#except the part where I was standing alone in the dark and then he tore off after something barking like he was calling down the angels

[61below]

My view before going to bed (barely visible to the naked eye)

My view when my dog woke me up at 2 in the goddamned morning (again)

… for once, it was worth it 🥹

[dreaming-of-lu]

Heyo💖 I hope you are having the bestes time!

I was wondering if you can write a scenario of reader trying to hold the boys hands!

It can be anyone, but like either the reader is upset and is getting stuck in their head. They need one of the boys to ground them, but like they don’t want a hug, just need a hand.

Or

One of the boys just woke up from a nightmare and they can’t stop seeing the images from the dream. Reader notice this and is trying to comfort or ground them.

Something like that!

By the way you look gorgeous today💕💕

A/N: I am! Also thank you for being patient and shhiiieeettt, why thank you, you look gorgeous too doll 😘 Buckle in. CW: Gore, body horror and vomit (Hyrule), Panic attacks

o(〃＾▽＾〃)o Part 1 of 3 (Twilight, Hyrule, Legend)

Twilight

The cold feeling of ice that slithered down him had encased his entire being, freezing everything within him, from blood to veins to nerves. He stood rooted to his spot at the sight of all the portals opening right before him. What was clouded previously in purple smoke and shadows was now standing a pure crystal blue, beckoning them to step through to come home. There would be no more fighting, no more monsters to deal with, no more shadows, no more nothing. The journey was over, they were free to rest now, but an ache deep within his heart tore at the flesh, tissue, and muscle.

It was too good to be convincing, but it meant goodbye to everybody, especially you. You, who came bounding up to him, your face so giddy that it stung deep in his heart. You, who smashed your way through his heart and now leaving him; cold and all alone.

"Well," you excitedly bounced on your feet, beautiful colored eyes that stared into his own, making him weak in the knees, "this is it!"

"Yeah, haha."

Twilight gives a shaky grin, masking the feelings that rose deep in him; his inner voice and nerves yelled at him and begged him to beg you to stay with him. He wanted to be selfish, just this once; he wanted to be absolutely heedless, but he couldn't bring himself to do that to you.

"It's time for me to go; it was a long journey, but I'm glad I got to know all of you!"

'Please, don't leave me! Please!'

"I love you all, do take care of yourselves!" The sight of your bright smile made his chest clench to where he felt as if all the air was sucked right out of him, the feeling of being sucker punched hard in the gut. Sound slowly dispersed as his ears loudly began to ring; it was deafening. He didn't notice that one by one, all of them left except him. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he stood rooted to the spot.

Every sound made it sound like he was underwater, feeling chained to the floor as he watched the portal you went through disappear.

His eyes watered, the feeling of his heart threatening to burst through his chest as he heavily breathes, hoping to will himself around to head into the portal to his home. He couldn't shake himself out of it even as darkness began to edge along his vision. You were gone. Gone. He was all alone. Again. He whimpers, feeling like a child, lost and afraid, without the person they clung to. He sobs and sobs, begging loudly to the heavens for you to come back.

"Please," he keens, "don't leave me all alone."

Shadows encased him; a voice so faint yelled his name. It grows louder and louder, shaking him deep into his core.

"Link! Wake up!" His entire body jolts up, heart in his throat, panting wildly with wide eyes as they searched frantically. Body hunched in defense, ready to leap into a fight. He flinched at the feeling of a hand that quickly receded. So many thoughts and questions ran through his mind. Where was he? Who woke him up? They ran for miles.

"Link," the voice sounded so far away and warbly, "you need to breathe."

He greedily sucked in the air, heaving deep breaths before the heart in his chest began to slow from the terror that took him. With a blurry sight beginning to clear, he sees you. You. You sat before him on the bed in the shared bedroom in the same home, staring worriedly at him. Hair was a mess, your sleep-riddled eyes, and you were wearing one of his tunics; it slowly slipped off your shoulder, yet you still looked so gorgeous to him. The gentle feeling of your hand on his cheek made him sigh blissfully, nuzzling into your palm at the peace you held.

"Want to talk about it?" you voice nothing more than a whisper to his ears, soft enough to not shatter the air that overtook the bedroom. Twilight weakly shook his head,

"No," teary blues gazed into yours, "can I hold you?"

"Yes, always, darling."

Hyrule (Warning if you haven't read it in the note: Gore, Body horror, and vomit. Please skip if you are uncomfortable with this.)

"No, no, please!" Hyrule sobbed, his hands frantically pressing against the wound. Violently sobbing as he watched hopelessly at the blood that stained his hands, staining yours and his tunic, the smell of iron that made his stomach churn on the spot when it began to leak past his fingers. You swore you would stay out of this fight! You swore! Why did you have to be so foolish?! He can handle his own in a battle; Hyrule's like the other Links, always comes out victorious in the end. He was shaking. Shaking so bad.

Yet you don't know when to call it in when they are out of your zone. You weren't like them, any of them! You don't hold a triforce, you're not a holder of the master sword, and you're not a reincarnated Link!

"You are," Hyrule choked on his spit, "such a fool! You know we had it handled!"

He could use his magic! Hyrule closed his eyes, willing forth the ability to heal the wound.

Why? Why was his magic not working? Why does he not feel it? Hyrule looked panicky at his hands, hoping to see the familiar glow, only for the same red liquid that dyed his hands to glare right back at him. His brows furrowed, mind racing, digging into his memory at anything that could help heal you. A movement under his hands caught his attention.

He stared in horror as the wound widens before his eyes, skin and tissue peeling back to reveal organs. He felt his hands slowly sink into you; the blood stuck his hands together, forming them almost like crystallization; no matter how hard he pulled, they didn't budge. Your intestines began moving, wrapping around his wrists, tightly squeezing them, and bile rose in his throat at the feeling of them.

He began to yell loudly with the hope that somebody in the group would come to his aide, only for silence to answer him. He looks over his shoulder to see darkness staring back at him.

Hyrule jolts at the feeling of a hand clutching his arm; static crept up his arms and down the back of his neck.

Your wild, bloodshot eyes stared back at him. Your hand aggressively grabbed his tunic, forehead against forehead. Blood, spit, and bile spew from your lips and spat across his horror-stricken face.

"YOU COULD'VE SAVED ME!"

Hyrule's body shot forward, his legs scrambling out of his blanket, stumbling over his feet to book it little ways from camp. He fell onto his knees harshly, his body lurching forward, dry-heaving until vomit came out, crying harshly at the burn and the haunting image that never left his mind, burning into his lids.

"-ulie!" He sobbed. Everything hurt. His gut felt like it was squeezing the life out of him, eyes and nose burning. He couldn't stop crying; he cried harder when a hand rested on his back.

"Rulie, Hyrule," the voice sounded so far, yet it was near; he clung to it like a lifeboat upon the roaring waves of the angered seas that never ceased its brutal pounding. It was his anchor when the voice repeated itself,

"Hyrule," oh, so soft, so sweet, "you're safe; it was just a dream."

"Please," he whimpers, "please, don't leave me alone."

"I won't, Link. I won't."

Legend

Everything was screaming at him.

The endless tyrants, the never-ending feeling that he was in danger, consistently in fight or flight mode. Shadows lurked on the edge of his vision, threatening to completely shut the light out as his sight blurred. Everything was spinning; the breath he had escaped him, short gasps left his lips, and the sounds of the forest were drowned out by his own heartbeat pounding loudly with his ears.

'It's not safe! We're not safe!' His brain screamed at him, emotions going wild, flickering like a lit candle between every feeling. Not stopping on one or two, just continuously speeding rapidly like his eyes that ran back and forth in the haze of colors that overwhelmed him.

"Please," he gasped, "make it-"

He felt caged within his mind, feeling like he was stuck in his rabbit form, bouncing off the steel walls, hoping that he'll escape. How many minutes has it been? Two? Elven? He wasn't sure anymore, but the feeling tightened its hold on him, never letting him loose, just as if a Hinox had him in its hand.

"-end," it sounded so far and muffled. Feeling a hand land on his clenched one, he opens his and quickly traps it in his. The buzzing of his nerves vibrated through his hand, and he clenched it tighter, holding the person's hand to his beating chest.

"-end," muffled, "ca- -u -ar -e?"

"NO!" He sobs.

The voice sounded so far; he felt like he was head-first underwater again, relieving the nightmare he witnessed when Koholint Island disappeared and he woke up on a raft in the ocean.

"Please, don't let this be a dream!" He sobbed harshly.

"I got you, but I need you to breathe right now; can you do that? Follow my breathing."

In.

Out.

In. 2. and out. 2.

In. 2. 3. 4. and out. 2. 3. 4.

In. 2. 3. 4. 5. and out. 2. 3. 4. 5.

His sight clears, the first thing he sees was your eyes and your gentle smile.

"Hey there, bunny."

[bruggle]

Behold!

The Rip-out-your-heart-inator!

At least, that's the goal. Dunno if I achieved it. Have fun, chilren.

Glowing

The past is a haunting thing. But what else can it do in the present except try to hurt you?

Words: 3k

"A moon of light reflecting fully

And I guess it would feel like rebirth

Out of some kind of dying

To see yourself

So glowing."

-Glowing, The Oh Hellos

Carnage.

  Destruction.

  Death.

  How much was caused by him?

  Everywhere X looked, that’s all he saw. Omega, within the massive suit Weil had created in order to enhance his ability to control reploids while fused with the Dark Elf, sat prone; too heavily damaged to even move. X glowered; he didn’t even bother trying to fight it back. There were few people X could say he truly hated. Omega had the ‘honor’ of being one of them.

  A part of X wanted to end the doppelganger right then and there. To hell with mercy. To hell with restraint.

  X tore his gaze from the giant reploid. He had to find his brothers. Axl had disappeared early in the fight; swallowed by the sea of controlled reploids that had appeared the second Weil had integrated the Dark Elf. Zero… Zero had faced Omega alone for the first part of the battle as X struggled to beat back Weil’s army of golems. He wasn’t sure where the red clad reploid had gone once the white reploid had set his sights on X. Please don’t let them be dead.

  There were… so many bodies.

  So many.

  None of them deserved it.

  Of the few reploids still standing, none of them were familiar. They all ducked their gaze once they realized X was looking at them. No. He kept moving. Surely, Axl would appear with yet another poorly timed joke, as he was wont to do. Or… or Zero would join his side without a word, silently giving his support. Please. Please.

  As X wandered the battleground, he noticed a group of reploids standing in a circle; their grave expression sent a pulse of panic through his systems. No. He picked up the pace, making a beeline towards them. No. As X grew closer, one of the reploids noticed his presence, a horrified expression making it’s home on his face. No. More took notice of the blue bomber’s appearance; beginning to  whisper amongst themselves. No. “Wait-“ one of them called, but X ignored them; stumbling closer to the object they were encircling. Why did it look familiar?! Pushing a purple clad reploid out of the way, it took everything for X to not break right there and then.

  The figure on the ground was clad in navy armor with grey and red accents.

  The inset blue gem was destroyed.

  The helmet was gone, allowing red hair to hang loosely around his face.

   Sightless green eyes stared back at him.

  X fell to the floor, gathering Axl’s limp body into his arms. “No, no, no,” he repeated softly to himself, over and over and over and over again. It was unnatural to see the normally hyperactive reploid so still. X refused to look at the missing arm and legs, focusing on the prototype’s face. Axl’s body was shaking or was that just his own arms shaking? as X hugged him closer. He was- X shut that thought down, choosing to instead bury his face in Axl’s hair. “You’re okay,” he whispered, clenching his eyes closed. “It’s over. Wake- wake up, Axl. C’mon, this joke isn’t funny anymore.”

  The surrounding reploids looked around at each other, searching for the correct words to say. X didn’t care. Where was Zero? Why wasn’t Axl waking up?! “Sir,” one of the reploids hesitantly spoke up. “I don’t think-“

  “Shut up,” X demanded, snarled, begged.

  Don’t tell me, he silently prayed. He has to be okay.

  Where was Zero?!

  A sudden wetness on his cheeks made X slowly reopen his eyes. Had it started raining? Looking up, the skies were still clear it didn’t fit it didn’t fit it didn’t fit it didn’t fit it didn’t fit causing X to slowly bring a hand to his face. Pulling it away, it was definitely wet; he had almost forgotten he could cry. The reploid that had been brave enough to speak gave him an odd look. They couldn’t. Of course they couldn’t.

  Anger.

  Rage.

  Pain.

  Why was there so much pain?!

  Gently cradling his brother’s body to his chest, X slowly stood up. He knew. Axl was dead. And it was his fault. X never should have allowed him to become a Maverick Hunter. Turning, he made his way back to the center of the battleground; passing the giant, motionless heap yet again.

  He had never wanted to utterly destroy Sigma as much as he wanted to destroy Omega.

  Why not? asked a voice. Why not destroy it now?

  It was there that X noticed a new face, one completely unmarked by the horrors all the other survivors witnessed. Her eyes were darting over the wasted landscape, until they landed on him. Recognition lit up her face, as she hurriedly made her way to him, carefully picking her path in order to avoid the worst of the… viscera.

  “Mister X!” she called. “I was- I was sent by Isaac! You’re needed!” X brushed past her, he didn’t care. Isaac could go to hell for all he cared at the moment. “Mister X, please-“

  “Tell him I’m busy,” X ordered growled, seethed, snapped.

  “Oh, but Mister X, it’s an emergency!” the reploid insisted. “There’s been bombs set off and-“

  “ENOUGH,” X boomed. He didn’t need to hear it. He had heard them going off as Omega had fallen, Weil cackling in the background. The reploid shrank back, fear flickering in her eyes for a second. It was then that she seemingly noticed the limp form he held tightly to his chest. “O-oh…” she whispered, franticly looking around before darting off.

  Good.

  Great.

  Why wasn’t Zero here?

  Ventilation system working overtime, X turned back around. He gently laid Axl on the ground, searching his face one last time in a desperate, desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll blink. Ask X what the long face is for. Laugh. Wink. Punch his arm. Something. Anything. Please.

  But he knew.

  He knew.

  He fucking knew.

  And so, with a heavy heart, X gently closed the prototype’s eyes one

  Last

  Time.

  His tears gently landed on Axl’s face, giving the illusion that it was he who was crying, rather than X.

 

 

 

  What was he supposed to do now?

 

 

  The thought of making a grave passed X’s mind, but he didn’t want to entertain it.

  That would mean Weil won.

  That Axl was dead.

  He didn’t want

  He

  He didn’t want to think about it.

  The sound of footsteps alerted him to an approaching figure.

  Too urgent, too heavy, too quick to be Zero.

  Glancing at the figure, X didn’t recognize him; but he very obviously recognized the blue bomber. Making a straight beeline to X’s location, the new figure saluted him. X didn’t respond, causing the figure to falter for a second. “Sir, I’ve been sent with a message,” he said in a clipped manner.

  X didn’t respond.

  The figure hesitated.

  “Sir, Maverick Hunter HQ-“

  “Don’t,” he commanded. He begged. He raged. He pleaded. He cursed. He whispered. He screamed. What was he supposed to do?

   No, no, no, please, no. Weil had already taken so much; please, please, don’t tell him the monster had taken more.

  The messenger stood awkwardly, struggling to figure out what to do next. It was pretty obvious that the poor figure was likely pulled from the streets in order to deliver the message to X. A message he didn’t want to hear.

  He didn’t want to hear.

  He didn’t

  He didn’t want

  He didn’t want to hear.

 

 

 

 

  “He needs to pay for his crimes!”

  “But there’s so few left! Are we really going to throw away a brilliant mind?!”

  “Are you out of your mind?! He’s the reason everything went to shit in the first place!”

  It was all so… meaningless.

  The squabbling, the yelling, the arguments, meaningless.

  He wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill them both.

  Isaac glanced over to X, concern written on his face. X didn’t care. It was all meaningless.

  After a handful of reploids none of them familiar. Why were none of them familiar? were finally able to tear X away from his position kneeling over Axl’s body, Isaac had carefully, gently explained that Zero had sealed himself away; claiming fault for everything that happened. After all, he had been the source of the virus. The Dark Elf. Omega himself. It was all his fault.

  X should hate him.

  He really should.

  But he had already lost one brother.

  Why did he have to lose both.

    And now, here he was. The last dregs of society demanding him to figure out what to do with Omega. With Weil. X couldn’t bring himself to even look at them. He just wanted them out of his sight. The large, white reploid still sat prone, completely worthless without its’ master to command it. Pathetic. He could almost bring up pity for the thing.

  But not quite.

  Weil, on the other hand, had a smug look despite half his face being covered. Prevented from speaking, he was completely at the mercy of X.

  He wasn’t feeling very merciful.

  It scared him.

  Why, that voice asked. He’s taken everything from you.

  “Enough,” X called, his patience growing thin. He just wanted them out of his sight. “There is no way to remove Omega from the suit. Not without destroying it, but there is no way to know for sure if… Weil has any sort of backup plans for that.” He had certainly had a plan to make sure nobody won if he didn’t. The doctor narrowing his eyes told X he was right on the money. He glowered down at the human. “Launch it into space,” he ordered. “It won’t be of any use where Weil cannot reach it.” The people officiating the trial glanced at each other, whispering amongst themselves. The moon had served as an adequate prison for Sigma; X hoped the same would be true of the doppelganger.

  “What of Weil?” asked one brave individual.

  “Toss him out of Neo Arcadia,” X demanded snarled. “I don’t care how.” He had to leave. He would do something he’d regret if he didn’t. Turning, X made his way off the podium. Isaac followed after, trying desperately to speak to him.

  X ignored him.

 

  It was all so meaningless.

 

 

Ciel helped.

 

But not by much.

 

 

  It still hurt.

 

 

 

  The Dark Elf’s reappearance had made him panic.

  Was Weil back?

  If he is, kill him.

  The thoughts were getting louder.

  He was slowly becoming a danger.

  It scared him.

  Thus, he had come to the conclusion that for the sake of everyone, he needed to seal himself away. Just as Zero did all those years ago. The Dark Elf… She had rejected the notion of fusing with X. Quite violently, in fact. But alas, his will, his anger, his agony, it was greater than her rejection. She had fallen silent once fully fused.

  But it had taken it’s toll.

  He was so tired.

 

  He let himself rest.

 

 

  It wasn’t so bad, simply existing in a void…

 

 

 

 

  X awoke in a panic.

  Greedily gulping down oxygen, he put a hand to his head. Hair. Real hair. Not the synthetic hair he was used to. He pulled it away, studying his fingers. Scars littered the hand; not from fights, not from war, not from weapons. These were all from forgetting where they were while cutting vegetables. That touching hot pans was not a good idea. A misplaced needle while fixing up a garment. Peaceful scars.

  He had never been so relieved to see a scar before.

  He had to take a moment to remind himself that he was no longer back there.

  He was no longer a leader. Well, outside of being head of his little mishmash of a family.

  He was just X.

  Just as he always wished he could be.

  Just as he always should have been.

  The cry of a gull pulled him from his musings, causing him to glance at the clock by his bed. It was quite early; he still had an hour or so before the sun even began to rise. But the thought of trying to sleep after… that made his stomach turn. He was awake, whether he liked it or not. It was far too early to start breakfast, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t go out into the kitchen.

  Barrell had gotten him addicted to coffee, after all.

