#could you even fathom that parts of you would exist to stand in front of your grave 200 years later?

[dordey]

🕰️

[alkaline-wtr]

WE WILL SURVIVE

- - CHAPTER 5 - -

Graves x reader Description: Reader and Graves help a couple of troubled survivors during a stop at a gas station. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Graves x reader, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader,angst, depictions of suicide, gore, blood, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 3.3k

My Masterlist

** Woah! Ch 5 is finally done??! This one is intense! Please, consider the trigger warnings before diving in. Originally, I was excited about this chapter but know I'm not too sure. This chapter definitely had the most drafts out of all of them. I think it's decent but, something feels like its missing, it may just need a bit more proofreading later when I've had more time to sit with it. However, for the sake of moving the story along I wanted to get it up ASAP. On the bright side GHOST IS BACK NEXT CHAPTER!! YAY!! Hopefully y'all aren't too mad at him. Enjoy.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist please, let me know.

<< PART 1 / << PART 4

It was quiet from your place in the passenger seat. Only the engine's drone was heard as Phillip cruised down the road. By now, the city was far behind you, and the road narrowed down as you entered rural areas. Miles and miles of fields and farmlands surrounded you.

You sigh, leaning back a bit. Graves glances in your direction for a second before returning to the road.

"Good?"

Graves asked, keeping his question short. You let the silence linger a moment longer. It had been a couple of hours since one of you had broken the silence. It left your lips feeling heavy. It took extra effort to push out the words from your throat.

"Yeah."

Your voice came out crackly and hoarse. You cleared your throat before continuing.

"What's our plan?"

Your voice is soft. The hopelessness had caught up to you at some point in the silence. The fear, existential dread, it all swirled together in your head now that you had a chance to organize all the thoughts and feelings you'd been harboring.

What were you moving towards? Even Phillip couldn't answer that. There was no more meaning, no more goals. This life had been swallowed up by the infected. Nothing more than an aimless fight for survival.

Phillip could sense the sadness in your empty expression.

"Well... for now we need a gas station. After that... I don't know but, whatever it is we'll be okay."

His words carried a tinge of reassurance in them but, it felt empty. You couldn't fathom how anyone could view this situation as panning out 'okay'. There was living sure. Yet, what was left to live for?

"Hey."

Phillip's words pulled you from your thoughts.

"It's going to be okay."

You nod in response. Phillip was right. For however long you had left, you would be ‘okay’. The question was would you ever be more than that? Would the rest of this existence be a miserable fight for survival?

"I'm going to sleep."

The words left your lips but, you hadn't been sure where they’d come from. Phillip however only smiled.

"Alright."

You shifted in the seat crossing your arms over yourself and resting a foot on the dashboard. Phillip just kept his eyes forward on the road ahead as you closed your eyes.

When you woke from your nap the car had stopped. You felt a thin layer of sticky sweat coating your skin. The sun was in its early stages of setting, as the afternoon shifted into evening. You guessed it had to be about 4 o'clock by now.

Sitting up you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Phillip was standing in front of the car looking down at the hood. You pushed open the door immediately feeling the refreshing breeze as it blew past. It was a contrast from the still warmth inside the truck.

"Sleep well?"

Phillip teased. The passenger door shut with a thud. Broken asphalt crunched like gravel beneath your boots as you moved to stand beside him.

There was a map laying out on the hood.

"What’s this?"

You ask glancing over the busy-looking map.

"I'm looking for somewhere to fuel up. It shows a small station just ahead. Maybe another hour or so."

Phillip explained. You nod.

"Will we make it?"

You ask resting your hands on your hips. The question was valid, you’d been driving for hours, and it was unlikely this truck had a full tank of gas when he’d found it.

He starts to fold up the map.

"Yeah, we should. Let's hope there's gas when we get there, or we'll be doing a lot of walking."

You both head back inside but, as you climb back into the passenger seat Phillip passes the driver's door and peaks into the back instead. Your eyes scan the rearview mirror observing his actions. He seemed to be looking for something in his bag. As Phillip slides back into the passenger seat he hands you an open can. You peered into it,

"Peaches?"

You asked, eyebrow raised.

"You should eat something."

He says, starting up the truck.

"And what about you?"

Phillip shrugs.

"I can eat when we get to our stop. It's fine, go ahead."

The hour passes quickly. Graves pulls into the gas station and turns off the truck with a relieved huff.

"Alright, here we are,"

He gets out and you follow.

"Why don't you head inside, and I'll figure out how we can get some fuel."

He gently slaps your back encouragingly. Was he serious? He wanted you to go inside alone?

"Wait. You want me to clear it myself?"

The anxious pit settled in your stomach. You still weren't confident with your combat skills. It was different to be on a roof with a sniper but, on the ground with a knife?

"I-I don't know, I can't-"

"It's okay. Look, I'll be right behind you, okay?"

Phillip's words only slightly soothed the fear and anxiety. It was a more reassuring thought than being left completely alone. At least he would be there over your shoulder in case you got into trouble.

Finally, you nod and the both of you start towards the doors of the abandoned shop. You pulled the knife from your belt reaching for the door.

"Hold on."

Phillip's voice cut through the air. He quickly adjusts your grip on the knife.

"Stay sharp. And Keep tension here,"

His hand squeezed at your bicep.

"When you're going in blind, you should be prepared for anything."

He points down at your left foot.

"Widen your stance there, You want to be sturdy on your feet just in case there's any pushback."

With all the corrections made, Phillip steps aside.

"Alright."

He gestures for you to continue. Your anxiety had settled more now knowing that Phillip intended to teach you rather than throw you into the ring alone.

You push open the door. The windows had been boarded up from the inside leaving the shop musty and dark. Heavy breaths weighed down your chest as the floorboards creaked with every cautious step.

Phillip trailed behind you, his arms loose at his sides. He himself didn’t seem prepared at all for a fight. You didn't understand why he would trust you to protect him. Especially enough to leave his guard down.

You kept your head on a swivel making sure to take in every corner of the room.

"Don't just turn your head, turn your body with it. You have to have a strong stance. An attack could come from any direction."

You nod taking in his words. You shuffle your feet turning your body as you scan the room.

"Look for all the doors. You need to be aware of every exit, and every potential room every crevice is dangerous in a dark building."

You kept Phillip's instructions in mind counting each door. The door you'd entered through was one. A door in the far-right corner made two.

There were two more in the far-left corner. One is on the back wall, most likely leading outside, and the fourth is on the adjacent wall, which is labeled with a unisex bathroom placard.

"There is nothing here."

Your voice was low and laced with panic. Anticipation hung in the air as you waited for something to emerge from the darkness. Each creak and thump of your boot sounded louder with each step.

"Good, then we are clear."

Phillip says,

"Now, keep alert and move to the next room."

Phillip moved to the middle of the room to watch behind you as you continued forward to the first door. With shaky steps, you continued around the counter. Your chest tightened as you moved further into the shop, peering over the counter to make sure nothing lurked in the shadows.

"Hey Y/N... You're missing something."

You look at Phillip confused. He gestures to the entrance.

"The light from outside won't reach beyond the door. How do you plan to see if there are any threats?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You'd been so caught up in the anxiety of having to take the lead in clearing the shop that you hadn't even thought of something as simple as bringing a flashlight into a dark room.

"Right."

You take out Ghost's dim flashlight once again and hold it in your free hand, keeping the knife sturdy in the other.

You twist the door nob opening it with a click. Returning to the tight stance Phillip had shown you. Shuffling forward, you used the toe of your boot to nudge open the door.

Behind the door was a small office. Equipped with a computer desk, a filing cabinet, and a few crates.

"Clear."

You call, Your voice tense. Willing your shaky legs to back out. You finished off clearing the rest of the shop. Fortunately, there had been nothing to fight off.

"See, that wasn't so bad huh?"

You shrug. Phillip's approach made sense. It was better for you to get more hands-on survival experience. Shooting stagnant bottles on a rooftop could only teach you so much but, what would have happened if something had been in the building?

"I guess not."

Phillip squeezes your shoulder.

"Go ahead and gather what you can. Anything edible, or useful. I'll be out back."

You nod as Phillip leaves through the back door in search of some way to fuel the truck.

The shop had seemingly been raided already but, you were able to find a few snacks, and sodas as well as a pack of batteries. You carried a plastic bag full of your findings to the truck and placed it in the back.

Phillip made his way around the building with two gas cans in hand. He places the gas cans in the bed of the truck securing them with a cord.

"Alright are you re-"

Phillip's question was cut off by the sound of a woman, her blood-curdling scream sent chills through your body.

"Shit."

He cursed under his breath before sprinting down the road.

"Wait!"

You called after him. Whatever was happening up ahead was bad but, staying behind felt even more terrifying. The thought of something happening to Phillip and you not being there to help? What would you even do with yourself?

“Phillip!”

You called as you began jogging after him.

The woman’s screams only grew louder. You could see a man beside Phillip, helping him fight off a couple of infected. You slowed down stopping just feet away from the scene.

The woman, the one whose screams you’d heard, kneeled in the grass beside the road. The front of her was stained with crimson. Lying limp over her lap was a little girl.

The girl's torso was mangled beyond recognition. Blood pooled in her mother's lap leaking into the yellow grass below.

You covered your mouth with your hands stifling a horrified cry as well as the bile that threatened to rise from your stomach. You were no stranger to the viscera present since the outbreak but, it had been a while since you'd witnessed something this graphic.

Phillip grunts as he plunges his knife into the last standing infected. He wiped his brow with his forearm and started towards the crying woman.

“She’s bit!"

Phillip exclaimed. A gasp left you at the site of the bite wound. The veiny infection had already begun to spread. It was one of those moments that you wished you could rewind and go back to before it happened. Like when you shatter a glass on the kitchen floor and hope to yourself that it wasn't true so you won't have to clean the mess.

"Y/n! Go get the first aid!”

Phillip ordered as he inspected the woman’s wounded arm. You could hardly process Phillip's words. You didn't know these people but something about the scene playing out before you brought up memories of your past. A painful reminder of how you'd ended up alone in the first place.

The man turned to you as you took a couple of hesitant steps backward.

“No! Please listen. You must leave!”

He pleaded, his accent thick.

"They are coming. You must go!"

You paused in your tracks,

“What?”

You begin to ask but he interjects.

"Here,"

The man’s shaky hands fidget in his pockets before pulling out a crumpled paper. He places the paper in your hand. You were unable to speak. Your mind was overloaded by the many things happening.

"Take it. Take it, there is a sanctuary. Please, please. You have to go! You have to go!”

The man was crying and frantic as he tried to usher Phillip away.

“We can help you!"

Phillip says trying to reason with the man. He didn't seem to care about the words Phillip spoke. You wondered if Phillip knew deep down, just like you, that his statement was empty. There really wasn't much you could do for them.

“We have a vehicle.”

He adds holding his hands up defensively.

“No. Go there! Be safe.”

The man cuts him off.

“My wife... She will die.”

The man admits gesturing to the woman. Phillip shakes his head,

“But you can still come.”

The man shakes his head backing away. He was adamant in refusing Phillip's offer.

“When I’ve lost them both, there is nothing there for me.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn't want to live anymore without his family. It made you feel guilty for still continuing without yours. Glancing at Phillip you could see the mental turmoil he was feeling. On one hand, he wanted to help the couple in any way he could. However, a part of him understood the man's decision.

"Our daughter... she was tired. We thought we had time, the horde was far behind, so we rested, and camped for the night. But they had caught up."

The woman explains. Her voice breaks as she begins to cry again caressing her daughter's pale face. Your heart broke for the family.

Phillip thought for a moment. The man speaks before he can.

"Leave us. Go to the sanctuary, you can live."

Phillip nods looking at you with a blank expression. He turns to the man.

"Thank you."

Phillip starts back towards the gas station. You couldn't believe it. Was he really going to just leave? Of course, logically, you were aware that you served no purpose to this couple but, your empathy fought against this notion.

"Wait. No, Phillip, what are- we can't just leave them!"

"Yes Y/N, we can."

His tone was that of defeat. He'd given up.

"No!"

You turned and began to follow him.

"Phillip!"

He turned with an irritated sigh.

"Y/N! He made his decision. We can't do anything."

He snapped. Phillip had never acted this way. Ever since you'd first run into him, he'd been nothing but optimistic and willing to help. How could he choose now to betray his sense of humanity?  

"We have to try!"

You pleaded. You morally couldn't bring yourself to just leave these people to die.

"No. It's done Y/N! He doesn't want to come."

You huffed, Phillip continued walking away. You turn to look at the couple. The man now kneeled beside his wife attempting to soothe her as she sobbed in his arms.

The trees rustled across the road. Hollow groans filled the air, and your heart leaped into your throat. Phillip stopped, whipping his head around.

Infected began to trickle out onto the road. Your eyes widened, and you reached for your knife.

"Phillip! Do something."

Phillip? Why couldn't you do something? You were well equipped. Was it your cowardice that held you back? Keeping you glued in place, unable to take action? He pushes you back and drives his knife into the closest head. The body drops to the pavement and Phillip grabs your arm.

"Let's go! Back to the truck."

You stumbled as he pushed you with him.

"Wait! Wait! What about them."

Phillip seemed annoyed that you were still fighting him on this. He glances between you and the couple with a frustrated groan. Although he wanted to just accept the man's decision to stay behind, he couldn't let you see him as some heartless fool either.

"Alright. Go! I'll catch up."

You nod turning and starting to run back to the truck. Phillip hurries to the couple, he pulls the pistol from his thigh double-checking it's loaded and ready to go, before placing it in the man's hand.

"Hold them off as long as you can. I'm sorry brother."

The man gives Phillip an appreciative nod. He aims the pistol firing a couple of shots. Phillip follows after you. More infected flood out of the tree line and onto the road.

Phillip's footsteps pounded behind you.

"Go! Go!"

You didn't need to be told again. You threw yourself into the passenger seat trying to catch your breath. A couple infected were trailing behind Phillip as he climbed into the driver's seat and started up.

You kept your hands out beside you to steady yourself as the truck wobbled with each sharp movement.

Phillip veered the truck to the left with a jolt. A body thudded against the hood as he attempted to Navigate through the horde.

The scene behind you was like a train wreck, you couldn't keep your eyes off the couple. The man holding his wife protectively behind them as they fought for their lives.

You watched on in horror as the woman screamed, being ripped away from her husband. He cried keeping his grip desperately tight on her hand. It was too late. They'd been surrounded. The infected wasted no time sinking their teeth into her back.

Phillip kept focused on the road. You flinched at the sound of a single gunshot going off once more ringing through the air. The haunting reality setting in as you'd just witnessed the man turn the gun on his own lover. Were you less courageous than him for turning your back on your family instead of fighting to the end like he had for his wife?

You finally looked away when you saw him put the barrel of the pistol to his own temple. His sad gaze aimed at the sky. Another shot. You winced, tears rolling down your cheeks. The guilt weighed heavily in your stomach. This new world was cruel and unforgiving.

The remaining daylight faded away over the horizon. Silence was the only thing in the air anymore. Phillip knew the events of this afternoon weren't sitting well with you. He wanted more than anything to say something, to take away the images replaying in your mind but, he knew better than anyone that there wasn't anything he could say to fix this.

As the moon took its place high in the sky Phillip decided to call it a night. He pulled over on the side of the road and got out of the truck. You glanced over emotionlessly as he moved the bags from the truck bed into the cab. He climbed back in locking the doors.

"It's been a long day. Let's get some sleep huh?"

You follow his lead as he leans back in his seat and gets comfortable. The cab wasn't very big, and with the bags, it was even more cramped.

"You know, there was nothing we could've done right?"

Phillip's voice was barely a whisper. His eyes were full of concern as they lingered on you.

"I know..."

You respond quietly. You'd gone back and forth on the matter in your head all night. You knew just as well, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind was convincing you otherwise. Phillip nods.

"He made his choice. All we could have done is respect it. There was no point in getting ourselves killed too."

His light eye bore into you from the driver's side. You met his gaze. Neither of you spoke. No more needed to be said at that moment. You understood Phillip's actions, and he understood your guilt. Both of you understood the situation for what it was and how complicated the morality of the problem could be.

"Goodnight."

You break the silence. Phillip sighs and gives you a small smile.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

PART 6 >>

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[aoioozora]

Watery Grave

Content: Pirate! Ghost x Sea Goddess! Reader, enemies, no happy ending TW: Blood, gore, death

From your underwater abode, you looked up at the wispy streams of daylight flickering and filtering through the rippling seawater. For the past few months, the waters thrummed with a certain uncertainty and fear. Trouble had been brewing upon the surface, enough for your worshippers to increase their prayers, pleas, and offerings to you, begging for your interference.

A large and familiar shadow floated over the surface and made its way past, far above your abode, momentarily blocking out the sunlight. You rose, took hold of the jet black sword next to you and fastened it to your belt. With a strong flick of your tail, you propelled yourself upward many fathoms to the surface, cutting through the waters past the aquatic life of all shapes and sizes which made way for their ruler's urgency.

It was the right time to strike.

As your head poked out from under the water, you were face to face with a massive wooden ship. Diving again, you swam away to make way for it and then resurfaced to take a closer look. It was unmistakable: the Jolly Roger ruddied in the blood of victims fluttered proudly with the wind as it stayed anchored to the apex of the main mast. Men of all ages, armed with swords, some gaunt and others rotund bustled about the vessel, singing shanties over their duties. At the helm stood the personage most complained about.

A tall, muscular man, Captain of the vessel, stood steering at the rudder, his long blond locks tamed in a single braid and a soiled red scarf wrapped around his head. Upon his face was a mask rumored to have been made out of a victim's skull. Nobody knew his real name, but from the mask alone, he was dubbed 'Ghost', and even called the Underworld's favourite hound for how many people he'd sent there, certainly increasing the work for the god of death and the dead. But you scoffed at the name, for you knew the god of the Underworld had a hound more favoured than this man.

From what you heard of the prayers of your worshippers, this man was an infernal menace. His band of pirates attacked the kingdom's navy ships, home and foreign merchant ships, and fishermen's boats, looting, setting on fire, and upturning every last one of them and bathing in their blood in cold revelry. You witnessed ship after ship, body after body sink into the water that was a part of you, all mingled with the bitter and salty taste of blood that you hated.

They attacked, terrorized, and ransacked the towns and cities, and in their blood soaked hands they held their victims in an iron grip. Not even the navy or the king could stand before their powerful band of bloodthirsty ruffians. That wasn't all. They even looted and destroyed temples and shrines built for you; these heathen didn't believe you existed and watched them.

Believing or not, would they stand a chance against the goddess of the sea upon whose domain they sailed and polluted?

It was time to put an end to this man.

Diving back underneath, another flick of your tail propelled you ahead of the ship several miles. With a twirl of your finger, you began to stir the seas a little, making them a little unstable and stormy but not enough to cause any alarm to the ship yet.

When you were far enough from the ship that it appeared as a little blip against the now darkening horizon, you emerged fully from the water, your tail now changing to a pair of legs as you stood upon the surface, watching the ship approach.

You raised your scaly arms slowly in front of you and at your behest, a small wave pushed forward towards the ship, beating against it and pushing it back slightly. You clenched your fists and the wave held fast, flattening against the surface. You then yanked your arms back harshly, as if heaving a net full of fish into a boat. The flattened wave rose high from behind the ship and hurtled the vessel forward at a speed that was enough to send them shrieking.

With your far seeing eye, you watched Ghost throw around frantic orders to his crew. The deck was flooded and you could see them scrambling to get the water out. With another swipe of your hand, another wave was sent crashing against them, nearly threatening to topple over the vessel. You raised your eye heavenwards and saw the darkening clouds looming overhead.

"I have to get his underlings out of the way first," you thought to yourself as you orchestrated the wild movements of the sea, sending the ship tossing and turning as a drunken man, causing the poor pirate captain to be unable to take control with the rudder.

"Drop the anchors!" called Ghost in his booming, sand-like voice.

"Futile," you murmured, watching as his crew, beaten by the boisterous waves, scrambled to let the anchors go. Over the crash of the water and the wind, the chains clattered loudly; the anchor flew downwards, splashing water. No sooner it sunk, a single snap of your finger was enough to send an underwater current strong enough to snap the iron chains.

The effect of it was immediately noticed by Ghost, who saw that the sea found it easier to toss his vessel. He ordered for the anchor to be pulled back up.

"It's broken, Captain!" called one of his underlings.

Ghost cursed out loud, still trying to take control with the rudder, but it appeared to him that the sea had a mind of its own. The rough tossing threw a handsome chunk of his crew into the sea; you sent the hungry sharks to feast on them, their blood-curdling screams the last thing to echo in the air as they were pulled into the depths. As their blood mingled in the water, you could taste it in your mouth; you swallowed harshly. Nobody's blood ever tasted good to you.

Your eye turned back to Ghost. Losing most of his crew all at once and right in front of him certainly made his heart suffer the sharp pangs of loss, but adrenaline forced him to look ahead and desperately turn the rudders to control the ship. The darkening skies poured fourth their showers, blocking out all hope of navigation with their fog, only adding to the misery.

"The gods are angry with us, Captain!" the second-in-command, a blue-eyed and brown haired fellow named Johnny cried, holding on to the rudder to keep himself from being thrown into the sea.

"Utter foolishness!" growled Ghost, "Do you believe in these "gods" now that you're in a storm just like any other?!"

"Captain, you know that this storm is unlike any we have ever sailed through!" Johnny exclaimed, turning his face away to avoid a slap from the waves from knocking his breath out of his lungs.

"I do not believe it!" Ghost yelled adamantly, aggressively twisting and turning at the rudder, even though he knew it was futile.

"They must be real! Remember that we have destroyed the temples of the sea goddess?! Those locals have warned us of her wrath!" Johnny tried to reason out his newfound belief, but Ghost was determined to be unreasonable.

The second-in-command was about to speak again, when a shadow in the foggy rain behind them arrested his attention. The shadow walked towards them upon the helm, its glowing golden eyes predatory and vicious, its size increasing in the fog as it drew nearer. Johnny's knees lost their strength and he collapsed to the drenched floors at Ghost's feet, watching with bulging eyes and mouth trembling and agape at this creature that approached slowly.

"Johnny, what are you doing?!" Ghost scolded, but any more words were halted when he saw the look of dread and fear in his lackey's face.

He turned over his shoulder. Standing right behind him was none other than you, goddess of the sea, towering over him a full foot. You stared down at him with your golden eyes. Fear seized his heart as he stared back.

"Who... are you?" Ghost managed to blurt out as his eyes swept over your armor of thick, iridescent scales, clawed hands, and flowing, windswept hair. Before you could answer him, he croaked, "Wait, you are..."

The towering creamy marble temples and idols of you that he personally trashed in the coastal towns came to mind; how he ransacked the offerings and filled your shrines with the blood of your priests and worshippers. The face of the fallen idol he had stepped on was familiar; it was yours.

"Goddess of the sea," you opened your mouth to supply, and it gave him the opportunity to see your serrated, razor sharp, shark-like teeth.

Your voice sounded like the rumbles of the raging sea and wind to him, and infamous and unbelieving as he was, even his knees gave away, making him fall prostrate at your feet. Johnny clung to him, face pale with fright.

"Spare us, goddess! Forgive us!" cried Johnny in pathetic shivers, groveling and begging at your feet.

Your clawed hand placed itself upon the hilt of your sword. "No more," you answered, "You lot have gone far enough, and I have excused your behaviour long enough." Though your voice was calm and even, it was apparent to them from the boisterous waves, the howling winds, and the torrents that you were far from it.

"Please!" Johnny raised his head, continuing to plead.

You drew out your sword. The next thing Johnny felt was the sharp, sizzling hot sting of the sharp metal against his neck slicing against his skin, muscle, blood vessel, and bone cutting through him like he was room temperature butter. With a single sweep, his severed head was sent flying against the bannisters of the helm. His lifeless body slumped down at your feet, his life blood spurting, oozing, and pooling at your feet and at Ghost's knees, soaking into his clothes and the wood beneath him. The Captain of the vessel was frozen with fear and shock. He stared with wide, horrified eyes at the headless corpse of his second-in-command, and at his head being tossed to and fro with the ship, spreading blood all over the helm. He felt something tear in his heart.

"Johnny! Johnny!" he cried and screamed despairingly and agonizingly over the roar of the tempest when he had finally found his voice. He clasped the shoulders of the corpse and shook them vainly, as if it would revive his only friend.

The dead man's blood mingled with the seawater at your feet, and again you felt the bitter taste. You grimaced at it. You took a step back from the two, mercifully allowing Ghost a moment to mourn.

"Rise, you blasphemer," you then commanded, now easing the waves a little, "Draw out your sword and fight me."

"What power have I over a deity?" he answered without looking at you, his trembling hand placed over the back of his dead friend.

You scoffed at this meek answer. "Do not you remember how you destroyed my temples, claiming that you were stronger than the gods?" You pointed the tip of the sword under his chin, nudging his face upwards to meet your eyes, "Prove yourself."

Johnny's severed head rolled over to Ghost's knee at that moment. The fear and panic was frozen into his features, and the Captain felt the weight of his dead friend's reasoning heavy on his heart.

Ghost rose to his feet. You pulled your sword away from his chin, taking several steps back, watching as he drew out his cutlass. He raised his weary, mournful head to look back at you; for a moment he dared to feel something other fear and anger: a sense of awe at your beauty.

"You may be a goddess, but you murdered my only friend in cold blood," Ghost clenched both his jaw and his cutlass as his eyes lingered on the black sword in your hand. Jet black and shining with an ominous, otherworldly glow, it looked like a longsword forged by the gods themselves. The sight of the weapon churned his stomach, as if warning him to not be foolhardy and trifle with it.

"Have you finally realised the taste of your own medicine?" you ask, now beginning to circle him. He copied. "Though I do not murder in cold blood as you assume," your glowing eyes stared right into his dark ones, "Inflicting death is my last resort."

"Is it likewise for me then, goddess? Do you deign to be merciful unto me by letting me live a few moments more before my death?"

"Certainly, I do," you answered, "I must first ensure that you are bark as well as bite."

Ghost blinked once. He didn't see you standing before him.

"En garde, heathen!" you called, appearing directly in front of him. You brought down your sword, aiming to slice his head in half.

Ghost was quick to obey. His arm jerked upwards. Both swords met with a deafening clang. A struggle for power ensued, with the two pushing and grinding their swords against each other. The man was surprised at how you were able to swing your longsword in such a cramped helm.

"Is this a fair fight?" asked Ghost, pushing back against you, feeling his muscles tense and burn at the immense pressure you were giving right back at him. You were after all, in every sense of the word, a deity.

"No, however, for your benefit and mine, I am holding back," you drew back your weapon, easing on the pressure a little.

"You are as merciful as they say you are," he grunted, pushing back.

"I thank you."

The swords grated against each other, causing sparks to flicker at the rough contact. Pulling your sword away, you thrust the long blade to his side to injure him. But Ghost spun on his heel, turning sideways to evade the thrust. He lunged his cutlass to your neck, only for it to be stopped by your scaly armor.

You slashed horizontally against his carelessly open torso. He stomped his back foot further back to widen the gap, narrowly missing his stomach. The tip grazed against his soiled white shirt, burning the torn edges of the fabric into soot. Ghost felt the unusual heat of the weapon against his body and blocked with his weapon, and the swords ground against each other once again.

"What is that sword of yours? It is unlike anything I've ever seen," said Ghost with admiration, stepping forward and pushing against you, daring to meet your golden eyes.

"Of course it is, because it has been forged by the god of the Underworld," you explained, "with its finest underworld obsidian. It is death to any mortal who touches it."

"No wonder it burned when it touched me." He thought.

"And what, did you steal this weapon?" he taunted, smiling under his mask.

"I do not sink myself down to do such devious things," you glared at him, "I have been given complete authority to wield this sword and to kill you."

"And yet you aren't." He continued to look into your eyes, mesmerized by the liquidy gold color with flecks of brown and teal appearing as spokes on a wheel, converging into your black pupils.

