanton reaction. 

Sam gulped, his eyes wide and dark as he opened them, fixing them on Danny’s face. “Fuck me,” he rasped, “Fuck me right into her pussy, Daddy.”

Danny’s nostrils flared, his jaw falling open, and he breathed so quiet against Sam’s lips, “Oh god-“

With your front row seat to their little show, you felt lightheaded with desire. Equally desperate as Sam to get Danny’s cock in his ass, you took it upon yourself to reach over to the nightstand, fumbling and grasping the bottle of lube and presenting it to Danny like a present. 

Danny took it with shaky hands, shooting you a fucked-out smile of thanks. You smiled back, biting your lip as Danny kissed Sam’s shoulder, then guided him forward overtop of you on his hands. 

Sam met your eyes as Danny flipped open the cap behind him, giving you a lazy, dirty grin. You smirked, taking one of his hands and using it to grope your breast. Sam’s fingers molded around the curve of it, licking his lips hungrily as Danny began slicking up his own cock. The slick wet noises got your heart racing with arousal, and Sam clearly felt it too, as he dove forward and captured your nipple between his pouted, kiss swollen lips. You gasped, burying your fingers in his silky hair as he sucked at you. 

You felt his groan acutely, vibrating sparks of pleasure to your core, as Danny’s lubed up fingers slipped between Sam’s cheeks. He pressed one finger inside Sam’s hole, not wasting any time and slipping in all the way in one smooth motion, and Sam abandoned your boobs as his mouth fell open with a loud, wanton moan, the side of his face smacking bonelessly against your sternum. 

Danny grunted lowly, eyes flickering between his finger encased in Sam’s tight heat and your disheveled faces, hair clinging to both your foreheads with sweat. 

He pumped his finger slowly in and out, then curled it towards the root of Sam’s cock, and the bassist whined, high-pitched and drawn out against your breast, “Fuuuuuuuuuck, Danny!” 

You stroked and pet Sam’s head as Danny slipped a second finger in alongside the first, fingering him a little faster and targeting that sweet little spot inside Sam’s body. High in his throat, Sam let out a choked cry, biting down gently into the flesh of your breast, making you hiss. 

Muffled around his mouthful of your boob, Sam weakly pleaded, “Please, baby, fuck me!”

Danny groaned at his begging, his eyes shooting closed as he bit his lip hard, rutting against Sam’s ass cheek. 

“You ready for me, pretty boy?” he rumbled. 

Sam sobbed out a quiet moan, nodding into your chest as he squeezed your tits in his hands, effectively smothering his blushing face in your cleavage. “Mhmm,” he mumbled. “Do it.”

Danny grasped himself, slapping his own slick cock against Sam’s wet, lubed up entrance a few times, before lining up and pressing his head past the tight ring of Sam’s hole. 

They both groaned in sync, Danny’s relieved, deep groan pairing harmoniously with Sam’s whimpered, pathetic, pleading one. The sounds they made, the visual of Danny’s pleasure-wracked face, the sweaty, submissive boy clinging to you like a shaking leaf, all of it reduced you to a feral, desperate mess of arousal. Pinned as you were beneath them both, you felt it as Danny rocked tentatively into Sam, pulling out and pushing in a little further with each thrust. Sam’s soft cries climbed up in register each time, until his voice sounded feminine and so deliciously submissive, you weren’t sure how Danny hadn’t already lost it and coated his walls already. You felt near the precipice of an orgasm as it was, and you’d hardly even been touched yet. 

Danny slowed his thrusts, his jaw clenching with restraint as he gripped Sam’s hips. He licked his lips and bent forward, his arm snaking around Sam’s waist again, and taking his leaking erection in hand. 

“Baby?” your boyfriend softly called, and you reached down readily, brushing his hand affectionately and helping him guide Sam’s cock to your entrance.

"Okay," you confirmed shakily. You were losing your mind, you felt so ready to be filled. 

Danny braced himself, and Sam flexed forward flexibly, allowing Danny to push forward into Sam, which in turn, pushed Sam fully into you, all in one slick smooth motion. 

“Sammy, fuck-“ your jaw fell open loosely, panting and bucking into him as Danny retreated them both and fucked back into you exploratively. 

Sam’s lips parted with a steady, unintelligible stream of filth, moaning and keening as Danny used him like his own personal toy, pushing and withdrawing from your soaking core in an uncoordinated, but incredibly erotic and nonetheless enjoyable dance. 

Slowly, with a bit of fumbling, the three of you found a rhythm that worked, similar to the first night, but instead of Sammy holding himself still and getting fucked from both sides, you and Danny limited your movements to a light rolling motion, and Sam rocked himself back and forth, both fucking himself into you, and back around Danny’s pulsing cock. 

“God Sammy- uh- fuck, so tight, babe,” Danny praised, his voice rough and strained through his pants. 

Sam whined, his shaking muscles driving his hips forward and back on pure, animal instinct. “Please, please please pleasepleaseplease…”

Danny’s grip on his hips tightened in response, and you and Sam both benefited when he used his leverage to guide Sam’s pelvis faster and harder, jerking his body back and forth between you and Danny like a game of sexual tug of war. 

Your mouth hung open loosely, losing your composure quickly as the combined physical pleasure, the angelic view of both god-like men above you, and the filth of the whole situation in general spurred you on. 

"I've never felt so fucking good in my life," Sam pathetically whined, "This was-" he gasped, "w-was all I could thing about, since the first time."

Danny moaned, his head tipping back as he drove himself deeper into Sam.

Sam was forced forward onto his elbows, and as he balanced himself, he looked up, making glazed-over eye contact with you. “Baby, I need you to cum, please fucking cum for me,” he choked out, begging you with his eyes, “His cock, it's so fuckin' good- ahh! I’m so fucking-“ he cried out a short jerky wail, “s-so fucking c-close, please.”

You wiggled your arm between your bodies, relieving the ache his words brought on with your fingers, cirling and rubbing frantically over your clit and nodding desperately, staring Sam in the eyes as your orgasm built. “Gonna-“ you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as Danny’s hips jerked hard against you both, “…gonna cum, you’re so good, such a good boy for us, Sammy, so good, just keep- don’t stop, Sammy, fuck-“ 

Danny reared back, slamming into Sam harder, earning a loud, unabashed cry of his name from Sam’s chest, and Danny growled animalistically, smacking Sam’s ass hard, twice, in quick succession. The sting of the slaps, and the subsequent tight squeeze to the abused flesh in Danny’s wide, veiny hand, sent you careening over the edge. 

Your desperate, high-pitched cries of ecstasy drew groans from both boy’s chests, and your trembling, clenching walls squeezing so tight around Sam’s cock as it was sent pumping unforgivingly into you, sent Sam over the edge right after you, his wet release pooling hot, forbidden and dirty inside you, his own cries washing over you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm.

Danny, despite his dwindling resolve to hold off, lost himself in Sam’s clenching, pulsing heat, and in the hazy chorus of his two lover’s combined sounds of pleasure, he gave into the pleasure and spilled, hard and hot into Sam’s tight wet walls with a groan that shook his chest. 

He barely held himself up long enough to slip carefully out of Sam, then collapsed at your side, completely spent. Sammy pulled out next, whimpering at the overstimulating drag against his sensitive, slowly softening cock, and rolled just slightly to the side, laying himself mostly still on top of you. 

Danny rolled himself weakly onto his side, not bothering to open his eyes as he panted, curling into your side and wrapping his arm over your tummy, holding you close to him. Sam’s knee hitched up over your hips, his calf resting between your thighs as he, too, caught his breath in the cavern of your neck. 

Your eyes drooped closed, your entire body feeling floaty and relaxed, the tension of the day, quite literally, fucked out of you. 

Sammy’s arm, draped over your ribcage, blindly groped for Danny’s forearm, curling his long fingers around it, and Danny hummed his appreciation quietly, his arm extending a little further against your stomach to squeeze his hand around Sam’s thigh. 

As you laid there, endorphins making your entire body feel light, buzzed, happy and safe, you smiled to yourself, simply existing in the moment, in this space between your favorite boys in the world. 

Sam lazily kissed your shoulder, nuzzling further into your skin as he sighed contentedly. Danny’s chin tucked against his chest, his mouth pressed into your hair while his soft, evened out breaths fanned it out gently. 

Danny broke the silence first, humming softly, the sound shifting to a soft groan as he stretched his legs down the bed, settling back into place. “That was… incredible.”

You smiled wide, eyes still closed as you hummed your agreement, turning just enough to nuzzle into his sweaty curls that clung to his forehead, pressing a loving kiss there.

Sam remained silent, which, even if you only knew Sam for ten minutes, you’d be acutely aware of how unusual that was. You looked down at him, unable to see his face from where it was buried in your shoulder, so you shifted up on your side, settling down little-spoon style against Danny’s chest as you scooted down to level with his face. 

You soothed a hand down his side, admiring the softness of his flawless skin and smiling fondly at his pretty, boyish face, which blinked up at you almost shyly. 

“No sassy remark?” you teased quietly, your eyes crinkling fondly as you reached up to cup his cheek. 

Sam grinned lopsidedly, lowering his gaze to the sheets beneath you, his fingers fiddling with a wrinkle in them. “Nah… I’m sure one’ll come to me, though.” 

You giggled under your breath, nodding lightly. “Good, good.”

His eyes lifted to yours, big and brown and sweet, more innocent than you’d ever seen him. He stole your breath for a moment, so stunningly perfect that you couldn’t quite fathom your own luck, to bask in his beauty. 

He smiled faintly under your enveloping, warm gaze, that crooked smile widening. “Hi,” he breathed, a soft chuckle following. 

“Hi,” you returned, quiet and affectionate.

Behind you, Danny leaned up on his shoulder, resting the side of his face against your cheek, both of you admiring him. 

Sam’s cheeks pinkened as he grinned shyly, “What?”

In an uncharecteristically shy move, Danny tucked his chin into your cheek, keeping his eyes on Sam as he kissed and mumbled against your cheek, “You’re so pretty, Sammy.”

The heat from Danny’s flushed cheeks mirrored Sam’s own blush, and Sam giggled quietly, wrinkling his nose as he lazily dismissed him with a swat of his hand. “Says the literal Greek God."

Danny giggled adorably, blushing harder and making your heart clench with love.

You wedged your hand under Sam’s other cheek, pulling his head toward yours and smiling as you kissed his lips softly. Sam melted into your gentle kiss, your hands on his face, accepting and returning the gentle affection. 

The moment you released him from the kiss, Danny leaned over you and tilted his chin up. He smiled, devastatingly sweet and handsome in your side-view of him, and he flickered his eyes from Sam’s curious gaze and his mouth, leaning forward and taking his turn at Sam’s lips. Sam kissed him back readily, his eyes fluttering closed. 

You continued to pet his cheek lovingly as they basked in the slow push and pull of each other’s lips, and as soon as they separated, you completed the triangle by capturing your boyfriends mouth, smiling happily against his lips. 

Danny pulled away after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open. He bit his lip, boyishly smiling between you and Sam, and you giggled softly, the laughter catching on as Sam chuckled, and soon the three of you were laying together in a heap of seratonin-high giggles. 

Calming down, you sighed happily.

Then Danny’s stomach growled. Loudly. 

Any semblance of peace was thrown out the window, all three of you dissolving into laughter again as Danny blushed and rolled onto his back. 

“Shut up,” he groaned, chuckling, “I haven’t eaten since nine this morning!”

Sam leaned up on his elbow, giggling at him, “Who’s fault is that, mr. come-in-for-a-drink?” 

You snorted and Danny’s jaw dropped playfully at him, “I was literally about to make lunch when you kissed me!”

You pursed your lips in a silent, ‘oooo!’, turning your gaze back to Sam in amusement. 

“Hey, nuh-uh, you kissed me first, Wagner,” he poked Danny’s shoulder with a sassy raised eyebrow.

You giggled, and Danny looked at you with wide disbelieving eyes, whispering, “He’s full of shit.” Turning to Sam, he repeated louder, “You’re full of shit!”

Sam snickered, shrugging and rolling on his back, lacing his fingers on his chest. “Whatever you say, kissy-pants.”

You snorted, “Kissy pants?” you rolled your head to face Sam incredulously. 

He grinned at you innocently, shrugging. 

Danny rolled his eyes and sat up, moving to climb off the bed. “You’re such a dork,” he said, affectionately exasperated as he grabbed a fresh pair of boxers from the dresser. Sam smirked shyly as he eyed Danny’s naked back, and subsequently blushed when you tapped the tip of his nose and winked, letting him know you caught him checking out his ass, then climbed off the bed and walked to the closet.

Sam smiled wide, despite the redness colouring his cheeks, and he kept his heart-eyes on your back as he answered Danny softly, “Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

Your face softened inside the cover of the closet, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt as you pulled a sundress off the hanger.

Danny’s hands paused within the drawer, a goofy smile making its way over his face as he distractedly pawed through shirts. “…Oh yeah?”

Sam hauled his boxers back on, biting his lip as he came up behind Danny, touching a shy hand to his side. Danny turned around, and you watched, smoothing your dress over your head from the doorway of the closet, as Danny pulled Sam’s hips flush to his. Sam grew endearingly flustered, his hands resting tentatively on Danny’s bare chest, as Danny brushed his nose against Sam’s. 

“Yeah,” Sammy murmured, looking up into Danny’s eyes, losing his breath. 

Danny playfully nipped at Sam’s lip before pecking a gentle kiss to his lips. 

He shyly kept his eyes trained on Sam’s mouth as he quietly returned, “Well I’m yours too.”

Sam chewed on his lip, and he turned his head searchingly in your direction, his face relaxing and softening fondly when he saw you, making your heart flush with affection and the reassurance you felt at his clinginess.

He held an arm out to you, and Danny smiled wider, nodding you over. You stepped into their arms, leaning your head on Sam’s shoulder. Out of your sight, Sam blinked down at the crown of your head in surprise, warmth spreading through his chest at how you’d subconsciously come to him just as readily as you came to Danny. 

Danny let his forehead lean against Sam’s again, and you straightened, kissing Sam’s cheek sweetly. Sam’s heart fluttered, overwhelmed with the double-teamed touches, and as he looked at you, still leaning the side of his forehead against Danny’s, he said quietly through the close space, “…I’m yours, too.” 

You brought your hands up to lace over his shoulder, lifting on your toes to kiss his cheek again, trailing your lips to his jaw and smiling shyly against his skin. “I’m yours too, baby,” you whispered. “I’m yours, just like I’m Danny’s.”

Danny nodded lightly, and Sam sucked on his bottom lip, eyes flickering between you both when he lifted his head straight. 

“So… uh,” he swallowed, blushing, then cracking into a bashful smile. 