  Quietly making his way out of the kitchen, he turned on one of the lamps rather than the overhead lights. Levi was rather sensitive to light and had the habit of leaving her door open while she slept. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up any of the inhabitants. (Could you blame him for wanting at least a little bit of peace to himself? Eight people in a single house boat was quite the number, after all!) X made his way to the cabinet he knew held the caffeinated drink he craved; making sure to open it just right. (The darn thing squeaked if opened too quickly; he and Barrell were still trying to figure out why.)

  Just as he grabbed the bag of grounds, the sound of footsteps caught his attention. X inwardly groaned; he had been so careful not to wake anyone…

  “What are you doing up, dad?” asked Volnutt, his youngest. The younger carbon was rubbing at his eyes, telling X he had indeed just woken up.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” X quietly sighed. “Now why are you up, young man?”

  “Bathroom,” Volnutt yawned. “But I heard something, so I came to check it out.” X chuckled quietly to himself. “It’s just me,” he assured the brunette. “No need to worry. Go take care of business and get back to bed.” Volnutt blinked blearily at him, before turning to do as he was told.

  Shaking his head, X prepared his coffee as quietly as he could. Filling the pot with water to pour into the chamber, placing a filter into its place, filling said filter with grounds, now all that was left was for the machine to warm up. The older carbon looked around for something to occupy the time.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much in the kitchen. And he didn’t want to go walking around in fear of waking any more of the inhabitants.

  The flush of the toilet grabbed X’s attention; he waited for the sound of running water to accompany it.

  It did not occur.

  That boy…

  As Volnutt opened the door, X glared at him. “What?” he sleepily asked.

  “You did not wash your hands, young man,” X accused, crossing his arms.

  “Ah, crap,” Volnutt muttered. “Forgot.” He made the decision to walk back to his room regardless. X stared after him incredulously. “Excuse me,” the older carbon huffed. “Go wash your hands, Volnutt!”

  “But daaaaaad!” Volnutt winged. “’M tired! And you said go back to bed!”

  “You can go back to bed after you wash your hands!” Honestly, this boy…

  Volnutt let out a scoff, but obediently turned and did as he was told. X shook his head as he chuckled at the boy’s dramatics.

  He would rather have to get onto this child about washing his hands every time than spend one more second back there.

  Now why wasn’t the coffee maker heating up?

  As X studied the machine in an effort to figure out the reason (surely he wouldn’t be bested by a silly little machine like this!), Volnutt walked into the kitchen. X was tempted to tease him about no longer being tired, but he was far more interested in figuring out why the blasted mechanism wouldn’t give him his caffeine.

  “Uh, dad?” Volnutt quietly called. X turned to him, seeing him point to a spot on the wall. The older carbon turned to see that he was pointing at an outlet.

  An empty outlet.

  Meaning the coffee maker wasn’t plugged in.

  Well that explained it.

  Huh. He was more tired than he thought.

  X couldn’t help but laugh at himself, causing Volnutt to chuckle alongside him. The older brunette shook his head as he quickly plugged in the machine. Now it was making the familiar sounds of heating up. “Are you okay, dad?” Volnutt asked, genuine concern lacing every word. X gazed at his youngest, soft sigh escaping him. “Just a nightmare,” he assured the fourteen year-old. Volnutt tilted his head. “You want to talk about it?” he asked. “You always tell me that it helps.”

  The former blue bomber gave his youngest a fond smile.

  What had he done to deserve this child? He didn’t deserve him.

  “I’ll be okay,” X insisted. “Maybe when your older, we can talk about it.” Volnutt’s face fell; X hated doing this to him, but the child had no business knowing the horrors he had been through.

  He will be dead in the ground before he lets even an ounce of his past touch this child.

  “What’s all the noise about?” yawned Leviathan as she blearily entered the room. “I’m trying to get my beauty sleep.”

  Oops. X supposed they had been a bit too loud.

  “Sorry Levi,” said Volnutt, a cheeky grin forming on his face.

  Oh no.

  “You definitely need it.”

  Oh no.

  “WHY YOU-“

  “Children!” X hissed. “It is still early! Do not wake the house!”

  “Is that coffee I smell?” asked Barrell, slowly making his way out of the room. X let out a defeated sigh. So much for his peaceful morning…

  “HEY!” Roll called from her room. “Some people are trying to sleep!”

  “Take your own advice!” Fefnir yelled from down the hall.

  “Why don’t you?” argued Harpuia.

  “Man, you’re all so noisy,” chuckled Phantom, slinking into the kitchen from an open window. “Couldn’t be me.”

  “As if!” Volnutt argued. “You were stomping on the roof of my room all night!”

  “Prove it,” Phantom smirked.

  Watching the chaos unfold, X poured himself and Barrell a cup of coffee.

  He wouldn’t trade this for anything.

The past was the past.

And it would stay that way.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 8,912 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, sexuality, anxiety, fear, nudity, violence, gore, death of a character, typical TWD A/N: Here we are! The very final part of this series and it's a long one. It's definitely bittersweet. 257 page document and almost 130,00 words. Thanks for sticking with Y/N and Daryl this whole time. Hope you like it. A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N and Daryl head to the meeting place to try and put an end to Negan and The saviors.

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl was staring over at you beside him in the bed. The sheet was swirled around your hips, allowing him to memorize the delicate angles of your shoulders blades and to trace the shadow of your spine down to the dimple in your lower back. You were sleeping soundly beside him somehow, probably just out of exhaustion. The two of you had practically torn the house apart last night tearing into one another feverishly with desire and scenes from it played on a loop in his head; your legs wrapped around his hips as he pressed your back into the wall, sweat beading up on both of you, your head thrown back and your eyes closed as you gasped in pleasure, completely letting go and surrounded only by sensations of him.

Daryl had pressed kisses and nipped at practically every inch of your soft skin, knowing some would leave faint bruises and reveling in the surprised noises his lips and teeth were eliciting from you. He could practically still feel your fingernails down his back, your lips crashing into his, your fingers in his hair. He could hear your laughter and see the fire in your eyes and blush in your cheeks when you’d both clattered into the nightstand as you tore each other’s clothes off and sent the lamp shattering on the floor. It had been a whirlwind of desire and passion and was borne of both of your fears and anxiety about what was coming. It was needy and full of love. It was heated and wild. Daryl had never experienced anything like it and neither had you... The feelings and sensations had been all-consuming and almost overwhelming. Unstoppable.

But afterwards, once you’d laid spent on the bed for a time, tangled with each other, you kissed him so softly and tenderly and with so much love he’d melted into warmth, and he’d returned it and told you how you were everything to him, how much he loved you, how he needed you to breathe, to live. And you’d returned every word. He was bewildered and still in disbelief that you felt the way you did about him. Your eyes drank him in and then you’d pulled him gently under a warm cascade of water and showered together, washing each other’s hair, caring for the bumps and bruises you’d inflicted on one another earlier in the lustful crescendo and physical venting of your frustration and worries, smoothing the rich lather over one another, refusing to part for a second. And this was delicate and tender. Your hands were light on each other. Your kisses were soft but still full of heat.

You’d collapsed against him in bed, completely content with his arms around you, but Daryl hadn’t been able to sleep a moment. Now it was almost time for him to wake you. It was nearly 3 am, and the plan was to meet Rosita at the gate at 3:30. You’d travel under cover of darkness to the place where Negan was to meet you that afternoon, allowing them both to conceal themselves in the trees on opposite sides of the field. And then you’d wait.

Daryl adjusted the sheet over himself as he rolled closer to you, needing to feel your skin against his. Both of his hands smoothed over your back and you felt so small and delicate beneath them. You stirred a little beneath his touch and he kissed your shoulder and swept your hair aside to kiss your neck. You let out a soft sigh and sleepy moan and Daryl wanted so much to stay hidden with you in his arms forever. Why the fuck did this goddamn world have to be the way it was? How was it that he’d only found something this good when everything else was utter shit? The constant shit coefficient, he thought to himself. Something Merle used to say.

“Do we have to wake up?” you breathed quietly, turning and curling into him, your fingers finding his bare chest and moving down his side to hold gently to him.

“Yeah. S’time,” he drawled. Your eyes flitted open and for a moment Daryl thought he saw a flash of fear in them, but the next moment it was gone.

“Okay,” you said.

The archer reached out and smoothed his fingers through your hair. Your hand covered his and you laced your fingers in between his.

“It’s almost done,” you said. But Daryl didn’t find that reassuring. You saw that he looked careworn and worried and pressed his hand over your heart so he could feel it beating. “Hey. Everything is going to be fine,” you said. “I love you.”

Daryl felt a swell of emotions, everything all mixed together at once. It was dizzying. “I love ya, too.” You leaned in and kissed him softly. The next moment you both rose and dressed and soon you were outside the gate with Rosita, on your way to the meeting place.

It was still almost pitch black when you arrived, except for the faintest glow of a lighter blue on the eastern horizon. The three of you walked the area in silence, shoulder to shoulder. There were a few walkers and you put them down like a well-oiled machine. You all picked the spots where Rosita and Daryl would post up with their scoped rifles. Daryl gave Rosita a boost so she could climb up into a large oak tree. She settled into the crook of two diverging branches and nodded, glancing down at you. “It’s good. I have a good view.” Her camouflage clothing made her nearly impossible to see against the leaves and bark.

You walked with Daryl across the open clearing and into the small copse of trees on the other side. After you’d found a suitable spot, he gave you a long look, frozen with his hand on the strap of his rifle.

“There’s still time,” he drawled. “Ya ain’t gotta do this. We can find some other way.”

You stepped close to him and rested your hand on his strong chest, feeling the beating of his heart beneath your fingers and the expansion of his lungs with each breath. “I do have to do this,” you said. You stared up into his blue eyes. “Everything is going to be okay,” you reassured him.

His eyes flickered between yours but your reassurance didn’t relieve the pit in his stomach. He cupped your face and kissed you, pouring everything into that kiss and soaking you up, breathing you in. “Alright. Let’s get this done.” He knew there was no talking you out of it.

You pulled your pistol and handed it over to him. “Just hold this for me for a little while,” you said. But you kept your knife in its sheath for now in case a stray walker wandered by. “Daryl Dixon. I love you. More than you know,” you said, taking one last long look at him.

His forehead was deeply lined with worry, but his voice was steady. “I love ya too.” And then he watched as you headed into the darkness to wait in the clearing while he took his place. _ _ _ _ _ _

The wait was agonizing. You were practically sick with strenuous anticipation but finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you heard a vehicle in the distance. You rose from your seat on the ground and stood in the small circle of depressed grass left where you’d waited. Your jeans felt damp with moisture from the morning dew that hadn’t yet evaporated and you squinted in the direction of the road. Eventually a tall, lean figure, immediately recognizable as Negan came into view. Despite the heat of the sun, he was wearing his characteristic leather jacket. You were surprised but relieved to see he was without Lucille. You began approaching him cautiously, aiming to meet him halfway, knowing that would be a good spot for both Daryl and Rosita’s fields of view.

You were about a third of the way there when he suddenly froze and spoke. “Y/N, is that a goddamn knife I see on your hip? What in the fucking hell did you think unarmed meant?” he growled. His voice was deepened in anger and booming across the open space to you.

You pulled it from the sheath and tossed it out away from you over your shoulder. “I needed something in case of walkers,” you said. You eyed him suspiciously but he seemed to relax. You noted that he had a pistol in a holster at his side.

You both resumed your approach but something over his shoulder caught your eye and every muscle in your body tensed. “I said come alone!” you spat at him. “I said no one else!” You started to back away but far from looking concerned, Negan simply laughed.

He whistled and Dwight came into view, but he was entirely different than when you’d last seen him in Alexandria, when he’d come to pledge to help you fight against The Saviors. He was now clothed in a filthy sweatshirt and sweatpants that looked like they could have been the very same ones Daryl had worn, and his face was covered in bruises. “This? Oh, this isn’t someone, Y/N. This is my new dog, Dwight.”

You gulped and your heart started to race. Oh, fuck. He knew. “What did—"

“Can we not lie to each other, Y/N?” he growled, interrupting you. “I fucking know that you know what he did. I FUCKING KNOW!” he roared at you, his usually handsome features distorting and his face burning red with anger. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t FUCKING figure out what sneaky little rat cunt was feeding information to Alexandria? How goddamn fucking stupid do you think I am?”

You were paralyzed and were praying that Rosita or Daryl would pull the goddamn trigger. They had to know something was wrong. Was Negan far enough into the field now that he wasn’t blocked by other trees?

“Get the FUCK DOWN and get the FUCK over here, dog!” Negan growled at Dwight. Dwight fell to his hands and knees, his head down, and he crawled the rest of the way to Negan. When Dwight reached his side, Negan glared down at him. “Now stand the fuck up right here, right next to me and keep your eyes on the goddamn ground.” His voice was dripping with contempt. Negan looked back up at you. You realized that Dwight standing next to him was, in all likelihood, blocking Daryl from taking a shot at Negan. “Are we doing this or what?” Negan said. “Come over here so I don’t have to fucking yell and you can tell me why in the hell I shouldn’t just wipe all three communities off the goddamn map.”

Somehow you steadied your nerves after seeing Dwight so changed and you walked the rest of the way toward him cautiously. Negan seemed to calm as you came closer and you caught him looking you up and down. “Lift your shirt up, Y/N,” he said.

“Fuck you,” you spat back at him.

He rolled his eyes. “I said lift it up, not take it off. There’ll be plenty of time for that later if you’re interested,” he said with a grin. “I want to see your waistband. Make sure you’re not hiding some cute little peashooter.”

You begrudgingly lifted your t-shirt up enough so Negan could see the waistband of your jeans. “Turn,” he said, moving his forefinger in a circle. You scoffed, but complied and turned around so he could see you weren’t hiding anything.

“Good,” he said as you came to rest back in your original position.

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask to frisk me,” you snarked at him. He let out a chuckle and that wide goddamn smile grew on his face as he looked at you.

“Holy shit. I do miss you, Y/N,” he said. “And not just for the great ass.” You were taking a breath about to open your mouth to say something snarky back when suddenly Negan pulled his pistol and shot Dwight right in the fucking head. You watched the blowback of blood splotch Negan’s face like it was in slow motion. The cloud of gunpowder drifted lazily on the heat of the afternoon air. Dwight’s body crumpled to the grass in a heap like a wet towel and you stood paralyzed, in shock, staring at the place where that living man had just been standing. Your hesitation from the shock of what the fuck you had just watched only lasted for a split second but it was long enough for Negan. Dwight’s body hadn’t even finished falling when Negan lunged forward and grabbed you, spinning you roughly and pulling you back against his body, one arm looped around your neck.

There was nothing you could do. He had you.

“Fool me once, shame on you,” he hissed into your ear. “Fool me twice…” His arm around you was tight. You could feel his tensed muscles straining as he pulled you back against him. But there was a sharp biting to the muzzle of his gun pressed into your back. “Now what did I fucking tell you, Y/N? I said no goddamn Daryl, didn’t I? And you just can’t obey me, can you? I know he’s here. There’s no way he’d let his little lovebug come out here on her own.” Negan suddenly roared and his deep voice was so soaked with bone-chilling anger it completely paralyzed you. “Get the FUCK out here now, Daryl! Or I’ll shoot her in the fucking heart!”

Sweat was dripping into Rosita’s eyes as she peered through her scope. “Shit. Fucking shit!” The only thing she could see was you in the crosshairs. There was no way she could take the shot without risking hitting you instead.

And Daryl’s view was no better. His stomach had plummeted into the fucking depths of hell. When Negan roared for him to come out, the archer tried to think fast. What the fuck were his options? None. He had none. Maybe he could bargain for you. He’d go with Negan as his prisoner if he just let you go. He had to try. He had to try something. He was nearly hyperventilating. Calm. He needed to be calm for you if he was going to get you out of this.

“I’m not fucking playing games, Daryl!” As he roared angrily, his arm tensed and tightened around your windpipe.

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and drew in as deep a breath as the paralysis in his diaphragm would allow. Then he shouldered his rifle and grabbed your pistol instead, stepping out from the copse of trees with it aimed in Negan’s direction.

Negan laughed into your ear and then you felt his teeth on it, biting. You tried to recoil from him but his arm held you tightly in place. It was terrifying how the man could go from roaring in anger to chuckling like he was having the time of his life with the flip of a switch. Daryl was still a way off, approaching with your pistol aimed. “Who’s your other friend?” Negan hissed into your ear. “The one over in the trees to the right.”

How the fuck could he know? How the fuck could he possibly know?

“I asked you a goddamn question, Y/N, and I fucking expect an answer.” Another squeeze on your windpipe.

“Why does it matter?” you wheezed out.

“Hmm. Good point. I’ve got everything I need right here,” Negan said. He pressed the gun into your back, eliciting a painful hiss of air through your teeth.

“How’d you know?” you asked, your hands gripping his strong arm in an attempt to lessen the pressure on your neck.

“Because I fucking know everything. You should have learned that by now.”

You were up on your tiptoes and the way he was pulling you back arched you into him, pressing your body against his. You were repulsed by the feeling of him against you. He laughed again, seeming to sense that you were raking your brain trying to figure out how he knew Daryl and Rosita were there. “That boy Eugene can build just about anything when given the proper motivation,” Negan said. His voice was silky and low. “When you said you wanted to meet, I tasked him with coming up with a way to make sure you really came alone. And you know what that son of a bitch came up with? Modified a camera to read thermal heat signatures. Now, I’m not even gonna pretend to understand how the fuck that works, but he did it. So, all I had to do was pull up, turn that shit on, and survey the meeting place. And with little Dwighty-boy under my thumb there was no rat to run off and warn you! And wouldn’t you know, when I fired that baby up there were three human-shaped heat signatures instead of just one. You must really think I’ve lost my touch if you thought I was going to take you on your word…” Your whirling mind was interrupted by soft footsteps in the grass nearby.

“Let her go,” Daryl growled. He was close enough now that Negan could talk to him without raising his voice. Your pistol was still aimed at Negan in Daryl’s hand but with the way Negan was holding you, you couldn’t imagine that Daryl could actually get a clean shot.

Negan laughed heartily. “That’s cute. You do know I have a gun pressed into your dearheart’s spine, right?” You felt the muzzle of the gun leave you for a moment as he showed it to Daryl, but a second later the bite of the steel was back. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little Mexican stand-off!” Negan said. “But there is one thing I have that you sure-as-fucking-shit don’t. Leverage.” Negan leaned down and you felt his face in your hair. He drew in a deep breath and let it out dramatically. “Mmm-mm-mm! Smells sweeter than I remembered.”

The muscles in Daryl’s jaw flinched as his teeth clenched. “If ya let her go, ya can take me instead. Hell, ya can kill me right now,” Daryl said.

“Daryl! No!” Your eyes went wide and round with fear. “Daryl—” But Negan’s arm tightened against your throat and you fell silent.

“I’ll put this gun down and ya can kill me right now,” Daryl said again. “Just let her go.”

Negan was smiling a self-satisfied smirk and chuckled again. “Oh, how I love having you both by the short and curlies,” he laughed. “Now, why the fuck would I want to make a trade like that? I can get out of here with Y/N and fucking kill you later. Besides, the idea of me having little Y/N here,” he pressed the gun to your head and his arm unwrapped from around your throat and you felt his hand running down your side to grip your hip. “Me having her would torture you in ways I can’t even imagine. That’s so much better than just, pfft, shooting you in the fucking face.”