This man, Ghost, had been bestowed the privilege of peering into the eyes of arguably one of the most beautiful goddesses of the realm at such close proximity; some would consider him blessed and fortunate, others the opposite, though he didn't realize it.

"Your time is not yet, but it is at hand," You looked back into his dark brown eyes, "and all of heaven, earth, and sea will bear witness."

The fight continued, and so did the tempest. He was an excellent swordsman and put up a fine fight, and you genuinely felt it a shame to kill him. However, duty was paramount. You cornered him to the teetering tip of the bowsprit, pointing your sword at him. He stood in silence, gasping heavily as he considered the raging sea beneath him and its goddess right in front of him.

"You are determined to not spare me, I presume?" he asked.

"Most determined."

The winds slowed from howls to whispers, the rain lightened, and the seas calmed slightly. Ghost maintained his balance on the narrow bowsprit, pondering. He knew he'd eventually die at sea, but never did he think he'd be face to face with the very being he didn't believe in. He looked at you, remembering the sayings of the locals, "Nobody who sees the goddess of the sea lives to tell the tale," and how true it appeared to him now, those words he called old wives tales. Your sword was pointed at him threateningly; even in the dull weather, it glowed with an ominous light, reminding him that Death himself loomed over his guilty head.

You waited, watching him closely to see what he'd say in return. Would be plead and beg? Would he be cocky even at death's door? Or something else?

He scoffed, making you raise a brow. The air was then echoing with his laughter as he declared boastfully, not knowing from whence his own self-confidence came from, "Pity, but the jaws of hell can never hold me down!"

You sighed, "Such is the hubris of man."

Bringing the sword to your side away from him, you lunged. You opened your mouth and sunk your razor-sharp teeth into his neck. He let out a bellow of pain as you pushed him off the bowsprit, sending both of you hurtling into the disturbed depths. Upon contact with the surface of the water from such a height, Ghost felt like he fell down on an iron fortress. The pain pulsated and surged like waves of an earthquake, rattling and breaking his feeble, mortal bones. As the two of you sank, the biting cold water choked and muffled his screams into air bubbles as you held him fast between your jaws.

He was thrown down to the underwater floor, feeling the weight of the entire sea pressing down on his now frail, broken body. When you let his neck go, his blood spurt out, diffusing with the water. You spat the salty liquid out, not even wanting to swallow it, and wiped your lips. He lay there on the ground, somehow still alive, but eyes dimming by the second as he watched the daylight several fathoms over him flickering. You stood over over him with your feet planted on the ground on either side of his waist, blocking out the dim light from his vision. Taking the hilt of your sword in both your hands, you pointed the blade downwards, pressing the tip gently over his heart.

"Have you any last words, heathen?" you asked, staring down at him.

He looked back at you, and there was a certain twinkle in his dark eyes even then as he took in your features. One last time, he observed how your flowing hair floated in the water, how your golden eyes glowed, and how your iridescent scales flickered against the filtering daylight. He opened his quivering lips and croaked a muffled response over the water filling his lungs.

"You are beautiful."

You closed your eyes for a moment and then opened them again.

"I thank you."

He felt the burning metal of your deadly sword sink into his chest, piercing into his heart as you thrust the weapon in. His eyes remained on you, even as they dimmed and his consciousness slowly ebbed away, filling him with a strange peace.

You pulled out your sword and looked down at his body. His blood rose from the wound and mingled into the water like the soft, coiling wisps of smoke of burnt incense in your temples.

You wiped the blood off the sword, signifying the end of your duty. Stooping down, you sliced off the strings of his skull mask and pulled it away from his face to take a look at this infamous man. A pity he was so handsome.

Taking a step back, you rose and swam away with the prize, letting him rest in his watery grave.

[ranposbabe]

Infidel | Johan Liebert x Reader

Chapter 24

Chaos and Havoc was all that surrounded him. He was calm and steady. Natural.

It was as if he had done this a hundred times. He looked so afar as he stared on as if he was anticipating the despair that was about to unfold. His aura oozed red. Not from the flames but from the despair within.

A sudden cold breeze erupted yet it did nothing to disturb his stand.

Strands of blond were evidently seen against the flames that flickered past his delicate skin. His calmness looked out of place yet his eyes showed the undeniable truth.

He belonged amongst the chaos.

It was as if someone took their fingers and was forcing your eyes to be peeled wide open. The urgent scene of bright lights flashing before you was overwhelming.

Your eyes raced around your stuffy bedroom. All but you remained completely still. It was only when you sat up, you truly fathomed what had occurred. A dream. A literal dream occurred while you were asleep. You never dreamed before.

What was the purpose of them anyways besides being a trick ?

As if you were a puppet, the strings that controlled your legs forced you to move.

The strings tightening around your brain came to a conclusion. You were going somewhere you never thought you would ever see again.

It was dreadful. Could no one else look upon the eerie sight that seemed to not exist amongst others.

You were hallucinating. Most definitely.

The “church” looked like it was rotting from the inside out. You walked in and its wooden like figure was dark and looked burned.

As you strolled by you notice the rows of chairs covered in dust. All the candles at the alter, so close together it would only take a moment for a catastrophe to occur.

“Why do you keep coming back here ?” That same girl or whatever she was spoke out. She was kneeling like before and her voice was too soft yet you could hear and understand every word. She was like a blazing candle in the dark. Her silk white gown glowed so bright.

“I’ve only been here once ?” You casually replied, kneeling along her side. But unlike her, your hands didn’t link in prayer. You don’t pray.

“You’re practically slitting your own wrists at this point. Causing yourself this hassle.” Her eyes were closed as if she was to be punished for opening them.

“He put his fingers in my brain.” She spoke of horrofic details as if they didn’t happen. Perhaps they didn’t especially since her voice and face was calm compared to her words. “Scooped parts of them up and swapped them around like he was messing with sand. Making a sandcastle he was.”

“He’ll know if he’s truly taken your brain apart.

“If you’re clever you’ll play along. If not.”

There’s a warning in her look as she momentarily sent you a gaze. It only then you notice a stitching on her temple. Little but noticeable, a cut so deep it probably did touch her brain. She has that dead look in her empty eyes.

“He’ll bash your brains in till you’re nothing.”

Then abruptly she screams pure horror. Your hands cover your ears as the screeching starts to burn your hearing. Blood began to never end pouring down her face from the cut as it split open, leaving into her eye. Giving her the appearance of someone wounded.

Someone in danger.

Your neck began to ache and stiffen due to sweat. With no control whatsoever, you slowly stood up, taking small steps backs until you hit against a row of seats. You unwillingly sit down. You know there’s the soft sound of footsteps closing in behind you so suddenly.

You know it’s him.

“I have no evidence.” You spoke with such dispear “I have nothing.” Stating the fact makes it suddenly real. You can still see the flames even when you look up to the candles still so raw. “But I know it was you.” Your ears began to ring.

Buzz…buzz..buzz…….

“I never dream and even so I wouldn’t bet anything solely on that.” Your healing yet broken arm rests on your lap. Your other hand clenched tighter on the seat in front of you, knuckles turning white.

“So why now ?” You rather ask yourself. Not him who stands behind, luring over you like you’re his prey.

“You dream of me ?” He leans down, his lips too close to your ear. Your lips tightened at the abrupt audacity. His fingers brushes against your arm and rather smoothly he locks his fingers within your tensed fingers. Your nails scratching against the wooden seat.

You wish you turned your head the opposite direction way but there’s no denying it now when you lift your chin and your wide eyes meet his calming pair.

Perhaps it was already intimidating due to him standing behind you while you sat but as you hopelessly stared, you saw it.

He looked dangerous. He was going to feast on the prey. But you stood so quick like how a prey with a boost of adrenaline manages to escape but you have no adrenaline within.

“Are you aware of what your issue is, y/n ?”

He’s the same as always, collected with himself, he didn’t seem to be wandering.

He knew exactly where to find you.

“You think you’re a well composed person and yet I somehow manage to break down that wall with little to no effect ?”

He barely tilts his head but there is a slight tease as his eyes ever so slightly squint.

“Im a wrong, y/n ?” There’s not a twitch that gives away amusement on his lips.

He stands and with his presence confident and it so easily standing makes you feel so small. His hands in his pockets as he leans down his mouth so close once again to your ear as he whispers. “I hope your answer doesn’t disappoint me.”

“Johan.” You don’t even know what to say as his hand now reaches out to touch your shoulder as if to finally get rid of the so called wall.

“Give in, my infidel.”

His definition of you giving in was the single glance at his soft lips. That was his confirmation, he didn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours. He had every right to.

You gasp but not in pleasure but pure shock in realisation. You’ve never been caught off guard. Not until now. It starts to make you tremble. There’s a chill that runs up your back and as his lips continue to greet yours.

His hand that once rested on your shoulder moved to your back to soothe the literal shaking that you were having but you had no sense of paying attention to that.

Instead the unfamiliar warmth pulls you in and as you kiss Johan back, it becomes more intoxicating. You’re surrendering and so you’ve been set ablaze. Particularly your lips but you’re sure that’s due to the sensation of Johan’s lips against yours.

There’s only a brief moment you pull back to look up to see what you were feeling was real. He stared down at you maybe searching for the same confirmation.

When your thoughts have now stopped from drowning you realise too that you are in fact sinning at some aspect. You are in the wrong.

You know this and when you attempt to step away, Johan makes sure that you’re certain you’ve made a mistake.

At the end of the day he is a man, a man that’s much more stronger than you. Your silly attempts at pushing him are simply dismissed.

Then his tongue is suddenly in your mouth.

It’s not overwhelming at all. You were somewhat expecting it. How wrong that was.

The most sinful part however wasn’t the realisation of what you’re doing but rather the sounds of it. The longer you both continue this never ending warmth, the more you remember where exactly you are and how loud you are compared to the emptiness around you.

It’s only when you part you feel the warmth on your cheeks and ears. The sudden unfamiliar shyness takes over when he offers a soft smile so all you can bare to do is turn to face the many alight candle. Burning so fast and quick like the beating of your heart.

You wish to be engulfed by the flames but a part of you senses that you already have.

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TAGLIST: @nimuelis @meigalahadovna @sugaredpersimmon @thesimpupthesky @sarcastic-cookie @mellechan

[wordslikesilver]

Wearepaladin ask for your Redeemer:

It’s been twenty plus years, but one of the worst foes you fought against back in the day is back, but appears to have not only survived but is trying to reform. They even show up in your temple one day, see you, but you’re not sure if you’re recognized or not. They never approach the Paladin directly, but exist in the peripheral. How, if at all, does the Paladin approach them.

@wearepaladin Tysm for this amazing prompt! I couldn't stop typing as soon as I started, this was great <3

Dame Shvana Peacepainter turned and faced the opening door of the sanctum. She'd gladly face anyone who entered their doors and greet them as warmly as she could. Being an Ifrit woman, warmth was never challenging for her. Being old admittedly made her cranky sometimes, but the gentleness her strength allowed her to approach life with still came as naturally as ever. She watched as a man in simple clothing entered the room softly, if the door hadn't creaked, she probably wouldn't have noticed, but that's why she liked to leave the door creaky.

His face was remarkably blank. Not even bored, just kind of absent of emotion. She really wasn't one to judge at this point, with everyone she'd met and made friends with in her life. The man stood and assessed the room then smoothly turned and closed the door firmly behind himself, hand flat against its surface, before turning back to the paladin who stood before him, wearing her simple prayer robes. He saw before him an older woman that appeared almost aflame from within, whose skin was as black as obsidian and hair like glowing golden ashes. He discerned quickly she was a Brightsoul. The room was filled with light, her light, radiating out from her as if she eclipsed its source from all sides.

"Are... are you..." the words were heavy in his mouth, like he wasn't very dextrous with his tongue. Yet. "Are you... The Eclipse of Sarenrae?"

"I am, weary traveller. How may I assist you today?" Shvana stood with her arms at her sides, fingers laced in front, her horns adding to the regalness she stood with so casually.

"I thought perhaps..." the man took a moment to set his jaw using his hand. "I thought perhaps I'd take you up on that offer of bread and tea, now that I'm back."

With that, his form turned fluid and the colours of his form fading into silver. He seemed like a blank slate of a humanoid. Smooth face, smooth body. He fell to a knee, his liquid form trembling under its own weight for just a moment before it held still again, stabilizing a touch more now that no disguise needed to be held. His frame was terribly, terribly thin, more wiry than a Mezlan should normally be. But that's to be expected when it takes twenty long years to pull oneself back together.

"My old friend," Shvana strode to his side with a beaming smile and knelt at his side, laying a hand on his shifting form. "I prayed I would see you again."

Healing energies flowed down her hand into his body and he gladly accepted, finding his second wind, able now to stand after taking her hand. His face was blank but she could feel his surprise underneath his flowing surface. They certainly hadn't parted as amicably as she had made it sound. Together, they slowly walked to a bench at the far end of the room and sat down gently, settling into the softness of the cushions.

"Why," was all he could ask.

"I promised, didn't I?" she said with a soft smile.

"Why promise, then."

"You seemed... like it's been a long time, I suppose," she began softly. "Since the last time that you got to break bread at a table. Share a cup of tea with someone and just, be."

She thought about the look in his eyes as she cried out to him, years ago, that his war was over, he could stop. Whatever world he was from was gone. He could find peace now, if he wanted to. She remembered him using her face and the expression that told her he couldn't. There wasn't a world he could fathom where he could stop. A remnant of a bygone era, a soldier with orders from a long dead general, a mission to kill priests and frame neighbouring countries to breed instability, all for a people who didn't exist anymore. But he was a good soldier and when he awoke centuries later, reformed after countless years from a death he'd never remember happening, he followed the last orders he'd ever received, as perfectly as he did back then.

"We give up our need for food and water, sleep too, when we decide to become... this," he replied. "Did you know that, back then?"

"Sounds miserable," she added with a soft chuckle. "My wife told me, after our first battle. She's a librarian. Most brilliant woman I've ever met. Told her what I couldn't believe I'd seen and she plopped a big heavy tome in front of me, knowing right away the book I needed. Read the bit about how you were probably a soldier. I've heard enough confessions to know at least a bit of what you were probably going through. I just couldn't stop... thinking about it. How afraid you probably were, under the surface. I couldn't help myself I guess."

He looked at her then, when she said he must've been afraid. He thought back to the woman in dark plate armour that shone like the dawn who carried a greatshield and an axe. The way she stood so valiantly between him and his quarry, stopping him so soundly from slipping by with a blade of liquid metal. He'd never met a person whose guard felt so focused and filled with purpose. He remembered feeling the softest note of admiration back then.

"So, big sap that I am, I decided I'd invite you to tea and fresh bread, if you liked. Even with the knife at my throat," she laughed, and then went very quiet. "Why let go of my hand?"

The waterfall. Caught in the rushing waters, she'd planted her shield and held his hand as they'd both fallen in at the climax of their final skirmish. Right at the edge of the falls, she held him tight and wouldn't budge, not for anything in the world. She'd finally shown him he wasn't when he thought he was anymore, that the war he was made for was over. But then, that war was his entire life. She took that from him. He'd have to learn how to live as a person again after being carved away at until he was just a weapon, one with as little feeling as necessary left to shape his humanity around. A weapon that hadn't been beat to a ploughshare when it was time to set down the swords. And now, he knew it. She couldn't live with herself if she abandoned him like that. He didn't ask for her saving. She could've slain him, for the killing crimes he'd committed. But no, she couldn't have. She's just never been the type to leave well enough alone, after all. When he let go of her hand and slipped down the falls, scattered by the onslaught of the current, her heart shattered in a way she'd never felt before.

"It was the sunset," he said after some silence. "It had been a long time since I got to see one like that. And I was tired, my lady. I was very, very tired. A part of me hoped, if I scattered far enough apart in the current, maybe this time it would... stick. Another part wondered if I'd get to taste some good food again, wherever I woke up. I watched that sun set and just. Hoped whatever came next was as pretty as that last view I got. Prayed for it, I guess. I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about a feeling like that though." Her laughter was bright and filled the room.

They chatted more as they stood and shuffled to the kitchen. She was adamant that the kitchen of the temple be well stocked and earlier that morning, she'd baked a special new kind of bread with a fruit her wife had brought for her one day. Something called a Bonono? She couldn't quite remember what it was called but it was something silly like that. The bread tasted divine, of course. The temple smelled gorgeously for the rest of the day and she'd snuck at least three pieces for herself over the course of the day. After buttering a slice for herself and her guest, she readied a hot cup of tea for the both of them. She loved the sweeter fruit teas, they'd always reminded her so warmly of her beloved. When both cups were full, she brought them to the table and set one at each place and the buttered fruit-bread on humble wood plates she'd definitely never accidentally scorched a fingerprint into once or twice over the years.

"After you, and I hope you enjoy. It's my wife's recipe, she's the real cook, I just copy whatever she shows me," said Shvana.

"Speaking of copies, may I perhaps borrow your mouth for a moment?" the blank faced silver man requested politely, then looked down in some degree of shame for a moment. "It's been a long time and... I don't remember very well what mine looked like, I think."

"I'd never refuse a friend something as sweet as that."

He paused a moment while looking at her, then shifted into a perfect copy of her, clothes and all, without the glow of her Brightsoul. Carefully, he lifted the bread and took a bite, then sipped from his tea. Setting them down, he sat in silence, chewing slowly, then swallowing as deliberately as he could. It was a pleasant sound, she had to admit. She liked seeing people be well fed. Even when they were wearing her face to do it. He paused, staring at the table, then silver fluid dripped from his chin suddenly onto the table, and quite quickly at that.

"Oh Goddess, are you well? What's happening, is this some sort of bad reaction to the bread?" Shvana began panicking slightly but he held up his hand and smiled.

"All is well, my lady. Worry not about the food, I can't taste it in the slightest and it's gone down pleasantly," he explained. "I think... I think this just might be how my body cries."

She remembered him once take on the form of a crying child, the snotty tears rolling down his cheeks looking like nothing more than just that, despite being a mere simulacrum he'd made for the sake of subterfuge. She knew back then the tears weren't real when he shifted calmly back into his regular form upon being found out. She made it clear to him in future she'd kill him on the spot if he ever tried involving children again and as far as she knew, he'd respected that threat for all it was worth.

"I'm... crying. I didn't know my body could still... why am I crying?" his bewilderment was palpable as the drops fell onto obsidian black hands and slowly absorbed back into himself.

Shvana sat beside him and let her warmth pour idly into the room as it always did, happy to observe and let him understand himself at his own pace. She was just glad she could give him company while he did so.

"If you'd like, we can continue again tomorrow while I ready a bed for you in the temple to rest in tonight," she offered gently.

"No, no I..." he trailed off a bit and stared at the tea and smiled, understanding now what simple things he could still get back, in due time. "I think I'd like to finish my tea and bread, if that's alright."

"Then that is what we shall do, my old friend," she replied and took a sip of tea that tasted as sweet as her wife.

The night was long and kind. Beautiful stars filled the sky and the reminisced about how that was how she'd shown him the truth of when he truly was. Together, the loaf of bread was finished and the tea had been delightful. There were no more tears, but she could tell he savoured every bite with reverence, grounding himself as the food entered his body. By the time they'd caught up with each other and shared their stories, dawn was softening the sky. They watched together as the sun rose on the temple and he felt a quiet ache that told him things were going to be alright, somehow. That indeed, one day he'd learn to live again as a man.

[whenlostinthedarkness]

Afterglow: Chapter 3 - Pink Light

Lead Singer!Reader x Lead Guitarist!Ellie Williams

Summary: After a night of infidelity, you have to face Ellie..except she wants nothing to do with you.

Warnings: Lots of angst, arguing, and mentions of infidelity.

WC: 3.6k

A/N: This is much later than I would've liked...sorry about that. Hope you enjoy this chapter as it dives into the complexities of things.

Series Masterlist

Shades of pink cover your eyes like a haze covers a road. The visibility in front of you is non-existent as you squint in an attempt to gain some sort of sight of what is causing this large warm hue in front of you, yet nothing comes into view.

Unexpectedly, the pink begins to change. It’s darkening right before your eyes. You can feel your heart’s beat pick up as you watch the colors drastically change without a clear cause, at least not one that you could see.

Now, the fog in front of you is a deep rouge red with highlights of black swirling around like smoke. Naturally, you feel as though something terrible is happening.

And maybe it is.

Maybe it isn’t.

That was the biggest and scariest part of it all - it was unpredictable and out of your control.

All of a sudden there’s movement that feels like an earthquake, yet you remain still. Then began the banging, ringing like cymbals clashing together directly next to your ears. You feel the need to cover them as you groan while twisting your body out of discomfort.

Then something begins to change.

Everything starts to blur together as your dream starts to be taken over by reality. You stretch out your legs as far as they can go as the disorientation begins to leave your body, yet the dark and anxious emotions still linger. 

You now become physically aware that you are waking up from a dream that is quickly fading out of your memory the more you gain consciousness. And that noise you were hearing in your dream isn’t entirely a dream after all, it’s someone banging on a door.

Quickly, you begin to realize your surroundings are one that you had briefly forgotten about, yet now are crystal clear as images of you and Ellie last night begin to flip through your brain.

The touches, the kisses, the raw intimacy - all of it.

As your eyes finally feel comfortable to fully open, you catch sight of the side table set next to your head. The dark wood contains items that aren’t yours- a watch, some rings, and a cellphone that’s lazily left uncharged, even though the cable is mere inches away from the device. 

Everything begins to come back to reality as you twist your neck to peer over your shoulder to get a view of what, or rather who, you knew would be behind you.

Ellie is peacefully sleeping on her side as the white comforter hangs around her hips, leaving her chest bare for you to take in just as you had last night. However, the realization that someone is banging on your door becomes that much more clear as you hear it for the first time since awakening from your oddly symbolic dream.

You mumble a swear word as you stand up much too fast for your body to fully process or even fathom what you are supposed to do next. 

Who is at the door? It could just be housekeeping…but why would housekeeping be pounding on your door so aggressively.

“Wake the fuck up already!” Dina says as her fist pounds on the door for the umpteenth time as she tries to wake up both of you.

The second Dina got back to the hotel last night and realized that you & Ellie were sharing a room..she was hesitant and nervous on both of your behalfs. Knocking on your door was a double win in her book - 1). She could wake you both up for the breakfast meeting that the tour manager wanted to hold with all of you, and 2). She could ensure that the both of you were..well, to be honest, she wasn’t entirely sure why she wanted to check up on both of you in the morning. Maybe it was for her own anxiety since she knew both of your past histories so well. Maybe it was to make sure that you and Ellie were indeed sharing a suite all fine and dandy as friends and band mates would.

With neither you or Ellie answering the door, Dina could feel the anxiety start to consume her thoughts, thus making her not give up on her quest to get one of you to answer the door.

“I’m not going to stop until you wake up”, Dina yelled through the door as her fist never let up on the door. 

You knew she was true to her word and wouldn’t forfeit her fight until she got her way or found someone to make her get her way. This made your feet rush along the carpet as you picked up your scattered clothes from the floor, which seemed to get Ellie’s attention as you heard the crunch of the comforter moving.

“Ellie”, you whispered as you tried your best to not let Dina know that you were awake and hiding from her while you tried to map out a plan of how to conceal last night's affairs.

“Ellie!” you half whispered, half yelled, as your hand came to slap down on Ellie’s sock clad foot that hung out of the comforter.

Ellie groaned and snuck her foot under the blanket as she returned to silence.

She always did sleep through everything, but now wasn’t the time. 

The longer Dina went on, the closer she would get to running off to Annalise to get the key & barge in on both of you. Sparing Dina the evidence from last night was the least you could do to an unsuspecting victim like her who would then have to deal with..whatever the fuck the outcome of this would be.

“Get up,” you said as your hands tore off the comforter from Ellie’s naked body, something you somehow forgot was stowed away behind a mere few inches of fabric.

“The fuck”, Ellie’s rough voice spoke as her hand reached out to grab at a blanket that was no longer there for her to wrap herself back up in.

“Dina is here.”

This seemed to break Ellie out of her sleepy state as she shot up to a sitting position. Her eyes first went to your naked body as you continued walking around and attempting to tidy up the thrown clothes, then to her own as she looked down at her vulnerable state. 

Without a word, Ellie shot up from the bed and got herself dressed in sweats & the white tank top that you’d taken off of her last night.

She tried her best to smooth down her hair and do anything to conceal what happened the night prior, except you were still naked, which would surely give a lot of things away.

Ellie nods as she mouths the word ‘Bathroom’ in hopes to get you on board with her plan. Thankfully, you were quick to catch on as you moved to enclose yourself in the bathroom and turn the shower on to use as an excuse for not answering the door.

“This is your final warning before I break down the door”, Dina lies as her final attempt before she would have to go find Annalise. Thankfully she only had to give one last knock before Ellie would open  the door.

“What the hell Ellie!”

“I should be saying the same thing to you!” Ellie grumbles as Dina walks into the suite, “What do you want?”

“Annalise wants to have a group breakfast with us so we can go over today's schedule for the album signing.” Dina says all of this as she looks around the room, examining anything that might seem odd or out of place. She is relieved to not yet see anything that would have her questioning something.

“Really? You’re knocking like that over some fucking breakfast?”

Dina rolls her eyes at her bandmate as she continues to walk until she gets to the couch-the same couch where last night's events began.

 “And I wanted to make sure you guys are okay.”

Ellie feels the nerves and the guilt and the anxiety rush over her as she tries her best to put on a facial expression that’s full of cool and calm. “Why wouldn’t we be.”

Dina chuckles as she watches Ellie lean her hip against the couch, “I mean, sharing a hotel room with your ex girlfriend seems like a good cause for concern.”

“Everythings fine,” Ellie shrugs as she folds her arms across her chest, even though everything is not fine. Everything about last night was the furthest thing from morally okay.

Dina’s hearing these words come off of Ellie’s tongue, yet the avoidance is clear in Ellie’s body language and short answers. She wants to give her friend the benefit of the doubt that she is indeed being factual; she really wants to, so she does her best to convince herself.

Meanwhile, you’re in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you gently rock yourself back and forth. 

Why did you let this happen? How could you so easily succumb to something so horrendous as having sex with someone who not only was your ex, but was also in a relationship with someone that you knew, someone you enjoyed, someone you knew was good to Ellie. Yet, you were selfish. You wanted her last night and it didn’t make it easy that she wanted you just as much and was agreeing, basically begging, for everything that happened last night to happen.

But you knew you couldn’t hide out in this bathroom for the rest of eternity, so you turned off the shower and started to put on the clothes you had quickly picked up while on your rushed cleaning spree.

As the background noise of the shower went away and turned into a hair dryer that she knew you were only using as a way to sell your story, Ellie felt herself tense up. 

This morning, neither of you could discuss or really think about what you both had done the night before…but now that things were slower, the topic was bound to come up. Unless, someone chose to ignore it.

Once you did the finishing touches on your look of the day, you let out a deep sigh as you opened the bathroom door.

It was so silent that you almost thought that Dina & Ellie had left, but then you saw the pair standing next to one another in the living room - Dina with eyes on you & Ellie with her head tilted down so she wouldn't have to look at you.

“Morning babe,” Dina nodded as she greeted you.

“Morning”, You spoke with soft words and a tentative smile.

Silence began to cover the space as you made your way around the room, attempting to collect all of your essentials for the day.

“Sooo,” Dina dragged, “I was just telling Ellie that Annalise wants all of us to have breakfast together so we can go over the schedule for today.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you tried to recall the day's agenda that was told you a couple days ago, “What’s happening today again?”

“The vinyl signing at that record store.”

You nodded as you let your eyes linger over Ellie who was still not allowing herself to look up at you. Dina could sense something was going on based on the way Ellie had taken to giving the silent treatment to everyone in the room.

“Am I missing something?”

Ellie shot her head up immediately, forcing her eyes to look into yours.

“Nothings wrong.”

Dina looked with pinched eyes between the two of you, finding amusement and suspicion in the way Ellie was quick to respond and gain the need to converse again. But she still wasn’t fully convinced.

Her eyes moved to yours as Dina silently asked you the question she had just spoken out loud - you nodded in response, yet your face said that you were anything but normal feeling, but Dina decided not to press too hard.