You smiled wide at his shyness, tilting your head encouragingly. 

“What is it?” Danny reassuringly asked with a hand on his shoulder, thumbing at both his shoulder and at your hip subconsciously, a rush of warmth swirling in your chest. 

Sam rocked from the ball of his foot to his heels, playing off his shyness as his usual goofy playfulness. “Well, if I’m yours, and you’re mine, and I’m yours,” he nodded at you, grinning wider, “and you’re mine…” 

You giggled, raising your brows impatiently, “Yeah?”

Sam smirked at the floor, “Well, I was just thinking that, you know, that sounds a lot like I’m your guys’ boyfriend, doesn’t it?”

You felt your heart turning to a mushy puddle as the adorable question registered. “Oh,” you giggled breathlessly, certain your face was the picture of sappy joy.

Danny cooed quietly, nudging his hip sweetly against Sam’s. “It does, huh,” he nodded, matter-of-factly before cracking a wide grin. 

Sam shrugged one shoulder, his tongue poking in his cheek as he grinned to himself, nodding at the floor bashfully. When he lifted his gaze, he met your eyes, and your smile stretched even wider, grabbing his face and pulling him into a sweet, enthusiastic kiss. Sam cooed in surprise, immediately falling into the kiss and sighing against your lips. His hand came up to cup your cheek, holding you in place. 

Then Danny’s nose brushed against both your cheeks, squishing his way in and making you both separate and burst into giggles, Danny cracking up too. 

You giggled, “Wait, lets try, come back.”

Your boys’ smiling faces drew nearer again, and you wrapped your hands around the backs of their heads, pulling them into a short, strange, but cute little three-way kiss, pulling back from it with blushing cheeks and wide, bashful smiles. 

“Huh,” Danny nodded, shrugging. Sam’s eyes closed fondly as he dropped his head forward against Danny’s chest, his hand still smoothing back from your cheek into your hair, lacing into it and scratching affectionately. 

You leaned your head into Danny’s shoulder, feeling a surge of love when his strong arms wrapped around both you and Sam, holding you both into a tight hug. 

Softly, you mumbled into Danny’s upper arm, “Let’s go get some food.”

They hummed their agreement, two low, rumbly tones that felt very right together. 

Sam lifted his head then, grinning at the two of you and wiggling his eyebrows. “Our first date!"

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

>>>Chapter 6 >>>

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[b3-with-you]

as beautiful as ever

Pairing: Reiner Braun x fem!reader

Summary: With Hange’s plan to team up with a group of Marleyans, y/n is forced to meet up with an old friend- Reiner Braun- who for some reason, just won’t stop staring at her.

Warnings: season 4 spoilers; angst; mentions of death, depression(?); part 1/?

Word Count: 1k+

masterlist.

pt. 2

This is a bad idea.

Over and over again, that one thought raced through y/n’s mind- a nonstop current of anxiety and nerves. y/n tightened her grip on her sword, her body tensing with each step. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, her jaw clenching and unclenching.

“You don’t have to go.”

y/n turned her head towards the voice and was met with Mikasa’s soft eyes. She would always be eternally grateful for the woman next to her. The two had been taking care of each other since they were cadets, and as usual, Mikasa knew exactly what was on y/n’s mind.

“Yeah, I do,” y/n grimaced, her lips slightly turning to give Mikasa a sad smile. 

Pulling away from her gaze, y/n looked ahead to the others in front of her. They were trailing behind Armin and Annie, who very obviously had some sort of tension going on between them. Connie was slightly ahead of the group, keeping an eye on Gabi and Falco. They were on their way to find Reiner Braun, the man who completely shattered y/n’s heart.

It was stupid. The way she cared about him. It’s not like they ever dated or kissed or even told each other how they felt. In fact, nothing ever even happened between the two. They were comrades, two soldiers on a battlefield. Friends who so desperately wanted to become more. But they never did. Never even had a chance to. So how, y/n thought, how in the world could you lose someone that was never really yours? And why the hell did it hurt so much?

“This one!” Gabi ran inside one of the abandoned houses, Falco following behind her.

Approaching the building, y/n and Mikasa were the last to go through the door, with y/n silently preparing herself for the sight of the man she once called her best friend. As they stepped inside, Reiner’s sleeping body came into view, immediately stopping y/n in her tracks as her fists curled at her sides. Staring wide eyed at the blonde man, she could feel the tears pricking her eyes and her breathing getting shallower. Noticing y/n’s reaction, Mikasa softly bumped her shoulder to walk past her, subtly breaking y/n out of her trance. Snapping back into reality, y/n blinked away her tears. She was not going to let him control her like that. He didn’t deserve that power and he sure as hell wasn’t worth the tears.

Crossing her arms, she watched as Annie kicked him in the face, stirring him awake. Startled, he looked around, gasping in surprise at the sight of his old friend. Becoming aware of his surroundings, his gaze immediately traveled to the rest of the scouts until it eventually landed on y/n. His eyes widened in shock, a look of pure disbelief on his face. y/n.

She was as beautiful as ever. The wisp of her hair, the e/c of her eyes. He had almost forgotten what she looked like, the memories of her slowly fading from his mind. He hasn’t been able to see her face clearly since...since he attacked her in Shiganshina.

She looked different than he remembered. Her hair was shorter and her eyes were darker, as if someone had snuffed the light out. As if he had snuffed the light out. Reiner’s heart sunk at the thought. Of course it was his fault, he had caused her- them- so much pain, so much death. He was surprised he hadn’t been attacked yet.

The more Reiner stared, the angrier y/n got. Stop. Stop looking at me like that. She wanted to scream at him, stab him, rip his face off. She wanted to make him feel what she felt. Four years. Four years of healing and forgetting all tossed down the drain at the sight of his face, his hair, his body, his eyes. Those stupid, beautiful hazel brown eyes.

She hated him. She hated him for making her feel this way. The push and pull of hatred and love. Her head and her heart. She hated him because even after all the pain and killing and betrayal, there was still a sliver in her that cared.

“We don’t have time, let’s go,” Connie urged, causing Reiner to break eye contact.

“To where?”

“To save the world.”

─────

The ride to the woods was quiet for the most part. Gabi and Falco had tried updating Reiner on everything that he missed, the older man occasionally nodding and giving them murmurs of agreement. However, despite their efforts, he was more focused on the girl across from him, his gaze lingering on y/n the whole time.

She had tried not to notice him, keeping her eyes on the ground or the sky or just anywhere that wasn’t Reiner. She didn’t really care at first, but as time went on, the more annoyed she got with his burning gaze.

“Will you stop staring?” y/n asked, finally turning to face Reiner. “You’ve been doing it since the house, it’s getting annoying. If you want to stare at someone, stare at Connie.”

Connie looked up at the mention of his name, his face scrunching up in confusion. Under y/n’s gaze, Reiner finally turned away from her and focused his eyes on the wooden floor of the cart.

If the mood hadn’t been so tense, Reiner would’ve smiled. After everything, she was still the same old y/n- snarky and humorous and not afraid to speak up. It comforted him in a way. The fact that even after the suffering and misery, she hadn’t lost the parts that made her her. She wasn’t like him. She knew exactly who she was and for some God awful reason, it just made him love admire her more.

After that, Reiner didn’t even dare glance at her. He knew he passed his limit, examining every inch of her face. The shapes, the changes, everything that he thought he forgot. The angles of her jawline; the marks on her skin; the shadows of her face. He wanted to ingrain it in his head, replacing the once youthful and innocent face he knew with something much stronger. Much colder.

He wanted to remember her. Up until his last breath, he wanted to remember her. Every intricately sculpted detail, every perfectly alluring flaw. He didn’t want to lose her. Not again.

But he also knew how much he had hurt her, how much pain he had caused. So for now, this was enough. A picture painted in his mind of a girl in a wagon, her face stern and bitter. A face full of experience and knowledge and suffering.

Yet still as beautiful as ever.

[jerzwriter]

little ask because i love reading about ethan’s pov: what would ethan’s reactions/ thoughts be if he saw your mc’s face light up/ brighten immediately as she saw ethan enter the room? you can choose whatever timeline you like 💘

I went for the angst. 😏 Thanks for the ask, Mal!

Book:             Open Heart (Book 2 – after attack)

Pairing:          Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan)

Rating:           Teen +

Warnings: Traumatic situation; near death.

Category:      Angsty fluff

Summary:     Ethan is reeling in the aftermath of the attack, and only one thing brings him back home.

Words:            1476 @choicesmonthlychallenge - Flufftober - Always

Ethan Ramsey was a practical man, a man who believed in science. He put no stock in things like luck, faith, and omens. They were things of fables, stories to be told, but they had no place in his life. There were no good or bad days; there were merely days, and what each of us did within them would guarantee their outcome. That’s what he believed, or at least what he had believed, and was fighting to hold on to right now.

The past eighteen months had taken their toll. Losing Dolores, nearly lost Naveen. He made some foolish decisions… though he only regretted a few. And though he was loathe to admit it, he fell in love. While that would be joyful for most, for Ethan Ramsey, it opened a Pandora’s box of emotions he was not yet equipt to handle. So he wandered the frightening, unfamiliar terrain. Alone.

He loved her. He loved her. Yet he denied her time and time again, injuring her almost as much as he injured himself with each blow. Yet through it all, she never gave up. Not once. She never turned him away when she would be well within her rights to do so. His lip began to quiver.

“Good evening, Dr. Ramsey. Still here?” Maureen asked as he traipsed down the hall. 

A swallow and a nod were all he could manage, and she offered a sympathetic smile in return. They had been through so much in the past day, and it wasn't a time to pry. 

He clumsily grasped the doorknob on his office’s door. He had never been more eager to get inside, to be alone, to allow the darkness and silence to envelop him so maybe he’d finally have time to absorb, to feel, to think. He needed to think… but God, what would happen when he did?

He closed the door behind him and locked it shut, making no attempt to reach for the light. His tall frame collapsed against the hardwood, sliding slowly to the floor. He could no longer evade it. It was time to give in.

There is a cost to being a doctor. He had the ability to save lives, so the luxury of crumbling under pressure and allowing emotion to take control was not afforded to him. Not when a patient’s life was in the balance. Not when he needed to interrupt a parent lost in prayer for their child. And not when he watched in horror as the life slipped away of the woman he loved.

Kaycee.

His beloved Kaycee.

The one bright light he had found within an abysmal storm was being snuffed out before his very eyes.

He wanted to fall apart, and no one would have judged if he had. He longed to lash out and angrily berate a God he didn’t believe in, then dissolve into a heap of tears as he begged the same God for His mercy.

Please. Take him. Take anything but not her… not Kaycee. There was no way he couldn’t survive it if….

No.

He wasn’t allowed to go there. He was a doctor, she needed him, and failure wasn’t an option.

So the emotion was pushed down, deep down, as he worked in tandem with friend and enemy alike. He would have offered his soul to the devil himself if it gave Kaycee a chance to see the morning’s sun. That’s what mattered. Nothing more. 

He worked tirelessly through the night, only breaking to sit at her side. To hold her and offer a comfort and hope that he himself was failing to find, but he found it for her. He’d do anything for her. That’s what he told himself as he watched her slip away. Her rosy cheeks faded to gray, and the light in her eyes all but diminished. He knew the signs… they were losing… and without her…

So he talked to her. He spoke of all the things they had yet to do, the things they should have already done. He willed her to hold on, to fight. They’d find a way… he’d find a way… she had to hold on… he wasn’t letting her go. 

And when the sun’s first rays began to shine that morning, he didn’t know if God or man prevailed, and he’d save that deliberation for another day. He swore he saw the color rise in her the moment he slipped the needle into her arm, and she smiled. That smile… he never thought he’d see it… his heart skipped a beat; he couldn’t catch his breath.

She was going to make it.

She was going to survive!

He pulled her in his arms without a care in the world. She wasn’t the only one coming back to life.

“Kaycee,” he muttered, “before anything else, I have to say….”

“Ethan,” June belted from the door, “Mr. and Mrs. MacClennan are….”

She didn’t finish the words before they burst through the door and rushed to their daughter’s side, and Kaycee collapsed into the warmth and protection of her parent’s arms… and he smiled. A talk would need to be had, and the path forward needed to be defined, but right now, all that mattered was… she was safe. His Kaycee was safe, and tomorrow was no longer a dream.

So he left the room and trudged down the hall, exhausted and weak, the bottled emotions unable to be contained any longer. Maureen almost caught him, and he was sure she saw. Allowing him to enter his chamber unencumbered, to let his feelings finally flow, was a mercy he would be sure to thank her for in the days to come, but for now… he wept. 

He wept for the poor decisions of the past and the time they had lost. He cried over the ordeal she had endured and the road that lay ahead. His body shook as his mind absorbed how close he came to losing her, and he wished more than anything that he was at her side right now. But to the world, he was her boss, a friend at best. No one knew that she was the one thing that made his heart sing, the only person who ever ignited his soul and made him long to be the man they both knew he could be.

His Kaycee.

He’d do anything to be with her now, but he hadn’t earned that right. He’d have to wait patiently like she had waited for him. He had to be strong. 

A loud knock at the door startled him. He wiped his face on his sleeves, no longer caring if someone saw his pain. He had witnessed the gates of hell. Though he was tired and would need to collect himself from this trauma, there was one thing he was no longer do -  he could no longer hide.

“Dr. Ramsey,” a small voice spoke. “She’s asking for you. Kaycee wants to see you.”

“Uh… Dr. Trinh, shouldn’t she be resting?”

The tiny doctor, diminutive only in size, crossed her arms and sized him up accordingly. 

“Ethan. I haven’t forgotten our conversation, and I’m not letting you off the hook. Go to her! She needs you… and I’m pretty sure you need her, too.”  

With tears in his eyes, he silently nodded and turned to walk to her room. Though he could barely wait to see her again, he was filled with worry and fear. Would she forgive him for his past mistakes? Did she still want him? Or would facing death have given her the clarity to move on? Would her parents take one look at him and realize… and if they did, what would they see? Adrenaline was gone, and exhaustion was setting in, his legs barely carried him to the door – but he’d walk in this condition for miles if that’s what she needed.    

Kaycee was reclined on the bed when he entered the room, and while her ordeal was clearly etched on her face, he was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. She weakly turned her head away from her mother and caught Ethan’s eyes, then her face went aglow. The creases on her brow melted away, and her quivering lips formed a smile. The light he watched fade once again shone brightly in her eyes, and she ignited his heart with just one look. 

She would later tell him that she could never forget that moment. The breath of relief that escaped his chest, the smile on his face, or the undeniable love in his eyes. No words were needed; she knew her forever belonged to him at that very moment.