“Fuck you,” you spat at Negan. Angry tears were burning in your eyes but you were determined not to let them spill out. “You can take me but I won’t give myself to you ever again. And I know that’s the one rule you’ll keep. Willing ass only, right?”

The gun bit into your back again and Negan’s fingers swept the hair off your neck and then gripped around your throat. His hand almost reached all the way around your neck. “Oh, give it time, doll… The things I have in mind for you, you’ll be begging to be my wife again in no time, just to have some light, some sound, some warmth, something to eat besides tinned cat food. There’s something called learned helplessness. You ever heard of it, Daryl?” Negan’s voice was casual now, like he was having a friendly conversation over a beer. “These psychology researchers would deliver a tone before shocking rats in a cage. At first, when the rats learned that the shock came after the tone they’d try to escape as soon as the sound played. They’d scramble and run, looking for a way out.” Negan’s fingers drifted down from your throat and swept to your collarbone. “But eventually, when they realized they couldn’t escape, when the tone came, the rats would just freeze. They’d just wait for what was coming. They’d learned they couldn’t escape and they accepted it.”

Daryl’s hand started to shake a little with rage. If looks could kill Negan would have been dead ten times over. “I ain’t lettin’ ya take her. And ya won’t hurt her,” he growled.

“Now, why the fuck would you think that?”

“Because you’re obsessed,” Daryl growled.

“Ever heard the phrase ‘If I can’t have her, no one can?’” Negan’s tone was dark and for the first time you truly realized he might kill you. Your stomach turned. This was so fucking stupid. How had you been so fucking stupid? You were blinded by your desire to save lives, to protect the people you cared about, and to just get this whole fucking mess over with. “This is me. I’m Negan. If it ever comes down to me or someone else, even Y/N here, I will be the one to fucking walk away.”

“Daryl—Daryl, look at me,” you said. The archer’s narrowed blue eyes met yours. “Just shoot. Just shoot. You have to end this. It’s okay... Just shoot,” you said. “You can—you can shoot him through me,” your voice broke as you urged the words to fall from your tongue.

“Wow,” Negan exclaimed. “Holy fucking shit! That is some goddamn insane shit you just said, Y/N! Fuck me! No wonder I like you so much. That takes some massive gonads! Can you feel my cock getting hard?” he asked, pressing his pelvis into you. “Goddamn…” He let out a low whistle and looked up at Daryl, still laughing. “Oh, you can’t do that though… Can you, Daryl? Kill the love of your fucking sad, pathetic, little hillbilly life just to get the Big Bad Wolf?” Negan laughed into your ear again and you squeezed your eyes closed as you felt his breath on your neck. He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin just below your earlobe, knowing this must be killing Daryl to watch, and the stubble on his face was rough against your skin. “He can’t do that to you, baby. What the hell were you thinking spouting out that—”

But Negan never finished his sentence.

Daryl couldn’t explain it but despite the rolling boil of rage in his chest, or maybe because of it, time seemed to slow down in front of him and his hand suddenly had never felt steadier. He saw Negan as a target on the other end of the sight on the barrel of the gun and knew in his core that if he pulled the trigger at that exact moment that the bullet would find the intended target. And he squeezed off a round and watched through the hazy cloud of powder smoke as the bullet buried into Negan’s head.

What he hadn’t expected was the sound of a second shot.

It took him a moment to understand just what had happened. Had Rosita fired too? But as Negan’s now lifeless body crumpled beside Dwight’s, you fell too. Daryl expected you to bounce back up, to rush away toward him, but when you fell you just were lying there still on the soft grass.

Then he was a blur of movement and was beside you instantly on his knees. “Y/N? Y/N!” Your eyes were shut. Daryl’s hands immediately lifted you to cradle you against him, trying to rouse you, and that’s when his hand came away warm and wet and crimson from your back. He stared at it in a cruel realization. When he’d shot Negan, perhaps as some reflex on dying, Negan had squeezed the trigger of his gun and a shot had gone into your back.

Rosita was tearing across the field as fast as she could, her lungs on fire, and when she arrived beside Daryl on the ground she looked down in horror at your still body. “Oh my God. Oh my God,” she gasped. “Daryl—”

But her presence and voice seemed to snap him back to action. “Go get Negan’s vehicle. It’s closer. Go!” he roared. She pushed Negan’s corpse over and found the keys in his pocket before running as fast as she could to the waiting Jeep.

Daryl was still trying to rouse you. “Y/N! Y/N, open your eyes! Y/N, open your eyes dammit!” he roared. “Look at me! Y/N!” But your head simply lolled a little as he jostled you. He hesitated only one more second before pressing his fingers to your neck. Pulse. You had a pulse. He let out a rush of air, or maybe it was ripped from his lungs. “I’m not lettin’ ya die, dammit! Ya ain’t—ya ain’t dyin’ on me! I need ya!” He tore his shirt off. He lifted you enough to see the blood soaking the back of your shirt and dripping onto the grass beneath you and he pressed the bundled fabric of his clothing as hard as he could to the spot that seemed to be the origin of the crimson river.

The roar of an engine behind him pulled his eyes from your paling face and Rosita came roaring into view in the Jeep, which slid on the grass a little as she stomped on the brake pedal. Daryl stood, lifting you in his arms like you weighed nothing and Rosita hopped out to pull the back door open. The archer slid inside. Rosita rushed to grab the guns from near Dwight and Negan’s bodies and threw herself back into the Jeep, slamming it into gear and turning in the direction of Hilltop, her foot to the floor.

Daryl could feel your blood soaking through his shirt. Every passing moment his terror grew and you showed no signs of stirring. He cupped your face with his free hand, wincing as his fingers left smears of your own blood wherever he touched you. He huddled forward and pressed his forehead lightly to yours and Rosita could tell he was talking to you, whispering, but she couldn’t make out the words. Her stomach lurched every time she glanced in the rearview mirror.

She pressed her foot to the floor and the Jeep leaped over the pavement, but still she willed it to go faster…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl sat slumped over, his head in his hands, frozen. He vaguely registered a door opening somewhere behind him and he straightened up enough that he caught sight of his hands and saw the dried blood all over them. In some spots it was thick and flaking off while in other places it filled all the lines of his palms like someone had purposely painted it there, a red wash over his skin. He stared down at his hands, his vision going in and out, blurring and then sharpening, blurring and then sharpening…

The door opening had been Rosita entering the medical trailer. She hesitantly made her way over to Daryl and lightly touched his shoulder. He flinched, startled, and turned to look up at her with a dazed and desperate expression. She gulped and gave him a sympathetic look, her brow drawing downward over her eyes, but he didn’t seem to really be registering anything. He looked completely unlike himself. She pressed a damp cloth into his hands and he mechanically began rubbing away the dried blood on his skin, moving simply because she’d prodded him.

Her eyes drifted over to the bed Daryl was slumped beside and her throat constricted. It didn’t even look like you. Your skin was so ashen. Her stomach twisted. She should have stopped this—should have pushed back about the plan, but she’d been so blinded by her own hunger for revenge and this was where it had led. “Daryl—you should let the doctor give you something… some fluids, some medication—”

“No,” he croaked. The towel in his hands, now smeared with rusty red, fell to the floor carelessly.

Rosita gulped and rested her hand over the wrapping around the crook of her elbow absently. As if on cue, Dr. Carson appeared around the curtain divider. His eyes fell on you lying on the bed first and then drifted over to Rosita again.

“She probably is going to need another transfusion soon,” he said softly.

Rosita nodded. She, luckily, was blood type O negative, the universal donor. “Anything she needs,” she agreed.

Daryl’s eyes lifted and fixed on the doctor. “Why ain’t she awake yet?”

“Her body went through a lot of trauma with the gunshot and then the surgery… that with the medication, the painkillers, anesthesia still wearing off it could take a while.”

Daryl slumped again and rubbed his hands over his face.

Rosita glanced at Dr. Carson. “Can I talk to you?” she tilted her head away from the curtain divider and he followed her around it to the other side. “Tell me,” she said. “How is she? Really?”

“She lost a lot of blood. The bullet hit her right scapula and shattered it but that also stopped it from going clear through. If that had happened, she probably wouldn’t have even made it here. I was able to get the biggest bullet fragments out and I had to put in some plates to stabilize the area. My best guess is that everything will be fine. She’ll wake up, and except for some residual pain in that shoulder and maybe a little reduced mobility, in all likelihood, she’ll be just fine after she’s completely healed.”

Rosita wanted to heave a sigh of relief but she knew there was a qualifier. “But you’re saying there’s a chance she won’t wake up, that she lost too much blood,” she said.

“Yes. There’s a chance,” he said. “You should prepare him for that if you can.”

She shook her head. “There’s no preparing anyone for that,” Rosita said. “How long until we know?”

“If she doesn’t wake up in the next day or so I’ll start getting concerned,” he said quietly. “But all her vitals are trending in the right direction.”

“A day. Alright. Thanks,” she said. Dr. Carson breezed away and Rosita stepped around the curtain again. This time Daryl was right at the side of the bed and he had your left hand pressed between his, his eyes closed. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was praying.

Rosita pulled up a chair and set it slightly back from the bed you were in, feeling like she needed to be there but also needed to give Daryl some space with you. After everything their family had been through, all the people they’d lost, she’d never seen him like this. She was never a religious person, especially after the apocalypse, but at that moment, looking at how Daryl was with you, she sent a prayer into the ether.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl had finally collapsed on the edge of your bed out of pure exhaustion. His will had been strong to stay awake, to sit a vigil beside you, but his body eventually had other ideas and finally gave up.

But the slightest movement of your hand in his and he was sitting up stock straight, staring down at it and wondering if he was imagining things. His heart was hammering with renewed hope. There was a soft noise that fell from your lips and he knew he wasn’t imagining that. Daryl was instantly on his feet. “Doc!” he roared, and Dr. Carson was there in an instant. Daryl watched as a grin widened on the doctor’s face and he finally felt his body relax some.

Dr. Carson pulled a small penlight from his shirt pocket and clicked it on. You were moving your head a little on the pillow, but more than that, your left hand was squeezing onto Daryl’s and your grip was strong. “Y/N? Can you open your eyes?”

It seemed to take some effort but they fluttered open and Daryl gripped your hand in both of his and let out a gasp of relief.

Dr. Carson flicked the light over each eye and straightened up with a smile. “Normal pupillary response,” he said, grinning at Daryl. “How are you feeling?” the doctor prodded you.

You gulped and seemed to take stock of the moment. “Like hammered dog shit,” you rasped.

Dr. Carson and Rosita chuckled while Daryl let out a gruff laugh and squeezed your hand in his. He smoothed his fingers through your hair and you turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his.

“There you are. You’re here,” you said softly. Dr. Carson and Rosita, who was still hanging back, both stepped around the curtain divider to give you and Daryl a moment.

“Course ‘m here,” he drawled, still stroking your hair gently. “And so are you.”

Your eyes closed for a moment and you drew in a few deliberate breaths. “What—what happened? Negan—did he get away and—”

“He’s dead,” Daryl said. Your eyes snapped back over to his face. They were a bit round and unsure.

“What did you just say?” Your brain was a bit foggy. You wanted to be sure you had heard correctly.

“He’s gone. Dead. I—I shot him,” Daryl said. “With your gun.”

“You shot him,” you repeated.

“Mhm,” Daryl said, nudging his nose up in a nod at you.

You finally glanced over at your right side, the apparent source of the pain that seemed to be radiating in waves. Your arm was in a sling and fixed close to your body. “You shot him,” you said again. “What—what happened to me?” you asked. “Is my arm broken?”

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip anxiously for a moment. “When I—I shot Negan he squeezed off a round from that pistol he had. It went into your shoulder. Shattered your shoulder blade. Ya had to have surgery. Dr. Carson fixed ya up. Put some hardware in.”

You stared at him with your brow drawn slightly down but eventually nodded to show you understood. “So, I’m bionic now, is what you’re telling me.” There was a somewhat playful look in your eyes, but Daryl didn’t smile.

“Y/N—‘M sorry. S’my fault ya got shot,” Daryl said and you could hear the tension, the anguish in his voice. “Ya almost died. Ya coulda died…” Now his blue eyes turned downward and he couldn’t or wouldn’t look at you.

“How could you think this was your fault? If it was anyone’s fault besides Negan’s, it’s mine,” you said. You squeezed his hand as tightly as you could but you were feeling weaker by the second. “The whole plan was mine. And it was shaky at best but I—I didn’t care. I just thought I could end it. It’s not your fault. I told you to shoot him through me, remember?” Your voice failed and you leaned back into your pillow and closed your eyes. “I feel really tired…”

Daryl looked up at you again, guilt still swirling in his stomach. “You lost a lot of blood,” he drawled, his stomach twisting with fear again as he remembered how his shirt had soaked through with your blood and then it was running all over him and the back seat of the Jeep. “Just rest now, alright?”

But you forced your eyes open again and looked over at him. “What happened? With the rest of The Saviors?” Daryl could easily read the anxiety on your face but he shook his head.

“Rick and Michonne came back. With the scavengers. It’ll be over soon. Ya ain’t gotta worry,” he said, hoping to soothe your fears. “Everyone is safe back home. Some of The Saviors tried to get to Alexandria but those bombs you and Rosita wired up? Blew a bunch of ‘em to hell. Don’t worry about anything. Just rest.”

But you gulped and started to shift in your bed, grimacing with every movement but apparently determined. At first Daryl’s heart sank. It looked like you were moving away from him. But when there was as much space as you could create on the bed your eyes found his again before glancing at the created spot next to you, and he understood. “Come up here. Please,” you whispered. Your voice was a little raspy again. “I need you.” There were tears glistening in your eyes. It was settling in how narrow of an escape this was.

“I don’t wanna hurt ya,” Daryl said, worried about bumping your arm. The bed was narrow.

“Then get up here,” you said again. “Please.”

How could he deny you that? Daryl toed off his boots and very carefully settled in next to you on his side, facing you as you pressed back into your pillow. He rested his hand on your uninjured arm and studied your face in profile. Your eyelids were growing heavy again and each blink lasted longer and longer. “Daryl…”

God, his name leaving your lips was still the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard in his life. “Hmm?” he hummed, his finger drawing idle circles on your soft skin.

“I love you.”

Daryl’s breath caught in his throat and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get the words out without his voice breaking. He leaned up on his elbow and kissed you when you turned to look at him, gentle but yearning. “I love you,” he said quietly when he pulled back. “Now rest.”

And now, having heard those words and with the weight and warmth of him beside you, the familiar smell of leather and the outside air and smoke, you did.

_ _ _ _ _ _

A few days later You were sitting up in your bed with Rosita on one side and Daryl on the other. You fingered the cards on your lap and gave Daryl a long look. There was a pile of poker chips on the table beside you and you pushed them onto your bed and looked at Daryl again. “I think you’re bluffing,” you said. “All in.” You gave him a satisfied smirk. His blue eyes narrowed and stared back at you.

Rosita let out a scoff and threw her cards down. “I’m out. I fold,” she said, leaning back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Well?” you prompted Daryl. “Show ‘em.” You flipped your hand. “Two pair.”

Daryl let out a low growl and turned his over. “I got nothin’.” You laughed and grinned at him.

“I knew it!” You started to gather the chips up with your uninjured hand, piling them on the side table again, adding many more of Daryl’s to your stash.

“Considering how well she can apparently read you, it’s amazing it took the two of you so long to figure out you were crazy about each other,” Rosita pointed out.

Daryl shot a glare at her. “Ain’t quite the same,” he said.

The game was interrupted when Enid came around the curtain divider with a huge bouquet of tulips in her hands. “From Ms. Thompson,” she said, shuffling some things aside to make room for them.

You let out a small, uncomfortable groan. “Can you tell them to stop?” you asked Enid. “It’s getting embarrassing…” You trailed off glancing around at all the flowers and cards and other gifts covering every available surface.

The next second, as if on cue, Jesus stepped in with a loaf of some sort of bread in his hands eliciting another groan from you. “What the heck…” you trailed off. He laughed heartily.

“This one is from Mr. and Mrs. Devon. I think she said beet bread, but honestly I’m not really sure,” he said, setting it down and eyeing it uneasily.

The two of them, Enid and Jesus, were staring at you expectantly.

“…what?”

Enid grinned. “Are you in the mood for more visitors?” she asked. You gave her a questioning look.

“Uhh… I guess… as long as they aren’t bringing more strange vegetable loaves…”

“What about a lot more visitors?” Jesus prompted.

“What is—?” But you didn’t even finish your sentence before Aaron rounded the curtain, with Gracie in his arms. Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes immediately welled up with tears to see your dear friend. And he was actually smiling. “Aaron.” It was all you could get out. Daryl was looking at you fondly and got up from his place beside you to make room.

“I can’t even tell you, again, how mad I am at you for doing something so insane, but also how glad I am that you’re alive. And I wish I could hug you, just one giant bear hug, but I won’t,” he said, nodding at the sling on your arm. He adjusted Gracie in his arms and beamed at you, nodding. “It’s over,” he said.

You wiped away a tear that managed to leak onto your cheek. “It’s over.”

Aaron grabbed your hand in his and gave it a brief squeeze before moving down the side of your bed to stand by Daryl, who he did grab into a one-armed hug that made you laugh. The next thing you knew, the small area of the medical trailer you’d been occupying, already adorned with gifts and notes from the Hilltop residents who remembered you from your time there, was filling with… everyone. Daryl’s family, now your family, was filing in. Michonne, Sasha, Carl, Rick and Judith… all of them were there and whole, looking extremely relieved to see you awake and alert, but obviously also still worried about your condition. Maggie came in too. You glanced around at them, a little overwhelmed, and your eyes landed back on Daryl, who was standing at the end of your bed and had one corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile. He turned to look at Rick.

“Hey—Didya get it?” Daryl drawled.

“Oh, right. Carl, take Judith for a minute,” he said, handing off the bouncy little girl to her older brother. You watched, puzzled, as Rick disappeared around the curtain for a moment and then reappeared with a bag in his hands.

“Normally, we would have wrapped it better for you,” Michonne said, “but, you know, the apocalypse and all,” she joked.

“I wish we could honestly say it’s from all of us, but it’s mainly from Daryl,” Aaron said.

Rick set the bag down on the bed and you gave Daryl a questioning look as you managed to use your one good hand to unfurl the scrunched brown paper top and reach inside. You froze when your hand closed on a familiar feeling bundle. Your eyes zipped back up to Daryl’s face and the little smile he’d been wearing grew into a knowing smile at the look on your face.

“Are you shitting me?” you asked. Aaron let out a hearty laugh and it warmed you to hear it. You hadn’t heard him laugh since Erik’s death. You pulled out a sealed bag of coffee beans and stared at it, before glancing back at Daryl. “Where in the hell—” You upended the bag and poured out about seven more bags of coffee beans. “I don’t—what—” You shook your head in disbelief and grinned at the archer. “I mentioned this to you once… like… I don’t even know how long ago…”

Daryl shrugged and hummed a noise of acknowledgment.

“Where in the hell did you find these?”

“Figured that asshole probably had a stash of ‘em in The Sanctuary,” he drawled. “Asked Rick to go look. I was right,” he drawled.