“Alright..shall we go then?”

You and Ellie agreed with nods as you made your way to the front door. Ellie grabbed a blue flannel shirt to jazz up her casual attire so that she was slightly more presentable to the world as she followed behind Dina.

Meanwhile, Dina tried to not let her eyes linger for too long on the bed closest to the main door of the hotel room that was left as if it hadn’t been slept in the night before. It looked so untouched that one would think it hadn’t been touched since the hotel staff prepped it yesterday.

Again, Dina told herself that it wasn’t her business. Maybe she was thinking too hard into all of this. Maybe there was a simple explanation for the untouched bed, the weird energy between you and Ellie, and the fact that she had to knock on the door for a solid 5 minutes before either one of you responded.

Maybe it was all explainable in a way that didn’t involve you and Ellie doing something that would truly fuck up both of your lives. Dina wanted to stay positive, one way of doing that was leaving well enough alone.

—-

The walk to Annalise’s suite, just down the hall, felt agonizingly slow and painful. Thankfully, Dina was acting as a physical divider between you and Ellie so neither of you had to deal with the obvious friction going on between the both of you.

“There they are!” Annalise was cheerful; too fucking cheerful for 9 in the morning. Especially when it was after a night like you had.

You put both of your hands up in a lazy, non enthusiastic jazz hands motion. “Here we are.”

Jesse was already seated at the table as he looked at Dina first, then to you, then to Ellie. 

His expression was clearly evident, which made you wonder what he & Dina had been talking about once they figured that you & Ellie were sharing a hotel room.

Naturally, you took the closest free chair you could find that was set at the large table in the communal space of the 4 star suite. Various fruits and pastries and other breakfast food and drink items lingered in the middle of the table; you opted just for a cup of coffee. 

Annalise tinged a piece of silverware against her glass of orange juice which made each of you remove your attention from eating or drinking or serving food onto your plates, and up to her.

Your tour manager went on to explain the contents of the day: getting our belongings out of the hotel once this meeting was over, heading to the regular blacked out SUV which will take us and the rest of the band to the record store where you all will spend the next 2 hours signing a signature on a record that was your prized piece of work.

Lastly, you would have to pretend like absolutely nothing was wrong for the entire day..maybe even the entirety of the week, month, and so on.

Annalise glanced at her watch once she’d gotten through the primary part of the breakfast. 

“Alright, is everyone clear on the game plan for today?”

You, Dina, & Jesse all nodded as Annalise scanned each of your reactions - her eyes paused on Ellie who was busy disassociating on an unknown object set on the table.

“Ellie?”

Her head perked up as her eyes blinked quickly. Ellie straightened her posture as she nodded at a question that she couldn’t even remember being asked, but thought it best to just nod and agree.

Annalise's eyes lingered on Ellie, then dragged along to you as she tried to read both of your expression and body languages, and any other clues into what was to blame for the obvious difference in energy between the group.

“Feel free to take your time and finish your food since the signing isn’t until this afternoon.” Annalise spoke all of this with a smile that was nervous. She watched Ellie push the food along her plate with a fork, then to you holding the branded coffee mug in your palm as you kept your eyes down - something felt really wrong.

Just as she was ready to pull either you or Ellie aside for a one on one, Annalise’s phone grabbed her attention away as she walked into another part of the suite and answered with a friendly ‘hello’.

“I’m gonna head back and pack,” Ellie said as she stood up from the table and sat her white napkin down on top of her plate of primarily uneaten food.

You cautiously turned your head to look in Ellie’s direction, but immediately it felt like a mistake as your eyes met with a burning feeling that you could almost physically feel.

Ellie quickly walked off without another word and you felt the need to chase after her.

“I'm gonna pack up too. I’ll catch you guys later, yeah?”

Both Dina & Jesse nodded as they watched you up until the moment you walked out of the door and into the hallway.

“What the fuck was that?” Jesse asked with wide eyes. Sadly, Dina couldn’t give him an answer because she herself didn’t quite know what to think of you and Ellie this morning. The only thing she did have was her suspicions that were becoming harder and harder to brush off.

—

Ellie’s hunched demeanor sulked against the red hued wallpaper, making the hallway seem like something out of a cinematographic masterpiece.

But your eyes couldn’t admire for too long because now you were both alone and, by the way Ellie was acting during the first hour of your day, you weren’t sure she would be wanting to be alone with you anytime soon.

“Ellie,” You called after her as your legs began to fast walk the distance between the both of you.

She didn’t even have to look behind her. Silently, Ellie picked up her walking pace as she ignored your voice as it yelled for her down the hallway like a tornado siren buzzing right in her ear.

“Ellie c’mon we have to talk about this!” Somehow you had caught up with her pace which allowed the tip of your fingers to make brief contact with the back of Ellie’s shoulder; it felt like a hot iron branding her skin. 

Suddenly, your front was running right into Ellie’s back as she abruptly stopped in her tracks with anger running through her.

With a red tinted face, she turned around with tensed facial features. “What do you want”

Her voice was so cold and so empty that you found it hard to find your words now. Your eyes avoided any contact with her, meanwhile she stared at you so intently that you could feel her eyes creating burning circles on your face.

Ellie was mad. So fucking mad, but she wasn’t sure with who - Herself or you?

“You want to talk, so let’s fucking talk then since this is so important to you.”

Suddenly, a nearby door opened as a stranger exited their hotel room with squinted eyes towards the both of you. Out of habitual manners, you and Ellie both moved aside from your previous stance to let the stranger walk by.

“Can we talk somewhere less public please”, you said with a voice much lower than when you were yelling for Ellie moments ago.

This made Ellie furious. You seemed so desperate to talk just a moment ago as your voice wandered through the halls, yet now you were shy? Now you wanted privacy? 

Ellie shook her head as she rolled her eyes. “Make up your mind.”

“What the fuck is your problem.”

“My problem?”, Ellie said with darkened amusement, “you want to know what my fucking problem is?” 

She repeated her words as her feet aimlessly fidgeted like a child who couldn’t stand still to save its life. Her lips were tucked in towards each other as she mumbled various noises and words under her breath that you couldn’t fully make out - what you did know was that she was angry, but now, so were you.

“Fine, let’s just never talk about it ever again then.” 

You moved around Ellie as you took the lead in continuing to walk back down the hallway.

This time it was Ellie’s turn to yell. 

“You wanna fucking talk?”

You paused, hearing her footsteps come closer and closer as tears began to teeter dangerously along the waterline of your eyes. 

Once Ellie got close enough to you, she could see the reddened cheeks and water droplets that left marks on your face. This made her pause and breathe - in..and then out, until she was composed enough to not be solely fueled by anger and frustration.

You found yourself mimicking Ellie’s chest rising and falling; you too breathed in…and then out, until the both of you were both looking straight into the others eyes.

“Then let’s talk,” Ellie spoke with a gentle tone as she fought the urge to reach out and wrap her arms around you in comfort. 

[olliaus]

There's This Girl

hey! this is a random story i just wrote, i have ideas on expanding it but this is it so far. any constructive feedback would be helpful! hope you like it!

The hurried breath, the quiet sobs, music to my ears. I am a creation of shadows and fear, and my god does this human have a lot of it. It’s beautiful. Her being will be a part of the shadows soon enough.

I’ve backed her into a corner now, she stands on shaky legs, cowering, delicious. I await her final plea, as all are different and some are even funny.

“Please,” as expected, “please, help me.”

…not as expected. What?

“If you can understand me…please, help me.”

She’s still quietly sobbing, still shaking, yet she’s asking for help. From me. A creature which she should be petrified from. It makes me pause, unwillingly, and she seems to take it as a sign to keep talking.

“You can kill me,” She says hurriedly, as if that wasn’t already going to happen. It’s nice to have permission, I suppose. “But please help me get out of this house. That man is not my dad, I don’t know how much longer I have here but I’m not dying by his hands or in his house. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

That…is a strong confession.

I shrink my size down to what humans would consider normal before addressing the one before me. Her eyes followed my movement, tracking every small detail and shift of my form, still assessing my threat level. 

She’s smart, I have to give her that. Or just monumentally stupid. But this is interesting.

“You ask a being you couldn’t previously fathom into existence a moment ago, for help.” My voice sounds static, and the girl flinches, obviously hearing but now the fun part, does she understand? Cause if she doesn’t, well, what am I waiting around for?

She looks at me again with a look of concentration, before quietly responding, “Yes.”

She is stupid then.

I can’t help but laugh and the human flinches again, static probably filling her head. Oh well. She can understand me!

This is interesting. Fascinating, if you will. Though, now I have to wonder, how dire is this girl's situation that she’s asking me for help? Am I the only– I’m not even a living thing. Am I the first anything with a conscience this girl has seen in… well, what knows how long. Above, that’s… smart on this supposed ‘dad's’ side. Though, not so great for the girl. I could team up with the dad– no, that wouldn’t work, the girl’s clearly not that afraid of me anymore. Not that she couldn’t be again, but it just doesn’t feel natural.

I look at her again and really look, this time. She’s moved from standing to sitting with her back against the wall, knees drawn up in futile protection. She has her arms crossed in front of her, hunched shoulders, trying to make herself smaller. She has sleep shorts and a tank top on, short curly hair in a bob with bangs, tattoos decorate her arms in swirling patterns and eyes and symbols that I don’t feel like deciphering right now. The tattoos are cool though. Now I’m looking more closely, there are also bruises that line her wrists and arms, and a quick look at her legs shows the same thing. 

Oh. 

Uhhh. I am way out of my element here. 

“Listen kid,” another flinch, but she recovers fairly quickly this time, “I kinda just kill people, not get into their personal business.”

She huffs out a breath, which, wow, ok. Someone’s feeling brave. “God fucking dammit, fine whatever, then go kill him and let me kill myself in peace.”

She then starts to get up from the wall before I stop her, “Woah, wait, what? Ok,” But she’s already moving around me to apparently do whatever it was she was doing before I showed up and tried to kill her. 

I turn around to follow her but she’s already talking again, “I mean,” she scoffs, “I have spent so long playing my cards right, getting him to trust me enough to not have to sleep with a chain on. I have been playing his game just how he wants me to and now when I finally have a plan to escape everything, you come along and mess everything up!” She’s over to the storage shelves now, working herself up while still being quiet. A survival strategy, I realise.

“I mean, it was perfect! All I had to do was wait for a while without the chain so he could see I wouldn’t do anything, I had to fucking starve myself so I wouldn’t be weakened by whatever drugs he was putting in my food. I have to come down here, find out whatever medicines he’s giving me, go outside and overdose on the strongest one.” She pauses and takes a breath before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a set of keys, “I even got the fucking keys to all the deadbolts on the door,” her voice cracks as she starts to silently sob.

I stay quiet. What are you supposed to say to that? Here I was, just hoping to get a little treat on my way home and now there's this girl who would rather die on her own terms instead of being killed by something else. 

Which, love the will, but really. Now I feel like I have to be the one to get her. I mean, I’ve listened to her sob story, and it’s pretty good, plus! She even gave me a deal and who could possibly say no to a deal like that?

“I accept your deal.”

She starts, like she had forgotten I was there, which doesn’t usually happen, “What?”

“I accept your deal. To help you escape, then to kill you.”

She smiles at me, “Really?”

It’s said with so much hope, that I feel something inside of me that I don’t recognize and quickly shove to the side.

“I have nothing better to do.” Sadly, the truth. 

The relief on her face makes me feel awkward, how desperate is this girl to be grateful for me?

Before she can say anything else, the door to the basement slams open and with the light it provides I can see the girl’s face clearer. She has tan skin and freckles that line her cheeks and nose, she has green eyes, brown hair and circle glasses. Not the worse human I’ve ever seen.

The light also means that I can see all the color leave from the girl’s face as terror takes over.

“Pixie.”

…

Why is there more fear on her face right now, then when she first saw me?

[ravencollege]

It felt sweet. The way someone’s name can feel on your tongue. Like honey and figs. Even if it’s bittersweet it’s still inviting. Sonically pleasing, warming the body, gentle on the soul. Melancholic. There are names you may not say aloud for a long time so the feeling of saying it doesn’t seem immediately apparent. Thinking it isn’t the same as hearing yourself say it. Forming the syllables with your lips and making it real. It’s different. You don’t realize the weight of a name until it’s spoken into existence. That’s how he felt in that moment, saying a name so fond in his memory but unsaid in recent years.

“Jamil?”

It was wishful thinking maybe. Davaa thought he’d meet Jamil one day, someday, but it wasn’t something he was actively searching for. Be it his own stops and starts, desire or fears, he kept the sentiment to the side, right in his periphery but never in front of him. It wasn’t so much avoidance as it was having other things to worry about. Both their lives seemed to be going perfectly sound (as far as Davaa knew on Jamil’s part, he would only ever see updates through magicam or what have you) but it was enough to satiate whatever anxieties he has for the former classmate’s well being as well as giving him an excuse to put it off. It’s not avoidance per se, he doesn’t want to fall back into that pattern, but butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Fluttering worries that are more stereotypically crush-shaped that makes him even more embarrassed. If he said ‘I miss you’ that would be painful. Painful in the cringe way right? Silly, ridiculous, delusional. Right? But he did. He does. And he wants to see this guy again even apart from past feelings because they were friends, even if neither of them admitted it outright back then. Stubborn teenage pride, the hubris of them both, is what was cringe. 

Things are different now. Years have passed. He’s standing in a gallery of his own blood, sweat and tears and some rich admirers are going to buy them for money he couldn’t exactly fathom. He was standing there only half paying attention to what his patrons were saying but he at least had his curator with him who was doing most of the heavy lifting on the negotiations, financial and logistics. There was a smudge on his glasses. He didn’t particularly like wearing them but he needed them to read now or for anything that requires finer detail work. It also totally makes him look smarter than he is, more refined or whatever. Along with slim-fit black slacks and dress shoes and black dress shirt practically half unbuttoned but tucked in because getting him into anything aside from joggers is a negotiation in itself. ‘You have to look presentable’ and all that. Even if anyone was allowed to wander in for the viewing, he still had to seem at least semi-serious as an artist. Although Davaa would argue having an eccentric gimmick would garner more attention, so he should have worn something totally obscene instead. Davaa is currently glad his manager had shot down that idea. 

His line of sight wanders to the smudge on the class directly in front of them, moving to remove them but hesitates when a distraction behind the buyer's head. It’s been awhile. Not too long, it could have been longer, but maybe just long enough. The man’s shoulders tense, his posture straightening and adding a good few inches back to his height from slouching. For how alert he seems now it’s possible his eyes even dilated after spotting them from across the room. But he’s still embroiled in this conversation. Brown eyes flicker from person to person, thinking frantically about what he should do right now at this very moment. Mouth gapes a little, preparing to excuse himself somehow but nothing came. He awkwardly shifts, shuffling away from the other three mumbling something something toilet something something emergency something you can have it for free hold on- and making a goofy little b-line to the familiar face.

@auratvm 💛

[doiecstasy]

She’s Confident

She’s Confident (Diluc x Reader)

Summary: Being an Imunlaukr, you were destined to travel and discover many things all around Teyvat. Even if being the lover of the uncrowned king of Mondstadt, who owns the famous winery and tavern inside the nation of freedom, you didn't stop traveling. Now that you're back from your recent travel, you wanted to taunt your boyfriend and probably show him your hidden bold attitude that is only for him to see. 

Warnings: Oral, Teasing, Smut, Breeding, Impreg

Note/s: Minors DNI. I cross-posted this fic on Ao3 so if you also found it in there, don't worry. I need more Diluc fics so I wrote one and decided to share it with y'all Diluc simps. Enjoy! 

Artwork: eriimyon in Twitter

The tension between the new honorary knight and the former cavalry captain in a room full of the Knights of Favonius is palpable. Very. Noticeable. 

Perhaps they all know the history between the two hence no one ever dares speak up. An Imunlaukr from the clan of the grandmaster Varka and the son of Master Crepus Ragnvindr. Who would dare speak in front of them?

Except, of course, the cunning cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonius. Kaeya.

"I think it is better to sit shoulder-to-shoulder rather than facing each other. Isn't it Diluc?"

The redhead hissed, straightened up on his seat, and crossed his arms on his chest, enunciating through his actions that he is not interested in what his brother has said just a moment ago. He simply did not care and continued to stare into your azure orbs. Those blue-like ocean eyes that successfully captured his flaming ones.

Sensing how the other knights exchanged looks as if being able to communicate with just their eyes, you stood up and walked around the room to sit beside the uncrowned king of Mondstadt. 

You looked over your shoulder and saw a surprised-looking knight. He seems new and shy. You could quite see that he was amazed. Mesmerized, even. A beauty like you, coming from the Imunlaukr clan with impressive combat skills and was gifted with a cryo vision matching perfectly to your blue eyes, who would not be captivated by your existence? 

Glancing to your right, you saw how Diluc stilled and stared blankly in front of him, where you once seated. You smirked and looked at Kaeya, urging him to start the meeting he so-called important to the point where it needs the help of the two respected nobles of Mondstadt.

Kaeya didn't hide his smirk as he started briefing all of the people inside the room about the sightings of suspicious members of the Fatui outside the borders of Mondstadt and how the Liyue Qixing also wants to cooperate with this mission since there are also sights near Stone Gate, Liyue. 

You understood how this is an important matter, for the safety of the citizens of Mondstadt is on the line. However, the man beside you once again hissed. 

"Knights of Favonius, always so inefficient. Couldn't even handle matters like this alone." He said while staring directly at the cavalry captain in the center of the room. 

The other knights averted their eyes on Diluc and looked down on their laps, feeling ashamed and guilty, partly because it is quite true. Something inside you was triggered and you directed your look to the redhead which caused him to look back into you. 

"You can always back down, Diluc. You are not in debt to always cooperate in situations like this. After all, you are not part of the Knights of Favonius, aren't you?"

The room was quiet and an amused man was smiling boldly in the center of the room, enjoying the little show in front of him. But before everything reach its climax you stood up and excused yourself for you already know the details of the meeting.

"I'll be off now. If anyone needs something from me, I am just sheathing my claymore" you looked discreetly at Diluc, "at the practice grounds." You turned the knob and left the room with Diluc slightly shaking his head and Kaeya who is ready to irritate his brother more.

---

You saw Diluc leaving the headquarters and surmised that he is heading to Angel's Shares. You shook your head as you still couldn't fathom why the man owns a winery and tends the bar full of booze when he despises alcohol and is deeply in love with grape juice. 

Picking up your claymore, you placed it back on the armory together with the other weapons exclusively for nobles like you and made your way to the tavern. 

Why?

"Because I want to." You answered yourself while painting a smirk on your face. 

While on your way, a hand was placed around your waist making you gasp and hold your tracks in front of little Flora's flower shop. Good thing it was almost dawn and the child is surprisingly not tending her shop at the moment. 

"An Imunlaukr following a Ragnvindr, hm?" He tightens his hold on your waist, your chests now inch apart from each other. "Perhaps you need something from an ex-Knights of Favonius captain, honorary knight." He said staring directly into your orbs. 

If it wasn't for the fact that you were both out in the open, you would gladly melt under his crimson eyes. But you were completely aware of your surroundings. You could feel the stares of a woman just above flora's shop. Quickly glancing in her direction, you saw the horror in her eyes and the way her hands slowly creep on her mouth as if suppressing silent sobs. 

This is interesting.

Being aware that the woman's eyes are still locked in your position, you placed both of your arms around Diluc's neck and gently pulled him down to your height, making him bend slightly. 

"Why don't we continue this inside your tavern, Diluc. I hate having an audience for private matters like this." You saw flames in his eyes like you've ignited something inside him. Moreover, you saw how the woman averted her gaze into you. She heard it. Definitely. 

Diluc removed his arm on your waist and made his way back to his tavern. You hissed. This man never changes. But you followed him nonetheless. 

When you entered the tavern you were surprised that it is empty. Considering the time, it's the hour that the tavern is supposedly packed with customers and bards. As if he has read your thoughts, Diluc answered. "The tavern is closed for today if that's what you're wondering. But I know that you heard it somewhere and to someone that we're closed for today, yet you still made your way here. So I supposed you're not here for the wine." He said while wiping mugs behind the bar.

Walking over to him, you settled on one of the seats in front of him and placed both of your elbows on the bar, plastering a smile on your face.

"I'm here for my welcome back greetings." You said while watching him. "And probably for some, 'I missed you', words as well." You still watched him and saw that he is not bothered by your words, he just continued wiping noticeably clean beer mugs. Placing your hands under your chin to support your face, you said,

"Or a kiss from you, perhaps?"

Sounds of clanking of mugs that fell on the floor were heard inside the tavern and a pair of crimson eyes were darted into your azure ones. He stopped wiping mugs and placed his hands on the edge of the bar to support himself, completely disregarding the scattered mugs on the floor. 

His stares are of those like predators' look on their prey. You're sensing he got something up on his sleeves and you're not someone who backs out easily. Breaking the game of staring, you inched a little closer to him, being careful not to fall on your chair. But you saw him leave his position and slowly made his way around the bar. You followed his movements and your back is now facing his previous spot. 

Diluc is now in front of you, caging you between the bar and his arms. His face is dangerously close to yours. The edge of the bar is digging behind your back, but you did not care and focused on the piece of art standing in front of you. 

"Look who needs something from me, former cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonius. You said it yourself, hm?" He said and you felt shivers run down your spine. 

You smirked. 

"I didn't know that you hold grudges for small things like that, Diluc. I am surprised." You snickered. "After being with you for all these years, it just so happens that I only knew this trait of yours." You placed a hand on his chest.

"Is it because of how I travel? Maybe I'm traveling too much to the point of almost ignoring you." 

You saw the protruding veins in his jaw. He is provoked. You internally praised yourself for making him like this. 

He removed his hand on the edge of the bar and placed it on your waist while his other hand supports his body against yours. You felt him grip your side a little too tight. Maybe you're doing this a little too much for him. But you didn't care. You also like him this way.

"You changed your hair color." He said while burning his gaze into yours. "Why?"

Your previous hair color was dark brown. Your recent travel required you to change it so you colored it to ash gray. It still made you beautiful. More mesmerizing.

"Do you not like it? I could change it back for you." You said while slowly rubbing your hand on his chest.

He looked at your hand for a second and came back into your eyes. "I love it." 

"Now, pick among the three." He said while smirking.

You were confused and he saw it too. "A welcome greeting, an I missed you, or..." He leaned in at your ear, 

"a hot kiss from me."

He backed away from your ear and faced you once again, waiting for your answer. His eyes burning with what you could see and very well know.

Lust.

You didn't break the stare as you said your answer. "The latter."

Diluc leaned in and caught your bottom lip between his. Slightly sucking it before giving you a sloppy yet hot kiss. His hand slipped under your tight shirt, gripping and massaging your waist slightly. Your hands are now around his neck as he ravished your lips. He bit your lip and you moaned as his tongue met yours. "I fucking missed you." He said between your kisses. 

The sound of wet kisses and muffled moans filled the whole tavern. You already started thinking that he did close the tavern on purpose for your arrival, but you were averted from your thoughts as he pressed his bulging erection on your thighs. You giggled between your kisses and one of your hands slowly made its way to cup his erection. 

"Ah, baby," Diluc moaned parting from your lips as you slowly rub his member. Feeling how it begs to be free from his restricting pants. He finds it so hot seeing you rub your hand on his filthy cock. Slipping your hand inside his pants, you grabbed his member and slowly releasing it free from its cage. You felt proud of yourself seeing how you made Diluc all worked up.

You left your seat and situated yourself kneeling in front of his mad erection. All for you. 

You pumped it several times before slowly and teasingly licking his tip already filled with pre-cum. "Ah. Baby, stop teasing." He said while running his hand on your hair. 

You grabbed his balls as you took his cock in your mouth. Taking him and moaning while his cock slides in and out of your mouth. You pumped the remaining parts of his shaft that didn't fit in your mouth and you could sense that he is close to coming. Diluc was panting as you continuously blow him off, guiding your head with his hand. You intentionally ground your teeth on his cock and you felt him squirmed from pleasure. 

"If you keep on doing that I might come right now, baby." He pleads. You continued sucking his cock like a popsicle until he finally came and filled your mouth. "I'm hard again just by seeing you swallow my semen, baby." 

You moaned. "Then I might just suck you off again, hm." You said palming his still erect cock.

Diluc pulled you from the floor and positioned you on top of the bar. Parting your legs and settling his body between your thighs. He slowly palmed your clothed clit. "You're wet down here, hm." 

He stripped you from your bottom garments and only left bare only for him to see and... taste.

Your head fell back and moans left your mouth as he eats you out like a predator. He licks, kisses, and tongue-fucks your pussy. After ravishing your mound with his mouth, Diluc inserted a finger in your opening and slowly pumps it in your hole while he's busy playing with your clit.

"Ah, Diluc... Add another in there, baby. Please." You grabbed his red hair tightly as he added another finger and this time it wasn't slow.

You heard him grunt and it vibrated to your pussy making you moan louder. His other hand snaked around your back to push your hips even more on his face.

"I fucking missed the taste of this pussy too." He said while adding another finger and continue eating your clit. You were shaking from too much pleasure but you didn't mind.

When his fingers found your g-spot, you couldn't hold it in any longer and came right in front of his face.

A moan escaped your mouth as he licked you off clean. You didn't have time to calm down as he grabbed your waist and carried you to one of the tables inside the tavern.

"I can't wait to fuck you, baby. I need you right now." He said while laying down on the hard surface. You didn't mind the discomfort as long as you're with him.

Diluc pumped his cock slowly as he watches you being impatient and desperately wants to be filled.

"Diluc stop teasing me and put it in me already." You said while massaging your breasts. He caught you off-guard when he suddenly slid it in you. Hard.

He pounded you like he never saw you for a year. When in reality, it was only for 2 weeks. Loud moans escaped from your mouth as he continuously hit your spot.

Diluc hoisted your legs up on his shoulders and fucks you deeper. A growl escaping his mouth. "Fuck, you're so tight and hot, baby. Fucking you still feels like the first time. Ah."

He leaned in and gave you sloppy kisses as he fucks the life out of you. "Want me to breed you, baby?" He said between thrusts and kisses. "Make you a Ragnvindr and mark you so no one could have you except me, hm?"

You couldn't form words from the pleasure he's giving you. You could tell that the table you're lying on will be destroyed moments from now. The idea of bearing a child of Diluc in you made you feel so hot and even more turned on.

You ground on him in sync with his thrusts. "Ah, Diluc. Yes!"

You were almost there but he slides out of you and picked you up from the table. You almost snapped from the lack of his cock in your mound, but when he placed you in front of the wall, hoisted your leg on his arm then quickly penetrated your pussy from behind, another set of loud moans escaped your mouth.

He moaned as he felt your hole clenching his cock between his heavy thrusts. Every time he thrusts it out, your pussy pulls it back in.

His other hand crept under you and rubs your clit fast, overstimulating you. "Come for me, baby. Let me fill you with my semen. I'll fucking put a baby in you."

"Ah, yes! Give it to me, baby." You said as you felt your release coming the same time he came inside you. A grunt left Diluc's mouth as his semen floods into you.

He stilled and moaned as you slowly pumped his cock back in your pussy, helping him cream your mound. "Don't want your release to come to waste." You giggled.

Diluc didn't let go of you as he very well knows you'd fall if he does. He situated you in one of the seats that have a cushion so that you'll be more comfortable after an intense fucking inside his tavern.

He grabbed tissues behind the bar and went directly to your position and slowly cleaned off the excess cum on your thighs. He helped you put back your clothes on and did the same to himself.

After a few moments, he just stared at you like you're the only woman in Teyvat. His woman.

"So, how did the ex-Knights of Favonius satisfy the honorary knight, hm?" He asked, crossing his arms on his firm chest.

You looked up to him and a smirk formed on your lips.

"Well, he did great. Very. Great. Perhaps, the other way to get railed like this again is by officially joining the Knights of Favonius." You said with a smirk on your face.

Diluc raised an eyebrow. "I hate the Knights."