When she asked what he felt, he said his heart had finally found its way home, and he knew he would never be foolish enough to leave again.

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[ramzawrites]

requesting an angsty fic where reader is schlatts kid and they have the same features as him, namely the horns so people avoid them because of what schlatt did, it leads to reader hating their horns and cutting them off/ ripping them out and someone finds them crying, covered in blood with their horns just on the ground or smth, set after schlatts death btw

A Painful Reminder - Dad!Schlatt and Reader - Part 1

Part 2

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Niki, (mentioned) Schlatt, (mentioned) Techno

Warnings: self harm (destroying own horns with a blunt object), mention of blood, abondenment, depression, cursing

Series: an angst request!

Summary: Y/N is the child of Schlatt and after his death tried their best to deal with the grief. Hoping to connect with people only to painfully realize that their horns are a painful reminder to everyone for Schlatt’s rule and therefore try to stay as far as possible from them.

Words count: 2428

Authors Note: I hope this is fine! I struggled a bit with it and I think you can tell, I apologize for that. I’m honestly not that good with angst but if you enjoy it I’m happy!! Please give me feedback on how to get better at angst :o

I love you guys and please take care of yourself 💙

After Schlatt died and Pogtopia effectively won the war against Manberg only for the nation to get blown up by Wilbur, the people tried their best to rebuild with the help of Tubbo as the new president.

There was a new sense of hope that swept through the nation. They all suffered greatly to get to this place but this was a turning point for most. A time for healing. A time for rebuilding what was lost. A time for grief.

While Y/N spent most of their time building up their own home inside L’Manberg, they were struggling a lot with grief.

They mourned for the loss of the only parent they had in their life, Schlatt.

The president of Manburg, the tyrant that died surrounded by his enemies inside a van. The only parent of Y/N.

The relationship between the two was complicated to say the least. Deep inside they still loved their father but he brought so much pain and even bloodshed on people that they couldn’t in good conscience support him.

For the longest time they tried their best trying to persuade him, that he would change his way but he never listened. Either too full with his own ego or too drunk to care. The last straw that broke the camel’s back for Y/N was when Schlatt ordered Tubbo’s execution.

The emotions they felt while they yelled and wailed at Schlatt to stop this madness was still fresh in their mind whenever their thoughts lingered back to that day. Quackity had to  physically restrain and pull them back on Schlatt’s orders.

It was the moment they realized that there was no way for them to reach Schlatt anymore. He was set in his way and nothing could change that.

After their death to Technoblade’s blood lust during the festival, they ran away and spoke with Tommy. Y/N didn’t want to kill Schlatt but they saw in Pogtopia a chance to stop him. Make him see what he has done. Make him responsible for his actions.

Only this never came to pass. Schlatt died inside a dirty van. A heart attack or a stroke. Y/N didn’t know, nor did they care. He was dead either way.

While everyone was rebuilding and trying to fall back into a normal day to day life. Y/N was lost. They didn’t feel particularly close to anyone nor did the other seem to trust them. Their eyes were always drawn towards Y/N’s horns resting on their head.

During Schlatt’s rule they became somewhat of a symbol. A symbol for himself, for pain, for blood, for tyranny. So when Y/N walked around town the others couldn’t help but stare at these oh so similar horns that reminded them of a past best forgotten.

It made Y/N unsure of themself. It was a physical proof of their connection to their father. It was a double edged sword. In the past they loved that they inherited similar Hybrid traits like their father but now it was the reason why everyone seemed to avoid them.

The people wanted to move on but these damn horns pulled them back whenever their eyes fell on them. Y/N wasn’t stupid. They noticed this pretty fast.

Hell, if anything the funeral was the best proof for that. Bad tried his best to keep everyone under control and have a proper funeral but everyone was too busy celebrating. Talking about stealing his bones. Destroying a picture of him.

All while Y/N sat in the back. They had hoped they could use this funeral as a way to finally say goodbye, let go off the pain and regret but all this chaos just made them realize that the people will never properly accept them due to their relation with Schlatt.

Schlatt may have put all of the people through a horrible and unforgivable time but he effectively snuffed out any chance for Y/N to live a normal life between these people. This legacy of his for Y/N stung almost deeper than all the time he insulted them or flat out ignored them. It made them wonder if he ever realized what he did to his own child. Even if he did Y/N wasn’t sure he cared enough to do anything about it.

Y/N wrung their hands as they stood in front of Niki’s and Puffy’s flower shop. The money ready in their hands so this transaction could happen faster but even so they were too nervous to step in.

After some mental pep talk they finally slowly pushed the wooden door open. To their horror it begun creaking which made them wince. There was no way Niki hasn’t noticed them walking in seeing how she stood at the counter but still Y/N didn’t want to put more attention on themself than they absolutely had to.

“Oh.” Was all Niki said. She almost sounded disappointed. Y/N realized that she probably would have happily greeted anyone else coming into the shop but them.

Their eyes were glued to the ground. As they suddenly became overly aware of their horns, it felt like their weight increased immensely. Almost as if they tried to press down on Y/N. It made them feel as small and worthless as possible under the gaze of other people.

Y/N put the money on the counter as soon as they reached it “A full bouquet of purple hyacinth, please.”

“Alright.” Niki immediately moved away in order to make the bouquet ready. Though Y/N didn’t watch, they were now staring at the wood of the counter. Following he natural lines of it with their eyes as they patiently waited.

After a few minutes Niki placed the flowers in front of Y/N which pulled them out of their thoughts and made them look up. Niki forced a smile on but she still looked almost stern. Soft crevices building up as her eyebrows formed a painful frown.

“This is too much.” Niki begun pushing some of the money back towards Y/N but they shook their head.

“It’s a tip.”

Picking the flowers up into their arms they tried to put on a genuine smile before turning around to walk out of the shop.

Before they exited the shop they could hear Niki say a soft “Thanks.”

That was basically how every conversation with anyone went. Only short and the most necessary words. At first Y/N tried to start genuine conversation but they soon noticed how the others wouldn’t react. Just trying to get as fast as possible through this conversation. Their eyes always directed on Y/N’s horns.

After Y/N placed the flowers in front of Schlatt’s grave, like they did every week, they made their way towards the river.

Sometimes they would spend their time there since it’s a bit farther away from the city, so it was rare to see someone else hanging out there. Y/N mostly used this place to fish in peace. If they fished anywhere near the others their stares and frowns weighed too heavy down on them.

As they sat at the bank of the river, preparing their fishing line, their eyes fell unto their own reflection.

Dark circles adorned their eyes from their countless restless nights. Only falling asleep after hours of crying.

They couldn’t help but put the blame on their horns. Their god damn horns. Y/N hated them. Hated them so much. What would their life be like without them? Would the others still eye them so incredibly cautiously? Would they give Y/N a chance? After all Y/N was vocal about the fact that they didn’t support any of Schlatt’s decisions. For the longest time they tried to help the others through the hard times!

Yet, now as he was dead, they only showed Y/N the cold shoulder. If it wasn’t Y/N themself then the reason has to entirely lay on the horns. It was a too strong reminder of Schlatt.

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips. Tears now falling down their cheeks onto the green grass. No one was around so they didn’t mind crying loudly like this.

It was just so unfair. They did everything they could and yet all they reaped was disdain from the people and in a sick twist Y/N couldn’t even fault them for it. Whenever they saw their own reflection, their own eyes would be drawn to their dark horns after all.

Back in the day they were always happy looking at them but now they were the reason for Y/N being abandoned by everyone. They used to be somewhat good friends with Quackity due to his position as Schlatt’s Vice President and even he ignored them as soon as Schlatt was dead.

They had no one and at fault were these stupid, ugly horns.

Y/N let the fishing rod fall to the ground as they continued staring at their reflection. Trembling as they sobbed. Feeling so lonely with no way out.

What could they do? Put on a hat? There is no hat big enough to hide their horns. No, the horns had to go. There was no other way.

Shakily their hand snaked through the grass towards the water. Slowly submerging it into the ice cold liquid as the hand continued searching for something. As their hand landed on a stone that fit perfectly in their palm they held it in front of their face. Inspecting it.

As if to test it they softly tapped the stone against the tip of their horn. Their head moving with it. It felt weird. It didn’t hurt, of course, but it was still a weird feeling as the soft vibration traveled through it.

Letting out a shaky breath they reached back with their arm. The stone in an iron grip.

They hated this.

They hated everything about this but what could they possibly do? What could they do to get a proper chance at a normal conversation with Niki while buying flowers? A proper chance to talk with Quackity again, the man who was right there with them as all the bullshit happened.

All they wanted was a real chance to connect with people.

Y/N let out a sobbing scream as the stone collided with their horn, ripping off a good part of the tip.

It softly splashed into the water. Getting stuck between rocks, slowly rocking with the water stream.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” They stammered between sobs as they once again pulled their arm back in order to strike the horn again.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Their arm and hand hurt from constantly colliding with the hard material. A huge headache was now spreading through their head as they were sitting between broken pieces of what used to make up their horn.

But they weren’t done yet. The other side had to go as well.

With every new blow their whimpers would increase as well. At first a result of their hopelessness but it soon turned into an expression of pain. But they couldn’t give up. They had to keep going.

They had to get rid off this legacy Schlatt left them with.

After a particularly harsh blow they suddenly felt something warm slide down the side of their head.

Letting the stone fall down onto the ground they frantically stared at their own reflection in the water. It was blood.

Shocked they let out a shaky laugh. As much as it hurt and was horrible to look at, there weren’t any rest pieces of the horn resting on their head. So they picked the rock back up and with a blood curdling scream they slammed it into the other horn again, trying to get rid of the rest properly.

And it worked.

They were light headed from the pain, bleeding and crying but the horns were gone.

They were finally free of the curse.

“Finally.” They mumbled to themself only to finally take the time to rest and cry. They cried their god damn heart out. It was as if all the stress from the last couple of months finally jumped off their back.

Y/N’s back hit the soft ground as they slammed back, staring at the leaves up above them. Dancing with the wind and only occasionally giving away to the sun that was shining down on them.

Dark red blood staining the green grass. Their eyes growing heavier the more they continued to cry and hyperventilate. This pain is nothing. From this point on everything has to get better. It has to.

There was an audible gasp.

It wasn’t Y/N but they were too tired to look where it came from.

“Y/N? What the hell did you do? What happened? By Ender you are bleeding!” it was a male voice. Quackity? They weren’t too sure. Too delirious to tell.

Strong hands fell on their arms and pushed them up in a sitting position. Their head rolled back and they finally looked into Quackity’s pale face. So, they were right after all.

One of his arms went around their back in order to hold the crying Y/N upright as he took a better look at the wounds.

“I have to get you to someone who knows how to make healing pots. Maybe regeneration? Hell if I know. Did you do this? Your hands are covered in blood.” He was frantic.

Y/N shakily moved their hands up in order to grab Quackity’s hand that was holding their head in place and pushed it away from them, smearing his hand with their own blood “Don’t worry. I freed myself. The horns are gone. Now, you guys don’t have to be reminded of him anymore. We can all finally live in peace. No more reminders to him.”

Quackity’s eyes widened. His mouth opened up in an expression of pure shock. He hated that he could tell immediately what they meant exactly. After the war he did avoid them as much as he could. As Y/N said they, or rather their horns, reminded him too much of Schlatt and he needed time to heal but he never imagined this could lead to this.

He felt incredibly guilty. Realizing that he never really thought about what everyone’s behavior did to Y/N.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll find a way to help you.” His arm went under Y/N’s legs and with some straining he managed to get back up, holding them in his arms. Y/N leaned their head against Quackity’s chest, staining it with their blood in the process.

“See. It’s already working.” They whispered just before passing out.

“Fuck.” Quackity had to find someone who knew how to heal them as soon as possible. Jogging back into the city calling frantically out for help.

[ayamturd]

light│foolish g

summary: the eggpire attempts to manipulate the heart of a kindled lover, their own mistake in the making

warnings: mentioned kidnapping, injury descriptions, evil c!badboyhalo, angst to fluff

pairing: (requested) in-game foolish gamers

a/n: i tried to play with themes of light and darkness, just as a small visual insight :)

wc: (2.7k) - m.list

It was too dark, he noted. You didn’t like the house being dark. 

The second thing he noticed was the silence. There was no crackling fire, no greeting or even the stir of your footsteps inside the usual cozy house. Instead it was cold and empty, like the life had been snuffed and the warmth it once radiated suddenly gone in a broken still. Like it had been taken. 

“Y/n?”

Pushing the door open, Foolish immediately became on edge from the broken lock, it swinging open in a haunting manner that echoed throughout the house. He raised his axe while tightening his grip, and slowly, he crept his way around the living space, searching for any sign that you were there or at the very least okay. 

“Y/n? Love? Where are you?” 

He checked the bedroom, the bathroom, the chest rooms, everything. Nothing was out of place, yet it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Scanning each room at a glance, he started to become frantic from the realization. You weren’t here.

“Y/n!”

As he started to pace in worry with growing, erratic breaths, he noticed he forgot to check the kitchen, bolting through the small doorway in desperation for any clues to your whereabouts.  Once entering, however, it only worsened his fears.

The kitchen was a mess; from broken glass scattered on the ground to the spilt stew you promised to make tonight, there were signs of an obvious struggle, and one that you must of lost. 

Walking slowly into the room, Foolish stood in the middle, his footsteps crunching under the shattered dish ware. He could only stare in horror to the scene before him, the unexpected attack within your own home. 

He began to shake, in fear or anger, he didn’t know. All that he knew was that he was terrified for you, of your state, your condition, where you were. He didn’t have the answers he needed and it started to boil a new found rage in the pit of his soul, something he never knew he could have felt in thought of you.

Before he could become completely lost to his own thoughts, something bright shone in the corner of his vision. It was small and lost under the fragments, but it reflected the brief moonlight that peeked through the window still. Foolish crouched down, and as he swiped the broken mess away, he let out a small gasp.

It was your necklace, one he had given to you as a gift near the beginning of your relationship. The small pendent, while old and rough, was an old crystal he found eons ago; he was fascinated with the object when he first discovered it, and as a symbol of his love, chose to gift it to you on your first anniversary.

Although discolored from age and time, the crystal had always held some sort of clouded transparency. Unlike its usual form, Foolish held the pendent up and saw a dark stain of red tainting the side, almost in a corrupt manner as it seeped inside the stone in cracked veins. 

The color was too bright to resemble any spilt blood, and with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, Foolish seethed at the concluding answer. “Bad,” he growled. 

Closing his fist around the charm, he clenched it tightly and raised it to his forehead. The one piece of him you had, now the only thing he had of you. 

He was going to get you back, no matter what it took. 