You shook your head as you stared at him, your heart brimming, completely full. “I feel a little bad about rubbing how bad you are at poker in your face now,” you joked, eliciting laughter all around.

Rosita stepped forward and gave you a look. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, okay, maybe I don’t…” you said. “I don’t—thank you,” you said, glancing around at everyone. “This is—I mean, it’s just coffee but… thank you. And I’m just glad to see all of you.”

Dr. Carson poked his head in. “Alright. That’s enough excitement for one day. Y/N still needs to rest. Everybody out.”

Aaron gave your good shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passed. “We’re staying a bit. So, we’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, and Carol is on her way from The Kingdom.” You leaned back against your pillow and nodded, suddenly tired.

“Good. Tomorrow then.”

Everyone filed out except Daryl, who helped you repack the unexpected gift and clear away the remnants of your poker game. You sighed as he sank down in the chair at your bedside. “When can I get out of here?” you asked. “I want to sleep in a real bed with you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up again and he nudged his nose up in a nod. “Couple more days.”

“I can’t believe you found that coffee,” you said.

“Should last ya a bit, right?”

“Yeah, probably, like, a whole week maybe,” you joked. Daryl let out an amused huff and smiled at you. He grabbed your hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your fingers.

“I wanna sleep in a real bed with ya too.”

“You can go sleep in a real bed without me,” you said. He’d been sleeping in the chair beside you since you’d arrived and you couldn’t imagine that it was at all comfortable.

“Nah. I couldn’t.” He leaned up and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back eagerly.

Epilogue

“Shoulder sore?” Daryl’s voice behind you followed by the feeling of his arms around you and then his body pressing into yours. He’d caught you out on the porch, watching the rain, rubbing your shoulder absently with the other hand.

You nodded. “Little bit. Probably from the storm.” You had a mug in your hand and there were curls of steam drifting up from the surface. Daryl peered over your shoulder into it. It was coffee, and he smiled. “But check this out,” you said, moving your injured arm so your elbow lifted slightly above the level of your shoulder.

“Progress,” he said. You were still working on getting full range of motion back. Dr. Carson said you may never be back 100%, he’d had to reconstruct so much after the destruction by the bullet, but you were determined. Daryl swept your hair aside and pressed his face into the crook of your neck and left a kiss on your skin, breathing in your smell. You were wearing one of his old flannel shirts and he pulled it down to reveal your bare shoulder, leaving a kiss there, too. You leaned back against him, content. He could see the very end of the surgical scar and his fingertip traced it before his lips found that too.

“You know what I just realized?”

“Hmm?”

“We both got shot in the right side. Dwight shot you, Negan shot Dwight, you shot Negan, Negan shot me. It’s like some fucked up connected cube of shooting.”

Daryl let out a huff and shook his head. “But we’re the only ones left standin’.”

You set your mug on the railing and turned into him, facing him now, your expression pensive, matching his. “What are you thinking?” you asked him.

He shook his head. “Honestly? Nothin’.” His hands went gently to your lower back. “You?”

“I’d like to go back to bed with you,” you said. “It’s storming. We don’t need to hunt in this.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Ain’t gotta tell me twice,” he said. The next second he scooped you up in his strong arms and you laughed as he carried you back into the house and up the stairs, your mug forgotten outside. He set you gently down in bed, minding your shoulder, and then collapsed beside you, moving into you needily. His hands immediately slipped under your shirt and smoothed over your soft skin and you met his lips urgently with yours, tangling your legs with his.

Life since The Saviors was largely peaceful. There were still struggles. People needed things, the communities needed supplies… The walkers were still out there. But without the threat of Negan lurking somewhere in the shadows of your mind it felt like an entirely new world. It felt the way you had always felt when you were only with Daryl, but now it felt like it all the time. There was nothing else you could ask for. The two of you would have been content with each other and nothing else.

You knew there was likely to be another fight someday, but you also knew that the worst of your life was behind you. And Daryl had realized the same thing too. Neither of you could understand how in the middle of the fucking shitstorm of a zombie apocalypse, with the insanity of Negan, you had found each other and managed to make it through. It was something you talked with Maggie about a lot, and your heart ached that Glenn had been taken from her so cruelly, now knowing what they had because you had it yourself.

You were coming home after one such visit. Maggie and Jesus had made the trip and you all had gathered at Aaron’s, watching with delight as Gracie and baby Hershel cooed at each other. You found Daryl in the living room and gave him a curious look. He had an expectant expression on his face and you laughed and cocked an eyebrow at him. He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and ducked his head for a moment. “C’mon in here,” he said, his eyes flickering up to meet yours again.

“Okaaaay… you’re kind of freaking me out,” you said. You wandered over to him and his hands went to your hips reflexively. He seemed nervous but you couldn’t understand why. “What is going on?”

Daryl cleared his throat and then shoved a hand into his pocket. He opened his palm flat and you stared at what was sitting there. A delicate, silver ring. Your eyes shot back up to meet his. “I ain’t gonna get down on one knee or anything stupid,” he said, rubbing his free hand a little nervously over the back of his neck, “but, uhh, I want ya to be mine. Will ya?” He braved a glance back up at your face and caught the stunned expression melting away into a brilliantly happy smile that immediately sent his heart fluttering.

“Is that even a question? Daryl, I’m already yours,” you said.

“Well, I just… want to make it official,” he drawled. “If ya’ll have me.”

You gave him a somewhat teary smile and offered him your ring finger. He slipped it on. It was a perfect fit. “It’s official,” you said, grabbing him and sinking into a kiss. When you pulled back, you glanced down at the ring on your finger. “How’d you know what size? And where the hell did you find this?”

“I made it. Melted some shit down. Aaron helped me actually.”

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You’re telling me Aaron knew about this and managed not to give it away? Wow… That’s actually shocking.”

“Anyway, the size… I measured your finger with a bit of string while ya were sleepin’,” he admitted. “Ya know, s’funny, ya sleep much deeper now.” You gave him a look. You hadn’t had a single nightmare since the end of the war.

“Yeah, I wonder why that might be,” you said sarcastically. No Negan, and Daryl always next to you? A recipe for a perfect night’s sleep.

The End.

[yandere-sins]

How about a fairytale scenario? A prince/princess/royal is in love with a very uninterested darling who manages to run away and make a deal with a witch who turns them into a monster in an attempt to make their yandere leave them alone? Maybe the cure is true loves kiss but since they don’t love the yandere it never works? Idk I think it’s an interesting concept and it’s been stuck in my head for a while

Ooooh! I like that! Very good idea anon, thanks for sending it in ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

“My Beloved!”

The prince’s voice made you flinch as it shook you from your nap. As good as you could, you heaved your giant head in the opposite direction from the door, pressing your snout to the cold stone wall. Its smell and temperature weren’t pleasant anymore, now that you were... well, whatever creature the witch had turned you into. Your heightened senses didn’t make it easier, now that you could smell every speck of mold and hear the scratching of tiny bug legs skittering through the stones.

The heavy, silver chains all over your body and limbs didn’t help either.

“We found a cure!” he claimed, his voice as sweet as honey, caring and hopeful, and yet so, so revolting since you knew the person behind it better than anyone else. It was easy to fool a kingdom with a sunny smile and encouraging speeches, but the one person he’d never trick again with his rotten personality was you.

Teeth clenched, you tried to ignore him, hoping he might be discouraged by seeing you unresponsive to his words. There had been too many potions, too many plants, he made you digest which were supposed to ‘help’ you, that you’d never want to even open your mouth anymore. You never even asked for his help; you just wanted him to leave you alone! When you hatched the plan of how to escape this fanatic, being recaptured by him and held in the dungeon, far away from anyone except the prince and the magicians he hired to ‘help’ you, wasn’t a part of it. You still blamed yourself that you hesitated to injure him worse than just breaking his arm when he found you. That you hesitated long enough for a bottled potion to hit you, bringing you down into a deep slumber and allowing them to bring you back to your personal hell that was the prince’s castle.

“My Beloved,” he repeated, this time in a tender whisper while he sank next to your disfigured body, a gentle hand coming down onto the fur of your front leg, caressing it comfortingly. “We’ve been wrong so many times...” he lamented, but you could hear the smile on his lips as he continued. “But finally, we know, and it’s no potion nor herb that will turn you back into a human.”

So what is it? you were inclined to ask, though you kept quiet. Just so you’d know what to avoid in the future.

“It’s a true love’s kiss,” he swooned, following it up with a deep sigh of longing. Your stomach churned as you heard his solution to your ‘problem’, but all you could muster was a haughty huff, thinking how you’d never love him. This wouldn’t work, you were already aware.

There was no way you could love the person that tore you from your family for his own amusement. Who humiliated you in front of other nobles so he could have some giggles, and yet, when you decided to run away from his maltreatment, chained you into his private room, sobbing into your lap of how he cannot live without you after keeping you there without food and water for days. What was real and what was fake about him was a thin line to discern, but you had been forced to stay long enough with the prince to not trust even one word of his. He’d try to suck up to you with presents and food, promising the world to you. And then, the moment you said you didn’t like what he did, he’d turn his back on this love he swore to harbor for you, punishing you and threatening to hurt your family too if you’d ever break his heart again.

It was then that you figured out he was lonely, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but be scared of his actions.

“You know there is no one else, no human nor monster, that adores you as much as I do. Thus, I will lift this curse from you, my Dearest! There isn’t anyone else who can do it. Right?”

Hearing his question made you not want to move your head in his direction all the more. But even with one hand, the prince knew where to touch for it to be uncomfortable. That damn spot under your throat made you flinch when you felt his fingertips drag over it, and you raised your head as far as the chain holding you down allowed. Growling at him didn’t concern the prince at all as he scooted closer, his hand falling to the side of your head, his face burying into the soft fur that covered all of your newly-obtained body.

Secretly, you wished that someone would come to save you from all this. Not particularly your new monstrous form, but rather, the prince and his doings. You wanted a real prince in shining armor to come and kiss you, whisk you away on his pretty, white steed. Never to be seen again. That would be your dream. This act and tragedy had been going on too long, and you feared that as it was, it would never end in a happy ending for you.

The prince kissed you between your eyes, observing if anything was happening for a few seconds before his lips proceeded down your snout. After every caress, he stopped, watching if anything changed. As you glanced briefly into his eyes, you saw the frustration grow. It would have been easier if it had worked - you had to admit - for both of you. Because every kiss more he had to watch fail, the more he grew unrestraint, his expression darkening and teeth clenching hard while his hand began to shake from frustration, or perhaps anger already.

“Why is it not working?” he asked as if he expected you to answer him. However, if it wasn’t a growl or whine, your vocal cords didn’t speak the same language anymore. Surely, there would have been a lot you would have told him if you could have opened your mouth and spoken. But this way, and much to your own surprise, he had to figure it out himself.

“Is it because you don’t love me?” he asked, fingers tangling into your fur harshly. “That’s what you said, right? That you don’t love me.”

A short, desperate laugh escaped him as he looked up and stared down at you with wide eyes. “It’s supposed to be a true love’s kiss, don’t you understand? Are you too stupid to even understand that? Do you want to stay like this, looking like a rotten mutt? Do you hate me so much?”

His questions were unanswered, even as he yanked hard at your fur, a stinging pain shooting through your face. “Answer me!” he demanded, screaming it into the void that was the dungeon where no one but you and him resided. “Ha... Hahaha...”

His laugh was muffled by his hand tearing away from you and instead clasping over his face, making him take a deep breath. “That’s okay. You’ll have a lot of time to learn to love me. Or you rot down here, it’s your decision.”

Standing up, the prince left you behind, a pitiful pile of meat and hair, chained to the ground by the most expensive chains he could buy from all the money he possessed. How much did it anger him, you wondered, that even though he had everything, he couldn’t have you?

“Don’t forget.” Glancing over his shoulder, the heavy doors slowly closed behind him. “You can be with me forever, or you can die here alone. No one mourns such a hideous creature when it’s gone. Only I can love you as you are now, but you lack choices. My darling Monster.”

With the prince disappearing together with the light of the torches, you were cast into the darkness reigning in your new home. Alone, pitiful, quiet. Restraint and captured as nothing more than the beast of a kingdom. It was the same darkness that never let you forget who and what you were.

Nothing. You were nothing without the prince who walked in the light while being the darkness himself.

[candyflosstoxicity]

Wanna Be Your Setting Lotion

Endeavor x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Power imbalance. Unsafe sex. Creampie. Breeding kink. Breath play. Pain play.

Despite the sizable uptick in his popularity after triumphing over the High-End Nomu, Enji still felt that his ability to relate to the everyday civilians was sorely lacking. There was still some doubt amongst the masses that he could be a suitable replacement for All Might. As much as that stung his ego, Enji knew that their misgivings weren’t unfounded.

He had promised his son that he would become a hero that he could be proud to call his father, and that meant more than just saving lives. Enji had to work to build a relationship with the public, and be a hero that was not only powerful, but approachable and relatable.

So, with his secretary’s assistance, Enji reached out to the most highly recommended media relations agency in Musutafu and requested that they pair him with a very particular type of publicist. He made sure to specify that they had to be thick-skinned and prepared to undertake all the work that would come with being the publicist to the number one hero. Though he had certainly made some important changes within himself, he still didn’t know how to talk to people and didn’t want to send the publicist running for the hills.

That was how you ended up standing outside the Endeavor Hero Agency. The glass skyscraper gleamed brightly under the sun, and really impressed upon you that this was happening. You had been assigned your first hero, but not just any run of the mill hero and it honestly had you feeling nervous in a way that you never had before. It’s not as if you doubted your ability to manage and improve the Flame Hero’s public image, but this was a major assignment that could either launch your career into the stratosphere or sink it like a stone.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you walked briskly through the front entrance and into the main lobby, where you were greeted by the receptionist. You explained who you were and what you were there for, and she immediately hopped up from her desk in a panic and hastily led you to the elevator. It did nothing to quell your anxiety, because if his receptionist was losing her cool, what chance did you have against the man?

Upon reaching the top floor, the receptionist all but shoved you out of the elevator, giving you a hasty “good luck” while frantically pushing the button to close the door. You stumbled forward and were faced with a large, hardwood door. Having decided that you simply could not delay your assignment any further, you squared your shoulders, took decisive steps forward, and knocked on the door.

---------------------

That was several months ago, and you could say with hindsight that you were right to be anxious. While working for Endeavor was the best way to cut your teeth as a publicist, the man himself was...something fucking else.

It wasn’t just that he was physically intimidating, with his towering height and mountains of muscle. Honestly, you were able to quickly get past that and start working towards building a friendly, yet professional relationship with your boss. Except, he was the most tight-lipped, awkward person you had ever dealt with when he wasn’t in the process of saving lives. And when he was actually somewhat talkative, he was so intense that it left you flustered.

However, Enji always treated you with respect and courtesy, and when you did well, he told you as much. Heat would crawl its way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes whenever he would tell you, “You’ve done excellent work this week, (L/N)-san. Your efforts are appreciated.”

To anyone else and coming from anyone else, it might not mean much, but Todoroki Enji wasn’t just anyone. He had high standards for all of his employees, and you were no exception. Praise from him was hard to come by, and when it was directed at you, it made you feel some type of way.

It was obvious to everyone with a pulse that Enji was an incredibly attractive man. Indeed, every interview you scheduled for him with a female journalist found him being inundated with coy smiles, flirting, and pointed questions about his relationship status.

To be fair, you had asked him the same question, but only because it was important for you to know as the person who handled all of his public relations. It definitely wasn’t because you were lusting after your client and hoping that he was free to maybe, someday, knock your walls down.

Still, you had always prided yourself on being the consummate professional, so you refrained from asking any questions that were too personal. Even though you were so often alone with Enji in his penthouse office, with little to no interruption, and a lot of plush furniture he could fuck you on…

You shook your head sharply, your dark, curly hair moving with the motion. ‘Focus, bitch. Don’t be a goofy and try to fuck your boss. He would probably fire your ass before you could ask for a crumb of dick.’

It didn’t matter if you hadn’t gotten laid since you started working as his publicist; you were NOT going to fuck Todoroki Enji.

Little did you know, Enji was enduring his own share of suffering and sexual frustration. And he had no intentions of denying himself. For him, it was simply a matter of opportunity.

--------------------------

It was finally Friday evening, and Enji was more than ready for the weekend. After a solid week of double patrols, while squeezing in PR appearances that you had set up for him, he just wanted to sit down in his recliner at home and have a stiff drink. He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, finishing up some last minute paperwork on a report he needed to submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission by Monday.

Just as he put the final signature on the last page, you came bursting through his office door, without knocking, of course. Not that he minded; it was always a treat to see you, even if you were a bit...distracting. Your shapely legs carried you briskly towards his desk and he couldn’t help but admire how enticing they looked sheathed in your sheer stockings. He almost missed what you were trying to tell him, too busy imagining them wrapped around his waist.

“Endeavor-san, I’m sorry to disturb you right before quittin’ time, but I just finalized the details of your appearance on Present Mic’s late night radio show for next weekend,” you chirped with no small amount of satisfaction. Ah, right; Enji had agreed to make time for that, considering Mic was very popular with the young crowd and an appearance on his show would do wonders for his popularity with that demographic.

“He promised to keep it light and casual, and most of the time block will be spent playing some music that you both enjoy. I cross-referenced his playlist with the list you compiled, and y’all have some bangers in common. We’ll need to go over your note cards again, but I’m sure you’ve got that part covered by now.”

Your eyes were focused on the folder in your hands, flipping through the papers there as you went over the last minute details. Enji’s eyes were watching you, though, and he found himself struggling to give a damn about Present Mic or his radio show. Not when you were standing before him, a radiant vision of smooth brown skin and a halo of curls. How badly he wanted to sink his fingers into them and tug your head back, make you submit to him…

“Endeavor-san, are you listening?”

The question coming from your pretty lips, in that sweet, but sharp voice, was enough to finally get his attention. He tore his gaze from your petite frame and looked up to see your dark brown eyes staring at him sternly. Enji coughed and shifted in his chair, trying to subtly adjust his now rock hard dick.

“My apologies, (Y/N), I’m a bit worn out from this week,” he hastily assured you. “If you wouldn’t mind emailing those notes to me, I will look over them again this weekend.”

Your expression softened and you tossed the folder onto his desk before walking around to the side and perching yourself on the edge. Enji could practically feel the blood rush to his dick with you sitting so close to him, the scent of your perfume immediately clouding his mind. Your already short skirt rode up even higher and he had to force himself to look you in the eye, which he regretted shortly after.

“Have I been riding you too hard, sir?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly at you, thinking that you must be toying with him. But, your face was devoid of cunning, and you seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration from really anyone, especially not one of his employees.

“No, far from it. You probably take it a bit too easy on me, but you still produce amazing results. I would be completely clueless about this public relations crap if I didn’t have someone as bright and clever in my corner,” Enji rumbled, almost bashfully, the tips of his ears still pink from your accidental innuendo.

He had no way of knowing, but the feeling that Enji’s praise gave you was like a shot of adrenaline to you. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you quickly began stuttering and trying to downplay your contribution. However, Enji was having none of it and reached out to grab your anxiously fluttering hands, which had the desired effect of shutting you up.