You grabbed his arms and made him wrap them around your waist. You carefully stood up from your seat as your mound is still sore and you put a chaste kiss on his lips.

"But I like it when you're mad at me." You placed another kiss on his lips. "You wanna know why, hm?"

Diluc kissed you back as an answer. His tongue seeking entrance in your mouth.

"Because you fuck me harder when you're mad." You said between his kisses.

He guided your hand on his pants and a gasp left your mouth in his kisses when you felt him hard again. He parted his lips from you and whispered in your ears.

"I can't hate you, love. But I can make you suffer in bed later."

You're anticipating that 'later' in bed at home.

End.

[chemicalpink]

Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really,  who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

[1kook]

commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.  WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

Doyeon says you have fat fingers, and Jungkook takes great offense at that. “Who cares about the size— __ has pretty hands, idiot,” he mutters, and almost wants to feel bad about being so childish in the middle of this jewelry store. But Kim Doyeon is a pest— a fly who just won’t stop buzzing by his ear with each ring they look at, and she has the audacity to look disgusted with him now. Jungkook very much regrets inviting her along. She exudes very similar energy to the popular girls he used to go to high school, the ones that would only talk to him because he was friends with Namjoon and wanted Jungkook to help them into his pants. Lo and behold, Kim Doyeon is very acquainted with whatever’s inside Namjoon’s pants. She hits the mark perfectly. 

“Oh, definitely get her a rock. Like, one of those obnoxiously bing and shiny rings, maybe?” And she never stops talking. 

Jungkook hasn’t had to spend this much time with her in months, the last time being Namjoon’s birthday when you had tasked the two of them to go pick up the cake together. Not only was Doyeon adamant on passenger-seat driving — “Turn here,” she says a moment too late, “no wait, here — but she had been an absolute heathen outside in the bakery parking lot. 

(“Okay, now take a picture of me by this wall,” she says, artfully holding up the box of cake in two hands, dark hair flipped over her shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell her that there is no significant difference between this brick wall and the brick wall they just took a picture by two minutes before.)

Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. It would be him and Namjoon, and maybe Namjoon’s blunt roommate Jimin if he was feeling down for it, but that was pretty much it. Even Taehyung, a very close and dearly cherished friend, had not made the cut. He was too lazy, didn’t offer much concrete advice other than the occasional, “that one looks cool” comment. 

The great thing about Namjoon is that he’s highly educated on just about every aspect of life; he knows the best hairstylists — “You can always ask Hobi,” Namjoon offers, “he’s married.” — and the best lawyers — “Oh, and Yoongi can help with your prenup.” — for no reason other than the fact he is Namjoon. 

The bad thing about Namjoon is that he’s dead set on including Doyeon. “Doyeon is ___’s best friend,” he says calmly one night after dinner. You’re at your friend’s house this weekend, something about a midnight revenge plot against a shitty ex-boyfriend. He isn’t too clear on the details. “You have to let her in on it.” It’s been decades since Jungkook last stomped his foot in annoyance, but the urge wells up strongly in him now. 

Jimin is on the couch. “Oooh, you don’t like her?” he asks, flipping his platinum hair away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t answer, only because it would be rude to confirm it in front of Namjoon. Jimin presses on. “Is she, like, an evil best friend?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says at the same time Namjoon says, “no.” Jimin’s got this highly intrigued smirk on his face, and Jungkook hates how similar it is to your own mischievous grins. He’s glad you haven’t met Jimin, mostly because he knows you have your mean moments and meeting Park Jimin would only exacerbate them. Namjoon frowns anyway. 

Jimin says, “oh, you guys should duel. Like, whoever knows __ the best gets to keep her.” 

Namjoon jumps to stop that thought. “No— they’re not gonna duel, Jimin. ___ isn’t an object to win,” he scolds, and Jungkook nods along agreeingly, pretends he hadn’t seriously considered Jimin’s idea for a solid ten seconds. 

Long story short, Doyeon has tagged along to this jeweler and the past two jewelers to make sure Jungkook doesn’t give you “an ugly ring,” as she claims. 

“Wait, what if you get her this one,” she says, on the other side of the store. Jungkook sighs, but hurries over anyway. Hey, he’s here to see some rings, okay? 

Doyeon is looking at the most ugly ring Jungkook has ever seen, a mix of a braid and a snake, that is just too… not you. “This is hideous,” he says, disregarding all and any notions of being polite because at this point, she had to be pulling his leg. “___ would hate this.” 

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “Oh, ‘cause you know ___ sooo well, don’t you?” she snarks. 

Jungkook levels her with a glare. “I do, actually,” he says, “that’s literally what made me want to marry her.” And because Kim Doyeon sparks a very immature flame within him, he feels the need to add, “I probably know ___ better than you,” to top it off. 

Doyeon scoffs. “No, you don’t— you will never know her like I do, you overgrown fungus,” she spits. “Me and ___ have exceeded any level of trust you could ever hope to have, a friendship forged on the grounds of love and equal values. A nerd like you can’t even begin to fathom the absolutely crazy shit we’ve shared with each other.” 

If he was eight years younger, Jungkook is certain he would have gone home and cried. Mid-twenties Jungkook, on the other hand, has had one too many rodeos with mean girls — he’s dating a retired high school cheerleader, for goodness sake, an apex predator if he’s ever seen one — and will not stand for it. Besides, Jungkook has received your blessing to check Doyeon into place if ever she crosses the line. 

(“Sometimes you just gotta knock her down, maybe call her a dumbass if necessary,” you had said one night after Doyeon had unceremoniously barged into your apartment to monopolize your evening plans with Jungkook. Now it’s nearing midnight and as much as Jungkook wants to spend time with you, he’s deathly tired. “Just tell her off.” 

Jungkook frowns, snuggles closer until he’s so tightly pressed against your body that he can’t tell whose heartbeat is whose. He likes it like that.

There’s just something about your annoying best friend that activates this feeling in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, Jungkook imagines it is similar to that of having a bratty little sister. But Doyeon as his sister? He rolls his eyes so far back he swears he sees his own brain. 

It’s childish and petty and unlike Jungkook — or at least, unlike the Jungkook he knows you think he is. Which is flattering, to be thought of so highly, but sometimes Jungkook wonders where on earth you got that idea from. Because whenever he’s around you, Jungkook becomes increasingly immature, grows so greedy and needy, desperate for anything you have to give him. 

And because he’s so immature, he settles on tattling to you instead, “she called me a sweaty meat bag,” to which you snort in amusement.) 

For now, he calls on the spirit of the most mature person he knows (Namjoon). Jungkook takes one last look at his millionth silver band of the day before turning to address the Wicked Witch of the West. “I might not know ___ like you do, but that’s fine,” he says calmly. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together anyway.” 

In front of him, Doyeon’s eye twitches and Jungkook senses he has won. For now. See, the thing is, Jungkook knows that using Namjoon-level logic against her is foolproof. For one, Namjoon’s logic is always solid. But also, as much as Jungkook despises Kim Doyeon with nearly every fiber in his being… ultimately, they share a common interest: cherishing you. 

Had it not been for your existence in their lives, Jungkook doubts he would have ever spent his Saturday morning at a jeweler with the likes of Kim Doyeon, especially not after she had spent ten minutes in the Starbucks drive-thru ordering the most bizarrely complicated drink. But deep in his heart Jungkook knows that she loves you, though not as much as him, and he respects the fact she is willing to accompany him in the name of buying you a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a friendship solidarity he admires, and for that he stomps down his childish pride to answer in a way that would impress, well, you. 

(Even when you’re not here, Jungkook always wants to impress you.)

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “I should’ve never taken ___ to that party.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

[kpop---scenarios]

Torn Apart (2 Final)

Pairing: Surprise! x Reader

Warning: Smut, Sadness, Angst Maybe? Mean People

Word Count: 5.4k

It had been weeks. 

Weeks of sobbing into your pillow, weeks of feeling like things were going to get better, until you found the most insignificant thing that belonged to Chanyeol and you broke down all over again. You missed him. You missed his touch, his warmth, his smile, the way he made you laugh when you were sad. You missed it all. You were broken, and it was all Chanyeol's fault. 

Until you scrolled through Instagram, and saw pictures of him with Maya, that bitch. You had never hated anyone in your life until you had met her. You couldn't even begin to fathom what even slightly redeeming qualities Chanyeol saw in her, but apparently there was something to that wench.

You were curled on your couch in the fetal position as you cried at the ending of Strong Girl Bong Soon. You wished you had a love like that. The way An Minhyuk loved Bong Soon was the relationship you wanted, the one you would strive for. He loved her so much and you just wanted to be loved by someone like that. 

You groan loudly as your doorbell rings, and then whoever pounds on your door. You didn't want visitors, you didn't care who it was, you wanted to hermit. 

"What?" You yelled from the other side of the door. 

"Y/N, let me in." You hear from the other side. You recognized the voice immediately. 

"Baekhyun, I look like a troll. Kindly leave." You sigh. 

"Y/N, if your trolly ass doesn't let me in, I will break down your door." He threatens, which makes you laugh for the first time in days. You both knew he would never be able to do that, and he would likely end up hurting himself. 

"Baek, you would break your leg." You say, pulling the door open. On the other side was a sympathetic Baekhyun, who had tissues, ice cream, chocolate and a bag full of movies. You smile at his kindness. "You know I have Netflix right?" 

"Shut the fuck up and move, this shit is cold." He barks, moving past you and into your kitchen. "Look, I have all the necessities. We will get you through this. Because I for one, cannot stand the sight of Mayeol and I want to gouge my eyes out, and I need someone to do it with." 

"I don't understand how that has anything to do with me." You say, grabbing two spoons.

"Sehun is gone, he's so in love with those two, hes bordering being a psychopath, Jongdae and his wife are just tolerating, Suho, Kai and Kyungsoo are avoiding them like the plague and Minseok and Lay have been MIA, so you're my last hope, Y/N." 

"I really don't want to talk about him, Baek." You admit, the hole in your heart somehow feels larger than before. 

"That's fine, I'll stop, let's start a movie." He suggests, grabbing a random one out of his bag. 

And for the next few hours, that's all you guys did. You watched movies, making comments, laughing and you genuinely had a good time with him. It had been so long since you actually felt happy and you were grateful to Baekhyun for bringing at least a little joy back into your life. 

Until he left, and you were alone again. All the feelings came rushing back, except they hurt a little less this time. You didn't miss him quite as much. 

** 

The next day, at the same time, your doorbell rang again. You open the door, your eyes puffy and bloodshot and you see Baekhyun standing there again, a new flavor of ice cream in hand, a new kind of chocolate, and a new bag of movies. This time he said nothing to you, instead pushed his way past you and through the door, setting everything down on your living room table as he popped in the movie. You smiled to yourself before turning around to join him, it felt nice to be cared about, and the fact that he was going out of his way to do this for you, and make you feel better. You truly appreciated Baekhyun. 

As he sat there and watched the movie, you watched him. The way his eyes lit up at a part of the movie he enjoyed, the face he made when he took a bite of his ice cream, the wrinkle he had in his nose when there was a cheesy scene. You never truly noticed how handsome Baekhyun was until now. His distinct jawline, his large hands, his toned body, you briefly.. very briefly began to wonder how large his..

"No Y/N, no. Do not go there with your existing bestfriend." 

You quickly shake off the thought, moving your eyes to the TV screen, trying to focus. 

"How are you feeling today?" Baekhyun asks, sliding his phone back into his pants pocket. 

"A bit better, I guess." You answer. Before Baekhyun could say anything there was another knock at the door. "That's good." He smiles, standing up. "There are some people who wanna see you." He says, opening the door. 

Minseok, Suho and Kyungsoo file through the door, looking at you with pity as they all sit, surrounding you.  

"Hiiiii." Suho pouts, protruding his bottom lip. "How are we feeling today?" 

"Um, hi." You laugh. "I'm fine." 

"Oh good, so we can go." Kyungsoo pipes up, standing up and walking towards the door. 

"Sit." Minseok sighs, pointing back at the seat. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, shuffling back to his spot and flopping down. 

"She's fine, Chanyeol is fine, so why are we here? Everyone is fine." He groans. 

"Have you seen him? Is he fine?" You hesitantly ask. You weren't even sure if you wanted to know. 

"Oh he's more than fine." Kyungsoo groans. "He and Maya are all over each other all the time. It's honestly nauseating. Like I want to be able to eat my sandwich without hearing your girlfriend moan when you kiss her." He gags. 

You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head, tears welling in your eyes. These were most definitely details you did not need to hear about your ex and the girl he cheated on you with. All the men whip their heads to look at you, who now had your head hanging low as your shoulders shaked. They all look back at Kyungsoo, with only one speaking up.  

"That's it." Baekhyun growls. "Kyungsoo, get out." He spits, pointing to the door. 

"What did I do?" Kyungsoo asks, innocently. Baekhyun rolls his eyes, looking at you, softly whimpering into the sleeves of your sweater. 

"Out. Now." Baekhyun says, giving him the middle finger before flinching as Kyungsoo stands up, whispering "Don't hurt me."

"Don't listen to him." Minseok sighs. "Kyungsoo has zero social cues, he also could not read a room if his life depended on it." 

As Kyungsoo opened the door to leave, in rushed Lay, who looked at the man leaving and just nodded his head, realizing he had probably said something rude and was asked to leave. It wasn't the first time and would not be the last either. 

"Y/N." Lay breathes. "How do you feel about tall, muscular men who sing?" He asks. 

"I do enjoy them. Why?" You ask. 

"I have a friend from the hospital.. I think you two would get along really well. He's in his third year of surgery residency and is looking to date. I may have shown him your picture and he instantly said yes." He tells you. 

You look around the room, Suho and Minseok are nodding enthusiastically, while Baekhyun sits with his arms crossed against his chest, and a pouty look on his face. 

"What do you think?" You ask Baekhyun. He looks up at you, his face softening immediately. 

"I uhh, it's up to you. Yanno, if you're into muscular, tall men.." he mumbles.

"You know what? Sure, yes, I will. Chanyeol and Maya are out there living their best lives while I'm sitting here sulking, mourning a love that clearly didn't mean as much to him. So yes I will go out with him." You announce, perking up already. "When?" 

"Tonight." Lay says. "More specifically, an hour." 

"I need to get ready." You smile, jumping from your seat to rush to your room. You slowly peak your head around the corner, softly smiling at your friends. "Thank you, you guys. You've all really helped me these last weeks. I greatly appreciate you all." You finish, heading back into your room to quickly throw yourself together. 

By the time you were done, you had 15 minutes to spare, and you were damn proud of what you accomplished in the last 45 minutes. You showered and shaved to become a hairless human from the eyelashes down, you managed to get the knots out of your hair and it looked in decent shape, as well as hide the semi-permanent redness of your eyes with a lot of makeup. You almost didn't recognize yourself in the mirror when you looked. You didn't see the heartbroken girl anymore, you saw someone confident, hot and worthy of a great love. 

Stepping out into the living room you blush at all the 'oohs and ahhs' from your friends. 

Except for Baekhyun. 

When you looked at him, his eyes shined and for some reason it made your heartbeat a little faster. You watched his eyes trail up and down your body, seemingly taking in every curve, every inch of you. When he notices you staring, he clears his throat and looks away. "You look prettyish." He mumbles as he walks away, there's a knock at the door. Baekhyun is the one to answer and looks up at the tall man. 

"You must be.." he begins, moving out of the way, letting the man walk in. 

"Hi." He smiles at you. "I'm Matthew." He says, holding out his hand. 

"Hi Matthew." You grin. "Y/N." You finish, introducing yourself. 

"It's really nice to meet you. You look phenomenal." He says, holding your hand up to spin you around. You can't help but let out a loud laugh as a blush spreads across your cheeks. 

"Thank you." You whisper. "Shall we?" 

He waves to Lay and everyone else before taking your arm in his and leading you out the door. You left three excited men behind you and one who felt annoyed but didn't quite know why. 

** 

You hadn't laughed so hard until tears rolled down your cheeks and you held your stomach for a very long time. You honestly were surprised at how much you and Matthew had in common. You both enjoyed the same type of music, food, and pastimes. You had yet to meet someone who loved the same authors as you, who enjoyed doing your favorite activities and who genuinely seemed like a great person but here he was, sitting right in front of you at this nice restaurant. 

"I have to admit something." Matthew begins. Your stomach drops as you feel like he's going to tell you he's married or has a girlfriend, something that's going to make you lose trust in men, again. 

"Go on." You say, forcing a smile before taking a sip of your drink. 

"I really like you." He grins. "It's insane, I have never met someone I had so much in common with until tonight." 

"I was just thinking the same thing." You laugh, feeling relieved at his confession. You liked Matthew, he seemed as though he would be good for you and treat you right, although you thought that Chanyeol would do the same and look how that turned out. 

Beep 

Beep 

Beep 

Matthew's pager beeps incessantly. He takes it from the waistband of his pants, checking the page and stands up abruptly. "I'm so sorry." He sighs. "I have to go, there was an accident and I'm needed in the OR." He explains. 

"Go." You say, waving your hands to emphasize. 

"I had a wonderful time Y/N, and I hope I get to see you again." He grins. He places down a few hundred bills on the table before kissing your hand, and with a wink he was off and your heart was pumping fast as red spreads across your cheeks. 

Oh boy. 

Your blush is still present as you walk through the door of your apartment. You see Baekhyun sitting on your couch with his arms crossed as he watches a show, not even acknowledging your presence. 

"Why are you still here?" You ask, tossing your purse on the chair. 

"I wanna hear all about Matthew." He mimics, rolling his eyes. "How was your date?" 

"It was really nice. We have a lot in common, which is strange. He seems really nice and we get along amazingly. He was paged into surgery so it ended early." You tell him. "So cool." 

"Oh wow, surgery huh?" Baekhyun says, nodding his head. "Did I tell you I'm auditioning for a band?" He smiles. 

"Are you really?" You ask, a little shocked. 

"Maybe." He says, clearing his throat, turning back to the show. 

You sit beside him, you dress riding up just a little to expose your thigh. You're focused on the show, barely realizing that Baekhyun has now rested his hand on your bare thigh, his thumb lightly rubbing the same spot. 

Why did you feel butterflies? Why was your pussy throbbing? It's probably just friendly, there's no way Baekhyun has feelings for you. 

Right?

As the show played on, your eyes became increasingly droopy, feeling the exhaustion and excitement of today finally catching up with you. Your eyes slowly close as you lean your head back onto the couch. 

You weren't sure when it happened, but you woke up, what you're assuming is a few hours later with your head on Baekhyun's lap while he gently rubbed your head, running his fingers through your hair. Your body shivered at the gentle sensation and you closed your eyes once again, feeling safe and happy as you dozed off. 

** 

When you woke up the next morning, you were laying on the couch, alone with a blanket draped over you. Your eyes searched your apartment and there was no sign of Baekhyun.  You had no idea when he had left but a part of you felt a little hurt that he left without saying goodbye to you. You rolled yourself off the couch and shuffled into your room, changing your clothes to something more comfortable. 

When you were done you made your way to the kitchen to find food when your front door opened. In walked Baekhyun with a large bag from your favorite food place. 

"You didn't." You grin. "It's so far away." 

"I did, and it was worth it to see the look on your face." He laughs, setting the bag down on the table. 

The two of you sit down, and have breakfast together and chat. You hadn't realized that Baekhyun actually had a lot in common with you as well. You didn't know why the two of you had never talked about these things but you felt like it was a crazy coincidence that two men match with you so well. Although you knew Baekhyun's feelings were strictly platonic, there was no way that he felt anything romantically for you. 

"I gotta go to work, but we'll hang out later, if you're up for it?" He asks, throwing his garbage away. 

"Of course." You smile. You look in his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes and you just want to melt. You liked Baekhyun, alot. Maybe it was just from how good he's been treating you lately, or maybe the feelings were real, you would never know because you were going to focus on changing your feelings for Baekhyun to feelings for Matthew, someone you knew you actually had a chance with. 

** 

Later that day you were doing some work on your computer for the company you work for, luckily you're able to do your work from home, giving you plenty of time to be free during the day for activities. You're brought out of your zone by a text from Matthew, asking you if you wanted to grab a late lunch around 2pm, and immediately your mood changed, and you happily replied that you would love to. 

At 1:50pm, you sat at the restaurant, a drink in front of you while you waited for Matthew. Seeing him walk through the door, your heart did a mini dance as he smiled at you, heading towards the table you had already gotten. 

"Hey there beautiful." He grins, sitting across from you. 

"Hi." You giggle. "How has your day been?" 

"Busy and stressful, but that's all been forgotten now that I have you in front of me." He says. You smile widely, burying your head in your hands. He was so sweet, and you didn't know how to react to it. After the two of you order, you're in the middle of a conversation about a movie you had each recently watched, when out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone familiar. You look over and at a table that was too close for your liking sat Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Maya. Your attitude, demeanour and mood completely changed when you noticed them. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you looked away. You look at Matthew who instantly looks concerned. 

"What's wrong? Did I say something?" He asks, leaning in closely to whisper to you. 

"T-that's my ex.. and the girl he chose over me, and his best friend who I'm still friends with." You whisper, nodding your head towards them.

Matthew discreetly looks over and notices the blonde man looking in your direction, pain in his eyes from the moment he saw you. 

"Look at me." Matthew whispers. You look up at him, trying to control the tears. "That boy is an idiot for giving you up. You are one in a million. You're smart, funny, beautiful, caring and an all around amazing person to be around. Don't give them anymore of your tears, princess. They don't deserve them, and you don't deserve to cry over them." He smiles. 

You sit up, taking a deep breath, smiling at the man across from you, staring at his beautiful smile. You glance over to the table and see Chanyeol staring at you, sadness in his eyes while Maya glares at you and Baekhyun, he stares at you with what seems like a look of anger. He glares in your direction, his face like stone and you had no idea what you did to make him so mad at you. 

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" Matthew asks. 

You nod your head, knowing you didn't want to be in the same restaurant as Mayeol, it was bad enough to have to be in the same city as them. Matthew grabs the check, escorting you out, his hand hovering over your backside as you walk out, the feeling of eyes watching you burning into your back as you exit the restaurant.  You and Matthew stand outside your door, and he smiles at you. "I'm sorry about the date." He sighs. 

"It wasn't your fault. If anything I should be sorry." You say. 

"You did nothing wrong." He tells you. "I have to get back to the hospital now, but I'll call you." He says, leaning down he presses his lips to yours quickly before pulling away and saying goodbye. 

You walk into your apartment, feeling a little confused. That didn't go how you imagined it at all. As you're trying to get out of your sundress, there's a knock at the door before someone walks in. You turn around and see Baekhyun standing there, watching you. 

"You looked pretty comfortable and intimate with what's his name." He blurts out, walking towards you. He stands closely behind you, you can feel his breath on your neck as he pulls down the zipper of your dress. 

"Yeah well you looked pretty comfortable with fucking Maya and Chanyeol." You retort, trying to storm away from him. Your dress slips off your body, landing on the floor. Baekhyun follows you, reaching out to grab your wrist. He spins you around to face him. He pulls your body closer to his. 

"What do you want?" He asks. You don't answer, your lips parted as you try to form a sentence. Baekhyun's eyes drop down to your lips. He licks his lips and sighs. You can feel his breath, so close to you, almost kissing you. "What do you want from me, Y/N?" He asks. 

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. You look into his eyes, one word on the tip of your tongue. 

You. Just say it. You want him. Tell him. 

But you say nothing. 

Baekhyun sighs. "That's what I thought." He says,  moving away from you and picking up your dress from the floor. He hands it to you, leaning in to press his lips against your temple. "Call me when you know what you want." He says, walking away from you and out the door. 

What did that mean? Did he want you like you wanted him? Why couldn't you have just told him right then and there? 

You were scared. You were scared of rejection, you were scared he didn't mean it, maybe his feelings towards you weren't real. But then again, you would never know unless you talked to him. 

Later that night you laid in your bed, thinking about Baekhyun. You couldn't sleep, so you grabbed your purse and your keys, drive aimlessly around town. A little while later, you glance at the clock that reads 2am, you park your car and you pull out your phone and call him. You felt like you were going to vomit as the phone rang. 

"Hello?" A groggy voice answered. 

"You." You whisper through the speaker. "I want you."  

"Y/N." He breathes. 

"Open the door, Baekhyun." You whisper. 

You can hear him get out of bed and stomp towards the front door. He pulls it open and there you are, your phone pressed against your ear, wearing a nightshirt and shorts. 

"I want you." You say again, pulling the phone away from your ear. 

Baekhyun pulls you inside, slamming the door behind you before pinning you against the front door. 

"Fuck it." He groans, crashing his lips against yours, pulling your body in closer to his. His hands roaming your body as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands move under your shirt and up your torso, cupping a bare breast. He groans into the kiss as he pinches your hard nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He presses his crotch into your leg, allowing you to feel his hard cock pushing against his boxers. 

You reach your hand down, sliding it into his waistband, grabbing his cock and slowly pumping, making his knees buckle. 

"Fuck." He murmurs, breaking the kiss. He leans his head into your neck, placing small kisses as you stroke his cock. 

Suddenly he stands up straight, pulling your hand from inside his boxers. He grabs your hand and leads you to his bedroom. 

"Take off your clothes." He growls. 

You maintain eye contact as you slip your shirt off your body, dropping it to the floor and the shimmy off your shorts, letting them pool around your ankles. You stand there naked in front of Baekhyun who takes in every curve and crevasse of your body. 

"Get on the bed." He whispers. You move to the bed, slowly climbing on and laying on your back. 

"So fucking beautiful." He moans, crawling on top of you. "I just wanna be inside you." He whispers. You nod your head, giving him all the consent he needs. 

Baekhyun spits on his hand, pumping his cock. He lifts your legs over his shoulder before lining him up with your entrance. He pushes himself into you, stretching your pussy out, making you cry out loudly. 

It had been so long for you, you forgot what it felt like to be fucked. Your hands grip the bed sheets as Baekhyun slides his cock in and out of you slowly. 

"How do you want it, baby?" He asks, moving slowly still. 

"Faster." You moan. "Fuck me Baekhyun." 

His eyes become dark after hearing your words. His hands wrap around your ankles as he starts thrusting harder into you, the sound of skin slapping fills the room.

"Oh god." You cry out, your hands cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples as he pumps his cock into you. 

Baekhyun releases one of your legs, placing his thumb between your lips to rub your clit. He rubs in circles, making you clench around him. 

"Just like that." You cry out as you buck your hips. You knew you were going to cum soon, you hadn't had an orgasm since Chanyeol left. 

"Fuck." Baekhyun groans. 

"I'm gonna cum." You scream as he fucks you harder, and continues to rub you. 

Your orgasm hits you, making you scream out in pleasure, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tighten around Baekhyun once again. 

He groans loudly, suddenly cumming, shooting his load inside of you, breathing heavily as he works through his orgasm. 

"Holy fuck." He sighs, pulling out of you. He lays next to you, and you snuggle into him, not caring about the mess, just being completely and utterly happy in the moment.

**

"So.." Baekhyun starts off the next morning, as you lay in his bed, tangled in his sheets. You have one leg and one arm sprawled across him as you snuggle in closer to him. "What about Matthew?" He asks.  

"I called him yesterday after you left, and I told him I didn't think things were going to work out, but I would like to remain friends." You explain. 

"And he was fine with that?" He asks. 

"He asked if there was someone else." You sigh. "I told him I wasn't sure, but I hoped and he wished me luck." 

"I didn't like you seeing him." Baekhyun admits. "It hurt but I felt like I couldn't do anything." He says. 

"Why?" You ask. 

"Because.. Chanyeol is my best friend and you were his." He tells you. 

"Chanyeol made his decision, and he chose Maya. I'm free to date whoever I want, and I want you." You whisper. 

"Oh baby girl." Baekhyun growls. "You have no idea what you do to me." He whispers, rolling over on top of you, pressing his lips to yours. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in closer to you, never having felt so wanted or loved. 