“You can’t do this, Bad.” Pulling against Punz’s hold, you tried to throw hands at Bad with a snarl. He only chuckled at your attempts, his once sweet tone now malicious and stern. 

“The less you resist, y/n, the easier this will be for us all.” 

Your hands were tied behind your back, the rope burning against your skin, rubbing raw from your constant movements to free yourself. Punz had his arms under yours, locking you against his chest and preventing you from moving your upper body; even then, it did nothing to stop your attempts to thrash as much as possible.

Punz grunted from the hard kick you landed behind at him, your legs fierce as they moved every which way. Antfrost stepped forwards to help control you, though it was his mistake to approach you cautiously from the front since you kicked him in the face with a large crack following after.  

He fell back with a painful yelp, clutching his broken snout that oozed blood and paralleled the red veinage surrounding his eyes. While you internally celebrated your direct hit with pride, it faded when Bad began to laugh.

“Don’t you see now, Y/n?” As he began stalking towards you, Punz learned from his mistake and hooked his own leg around yours, pulling it back so you were further locked it place. You were helpless as Bad leaned into your face with an amused grin. 

“You’re a fighter. Someone that understands the weaknesses of others and how to exploit them. With us, you could discover your own potential and fight for the things that truly matter.”

You hissed at his proximity and cruel intent. “Why the hell would I join an omelette that does nothing but turn you all into brainless puppets.”

Bad laughed again, though forced before shifting into a frown. “We are anything but puppets. We are visionaries chosen to light the way for a new age that calls for freedom and peace. A world with no wars, no loss, and no pain. Only the Egg.”

He turned again, his back facing towards you as he looked ahead. Tilting his head slightly, he smiled sadistically to the thought. “Why don’t we show you?” 

With wide eyes, you yelled and fought harder against Punz. It didn’t matter how pathetic or futile your efforts would be in the end, you screamed viciously to his plan; you would be damned if you were to go near that thing and let it corrupt you like it did to those around you. You refused.

“We’ll make you understand, y/n. Don’t you worry now.”

It had been a while since Foolish last stepped foot in the Badlands. As he mainly stayed within his own land and frequented to Snowchester for his recent commission, he hadn’t seen how bad the landscape had become for some time now. 

There were vines littered everywhere; they broke through the ground and wrapped around everything they could, the previous builds constructed now ruins under the untamed growth. 

The infection worse than he could ever imagine. 

Like the land was corrupted itself, the once blue sky barely shined through the dark, thick clouds that surveyed the surrounding area as the grass’ usual lively, green hue looked almost dead from the sight. It was as if the land had been drained of its life form entirely. 

With a shake of his head, Foolish pushed forwards despite the unfortunate outcomes. You were his main and only concern, and he was coming for you. 

Following the growing trail of vines, he stopped once finding himself faced with an opening in the ground, the vines encompassing the entire area all centering to this one focal point. 

The hole was dimly light, yet in spite of the notable metal lanterns nailed to the cavern walls that lit the descending path underground, Foolish could hear the whispers of an ancient being shrouded in a sensation that could only be described as darkness. Pure darkness that’s sole intent was to demoralize and expand. 

As his own power centered essentially to a form of life in terms of rebirth, Foolish felt his heart race from the opposing force; Death is often seen as the opposite stage to Life, however in actuality, Corruption and Decay hold more differences than the former, for Corruption seeks out to invade and overtake, leaving little room for life to breathe in its natural state as it’s smothered degenerately. Death is painful as a concept, but only works as an end of a cycle that leads to a new one instead. 

His strive to reach you was stronger than ever, and with that he entered the small space. 

“So nice of you to finally join us!” Bad’s voice echoed against the cavern walls, his voice too cheery for Foolish’s liking. Pushing away the overhanding vines that blocked his line of vision, Foolish approached the group with an aggravated attitude. 

Standing in front of the Egg, Bad stood at the center with Antfrost and Punz accompanying his sides. While Foolish went in with a vengeful mentality, all thoughts left him as soon as he saw you. 

You were completely wrapped in the thick, twisted vines, forced onto your knees as the branches covered your body up to your neck. Singular vines were crawled up your head, forming a make-shift halo that encircled your face with obvious pressure on your temples. 

Sitting below at Bad’s feet, you occasional would wince in slight pain yet your eyes remained fixed wide open. They were empty and tinted red, a hollow shell of who you were as you fought for control over your own mind. 

Foolish snarled at the physiological torture, and turned to Bad in full anger.

“Let them go, Bad. They don’t deserve any of this.” Bad chuckled darkly at the demand and raised his arms upward. 

“Deserve any of what? Freedom? Power? A chance to protect all those they love?” Reaching down, Bad mockingly began to stroke your head, and you flinched from his demeaning touch.

Foolish took a singular step forward, his trident pointed threateningly at the audacity he had to both harm and touch you.

“You and I both know that that thing,” Foolish emphasized while turning to point his weapon condemnatory towards the massive egg, “doesn’t do anything but corrupt and spread lies.”

The air grew stiff as a forced silence overtook the room. Bad sighed dramatically, his actions imposing as he showed little care for Foolish’s anger and comment. Crossing his arms, Bad shook his head dismissively with a disappointed frown.

“We knew you would be one of the most difficult to convince.” Foolish froze, confused to his connotations, making Bad smile further. He gestured behind him, and leaned his head forward with a merciless smirk.

“Which is why the Egg demands for y/n more than you think.”

Foolish looked down in seething fury, the thought that you were taken and used as a pawn for his own compliance something inadmissible and unforgivable. He breathed out a humorless snicker, and lifted his eyes up with his head still bowed down.

“Did you really think you could get me to join you,” he lowly asked, his eyes starting to emit a harsh, green glow, “by taking the one person I center my world around?”

He held his own smirk at the growing fear the three began to show, them stepping back as he felt the familiar warmth of power overtake him. Only this time, the light burned like near fire from his manifested rage. 

“Think again.”

There was no time to run or attack as Foolish radiated a blinding light, his body shifting as he changed before them from his mortal to Godly form. By the time the light had subsided and the ever so mighty Eggpire could open their eyes from the jarring glow, it was too late for them already. 

Foolish was pushed against the cavern ceiling from his extreme height and size, though it didn’t matter for all he needed were his hands as he began swatting at them. He managed to throw Antfrost against the farthest wall, the collision knocking him out cold as he slumped over immediately.

Punz, like the mercenary he is, managed to evade Foolish’s attacks and tried to climb his figure for leverage. It was his mistake, however, as Foolish grabbed him by the ankle during his vulnerable ascent and swung him across the space. A sickening snap from his throw lead him to scream in agony, his arm bent awkwardly under him from the severe fall damage. He too passed out from the pain. 

Lastly, Bad could only cower at the man’s wrath, the golden figure pausing to face him in his entirety, saving his final, overwhelming outrage for the leading assailant. 

As he raised his fist to strike him down, however, Bad grew desperate and reached for his best bargaining tool: you. 

He rushed forward and unsheathed his sword, holding it strictly to your throat while you unconsciously grimaced from the cool of the blade. Foolish was forced to freeze his movements.

“Accept it Foolish, you can’t win against the Eggpire. We are the new age. Join us, and you can continue living your lives,” Bad looked down at you with an overly sweet smile, “together.”

Foolish was hesitate and nervous. He refused to back down in knowing fear you would suffer the consequences of his surrender, yet at the same time, your life was hanging in the fate of his next decision. Faltering his gaze at Bad, he glanced up and paused, a new idea, a new option making way. 

Slowly, he leaned down to grab a massive boulder, the vines wrapped around the broken stone snapping as he pulled on it. Bad saw through his intentions and panicked, his sword falling from your neck as he began to cry out. 

“Wait- NO! Foolish you can’t!” Completely ignoring Bad’s pleas, Foolish launched the large rock at the Egg. 

“Foolish, NO DON-”

The air hissed from the impact, and a force pushed all back as the Egg cracked open with a dying cry, the sound a high pitch ringing as it wailed from the strike. It smelled awful, to say the least. Like rotten flesh that was burned for an extended period of time, the fowl odor pervaded the cavern in a red mist. 

As the cloud briefly settled, the visible damage to the Egg became more clear; it was caved in where the boulder was thrown, the inside a glowering, black tint that radiated heat when exposed to the open air. The whispers were now screaming voices, loud cries that shouted over each other. Foolish winced from the overwhelming sound, but as quickly as it came, they fell painfully silent seconds later. 

While there was no visible light that transpired once the Egg was impacted, the underground room felt somehow brighter. Like a dark shadow now removed, the shift of light brought forth a true feeling of peace and quiet, as if the buzzing temptations were suddenly removed, if only for a temporary moment.

Bad seemingly collapsed the moment the Egg was injured, his sword falling with a clang as he fell unconscious besides you. Without pause, Foolish transfigured to his original form and rushed to check on you. 

He scrambled onto his feet once collapsing back into his moral height and instantly checked you over, pulling the dead, shriveled vines off you before gently bringing you into his lap while holding a hand to your cheek. 

“Y/n?” he murmured. Your skin was warm to the touch, and Foolish continued to stroke your face in his attempts to awake you. “Y/n? Please, please wake up.”

Suddenly, you stirred from his words, and slowly blinked your eyes open. Your eyes were squinted in a haze, your sight fuzzy until Foolish came into clear view. “Foolish?”

He let out a laugh of relief, his eyes wet as tears collected from the immense amount of joy that overcame him. Pulling you into his chest, he cradled your head and kissed the top of it earnestly, his eyes shut close as his tears escaped. “Hey there,” he whispered. 

Pulling away from you, his grin met your tired one as you smiled softly, hand raised to wipe his fallen tears. “Hey you.”

“Welcome back,” he giggled, his emotions running high from the reassurance that you were within his arms and you were safe. He beamed to the point where his cheeks hurt from how wide they pulled. 

You gripped his hand on your own cheek, squeezing it as your form of security that this was your reality, that it was real and he was actually here. Two rekindled loves reunited once more, you both gleamed in each other’s warmth and luminescent love.

“Glad to be back.”

[helaintoloki]

Everybody Loves Somebody

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: slight language, themes of insecurity, angst, pining, slow burn (kinda?), eventual fluff, over 5k words in length

notes: it’s finally finished! this took forever but I swear I put my entire soul into making this as perfect as it could be. I’ve never used this format before in my writing and it was challenging but also super fun so hopefully you guys like it :) (also yes the title and the fic somewhat is inspired by the Dean Martin song)

summary: Thrown into a blind date against his will, Bucky does his best to prepare in the days leading up to Saturday night, a feat that proves to be much more difficult than expected thanks to his neighbor across the hall.

Sunday

Three quick raps on the apartment door force Bucky to kick back the covers and sluggishly rise from his spot on the floor. He’s exhausted, but his recognition of the evenly spaced knocks on the wooden frame has him feeling compelled to answer, and so he does. Too tired to notice the television is still droning on in the background, Bucky idly wraps his discarded blanket around his form to shield his vibranium arm before opening the door to greet the old man standing on the other side.

“Rough night, huh?” Yori greets with a knowing smile.

“Something like that,” he replies with a tired, lopsided grin. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I set you up on a date,” the man says casually, as if setting Bucky up on dates without his knowledge and against his will is a common every day occurrence, and it is. “Saturday evening at six.”

“What— A date? Yori—“

“She’s a nice girl, very pretty. I think you’ll like her.”

“Now hang on a minute,” Bucky tries to interject, but Yori is already halfway down the hall before the super soldier can get another word in.

“You’re meeting her at the Italian place down the street!” Yori calls behind him. “She likes sunflowers!”

The old man’s shouts are sure to have woken up the entire fourth floor by now, but Bucky is too busy trying to process the jumble of information that has been thrust upon him so suddenly and so early in the morning to care. The last date Yori had sent him on had ended in disaster; Bucky wasn’t ready to get back out on the field, a stable relationship wasn’t in the cards for him. Surely no one in their right mind would stick around once they found out the truth about the man, and if they did it would only be a matter of time before the constant nightmares and extra baggage that came with dating the ex-Hydra assassin sent them running for the hills. But Yori meant well, Bucky knew that, and he also knew he owed the man more than he could ever give him in return, so if sitting through another painfully uncomfortable date would make him happy, then Bucky would just have to suck it up, put on the nicest shirt he owned, and charm his way through another awkward dinner.

“Sunflowers,” he grumbles to himself, quietly shutting the door before returning to his spot on the cold hardwood floor.

Monday

Monday mornings are gym mornings, early workouts that start at five and end at seven. He promptly returns to the apartment building at seven thirty, eight if he stops for breakfast, then goes to check the mail before heading back to the comfort of his sheltered apartment. He doesn’t receive much other than grocery coupons and an odd letter from the government every now and then, but he’s been told that a routine is good, it’s healthy, so on Monday mornings at seven thirty—or eight— Bucky pulls out his keys and opens his assigned metal box with a sense of indifference.

It’s eight o’clock on this particular morning, and with a half finished cup of coffee in hand the soldier opens the little metal compartment to find nothing other than stray specks of dust and the tiniest of spiderwebs in the top right corner of the box. It’s a familiar sight, but Bucky has learned not to let it bother him by now. Remember James, it has nothing to do with you, his therapist always said. You have to learn not to take things personally.

“It has nothing to do with me,” Bucky murmurs quietly before finally shutting his mailbox with a sigh. Coffee cup discarded in the nearby trash can, Bucky turns to make his trek towards the elevator only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of a beautifully familiar face.

Your name is y/n, you live on the fourth floor, and for someone reason you’re always covered in glitter. You’re on your way out the door, art supplies held clumsily in your grasp just begging to jump free from your hold, and despite the rush you seem to be in you still greet the man with a polite smile.

“Good morning,” you chime, honey coated voice filled with warmth and kindness for the stranger. Bucky simply gives you a halfhearted smile in return, watching you walk out the door and wishing he could just muster up the courage to speak to you.

You won the soldier’s heart the day you knocked on his door to drop off a “welcome to the neighborhood” casserole. It had only been his second day in his new apartment, and while he knew some of the other tenants were weary of the mysterious man with the thousand yard stare who had decided to call the building a home, you never once seemed to bat an eye at Bucky or his closed off nature. He had been a little short with you upon your first meeting, his anxiety coming off as annoyance, but still you wore that same kind smile of yours and assured him that if he ever needed anything you’d be happy to help. You were a kind person with a big heart, and Bucky didn’t want to chance snuffing out one of the few lights left in the world, so he let you be. Admiring you from afar was all he let himself have of you, and that was it.