But, Enji didn’t stop there. He was tired of you not giving yourself enough credit. More than that, he was tired of only being able to show his gratitude in words. So, he took advantage of your size difference and tugged you into his arms and then settled you on his right thigh, forcing you to straddle the muscular appendage.

“E-Endeavor-san?!” you squeaked out. Your tiny hands were encased in his much larger ones and even that small bit of skin to skin contact was enough to set a fire low in your belly.

“Please, call me Enji. It seems a bit formal considering the things I want to do to you.”

“And what exactly do you want to do to me, Enji?” Your voice was low and breathless, but he could see the excitement clearly in your deep brown eyes.

He released your hands and let his own wander down the curve of your sides to settle on your hips. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he engulfed the soft flesh there with a gentle, but firm squeeze. You gasped softly and instinctually ground down against the flexing muscles of his thigh.

Enji growled lowly in his throat and took one hand off your hip, and reached up to bury it in the soft curls that framed your gorgeous face. At first, he gently massaged the scalp with his fingertips, but when he felt you relax, Enji used the curls at your nape to tug your head back.

He loved how small you were in his arms, how easily he towered over you and controlled your movements. And there you were, gasping and squirming in his lap, letting him touch you in such a dominating way. It stoked a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while, urging him to make you fall apart under his touch.

“There are so many things that I want to do to this tight, little body,” Enji whispered against your throat. He placed a heated kiss there, followed by a gentle nip before continuing, “But, for now, I want you to ride my thigh.”

To his delight, you didn’t hesitate to start meekly rolling your hips forward, your skirt bunching up around your waist with the motions. Still, you seemed to be holding yourself back, and he was having none of that. Using the hand that was still gripping your hip, Enji forced you to press down harder and move faster. Getting the message, you braced your palms against his broad, solid chest and began grinding against him in earnest.

The filthy moans you let spill from your plump lips were music to Enji’s ears, and he struggled to refrain from just ripping your stockings off and sliding your down onto his aching dick. There would be plenty of time for that later, but in that moment, he wanted to make you felt just how appreciated you were.

“Come on, little sparrow, I know you’re close. I can feel you soaking my pants leg.”

The desperation and desire in his voice drove your lust even higher. That, combined with the friction of your nylon stockings against your bare pussy, had you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please, sir!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but he seemed to. And he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please what?”

“I...I want you to fuck me, sir! Please let me cum on your dick,” you pleaded with a breathless whine, never ceasing your wanton grinding.

“Oh, you will be cumming on my dick. But, first, you’re going to make yourself nice and sloppy for me.”

Enji gripped your hair tighter and pulled your head back until your spine arched. Now, your nails were digging into the skin of his pectorals, but he didn’t care because the end result was you humping against him with reckless abandon. No longer needing to guide your movements, he reached up and wrapped his other hand around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to make the blood rush to your head. That was just enough to tip you right over the edge.

“Oh, oh!” Your hips began to stutter slightly in their movements as your orgasm crept up on you. A scream that surprised you, but made Enji growl in triumph, was ripped from your throat as you bucked wildly through the peak of your release. Letting go of your tresses and throat, Enji pulled you gently into his chest and ran his hands soothingly down your back. As your body trembled and quaked through the vestiges of your orgasm, he murmured soft praises into the crown of your hair.

“You did such a good job for me, baby girl. I’m so proud of you and all your hard work. Are you ready for your reward now?”

Despite the fact that you had just cum your brains out, his words of praise had you moaning wantonly, your head bobbing lazily in consent. Enji wasted no time in standing you up between his legs, supporting your weight effortlessly as he slid his hands up your inner thighs towards the crotch of your stockings. A brief, but loud ripping sound echoed in the spacious office, and then you felt a cool breeze against your soaked lips. Enji took a moment to run a thick finger through your dainty folds, making you shudder and moan.

Enji considered having you ride him again, but a glance at the large sectional he had in the corner of the room gave him other ideas. Picking you up as if you weighed nothing, he carried you to the luxurious piece of furniture and laid you down on your back. He immediately covered your body with his own and locked his lips with yours, the kiss quickly turning heated. While your lips moved together with unrestrained passion, he busied himself with undoing his belt and slacks. Once he got them undone, he freed his aching length from the confines of his underwear, hissing at the sensation of the cool air hitting the too hot skin.

Pulling away from your soft warmth, Enji made you look him in the eye before he asked, “It seems a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is what you want?”

Thinking he was just being considerate, you smiled softly up at him and nodded in affirmation. He kissed you hard, one more time, before looking down to guide his more than impressive dick to your dripping entrance. As soon as he pressed the head in, you knew what he was really asking you before, which was whether you could handle being stretched to your absolute limit.

You threw your head back, pressing into the soft cushion underneath you, and struggled to breathe around the sensation of his girth splitting you open. It was a good thing he made sure you were wet enough beforehand, otherwise, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to take all of him.

Enji made sure to take his time pressing in and withdrawing, inch by inch, enraptured by the sight of your pretty pussy stretching around him. It was a couple minutes more before he was fully seated inside you, the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix. He paused his movements to press sweet, but rough kisses along your jaw and collarbones. You reached up and buried your fingers in his hair, applying the barest pressure to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your foreheads together.

“I’d really like for you to move now,” you panted softly. Sure, it was quite the stretch having him inside you, but it didn’t hurt and you were still filled with a burning desire to be wrecked by the giant hovering over you.

Withdrawing slowly, so slowly, Enji paused again to watch your face as he gave a quick, experimental thrust. The cry of pleasure you let out snapped his resolve to continue taking it slow, and he began to fuck into you with a vigor. All you could do is tighten your grip on his red locks and hold on for the ride.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking into you like this, making you my little cumdump?”

Enji was actually caught off guard with how visceral your reaction was to his dirty talk. He didn’t think it possible, but you became even tighter around his dick, nails biting into his scalp, as well. You began trying to thrust back up against him, but he was having none of that. Enji pulled back just enough to take your legs and throw them over his shoulders so he could put you in a mating press.

“Oh gods, yes, just like this, Daddy!” you wailed loudly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure from his rigid member rubbing against your velvet walls with the new angle.

A groan that sounded like a snarl rumbled in Enji’s chest at the sound of your fucked out voice calling him ‘Daddy’. It made him want to grind his dick deeper into you, until all you could see, feel, or taste was him and the pleasure he was giving to you.

“Fuck, if you call me that again, I’m going to fucking cum and I’m not going to pull out.” He expected you to object, or something but instead, you attempted to pull him in closer with the strength of your legs alone.

“Please, please, please fill me up, Daddy! I want it all, please, give it to me!”

Pace quickening at your filthy words, Enji leaned forward until you were practically pressed in half and his thrusts had the tip of his dick bumping your womb with every plunge deeper. You were unable to even scream, the air knocked from your lungs and your brain foggy with thought-warping ecstasy.

“Goddammit, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. I’m gonna fill you up to the brim. Gonna make you round with my child. Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod frantically, incoherent pleas and his name spilling from your drooling mouth in an endless stream. You would do anything, say anything, just to feel his hot cum paint your walls.

From the way you were clenching and pulsing around him, Enji knew that you were close to the precipice again already, and he was ready to tumble over right along with you. Letting go of the last bit of restraint holding him back, Enji captured your lips in a searing kiss and swallowed your cries of passion as he began to piston into your tight heat, chasing his orgasm and hurtling you towards yours.

A shrill scream muffled by his lips and the sharp tightening of your walls around him signaled to Enji that you were cumming, and he quickly followed after you. His powerful hips stuttered once, twice before he drove his entire length fully inside you and stilled, his head pressed to the opening of your womb. Much hotter than you were expecting it to be, spurts of cum that seemed endless gushed deep inside you, prolonging both of your orgasms to the point of over-sensitivity.

When you both finally came down and got your breathing under control, Enji slowly pulled out from you and gently eased your legs off his shoulders. He gathered you up in an embrace and flipped the two of you over so that you were laid on top of him, head resting against his chest. Again, he stroked your back and sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise and comfort.

For your part, you were fucking wiped, your heart still racing and brown skin dewed with sweat. You could feel cum leaking out of your abused hole, but could hardly be bothered to care with exhaustion and satiation weighing so heavily on your eyes.

With strong arms wrapped around you and every bone in your body feeling like marshmallow, you snuggled closer to Enji and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart in your ear.

[milliedazzledust]

Unspoken (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request by @screechingdreamercollectorsblog : the reader lost all her family and also a twin sister. She’s in love with Bucky but he doesn't know and no one knows her story except Steve but he never told it as it was her decision. One day Wanda tells her "you don't know what it’s like to lose somebody especially a twin." And Reader said "Actually I do." And then She walks away. Bucky heard It and goes to talk to her and also they confess each other feelings. Also She starts an amazing friend ship with Wanda.

Words: 3183 words

A/N: So many ideas, I feel like this needs to be a several part story. Thanks for the request, this was fun to write -

She thought a lot about her family. The memory of their death, the circumstances that led to it, the guilt. It was all a constant reminder, every day, of what she lost. She often felt like she was walking with a shadow on her back, consuming what was left of light, making her into this gloomy person everyone was so afraid to get close to. In a way, she was glad. Her guilt made her believe living this way was her sentence and she couldn’t allow anybody else to carry her burden. One person knew though, the only hope on her pathway. Steve Rogers. He hadn’t been bold enough to ask her up front but instead waited, close enough so she knew he was there, until she was ready to confide in him. Late one night, he had found her crying on the rooftop of the Avengers tower. Silently, he had put a blanket on her shoulders and had sit next to her. Without looking at him, she had told him everything. There had been no judgment from the Captain, not even a look of pity. He promised he wouldn’t tell a soul and after that, she grew closer from the man she considered now family.

That’s how Steve picked up on what was happening in front of his eyes before anybody else. Everyday, he would catch Bucky’s eyes lingering on her. The Soldier often asked Steve about her, he could guess the sadness behind every broken smile. Behind her cracks, he could almost see his own. She reminded him a lot of what it had mean to become the Winter Soldier, of the pain his mind had endured as Hydra tore it into pieces. While he was curious of her past, he also understood that whatever it was, she hadn’t dealt with it. The grief was evident and he wanted nothing more than to help her anyway he could, but every time he took a step toward her, she took three more backward. Steve assured him it wasn’t his fault. They both could see the internal struggle within her, the raging battle between self-inflicted pain and sheer will to live again. So far, she hadn’t give in and instead opted for an illusion only Steve and Bucky weren’t falling for.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the overbearing weight of grief. That specific day marked the one year anniversary of their battle in Sokovia. There was an eerie, gloomy atmosphere inside the compound. For the Avengers, it was the reminder of a difficult battle, of many lives lost, of victory. For Wanda Maximoff, it was the day she lost her brother. She had barely left her bedroom and no one dared go speak to her. Natasha and Vision had gone to see how she was doing but she had refused the company. They could all hear her crying and had collectively silently agreed that it was better to let her process her feelings alone. Y/N was debating wether she should follow their example. She had been standing close to Wanda’s bedroom door for the past hour when she felt a presence next to her.

“You should go talk to her” She heard someone whisper.

She turned her head, her eyes landing on a pretty concerned Captain.

“Wil it really make a difference ?” She asked.

“She’s hurting” Steve answered. “Just like you”

The woman dropped her head.

“I’m not sure, I .. I won’t know what to say”

“You’ll know exactly what to say, Y/N. You’ve both lost a lot”

“So have you. So have everybody here”

He sadly nodded.

“Why does it have to be me ?”

“Because we’ve all grieved. We made peace with whatever happened to us. We don’t feel sadness, anger or guilt just thinking about whomever we lost.” He explained. “You do. Just like her.”

She pursed her lips.

“I can’t pretend to understand, Y/N, because I don’t. I see the mountain that is your pain everyday when I look into your eyes. And, behind this door is a friend who’s going through the same loss you’ve experienced. Even if you haven’t dealt with the death of your sister, you know what it was like for her to lose Pietro, to live without him, to not be capable to let yourself be alive when half of you isn’t anymore”

Hearing his words was enough to reopen the gigantic wound inside her chest. She knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, encouraging her with a soft smile.

“Alright. I’ll go”

She glanced at Wanda’s bedroom before looking back at Steve and swallowed the lump in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she closed the distance and knocked. Not waiting for an answer, she walked inside. She knew if she had ask Wanda, the Witch would have let her wait without an answer until she left.

The young woman was sitting on her bed, her gaze drifting into space. Y/N wasn’t sure she had even acknowledge her presence. All she could see was her soul bleeding an ocean through her eyes. When she sat next to her on the bed, Wanda tried to brush the tears away but it was useless. She couldn’t stop crying.

“I’m sorry you lost him” Y/N whispered.

She cursed under her breath, knowing those were in no way comforting words.

“If you came to tell me you understand, you can leave” She replied with a thick accent.

For a moment, Y/N did not say a word. She was thinking hard of something that could appease her friend, but her mind was blank.

“Are you also going to ask me if I’m okay” She heard Wanda say.

“What is the point ? I know you’re not”

She sighed.

“I’ve always hated that question. How are you suppose to know how you are if all you can feel is emptiness… It’s easier to say yes, put on a smile and turn your head”

“Is that why you’re here ? Are you expecting a yes or the truth ?”

“I already know the truth”

Wanda humorlessly chuckle.

“Are you going to pretend you know what I’m feeling ?” She told her with irony

“That’s the thing. I don’t need to pretend”

She felt her friend tense beside her.

“You should leave”

“Wanda…”

“No!” She shouted, getting up to put a distance between them. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m gonna be alright! I don’t need to hear it will hurt less with time, that I will forget ! Because I won’t, okay, I won’t!”

She started sobbing. For a split second, Y/N thought about hugging her, but she knew that this wouldn’t be a good idea. When her sister died, she couldn’t bear the hugs. They were so full of light and hope, such a bright contrast to the dark that was surrounding her. So she stayed on the bed, and watched her friend break down. Wanda needed the pain, she needed the anger, because they would inevitably lead to the last stage of grief. To life.

“Stop pretending to get this … this torture, because I can assure you, you don’t” Wanda vehemently told her, pacing around the room. “My heart is broken, okay ? It’s … It’s shattered. Not even in pieces, because he took those with him when he died.”

“Wanda …”

“No! You don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody !” Wanda yelled back. “Especially a twin!”

“Actually, I do”

Wanda instantly stopped walking and turned back to her friend, surprised. She watched Y/N playing with her hands, trying to keep the tears at bay, her eyes fixed on her lap, refusing to catch a glimpse of pity when she’ll start talking.

“It.. It doesn’t stop. The pain, I mean. It’s like this overbearing weight that crushes you every single minute of every single day. And when you get a moment to breath, a moment where you don’t feel your heart might explode of sadness, you feel guilty. So all that’s left of you now is pain and guilt. I can’t tell you it’ll get better, because it never did for me.”

She brushed the tears on her cheek as Wanda slowly sat back next to her.

“The world stopped when I lost her, my twin I mean” She continued, starring into space. “And I try, I swear I try to make it work again, but to this day all I keep asking myself is why her … why her and not…me. She was so much stronger than me, she deserved …”

A sob escaped her lips, preventing her from speaking.

“Steve told me I would be able to help you, because I understand your pain. But I can’t. What good would it do to you if I told you I feel like dying every time I think about my memories of her ?”

She humorlessly laughed.

“What good would it do if I confess I don’t want to live because I’m scarred of forgetting ? That I can’t breathe because each breath feels like I’ve cheated death ? That I’m becoming a void of darkness silently sinking ?”

They stayed silence before Wanda’s hand slowly came to hold hers. They spent a short moment without talking. Two woman with broken soul that understood each other on a level no one else’s could.

“You know ..” The Witch started to mutter. “Vis’ told me something once, and it stuck up on me ever since.”

“What was it ?”

“What is grief, if not love persevering”

A tear roll down Y/N’s cheeks, the words stabbing her right through the chest. Suddenly, she was up on her feet, alert and disoriented. This was sheer pain like she had rarely known, wide open scars bleeding through her soul.

“I can’t” She breathlessly told her friend. “I … I’m … I’m sorry Wanda I ca..”

And she fled the room. As soon as she stepped outside of it, she bumped into a muscular chest. Stopping in her tracks, she looked up. That’s when she saw it, what she dreaded the most. A look of pity. Bucky was standing in front of her, searching her eyes, his mouth open like the words were on the tip of his tongue yet he couldn’t voice any of them. He raised an arm toward her, a reflex to comfort the woman he cared the most about, but she was gone in a second. He turned back to glance at Wanda. The woman sadly smile and shook her head.

“Go get her” She simply told him.

And just like that, he was gone. He started by her bedroom, but she wasn’t there. He went to the lab, asked Tony and Bruce if they had seen her, but she wasn’t there. He passed by the gym, than their living room, but again, she was not there. He was almost running inside the building, going anywhere he could think of, but there was no sign of her. He was very frustrated when he crossed path with his best friend.

“Wha …” Steve started to ask.

“Y/N” Barnes only answered, almost out of breath.

The Captain hummed, watching his distress, knowing it was a bad time to ask him about it.

“She’s on the roof”

Bucky didn’t wait, not even hearing what Steve said next, and fled. He didn’t take the elevator and rushed up the stairs. It was a long way up but he did not care. All his mind was focused on was closing the distance between them. Finally, she was there. Sitting on the edge of the building, the sun shining so bright above their head.

“Please tell me you were not thinking of jumping” He said, half joking.

She didn’t turn around to look at him. She had felt his presence before he was even near her.

“The thought crossed my mind” She admitted.

He didn’t want to know if she was joking. Quietly, he stepped next to her and sat on the border, his legs dangling in the air.

“What happened ?” He inquired.

“I just … I thought I could help Wanda and…”

“That’s not what I’m asking” He cut her. “What happened to you Y/N ?”

She pursed her lips, turning for the first time to look back at him. She was almost expecting to see the pity in his eyes, but instead it had been replaced by worry.

“I had a family before the Avengers”

“A family you’ve lost” He guessed.

“…Yes. I couldn’t save them”

He raised his head toward her. She could see the millions of questions he had behind his stare. He was too polite to ask her but she knew he wanted to know. So she turned back to look at the garden in front of the compound, focused on the daisies Tony had insisted to have, and started to tell him her story.

“My parents were … scientists. Experts in genome manipulation. They were working for the government, for Shield. They discovered something important, something they wouldn’t tell us anything about. They started to get edgy, paranoiac, always looking over their shoulder. Whatever it was they found, they were scared. We fled America at the time. My sister and I, we didn’t understand what was happening, we didn’t get that … that they knew they were gonna die. That they were trying to keep us alive”

“What did they find ?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here”

“I don’t understand”

She closed her eyes, remembering them.

“They experimented it on me”

“What ?”

He was shocked.

“We were in Stockholm at the time. One night, they took me to their lab, they said they needed me to work. I was seventeen, just so happy to be with them, so I said yes. Four days later, I woke up alone, surrounded by ashes and no memories. I found …” She stopped for a second, her lips quivering. “I found what was left of their bodies. My sister was there too. All of them, dead.”

Tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“I was convinced I killed them, I couldn’t move, I was just … stuck. So I stayed there, laying on the ground, next to their bodies, until Tony found me.”

“That’s how you came to live with Stark”

“Yes. He took me in, changed my name and my story, made me swear to never talk about this”

“Why ?”