** 

It has been a few months of you and Baekhyun dating, and you've kept it under wraps for the most part, wanting to stay in your little bubble of happiness. But now your friends were getting suspicious and you felt like it was time to tell them. And what other perfect time to tell them then at a dinner party that everyone is attending. 

That night you and Baekhyun had brought a spinach and artichoke dip that you made together and it was the best thing ever. You told Jongdae and his wife the news first, and they were both extremely happy for the both of you. 

Next, Minseok, Suho, Kyungsoo, Kai and Lay were told and they were all happy for you two, except Lay who was disappointed that things didn't work with Matthew, but he was happy that you were happy. 

You all sat around the dinner table when Chanyeol, Sehun and Maya walked in. Things instantly got tense and quiet the minute they entered the room. They hadn't noticed you yet and you could feel the knots forming in your stomach. 

"Hey guys." Chanyeol smiled, looking around the room and then his eyes landed on you and his smile dropped. 

"Hi friends." Maya chirps up, not realizing you were there until Sehun pointed it out, quite loudly and rudely. 

"Why is she here?" He asks, nodding his head towards you. 

"Because she's our friend." Jongdae pipes up, glare at Sehun.

"It's just weird." Maya comments, sitting down at the table. You ball your hands into fists under the table. Baekhyun reaches under the table, grabbing your hand to calm you down, showing you he's there and has your back. 

"It's not weird, actually." Baekhyun pipes up. "What's weird is coming to a gathering when you know no one here likes you. That's weird." He says, looking at Maya. 

"Baek." Chanyeol sighs. "She's my girlfriend." He says, as if that's a good enough reason. 

"Okay." Baekhyun says. "And she's mine." He says, nodding towards you. "So tell your girl to show some respect." 

"You're what?" Chanyeol asks, staring at you and Baekhyun, not even acknowledging the fact that Maya is sitting there with her mouth open and offended. "You're dating my ex-girlfriend?" 

"I am." Baekhyun says, not caring about Chanyeol's reaction anymore. 

"You.. you can't do that." He says. 

"And why not?" Baekhyun wonders. "You left her. You chose that over this amazing woman. You have no right to be angry here. You broke her, tore her apart and I'm putting the pieces back together." 

"I don't want her here." Maya pouts. 

"And no one wants you here." You chime in. You were tired of her and she had only been here for a few minutes. 

"Chanyeol." She whines, nudging him but he's still not paying attention to her, only looking at you and Baekhyun. 

"So.. what did you guys bring?" Lay asks, nodding towards their dish.

"Buffalo chicken dip." Maya says, with a smile.

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes. "You mean you're still making the recipe that Chanyeol and I made together?" You ask with a smile on your face. 

Maya's smile instantly drops, looking at you with disgust. "Chanyeol." She yells. 

"What?" He snaps, turning to look at her. 

"Do something." She whines. 

"You don't have to do anything, man. We're gonna go. Thanks for having us, Jongdae. It's been interesting." Baekhyun says. He looks at you and holds out his hand. "Ready?" He asks you. You smile at him, taking his hand and walking out, hand in hand with the man who made you the happiest you've been. 

** 

A few days later you're in your apartment, singing and dancing as you clean up the place. You no longer missed Chanyeol, his name no longer brought pain to your heart, seeing things that reminded you of him no longer made you cry. You had Baekhyun now, and he treated you like a queen. 

You're walking past your front door when you hear a faint knock. You open it slightly and see an exhausted looking Chanyeol standing on the other side. 

"Can we talk?" He asks. 

You didn't want to hear what he had to say, but you decided to be nice and let him in. 

"What?" You ask, sitting on your couch as he stands in front of you. 

"I fucked up." He blurts out. "I should have never chosen Maya over you. I didn't realize what I was doing at the time, Y/N, please forgive me. I miss you. I miss us. We were great together." He breathes. 

You're shocked. You had spent weeks crying over him, wishing for him to come to you and say these words to you but now it was too late. 

"You're a little too late now." You say to him.

"I know you're with Baekhyun, but I had you first." He says. 

You scoff at him. "How dare you? How could you come here months after you left me for Maya and beg for me back when I'm finally happy again? It took a long time for me to be okay. Baekhyun has been there for me, he was the one who helped put me back together. You chose Maya. You made your bed." You yell. "Get out Chanyeol." 

"Y/N please." He begs. 

"No, you need to leave. I don't want you. I don't love you anymore." You tell him.

Chanyeol walks out the door, looking back at you with tears in his eyes. You felt no remorse for him. You had felt the way he was feeling, it was his own fault and you refused to be torn apart by him  again. Chanyeol was now your past, and Baekhyun was your future and you couldn't be happier about it. 

[myherowritings]

anywhere the wind blows

SUMMARY. After hunting a bounty near Wangshu Inn, you sensed the faint scent of qingxin blowing in the familiar wind. It seemed like it was leading you somewhere.

PAIRING. xiao x reader

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

GENRE. fluff, pre 1.3 release

A/N. my first genshin fic of my fav character xiao !! i’m definitely still getting used to writing for this world and for him but i hope this isn’t too bad 🥺 i’m so excited for xiao’s story and banner and can’t wait to learn more about him! if 1.3 comes and totally undermines the small guesses abt the lore i added into this fic then…we pretend we do not see u.u ANYWAY PLS ENJOY xx sof

“A rock shieldwall Mitachurl with a resistance to cryo,” you murmured to yourself with a satisfied smile, picking up the ominous mask and heavy horn that it dropped from the fight. “No more terrorizing Wangshu for you.”

You had just accepted a bounty handed out to you in Liyue and arranged for the proper party to come pick it up. The rewards were promptly transferred to your tab and you bade the team who came to collect the Mitachurl a swift goodbye.

It wasn’t normally on your daily agenda to hunt bounty for money—though the mora was quite appealing, you couldn’t lie—but when the beasts were too close to civilization and scared both residents and passerbyers in Liyue alike, you felt a greater need to step in. And now, after a job well done with some mora in your pockets, you realized just how tired and hungry that search made you.

Looking up, you saw the peak of the inn from a distance and followed the silk flower-covered path there. It wasn’t often you frequented Wangshu Inn, but you have visited enough to know their Jueyun Chili Chicken and Almond Tofu were pretty solid reasons to drop by again.

Your appearance was rather disheveled from your fight with the Mitachurl but you weren’t too messy-looking—certainly decent enough to interact with other humans you hoped. Smoothing down your clothes and practicing a smile, you headed over to the outdoor dining area and were greeted by a waitress who led you to an empty table as she asked for your order. The exchange was pleasant enough and you were soon left to your own devices once your food swiftly arrived.

It was dark out in Wangshu. The bounty hunt took most of your late afternoon and by now the sun had fully set. The dining area was quiet and empty with only the moon watching over you.

You hummed, taking in a mouthful of the sweet Almond Tofu. The night was nice and peaceful and quiet, just like most of your evenings.

A familiar breeze blew against your face, chilling yet warm. Captivating. There was a faint smell of qingxin, like the flowers you grew fond of during your explorations around Liyue’s stone forests.

The wind was different from what you experienced in Mondstadt. That air was light and playful. Free.

The wind you felt just now, on the other hand, seemed to convey something more wistful. Almost yearning.

And it wasn’t your first encounter with this qingxin-filled breeze either. When you helped comfort Little Luo back in Qingce Village and fended off the pesky Hilichurls on her trail, this wind blew around you and cooled the heat from your cheeks. Around Bubu Pharmacy when you spent time with Qiqi, a zombie you happened to stumble upon one day, you felt the same curious breeze.

Part of you felt like you were being watched over. But not in a bad way. It made you feel safe and protected, yet empowered enough to continue your bold expeditions and help the people of Liyue when you were needed.

The wind stuck around as you finished your meal, the aroma of Almond Tofu wafting through the air from the wandering breeze, almost as if it was seeking a taste. Once your plates were cleared and your drink emptied, you headed inside the inn and hoped they had a spare room on such a short notice and—to your surprise—for once they actually did.

On the way up the stairs, you passed by an open balcony near the top of the inn where you caught a glimpse of a lean figure with dark hair looking up at the night sky. You normally would have walked away from the balcony and left the man to his own devices, promptly going to your rented room to get some much needed rest, but the familiar scent of qingxin flowers dancing in the wind made you freeze mid-step.

Wangshu Inn wasn’t too far from mountain tops where qingxin grew… It could have been a mere coincidence.

But in Liyue, you knew that believing such things could be a coincidence would simply be fooling yourself.

The person on the balcony gave no indication that he felt your gaze, but you knew intuitively that he had already sensed your presence despite not having moved a single inch. His stance was so steady you might have thought he was a statue if not for his teal-tinged hair blowing in the wind.

Could he have been the cause of the qingxin breeze that recently started following you around?

“Hi,” you said gently to more formally announce your presence. On the off-chance he didn’t realize anyone was there, you definitely didn’t want to startle him. But judging by the unsurprised expression on his face as he slowly looked over his shoulder, you sincerely doubted he was one to startle easily. “May I stand here?”

His eyes were scrutinizing but not unkind as they looked you up and down. You took your time examining him as well— From the top of his silky-looking hair to the blue tattoos wrapping around his arms and to the mysterious horned mask hanging from his hip.

“I suppose you may,” he finally replied with a single nod, his voice neither welcoming nor rude.

You stood a few feet away from him, leaning against the wooden balustrades as you let the cool air hit your face. The night was quiet and calm, dimly lit by the moon peeking through the foggy sky. Sighing, your eyes fluttered shut in contentment as you felt the wind soothe the aches from the bounty hunt in your muscles.

You wouldn’t normally let your guard down like this in front of someone you just met, but for some reason you weren’t the least bit on edge. He didn’t seem like a stranger. And you had a feeling that maybe he wasn’t.

“Have we met before?” you found yourself wondering aloud. The mask on his hip looked familiar, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, like you’ve seen it in a book you’ve read. And the air around him certainly felt familiar, though it seemed strange to describe why.

He didn’t respond.

Huffing, you tried a different approach. A more direct one. “Have you been following me?”

His brow raised but he uttered no words.

Was that approach too direct?

After a moment of silence, he said, “Were you not the one who followed me out onto the balcony? If I remember correctly, I was here first.”

“But were you not the one who drew me here with your qingxin-scented breeze?” you shot back, tone more curious than biting.

To your surprise, he said nothing to deny it. “Attentive, I see.”

“I’m not sure it’s quite that I’m attentive rather than you wanting me to know.” You hid a smile. He wouldn’t have made it so obvious otherwise, you were certain of it. For someone who held more power in his little finger than you could possibly fathom, you knew that him alerting you of his existence couldn’t be a mere accident.

“You’re right.” He shrugged. “But it’s not so much that I wanted to call you here than I didn’t mind if you happened to stumble by.”

You ran the palms of your hands over the railings, craning your neck to the side to face him. He was a puzzling creature, giving off the aura of something greater and more powerful than a human. The ominous mask dangling around his hip seemed to serve as a word of caution to indicate a menacing side he hadn’t shown you, but his calm stance and the small tilt of his head made him seem curious—almost inviting.

It was intriguing, to say the least.

“And why did you want me to, as you say, stumble by?” you said. “Not that I mind.”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, shaking his head and looking confused himself. “Intuition? I noticed you fighting, helping the people of Liyue. You’re doing a...good job.”

You shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck as you shied away from his praise. “So you summoned me here to thank me?”

“I don’t know,” he said again, his impassive tone sounding almost frustrated.

At the small frown playing on his lips, you couldn’t help but let a noise of laughter escape you. He gazed at you in question. This whole situation seemed strange and peculiar, straight out of a dream you’d have at random only to forget the next morning. He seemed strange and peculiar, like a figure out of a story book lost in the ruins of Liyue.

And yet you found yourself enjoying this odd encounter.

“Well, Mr. Stranger, since you seem uncertain of so many things still, are you going to continue to have your wind follow me around Liyue until you figure whatever it is out?” you questioned teasingly, not at all minding that prospect.

He glared, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s not that I was following you. I only sensed someone in need but happened to see you rushing along the way and decided to let you handle it. The less involvement in the affairs of mortals, the better.”

So he wasn’t a mortal himself, you thought, his words confirming your previous suspicions. Still…

“Is that so?” You quirked a brow. “And what is this if not for involvement in the affairs of a mortal?”

He folded his arms and didn’t say a word.

“Let me guess— You don’t know?”

“Hmph.”

You smiled. “Well, I guess it’s okay you don’t know. It’s okay not to know sometimes, you know?”

He blinked. “You aren’t making sense.”

“And you are?” you retaliated. “I still don’t know who you are or anything about you yet. But… I know you smell like qingxin flowers and feel like a cooling breeze. And I know that I rather enjoy it.”

The mysterious entity looked out into the mountain scenery, gloved hand resting on the dark balustrade. He seemed both lost in thought and completely aware of his physical surroundings at the same time. Suddenly, he spoke up.

“Xiao.”

Your gaze met his as he nodded once. “Xiao?”

“My name. Now you know who I am.”

You laughed, startled by how blunt he was. “I guess you’re right. Nice to meet you Xiao.”

“Hm.” Xiao waited one moment before he asked, “Do you plan to keep exploring Liyue?”

At his question, you briefly considered your options for the near future. You liked Liyue and there was so much you had left to see. Was it like home to you? No— Not yet anyway, though it could be if the situation was right. But that didn’t mean you wanted to leave just yet.

Not when you may have found a reason you would want to stay.

“For the time being, yes.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “That’s good. You being there to help the people of Liyue means less involvement with mortal affairs for me.”

Though his tone was haughty, he didn’t seem like he actually minded what he considered mortal affairs. If he did, why would he be so alert when he sensed people in need?

“And, if you ever need assistance during your ventures, I’ll be there.”

Xiao’s words comforted you as you looked at him, his hair blowing in the wind. Maybe one day you could reach out and touch it. But not today.

You sensed this meeting was about to end. The breeze picked up and you could feel him getting ready to leave. Whether he was going to leave to go to bed or leave the mortal world, you weren’t sure. But you would rather treasure this encounter than dwell on an inevitable—and hopefully temporary—farewell.

“Thank you, Xiao. And if you ever need assistance with...whatever it is you do, I’ll be there too!” you said confidently. “As I’m sure you’ve seen, I’m pretty handy at weilding a sword myself.” You doubted he would ever need much help in the physical or martial department. “Or, I could simply lend an ear as well.”

It happened so fast, you weren’t sure if it was actually there, or if your eyes were playing tricks on you— Xiao smiled. At least, you thought he did. But in the mere blink of an eye, it was gone.

Still, you don’t think you would ever forget that peaceful image no matter how hard you tried. Not that you wanted to.

Sensing the night coming to an end, you asked, “When will I be able to see you like this again?”

He paused. “In this human form, you mean?”

You nodded, though you figured the answer would be those three familiar words he had said many times tonight.

“I don’t know.”

A wry smile played on your lips. Knew it.

“The mortal realm is not where I naturally belong,” explained Xiao, amber eyes glowing brighter than the moon in the sky. “But I will meet you again in this state soon.”

The scent of qingxin grew stronger as the wind picked up. His skin grew paler, almost translucent as he met your gaze one last time for the night.

“Even if it takes time, at least the wind will tell me when you’re near.” You smiled, raising your hand in a wave. “Goodnight, Xiao.”

“Sleep well, traveller.”

And in your dreams that night, with qingxin in the air, you felt contentment and serenity in ways you never had before. You would see the entrancing being who called himself Xiao again. Soon. But you had the wind to keep you company while in wait.

[thebigbadbatswife]

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever

Summary - Y/N starts wondering if she dodged a bullet or just lost the love of her life.

Warnings - Please only read if you’re 18+, angst, smut, make up sex. 

[A/N] - Inspired by the song ‘I Don’t Wanna Live Forever’ by Taylor Swift

Word Count - 2.9k

The sky was covered in pitch black clouds, completely blocking out the stars. Lightning danced through the clouds and thunder shook the heavens, as rain poured onto the world below. A bright white flash briefly illuminated the old gothic manor that had weathered storms far worse than this one. Inside, the manor’s owner sat alone in front of a fireplace, a glass of bourbon in one hand, his phone in the other. He was so lost in his own thoughts, he barely heard the storm raging outside.

Bruce scrolled through his contacts and only stopped once he had reached her name. He clicked on her contact and his thumb hovered over the call button. After about a minute, he switched the phone off, set it on the nearby table and downed his drink in one. For the past six months, either when he wasn’t going out on patrol (which was rarely), or he had just gotten back from one, this was his ritual. Ever since she walked out of that door, cursing his name and the day they’d met, he found himself back here.

He wanted to call her. God above did he want to call her and make everything alright again, but she had made it extremely clear she never wanted to hear from him ever again. So Bruce didn’t call. He respected that she didn’t want to talk to him.

He set the empty glass onto the table and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes closed and he imagined that, by some miracle, she walked back in through that front door. That she’d see him standing there and would run into his arms. Bruce would wrap his arms around her, bringing her close to his body. His lips would gently brush against hers before he kissed her passionately. He’d lift her up and carry her to his bedroom. Then he’d lay her on his bed before quickly removing both of their clothes and they would stay there for hours on end.  

An involuntary sigh left him as he imagined her skin against his and his eyes snapped open because, no, that wasn’t going to happen. The logical part of his brain knew that. It reminded him constantly, but the part of his brain that dared to dream the impossible? The part of his brain that only existed because of her? That part was still convinced that somehow, someway, that would happen. Because it had to. It just had to… right?

He leaned back in the armchair he was sitting in and a heavy sigh left him. Bruce felt like he was going crazy. Every other relationship he’d had, he had never gone through this before. Even when he wasn’t the one to end it. What was it about her that made her so different?

A voice in the back of his head, and in his chest, told him exactly what made her so different, but he was quick to silence it. He didn’t want to think about that. Especially when she was no longer his. Bruce was brought out of his thoughts from a knock at the doorway. He looked over to his shoulder to see Alfred standing there.

“Master Bruce, may I suggest you get some rest so that you’re ready for that meeting tomorrow morning?” Alfred asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

Bruce chuckled and shook his head and turned his attention away from the older man. “Sleep? That’s the last thing I need, or want, right now, Alfred.”

His dreams had been all the same since she left. They were always about her. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. She was the main feature in all of them and he always woke up calling her name. It wasn’t bad enough she infected his thoughts during the day, non, she had to infect his subconscious as well. There was a small part of Bruce that wondered if perhaps she had similar dreams, but since she was the one that had left, she couldn’t be. Could she?

You were sitting up late on your windowsill seat, looking out over the city. For reasons you couldn’t fathom, Bruce was on your mind tonight and he refused to leave. You were slowly running through everything that had happened between the two of you and there was a part of you that was wondering if leaving had been the right decision.

When the two of you had finally gone public with your relationship, the paparazzi had constantly invaded your privacy. It had gotten on your nerves, as well as made you a little scared. Not to mention that your life had been threatened by Bruce’s enemies and those threats had increased after you had learnt his secret. It certainly hadn’t helped that every now and then a particularly crazy ex of his would show up out of the blue, nor the fact that you knew that one of them was literally an assassin.

However, even with all of that, yours and Bruce’s relationship had been one of the best things to have ever happened to you. All of your past exes, at some point, had ended up either getting aggressive with you or lost interest and left. Never Bruce though.

When you’d been together he had always made it a point to ask you about your day or how you had slept. If you’d had a bad day or dream or whatever, really, then he would do what he could to try and cheer you up. When he was away on business trips and couldn’t take you along with him, he always made sure to either text or facetime you before you went to bed, no matter what the time it was for him. And if he was ever forced to cancel a date or accidentally missed an anniversary he would always make it up to you in the best possible way.

It was memories like these that had you wondering if you truly had dodged a bullet by leaving Bruce or if you had just caused yourself to lose the love of your life.

You wanted to scream! Why were you thinking about all of this now?! You could understand thinking all this before you had made the decision, but afterwards? After it had all been said and done? It made no sense!

You ran your hands through your hair and let out a frustrated sigh. You eyed your phone sitting on the other side of your windowsill seat. Should you call him? Let him know you had made a mistake? You knew he would probably still be awake at this hour… That’s when you remembered the article you’d seen a couple of days ago where Bruce had been pictured at a gala with a rather beautiful woman on his arm. It could just be for show…

‘Or he’s already moved on,’ you thought sadly. It didn’t matter if you had made a mistake or not, it was far too late to correct it now. With that thought, you got up from where you were sitting and made your way to bed.

A couple of nights later you found yourself in the exclusive nightclub, The Sirens. Your best friend, Tracey, had dragged you here saying it was about time you found someone else. And this club was the perfect place to do exactly that!

You really hadn’t wanted to go, but since she was your best friend, and you didn’t want to disappoint her, you agreed to go.

You were wearing a short low cut black dress, that perfectly highlighted your assets, with matching black heels. As for your makeup, you had gone for a dark smokey eye and a red lipstick. The lipstick had, of course, been Tracey’s idea. As she had applied it, she had enthusiastically claimed that men would not be able to keep their eyes off of you. And she had been right.

All night men had been coming up to you, trying to flirt, bought you a couple of drinks and you had turned them all down. There was only one man that you wanted to be paying attention to you and you were now the last thing on his mind. You inwardly laughed at yourself. Here you were in one of the nicest places in Gotham City (and that was saying something since this was Gotham after all), and you were standing around, turning down perfectly good hotties and looking sad because you couldn’t stop thinking about Bruce fucking Wayne! It was pathetic.

As you turned down yet another perfectly suitable one night stand candidate, Tracey came over to you, annoyance sparkling in her emerald eyes.

“Seriously? What was wrong with that one!” she exclaimed as she gestured in the direction the man had gone. You leant an elbow on the bar's surface and ran your hand through your hair.

“Nothing,” you replied quietly. Nothing had been wrong with the five before him. Well, nothing except for the fact that none of them were him.

“Fuck, you’re really not over him,” Tracey stated when she saw your expression.

“No, Tracey, I’m not. I thought I was, but...” you trailed off as you turned your head to meet her gaze. She shook her head which caused her blonde ringlet curls to bouncy slightly. Tracey then grabbed your hand.

“Come on,” she said as she started to pull you away from the bar and outside the club.

As soon as you were outside, she let go and quickly hailed down a cab. As one pulled up, she tugged you over to it.

“What are you doing?” you asked as she did so. She stopped and turned around and faced you, placing her hands on both of your shoulders.

“You are getting into that cab, you are going to Wayne Manor and you are going to tell that billionaire playboy you ain’t over him. Then you’re going to have a fan-fucking-tastic night, which you’re going to tell every single detail of to me, tomorrow. Understood?”

“But Tracey, what about that picture?” You didn’t need to elaborate as Tracey had been there when you’d come across the article.

“Right, I can’t tell you how I know this, but from what I heard, Brucie boy didn’t say a word to her after that picture was taken. Hell, apparently he just left her there at the end of the night! Which means, he’s probably moping over you like you’re moping over him,” she replied as she continued to drag you over to the cab and basically pushed you inside. “Now go and make sure you have fun!”

Before you were able to protest further, Tracey was already walking away.

“Where to, miss?” the cab driver asked. You couldn’t believe you were doing this.

“Wayne Manor, please.”

The drive to Wayne Manor was far longer than you remembered it being, which meant that you had far too much time to think about what you were doing. Was this really such a good idea?

As the cab started up the driveway and eventually came to a stop right outside the Manor, you knew there was absolutely no turning back. There hadn’t been the second you had told the driver to bring you here. So you paid the cab driver his fair and got out.

As the car drove away you looked up at the Manor before beginning to slowly make your way up the front steps. Nervously, you rung the doorbell. A few minutes past and the door opened, revealing a very confused Alfred.

“Miss Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I came to talk to Bruce. Is he home?”

“Of course,” Alfred stood to the side to allow you into the Manor. Once you’d entered and he had shut the door, he began to lead you through the halls to the room Bruce was currently in. “Right this way.”

When you got there, Alfred bid you good luck and then left off to get back to whatever it was he had been doing before your arrival. Taking a deep breath, you entered the room.

Bruce was pouring himself a drink when you walked in. The sound of your heels on the polished wood floor made him stop and he looked over his shoulder at you. His eyes were wide like he had just seen a ghost.

“Y/N…” your name was barely a whisper as it left him.

“Hi,” you replied timidly. You realised that you had no idea what you wanted to say to him.  

He abandoned his drink and approached you slowly, like if he moved too quickly you would sudden evaporate before his eyes. He came to a stop before you and his hands came up and cupped your face. One of your own hands came up and rested over the top of his. His blue eyes swirled with too many emotions for you to make out clearly what they were. One of them, however, you saw just long enough for a warm feeling to start flooding through your chest.

“You came back.” The disbelief was more than evident in his voice as he spoke.

“I did. Bruce I’m so sorry, I…”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” he replied, cutting off your apology. “Just kiss me.”

You leaned up and kissed him, putting all of the passion you could behind it. It wasn’t long before the kiss turned heated, your tongues quickly slipping into each other's mouths and you found yourself pushed up against the wall. To make it easier on the both of you, Bruce hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips and your arms around his neck.

Bruce was soon kissing and biting at your neck as one of his large hands slipped into your dress and began to fondle one of your breasts. A moan left you as he gently tweaked your nipple. He trailed kisses up your neck, along your jawline and back to your lips. As you kissed and he continued to fondle your chest, you decided you’d had enough of the foreplay and that you wanted, no you needed, him inside you.

You pulled away, breathing hard and trying to return some oxygen to your brain. “Bruce, I need you. Now,” you said in between pants. He answered by pulling you away from the wall and carrying you through the Manor, toward his bedroom. As he climbed the stairs and walked through the hallways you resumed kissing and began to unbutton his shirt.

Once you reached his bedroom, you were both quick to remove your clothes and settle on the bed. Bruce hovered over you as he aligned himself with your entrance. Then his blue eyes were meeting yours and he silently asked for your permission. You answered with a small nod and then he was slowly pushing his cock into you.

You let out a pleasure filled cry as your walls stretched around his cock. A low guttural groan left him as well. Fuck, you had forgotten how good he felt. When he was fully in, he stilled and ducked down and captured your lips with his. Once you had adjusted to him, you let him know with a small roll of your hips and he began to move. He started off slow, drawing out each of his movements, before picking up speed.

“Fuck… Bruce!” were the only words you could coherent form as he slammed into you and stole the breath from your lungs. The grip he had on your hips was sure to leave bruises there, not that you cared. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud and obscene in the room and nearly drowned out the moaning mess Bruce had turned you into. As always, other than the occasional grunt or groan, Bruce was mostly silent.

“Y/N, I’m close,” he managed to say as his thrusts were starting to become more erratic.

“Me too…” you managed to reply in between your moans. No sooner had the words left your mouth you suddenly felt his thumb against your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. Suddenly the pleasure was all too much and you came crying his name. Then Bruce was pulling out of you and spilled his seed across your stomach.

After you two had cleaned up, Bruce gathered you up in his arms and maneuvered you under the covers with him, before pulling you in close. You were both silent as you laid there, you both felt as if you had gotten out everything you needed to say through your lovemaking. Well, almost everything. There was the big question of whenever or not this meant you were back together.

“Bruce?” you called out softly as you pulled away just far enough so you could see his face. He brushed an errant strand of hair away from your face.

“Yes?” he answered.

“Does this mean… I mean, are we…?”

“Back together?” Bruce asked as he finished your sentence. You nodded and he smiled. “I fucking hope so.” You chuckled a little at that.

“So, this means you still want me?”

“Darling, of course I still want you. I will always want you,” he replied before kissing you gently. When the kiss ended, you snuggled in close to him. “And I’m sorry about what happened. I’ll never be that reckless again. I promise.”

“I should hope not and, for the record, I’m always going to want you as well.”  

[dreamerstreamer]

Devil-May-Care

Pairing: demon!Dream / Clay x demon hunter!gn!reader

Summary: [Demon Hunter!AU] When you went in search of the most powerful demon known to mankind, you didn’t expect him to be so charming.