Though, Bucky would be lying if he said you didn’t come across his mind every once in a while. He wondered what you were like, what music you listened to, how you liked your eggs in the morning, if you were an old soul or young at heart, if you’d ever let yourself fall into in the arms of a broken man and help pick up the pieces. It was a pipe dream, but sometimes a friendly smile from you in the morning was enough to get Bucky through an entire day. He hadn’t been with anyone in years, and while he didn’t think he was ready to get back out on the dating scene just yet he knew that if you asked him to he’d take the plunge in a heartbeat. You were an angel, and Bucky would never be able to bring himself to taint you with his touch.

Monday mornings are workout mornings, but they’re also mornings with you.

Tuesday

On Tuesday afternoons Bucky often finds himself in the company of Yori, ensuring the old man stays out of trouble and going out of his way to make sure his newest friend has a nice day out on the town. It isn’t much, and it never will be, but it’s enough for now, at least until Bucky can find the courage to tell the father just what exactly happened to his son on that fateful night. But until then, sushi for lunch will have to do.

He makes his usual trek to the man’s apartment, stomach already beginning to rumble at the prospect of a nice crunch roll, but Bucky’s hunger is soon replaced with nerves at the sight of the woman standing in Yori’s doorway.

You look pretty today, hair haphazardly styled in your rush out the door this morning, colorful stains of dry paint adoring your hands that clutch a bundle of books close to your chest, and a dangly pair of earrings that glint underneath the sunlight pouring through the hallway windows. There’s a smile on your face as you nod along to something Yori says that doesn’t quite register in the soldier’s jumbled thoughts, and the two of you are both too engrossed to notice his lingering presence standing just a few feet away.

“Thank you so much for lending me these. The kids keep me on my toes and I haven’t had any time to settle down with a good book so these were perfect,” you utter gratefully, handing off the pile of poetry books to Yori’s awaiting hands. Names of authors that Bucky doesn’t recognize catch his eye, just as his friend finally catches his presence.

“Of course. I have more if you’re ever interested,” he says before finally addressing the elephant in the hallway. “James, there you are. I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it.”

Bucky stiffens at the sound of his name, heat immediately crawling up his neck as you turn to him with a friendly smile. Clearing his throat, he steps forward and musters up a meager grin in return.

“Like I’d ever miss Tuesday lunch,” he jokes, a nervous chuckle falling past his lips.

“I guess I better get going. Thank you again, Yori,” you chime with a grateful smile. Then, with your attention turned to Bucky, “Have a nice lunch, James.”

“Thank you...” he trails quietly, mentally kicking himself for his stiff demeanor and wishing he could be less pathetic in your presence just once. Just once and he’d die a happy man.

You leave with a polite smile, turning down the hallway and out of Bucky’s grasp once again. Yori elbows his side.

“She’s single, you know.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Bucky replies with a wry chuckle. “You have me set up with one girl already.”

“Right,” Yori notes thoughtfully with a knowing smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes that Bucky can’t quite decipher. “I think you’re going to have a nice time on your date.”

“We’ll see,” is all he says in reply, your smile the only thing on his mind as the two men head out for the day.

Wednesday

Bucky has grown to love rainy days, days in which he can remain tucked away in the warmth and comfort of his own home with a relaxing mug of hot chocolate in one hand and some piece of pop culture media he has yet to catch up with in the other. Today’s pick is a book titled The Outsiders, and Bucky chooses to sit upon the windowsill to read the novel.

Gentle drops of rain trail down the glass window, pattering soothingly in a way that makes Bucky fear he may fall asleep. He sets the book aside with a tired sigh and glances out the window with his warm cheek pressed against the cool surface; the city is quiet and the streets nearly empty, and this makes it easier to spot you.

It’s almost as if you’ve been popping up out of nowhere lately, but Bucky never seems to mind. Watch from afar, that was the deal he made with himself, so who was he to complain if you made the task easier for him? He could never have you the way he wanted to because he doubted you’d ever want an unstable old man like him, and even if you did he’d be no good for you. He knew girls like you back in his day, girls with stars in their eyes and hearts on their sleeves, girls who’d melt in his arms whenever he so much as smiled at them. And yet you weren’t like any girl he’d ever seen; you were an enigma and he wanted nothing more than to spend all of eternity deciphering the mystery of you. But he couldn’t, because he shouldn’t, so he didn’t.

Despite the gloomy gray skies hanging above you there’s a serene smile on your face as you stop to admire the pots of sunflowers outside the building, reminding Bucky he has to buy some for his date on Saturday. God, he was dreading it. Bucky was sure whatever girl Yori picked for him would be nice enough, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes wish it were you he’d be taking out for a night on the town. A guy can dream, right?

You retreat into a nearby coffee shop when the rain begins to fall harder, and as Bucky turns to his own warm drink he finds that the mug is now cold. Book discarded, he rises from his spot on the windowsill and drowsily drags himself into the kitchen for another cup.

For a moment he thinks sunflowers might surely bring about his demise, and the passing thought brings the smallest of smiles to his face. Only time will tell.

Thursday

“How are you feeling about your date on Saturday?”

The woman stares at him expectantly, pristine notepad resting casually in her lap, pen in hand as a warning, eyebrows raised at the man as he stares down contemplatively at the stitching of his leather gloves. What should be a comforting environment instead only seems to put him on edge, and as the seconds tick by on the clock hung crookedly above the doorway her pen only seems to get closer to the blank page below her. Shoulders sagging, Bucky can only offer a small sigh in response.

“I can’t say I feel too great about it,” he finally says, the tension in his shoulders alleviating slightly as she finally puts the pen down.

“And why’s that?” Doctor Raynor prods curiously.

“I just don’t really think I’m all that ready for a relationship. What person wants to be with someone as screwed up as me?”

“The right person will,” Christina comforts. Your smiling face flashes briefly in his mind in response and he shifts in discomfort— the doctor notices. “But I don’t think you’re telling me the full story here, James. I suspect there’s something else that’s holding you back. Or maybe someone.”

“That obvious, huh?” Bucky retorts with a wry smile.

“Who’s the lucky person?”

“Her name’s y/n,” he says, your name falling past his lips in the softest tone Dr. Raynor has ever heard from him before. “I don’t know her all that well, but she lives in my apartment building so I see her around a lot. She’s... she’s really pretty.”

“Well, what is it about y/n that you like?”

Geez, where do I even begin?

“I don’t know,” Bucky shrugs, picking absently at a loose seam on the end of his shirt, “I guess I like how friendly she is. Every time I see her she’s always smiling, she always says good morning to everyone and lends a hand wherever she can. It’s like she goes out of her way to be nice to me, and I’m not really used to that but it’s a nice feeling. The first time I met her she never even flinched, she wasn’t scared like other people usually are, and even when I blew her off she still made it clear that I was welcome and if I needed a friend she’d be there. That’s the kind of person she is.”

“Did you take her up on that offer?” The woman asks, but by the look on her face Bucky is sure she already knows the answer.

“No...”

“James, we’ve talked about this,” Christina says firmly, “you have to stop closing yourself off from the people around you. Making a friend could really help you, especially if this girl is truly as nice as you say she is.”

“She is,” he reiterates firmly, “and that’s why I can’t be her friend.”

The doctor’s brows furrow with piqued interest at his admission, legs shifting underneath her as she gets comfortable in preparation for what will most likely be a heavy confession. “Can you elaborate for me?” She says. Bucky sighs.

“After everything that’s happened, and everything the world has been through, it just gets harder and harder to find some sort of light in the dark. So when you finally do find it, it’s like you have to do everything in your power to make sure it never goes out.”

“So y/n is a light?” Raynor reaffirms.

“For so many people,” Bucky nods, “and if I try to put myself in the picture I’ll only bring her down. There’s no future with me, and she deserves better than that.”

“How do you know that if you never put yourself out there?” The doctor asks softly, silently stunned by the heavy confession Bucky has entrusted her with; it’s the most he’s ever opened up before.

Pieces of the past dart through his mind, and in the midst of all the heartache and the chaos he sees Yori, the one friendship he’s been able to successfully maintain since his period of healing. The memory of the man is pleasant for a moment, until Bucky is reminded of the basis of their friendship and how one single confession will tear down everything they’ve built together. It doesn’t matter what kind of man he is now or how much control he has over his own life, the Winter Soldier will always have the final say, and nothing will ever change that. Finally, he speaks.

“I just do.”

Friday

“Crap.”

The softly uttered curse sounds from across the hallway and alerts Bucky of his struggling neighbor’s presence. Purse slipping off your shoulder and heavy groceries spilling from your arms, you struggle to maneuver your key into the lock of your front door all while the heat of embarrassment engulfs your body in a suffocating hold. You’re not as put together as you usually are, your belongings in disarray and eyes full of exhaustion rivaling that of his own, your usually meticulously picked clothing replaced by joggers and an old college sweatshirt that’s three sizes too big on you, and yet Bucky still finds himself frozen in your presence.

Don’t just stand there, help her you idiot, his mind screams at him, the soldier harshly swallowing down his nerves before taking shaky steps towards you. An orange slips out of the brown paper bag and rolls towards his feet, and Bucky takes it as his in into a conversation.

“Need some help?” He asks with a crooked smile, one that softens at the look of distress clear in your eyes as you meet his gaze.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” you breathe out before offering a meager smile of your own. “Some help would be great, thank you.”

Bucky takes the heavier bags of groceries from your aching arms and returns the orange to its rightful place, allowing you the chance to take your keys and unlock the door. You don’t spare him another glance as you walk in, leaving it open as a silent invitation for him to let himself in. Bucky swallows nervously but wordlessly follows behind; he’s never been in a woman’s apartment before, and the fact that it’s yours makes the experience all the more nerve wracking.

Your apartment is small but personalized, decorated with little knickknacks and houseplants and old family portraits that Bucky does his best not to stare at in fear of being rude, and the vanilla scented candle that burns on the coffee table makes him feel all the more welcome. You drop your purse by the couch with a tired sigh before directing your attention to the man who stands awkwardly in your living room. His hulking figure makes your apartment seem tiny, oddly comforting in a way, but you hold back your giggles and merely guide him to your kitchen.

“You can set them on the counter,” you say with a passive wave before reaching into one of the cabinets for a glass cup. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, thank you,” the man says politely as he settles the heavy bags down on the marble surface; as much as he’d like to sit and spend the evening with you, he can’t stay long, or more like he won’t allow himself to stay long. Your movements are clumsy as you down your glass of water, and Bucky looks away flustered as little droplets begin to escape the corners of your lips and dribble down your neck. “I hope I’m not overstepping by asking this, but are you alright? You seem a bit... flustered.”

“Is it that obvious?” You joke quietly, your smile barely reaching your eyes as you fidget with the sleeves of your sweater.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky begins to say in fear of overstepping, but you merely shake your head in response.

“I’m just a little stressed out. The kids always keep me on my toes, especially now that there’s more of them, and it’s been hard trying to get some of them to readjust.”

“Kids?” He repeats with furrowed brows. He can’t recall ever seeing you with any children, and there’s no sign of any living with you in your apartment. A genuine laugh leaves your lips this time at his response and Bucky tenses uncomfortably. Did he say something wrong?

“I’m a kindergarten teacher,” you explain with a smile, and everything clicks in Bucky’s mind then. That would explain the constant paint stains and trails of glitter left in your wake, the arts and crafts supplies and stacks of drawings you seem to carry with you everywhere. And here he thought your heart couldn’t get any bigger than it already was— were you even real?

“The effects of the blip have been really difficult for them. It’s hard having to come back to school and see that all your old friends are now five grades ahead of you. I know everyone has been impacted in some way by what happened, but it’s harder for the younger ones to understand. I’m doing my best to make the transition back to normalcy easier for them, but some days are harder than others, you know?”

“Sounds rough,” is all Bucky can manage to say, swallowing his emotions back harshly.

“Yeah,” you sigh quietly, rubbing away the clear exhaustion in your eyes, “but I’m trying my best.”

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

You smile then, a genuine smile, one that makes Bucky weak in the knees, and suddenly it’s as if all the weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

“I really needed to hear that,” you utter softly, “thank you.”

“What are neighbors for?” Bucky jokes lamely, but you must like his sense of humor for you let out the quietest of giggles.

“You’re sweet. I like talking with you, but I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re a busy guy.”

“Not really,” he shrugs with a crooked smile, “I just had some errands to run before tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” You ask curiously, brows raising with interest as Bucky awkwardly looks down at your hardwood floor.

“I’ve got a date.”

“Huh, no kidding. Me too,” you smile, and in response Bucky’s heart slowly begins to sink to his stomach. Yori had said you were single, but only an idiot would believe that someone like you could stay that way for long. Maybe if he had taken the doctor’s advice sooner he could be the one you’re seeing instead of the lucky guy that beat him to it.

“I should get going... I’ll see you around.”

“Thank you again for the help, and good luck on your date,” you say with an encouraging smile. Bucky swallows harshly in response, a look of longing in his eyes that he hides well with a meager quirk of his lips.

“You too,” he murmurs in response, casting you once last glance before showing himself out. The lock clicks behind him, and Bucky trudges back to his own empty apartment.

Saturday

The dining patio of the Italian restaurant is pleasantly empty, but the quiet stillness does little to help soothe Bucky’s nerves as he waits for the arrival of his date. He probably should have asked Yori what she looked like, what her name was and what she’d be wearing so he’d know what to expect, but the old man had been adamant on keeping the identity of his date a surprise.

“It’ll be better that way,” he had said, “trust me.”

The bouquet of sunflowers sits before him on the table almost tauntingly, their bright colors and sweet scent sending his senses into overdrive. He almost resented them, but then he thought of your smiling face through the window and the tension from his shoulders began to dissipate— if you could be strong and put on a brave face despite all the bad things that had happened in the world, then so could he.

“James?” A meek voice calls quietly, pulling the man from his thoughts. His blue eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the woman standing before him and he swallows anxiously.

“Y/n?” Bucky replies, quickly rising from his seat and cringing at the way in which the legs of the chair scrape harshly across the floor with his sudden movements. Here he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, and here you were proving him wrong with your cute little outfit and styled hair and charming smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my date,” you explain with a sheepish smile. Bucky deflates— not only would he have to suffer through his own painfully awkward date, but he’d also have to sit and watch you get swept off your feet by someone else all in the same night.

“Oh... well, who’s the lucky guy?”

“That’s the thing,” you say with a nervous laugh, “I think you are.”

“Me?” Bucky repeats flabbergasted. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Yori was the one who said I should try dating again. He thought it would be good for me to spend some time with other adults since I’m always with my students, and when I said I didn’t really know anyone he told me he’d take care of it for me. All he told me was to come to this restaurant Saturday at six and look for the man with sunflowers,” you summarize before gesturing to the bouquet on the table, “and you’re the only one here with sunflowers so...”