“He helped me figure out what happened that night. My parents did succeed in their experiment. They made me … enhanced. That’s what they called it anyway”

“They gave you your powers” He guessed.

“Yes. The same day, Shield found them. While I was under, they put a bullet in their head. My sister was supposed to be sick, at home. But she sneaked out and hid in the lab. She just wanted to be with us. Shield tried to make it seen like it was an accident, a malfunction”

“An explosion”

She nodded.

“Yes. They blew up the lab, with all of us in there”

“But you didn’t die”

“I absorbed the blast”

“Oh…”

She brushed the tears off her face, looking at her trembling hands. It was useless to try to make them stop.

“I never found out who was behind their assassination, or what I am suppose to be”

“What you’re suppose to be ?” He repeated, surprised.

“They put their secret inside me, that’s how I came to be. But what is it, and what am I?”

He frowned, his mind working a thousand miles an hour.

“Do you really think this changes who you are ?” He asked her.

“I lost my identity, Bucky. I lost the person I was. Those powers, they turn me into something I’m not”

“Are you saying I’m the Winter Soldier? That I’m … not a person anymore but a program design to kill ?”

He knew the answer to that question, but he needed her to understand.

“Of course not!” She vehemently answered.

“This is the same fight, Y/N. Hydra might have wiped out my memories, but Bucky Barnes reappeared each time they tried to erase him, because this is who I am. My strength, my arm, my alter-ego, they don’t define who Bucky is. The kid that grew up in Brooklyn does”

“Do you really believe that ?”

“I believe we’ve been broken. But it doesn’t mean we can’t be fix”

His metal arm moved to hold her hand. When she turns around to look at him, he gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with his human hand before brushing his fingertips on her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I don’t know how many times you’ll need to hear this, Y/N, but we’re not beyond repair” He whispered.

A shiver ran up her spine at his whole demeanor. His shoulders held high, his eyes boring into hers, all she could see was his rage to live, his will to rebuilt stronger foundations around their broken pieces. No it was not pity anymore, nor was it worry. All she saw now was admiration.

“You and I, we are survivors” He said with force.

He was a warm light she had yearn to feel, fresh air she thought would never touch her skin again. Wordlessly, she laid her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes. She didn’t want this feeling to go away and wished to hard she could bottle up this moment with him forever. They stayed like this, her body against his, his hand entangled in her hair, his chin resting above her head, and for a moment none of them spoke.

“Why do I feel so guilty to have you” She muttered so low he almost didn’t hear her.

“Because you know I can bring you peace” He honestly answered next to her ear.

“If I let you in, if I take the risk to be hurt again and I lose you…”

“You won’t”

“You don’t know that for sure”

“I know I’ve got strong feelings for you, and they won’t go away”

“And I feel the same, but we’re gonna get hurt”

“Isn’t that what love is about ? Navigating between feelings so loud they can’t be shut down, even after death. Stop being so afraid to keep on living, Y/N.”

“Bucky …” She called, slowly raising her head to look at him.

“I’m not giving you a choice, doll.”

Before she could talk herself out of this, he closed the short distance between them and laid his lips on hers. Suddenly, what was a flame became a raging fire in the pit of her stomach. She could feel her heart pumping all the way to her ears, feel the tingling sensation of his fingertips against her skin, a sense of peace finally. This was raw emotions they were sharing, sparks of electricity they were making as their lips were moving. Their own world they were creating. A promise they were sealing.

“You’re gonna be okay” He assured her, kissing her forehead.

“Promise me you’ll stay, Bucky”

“For as long as you’ll let me” He finished.

She looked up at him with hope.

“I promise”

[thefanbasewhore]

hmmm.. you should do the ship getting raided while mando is out getting a bounty, and scared com link talk 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🤲

I love this idea so much. Thank you for the idea, I hope you enjoy it! 

Summary: Din leaves reader to get some extra rest while he heads to the market place for some supplies. Reader is left alone while a few smugglers raid the ship.

Warning/Content: Suggestive (18+), soft Din, kidnapping

Paring: Din Djarin/Female Reader

Part 2

“Din?” The soft question catches his ears as he leans over the edge of the bed, trying to be quiet as he peers over to meet the sleeping beauty. One side of her cheeks is taunted pink, beautiful. It’s all he can think, how lucky he is to have this beautiful woman in his bed, the blanket pulled to her chin but as result from last night, there’s no doubt she’s naked underneath them. 

There’s something about the haze of sleep, looking innocent, sweet under his  gaze. Watching his girl shift slightly with a wince that comes from between sore  legs, blanket exposing the smooth skin of her neck, revealing dips of collarbones that suddenly felt the urge to run his tongue along them, reach lower and lower until he’s barried in the heat between her legs, sweet claims of his name falling from swollen lips much like the night before.

He ignores the sudden throbbing in his groin, leaning over the lay a soft kiss to her temple, brown eyes meeting seeking her own. His hair messy, sprawling across his forehead with small ringlets of dark strands as she reaches out to touch the base of his cheek, closing his eyes shut as fingers run across the patches of hair there with a smile. 

“Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired anymore.” The hand that presses against his chest makes him flush, pulling him closer to lay a soft kiss against his lips. He doesn’t get the chance to pull away he feels a smooth, wet tongue run across his lip seeking the familiarity of his mouth. 

It takes every ounce of self control the pull away slowly, his tone is sugary, low with desire that swirls his stomach. “Was last night not enough?”

After spending weeks apart the result of rather troublesome bounty, he came back and made up for every day he was gone, taking her on every surface he could manage on the ship. 

“I’ll never have enough of you, riduur.” He tenses and takes in a deep breath, watching as fingers find his hand, pulling it towards her mouth, where she places his thumb and sucks greedily.

Despite the throbbing of his erection that so uncomforted pressed heavy against his thigh he lets out a sigh. His body flushed for her, wanting nothing more then to give into it but he noticed the way she flinches, there’s no surprise she’s in pain. The roughness of his fingers still ghost when she moves to get comfortable, it’s shown on the way her face pinches. It’s a delicious pain. 

Din frowns lightly, shifting to press a soft kiss against her forehead. “Get some more rest, pretty girl. Me and Grogu are going to get some supplies before we take off, I’ll be back three hours max.”

“Mmmmm.” She can’t help fluttering eyelashes, the promise of more sleep is too strong as Din stands, reaching out to cover the the tempting skin with one last kiss to her forehead before entering the refresher to fix the problem that throbbed between his legs.

***

Through blurry vision she yawns, blinking eyes until her vision starts so clear only to meet the high ceiling of the ship, the loud humming vibrating underneath inside the small room. It wasn’t much later after Din left, the fresh, clean smell of his soap still lingers throughout the ship. It’s soothing, the familiarity of his scent brings comfort, makes her feel safe.

But that’s before she hears muted voices, deep voices that echo outside of the room. There’s banging, things falling onto the ground with a loud bang as they tore through the ship. Her chest pauses to listen closer, foot steps growing closer and closer as she crawls across the bed to reach for her glove, pulling to her face before whispering. “Din, Din, please answer.”

It’s almost instant, his tone dangerously low at the desperation in her voice as she presses the ear piece into her ear. “What? What is it baby?”

“There’s someone in the ship.” The words make him freeze in his spot, momentarily freezing as his heart starts to pound against his chest. The bags drop from his hands onto the floor with little care.

“Hide, find somewhere and hide. I’m coming.” There’s no answer as the jetpack lifts him off the ground of the forest. His next words were desperate as a surge of energy pushes him further, hands trembling as he presses the side of his helmet with hopes of hearing her better. “Answer me.”

“I’m here.” She whispers, “In the closet they’re coming, they’re trying to break down the door but I blocked it.” Squeezing her eyes shut with every heavy thump against the door, the room shaking with every movement. 

“I’m almost there, I’m coming.” He promises, breathing heavy with the weight that crushes his chest, latching the bag where the child sleeps in leaving him with little distractions except for getting to his wife.

There’s a loud noise on the other side of the com, he hears the way her breath hitches. He tries to concentrate but the sound of things hitting the floor or wall for all he knows makes his heart stop, “Din he’s coming toward the door, he’s going to find me.”

“I’m almost there riduur.” 

Dread numbs his whole being as he ears her scream. “No, No.” He cries, “Baby, Can you hear me? Answer me. Please.”

There’s nothing but a loud rip and the curses that fall from her lips with the obvious rustling of fighting as a moan of pain fills the ear piece before it all goes silent until a loud ring squeals in his ear, a loud painful groan as his head starts to pound as he yanks it out.

By the time he reaches the ship, he’s on edge, heart stuttering as the blaster shakes in front of him as he expends into the hull but it met with nothing but scattered, useless belongings pulled from the deepest confines of the ship. The bedroom door is broken, pulled from the hinges as his stomach dropped.

Walking through the door the first thing he noticed is the comlink is in pieces next to the closet with no doubt crushed under a heavy boot, but what really made his eyes water is the torn shirt on the floor, small splatters of blood but his wife is no where to be found. 

tags:

@victias

@altarsw

@coonflix

@mudhornchronicles

@buckysalefty

@capsheadquarters

@godohammers

@ilikemymendarkandfictional

@rogertaylorsfalsettogivemehives

@maileecabudol

@itsfangirlmendes

@mermaidbrina

@nikkixostan

@moonlightnumbsthepainifeel

@dinsbeskar

@est19xxshit

@owloveyounever

@engie115

@impala1967666

@akatasukilove

@nerdalert-andi

@winter_rxn

@Sporadicshoebailifffish

@thatonedindjarinfan

@you-and-i-deserve-the-world

@mailee420

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt14

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10 Pt11 Pt12 Pt13

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature.

Previously

“Make sure you save some for the three, we wouldn’t want to be in their bad side, if they came back hungry and expecting food waiting for them.” Belphie tells the others, and thinking what taking the older brothers too long to get back.

“So…… The question is Leviathan, are you willing to use that book. Just because we’re near a lake that doesn’t mean you can fit in it! Remember your form is the biggest out of the seven of us”

“I. DON’T. CARE! you two can’t get along even in old selves, Now I WILL use this if I have to.”

Just on Lucifer’s first reaction on seeing Levi hold the book, Mammon immediately knows that book is something shouldn’t be use lightly.

Lucifer and Mammon both have the same thought. GET THAT BOOK AWAY FROM LEVI! Lucifer can talk Levi out of this, while Mammon is waiting for a moment to strike.

Lucifer took a deep breath, and calm himself and stood straight, and reach out with his hand at Levi “Levi, give me that book….” As he slowly walks towards him but then a voice screams at him

Don’t beg you fool

Every ounce of his mental and emotional control is slowly slipping away.

“Leviathan…... PLeASE….” He’s voice started to fluctuate from his normal to his demonic one, trying to hold his frustration of this whole situation he grins his teeth so hard that it starts to bleed as he waits for Levi to hand over the book. He was hesitant for a moment but seeing Lucifer like this, hurt him.

As he about to hand over the book, in a spilt second Mammon tackle and pined Levi on the ground, leaving the book on the ground as Mammon main focus was making sure that Levi didn’t utter a word of the spell from the book and end up like Lucifer. Speaking of which.

“MAmmON……” Both brothers quickly whip their head toward the eldest “WaTcH….. OveR …..ThEM….”

“Lucifer! What are you? ~” before he could finish, a shadow engulfs Lucifer as he sinks into the ground, Mammon quickly knows what’s going and rushes to stop him from leaving.

In that moment Mammon can see a tear fall from the corner of his brother’s eye and mouthed I’m sorry, before complete disappearing into the shadows.

He was too late, once he got there the shadow disappear under his feet. Mammon shrike at ground where Lucifer was standing a second and start digging into it, hoping find Lucifer.

“Lucifer. Lucifer. LUCIFER!!! You can just do this! LEAVE!!” all the emotion of not wanting be near him were instantly gone and replace with worry, anger towards himself and desperation to keep Lucifer from leaving them.

After ten minutes of digging a hole that can fit a person in Mammon stop and pants heavily, not because of digging he did but with his heart is beating fast and need to calm himself.

This isn’t what he wanted; he wants space away from his brothers so he could finish this whole thing. Not Lucifer leaving and dealing with demonic self on his own, and not tell him or Levi where his going. And there’s Levi who he took a quick side glance to see how’s his little brother is doing; not great, Levi has both hands at his eyes pushing the palms into them trying to hold back the tears and failed at it as he lay on his back blaming himself for was happening.

“I can’t have Levi like this, crap Lucifer, you pompous ass! you’re really leavin’ me in charge in like this!” he refuses to let this happen, sure at times he wandered what would happen if Lucifer disappeared, and he was left in charge. In short no so good, he can’t imagine all the responsible and work goes with not to mention, the others won’t listen to him. He might not say it or denied it but he would tell Lucifer that he is first born for a reason and he accepted that.

Right now, he has to step up and fix this. First, he has to change back, the question is how?

All he remembers what the beast said to him, that its going take time to change back, but maybe could try, at least he can try.

He tries to focus on changing back, like the way he did in his demon form. Then he felt a slight pain on his arm and stop for a moment.

“Shit! That hurt, but I think it’s workin’ I just have to bear with it. I can do this!!”

He went back on focusing on changing back, by each pasting second, he can feel his bones shifting and the wings on his arms which has been there for a week, slowly moving on its own like it use to then without warning his arms and wings tore apart from each other causing him shrike in pain catching the attention of Levi, who was shock and called out to Mammon, but he keeps going. Soon he stood on his hind legs and his body started to shirk a little bit, and with one final break his back straight up and he fell on all four exhausted from the change, he pants to catch his breath.

Levi quickly rushes over to Mammon’s side and start rubbing his back to comfort him.

“Mammon, a-are you, o-okay?”

“Yeah…... I’m-I’m okay” startle Levi quickly stumble back and start stuttering

“You-you-you c-c-c-can t-t-t-t-t-talk!?!” confuse Mammon raise his arm and shock that his talon is more human, then he quickly got up and pant his body to check. He did it…... well almost, he’s still in his demonic form, but closer to his regular demon form with his body more humanoid and his wings aren’t attached to his arms anymore. Then he tries to feel his face, and his eyes narrow in disappointment to feel that he still has a beak on his face.

“You got- Whatever…… YOU!” Mammon turns and points at Levi who stiffed by that “I’m gonna kill ya once this all over, right let’s get back to the others, we need their help to find Lucifer”

Before Levi could respond, Mammon flaps his wings and start flying and swooping grab him by the shoulder in second start heading back to the cave with Levi screaming his lungs out.

“G’AAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

You, Asmo, and Beel are examining all the things in Mammon’s treasure cavern while Belphie is sleeping in the nest and Satan in waiting outside of the cave for the three older brothers to come back.

“I haven’t fabric like this in centuries, I don’t why Mammon was collecting them and just stashing them here in this old, filthy, and dark place like this”

“I’m surprise that these things survive after centuries has past” you add to Asmo chatter, while looking at old statues of Mammon’s demonic form. “So…… what Mammon and I saw almost a month ago…... that was you guys in your true forms?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say “true forms” but more Demonic form” Asmo hesitant to answer your question fully, with Belphie chuckling at Asmo in his sleep.

“y/n, has Mammon ever hurt you when you two are alone?” Beel asks as he stare at the claw marks around the cavern.

“Well, he did pounce and pinned me down, after he transformed, but the he started cooing at me and preening my hair. Like he was happy to see me, even after he change, which I want to say, wasn’t what I want to see again anytime soon”

“That’s strange? We are always feral and violent toward human in those form, I mean that’s way there’s bones and skull scatter all over the floor” Asmo point at a skull near your feet, then quietly step away from it.

“Okay, get that, but why Mammon acted like that to me?”

“Maybe…... you’re an exception because you two are a couple” Asmo comment causing you blush and try to hide it.

“No, that can be it, I mean your demons surly you don’t have the concept of what like mates or something”

“I don’t know about that, Mammon really made sure that you didn’t wake up when he tries to leave this morning. Maybe it can happen, he did bring you here where all his treasure is safe, it could mean he sees you as something precious to him even if his in that state of mind”

Before you could say something, you heard Levi scream above you, causing all of you expect for Belphie to look up to the hole of the cavern, then you saw a humanoid white crow who is carrying Levi flew in and drop Levi on to a sleeping Belphie who groans in pain of sudden body drop on him, and Crow monster landed beside.

“Mammon!?! You could have at least gotten a bit closer than that!” Levi yelled at Crow monster.

“If ya hadn’t scream all the way here, I would’ve been more~”

“Mammon…...”

The thing turns his head towards you, even from afar you can tell who it was.

“Y/n…...” Mammon face soften, as his voice whisper your name, in a gentle and low tone. After hearing what that form is and what it can do from his brothers, your heart start beating fast hearing Mammon’s voice again after a week of cooing, purring and squawking. And now he looks closer to his normal self, you couldn’t help but start tearing up. You ran towards Mammon who open he’s arms welcoming you.

Once close enough to him, you jump and wrap your arms around his neck, as you nuzzle your face on his feathery neck.

“Mammon, I-I can’t believe it, you can talk and-and~”

“Shh…. It’s okay, its me. I’m fine” he uses one arm to support your body, and the other at you back embracing you close to him.

“How?” he pulled away to look you in the eye.

“It’s Lucifer”

“So, what your saying is that are, our dear older brother just ran- vanish into the shadow with the book of the sins, and said to “Watch over them” to you and not Levi”

“HEY! As much I wanted to hear those words from him, I don’t want the responsibility of looking after ya and them. Satan, and beside I came he to asks for help. I don’t know want to do or even a way to find him”

All look worried at what they just heard from Mammon and Levi about Lucifer little disappearing act, as he, Satan, Belphie and you are thinking to how to find the first born.

While Levi and Asmo are pacing around the nest with Beel stomping his foot on it, distracting themselves from worry of losing Lucifer.

“Can we track him down, by scent?” you tell them the first thought you had.

“Babe, I can’t track him by smelling him. I’m not a sniffer”

“But Beel is!?!” everyone stops what they were doing and look over to Satan.

“I can do that; all I need is something that has his scent”

“You mean this” Mammon shows a fabric of Lucifer’s clothes “it been stuck in my claw and I tackle him on the ground, when I…... got piss off at him for nagging at me”

Mammon hand over the fabric to Beel, and took a whiff of it, and start following the trail.

“Wait!” Beel stop and turned around to see who stop him. “What happens if we do find him” Belphie asks, knowing fully well that there should have a way to trap or subdue him.

Mammon though that by this time Lucifer could have finish the spell and his fully changed at this point, judging for experience he knows how dangerous these forms are, especially Lucifer.

“I can use my pact with him” you snap Mammon out of he’s train of thought.

“WHAT!?! No! yer not coming with us”

“I can sit around and do nothing” you argue at him, then he snarls in annoyance of your stubbornness.

“y/n that’s just a temporary solution. We need is to make sure that he doesn’t go anywhere but here in the woods” Satan voice his concern on your idea.

“I’ll keep him here” Mammon said causing all of you to look at him in shock.

“Mammon you can’t~”

He places a hand on the side of your face as he looks at you deeply with his demonic eyes, which felt both terrifying and warmth at the same time.

“Y/n if he’s the same at me where I was about a week ago, he just needs to control this. And if that’s means keep him company for a week or so. Then I’m willing to do that” without any other option you eventually nod and lean closer to his palm.