Warnings: a little horror + some violence + tw// weapons (crossbow, gun)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this was requested by a passionate anon! i fell in love with the request at first sight and had loads of fun writing this, although i did take some creative liberty with it. i hope you all enjoy :)

You huffed as you pushed past the branch hanging in your face, wrinkling your nose as you trudged onward. The forest was almost eerily silent around you, the pitch black night doing nothing to ease the tension that had gathered in your shoulders. Above you, the moon and stars twinkled soundlessly, peering down at you with wide, watching eyes.

Where could he possibly be hiding? you thought to yourself with a grimace. Is he even in this forest?

Your mentor had told you that this forest was the last place he’d ever been seen, and that it would be your best bet. But she also told you not to get your hopes too high, since he was known to be a trickster who never stayed in one spot for too long.

You sighed as you stepped over a fallen log, making sure not to trip. Despite how young the night was, you were already getting tired. Tracking was arguably the hardest part of your job, and easily your least favourite part of it.

Then again, no one said being a demon hunter was easy.

With a slight grumble, you squinted through the darkness while walking past another tree. So far, all you’d seen was tree after after tree, and you were getting fed up. Heck, you could have sworn there was a clearing just ahead of you here.

It was at that moment that the trees suddenly parted before you, and you found yourself standing in the middle of a clearing. The soft grass rustled beneath your feet as you took a tentative step forward, your ears perking up for any noise or movement. When nothing came, the muscles in your legs tensed.

This was the first clearing you had found in hours, and something about it just felt off.

“What are you looking for, little hunter?”

You whirled at the sound of the low, curling voice, your gaze frantically darting around the darkness for its source. You kept your lips pursed as your head whipped this way and that, nothing but silence filling the forest air. Even with the light of the moon, all you could make out between the shadows were the silhouettes of trees and their taunting branches looming over you.

There was no way it was who you thought it was... right?

“Not gonna say anything? Hm. Perhaps that’s just because you can’t see me. Here.”

You heard the snap of a finger, and the clearing around you suddenly lit up in a faint, greenish hue. Your eyes widened as the earth you stood upon began to glow, your fingers twitching at your side. Turning again, you quickly searched your surroundings once more for the voice’s owner. Everything seemed to be exactly how it appeared when you first arrived—the trees were just trees and the grass was just grass, even if they were both admittedly glowing.

Just then, there came a whistle from above you.

You lifted your head, and your gaze fell upon a figure sitting atop a tree branch a few feet away. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

Piercing, emerald eyes. A green fitted shirt to match. Dark, golden hair. A smattering of freckles. A cold, wicked grin.

The man smiled at you, swinging his legs leisurely as he tilted his head. “Hello there, pet.”

You didn’t wait another second before your arms were reaching up behind you, pulling your crossbow off your back. You slotted the arrow into the flight groove in near record time before aiming it up at him, aiming for but a split second before you pulled the trigger. In a flash, the arrow went flying through the night sky, pointed directly at his face. You could have sworn you caught his eyes turn red before he suddenly vanished, your arrow passing through empty space before pinning itself into the tree trunk he had been leaning against just seconds prior.

You panted, quickly pulling another arrow out of your quiver and reloading your crossbow as you turned in a circle, not a single detail going unnoticed by your watchful eyes. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you tried to focus on the rustling leaves around you. Your fingers curled around the stock of your bow a fraction tighter, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Where is he? Where did he go?

A smooth voice curled around the back of your neck.

“Is this how you greet everyone you meet, or am I just special?”

Whipping around again, you pulled the trigger without even an ounce of hesitation. A twang of satisfaction shot through you as you heard the distinct sound of flesh being pierced, followed by a tumble to the ground. You rushed over at the sight of the man—or demon, as you should be calling him—lying sprawled on the ground, his arms casually tucked under his head as if he hadn’t just been shot.

“Ooh,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around the arrow sticking out of his chest, “your arrows are made of dreamshade.” He grinned at you. “Smart one, aren’t you?”

Before you could even react, he ripped the arrow out, watching with amusement as crimson slowly dripped onto the front of his shirt. You stared at the hole in his chest, left behind by your arrow, a glimmer of glee expanding in your chest. Yes! you thought, your lips quirking as your hand floated toward the pistol hanging at your side. Now’s my cha—

All of a sudden, you watched in horror as the skin began to reform, the sinew and muscle stitching themselves back together to fill the gap. In an instant, his chest was whole again, the hole having disappeared entirely with nothing to even hint at its existence, were it not for the tear in his shirt.

“Unfortunately for you,” he said, tossing the arrow behind his head with a flick of his fingers, “I’m tougher than most demons out there.”

In a flash, you were standing over him, one foot digging into his chest. You didn’t even give him the chance to blink before you were pointing your crossbow at him once more, this time just barely allowing the arrow tip to hover above his neck. You tried to calm your breaths, pushing back the sick sense of joy you could feel starting to boil over inside you. You were so, so close to just killing hi—

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to attack me without even asking for my name?” he calmly drawled, looking bored out of his mind.

You blinked in surprise, your thoughts faltering for a moment before your expression hardened once more. “I know who you are.”

He cocked his head at you, something like delight swimming in his viridian eyes. “Do you, now?”

You gulped, hesitating only for a moment before you began to speak. “Y-You’re Dream. Lord of chaos. Progenitor of destruction. Harbinger of nightmares.” You nearly choked on your own words.

“The world’s most powerful demon.”

He grinned at you, clapping his hands together above his head as he let out a small hoot. “Aw, you know all my titles?” He winked. “That’s cute.”

Cute, your brain repeated dumbly, a fuzzy feeling forming in your chest, but you quickly shook the thought from your head with a scowl. You should not be happy that one of the most powerful demon’s known to mankind called you cute.

(Okay, well. Maybe you were a little happy. Not that you would ever admit it.)

With a stony look, your finger wrapped around the crossbow trigger, the cool metal sending a shiver down you spine. “I’m here to kill you, Dream.”

He didn’t look fazed. “Oh? Even though we only just met?”

A snarl ripped itself out of your throat, fury slowly beginning to claw up your insides. Why did he sound so calm? Didn’t he understand that he was about to die to your hand?

“That doesn’t matter,” you said bluntly, trying to ignore your heart ramming away at your ribcage. “You’re a monster that needs to be disposed of.”

He hummed, absentmindedly picking at his nail. “That’s bold of you to say.” His tone was dull and interested, and his eyes seemed to shine even brighter thanks the green glow surrounding his head. “I can’t remember the last time a demon hunter has ever been so upfront with me.”

The string tying your restraint together snapped. That was it. How could he be so nonchalant? So apathetic? Didn’t he care?

“You’ve killed so many people,” you spat, “taken so many innocent lives, and for what?” You narrowed your eyes, nothing but pure disgust running through your veins as you dug the tip of your crossbow into the soft flesh of his neck. “What reason do I have to stop myself from ending your life right here, right now?”

Below you, Dream only stared blankly at you, his eyebrows raised. Then, he let out a sigh, wrapping a hand around the stock of your crossbow. Panic shot through you as he pulled it away from his throat with ease, his fingers curling around the polished wood. “First of all,” he said lowly, “that little thing isn’t going to do anything.”

In a blink of an eye, you heard the snapping of metal and wood, your gaze going wide. He shot you a cocky grin. “Not anymore.”

You leapt back, gritting you teeth and tossing your now useless crossbow onto the earth beside you. Your hand moved in a blur as you reached down and pulled out your pistol from its holster, pointing it toward him. “Each and every one of these bullets is soaked in holy water,” you shouted, your hand cocking back the safety. “Don’t think I won’t shoot.”

Dream rolled over onto his stomach, his grin widening as he rested his chin on his hand. “Tell me,” he drawled, tilting his head, “do you really think you scare me?”

You ignored the shaking of your fingers. “I—I can and will shoot you.”

He laughed, an uncomfortable warmth wrapping around your gut. “Please, darling—I’ve been alive for longer than you can even fathom. As if you’d be the first to pin me down, let alone try to shoot me.” His eyes flashed crimson, and you felt your stomach drop. “I know all your hunter tricks and tactics, and believe me when I say they won’t work.”

Suddenly, he floated up off the ground, not changing his position whatsoever. In only a matter of seconds, he was hovering above you, blinking down at your shocked expression with mirth glimmering in his scarlet gaze. 

Of course he could levitate—what were you expecting?

“Second,” he said, “I did a lot of those things a long time ago, especially in human years. How long has it been?” He tapped his chin. “Probably centuries by now, which is like forever for you guys.”

You scowled at him, your pistol still pointed at him. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t caused any chaos recently.”

“That’s true!” he chirped, snapping his fingers. “But my more recent activities have been much more... tame in comparison to my golden years, don’t you think?”

As much as you wanted to shoot him right here and now, you also wanted to punch him in the face before you did. “Lives are lives, Dream!” you shouted. “Any more or less lost doesn’t make you any more redeemable.”

A chuckle slipped from his lips, flipping onto his back as he continued to hover in the cool, night air. “Oh, you humans and your morality. How entertaining you all are.”

There was only one word running through your mind as you glared at him, your jaw clenching tight as your rage only multiplied inside you. Monster, monster, monster.

His eyelids fluttered shut as he allowed himself to drift a fraction lower toward you. “Well, I do believe I should ask—who’s to say that I was the one who killed those people, anyways?”

Your heart stopped in your chest. “...what are you talking about?”

He peeked an eye open at you. “It’s not like I flew down from the sky and shot them all with a rifle, and it’s not like I just snapped my fingers and everyone dropped dead.” He hummed at the thought. “Just what kind of person do you take me for?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your toes curling in your boots. “Stop distracting me—you’re dodging the question.”

“On the contrary,” he shot back without missing a beat, “I’d argue that you’re dodging mine, pet.” You could hear the laughter threatening to bubble up his throat as he spoke. “Do you really think I was the one purely responsible for all that destruction?”

You tried to ignore the slight tremble of your hands. “A-Aren’t you?” you stammered out. “You’ve started wars, detonated massive bombs, pushed people to their absolute limits. That stuff’s all your fault.” You gulped. “...isn’t it?”

For a second, he simply stared at you. Then, he burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh, how naïve you are, pet. Just what were you taught?” As he clutched his chest, he sunk a little lower toward you. “I didn’t fight on those battlefields. I didn’t press the red button. I didn’t kick men and women to the ground, pointing guns in their faces. But do you know who did?”

The cogs in your head began to turn as you wracked your mind over his words. Then, a wave of understanding slammed into you, and you lowered your pistol, your arm going limp at your side.

He couldn’t possibly mean...

“Ding, ding, ding! You guessed it.” His lips curled up into a delighted smirk. “Humanity did.”

Your eyes widened in horror. Oh, no.

The manic look in his eyes only grew. “Oh, yes.” He cackled at the look on your face, pointing at you. “I didn’t even have to lift a finger for you to all walk straight into your own demise! How pathetic is that?”

You took a shaky step back, your pistol dropping to the ground. “B-B—”

“B-B-B-But what?” he said mockingly, mimicking you in a high-pitched tone. “Did they tell you that I’m the big, bad wolf and that humanity is Little Red? Because they lied, pet. They lied to you.” He pointed his fingers together to form an X, tilting his head at you. “I’ll have you know that I’m not a liar. A trickster, perhaps. But a liar?” He narrowed his eyes. “Never.”

He bent down where he hovered in the air, waggling a finger in your face. “The truth is, darling, is that I didn’t do anything. I just stood in the room and watched. I might have pointed out that that one little duke was in perfect view, or that that one city only had so many people living in it, but I never took any lives myself.” He lightly tapped your nose, and you shrunk back as he crooned, “Humanity did all that, pet. They’re the real monsters to blame here.”

You wanted to sink to your knees and melt into a puddle on the ground. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Your mentor told you that Dream killed all those people—that he was the one to stab the knife in and twist it while pulling it out. She wouldn’t lie to you, never in a million years.

You wanted to believe him, you really did. But there was something about the freckles scattered across Dream’s face and the way the moonlight bounced off his eyes that made you realize.

He was telling the truth.

A few moments passed in silence as you stared long and hard down at your feet. You could feel Dream’s gaze boring into your figure, eyeing you up and down as you struggled to steady the beating of your heart. You half-expected him to mock you even more, but to your surprise, he didn’t. Maybe he was more human than you thought.

“Why?” you finally whispered after god knows how long.

When you were met with silence, you raised your eyes to meet his once more. “Why did you do it?” you said, louder this time. “Why did you interact with us at all if you wouldn’t even get your own hands dirty? If you knew it would only end like this?”

His eyes flashed, the tiniest hint of carmine swirling in their murky depths. “Isn’t the answer obvious, pet?” He flashed you a wicked grin. “I was bored.”

You blinked, realization slowly setting in. “Bored? Bored?” You were about to lose it, now. “You did all that just because you were bored?”

He shrugged. “Sure did. Chaos makes the world so much more interesting, don’t you think? If only good things happened, you would be bored, too.”

Your stomach churned with disgust. “You’re twisted.”

His smile only widened. “At least I’m having fun.”

All you could do was stare at him in defeat. This wasn’t right. There were more ways to have fun than to toy with humanity’s psyche and drive them to end people’s lives, even for a demon like him. There had to be something you could do. For some inexplicable reason you couldn’t bring yourself to name, a part of you almost wanted to help him.

I must be losing my mind, you thought. What person in their right mind would try to save a demon, let alone the most powerful one of them all?

You, apparently.

The cogs in your head began to churn, your mind bustling as it tried to come up with some alternative, no matter how silly. There had to be something he could do that wasn’t just this.

That was when it hit you.

“Why,” you started slowly, your voice coming out shaky and unsure, “don’t you have fun in a way that doesn’t destroy things... but creates them?”

He blinked lazily at you. “Hm?”

You swallowed, raising your chin. “You—you can have chaos, but it doesn’t need to be destructive.”

He raised his brows. “It doesn’t?”

Your gaze hardened. “Not at all.”

Just then, a flash of memory shot through your skull, and you gasped. “Say, Dream,” you began, “do you—do you know how the Greeks thought the universe came to be?”

You didn’t wait for him to answer. “First,” you said, “there was chaos. And from chaos, life was born. Gods and goddesses, plants and animals.”

“And humans,” he added.

You nodded. “And humans—like me.” You pressed a hand to your chest. “See? Chaos can create things. It doesn’t have to be so full of death and terror.”

While his expression was bemused, there was something sad about it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “You do realize that that’s just a story that you human made up?” he hummed. “How the universe came to be is far more different.”

You blinked. “You were alive for that?”

He sent you a blank smile, the look in his eyes betraying nothing. “Maybe, maybe not.” Waving his hand, he flipped over onto his back, floating a fraction higher than before. “Point is, that kind of chaos probably doesn’t exist.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your side. “But it could,” you whispered.

He paused, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “What?”

You dug your heel into the ground, raising your voice. “It could! You don’t know that it doesn’t.” You took a step toward him, throwing your arms out. “Isn’t that fun? Isn’t that exciting? That there’s a whole other form of chaos you’ve never discovered before?!”

Your shout rang out into the quiet forest as Dream stared at you, his lips parted the tiniest bit. Rather than looking amused or arrogant, he almost looked... raw. Real. This might just the most vulnerable look you’d gotten of him all night.

Then, he burst into laughter.

Lowering your arms, you huffed at him, trying and failing to ignore the warmth blossoming between your lungs as you took in his wheezing face. “W-What?”

“Oh,” he gasped between peals of laughter, “what a treat you are, pet.”

Heat flashed across your cheeks as he wiped away a tear from his eye, his chuckles slowly dying down. His laugh should not sound as attractive as it was—he should not be as attractive as he was.

“Tell you what,” he said as he caught his breath once more, sending you a devilish grin. “If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you my real one.”

You stared at him for a moment, then your jaw dropped. “What?”

He stared at you, his emerald eyes glowing in the dim light. “You heard me.”

For a few seconds, you simply gaped, your brain still struggling to process his words. “But... but why?” you finally blurted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

He hummed at you, flipping upside down. “What about it doesn’t make sense? It seems like a fair trade to me.”

Sputtering, you threw your hands into the air. “A demon’s true name is the source of their power! By handing it over to me, you’re basically putting your life in my hands—in a demon hunter’s hands.” Your face blanched at the mere thought. “A human name and demon name aren’t even remotely comparable.”

He blinked at you, slow and lazy. “I know.”

You didn’t understand—you couldn’t understand. “Then why are you doing this?”

He dipped his down toward you, his face hovering mere inches away from yours. “Isn’t it obvious?” he murmured. “You’re interesting. And rather cute, I suppose.”

You back-pedaled, your eyes wide as you stammered, “I-I could kill you if you told me your real name.”

He hummed, tucking his hand under his chin. “Perhaps, I suppose.” His lips curled upward. “But you won’t.”

Your hand squeezed around nothing. “You don’t know that.”

He chuckled again, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Oh, yes I do, pet. Don’t act as though I can’t see right through you. I know you’re too wishy-washy to kill me off just like that.”

He tilted his head at you, his gaze brimming with mischief.  “That’s the thing about humans—you’re all so greedy. You all want something you don’t have, something that fuels you to acquire more. It might be power, or fame, or fortune, or love. It’s quite pathetic, really. But curiosity?”

Lowering himself, he pushed himself up until he was standing flat on the ground again, his hands sliding into his pockets. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and your mouth went dry. “Why, curiosity is your greatest flaw of all. You humans always want to know more, and I know that you want to know what I do next, whether you’re aware of it or not.”

You felt like your blood was going to tear right out of your veins. You hated how right he was, how well he seemed to know you. “You’re insane,” you said.

His smile was lazy and wide as he took a single step toward you. “Probably. But I’ve been alive for ages now, and you might be the most fun thing I’ve seen in millennia. I want to know your name, pet.”

This was crazy in every sense of the word. Any other demon wouldn’t even dare utter their true name aloud, even to themselves, yet here Dream was, bargaining his for yours.

You’d be an idiot not to tell him your name, now.

Swallowing, you didn’t dare look away from his piercing eyes. “It—my name is [Y/N].”

His lips parted in awe, and he stepped toward you once more. “[Y/N],” he repeated, slowly. Carefully, like a wolf stalking its prey. “Fascinating name. Haven’t met too many of those in my lifetime, shocking as it may be.” He paused for a moment, and you could have sworn his smile looked different. “It’s pretty.”

A rush of heat went shooting down your spine, your stomach doing a flip. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glared at him. “Well, stop dawdling! What’s your real name, Dream?”

For a long, excruciatingly slow minute, he only stared at you, scanning every inch of your face. You could feel anxiety begin to crawl up your throat as he did nothing more than watch the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

All of a sudden, he was standing in front of you, his hand tucked underneath your chin and lifting it upward. You barely had the chance to gasp before you felt a soft warmth pressing against your lips, light as a feather and tasting like ash and smoke.

Before you could even register what had just happened, he was gone.

You whirled, your face growing astronomically hot. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears again, but for an entirely different reason this time. You raised your hand to touch your lips while your cheeks burned furiously.

Did he just... kiss me?

Just then, a whisper ran along the shell of your ear, so soft that you almost missed it.

“My name is Clay.”

[confessionsof-a-writing-freak]

I Don't Wanna Be a Memory

Summary:

“Well, I’m not just your boss!”, Steve hears himself say, “I’m not just your boss. I’m also an omega. And I want you to tell me what to do. Your voice is like it’s permanently in alpha command, and I want you to fucking command me! Because I’m not just your boss. I’m not just an omega. I’m your fucking omega! And I can’t stand you saying my name like you’re seconds away from telling me to get down on my knees because you never do!

And it isn’t your fault! It’s not! You don’t want me anymore, and that’s fine, but my omega hasn’t forgotten, and my heart won’t forgive you for not loving me anymore. So stop. Stop saying my name like you still want me. Because every time you do, I feel like you’ve come back to me, but you haven’t- you won’t! And it’s killing me, Buck.”

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33385405

Rating: Explicit

Ship: James 'Bucky' Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional tags: A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha bucky!, Omega Steve!

Bucky’s voice is the single most dangerous weapon he possesses.

Not the guns, or the knives, or even the years of government-issued muscle memory in hand-to-hand combat could compare the carnage that rubbles and quakes the earth when he says Steve's name.

“Stevie,” Low and silky. Full of authority-full of alpha. But still understanding the difference in rank despite the apparent superiority in designation. Never challenging or speaking down, but fuck did it make Steve want to sink to his knees and watch Bucky fall apart due to his mouth for a change.

“Steve?”

Okay, maybe not the entire earth, but Steve’s world sure feels like it’s been turned on its axis.

“...Steve.”

The worst part of it all is Bucky has no idea. No clue. No motivation! He simply exists and speaks like that with no intention of letting his voice get all severe and appetizing for the purpose of getting Steve’s omega excited for Bucky's alpha.

It’s especially distracting during missions.

Steve’s heart races, his conscious thought nowhere to be found as he conjures up impossible scenarios involving his reformed assassin best friend and naked cuddling.

The second they boarded the Quinjet, Steve had torn the earpiece away as if it had burned him.

Can you imagine leading a team or keeping them safe when every so often your second in command asks for your position, voice rough as he asks Steve for orders?!

Can anyone really blame him for getting lost in the phantom sensations of Bucky saying his name like a secret no one else deserves to know?

He didn’t think so.

That being said, all the control he can muster in order to actually complete a mission evaporates into the wind the moment the dance between life and death comes to a close; every suppressed, shameless fantasy unleashed and unforgiving as they consume his every thought.

Steve is abruptly pulled from his most recent daydream when a cool metal hand taps the back of his wrist twice, “You with us, Steve? I’ve been calling your name for a minute now.”

Quickly, Steve straightens his back and squares his shoulders, meeting stormy grey eyes.

“Sorry, Buck. Had a lot on my mind.”, He says with more confidence than he actually has.

It’s not really a lie. He does have a lot on his mind, all the ways he can find himself face down, ass up on the other man’s bed. Drooling and crying and breathing in Buckys scent with every breath he takes.

Of course, he can’t very well say that, can he?

He was lucky the S.H.I.E.L.D issued, super soldier approved suppressants made him nearly null. He can’t fathom the level of embarrassment that would claim him if Buck- or the whole damn plane for that matter- could scent the desperation, horny inside of him.

Bucky shifts closer, grey eyes softening the tiniest bit with concern, “Is everything alright?”

No.

“Yes, of course, “ He lies, “Just thinking about battle techniques is all. Scouts honor!” Steve makes an odd, incorrect gesture as a mock salute.

Bucky allows a small huff of air Steve recognizes as his poor imitation of a chuckle. There’s a moment of fuzzy pride that nearly causes Steve to purr; happy he brought a smile to the alpha’s face before his stomach drops clear down to his toes as murmured laughter rumbles too close to a growl in Buckys chest.

“My memory may be shit, Stevie, but I know for damn sure you weren’t no boy scout.”

Aaaand there it is.

Stevie.

Steves omega stirs and preens before the captain shoves them back down. Resenting the butterflies crying out in his belly and the urge to beg Bucky to just say his name over and over and over…

“Steve?”, This time, the concern isn’t quite as subtle, “Are you sure you’re alright, pal?” Bucky takes a step closer towards the blonde, drawing out skittish blue eyes, lowering his voice in case anyone was listening.

Again, the omega clears his throat and squares his shoulders.

“Did you want to tell me something, Sargent?”

Bucky opens his mouth, defiance dancing on his tastebuds before something makes him snap it shut, offering a curt nod, “Yes, Captain.” His voice strained, everything he wants to say lodged in his throat.

“I just wanted to let you know that we should be landing in less than 15 minutes.”

Like before, Bucky opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. Choosing instead to take a seat beside his captain, slipping his arms through the provided harness. He gives Steve a pointed look, “We should probably buckle up.”

For a moment, Steve is taken back to the war. When his body was just beginning to react to the serum and the increased suppressants. (The government had taken every percussion necessary to ensure the public wouldn’t know Captain America was an omega.)

After Steve became ‘big’ and outranked Bucky in the military, the brunette never did anything but follow him into the fire. Loyal and boundless. Never questioning his strategies or actions unless it put him in direct danger. That didn’t mean he could keep himself from telling Steve what to do. He just found different ways to do it.

Suggesting tasks, like putting on seatbelts, for instance. Strapping extra weapons to his ankles before handing one to Steve and forcing it into his hands even when the blonde would roll his eyes, whispering his disapproval so only he would hear.

Never raising his voice or permitting his tone to deepen or his scent to take on that spicy, electric feel that never failed to make Steve bare his neck. Never stepping out of line. Never disrespecting or demeaning Steves title. Always in charge anyway.

Bucky doesn’t utter a single command or request, but Steve buckles up anyhow. Drinking in the small, hardly there smile that Bucky offers to the air in front of him, not even meeting Steve’s gaze. And the omega hates the happiness, the relief he feels at satisfying Bucky.

Hates that Bucky doesn’t even have to tell him what to do for him to obey. Hates that he has to obey, even though Bucky doesn’t need him to anymore.

He doesn’t need him anymore...

Bucky still hasn’t said a word when they land, but it’s not like Steve gave him much of an opportunity.

Things have been strained between them since Steve began pulling away. Avoiding Bucky’s calls and limiting their time together.

It was just easier that way. Miserable and lonely, but easier.

The moment the Quinjet is stationary, the supersoldier is up on his feet and stomping down the runway, leaving the Avengers and Bucky behind him.

He needs to breathe.

He can’t breathe!

If he didn’t know any better, he would say he was having an asthma attack. It feels like an asthma attack.

Steve’s eyes sting with unshed tears, taking large gulps of air into his lungs, and it burns!

He arrives at his door by the grace of God, not remembering entering the tower or if he passed anyone on his way.

“Jarvis. Door.” He gasps. Actual fear starting to seep into his bones.

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” The AI responds, the oversized steel doors swinging open.

Distantly, Steve hears the door shut behind him and feels himself settle against a wall. He pushes his back against the surface and tries to even out his breathing. Revisiting everything he can remember about how to resolve an asthma attack.

After several attempts, he stumbles into a somewhat consistent breathing pattern, his chest heaving at a slower rate.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose…

It’s not working!

Steve’s heartbeat only hammers against his chest and neck quicker, his breathing sharply turning back into hyperventilation.

It’s then that he realizes he isn’t having an asthma attack at all. He’s having a panic attack.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth. InthroughthenoseOutthroughthemouth.

Why isn’t this working!?

The blonde clenches his eyes shut, a sob fighting its way past trembling lips. He feels so alone. So unwanted, Unwarranted.

He thinks back to the 40s- back to him and Bucky. After the serum, during the war. Hidden behind the cover of night and an abandoned building at the far end of Base. The first time since the change, his heart felt like it would crawl its way up Steves throat and swan dive right off his tongue.

Struggling to ease the fogginess in his mind, Steve remembers strong arms wrapped around his waist. Cool metal poking his nose as he bumped Bucky’s dog tags with each of his movements, scenting warm flesh.

Bucky’s voice is rumbling demands, his voice leaving no room for argument while every word was also laced with patience and love. Scent projecting love, understanding, I’m here, you’re safe.

“In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”

He repeats the mantra until Steve’s Omega obeyed his alpha, sucking in lung fulls of oxygen and releasing it in time with Buckys orders.

The memory of bombs and gunshots lost behind the sound of Bucky’s voice.

In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.

He conjures up the memory of Buckys voice, coated in alpha command, urging him to breathe evenly. Fingers digging into Steve’s flushed skin, grounding him.

His alpha always knows what he needs...

Steve misses him.

Misses more than just the raw irrefutable attraction that got them into more trouble than it should have growing up. But he misses the rest of him too.

Misses the smirks and the long nights dreaming of what the future would bring. He misses Bucky’s laugh. God, he can hardly remember what it sounds like now.

Steve misses the way he would kiss. Gently. Chaste. Rough. Long. Kiss him in private and kiss him places that weren’t safe. On the stoop in front of their apartment, before the sun would come up and wandering eyes could catch them. Or alone in their bedroom, lips starting on his eyelids, across purple bruises, then down to his chest. Swallowing the omega’s moans and grinning into his mouth before settling beside him and chuckling deep into his ear, the last thing Steve would hear before sleep would overcome him. He misses the way Bucky would say his name like a prayer, wrap his lips around every letter like a caress, eyes sparkling with their love.