A disbelieving laugh leaves Bucky then at the realization, and he isn’t sure whether he should jump for joy or wait for the ground below to swallow him whole. Finally he had a chance to spend time with the girl who had taken over his thoughts and occupied every available space in his heart, and yet he couldn’t help but feel terrified. A date was a big step up from neighborly conversation in your apartment, and all of Bucky’s hopes of developing something more with you were riding on this one date. Yori knew exactly what he was doing by setting the two of you up, and Bucky had no choice but to be grateful for the man who had bestowed upon him the chance to finally win you over.

“If this is too awkward for you we can just skip this whole date—“

“No, it’s not awkward at all,” Bucky is quick to interject. “I mean, this whole thing is certainly a surprise but it’s a good one. It’s an honor to be your blind date.”

He flashes a charming smile that makes you weak in the knees, and he knows then that he’s back in the game— who would have guessed he’d be able to dust off his old moves with such ease? He had to if he wanted any kind of chance at winning you over.

“In that case, why don’t we get out of here? This restaurant is a little stuffy,” you note with a small chuckle, your nerves slowly beginning to dwindle.

“Alright, what do you have in mind?”

The nightlife atmosphere of the plaza square is surprisingly much more comfortable compared to the dining patio, and Bucky considers himself the luckiest man alive to be able to witness firsthand the way your eyes seem to sparkle with the light of the starry sky. A nighttime stroll is right up Bucky’s alley, and you both fall into a comfortable step as you talk about whatever topic seems to come to mind. You speak of your students, about how much their smiling little faces have helped you get through the toughest times, how there’s a stray cat who calls the dumpsters behind your apartment building a home and waits for your arrival on trash days because you always bring the feline a special treat. Alpine, you had named it, and Bucky adored that greatly.

The details are vague but you enjoy the stories he tells you of his childhood and the way his whole face seems to light up at the mere mention of his mother and sister; that look dwindles slightly when he speaks of his old best friend, but you pretend not to notice. As a younger man Bucky worked at the docks before serving time in the army, though he fails to mention where he’d been stationed, and now he works for the government. You feel almost giddy to be learning so much about the man you once believed would rather prefer solitude over your company, and as the night drags on and the conversation begins to dwindle you almost wish you could reverse the clock and do it all over again.

“Thank you,” Bucky says after a moment of silence, prompting you to halt your steps and raise a brow curiously at your counterpart.

"What for?"

“Taking a chance on a guy like me,” he smiles faintly while offering you a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I haven’t really done anything like this in a while, and the idea of putting myself back out there scared me shitless, but you just make things so much easier. I guess what I’m trying to say is when I’m with you everything comes naturally, and I really appreciate that.”

“Oh,” you utter softly, a sheepish smile of your own gracing your lips as you turn away to admire the scenery around you. It isn’t until now that you notice you’ve stopped before the fountain, the arches of water flowing overhead illuminated by the fluorescent lights below them. A nervous fluttering occupies your stomach and when you finally meet Bucky’s gaze you feel as if nothing else in the entire world mattress other than the two of you in this moment. “Well, if it makes you feel any better I’m kind of in the same boat, so that just means we can figure this out as we go. Together.”

“I like that,” Bucky affirms with a nod, a look that can only be described as lovestruck taking over his features. Nerves overcome you then as you clutch your bouquet of flowers to your chest, heart thrumming rapidly in your rib cage as Bucky steps closer. The glove that had once shielded his right hand from the cold is now missing as he gently cups your cheek and encompasses you with his warmth. His palm is calloused and rough but comforting all the same, and it takes everything in your power not to melt like putty in his grasp.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs quietly as if raising his voice any higher will ruin the moment.

“Yeah,” you breathe shakily, swallowing back your nerves, “it’s okay.”

Your softly uttered words of confirmation are all Bucky needs to hear before dipping down and gently brushing his lips against your own. His movements are hesitant for only a moment, and it is only once he’s sure you are comfortable and secure that he moves in for more. Your lips are soft against his own, plush and warm and so sweet, and as your eyes begin to flutter shut and the forgotten sunflowers slip out of your grasp you drape your arms securely across his shoulders at the same moment in which his left hand joins his right in cupping your face as if you were a precious jewel in need of the upmost care.

Nothing exists when you are in each other’s arms, you are safe and sound in your own little world, and as you part to take a breath Bucky realizes then that one kiss is all he needs to know that you are the one he’s been waiting for all his life.

And by god, if you aren’t more than worth the wait.

[tiens-letters]

with these hands, I vowed to love you

with these hands, I vowed to care for you

and with these hands, I ruined you

Childe (angst)

tw : slight gore and just pure pain

...

It was that time of the year again, going back to the snowy region was a bliss for you. Having to visit your fiancée's family was an unspoken tradition after he introduced you to them. They practically took you in as one of them immediately, especially that little angel brother of his.

Teucer.

The train ride was comfortable , the window giving you the familiar beauty of the snowy landscape of snezhenaya. It was snug inside the rather spacious compartment Childe rented out, even when you told him that you'd rather share a normal one due to your thrifty nature he'd shrug it off, claiming it that he has too much mora and nowhere to spend it on other than you.

Gifts from him would scare you as you knew these weren't anywhere cheap. Everything he gave was expensive, he loved showering you in gifts and it made you feel so overwhelmed.

"Ajax, you're spending too much." you were visibly sweating beside him as he picked out another one of the dresses on display at the local boutique of Liyue.

"I think this one would suit you better, don't you think so love?" of course he wasn't listening, placing the dress in front of you

"Ajax." you frowned at him

" I just want to spoil you." he whines

"I know but sometimes its just..." you stopped yourself before saying anything further in fear of offending him

"Was it too much again?" the tone in his voice softens as he puts back the dress, he knew how you didn't like that habit of his, formed from the first time he saw you down by the docks.

"One dress, Ajax. One is enough since you picked it out for me." you gave in not wanting to see him so dejected, he immediately brightens up as he pecks you on cheek before rushing off to a different aisle of clothing. Sighing, you sat down on the sofa present in the shop, watching the ginger decide thoroughly of what dress to buy.

But of course, your love for one another runs deeper than things bought off gold nor silver. No, it ran deeper than anything else, rivaling the oceanic depths.

"What are you thinking about hmm?" he hums below you, head resting against your lap.

"Im just happy to be visiting again, that's all." you smile, nimble hands brushing through his soft hair "Sleep well?"

"You bet I did." he grins taking your hand and placing a kiss to your beating pulse and then another and another, showering you in his deeply rooted affection. Soon his kisses reached where they are supposed to belong, those soft lips of yours and then inching their way to the sensitive spots on your neck, leaving marks only he can place on you.

Breathless and bothered, you pushed him back "The attendants are gonna see, you idiot." at least you still had some control in you

"They will only arrive when we call them , so its fine to have a little fun before we arrive." there was that sly grin of his as he continued in where you both left off, ears perking to hear more sounds exclusively for him and him only.

"You horny bastard!"

...

It was cozy by the hearth, you and his siblings huddled together in one single fleece blanket, steaming cups of hot cocoa in hand. Childish giggles and hushed stories erupted amongst you. Teucer having wrapped in your arms as he snuggled closer. Anthon and Tonia flanking your sides.

"Hey, who's fiancé do you think you guys are coveting?"

"Oh don't be like that, your siblings just miss them." his mother chided from the couch where she sat, an open book on her lap, she didn't seem to age and always looked so young that at first you were shocked to have been introduced to her.

"But mom, I haven't seen her all day." her son pouts as if he were still a child denied his candy

"Give me a break, you're always clinging onto her you know." his sister rolls those identical thalassic eyes at him "You wont die if you go a day without her."

"Listen here you little---"

"Ajax." you interjected, as much as you enjoy the siblingly banter of theirs, you cant have them going at each other with offensive words. His pleading gaze aimed at you as he practically begged for you both to go home.

"Please?"

"After I put Teucer to bed." you sighed, standing up with the youngest in your arms

"Seriously this guy." his sister groaned "I was having a good time."

"Tonia dear, we can continue our conversations tomorrow." you winked at her, it was a promise

"Fine."

Both of you bid farewell to his mother and made your way towards Teucer's room and tucking him in.

"Happy?" you turned to your fiancée, a narrowed look in your eyes as he grinned beside you

"Of course, sweetheart!" he pecked your lips as he pulled you closer

"Can you not do it in Teucer's room? Have some shame." his siblings' comments were endless, this time it was from his older brother.

"That's why were going home." Childe picked you up as you made a surprised yelp making the other party roll his eyes "Also, get ready to lose tomorrow brother. I'm getting that white deer for my lady."

"I'm looking forward to it."

The walk was short towards Childe's home as he preferred living alone. It was a grandiose manor and you were sure you will never get used to how big it was and filled with such furnitures of the finest quality.

"Well, how was your day darling?" you hummed, arms snaking around his neck

"Oh you wouldn't believe it."

...

It was there.

You felt it in the cold breeze that wafted into the room.

A shift in the flow of the wind, it was different yet familiar at the same time. Leaving the window open as the harsh temperatures of the night climbed and crawled inside. The curtains danced in the turbulent current of the gale, carrying songs only you could hear. Songs that made mountains tremble and build civilizations at the same time.

there was something foreboding, something terrifying and something heavy and dark that devoured anything in its path.

You heard him first before he came in through those doors, that tousled ginger hair of his caked with melting snowflakes in the warm glow of the lamps. His rugged appearance caused by the hunting competition between him and his older siblings induced his worn out state. That soft yet jaded smile of his was what welcomed you as he trudged inside the bedroom, lazily discarding his clothes on the basket for dirty laundry and entering the bathroom for a quick shower.

"why is the window open? " he asks you, sliding inside the warm covers

"I just wanted fresh air ." you smile as you shut the windows and pull the blinds enough for you to see the moon that hung above the sky. Joining him under the covers, you cradled him, his head resting on the crook of your neck. Your hands finding their way into those soft locks of his , entangling them as he hummed softly against you. Those arms of his that held weapons and skin littered with scars both old and new now held you close, so tenderly as if he'd never taken a life before.

"sing me a song, sweetheart. " his queries were simple yet genuine

"of course." you sang until you equated him to a sleeping newborn

It was warm, so warm that you could have mistaken it for a summer afternoon in Liyue, resting on the couch with silken pillows and window showcasing the view of the harbor below. The steaming cups of soothing tea Beidou would brew for you when nights became cold at times she would pay you a visit after trading that would take weeks, months and rarely years.

you slept.

Why is it cold? you wondered, Did Ajax open the windows?

You were blessed by the tsaritsa so such climates shouldn't matter to you.

You woke up.

A shadow was cast over you by the man youve sung to sleep. Virulent blue eyes looked at you with so much abhorrence, for a second you couldnt recognize them and thought it was a stranger to which you were ready to terminate.

"Ajax?" your voice was hoarse, as you slowly lost the feeling in your lips.

He was crazed, still trapped in that dreaming state of his, drifting between experiences. Today was a re-enactment of a memory he would never speak of, not even to you. There were parts of him he'd never tell you, such a soul as yours should never hear.

You choked and coughed as the metallic taste of mortal ichor filled your throat. How could you have not felt anything earlier? Was it because of your futile attempts to coax Ajax back into reality or was it because of the numerous thoughts your mind came up with to he answer as to why he is in such a virulent state. Excruciating pain filled your whole body as you writhed and struggled under his grip. It felt as if something was being ripped out of you.

"Ajax, darling come back to me." you cried, it took so much to even utter a word as you bled out, you know not where but you could feel it. The liquid vital for your survival was seeping out of you, flowing like a lazy river on an autumns day, only that it was warm, sticky and addicting.

"Ajax?" a hiss comes from that mouth, he cringes as you freed your numb hands to hold his face and he let you, seeing as to there was no point in stopping you as you dangerously danced on a tight rope of life and death. You couldn't tell in that delirious disposition of yours if his eyes were shifting between Ajax or the primal eyes of a beast hunting its prey.

It wasn't too late was it?

But why didn't your eyes meet his?

Who snuffed out all the lights?

"I've abandoned that name a long time ago."

The cold took over you completely, freezing you until you broke under his touch with words left dying in your ichor filled lips

and then fear was the last thing you felt.

fear that he might not return to his sweet, charming self.

fear that he will curse everything in his path.

fear that he might attempt to use different various methods to bring back what was lost

and fear of his ruination.

you care not for your death, even in your last minutes of life, you dare not blame him for what he's endured so far. only wishing he never had to experience such in the first place.

This is what the wind warned you about in its lullaby.

...

Childe woke up for the second time.

Oddly more worn out than the day before, but your songs always worked, how come? . He wondered if you left to make breakfast as the covers felt empty as he reached out for you. No, you were a late riser, always having to slumber in the middle of the warm covers of the bed you both share. It was he who mostly did the cooking in the morning. So your presence gone was a displacement in the moment of his waking.

His eyes had to adjust to the view of the room as he sat up, a yawn escaping his lips as he called for you. The pitter-patter sound of the water on the bathroom tiles were non-existent as he strained his ears to hear for any trace of you.

"What..." he was confused as to why the room was trashed, furniture broken in half and strewn about the room, the drapes shredded and laying on the floor and the mirror shattered to pieces, shards sharp enough to cut through skin yet he slept through such a thing?

his first concern was your safety as you had not been present in the room and it him.

the heavy stench of blood lingered in the air. His enjoyment for such things turned into something suffocating because blood was never shed in his own home nor in his very room. In the state of confusion, something dark caught his peripheral vision. A large blemish in the covers beside him, it was dyed a deep dark crimson and he knew well what it was. He began to shake in worry, telling himself not to panic until he finds you safe. All he could remember was you singing him to sleep, held captive in your soft arms, encased in your warmth, so how did it come to such a morning that looked like a result of a monster's tantrum. He calls out for you, his bare feet on the floor as splinters punctured them and he didnt care. he had to find you.

The hallways looked haunting, the portraits on the walls taunting him and he swore he was going lose it if he hadnt found you sooner, every room was achingly vacant and it felt like a dream. He calls for your name again in a frenzy as he rushes through the place, had the mansion been this big? he thinks as he runs down the stairs.

There in the fireplace, the dying embers of fire lit from the night before, wood giving away and turning into coal as the burning smell mingled with similar stench that engulfed the bedroom, the same dark liquid on the sheets was present as well, only that it was painted into the wall and bled down creating a cascading waterfall.

Because there you were, with arms spread out as if welcoming each and every sinner for solace and blessing them with forgiveness, the drying mortal ichor behind you creating a halo. Your lips upturned into something soft as if you'd do anything disgraceful to keep the effeminacy on a soul lost to ruin.

an angel crucified.

that oh so heavenly face of yours could rival anything beautiful, even statues would crumble under you, nations would go to war for you and bodies of those who want you would turn into a throne built for you and you only. You were immortally ethereal even in death.