“Okay, now here’s the Plan” Satan start discussing about how to trap Lucifer and make sure that he and Mammon stay in one place and not make the same mistake as before.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

heart+head(ache), m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: Like the seasons, the highs and lows come and go. Unlike the seasons, the lows are unpredictable and multiplicative, because life is not just one aspect, but many. If there's one person that can be your heart, it's Min Yoongi. If there's one person that can occupy your head, it's Jeon Jungkook.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; fluff / comfort, then PWP; smut (fem reader, nipple play, scratching / marking, fingering, hair-pulling, penetrative sex); softdom!Jungkook

this series has always been the personification of Yoongi and Jungkook as my muses. therefore it's not really a story, but rather a glimpse into my emotional state at the time it was written (about two weeks ago). I thought about not posting it, but, hey, you can choose to read it or not. I don't expect anyone to read it, tbh.

--

heartspace!Yoongi - his POV

"Leave me alone."

He sat down, silent, beside the hunched form.

"I can't take it anymore."

The only light came from the desk above them, the laptop screen blaring brightly in the darkness.

"I want to go back to the way it was."

He reached up and touched her knuckles, rubbing his fingertips over them.

"Back when no one knew I existed. Back when no one wanted to get in my head."

Over the silver rings, tracing reach one, decoration and armor, mirroring the outward self that protected the one inside. The fragile one that hid from the outside world. She let him see the fragility in this space, but only in this space. Her nails dug into her skin, tearing it up from the outside as the thoughts inside tore her to shreds.

"I don’t want these wings. I don’t want to fly high."

He waited, quietly, saying nothing, hand on hers. In this space, it was only him and only her.

The heart and the heartless.

"I don’t want to be in this light..."

Her eyes found his and he looked back, into shadowed orbs clouded from struggling for far too long and would continue to do so until she was no more. That was the way of the world, persistent and hurtful for no reason at all.

Time heals all wounds, but some wounds are blind to time, stagnant and frozen.

"I don't know the difference between pretending and not pretending anymore," she whispered, so quietly that he had to strain to hear.

He finally spoke, squeezing that thin hand gently.

"In some ways, they're the same thing for you, aren't they?"

She looked at him for a long, long time.

He lifted his hand from hers and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.

“You are with me,” he murmured. “And with me, you can be anything.”

This face hid behind smoke and mirrors. This face didn’t trust the world and trusted their own reflection even less. The world could pretend to know, but the reality was the depth of the scars was much deeper than anyone could ever fathom and this mind was unlike anyone else’s, too creative for its own good, producing new and intricate tortures for the one that lived within it. Only here, in this space, did he have a glimpse. Even then, he wasn’t sure he would ever see all of it, because that wasn’t necessary and because some shadows should stay in the dark where they belong.

"I can't be like them, Yoongi."

Min Yoongi shook his head.

"They're ordinary. You're special."

"I'm not."

"You know you are, otherwise no one would find solace in knowing you exist."

He held her face in his hands.

"Nameless, faceless, and yet... they flock to the safety of you."

He leaned forward, forehead to forehead.

"Who else can say that? No one. Not even me. Everyone knows my face now."

Into dark, dark eyes full of pain, reaching in, shouldering the weight so it was a little lighter, a little less heavy. He didn’t need to know the reason for the weight. It was there, and so he assisted.

"They'll never know the one I know."

A little despair, a little helplessness, all her.

"I'll never know the one you know."

He kissed her, softly, whispering her name and his love.

“If you think you can’t feel, then I will feel for you. If you ever feel like you don’t have a heart, know that I will be yours. Trust me.”

“Can I?” she breathed against his lips, eyes closed, lost in his taste.

Yoongi chuckled, running his hands through her hair, breathing in the scent of sweet matcha marshmallow, deeper, richer, warmer now that it was soaked into her skin, smooth and soft under his fingertips. She was like that. Everything she touched became more vivid, more alive, more real, even if it was only a fantasy.

“Of course. You are with me.”

He pulled her into his hold, into his lap, both of them still on the floor, cradling her at her lows so he could raise her at her highs.

“However long you need, one day, one week, one month, a year, until the end of time… I will be whatever role you need me to be. Obsession, possession, enemy, protector, muse, lover, one of them or all of them,” he murmured softly, lips on her temple, hand on the left side of her ribcage, cradling that rapid rhythm under his fingertips.

It was easy to say, don’t think about anyone else, but much harder to do so, and thus he didn’t say it. There was no need to. She already knew. That’s why she had retreated in the first place, retreated to the safety of his heart and blocked out the outside world.

“They are but visitors and they should be grateful to visit.”

Her fingers twisted into his shirt, clutching the fabric tightly.

“But I am, can, and will be everything you need, if you let me.”

She spoke into his neck, her hot breath wafting over his skin.

“You already are, Yoongi. You already are.”

They stayed like that, for a long, long time.

-

headspace!JK - reader's POV

You opened your bedroom door to find Jeon Jungkook laying on your bed.

His dark brown eyes shifted to you.

You looked away and closed the door.

“Where have you been?”

Every time. Every time you heard his smooth, silvery voice, you were reminded of home, even if he wasn’t always here. Then again, home was never a place to you. Like a permanent resident, Jungkook always managed to find his way to your bed and you, well, you resided with his voice.

“Who knows,” was your answer.

Because, in truth, you didn’t know.

Jungkook tilted his head, pink lips slightly parted. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He sat up, watching you, black strands brushing against his dark brows. There was a slight furrow to them, somewhere between disbelief and inquisition. White t-shirt, blue jeans. He hadn’t been here long, otherwise he would have given up on the jeans. His eyes followed you, resting his right arm on his knee, black tattoos standing out against the light wash of the jeans and white-shirt, tan skin the perfect background for them. With the red eyeball tattoo, perhaps it was more accurate to say that three eyes were observing you.

You stood beside the bed but didn’t get on it.

Jungkook let out a soft sigh, the side of his lips quirking up ruefully. “If I was hyung, I would say the right words.” He frowned slightly, chewing on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing into view, a soft kiss from the moon, perfectly placed in the middle. “He always knows what to say.”

You could almost hear that gentle, deep voice murmuring to you, hand on your chest, right above the rapid rhythm below his palm.

You always say it’s nothing when it’s something you know no one will understand.

Jungkook placed his chin on the back of his hand and looked up, catching your eye and pulling you from your thoughts with his voice.

“I don’t know what to say, but I can make you feel.”

You looked back, but still didn’t get on the bed.

“You cut your hair.” It was to his ears now, still black, just shorter.

“Mhm.” He smiled. “Do you not like it?”

You chuckled dryly. “You could be bald, Jungkook, and you would still look good.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Someday I’ll show up like that and then I’ll know if you’re telling the truth.”

You didn’t laugh or banter back, settling into silence instead. He noticed right away. His features softened and he raised his other hand to beckon you to him.

You didn’t move.

His lips formed to the words and you could tell he meant them because he maintained eye contact, not letting you avoid his gaze.

“I missed you.”

Where have you been?

You placed your hands on the bed, fingers spread, silver rings glinting in the light, lighting each and every one, all except your left pinky. You still hadn’t found the perfect one for that one yet. The three silver necklaces you wore clinked together as you crawled to Jeon Jungkook, mind full of thoughts that fell away one by one, replaced by the sight, sound, smell of Jungkook, tongue remembering his taste, skin prickling, remembering his touch.

“I could have distracted you,” he whispered, leaning forward.

“I wasn’t the best version of myself,” you whispered back, the dull ache of intangible weight pressing down on your ribcage. “I couldn’t see you like that.”

He lifted his right hand from his knee and reached around your head, burying his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer to that face and those eyes, sharp and defined with an endearing softness, lashes lowering, inhaling your scent, lustful satisfaction clouding his gaze as he once again recognized that you had changed it from that spiced, warm chestnut to a heady matcha marshmallow.

“You know,” Jungkook breathed, tugging you to him, his lips brushing against yours. “I am here for all versions of you, good or bad, sad or mad, fallen apart or all in one piece.”

His teeth nipped your lips and your breath caught your throat, knowing he was making you wait, curling his fingers in your hair to hold your head in place.

In this space, with him.

“If your head is full of me, there’s no space for the other thoughts.”

“That’s not how it works, Jungkook.”

“That’s how I want it to work.”

His lips captured yours, firm, intense, hand pulling you to him and his hard body, surrounding you in his embrace, your gasp in his mouth as he pressed you to his chest, pinning you down, forearms flexing against the small of your back, your hands coming up to steady yourself on his shoulders, digging your nails into the thin fabric of the t-shirt. You shivered in his hold, eyes opening slightly, not realizing they had closed, and his were open too, filtered by his lashes.

“I don’t want to go back out there,” you said, so softly that the words didn’t seem real.

“Then don’t,” Jungkook whispered. “Stay with me.”

“You’re not good for me.”

“They’re worse.”

He spread his legs and put you in his lap. You could feel the texture of his jeans through the thin fabric of your pajama shorts, thighs on top of his, softness to hardness. His fingers traced the lapel of your pajama shirt and the red piping, smiling at the print, little red devil heads making various faces against the black jersey fabric.

“You’re insufferable.”

The small smile lifted and now it was yours, turning into a smirk. “Yeah, but you love me.”

You stared into those eyes, that face, trapped in his arms, his body, his voice, his sound, everything just Jeon Jungkook, and the hesitation remained. You felt his hand shift, raising, fingertips brushing your cheek, sending shivers up your neck and to his electric touch.

“I couldn’t come back because it didn’t feel right.”

His hand lowered, cradling the side of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw.

“What about now?” Jungkook asked, silvery and sweet.

You told the truth, because the truth was eating away at you.

“I don’t know.”

He turned his head and leaned in, inhaling your exhale, eyes closing.

“I’ll help you know.”

His kiss.

I want to be your everything.

He made you memorize the shape of his lips, made you memorize the weight of his hands, made you memorize the curve of his shoulders and chest, pushing you down on the bed, your hands sliding down and pressed to his chest, palm to his heavy heartbeat, hungry kisses and fleeting tongue teasing you, the lower half of his body pinning yours down. Heavy. Inescapable. You tried to move away to speak but he caught your lips, pulling your back, his left hand peeling your right off his heart and interlocking his fingers with yours, slamming it down on the sheets, his right snaking in between your bodies, undoing the buttons one by one. You cried out into his mouth and he lifted his head, black hair messy, breathing hard.

“J-Jungkook…”

His lips were dark, swollen from kissing you so fiercely, irises shadowed and pupils expanded.

“This is how it should be, with you saying my name like that.”

You glared at him, but he simply chuckled, diving back down again, lips attacking your neck, kisses and bites that made your breath hitch, clutching fistfuls of his shirt, and it didn’t matter, it simply didn’t matter anymore, too many outside thoughts when you could just have Jungkook invading your head, clawing the hem of his shirt upward, digging your nails into his back and his soft skin, his moans on yours, tongue dancing up your trembling throat, biting that space right behind your right ear, your pulse roaring under his lips and your name in his throat, no distractions., only Jungkook.

“My mark belongs all over you,” he growled possessively.

Your nails dragged down his broad back and his hips bucked into yours, his oppressive force and weight a welcome one. You didn’t respond. A single dark brown orb watched your face, smirk against your earlobe. No response needed because Jungkook could see it in your expression and the way you held him, violent but desperate, needing him more than anyone or anything else in this world right now.

“Someday,” he murmured teasingly.

“In your dreams,” you shot back, finding your voice.

“They’re all about you.”

He sat up, thighs straddling you, crossing his arms and pulling up his white t-shirt in one swift stroke, tossing it aside. His lips curved into a sly smile, seeing you bite your lip and narrow your eyes to hide your breathlessness at his muscular and toned torso, the black tattoos of his right arm rippling as he leaned down again, his large hands next to your head, smirk dancing above your face.

“Just like how yours are all about me.”

You didn’t look away. “They’re not.”

Neither did he. “They will be.”

You clicked your tongue.

Unfazed, unbothered, unwise, you pulled Jungkook down to you, closing your eyes, his fresh scent filling your nose, lips on your skin, murmuring, so sweet, so delicious, kissing your collarbones, pushing your shirt off and reaching around you, forcing you to yank your pajama shirt off to avoid getting tangled in it and your unhooked bra, already moving on, lips wrapping around your hard nipple and you felt his eyes on you, opening yours to see his smirk and his tongue flicker, pulses of desire clawing through you, all because of Jungkook.

“What?” you managed to get out, sucking in a breath as his hand came up, fingertips pushing the other hard nub, watching your expression with his tongue extended.

“You belong under me, like this, enjoying everything I do to you,” he murmured, lapping slowly, not enough but still too much with the visual included.

“S… Stop looking at me like that.”

He shook his head slowly, your name falling from his lips, black hair brushing over his brows. You stiffened as his hand slid under the waistband of your shorts, under the thin fabric of your panties, long fingers dancing closer and closer to your heated, dripping core.

“If I look away, you might disappear from me again.”

You were lost, lost in the feeling of Jeon Jungkook.

Brown eyes ensnaring you, drowning your senses with his sensations.

“I can’t have that.”

His lips wrapping around your nipple again, deft fingers slipping inside your pussy, moan drifting from your lips as you raised your hips, shorts and panties sliding down, but Jungkook was already moving, plunging his fingers in fast and rough, sucking hard, tongue teasing the hard tip, other arm wrapped around you and free hand splayed in the small of your back, locking you in his space.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…”

Your walls clenched around his fingers, his chuckle vibrating through your nipple, faster, harder, so easy because you were so wet and he was so close, one hand in his hair and the other clutching the sheets, back arching, muscles pulled taut in his touch, thighs unable to close because his own were holding them open, fingers tightening in his short black hair, nails digging into his scalp, breathing hard, not letting him have his favorite sounds, so Jungkook increased the pace, his own fingernails clawing at your back, and your eyelids fluttered, jaw clenching, moan torn from your throat.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

And it all crashed down, fierce blossoming pleasure overtaking your veins, pitch hiking as his fingers stilled and his thumb pressed to your clit, fuck, don’t, but he did, he did because you pulled him even closer, chest to chest, his triumphant pants against your neck, hand sliding up your back, pushing your head down, taking your lips and your scream as you came again, all over his hand, tight pulsating walls clenching around his fingers, the scent of sex painting the air and his palm, covering him with you.

“Fuck…!”

You broke the kiss, hand wrapping around his forearm, squeezing hard, taut muscle pushing you back, tattoos peeking out from beneath your fingertips, staring into his eyes, time stopping, slow circles on your most sensitive spot, his blown-out pupils reflecting yours, skin to skin, heart racing against his.

“What?” Jungkook panted. “Tell me.”

His brown orbs searching your face, shrouded by lashes, desire so obvious that it was tangible and palpable.

“Want you.”

His lips curved into a smug smile.

“Yeah? Say it again.”

Your hands left his hair and his arm, reaching between your bodies, still gazing into his eyes.

“Want you, Jungkook. Want you to fuck me.”

His forehead touched yours as the button came undone, his hair sticking to your face, both sweaty from the intensity.

“I really missed you more than the words,” he mumbled against your cheek, helping you push his pants down, skin to hot skin, kicking them off the bed.

“Mhm.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I’m not an idiot, Jungkook.”

“You are if you don’t believe me.”

You stilled, holding the condom out and Jungkook took it from you, ripping it open, cocking an eyebrow defiantly as he rolled it down his hard length, nudging your thighs.

“You… You’re just here to annoy me.”

Your eyes shifted away and you felt him pick up your legs, pushing them up, hooking them over his shoulders. One of his hands cupped your chin and tugged you back to face him, not letting you avoid his gaze.

“We both know that’s not true,” he said softly.

You gasped sharply as he gripped your chin, holding you in place as he slid in, setting his jaw at your tightness, both of you shuddering at the feeling of your pussy surrounding his cock, feeling it swell inside you and get harder, stretching you out, his determination nearing as he leaned down, bending you in half, hand leaving your chin and pressing his palms flat against your sheets, breathing hard as he shoved himself the rest of the way in, a little pain but so much pleasure, soft thighs against his hard torso, your breath mixing with his, hot and heavy and sweet despite how firmly he had you pinned down.

“I want your head full of me,” Jungkook sighed, slowly rolling his hips into you, making you gasp. “You’ll never have a bad thought if I’m occupying that space.”

“Fuck, you can’t… ah, that’s not how it w-works, Jungkook…”

He was using his weight to drive his thrust, powerful and intense, ramming his hips into you, your juices leaking out and sticking to his crotch, the inside of your joined thighs slick and wet, loud slaps echoing throughout the bedroom, stiff length so hard you could feel it twitch inside your pussy, hitting you as deep and as rough as you liked, probably too much for the normal person, but not you, because you wanted to feel it all, wanted Jungkook to really fuck you and not be gentle about it, grabbing his hair and smacking your hips up to meet his, making you both moan loudly, names mixing with the visceral sounds of sex.

“I’ll just keep fucking you then,” Jungkook hissed. “Keep fucking you and make you feel so good that nothing else matters, nothing except how good I can make you feel.”

You looked up, your silver rings glinting in his black hair, your silver necklaces cutting into your neck and the three coin-shaped pendants jingling and clinking in rhythm with the mattress bouncing under your bodies, pressure and pleasure building inside your core, struggling to breathe as you glanced down and watched him enter and reenter, thick cock slick and hard before disappearing inside you.

“A-Ah…”

Back to his eyes, nearly black from arousal, groaning as you came around him, throbbing walls squeezing his entire length, feeling it all with every pulse.

“You’re gonna have to f-fuck me harder… than t-this…”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You got it.”

You threw your head back at the first smack, clutching his head, feeling it all over, pleasure like rushing fire, eating up all your nerves and replacing it with sound and touch, the swift squelch of his length plunging into you, the feeling of him filling you up and taking your breath away, so good you could barely breathe, so good you could barely think, nothing but the feel of Jungkook towering over you and slamming down into you so you could thrust your hips up to meet him, so close, so close, heavy exhales blending together, skin and nerves prickling, humming with ecstasy, feeling so good you could only moan his name, and he groaned yours, right in your face, edge of desperation in his normally controlled, deep voice..

“Cum, yes, cum for me – fuck!”

And it all crashed down, fierce fire rocketing through you and hitting its peak, gasping as you smacked your hips up and clenched all around his cock in rapid throbs, his moan washing over you, jerking and flinching as he came in strong jolts, rutting his hips into yours to feel it all, shifting the head inside you so your muscles massaged him all over and drained his orgasm out.

“Jungkook… fuck…”

He lifted his arms and lowered your legs, hands coming up to hold your face, tipping your lips up to him, kissing them deeply.

“You don’t understand,” he mumbled, staring at you through his lashes. “It hurts when you don’t come to me.”

He kissed you again and again, your words wisping out between them.

“I…”

Feeling sorry there wasn’t another way.

“I have to get through it myself… It wasn’t you… You didn’t do anything…”

Jungkook collected you in his embrace, breath becoming one with yours.

“Yeah, but I can do something, so I need you to give me the chance.”

His eyes were telling you, you don’t have to go back out there. Stay. Stay with me, in this bedroom, in this space, just you and me. Your hand was against his temple, silver rings against his silver brow piercing, tracing his sharp features, feeling airless as you looked into those dark brown orbs and listened to his voice that seemed to be a permanent resident of your thoughts.