He misses knowing he’ll never be alone.

His heart thunders in his ears, chest feeling seconds away from crumbling in on itself as he thinks maybe it was easier when he believed the alpha was dead. Before he found out Bucky was alive, he mourned the man who loved him. Now, he grieves the love he’s lost. The alpha- his alpha-standing beside him without an ounce of affection or desire in his eyes.

Bucky wasn’t mourning the loss of Steve because he didn’t want Steve. Not anymore.

He clearly remembered enough. He may remember it all. However, knowing didn’t mean he had any intention of returning to what they had.

But even if every memory was gone, if the omega mattered at all, Bucky would remember him- his soul! If Steve himself were robbed of his past and they were just meeting again for the first time, he knew his soul would remember Buckys. Would want to know him all over, not needing to understand why!

The tears are falling before Steve has the chance to notice. A jagged whine barreling past his lips. All the weight of devastation and loneliness finally falling onto his shoulders.

Bucky had met him again. But he didn’t need him the same. Didn’t know his Omega; he didn’t want his heart.

Steve slumps further against the wall, blonde hair drenched in sweat, hands clawing at his chest, trying fruitlessly to manage his racing heart.

Closing his eyes, the omega summons an image of Bucky smiling reassuringly, soothing him as he tells him what to do.

In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.

Okay… okay. That’s better.

“It hurts to think of you,” The omega confesses to no one, the tears running past his chin onto his suit. But I need you, “And I can’t breathe without you.”

“In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. I’ve got you, Stevie. In and out. That’s it. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”

Steve allows himself to sink deeper into his fantasy, swearing he could actually feel Bucky's hands running down his back and through his hair.

“I’ve got you, Stevie.”

It’s the last thing Steve hears before he passes out.

***

Steve is warm.

Steve’s bed has always been too soft, even after Sam suggested a firmer mattress. While helpful, he still couldn’t manage anything better than a fitful half-sleep most nights. He knew why, but in an effort to avoid further misery, he chooses not to dwell too much on that matter.

Aside from the too-soft mattress and the alpha missing from his bed, the omega was never warm enough. He shivered and reached out for body heat too far from his reach. But…

Steve is warm...

For a moment, he swears arms are around him.

And for a moment, he doesn’t care who they belong to. Because he isn’t shivering, for once. Isn’t suffering through another cold sweat, and the omega constantly pacing within him is actually settled. He hasn’t been this comfortable since the previous century, so whoever the hell is beside him can very well stay where they are, as long as he can keep this feeling.

It’s with another breath, he feels consciousness slowly creep up on him.

He almost laughs at the thought of being comfortable in anyone else’s arms. Of course, Bucky should have been his first thought, but honestly, at this point, Bucky willingly in his bed was a cruel dream.

Bucky must be using the same blockers Steve does. His Omega can’t scent him even this close, but who else’s arms fit so perfectly around him?

It’s the closest they’ve been at all since rescuing Bucky from Hydra, and Steve hated it as much as he loved it.

He wants to go back to sleep. Wants to bask in the warmth Bucky offers and pretend they’re back in their tiny apartment in Brooklyn. Struggling to make ends meet and unplagued by the horrors of war. Hidden from the world behind wilting wallpaper, sharing sweet kisses and bruising grips.

But this isn’t 1939. Bucky doesn’t share his bed...or his affections.

He would give anything to go back. He’d give anything to have his alpha again.

“I didn’t know you still had panic attacks.”, of course, Bucky noticed he wasn’t asleep anymore.

Steve feels him shift away, the arm around his waist, already feather-light, hardly there.

The omega within him whines, not wanting him to pull away. No, he wants him to climb on top of him. To drop all of his weight onto Steve’s hopeless body, make him stay in place. Unable to move until Bucky tells him he can...

Steve clenches his eyes tightly, suppressing his every unrelenting instinct from manifesting into something that will only push Bucky further away. And he needs him. Steve needs him, even if it is killing him.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about, Buck.”, the omega remarks, his back still firmly pressed to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky may be ready to move, but Steve certainly isn’t. It’s not like the Alpha will say anything. Steve is far from perfect, despite whatever bullshit the news wants to feed the public. Steve is flawed and can be as selfish as anyone else. There are times where he permits his gaze to linger longer than it should, hands lazily pulling back when they should’ve never left his side, to begin with, or say Buckys name in the dead of night, surrounded by nothing but darkness and the sticky evidence of his spent weaknesses.

In private or in front of the alpha, Steve has toed the line of what is appropriate between friends and behavior shared between lovers.

Bucky has never reacted to any of it. Robotic and perfect all at once. His responses are exactly what they’re supposed to be, feeling false all the same.

Never contesting. Never reacting. As if Steve doesn’t ache for him.

It’s then that the confusion begins to twist at the recess of the omega’s mind.

“Why are you in my bed, Buck?” And how can I keep you here?

There’s a beat of silence, Bucky’s breath even beside Steve’s ear. It almost feels rehearsed, as if Bucky is concentrating on his breathing. Steve shakes the thought away before he can fool himself for the millionth time something is there that has proven again and again to be long ago dead.

“I was worried about you,” Bucky eventually admits, the arm just barely resting on Steve’s hip returning to its previous pressure, fingers hot and electrifying as they accidentally meet bare flesh peeking beneath Steve’s sleep shirt.

Sleep shirt?

“Did you change my clothes?” Steve says without thinking, saying anything to stop himself from moaning. He can’t remember the last time Buckys hands were this close to his body without explosions and frantic shouts playing in the background.

He turns his neck enough to meet Bucky’s clouded grey gaze.

A gasp falls from his lips instinctively, his own eyes widening on their own accord, taking in the receding blood red only just beginning to fade from the alpha’s eyes.

Just like that, Bucky is removing his arm entirely, releasing the Omega and taking all of that delicious warmth with him.

Bucky stays on the bed, though. His back resting against the headboard.

Steve just narrowly stops himself from shouting, ‘No! Stay, please!’, his heart pounding in his ears and his hands burning with the desire to reach out and drag the other man in.

Instead, he swallows his cries and urges his weary muscles into a sitting position, facing away from the former assassin.

While Steve was changed into something more comfortable than his uniform, the omega notices Bucky remains in his clunky tactical gear, down to his boots.

He had no intention of staying, Rogers. Take deep breaths, and give him an out.

He just needs to go.

The blonde is good at pretending. Well, most days anyway, he can fake a smile when the world is falling apart; he can pretend to be happy. But what he can’t seem to do anymore is pretend that he isn’t painfully in love with the man currently sitting on his bed, not a single reminisce of what they once were hanging between them.

He can’t manage a smile or a whisper of optimism when everything good has been taken from him. He knows what’s expected of him, but there are days when the sorrow is crippling, and he feels weaker than he ever did as that little guy from Brooklyn.

Clearly, no more talking is going to happen. And Steve isn’t emotionally stable enough right now to act as if he doesn’t want the alpha to bathe him in his scent, forcing the lingering panic, unwell, lonely away.

He moves to stand when,

“Rest.”

The order is sharp and certainly unintentional.

The shiver that races down Steve’s spine is violent, and his body locks up, ready to obey.

Turning his neck again, Steve catches the profile of the alphas annoyingly handsome face. His eyes are closed, brow pinched in concentration.

Steve stands slowly, hands shaking. It’s sickening how dreadfully good that single word made him feel. Floaty and sated. His blood, always raging, rushing, and crying out, settles within him, preparing to be taken care of.

The logical part of him reminds the omega they’ve been here before. Bucky will do something so woefully familiar, he dilutes himself into thinking he’s still wanted.

It’s never the case.

Steve keeps the hope from his tone when he challenges, “Excuse me?” Waiting for another command with bated breath.

“You should probably rest, Cap,” Bucky folds his arms across his broad chest, still ignoring Steve’s previous question as well as his gaze.

Forcing a smirk that makes him want to throw up, Steve teases, “Are you avoiding my question, Sargent?”

“Steve,” Bucky objects, voice chastizing.

Something uneasy burrows into Steve’s stomach, his body rejecting the discontent emanating off Bucky's skin.

He shrugs away the urge to whine, instead offering an ingenuine chuckle, “Jeez, I’m fine. Why so serious, Buck?”

Bucky stands, eyes hard, glaring right into Steve’s soul. The blonde sucks in a harsh breath, his fingers tingling and breath shallow.

Bucky’s eyes are red.

“Why so serious? “ The alpha growls, not moving from his spot beside Steve’s bed. The distance separating them not making sense in contrast to the intimate edge heavy in the air. It would be comical if not for the current sparking the negative space.

“We’re just gonna pretend like I didn’t find you seconds from passing out less than an hour ago? Is that something casual, am I supposed to just ignore it?”

Steve’s plastic smile fades, a tired expression painting his sharp features, “Yes. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.” He sighs, scrubbing his face in frustration, “Ignore it. Like you ignore everything else, Bucky...Just go.”

“What’s tha ‘posed to mean?”

“It means I’m sorry you had to see that, but you don’t have to worry about it.”

“See what? You being irresponsible?”

The thin scrap of patience the omega has evaporates; actually, it burns the fuck up, raging as loud as Steve’s fury, “Irresponsible!?”

The anger shoots through Steve like a wildfire, his temperature rising and his hands balling into fists. If the Alpha didn’t know any better, he’d think Steve was going to punch him.

Even so, he doesn’t back down. Instead, he takes a single step towards the blonde, body tight and rigid. Voice booming when he sneers, “Yes, goddamn it! Irresponsible.”

“Fuck you, Bucky!” Steve shouts, “Who the hell are you to lecture me on being irresponsible?”

“I’m your… I’m your second in command, and if you were struggling with PTSD, you should have told me something! Instead of me following you to your rooms and basically threatening Jarvis into letting me in. You were pale, Steve. Snow White ain’t got shit on how you looked- you were nearly blue! And I’m sorry for stepping in. We can blame it on your biology, but you finally managed to relax when my alpha came forward. It’s irresponsible to let yourself get to that point when you could have come to me- or, or anyone in the avengers for help.”

“You’re sorry,” Steve scoffs, “ You’re sorry you had to help me.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, but it’s what you said, isn’t it?” The Omega is nearly in hysterics. Half sad laughs, the only thing keeping him from crying.

“Steve...”

Buckys voice is now soaked in concern, the anger lost behind wisps of worried seeping from his concealed scent. Which serves only to break Steve further.

“Stevie.” Bucky repeats, wondering if Steve was spiraling into another panic attack.

He is only two steps away from him in a second, twitching, never touching but always close.

Steve feels another shock rack his entire body. His name falling from Bucky’s lips so effortlessly. The authority he holds swallowing every syllable. The sheer force of it nearly brings the omega to his knees.

Steve's heart pounds against his chest, like his heart is trying to escape. Running both hands across his face, then over tufts of blonde hair, his hands meeting behind his neck craned up towards the sky. Praying to anyone up there with mercy that Bucky will just leave. He keeps his arms where they arm before he can do something stupid like reach out.

“Bucky, why are you so concerned about it?” Steve’s eyes are still trained to the ceiling.

Steve knows he’s playing with fire. Playing with his own emotions, but sometimes he can swear he lives for it.

Bucky hesitates, watching Steve with careful eyes. “Because…You are our Captain and my best friend. If you need help, I am going to help you.”

The finality in his tone almost sounds like an alpha command, but his words contradict any sense of attraction or desire.

Another huff, gaze and arms dropping, “I’ll be fine once you leave.” Steve counters, harsher than he intended.

But fuck if he cares. Bucky doesn’t want him. He deserves to be a little angry. If he can’t grieve him, he can at least have this!

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” He snaps, “Just leave, James.”

“James? Oh, I’m James now?”

Steve could care less if he’s hurt his feelings. He’s had enough. His heart hurts, and his head aches. He is done playing this ‘I’m okay with everything’ game.

He is not okay with this, Dammit!

His heart is broken. Shattered. Irreplaceable. And he’s just supposed to be okay with that? He’s supposed to be Bucky’s friend and make jokes and smile when he is dying inside? Crying for his alpha- for stability when he feels like his whole world has been rocked?

Well, he’s had enough. He’s behaved for 2 years. He’s done!

Clenching blue eyes shut, Steve feels every carefully constructed wall of deception crumple at their feet.

“I don’t have time for this. Just leave so that I can breathe! I can’t breathe with you here!”

“Stevie…”

“Please,” the omega whimpers, all the fight leaving his body, long pale fingers running through sleep tousled hair, pulling at the roots, “Just stop.”

“Stop what? I can’t stop doing something if I don’t know what it is I’m doing!”

It’s Bucky’s turn to be panicked. In two strides, he’s in front of Steve, feeling the alarm creep up his chest, a flash of something sharpening eerie grey.

“Steve! Answer m-” Bucky lifts his hands as if to reach out for the other man but catches himself before metal could find flesh, “Will you tell me what I am doing wrong?”

Steve wants to cry and scream and rip that stupid mental arm out of its socket just so he can slap Bucky with it.

“Stop!” He repeats desperately, “Just stop! Stop saying my name! Stop talking to me like-like…”

“Like what!?”

Taking a calming breath, Steve forces himself to meet the alpha’s eyes, “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to give you orders and never receive a protest in return?”

There’s a beat of silence accompanied by a blank expression. Steves heart shouting in his chest.

“...What?”

Steve continues, “Telling you what to do and how to do it. At least before you would fight me, yell at me. Make it easier to breathe.”

“Steve, what the fuck are you talkin’ about? You’re my boss. I’m s’posed ta take orders from ya.” Steve just about weeps when the Brooklyn accent begins to peek through, just as it usually does when Bucky is confused.

“Well, I’m not just your boss!”, Steve hears himself say, “I’m not just your boss. I’m also an omega. And I want you to tell me what to do. Your voice is like it’s permanently in alpha command, and I want you to fucking command me! Because I’m not just your boss. I’m not just an omega. I’m your fucking omega! And I can’t stand you saying my name like your seconds away from telling me to get down on my knees because you never do! And it isn’t your fault! It’s not! You don’t want me anymore, and that’s fine, but my omega hasn’t forgotten, and my heart won’t forgive you for not loving me anymore. So stop. Stop saying my name like you still want me. Because every time you do, for precisely one second, I feel like you’ve come back to me, but you haven’t- you won’t! And it’s killing me, Buck.”

Steve’s eyes are misted with tears, his chest heaving and skin flushed with embarrassment and shame, “Please… Just don’t say my name, or I’m just gonna break.”

The words pour from his lips, and he wants to disappear. He wishes the ground would just swallow him whole and save him from Bucky’s response.

Steve trembles beneath stormy grey, choosing instead to watch the ground. His omega whining and clawing at the back of his mind.

“I can’t do this anymore, Bucky.” He murmurs, waiting for the outrage or worse; the indifference-the clunk of footsteps walking away from the mess he’s made. The life they had. The man he no longer loves.

Steve hasn’t found his eyes again. Won’t move his head. He doesn’t care how submissive it makes him look because he’s spent most of his life searching for steel grey eyes in crowds and across rooms. Seeking them out in the dark, the only beacon of light he would see most days. And now… Now those eyes that kept him so safe when the world was crumbling around them made him feel like winter on a summer day, cold and alone, only seconds from melting into nothing.

He’s not sure how much time passes without a word between them. He waits another moment before surrendering a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, shaking his head and turning to leave.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he couldn’t stay here.

Like lightning, Bucky’s right hand snaps forward, catching the omega’s wrist before he can make it far, and just like electricity, a jolt of fire scorches where their skin meets.

As one would an old friend, Steve invites the sensation to consume him, feeling every nerve respond to Bucky, it’s like he was brought back to life, and he wants nothing more than to cry because he knows it won’t last. He knows as soon as the alpha lets go, he’ll return to reality as only half a man. Something-someone always missing from him.

“Steve.”, his breath hitches, and his hands shake. A whisper of a scent he’s all but forgotten seeps into the room, but it’s gone before Steve can determine if it’s only a memory.

Steve’s name rolls off of Bucky’s tongue too easily. Too pretty. Too dark. Too much!

Jesus!

Hadn’t he been clear enough the first fucking time? How else exactly was he supposed to phrase it; ‘Don’t say my name, or I’ll break from how horny it makes me?’

“Steve,” The alpha repeats.

Steve feels another pang of electricity shoot to his fingertips, itching with the need to just touch, “Bucky, I think you should leave.”

He doesn’t want him to. But when was the last time Steve got what he wanted.

“Now,” He adds after another second passes. Bucky's feet were firmly placed on the ground, not a single muscle prepared to even twitch.

The room is blanketed in heavy silence before, “No.”

Steve feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. His lips part in surprise, brow furrowed as his heart begins to pick up the pace.

“Excuse me?”

“I hate that I can’t scent you,” The alpha announces, talking slow, calculated steps forward, eradicating any space brave enough to separate them,

“I hate that I can’t tell where you are during missions.” Suddenly Bucky’s grip loosens, yet it doesn’t move far. He runs his hand up Steve’s forearm, fingertips dragging across perfect porcelain skin, not stopping until the palm of his flesh hand rests on Steve’s neck.

“I picture what it would feel like to sink my teeth into your neck and keep you there, with my fangs in your flesh, drawing blood from your skin and moans from your lips. I dream of you whimpering, “ He whispers harshly, eyes trained to Steve’s neck.

The omega’s eyes flutter closed, lips trembling around the alpha’s name, “Bucky,”

Ignoring the blonde, the other man continues, not quite done yet, “I defend those thoughts by saying to myself, it’s all so that I can feel you. So I can feel where you are when we’re in the field. So I won’t worry as much, won’t get distracted. But I know it’s just half of it. I know I want to tell you to take those damn blockers off. To wash it away, or let me lick it away with my tongue-whichever came first.”

“I hate that I want to fall asleep with you curled above my chest because you’ll be warmer that way. And for whatever reason, I remember you always being cold before bed. I want to demand you buckle up and wear extra layers. I want you to fight me a little. I want you to tell me to shut up but get all soft when I give you a hard look. Like, you are now, with my chest touching yours, hands at your neck and waist. Your heart stuttering against me. I want you to tease me because you want me to get annoyed so that I tell you to shut your mouth and put it to good use. I hate that I want to do all these things, but I can’t. Because you don’t want me to...”

Blue pop open, held hostage by grey. Bucky is everywhere. His face is so close Steve can feel every breath the alpha takes fan over his eyelashes. His eyes tracking over the curve of pink lips and soft skin. Left arm curled around Steve’s waist, metal grip unmoving. His other hand still firmly placed over his scent gland, Bucky’s long fingers spread over the column of flesh, thumb running back and forth along the length of it, causing goosebumps to follow his trail of fire.

Steve moans at the sensation, baring his neck so Bucky has the access he would need. His legs nearly giving out beneath him, but the arm at his waist won’t let him fall.

“Are you telling me that you want me to?” Bucky presses. His voice is sharp and promising. The hand around Steve’s neck, a light pressure the omega finds himself pushing into.

“Steve! Look at me. Look at me, omega.”

The blonde hadn’t noticed his eyes fluttering shut again, the sensation of being held, of having so much alpha- his alpha right there in front of him. Soaking him in his scent. Not a true claim or even a scent mark, but this is more than he ever thought he would ever get again.

Bucky’s words have barely registered for the omega; he lost the ability to comprehend English the instant Buckys hands found his body. But he reacts to the order, all the same, seeing the steely, beautiful grey (beginning to tint red again) he has known since he was a boy.

Slowly, so slowly, Steve begins to piece together the things Bucky has confessed, his eyes once more welling with tears.

Patiently, Bucky waits for the understanding to reflect in sapphire eyes, speaking only when he knows the omega can now retain information.

“Are you telling me you want me to touch you, Stevie?” Bucky murmurs, staring at Steve’s bottom lip.

“Yes,” He breathes, just barely audible without an ounce of hesitation.

The next thing Steve knew, Bucky had him against a wall. His nose buried in his neck and his hands rounding his ass, using his shoulders to pin Steve to the wall and lift his legs until the omega joined the program and wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist. Bucky’s hardening cock pushing into his hip.

“Oh shit, Buck!”

“ I have to say your name,” Bucky growls, grinding into his omega.

“As much as I can, even if it doesn’t work in the conversation, because it’s the closest I can get you in my mouth. It tastes like heaven, and memories I can’t decipher are real or just fantasy they- Oh, fuck baby. Yeah, Stevie- They don’t compare to this- Keep moving, just like that, babydoll.”

Steve ruts against Buckys friction, his eyes closed tightly, whatever was left of their blockers bleeding out, replacing the neutral aroma in the room with their combined scents, desperation, and slick.

“God, Bucky. I missed you so much. I’ve been so alone.”

Buckys mouth finds Steve’s trembling lips, nothing subtle or slow about his movements. The alpha’s tongue swallows the moans tumbling past Steve’s lips. Hands gripping his waist tighter.

The sun bursts behind their eyes. Blood rushing and hearts bumping to twice their regular speed. For different people, people who aren’t Steve and Bucky, a first kiss after so long should probably be slow and tentative, something soft and building. But they aren’t different people. They are too broken and too powerful and undeniably deserving people who have had nothing to count on besides one another their entire conscious lives. To entertain even a second of not indulging in hard, fast, desperate supersedes unthinkable and settles somewhere over cruel.

“Never again, Stevie. I ain’t leaving you alone” another thrust, “Ever, “ another bruising kiss, “Again.”

Bucky’s cock strains against his uniform, desperate for Steve’s hole. Steve is a withering whimpering mess, drunk on Buckys scent and high on all the delicious friction causing his weeping cunt to flutter, uncomfortably empty.

After several more minutes of making out, Bucky moves them back to the bed, lying Steve out on the mattress. He only has a fraction of a second to admire the work of art that is Steve Rogers sprawled out and waiting to be fucked when Steve’s hands are at his neck, pulling him back in.

His lips move against the alpha’s sloppily, sucking on his bottom lip until the ex-assassin growls impatiently, searching for his mate’s tongue. His mate…

His mate. Steve thinks he may cry as the sheer relief almost painfully washes over him. All of the uncertainty and shame of being unwanted melts away, and all that surrounds him is the vibrating want, mine, love, love, love from the man above him, trailing scorching hot kisses down his neck.

“I wanna be ‘side you, baby. Please, Steve. Let me, ugh, please, babydoll. Can I-”

“Yes!” steve interrupts, “Yes, Alpha, you never have to ask! I’ll do whatever you ask, oh just touch me, Bucky, alpha, my alpha, touch me-”

“Shh, “ Bucky chuckles, stopping the omega’s rambling. He runs his flesh hand through disheveled blonde hair, dragging his nails through Steve’s scalp and marveling at the hiss the omega releases, “I’ve got you, Stevie. All I needed was a lil consent, then all bets are off, aren’t they? ‘Cause you’re mine now, aren’t you, baby?”

“Always have been, jerk. I never stopped.”

“Good. Now, stop touching me.”

With a whimper, Steve can’t stop his hands from frantically clawing every inch of Bucky he can access.

“Now, babydoll, don’t you wanna be good for me?”

Still clutching one hand around Bucky's thick, muscular biceps, the other pulling at the strands of dark brown hair helplessly, “I can be good,” the omega babbles, “I’ll be good, Alpha. So good, I can be good, so so good. Please-”

“ Then listen to what I am telling you. I won’t repeat myself again, Steve. It’s my turn now. I wanna get my mouth on you, and I can’t do that if you keep pullin’ me back up to kiss. So stop touching.”

The moan that stutters past Steve’s lips would be embarrassing if not for how fucking fantastic it feels for Bucky’s alpha command to slam into him. Paralyzing him in place. Hands falling unceremoniously at his sides.

Crystal blues brimming with tears, he feels safe for the first time since coming out of the ice- he feels familiar. Not somewhere foreign with no understanding of anything besides, fight this, kill that. This is different. This is them. This is intimacy- their intimacy.

There’s trust swimming within the negative spaces Bucky extends, and he knows, to his core, he can let go. Steve surrenders all his false smiles and exhausting positivity. This is home. Bucky is home. He doesn’t have to put up a front because his alpha has it handled.

Steve isn’t Captain America or some beacon of hope. He’s just Steve, Stevie. Bucky's Omega.

He’s unsure how much time passes or where it went, to begin with, but his body sinks deeper into his mattress, feeling entirely boneless.

“You okay, baby?” Bucky’s husky voice breaks through the fog, “I lost you for a second there.”

Steve feels himself come back, callused hands running through damp blonde hair.

“Mmm,” he hums.

“You spaced a little, Stevie. You’re so beautiful when you get all soft for me. But you’re back now, aren’t you? Look at you. So perfect. Pretty, perfect omega-mine. Kept your hands at your side the whole time too. Such a good boy. You’re gonna keep your hands right where they are, Stevie. Don’t you move a fucking inch. I’m going to lick you open now, babydoll. And you’re gonna come on my tongue as many times as I want you to. Because I’ve gone 70 years without you, and I’m goddamned starved” Bucky’s voice goes from soft praise to near feral growls. His voice sending nothing but jolts of electricity down Steve’s spine, another wave of slick slipping down his thighs.

Before the ‘please’ has the opportunity to touch Steve's mouth, Bucky's hot, slick tongue finds his pulse point, just mere inches from his mating gland.

“Bucky!”

“I want this off!”, The ex-assassin grunts, in one swift move yanking the crisp white shirt from Steve's chest.

“Oh!”

Bucky backs up to lean on his knees, eyes tracking over pinkening skin. Steve’s own gaze glides over now exposed skin. Steve tries to finger out when he removed his clothes but falls short.

After so long without Buckys tenderly harsh commands, falling into space came a little easier than he would have thought. Overwhelmed by the unanticipated satisfaction.

“Open your eyes.”

When had Steve closed his eyes again?

“There you are, dolly. Keep those pretty eyes on me, okay? Always on me, baby.”

Rough, mouthwateringly calloused hands find the waistband of Steve’s pants and yank down in one fluid motion.

The blonde hisses for a moment at the sudden cold air biting his skin, but it only lasts a moment before he’s screaming.

“Fuck!” Steve throws his head back in favor of making sounds even a prostitute would blush at.

One moment Bucky’s on his knees, eyes predatory and sinful, calculating all the things he could do to the man shivering beneath his gaze, the next finds him throat deep, swallowing down Steve’s sweet omega cock, slurping up his precum and getting high off the scent of slick so close to his nose.

Steve can’t breathe.

God! It’s too much. It’s so good. It’s too good!

Steve can feel the familiar pull of an orgasm tugging inside of him. The corners of his closed vision whitening out around the black, lacking the energy to even feel embarrassed by how quickly he’s reached his pinnacle.

Pulling off agonizingly slow, Bucky lets his tongue harshly lick along Steve’s little shaft and twirl over his tip, remembering- fucking remembering! All the sounds and glazed looks elicited from the man below him in the past.

Grey eyes flick up hungrily, ravenous for a look into perfect crystal eyes; he can remember the glazed debauched expression that could devour Steve’s pupils, but it’s not enough!

He wants the real thing.

He wants something tangible and alive in his hands he can never again confuse with desire. Something he’s sure happened, a gift Steve is willingly offering instead of a snarled half-memory he can’t allow himself to believe.

“I-ugh! I’m gonna-“Steve stutters, toes curling and knees bending, framing Bucky's face between his thighs. His hands twitch beside him, but he doesn’t dare move them.

“Oh!”

It should have been a cry of ecstasy.

Should have been the Yellow River Flood; relentless and relieving. No survivors.

Instead, Steve is left with his chest heaving violently. Gasping for air just as he did when he was small.

The omega hears Bucky tutting before he manages to pry his eyes open. Immediately recognizing his mistake before the words fall from cum slick lips.

“Oh, baby. You were doing so good.”

“Nno! Buck, please!”

“Shhh, What did I say, dolly?” Bucky replaces his mouth with one strong hand, lazily jerking at Steve’s straining cock.

He’s smirking when Steve hisses beneath him and hums in approval when his hands stay at his sides.

“F-Faster! Please, Buck! Goddamn it, stop teasing’ me.”

“What did I say, Stevie?” Bucky repeats sharply. His movements slowing further.