Ajax, dear sweet Ajax felt his legs give away, energy having siphoned from him as he trembled so much that it could rival the mountains when they shook. Thalassic eyes, wide blown into grief, anguish and all other emotions crashed against him like strong waves that could drown anyone caught up in it. He knelt as pain spread through him like wildfire, burning, scorching and killing. Agonized cries filled the room and if someone were to pass by, they couldve mistaken it for a dying animal. He gasped and choked on his own breath as he dared to look at you, the tears freely flowing from his eyes, down to his pale cheek and finally falling off his trembling chin to be hungrily absorbed by the carpeted floor that was also tarnished by ichor.

He felt crazed as he wept and in that moment of insanity, he remembered. That most disgusting sin he's ever committed that he should never be pardoned for in the life he has right now and the next ones he will be in. Through the blur of tears, he saw his hands and he wished he didnt.

Sullied hands befitting a murderer.

He screams into the ground, doubling over as his hands find their way into his hair, gripping it and ripping out those jacinthe locks of his. He could never forgive himself now and he never will. He wails out loud until his own throat collapsed into a croaking mess.

and then he couldnt find himself no longer.

The sand of time seemed to trickle down slowly. His eldest siblings came looking for him, to continue the hunt. A once peaceful encounter turned into a nightmarish reality as they witnessed their brother rocking back and forth with you gingerly wrapped in his arms, mumbling your name. Lips pressed to your forehead as he prayed and begged for forgiveness over and over in hushed torn whispers as if it were enough to bring you back and cover that gaping hole in your abdomen.

"What did you do?"

...

"Brother, when are they coming back?"

Oh darling Teucer, innocence reflecting off his eyes as he tugged on his brother's sleeve. The toy you gifted him clutched tightly at his side.

"I dont know kid, their mission was sudden so its best to wait. Can you do that Teuc?" the truth about you was kept behind closed doors, only adults can speak of and if they did, it took time to keep the conversation smooth and off of any grief nor sadness when your name reached their tongue. The younger ones would never know until the time is right. When everything was taken care of and hearts moved on. 

Your funeral was held in secrecy yet was it was grand. Something that would hold the significance of your memories with them. It was beautiful, your favorite flowers lined along your coffin, and you. Looking ever so ethereal even when death has kissed you, clad in that dress Childe bought for you. 

"uh huh!" the youngest ginger nodded eagerly and skipped away as the eldest sighed into his hands, the pressure weighing heavily on his shoulders as he worried more and more about his younger sibling. Another memory, a mind broken and a his soul withering. was there any way to save him? 

Days seemed to go by as any glimpse of the man was scarce. Until one day they ceased to see him altogether. It started at lunch, a week after the funeral when it took everyone to coax him into eating more as he lost weight  and trickled down to a whole day. Cooped up in his room, clinging to a pillow with the fading scent of you. and then he was gone, like a snowflake melting upon ones forehead. They grew anxious and thought of the worse until they caught wind that he was back in Liyue from one of the agents only then were they allowed to breathe a little better. 

"Childe, what finds you here?" the calm tone of the geo archon's voice broke him out of his trance

"Have you seen my fiance?" Zhongli blinks at the question of the harbinger, he knew what befell you and yet this man before him seemed clueless enough as to what he committed. How Childe did what he did, he seemed to sympathize with in a way that would make him understand his behavior. 

" I have not." he couldnt bring himself to tell this man the truth. Perhaps he was sparing him, spearing that mind of his into spiraling down into nothingness and a heart that was held by a thin piece of thread. "Perhaps it is better to enjoy yourself while you wait for them." 

To deviate oneself from the loss might be the best way Childe right now until his mind is ready to accept the torment of the heavy truth that would slew this man. 

"I see. " he smiles and yet it feels so empty to Childe, the reason? He wouldnt know or atleast his mind wouldnt allow him to know 

"Ill see you around then Xiansheng." 

Everything that he portrayed lacked and all he could do as he's always did. 

...........

i had to.

I hope yall would get Childe :)

[bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue]

Beboptober Day 7: This Drink’s On Me

Thanks to @thestarlightsymphony for the prompt list! Apologies for the lateness—Friday (10/7) was a busy day for me and I was kinda blocked, so I couldn’t finish and post this until today. I’ll post two fics tomorrow (10/9) to make up for it. This fic takes place during the beginning of Session 25, “The Real Folk Blues Part 1.”

It had been a few hours, and more than a few drinks, since Spike and Jet had planted themselves in the dimly-lit bar on Mars. Scattered next to them on the counter sat mostly-drained glasses, mostly-untouched bowls of peanuts, and a few snuffed-out cigarette butts. The two of them sat in moody, thoughtful silence.

Three of their crew—sixty percent. Gone. Just like that.

It had been a while after the departure of Faye, Ed, and Ein before the two of them had finally left Earth’s airspace and landed the Bebop on Mars, looking for a place to just sit and drink their feelings away. A while of aimless drifting along, smoking, silence.

In retrospect, they probably should have taken off to Mars—or, better yet, some remote corner of the Solar System where they couldn’t be tracked down—immediately, the better for them not to be found again. The last thing they needed was for the two leavers (three, counting Ein) to come crawling back to the ship apropos of nothing, demanding to be fed and sheltered and pampered like babies. He and Spike were better off without all that. But they hadn’t fled immediately; they’d stayed around Earth, at least for a little while, and it felt almost like waiting. Like they were anticipating the girls’ return and giving them a place to come back to.

What bullshit.

They had places to go back to, places they belonged. That’s why they had abandoned the Bebop in the first place. It had never been that place for them. Even after all the times Jet had, reluctantly but unfailingly, taken Faye in when she left the ship and then returned like a smug little cat. Told Ed stories and folktales he remembered from his youth as she rocked back and forth with wide eyes, riveted. Fed Ein, pet him, even talked to him when the rest of the crew wasn’t looking…

If all that had meant nothing to them, then he was better off without them anyway.

He’d been intermittently telling Spike as such for a while and was met with a stony, solemn silence. Spike was resting his head on the counter, his eyes closed. Jet wondered what the hell was going through his head.

They’d been doing so much better when it was just the two of them, anyway. Jet took some momentary solace in the fact that at least they still had each other—then immediately chided himself for thinking that way, for jinxing it. He knew it was foolish and superstitious of him, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of impending dread—that this wasn’t the end. That the losses would keep coming.

He knocked back the rest of his drink and raised his hand to signal the bartender. (It wasn’t like he had to compete for the bartender’s attention; they were the only two in the bar, like a goddamn Edward Hopper painting come to life.) “Another, please.”

The bartender, a serious man with a long and slightly gaunt face, gave a short nod. “This next drink’s on me.”

“Huh?”

He’d already begun shaking the cocktail before Jet could argue. “You two look like you need it.”

Maybe he was taking pity on them. Maybe he was simply trying to get them to stay and buy more drinks afterward—building a customer base (although he kinda shot down his chance to do so with a name like the “Loser Bar”). Maybe he was just sick and tired of their angsting and bullshit.

Either way, the two of them would take it.

They’d take all the solidarity they could get.

[fandomficsnstuff]

Little Dragon - Part 13

Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.

(Warnings: talks of former slavery, time skips and it’s a bit fast forwarded, Jorah’s death, lots of angst I think, let me know if I missed anything, stay safe out there ya’ll!)

High Valyrian is in cursive

And Dothraki in bold

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You kept your head down as you rode on your horse, a fairly new experience for you, but it was similar to riding Rhaegal, just smaller, less scaly and less windy, you had reigns to hold onto, and a saddle to sit in. You were broken out of your train of thought as you heard your name called, turning your head to see none other than Jon Snow, giving you a nervous glance “hello” he said awkwardly, making you look ahead, spotting Daenerys talking with Missandei, before turning back to him “Lord Snow, can I help you with something?” he grimaced a bit, but still gave you a smile “if it’s alright, I would prefer if you didn’t call me Lord” you nodded “forgive me, I don’t know what to call you then. All these… customs are new to me, I have only lived with them for a few years now” Jon frowned at your words “how long then?” you shrugged as you looked ahead again “around five, I was ten when our Queen Daenerys found me” you smiled at the memory, glancing at Jon who only gave you a look that silently asked you to explain further.

“You see, I was a slave, in Mereen,” Jon immediately frowned “but you were a child?” he sounded disturbed, and it brought a tiny sense of envy, envy that he didn’t grow up with such horrible things “yes, though that didn’t concern my former master. I remember the day that Daenerys liberated Mereen, I remember seeing her silver hair in the street as she walked with the freed children, but I was still a slave. My master had let his other slaves go but not me, he kept me locked up in his small pyramid… Daenerys saw me watching her in the window, so she waved at me. I remember being so scared of my master that I looked over my shoulder before I waved back, I was so scared of how many beatings I would get if he caught me, but he didn’t, anyway, I must have leaned over the edge of the window, because she saw my collar. I remember how angry she looked as she walked into the house, she immediately had my master thrown in the cells, and then she saw me, on the steps, watching her again” you smiled warmly at the fond memory, a few tears building up in your eyes, but as you looked back at Jon, he seemed horrified and confused, looking away from you as he thought over your words, as if he didn’t know what to say “it’s alright, Jon Snow, I wouldn’t want your sympathy” he looked at you with confusion, something that made you smile ever so slightly, he didn’t know why you didn’t want sympathy.

“I don’t want sympathy because that is not why Daenerys took me in as her own, at least I’d like to believe it wasn’t. Yes, she felt bad for me, but I remember seeing those purple eyes of hers… I remember how safe I felt. It was only later that I learnt of Rhaego. Perhaps she saw in me what she had lost, or maybe it really was just sympathy, whatever it was, I no longer wear a collar, my body no longer bears bruises except for those I earned in training. Daenerys may not have carried me, but she is my mother. That is why I do not want sympathy, Jon Snow, because I no longer need it, I am no longer in a position where it keeps me alive” you finished, speeding up your horse to join Daenerys and Missandei, leaving behind a sympathetic, but understanding Jon Snow.

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Your lips slightly parted in awe as you neared Winterfell, you felt as though the only grounding force that told you it wasn’t a dream was Rhaegal and Drogon above you, their roars and the sound of their wings let you know you were wide awake, and you finally turned to Ezzo, smiling amazed at him before looking back to Winterfell. You had read about it in Mereen, and you remembered how out of all of the cities, you wanted to see Winterfell the most, and here you were, approaching it slowly as people of the north watched you ride by. You felt Ezzo’s hand gently nudge your knee, making you look at him as he gave you a smile “what?” you asked as he just looked at you, he shrugged and just kept smiling “just wanted to look at you” you blushed at his words, the colour of you (Y/S/C) cheeks flushing red, and you looked away, much to Ezzo’s dismay, he thought it looked beautiful with your (Y/E/C) eyes. You shook your head, almost as if you tried to shake off the blush on your cheeks, but you couldn’t shake off the smile that graced your lips “I’ve read a lot about Winterfell, it was built so long ago, it’s said to be built over there natural hot springs, so even though it’s snowing, the castle is much warmer than it looks” you looked back to Ezzo, only to find him already looking at you, and you refrained from saying anything, just enjoying the soft look he gave you as you looked back to Winterfell.

You marvelled at how big it actually was, and Daenerys, upon seeing your face, couldn’t help the smile that found it’s way to her lips.

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You sat tense by Daenerys’ side, something she had noticed long ago. You were cold, colder than before. When you read about the hot springs under Winterfell, you had hoped it would have given more of an impact, but here you were, willing yourself to stop shaking, while your mother sat quite comfortably, since she was a Targaryen. Your eyes scanned the crowd as a way to distract yourself, and you noticed how everyone seemed to love Jon, everyone knew him, adored him, admired him, and you could see, out the corner of your eyes, Daenerys’ smile wavering, she noticed as well. Daenerys was so used to being loved back in Essos, in Essos she was the Breaker of Chains, the Unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, she brought wonder and awe to people’s lives as she entered them, but here, here she was the foreign queen who their king had knelt to, the daughter of a madman, leader of an army of savages, and you imagined how much it must hurt her, so turning to her you gently nudged her, giving you her attention, and you knew the smile she put on her lips were fake, it was forced and stretched, like a piece of leather being forced over shapes it wasn’t meant to embrace.

You got up, pulled your new arakh out from behind your back and sat back down, your whole body facing her as you showed it to her “Ezzo gave it to me” you let her hold it and study it, watching her smile fade as realization struck her “your name day…” your own smile fell, you hadn’t meant to force it upon her, she was busy, it was a time of war, you understood how she could forget it, so you quickly shook your head “Mhysa I-... I didn’t mean it like that I just… wanted to show you… he carved the handle himself and-”

“I’m so sorry, Little Dragon” she looked heartbroken and you quickly shook your head again, reaching out for her hands “no, no Mhysa, please don’t be, we’re at war, I nearly forgot it myself, as have Missandei, please don’t feel bad. We’re all busy, you most of all, and after Viserion-” you stopped yourself there, knowing you’d get nowhere with her, and mentioning Viserion would only bring the both of you pain, you could already feel the tears building up in your eyes “I will do my best to correct this, I swear, (Y/N)” you sighed, taking back you anakh, putting it on the table, leaning over and hugging her “you don’t have to, just be happy” you whispered the last bit, feeling her arms finally wrap around you to embrace you as well. Once you parted you saw how sad she still was, which made you feel a guilty, you hadn’t meant to force it upon her, you heard her give a short sigh, turning back to look at the different people, studying them and how they loved Jon Snow, you followed her gaze, and you couldn’t help moving your hand down to gently grasp hers, she was so warm compared to you, her Targaryen blood had fire running through her veins “you are so cold, are you freezing?” you turned to look at her concerned expression, making you smile slightly “no, no I’m just cold. Mhysa, you’re a Targaryen, you have fire in your veins” you giggled slightly, and she joined you, briefly, before looking back over the the northerners “they’ll love you, you know, they’re just scared, perhaps even a bit betrayed, they trusted their king to never kneel again and then he did it, they’re just angry, but I don't blame them, who wouldn’t be in this cold?” you whispered the last bit to her, making her grin and do her best to hold in a laugh that you knew wanted to tear it’s way out of her and make itself known to everyone in the room, a thought that kept you warmer than the fires your brother’s breathed.

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You frowned as you stared at her in disbelief, taking in her words, each time you tried to decipher it a new frown appeared on your forehead “but-...” you leaned back in your chair, your gaze off to the side, not looking at anything in particular. You finally looked back at Daenerys, seeing her being torn between worlds as well. You leaned forward, gently grasping her hand in yours “who knows, Mhysa?” she swallowed the lump in her throat before speaking up “his brother, Bran, Samwell Tarly, and he’s going to tell his sisters” you frowned at her last statement “but I thought he loved you?” at yours words Daenerys finally let a tear roll down her cheek, all her life she had believed she was the true heir to Westeros, and now, now all of the sudden she wasn’t, the goal she had worked her way towards her whole life was gone, snuffed out, like a candle in a storm. You sighed heavily and got up “and he says he doesn’t want the throne?” you looked out a window before back to Daenerys, seeing her nod briefly and weakly, making you sigh again “then that’s that, Mhysa, he doesn’t want it, you are the heir to the Seven Kingdoms, you are the Queen of Westeros, there is nothing else to it” you kneeled down in front of her, you knew how much this meant to her.

She gently shook her head “it doesn’t matter what he wants… he’s the rightful heir and the people-”

“No! Mhysa… you’ve worked towards this your entire life! He doesn’t want the throne, they can’t force him upon it, can they? I-... I know you love him… I know you haven’t said so but, the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you, he loves you as well, I’m not-... experienced in love but, you have to at least trust that, right?” Daenerys sighed and looked at you, raising a hand to gently hold your cheek, you leaned into her touch and she smiled at the gesture “my sweet little dragon” she whispered, leaning over and placing a kiss on your forehead, her eyes closed as yet another tear fell from them.

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You glared at your mother as she looked at you with a pleading look “I am not going into the crypt, I want to fight!” Daenerys sighed, you two had been at it for almost an hour now “(Y/N) there is nothing to discuss, please, my little dragon, do as I say. You have a responsibility, you’re the heir to the throne, my ONLY heir, please, I can’t let anything happen to you” you sighed as she used your nickname in Valyrian, mulling over her words before finally giving a weak nod, making Daenerys close her eyes in pure relief. You sighed heavily as you walked down the steps, mumbling annoyed, making Sansa frown as she studied you, looking down at Tyrion, who sighed “she wants to fight, a Dothraki has been teaching her for months now. I think she’s scared,” he whispered the last part, making Sansa lean in as he continued “I think she’s scared of losing yet another brother, or perhaps even her mother, she thinks that somehow if she fights with her, she could prevent it” Sansa frowned even more “but the dragons are not her brothers” Tyrion shrugged “she has grown up around them for the last five years, whenever she was sad and Missandei or Daenerys wasn’t around, the dragons comforted her, I’ve heard stories of how they flew up on her balcony and came close to her, let her lay up against them and cry. When they were locked in the pyramid, she visited them every day, Rhaegal was her dragon, and now Jon Snow is riding him, she may not be a Targaryen, but she understands those dragons, almost as well as their mother, so try to tell her, once a little girl, lost and afraid of the world, protected and cared for by these dragons and their mother, that they are not her family. She already lost one brother, forgive me, Lady Stark, but I do believe you can understand how she feels” Tyrion ended, looking back at you as Missandei sat down next to you, talking with you quietly.

Sansa watched you with sympathy now, she understood what it was like to lose family, and while she couldn’t see how you saw dragons as family, she could understand the bond and the grief you must have felt when Viserion died, especially now that it was known that he had joined the Night King as an undead dragon, no longer the brother you knew.

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You stared at the piles upon piles of dead bodies, blood covering your face, your akanh in your hand, a cut on your hand and leg, still bleeding, your eyes widening as you saw a white figure in the distance leaning over someone, crying. It was nearly dawn, the Night King was dead and so was his army. Your feet took off before you even knew it, you barely felt the wound on your leg as you ran across the body littered field, you fell to your knees, you arakh long forgotten as you stared at the body in Daenerys’ arms. You breathed heavily as you just stared at his pale skin, the blood splattered across his face and armor, and the small drops of tears from your mother’s eyes. You gently shook your head as you held your breath, at any moment he would wake up, right? He would wake up, let you know that he was alright, he was okay, he was wounded but alive, right? You let out a whimper as none of that happened, he stayed still and pale, and you leaned over his breastplate, resting your head on it, not caring about the blood smearing onto your forehead. You let a sob escape your lips, only one, you told yourself, but it was followed by another, and another, and another, and before you knew it you were sobbing against the cold, hard metal covering his chest.

You looked up at Daenerys to see her crying as well, holding Joarh close and you couldn’t help but lean down and hug his stiff form, your arms around his neck as you sobbed against his throat, silently begging him to wake up, and when that didn’t work you tried verbally “wake up, please Ser Jorah, please, please wake up, please no, no, no, no! Wake up!” you hadn’t even noticed how you had begun to speak Valyrian, it was your native tongue after all, even though Jorah never understood it. You shook him as hard as you could, tears streaming down your face as you shook your head once more, you could barely breathe, Jorah had been the one to cut off your collar, he had been the one you had talked the most with, even though none of you understood each other back then. You leaned against Daenerys’ shoulder as you both cried, tears streaming down your faces as you continued to hold the old knight.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, clinging to his corpse and Daenerys’ side as you cried over his body, praying that somehow he would wake up, somehow his eyes would open, or he would cough, say something, anything. But nothing happened, and nothing ever would, he was dead, cold and stiff, buried in metal as he laid in the cold snow, blood surrounding him, some of it his own, some of it not, that thought chilled you to the bone more than any wind ever could, he was bathed in blood, some not his own, it made you sick, and you felt the urge to throw up, leaning away quickly and throwing up over the side, making sure none of it touched Jorah or your mother. Afterwards you groaned, tears still streaming down your face as you glanced at Ser Jorah, another sob forcing it’s way through your body and out your mouth as you yet again fell to Daenerys’ side, holding Jorah. You felt Daenerys’ hand slowly place itself on your back as you sobbed, her own cries still spilling from her lips as you both just held him, not caring who watched or who was nearby.

[colossal-fallout]

Would you do a hanji x reader where the reader has come back after being missing beyond the walls and it’s all sub loud hanji or not dw if not xx

Oh, I love this ~ 🔥

Return to me...

GN reader X Hanji

Warnings: 18+ - slight angst- smut - fluff

Hanji's eyes opened slowly; her head against the desk where she'd, once again, crashed and burned into an exhausted slumber.

Her body ached and her limbs were heavy. But she didn't move. She kept her head stationed on the surface of the wood, no doubt having the scattered papers beneath stuck to her skin. She didn't want to move. Her flame had been totally extinguished. She tried to lie to herself and say it was because she was so tired.

But she knew.

Her body ached and her mind was hazy because she was hurting. Hurting because you hadn't returned from your mission and were officially declared missing.

She'd been in the Titan slaying business long enough now to know that "missing" just meant you're in a stomach. Maybe a limb here and there, if you were lucky enough to die between its teeth before being swallowed.

She was harsh on herself.

How dare she feel so defeated from this after everything she'd been through, after all she had already lost. Why was she so broken because one friend didn't return to her hopeful arms?

But you hadn't just been a friend. You were her lover.

With her view still horizontal, her beautiful chestnut eyes flickered over to the candle that was a little closer to her head than she liked.

Still, she didn't move.

Judging from the melting wax she'd been asleep for four hours, rendering it around 3am. The thought of another long night of swirling thoughts of despair made her eyes begin to water as if someone had just kicked her in the stomach. Hell, she'd rather have Levi kneeing her in the face over and over than feel this spiralling desperation she was becoming all too familiar with.

It was bitterly cruel that no one had noticed something was terribly a miss. Hanji often sealed herself away for days on end and neglecting to take care of herself. So the slim chance of her admitting she needed support was snuffed out entirely.

There was only one person who knew she was hurting and that was -

"Section Commander!"

She bolted up right as the door slammed open, confirming her worry that her papers were stuck to her face, probably smearing the ink.

"You're not going to believe this!" He barked loudly, his face serious and his hand clanched as adrenaline coursed through his veins. "Y/N's squad has returned!"

"...What?" She whispered, the papers floating down from her skin.

Her body was present in the room while you filed your reports of what happened out there, but her mind and heart were still adamant this was a dream.

You were unhamed. Alive. Breathing.

Levi, Erwin, Miche, Nanaba... The room was full but she only saw you.

"We were stuck in an abandoned building and were surrounded." You explained after you'd been checked over medically, fed and washed.

"We knew if we waited until after the sun sets we could move out. But thanks to Hanji's research, we knew that it would vary on the Titan how long it would take for them to become totally docile."

You flash her a gorgeous smile, your eyes filled with appreciation and longing. You hadn't really had time to become reunited just yet.

Dazed, Hanji returned to her office. You still had a lot to do and she was just glad you were still here on this cruel planet with her.

She began tidying the papers that were scattered all across the desk when her door opened - then shut again.

"I'm busy." She muttered not having the emotional strength to see anyone right now.

"Hanji..." Your smooth voice echos over to her.

Her eyes widen and she spins around, her heart beating doubletime.

Without a word, you strutted over to her, pulling your cloak to the floor with one swift movement, crashing your lips against hers.

A whimper left her lungs as she instantly crumbled at your touch, not just her body yearning for you, but her soul.

You didn't know if it was the second wave of life you've just experienced, the fact you had missed her or what - but you were starving for her.

You grab a fistful of her hair and firmly pull her head back, giving you access to her neck. You inhaled deeply as you devour her neck with your lips. God you missed her scent.

Her breathing rate was already hightened as your free hand relentlessly ran up and down her beautiful shape and onto her petite breast. Your hand then slithers in between a gap where you pull, ripping off her shirt resulting in buttons flying everywhere, clinking off the floor.

"Y/N..." She gasped, still not sure if this was a dream.

"Shh..." You soothe with a coy smile as you unhook her bra. "I'm here now, baby..."

A moan escapes her as you plant your mouth around her breast; sucking, flicking, biting, tasting...

You quickly become more urgent, having possibly had the chance to do this again snuffed out.

"Let me see that pretty mouth around me .." you pant, unzipping your trousers.

She instantly and happily obeyed, her head between your legs as she puts your most intimate area directly into her mouth and begins to work you.

You groan. "There's a good girl... God I missed fucking you."

You glance down, noticing tears streamed down her face from happiness and relief you were here with her once again. It was tragically beautiful. Her lashes fluttered as she went faster more than happy to relish this moment with you.

You grip her hair and buck your hips, her tongue had always been a wonder.

"Fuck, Hanji..." You breathe, your face warming. "You're such a good girl..."

Deciding you'd had enough you pick her up with ease and sit her onto the desk, pulling her trousers off along with her underwear.

You relish at the sight of her naked before you, her gorgeous pussy already gleaming with arousal, splayed on the surface for you like a freshly prepared meal.

Her face was reddening as she became desperate for your touch as you watched her, slowly stroking yourself.

"P-please, Y/N... Take me." She begged in a breathy whisper.

More than happy to oblige you dig your fingers into her thighs as you take your warm tongue and run it up her slit, her taste almost intoxicating.

She instantly let out a loud cry, one that was music to your ears and that you had missed. She had such a sensitive cunt and you knew all the right places to touch.

Her hands grabbed your hair as you lightly circled her clit with the tip of your tongue, painfully slowly. She clasped her thighs shut, trapping your head and she bucked her hips, whimpering loudly.

"So needy..." You smirk.

You spread her lips open with your fingers and you see her tight insides flexing, trying to grab onto any part of you it could.

She was already glistening with sweat.

"Oh princess. I'm just getting started." You frown before you plunge your two fingers inside of her, curling them and rocking her back and forth, her clit resubmerged in your mouth.

"Ah ~ !" She cried out loudly, her fingertips digging into your head. "Ah ~ ahh!"

Her face is totally flushed red. You liked to compare it to when she gets excited by Titans. The way her face goes crimson and her eyes widen and her breath staggers... That's exactly how she is now.

You vary the pressure in your fingers, her cries of passion echoing loudly around the room. Her vocals were desperate, hungry yet pleading all at the same time.

"That's right..." You groan into her. "Let everyone know who's back."

The authority in your voice hurled her right off the edge. She begins to writhe under your mercy.

"Y/N! I'm going... to..." Her thighs begin to quiver. "Please don't... Stop!"

Her head throws back, her eyes in the back of her head her gorgeous tits bouncing with each thrust of your arm. Her insides pull you in deeper and deeper, the loud squelching sounds like music to your ears as shes lost in her golden moment.

You hiss as small spurts of liquid shoot down your forearm, slowing to a stop and tasting your fingers as she floats back down to earth.

Without letting her recover, you slide your tongue down her throat letting her taste herself from you and you immediately return to circling her overstimulated clit.

She pulls at her hair, writhing, a total mess as white hot pleasure surges through her.

"That's it... Keep it going..." You coax her with encouragement. "Tell me who makes you feel good..."

"Ah! Y/N! Yes! Yes! Oh GOD, YES!" she sobs loudly. "Don't ever. .. stop!"

Your fingers return to her insides, her glistening body squirming beneath you as she cries out profanities; snaking her body around on the desk, back arching.

"You're a mess." You comment. "My mess."

"All... Yours...! P-please! Y/N!" She pleads with you as she's pushed through the delicious discomfort of over stimulation into another orgasm.

Her cry goes higher and higher in pitch as she cums again, until it's inaudible to human ears, her tongue lulls out of her mouth as more gushing liquid spurts down your arm.

"Good. Cum for me." You demand within your panting.

She's feral and spent at the same time after she's finished, pulling you down over her and kissing you deeply.

"I need you. Please, Y/N." Her gorgeous chocolate eyes are heavy lidded as you line up your sex with hers, waves of heat rolling out of her, engulfing you.

You thrust harshly, your desires now burning too brightly to take your time, grabbing her hips as the friction between you is slick with her cum.

Her groans are deeper now, unable to even lift her head as she just lets you carry her back into ecstasy with your movements.

Your primal desires are stripped bare, grabbing her head and hunching your back thrusting deeply and quickly, grunts passing your mouth. You needed to cum.

Your ears are stuffed with her loud cries, her nails clawing at your back greedily, pulling you as close as possible as you feel yourself losing it and edging into your own piece of heaven.

"Fuck!" You bark as you're taken away; her screams beneath you becoming muffled as you both swirl in the heavens together.

Collapsing onto her panting, she quakes and tremors under your body while you pepper her wet skin with kisses.

"I've missed you..." She whispers half dazed.

Two floors above Captain Levi is lying on his bed, eyes wide in almost horror.

No fuckin' wonder I can't get any sleep around here...

I hope you enjoyed this. My computer is still being fixed so it had to be done on my phone, hope it wasn't too terrible.

Gosh, Hanji is hot. 💦🔥