Steve’s omega cries.

“You wanna cum, baby doll? “

“Yes!”

“Then what do you have to do?“

Steve’s mind has gone to mush. He thrusts his hips up, chasing after Bucky's friction. Hands struggling against the bedsheets.

“Still, omega!”

Bucky's voice is rough as sandpaper, sounding as on edge as Steve feels. A firm metal hand presses into the omega’s hip holding him in place.

“Be good, Stevie.” The alpha asserts firmly, scent growing muskier with every heavenly noise gasped and groaned from Steve’s sinful lips.

“If you wanna cum, what is it you have to do?”

Bucky rubs a metal thumb soothingly over a sinfully sharp hip bone before trailing his fingers over Steve’s quivering thigh.

Grey eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, “Fuck, baby, you’re so soft. C’mon, don’t you want me to touch you?”

“Yes! Please, fuckin touch me, you jerk!”

Chuckling darkly to himself, Bucky watches Steve with bated breath, and all at once, he feels like his mind had never left. Like an addict, he was never over his addiction; he just forgot how good it was. And like the degenerate addict he apparently was, he sucks in deep breaths, sucking in as much of Steve’s aroused scent that his lungs can handle.

All it took was one hit of Steve- his omega- and he had fallen into himself, more of who he was than any memory had offered.

Steve is his clarity and his habit. The one thing that will always bring him back because Steve is home.

And he’s gonna make him feel good. He’s gonna make up for all he put his omega through, and he’s gonna enjoy every second of it.

Every moan, every shiver, every cry. He’s gonna hold him and bruise him because Steve is his, and that’s how the omega likes it. Bucky’s omega. Bucky's Sweetheart. Bucky’s mate.

The ex-assassin lets his fingers trail lower, his other hand still just barely moving over Steve’s pulsing cock.

The first touch of cool metal meeting Steve’s hole causes the blonde to nearly jump off the bed.

“Buck!”

Steve thinks he’s gonna die.

He feels every cell in his body vibrating with a hot, hopeless sensation. Slick pours out of him the second Bucky’s teasing, perfect, godforsaken pinky circles Steve’s core. His lungs and eyes are burning, nearly out of breath, and only capable of volunteering a broken sob when that fucking pinky just barely pushes in.

“Please,” he whispers jaggedly.

He’ll be good for bucky. He’ll keep his hands at his side. He’ll do what he says even without the command, the fogginess of his brain settling deep enough that any request will register as a command anyway.

That’s just how Steve is wired.

Designed to submit to Buck’s direction.

He knows what Bucky wants, but to physically pry his eyes open at that moment was easier said than done. He struggled to determine whether or not he’s trying to starve off a quickly approaching orgasm or trying to chase one.

Whatever the answer, Bucky doesn’t let him reach it.

The alpha’s dark, whiskey voice sounds as wrecked as Steve feels.

“What. Do. I. Want?” Bucky growls impatiently. Another wave of slick dribbles from the omega wetting the sheets beneath them.

Think, steve! Give alpha what he wants! You can be good. I can be good…. What does he want again?

“My…ugh! M-My eyes.”

Finally, fucking finally, Bucky pushes a finger into Steve’s hole. Fast and absolutely delicious.

Just when he thought Bucky would stop playing games, he realizes the ringing in his ears is replaced by the alpha tutting above him.

“Very close, baby, but not quite.”, Buckys finger starts to draw out slowly; what little fullness Steve has is threatened, and the distressed mewl Steve makes in protest causes the alpha to chuckle darkly.

“P-pretty! Keep my pretty eyes on you! Only on you!” his eyes snap open frenzied, finding a swirl of grey and red zeroed in on him.

In a millisecond, Steve has two metal fingers thrusting into his hole. His back arches on the mattress, fingers nearly numb as they grip the sheets tighter, but his eyes don’t close again.

“That’s right, baby. Only on me.”

“Oh! Yes!”

“Fuck! You’re so tight, Stevie.”, Bucky groans, lowering himself as to mouth along Steve’s jaw, nipping his skin between tentative licks.

“Pl-Ease! Oh, yes... Please, Buck.”

“Please what, Stevie? Use your words.”

Steve’s mind is a simple stream of 3 thoughts, Touch me. Fuck me. Love me!; all of which he can only vocalize as, “Oh please, please. Bucky!”

Working a third finger along with the other two, Bucky hisses with Steve at the stretch his hole gives.

So fucking tight, the alpha thinks to himself, I don’t know how I’ll survive it, but I’m gonna fuck this omega so gooood.

“Words, Steve. Or I’ll start thinking you don’t want me t’touch ya at’all. Huh, maybe I should stop...”

“No! God, Buck, don’t stop, don’t ever stop!”

“Then tell me what you want. What a’you begging for, Doll?” Bucky trails the tips of his fingers over Steve’s ribs, rounding at his back, “is it my fingers? Sliding through all your slick? Or is it my mouth?”

“Yes!”

Bucky chuckles,” That’s not really an answer, Stevie.” His voice gets darker each time he says the omegas name like he knows. Actually, the bastard does know! He knows exactly what he’s doing.

The prospect of teasing seems to pull him just the tiniest bit to the side of coherent, a snarky remark falling from his lips as easily as the desperate pleas had moments before.

“You havin’ fun, Buck?” Steve pants, “Seems like you’re having a little too much fun.”

“Aw no, baby. I’m having the exact right amount of fun. Aren’t we?”

“ ‘We’ are a lotta peop-le!! Oh shit!” pushing his fingers in deeper, Bucky just brushes against Steve’s prostate. A sinister and smug smile curling his lips upward.

“Words, Stevie. Tell me what you want. And I’ll give it to you, omegamine. Just tell me.”

Steve’s chest flushes more as the words tingle on his tongue. Bucky's nearly feral tone betrays his suave and calm demeanor.

He’s just as desperate to be buried deep in Steve’s hole as Steve is to have him there.

Bucky’s fingers push more firmly against Steve’s prostate, and the omega nearly sees stars.

“Sing for me” Almost like an echo, Steve hears Buckys words like gospel.

It’s a command he’s most familiar with. He knows just what ‘ song’ Bucky wants ….

“Daddy!” Steve hisses around a fourth finger. The words punching out of him before he could stop them.

“ I wondered if that was just fantasy,” the alpha mumbles. Eyes darkening a rich crimson. An ever-present growl rumbling in his chest.

Bucky leans over, letting his fingers get even deeper, dragging against Steve’s special spot with every new thrust. With red eyes and diminishing control, the alpha drinks in every pant and whine that drips past kiss-bruised lips and bouncing off the walls of Steve’s room.

Bucky drops his nose into Steve’s scent gland, swiping his tongue over the swelling tissue for a better taste.

“You smell so fucking good, baby. Like mate.”

“Buck…” Steve gasps, feeling overwhelmed. Any moans he could possibly wish to suppress are yanked from his chest with every move the alpha makes. Sounds too rowdy even for porn echoing in his small dark room.

Bucky can’t get enough of it, stuttering an accidental thrust into Steve’s hip when the omega whines in a delightfully sweet way, the scent of slick and alluring sounds steve makes nearly choking him.

Fuck, I hope Tony has these rooms soundproofed. Steve uses his last brain cell to think.

Bucky's metal fingers continue to work him open, preparing him for his big alpha cock fast and rough and exactly how he likes it, but his other hand still moves sluggishly over Steve’s, slowly purpling prick. Tightening and stopping entirely every so often as to starve off Steve’s orgasm.

“Bucky, please!”

Fuck, Bucky thinks, I hope everybody can hear him, fuckin; hear us,

The blonde knows all he has to do is tell Bucky ‘Fuck me’ maybe add on ‘Daddy’ to further wreck him like it did back in the days if he even still likes that. But as much as Steve likes Bucky telling him what to do, he loves to defy him into aggression, twice as much.

“Say it again,” Bucky mumbles against the omegas scent gland, unable to move a millimeter.

The laugh that tumbles past Steve’s lips is quickly swallowed by Buckys tongue shoved down his throat. Pearly white teeth pulling back only to stress a bite on his bottom lip, not stopping until a faint taste of metal joins the deliriously delicious taste of Buckys omega.

“Again, omega. Say it again.”

With another brush against his prostate, Stev’s vision begins to blur, but he won’t close his eyes, no matter how much he wants them to,

“Alpha!”

Steve is a debauched disaster. A puddle of liquid fire and Bucky wanted to fucking burn.

“You know that’s not what I want to hear, babydoll. But I’m feeling generous, so let’s make a deal, yeah? You say what I want, and I’ll tell my precious boy how good he is. How good you feel around my fingers swallowin’ my fingers so fuckin’ good. And I’ll say your name as much as you want. That’s what you were beggin’ for, wasn’t it?” Bucky rambles, fingers pumping quicker into Steve, hand starving off the omegas dick, tugging over the length with dangerous precision.

“You want me to say your name, dontcha dolly? Tell you you’re being good. Everything Daddy needs. My good, beautiful Stevie.”

Buckys cock presses into the mattress, the slightest friction sending magic to tingle over his skin. His knot calls out for Steve’s sopping wet pussy, fluttering around his fingers. The sensation alone is a mutual torture all on its own.

It would be so fucking easy to slide home into Steve’s awaiting heat. So fucking easy!

Not yet, he reminds himself.

No, he wants something first, and he’s gonna get it.

Outside of the bedroom, the thought of ever using his alpha tone with Steve is unthinkable. There isn’t a scenario out there that could justify taking away his omegas free will.

But here-like this. Sweaty and drooling and filthy, reeking of mate and sex, the tone combines with his voice as if that’s the only way there is to speak.

“Say it again, Steve. Now!”

“Daddy! Daddy, fuck me! Please,pleasepleaseplease”

Gently, the alpha removed his fingers. Steve’s mouth opens to cry, but before he can focus too much on the dreadful emptiness, Bucly is buried to the hilt in Steve’s ass.

“Ah!” Steve shouts, throwing his head back and moving his hands to grip at Bucky’s shoulders for the first time since being told not to move them an inch.

He quickly realizes his mistake, and in a fearful attempt to keep Bucky inside of him, confident he wouldn’t survive another moment of his teasing, his alpha’s voice rumbles past the panic.

“Touch me. Wherever you want, Stevie.”

The sigh of relief is an afterthought, long nimble finger trail over both metal and flesh shoulders, a satisfying wave pushing into the realm of too damn good. Being allowed to touch after being denied was always such an experience. Reverse touch starved. Bucky has the go-ahead to do with him as he wishes. Meanwhile, every instinct within the omega seeks Bucky out. His skin, his mouth, his scent. He wants to feel his alpha under his fingers as much as he wants to bounce on Buckys, but he can’t. He has to lay there and fight against the urge to suck hickeys onto every surface of skin he can find.

Pulling on stands of dark chestnut-colored hair, Steve tries to adjust to the girth inside of him.

“Move.”, the omega whispers harshly after a few moments.

Bucky doesn’t need much prompting; he knows Steve can take it, and more than that, any remaining sting that prepping might have missed, Steve fucking aches for.

“As you wish.”

It’s like a dam break. A flood, unforgiving, and exactly what they each fuckin need!

Bucky's shallow, calculated thrusts soon quicken, taking on a brutal pace.

He slams his cock home and grinds deep before pulling nearly entirely out and slamming back in. Again and again and again. Returning quicker every time he finds himself back inside Steve’s velvet-soft heat.

Words are lost on the omega, choosing to indulge rather on feral groans and guttural whines, meeting every thrust and dragging sharp nails across Bucky's shoulders.

It’s all so much. Like a storm, heavy and pounding in their ears. And it all makes so much sense.

They’re a natural disaster. Bucky kisses like a hurricane, all lips, tongue, and teeth. Steve moves and squeezes his walls around Bucky's cock, no rhyme or reason to his actions, just passion, just I have to have this.

Kisses pouring down upon kisses like rain, soaking them in love, and Steve nearly cries.

He never thought he’d have this again.

The ex-assassin is a bit more vocal.

He can feel his release creeping up, desire warm and urgent low in his belly. But cumming before Steve is absolutely not an option. Half the fun was watching the poster child for purity throw his head back in ecstasy, beggin for ruin with Buckys name on his lips. And he’d be damned if he's gonna miss it in the cloud of his own pleasure.

“D-Deeper!” Steve whimpers, pulling Bucky closer by the nape of his neck.

The hand that had been knotted in Steve’s own hair follows suit of the palm firmly placed over one sharp hip bone.

Gripping him with enough pressure to bruise, Bucky bends over Steve’s lithe build and takes hold of one muscular thigh, nearly folding the blonde in half as he settles Steve’s leg over his flesh shoulder.

“Fuck!” Steve cries, Bucky's cock sliding that much deeper, hitting his prostate with nearly every thrust.

Bucky groans at the new position, one large hand kneading and pulling at Steve's ass, tugging him back with the snap of his hips. His other hand runs over the omegas sweaty, slick body, sliding a finger over a single hard nipple before securing his fingers around Steve’s neck. Palm pushing into his scent gland.

It is a little more than light pressure, but it gives its desired effect; Steve’s eyes go from unfocused and glassy to piercing. More black than blue, pupils blown, but Bucky still catches the glint of gold mingling about, exactly what he’d been waiting for.

There you are, omegamine, he thinks.

“Ugh, yes, fuck! You like that, don’t you. Like me pushing you down. Like me pounding into your sweet pussy. But it’s not really yours is it, baby?”

“Gnnn”

“Answer me. Who’s pussy is this, Steve?”

“Y-yours, Daddy. I’m yours.”

“Mine.” The alpha growls, yet another wave of slick passing Steve’s thighs. “My omega. My good boy. Listened so good, doll.”

“Fuck, Buck. Alpha, my alpha. I missed you, I missed you so fuking much. I missed your big alpha cock. So good to me. I wanna be good, Daddy. Tell me how to be good.”

“You wanna be good?”

“Yes!”

“You’re already so good for me. Perfect omega. Pretty, perfect thing.”

“I can be-ugh yes!! I can...nnnn….be better.” The omega stutters between kisses, “Wanna be the best boy.”

“Yeah?”

“Please, Alpha. Knot me!”

“Okay, baby. Listen closely, hmm?”

“Keep still.” In two mostly smooth movements, Bucky is lying on his back, Steve’s lean frame now straddling the alpha, lifting him by the waist; Bucky sinks Steve further on his cock.

“Ride me.”

As if without his permission, Steve’s moving above the bigger man.

Thick thighs feel even wider between Steve’s slightly smaller ones. Bucky’s hands come to Steve’s waist, helping him grind down harder, deeper.

Steve can’t keep his gaze from trailing down to where they’re connected. His hole swallowing 6 to 7 inches of monster alpha cock, and he could just cry for how hot it is to see them connected like this.

I wanna be locked to you. I want your knot!

“Eyes, Stevie!” Bucky snarls with another hash snap of his hips, impaling Steve further and hitting his prostate. The omega falls over, making sure to lock blue with grey.

Abandoning their vice grip on the alphas thighs, Steve steadies himself with one hand over his lover's heart, fingertips brushing the mating gland by his neck as the other grips the headboard above the bed, wood splintering under every shock of pleasure jolting through Steve in response to each of Bucky's strident thrusts.

“Oh, oh! D-Daddy. I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!”

“Now that I’ve got you back, we won’t be leaving this room for much, Stevie. I want you on your knees sucking my big alpha cock. Licking up the evidence of what you do to me. I’ll hold you by your neck and force-feed it to you just like you like it.”

“B-Buck-eyy!”

“Yeah, baby, say my name. You’re beautiful. Angelic. A work of. Fucking. Art.” He punctuates his words with a sharp jerking of Steve’s body above him. Pulling his center as close as he can get him, knot swelling mercilessly and snagging on Steve’s rim.

Steve feels pleasure like he’s never felt before. Words slurred and hardly coherent,

“‘Wan’ yur k’nnot!”

He sounds drunk.

Bucky loves it!

“Not until you cum, baby doll. You first, then Daddy. Good boys get their rewards, and this is-” using Steve as a ragdoll, Bucky manhandles him into circular motions, twisting and penetrating the omegas sweet spot with wild precision.

One hand (Steve couldn’t even tell you which, mind too fuzzy and too loaded with his quickly approaching orgasm) presses into the omegas gorgeous tits before sweeping down to tug on Steve’s crying cock, pre-cum dribbling from its bright red head.

Steve cums with a shout, back arching and eyes struggling to stay open, finally shut. His vision whites out with pleasure, but he can’t bring himself to remember anything outside of this bliss. No world lived outside of these walls. Just him, his alpha, and all the pleasure Bucky brings him.

“Ohhh, Allphaa,”

“Yours. Yes! Oh, you feel- God so fucking tight, Stevie. Look ‘atchyou. Milking my cock, pussy squeezing my knot, beggin for it. Daddy’s gonna give it to you.”

“Gimme,” he whispers weakly.

He doesn’t feel Bucky flip him over or the hands pushing both his legs over Bucky’s shoulders, but the moment Bucky starts pumping in and out again, his body jolts awake, and all Steve wants is to make his alpha cum.

“Daddy’s gonna cum right inside your tight, perfect pussy. Yeah, Stevie. ugh!”

“Wan’ be...hmm.”, he tries to form words, but they die on his tongue, not coming down fast enough to entertain even a murmur of conversation.

Another 30 seconds passing before he has enough brain cells to return his gaze to stormy grey.

As always, Bucky’s eyes are already on him.

“That's all you got, Daddy?” The blonde snarks between pants, another orgasm building in his belly, toes curling, and his half-soft prick smushed and pulsating against Bucky's abs.

Bucky laughs around a moan, pulling Steve into another kiss before giving one, two, three more thrusts, shouting out a string of praise as his knot pops inside of his omega.

Steve’s heavy punched out sigh joins the shuddered fluttering of his hole, another wave of release escaping him.

The room fills with pants and sloppy kisses. Each man nosing along their scent glands, finding where a bond mark would go and lapping over it lovingly.

In the 40s, hiding their love was a matter of survival, and a surrender of their need to properly mate. They didn’t have to hide here. They could love each other and bite each other someday. Unified in the one way they spent most of their lives thinking they’d never have.

They Lie there, tied together even after Bucky’s knot goes down. Thoughts of taking that step-marking each other, on the tip of both of their tongues.

They lie there, bathing in the calm after the storm.

Sometime afterward:

After another round and many minutes of lazily making out, the pair rest beside each other, touching the other man wherever he could reach, tracing nonsense patterns into heated flesh and feeling happier than either had in 70 years.

“What were you sayin’, y’know before we… Y’know”, Steve blushes as if he wasn’t just face down ass up drooling over Tony’s Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Before you started crying for my knot, and I fucked you 6 ways from Sunday?”

“You’re a fucking jerk!”

“Nah, I’m just fucking a jerk.”, The alpha smiles, joy like nothing he’s been able to remember trips over his heart.

“I’m serious, Buck. Before we...did it”

“Ha!”

A sharp smack falls onto Buckys bare chest, “Fine! Before you came like a geyser up my ass-”

“Steve!” Bucky barks a laugh, loving the pink blush dusting over Steve’s cheeks despite the faux aggravation he was attempting to express.

“Will ya quit interrupting me? You fucking alphas are so rude!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Stevie. What were you saying?” Bucky concedes, the shit-eating grin doing nothing for the butterflies swarming the omega’s insides.

“You were saying that you couldn’t decipher real from what’s fake?”

Sighing, Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, not stopping, when the omega turns onto his stomach, exposing his back and facing the brunette. Bucky smiles down at the omega letting his hand slide down to his spine, tracing the smooth pale skin with the tip of his finger.

It’s freeing, liberating even, to let his hands and eyes roam wherever they want. After so many years of separation, then being reunited only to build unnecessary obstacles designed for the sole purpose of self-sabotaging, somehow they’ve found themselves again in the other man’s arms.

Bucky bends down to press a gentle kiss on Steve’s shoulder, loving the way the omega shivers beneath his lips.

I could just eat him alive…

“Buuuuck,” Steve shakes his head, smiling at the alpha underneath long lashes.

“Sorry, baby, you just look so sexy.”

“Oh, do I? Maybe it has a little to do with all the naked skin?”

Smiling goofily, Bucky allows his voice to get al sweet, “C’mere, smartass.”

Bucky pulls a yelping Steve into his lap, effectively laying the slender omega over his broad alpha chest.

The feeling is exhilarating. Bucky feels his stomach swoop and heart skip a beat, feeling more accomplished in this solitary moment entangled with Steve than in months of SHIELD work.

Steve grins despite himself. Settling against Bucky's chest, folding his hands in front of him and resting his chin onto his knuckles. Suddenly thrilled by the position.

He can stare into Bucky's eyes forever, and he has a sneaking suspicion the alpha won’t protest.

Cold metal fingers trail down Steve’s spine, eliciting a gentle quiver from the blonde man, shamelessly beaming beneath the attention.

“I remember how scared I would get in the winter.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion, lying his head down onto his forearms and urging the larger man with his eyes to continue.

“I love that I can make you shiver now. But I think it would’ve just about wrecked me with worry back then.”

Bucky's flesh hand curls across Steve’s exposed waist, letting his heat seal into his fingers. His eyes close in relief. Like he’s remembered something… or rather; reminded himself of something.

“ I remember the worry best. The sleepless nights and evenings spent bent over pews, praying no one could hear your name falling from my lips because then they’d know… Know how much I wanted you. Wanted you to live. Wanted you to love me. Wanted you to be my omega. I remember going to work at the docks and feeling the bike rise in my throat as we talked about chasing tail when all that I fucking wanted was to make it through my shift and run my way home to you.”

Steve smiles fondly at Bucky. His head remains rested in the crook of his right elbow but reaches forward with his left to trail patterns on Bucky’s scent gland. Trailing back from his neck to his cheek, he will never understand how helpful he is just by existing.

“ I remember wanting you. I know there has never been a moment in which I existed, and I didn’t love you, even under hydra. Even when they told me- made me go after you. They had to wipe me twice before I stopped fighting… I should’ve kept fighting.”

“Buck-“ Steve’s tone is soft and reprimanding in the way only Steve Rogers could manage, but it’s not enough. The tears build behind grey and crimson. Shame burning him from the inside.

Bucky shakes his head, trying to shake away Steve’s tender touch.

Leaning forward, Steve ignores the alphas dismissal, warm petal-soft lips find Buckys, and he presses his weight deeper into his alpha.

“I’m here. With you. You stopped, Buck. You never, not for a second, stopped fighting! That wasn’t you.” Steve’s tone was loving and firm in the way only Steve Rogers could ever manage- or could ever feel for Bucky Barnes.

Bucky's eyes find crystal blue, and for a moment, he’s thrust back into his mind, his heart thrashing and growling, crying Not him! Not Steve. Stop! God damn it! You’re hurting him! We can’t hurt him!

For a moment, Steve’s sweet pink cheeks are bruised and bleeding, split by Russian metal and the free will Bucky was robbed of.

“Bucky!” Steve whispers harshly, just on the edge of frantic, “ C’mon, alpha. Don’t leave me alone again.”

“I’m here.”, Bucky chokes out, “ I’m here, baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

They hold each other for, neither of them speaking. Foreheads pressed together between grabby hands pushing firmly against heated flesh.

A reminder…

I’m alive. You’re okay. We’re together.

“ I remember those things; that panic of possibly losing you, very easily,” Bucky continues, “ And then… it started as flashes. Split seconds. But god, did I chase after them. It would be something minimal at first. You lying down on the bed or smiling at me over a sketchbook. But then they changed, and your head was thrown back, and the things you were drawing were us-naked. And I started hating myself because my fucking crush on you was filtering in on my memories of you, and it wasn’t fair. It felt real, but I knew it wasn’t or-“

“But they are real, Buck. We’ve always been us. This way! Laws be damned! We loved each other, and no one was gonna tell us we couldn’t have that!”

“It didn’t matter, though,” Bucky adds.

Steve shoots up off his chest, kneeling on the mattress, and as naked as the day he was born. More hurt than he thought he could ever be in his alphas arms, “ Of course it did. How could you say that? Wha-”

Bucky sits up quickly, reaching out, but Steve swiftly evades him, feeling colder than Brooklyn in February.

“Steve-“

“No! How could you say that? It matters! We matter. You matter. I fucking matter, Bucky! I lost you. You died! You fell off that train, and my alpha died!” he cries,

“I flew that plane into the ocean not because Captain America’s nobility prevails, I did it because l was grieving and life wasn’t worth living without you.”

“Steve-“

“No! Shut. Up.” Steve growls, but it sounds more like a whine.

“I died too, Buck. And woke up to a life I didn’t want either. Not just like you. I know what you went through was unthinkably cruel. But living without you was a prison sentence. And I had no choice but to wear red, white, and blue in place of orange and serve out my life miserably and without you. And that mattered.”

“I know, Stevie, I know. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby.”

“Then how else did you mean it?”

“There were things that I saw or remembered-whatever! But neither matter because fantasy is something that can never happen, and if it’s a memory, it will never happen again.”

Steve can feel his heart breaking in his chest. Angry and more than a little offended, he can practically feel the anguish emanating from his alpha’s skin.

“Because you wouldn’t want the blood-soaked into my hands to touch you. To touch your pretty perfect body, so I say your name, and I can’t stop because my alpha is always just before feral, and you are the only thing keeping Me on the side of sane. I know you matter. You’re the only thing on this entire fucked up bullshit infested planet that matters!”

“But the thought of losing you based on things I simply wanted and not what you needed from me? It didn’t matter- nothing mattered beyond you. I thought you wanted Bucky Barnes, the closeted best friend. I couldn’t trust myself to believe you wanted me in the 40s, and I couldn’t hope that if you had, you’d want me still.”

“You’re an idiot,” Steve sighs, eyes misting, but he lets himself be drawn in by strong, vulnerable arms.

“...I think I understand what you mean, though.”

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to say I miss you ao many times. But then I just...couldn’t. I thought it wouldn’t change anything, so I just kept pretending I didn’t. But then there are days when I wake up, and the fact that it’s without you won’t let me pretend anymore.”

“Now, who’s the idiot?” Bucky chuckles, brushing strands of hair from those hypnotizing blue eyes.

Bucky lets the Sympathy, understanding pool from his scent and settle over Steve like a warm blanket.

Smiling, Steve takes the comfort from his alpha in stride, “Of course, I talk like an idiot, Buck. How else are you ‘posed to understand me?”

Huffing a quick laugh, the ex-assassin feels all the love for this omega shine in a smile, “You’re such a fuckin’ punk, y’know that little omega?”

“ I’m your fuckin’ Punk, and besides, I’m not so little anymore.”

Whatever faithless semblance of decency they had left swiftly deteriorates as Bucky fully settles Steve into his lap, lying back into the cushions and pulling the duvet over them both.

He presses a soft kiss on Steve’s forehead and whispers with as much meaning he can muster, “You’re perfect, omegamine. Fuckin’ perfect! Perfect for me, you hear?”

Steve releases a joyful giggle,” I hear. Are we going to sleep, Alpha?”

“Yep!”

Snuggling deeper into the alpha’s chest, Steve feels content for the first time in what feels like forever, loving how perfectly he still fits in Bucky's arms, even all beefed up by the serum. Not a single gap between them.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?” Bucky asks happily. Certainly hearing and feeling Steve’s pleased purring.

“ I’m warm,” The omega mumbles, exhaustion barreling into him.

“Good. Sleep, Stevie. We'll talk more in the morning.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just nuzzles into his alpha more until his nose is close enough to the source of the brunette’s scent, humming satisfaction as he sniffs pleasantly.

“I never thought I’d get to have this. That you’d be in my arms like this. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life just pining after you-loving you. I love you, omegamine. I love you so much.”

Steve replies in soft snores, but Bucky doesn’t care. He presses a kiss to the top of ruffled blonde hair and falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He doesn't mind that Steve fell asleep because nothing else matters besides his blue-eyed beauty. Not when he has this. Not when Steve is soft and asleep and warm. He has the rest of his life to tell his omega he loves him.

One thing is for sure.

Bucky will never stop saying Steve’s name.