“Keep me with you, always.”

--

masterpost

[tiens-letters]

butterflies flutter even in the most bloodstained of battlefields

Xiao (angst)

....

It was one of those nights again.

Where all was serene, creatures alike basking in the tranquility of the world once the moon above floats over the existence of everything. To where wars stopped for rest and yet one soul amongst many had no time to do so.

"Alatus." what a familiar name he thinks as he floats around in the void, the darkness to which seemed not consume him just like before and then he wondered where he is right now is the place of all endings. It was pure nothingness and it seemed more comforting than the land he was supposed to protect, riddled with war and the ever evolving generations of humanity.

If this was the end then so be it, he wouldnt ask for more. He could finally rest his weary head and think and replay all the good days while awaiting reincarnation and he prayed. He hoped for a better rebirth and into a place of peace.

"Alatus." there was it again, the name he's forgot during the spoils of war. A name he thought he'd never hear again or even spoken by someone's lips.

"Wake up please." but his eyes were fully open, his body aware and yet he felt alienated, out of place. He realizes that his skin never felt a thing and only the harrowing reality that this place was a farce.

As if it were the clue to the puzzle, the darkness broke and fell apart into a field, marred with bodies piled atop each other, the red sun above blessing those under it the horrors of a never ending terror that scorched their skin and drove them towards the brink of madness. His polearm, sullied with grime and blood. It felt heavy, like the burden he carries upon his shoulders. A little bit more and he would have lost himself too. He stood above it all and looked at the vast battlefield before him, the very nightmare he's always experienced. Just he himself standing, alone and cold, the suffocating air heavy with the stench of tarnished blood.

There were no grassy fields with a clear sky nor the old and ancient land of liyue that he grew up in and fought for.

A lone butterfly dances in the midst of it all, his body weightless as he followed it. Wondering why it called out to him in a silent way yet its presence itself made him feel at ease.  Perhaps this was his salvation from being damned to this world, a small glowing butterfly. He wanted to touch it but he felt undeserving to for such an action, he might curse it as well. His eyes was set alone on its fluttering feat, not noticing the bodies he walked past nor the souls that called out to him.

And then it burst into a million, pieces of light, engulfing him in its warmth.

He welcomed it.

"Xiao!" he gasps, like his very first breath into existence and then he could feel everything there is and there was.

That's right, there was still you, beautiful eyes fully blown into worry, that face of your torn into agony at the thought of him never waking up next to you. Not feeling his skin upon your and his lips gracing your immortal soul.

You embraced him with relief, clutching his body that was filled with nightmare tremors.

"Thank you." he whispers against your neck, the sweat from his forehead sticking to you skin and you didnt care. Even if you both were covered in dirt or grime, even if both of you were tarnished by blood, nothing mattered except that you both are breathing and feeling.

"I thought Ive lost you in that wasteland, Alatus."

He kisses you with all he has, all the pent up emotions he could never say, all the love he feels for you was conveyed into actions, those hands that held a weapon of war now cupping your cheeks and all you could ever feel was his deeply rooted affection towards you. it was as if to remind him that you were still there, the sole reminder of a better world. a better life.

You who he's dedicated his heart to and not anyone else. the first of everything. sure it was a bumpy ride in the beginning as he was like a newborn babe to the emotions such as love and joy but as time took every step, the road seemed to smoothen by its grace and it became easier to approach these newfound feelings. you were glad to be blessed by the geo archon to have a long life so  that you can offer your all to the land you helped protect and build and now to the man before you. Your dearly torn Alatus. 

"Rest well my dear." 

...

It was truly the end of the line. 

Everywhere was in utter chaos, modern Liyue now fraught to ruin as an ancient God had been awakened, one you thought had been sealed away and the demons you guardians once kept away came bounding back tenfold and hungry for blood and destruction. The city that has been built from the ground crumbled , as you fought once again, just like all those years ago side by side with your comrades. People were dying as you strived to protect every single soul with your hands and just like before, several others dropped to your feet, lifeless and tossed apart like a rag doll.

You were tiring, sharp movements turned sluggish as you tore down anything evil that you came across, you prayed to whichever good god was still alive that the people had run to safety so that you could unleash your last card. A trick you've vowed to never use again as long as you are alive and the situation permits it so and yet you've run out of time. if you didnt do this now then everything would really turn to ash and nothing would bloom ever again. 

Standing in the middle of the onslaught of monsters that never seemed to end, gnashing teeth nipped at your barrier only to be repelled back by a force that seemed to lose its energy. You sighed, the last ever peace you'll get to feel as the karma pushed you over the edge. 

"Xiao." and as soon his name poured out your lips did he appear, an urgent look in his eyes as he slashed down any monster that came near. 

"Its time." his mouth hung open, unable to find the right words to counter you, how could he? when duty was above everything, especially in the relationship you both had that bloomed from the most ancient of days. Liyue came first above all else, that was what you swore as Morax blessed you on the day of your early death. You were thankful to him that he's allowed you to live even with the price of servitude. 

"Thirty  seconds." was all he could muster up to say from all the torrential words that swarmed his head. just thirty seconds of peace with you was all he wanted before you walk the remaining steps towards the end. 

"Alright." there was peace as you allowed it, nothing from outside was heard only the ragged breathes that came from both of your lungs. There were no monsters only two immortal beings that longed for peace, and in those weary eyes was hope for a tomorrow. 

"I love you." he whispers pulling you close, those thirty seconds slowed as he held you tightly, his skin engraving the memory of you deep within. "I love you. Dont forget that." 

"Even if I pass on, you will always be in my heart. Even if time goes on, your name remains on my lips. Even if everything crumbles, you in your own self will always be with me as I am with you. So my dear, my dear sweet Alatus, dont you ever cry when you wake up tomorrow to an empty bed, dont look for me when all Ive ever been is right beside you. Instead, rejoice for there is another day you get to experience for the both of us and if time allows us once again, which I am confident it will. I will  find you just as you've found me." 

this was your parting vow. 

your peaceful barrier broke and once again you were back in the cruel reality you faced and will face till your death. Your lips find his and for the last time in this life, you poured every ounce of you in it. Your eyes had no tears and only hope and acceptance as you broke away. 

"I love you." and then that was the end of your own book. 

Billions upon billions of butterflies burst from you, touching every dirty, disgusting thing, purging it off this world once and for all. Your duty was fulfilled, your contract has ended and now you are free. There was nothing to worry about except to wait for the right time to find you way back to him. 

Now, everything was at peace again. 

Xiao, the man you've left behind for the time being stood alone once again with a single butterfly perched atop his forehead. 

.....................................................................

i will get to the requests after a few days. Please bear with my low creativity juice and dwindling will to can.

[caesthetix]

SAY A LITTLE PRAYER — Ep. What Paradise Is

↪Eren Yeager mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, heavy angst, description of violence, established relationship, spoiler for season 4, alternate ending, manga spoiler

"You know, I can't help but thank Eren that he killed her that night."

Everyone was busy with themselves after Jean beat Reiner to a pulp. The rest of them who were still awake, circling the campfire, waiting for sleepiness to engulf them. But that sentence was enough to stop them from dozing off, some pairs of eyes decided to fall upon them instead.

Hange tried to be neutral all the time. They needed to be the mediator between the Marleyans and the rest of the Survey Corps. After all, they needed each other if they wanted to stop the rumbling. Yet they couldn't help but speak up, they were human too after all.

"Huh?" It was Connie. "What do you mean by that, H-Hange-san?"

They just smiled softly as they looked down, watching their own reflection from the brown liquid in their hand. It was your favourite drink, coffee. Every sip would always be savoured as they imagined you sitting right in front of them.

"But we could use her strength. If she lived, she could help us to sway Eren." Armin spoke up, responding to their statement before. His blue eyes staring at the crackling fire, deep in his thoughts. "When we lost her, we lost seventy-five percent of the chance for winning this without having to harm Eren."

"You tell me that is the reason why he killed her?" The scowl on Connie's face hardened as he tried to connect the dots. "So we can't use her against him, eh? What a coward at the end. That lunatic bastard—"

"She would have followed him."

Mikasa's voice was soft and tiny as she cut his sentence. Yet even though it heard like a whisper, everyone could hear what she said. They blinked in confusion, except Hange and Jean who currently stood a few feet from them, somehow understood. The Marleyan raised their eyebrows in confusion, Annie could not understand what they were all talking about.

The rest of them were begging for more information, but the ravenette didn't give them any.

"She would have followed him."

Instead, she repeated the words. Her friends would understand her sentence — if they decided to use their brains for a while. They all knew you, she didn't have to give any further explanation regarding her statement.

Of course, now they understood why Hange thanked Eren for what he did to you. Even if you were alive right now, you were not going to be here, eating stew and drinking coffee while fretting about how to stop your lover who tried to commit genocide to the whole world.

You were going to be there, by his side, with your swords ready to be pointed out to anyone who tried to stop and harm Eren in any way. You would stand there, devoting your heart not for humanity, but for him. That was how big your love was, something that was blinding you, to the extent of worshipping him.

And they couldn't imagine themselves to be the one who sears their blades at you.

"You never told us, Hange."

Jean's voice filled the void, his feet stomping the grass underneath him, echoing through the quiet night. "That night, you never told us what happened." He stood on the other side of the campfire, his tall body looming in front of them as they seated on the ground.

The brunette stared at the man with a stern gaze, contemplating if it was the right moment to tell them. But their time was limited now, as their friends, they all deserved to know what happened that night.

"Alright." They put the metal cup down their lap. "Though I remind you now, it wouldn't be pleasant but," It even felt so heavy for them, by just thinking about your death. "But it would be so — her."

The veteran scout told them everything. From how you stood in front of their door, the coffee that they shared with you, to the time you cried when they gave you the key so you could go inside his cell. They were sure that you went there to talk and asked for a reason, but they knew thirty minutes wouldn't be enough.

Jean felt bad for asking, as he could see how much the commander suffered from this burden. Hange's hand balled into a fist, the other gripping tight on the cup's handle. Yet they keep on going, telling them how they saw Eren wash his face as if his hands were not stained by his lover's blood.

They explained the bruises on your neck, shaped like fingers as an indicator of how you died.

"Fuck." Jean cursed, his eyes glistening with tears that were threatening to fall. "Fuck." He shouldn't have asked, but it was too late, he could see the horror in your eyes, how afraid you were that night, how you were screaming for help but no one came.

For you to die, and the one who was responsible was your lover, he couldn't imagine the betrayal on your—

"But you know what's funny?" Hange spoke up once again, they were not finished yet. Their comrades immediately looked at them once again, asking for them to continue.

They sipped their coffee, recalling the gleam in your eyes, the comfort that they remembered up until now. There was no terror, you were not afraid of him even in your last moment. "There was no sign of resistance."

And that fact was enough to wake them up.

"Even from the start, when Eren choked her, she just stood there, letting him do it." They chuckled, almost maniacal. "Her eyes still shone with comfort as she looked at him. I-I always figure her out, I understand a lot of things about her. But, but I can't with this one."

They stopped, groaning as once again your eyes were the only thing that they could see. "I don't know anymore if she really believed that he must have to kill her for a reason," His hand shook the cup gently, letting the liquid swirl inside. "Or she believed that he would stop and let her go, even until she's gone for real."

And that last sentence broke them all.

The Marleyan couldn't look at the broken soldiers in front of them. Gabi and Falco pursed their lips, trying so hard to sleep. Annie who was sitting beside the unconscious Reiner, now having her pupils dilated as she understood the story, and who would be the mysterious woman that made them distressed like this.

Connie was silent as he kept gulping down water down his throat. Armin closed his eyes, but he could see it so clearly, the faith in your orbs. Jean just chuckled bitterly, muttering stupid woman again and again as tears were cascading down his cheek.

Then, Mikasa, her lips trembled as she tried not to sob. But whimpers already slipped, her empty cup fell to the ground as she put her hands on her ears as she wanted to stop the noises in her head. You brought joy, even in her life, and to be reminded that you were killed by Eren nonetheless, tore her apart.

The rest of the night was filled with nothing but sorrow. Tears accompanied them all to their sleep, silent weeps and choked-out sobs could be heard here and there.

Hange could only stay put under the white cloth that works as their blanket, staring into the dark green of trees, then went beyond that to see the night blue skies which adorned with stars. They subconsciously raised their hand, as if they were reaching for someone.

“Tell me, Hange!”

They tried to understand him, they really did. When they closed your eyes as you laid on the infirmary bed, they knew that you would appreciate it if they tried to understand why he killed you. Down in the basement, they tried to bait him with your condition, blaming him for how they lost another comrade.

“If there’s another way, then tell me what it is!”

But they were not you, they couldn’t see it. They wanted a reason but all they got from the man was just subtle answers, pain, anger, and how what he did was something inevitable. They just knew that he suffered too from what he had done, so perhaps it was enough.

They just wished — they could understand you.

"Oh, (Y/n)." They sighed, finally letting the tears slip down their cheeks. No one else saw them, it was just their lonely soul and the craving for your existence. "I think I didn’t know you enough."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈〄┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His vision was supposed to be filled with lights, dark blue lights that came from the coordinate. He used to know it all, see it all, what happened in the world as he activated the rumbling, he could hear all the screams from those people underneath him. Trampled by gigantic power, without given any mercy.

He couldn't remember when it stopped. The terror, his friends fighting him so they could stop his plan — suddenly all he saw was just a bright pinkish sky. It was as if he was laying down on one of the clouds, soft and free.

The breeze tickled his long hair, good that it just swayed his brown strands softly, but not good enough to give him comfort.

Comfort, oh, how much he longed for that word.

The past few days had been so hard as he kept on living to grant freedom to the Island of Paradis. He could not count how many of his comrades died, how many of his followers ended up not seeing that freedom, let alone all the lives that he took.

And now when he knew that he failed, he chuckled as the realisation dawned upon him. After all these years — he was still the same useless boy.

"Eren."

He sat up in an instant. Dark green eyes searching for the source of where it came from. Surely he was not hallucinating, but that was a possibility. He didn't even know what this place, let alone believing that it was her voice.

"Hey, Eren."

But it was indeed your voice. No matter how many days or weeks passed after some time he had to part with you, he could always recognise that voice anywhere. Gentle, warm, and comforting, it felt like he was so close to heaven.

"You are here."

Then he felt it. He felt you. He looked down on his torso, finding two arms wrapped around him from behind. It felt so right as his hand slowly covered yours, testing it in case it was all in his head. But he could touch, he could trace his finger on the back of your hand.

He laughed, just a short one as he still processed what kind of magic existed in this place. You rested your chin on his shoulder, planting a peck on his cheek without warning that caused him to blush a hundred shades of red.

"(Y/n)?" He called out your name. "Are you real?" You only answered with a single hum. "How come are you real? Where is this place? Why am I here? I am not supposed to be here, I needed to finish the plan, Ymir is—"

You shut him up by placing your finger in front of his lips.

"You are free, Eren."

Silence. He could not understand that. Did it mean that he already died? But if that was the truth, why did he even feel more alive now compared to all those years that he spent before?

You slowly retracted your finger, pulling yourself from his embrace as gently as possible. Eren was still deep in thought, hands falling to the cloud-like ground he was sitting on right now. You stood up and walked in front of him, bare feet were now within his eyesight.

He could touch you before, and it didn’t feel like he was hallucinating. He felt your kiss before, and it made him sure that it was real. Bewildered, he looked up only to find you looking forward. Even though he felt that he was finally free, he was still curious about what happened in this moment.

"What is this place?" He asked again, now a lot calmer than before as he gazed at your face which showed nothing but peace.

"A transit." You started, eyes never leaving the glowing sight in front of you. "A place where you are finally free, but still misplaced since it was not the last destination where you should go." He hummed, processing your words that still felt unreal.

"Then why are you here?" All this afterlife thing was so foreign for him. "Why don't you leave and go to your last destination?"

"Oh, boy, you really asking me that?" You chuckled softly, snickering as if that was the dumbest question that you ever heard. Your eyes finally cast down to face him, and when he still looked so confused, you could only let out a sigh. "Because I am waiting for you, Eren."

You smiled wistfully, extending your hand for him to take. "What else could it be at this point?" He took it as he nodded at your answer. You helped him up, letting him stand by himself. And now as he looked around the endless clouds, he could finally embrace the fact that he was indeed — dead.

Anywhere he looked, he could only find the soft, white clouds refreshing the air. The colour was tinted orange as the sun in front of him shone like it would set anytime soon. But it had been perhaps minutes by now, and yet the colour never changed.

If he was finally here to feel his freedom, then he would take it. The world where he lived before was not his responsibility anymore. His friends had won, and it was not his place to ask for what happened next. Yes, he was ready to be free. But as he looked at you, he still had one, unanswered question that he needed to know.

"Hey, (Y/n)." He cleared his throat, melancholy striking his feature as your gaze met with his.

"Yes, Eren?"

How come you are here on his side? Why did you stay in this place alone just to wait for him? He killed you, why are you not running away? There was so much, so many questions that he never dared to ask you. But one, he needed to know the answer to this one question.

"Why don't you fight back when I try to kill you?"

You didn't flinch, you stood there with a neutral expression as if he just asked you if you had eaten before.

"Truthfully, Eren? I always thought that you were just trying to make me hate you. Looking at me with those cold eyes, tightening your grip like that." Your finger subconsciously went to your neck. "At first, I thought you were going to let me go at some point."

He could feel a lump start forming in his throat as he listened, tears were threatening to fall already. That was what you felt that night, you didn’t want to die. Of course, who in the right mind wanted to die? Let alone killed by someone that you loved.

"But as seconds passed and you were not loosening the grip, I understood." Then you continued, your hand now fell back to your side. Though, you still looked at him with earnestness written all over your face. "I understand that you had to kill me for a reason, that you knew it was for the best."

His breath hitched at your statement; which was supposed to make him feel guilty, to make him feel like he was not worthy of your faith. But with how there was no ill will nor sadness in your intonation, he couldn't feel any other feelings except — relief.

"So I believed in you, and I wanted you to know until the end that wherever I go next, I will always devote my heart to you."

You said it without doubt, as if you have been saying the same thing over and over again throughout your life. Yet somehow he could know that it was the truth. Perhaps you said that inside your heart for all the times that you spent with him.

While you still alive, you have put your faith in him, following him anywhere he goes. No one could sway your belief, you were devoted solely just to him. You praised his name, never leaving his side under any circumstances.

And he realised — that was the way you said you loved him.

So now, it was his time to do the same, to believe in you.

"Come on, Eren." You dusted the non-existent wrinkles on your clothes before extending your hand for him to take, a smile never leaving your face as you waited for him patiently. "Let's go home."

And without wasting another second, without any hesitation, he reached for your hand. The smile on your face widened at this, and the wind suddenly twirled around the two of you. He didn't know where home was, he didn't know where you would take him.

But as you started to walk in the direction of the sun, he followed. His eyes looked forward, dark green eyes turned into the emerald shade that was gone before. It was so beautiful, how he walked above the clouds, with your hand around his, guiding him to a new place called home.

Your laugh resonated in his ears as he caught up with you, gripping your hand tighter, afraid that he would lose you if he loosened up. Yet somehow he knew that he wouldn't have to be scared anymore.

Now he was finally free. From the burden on his shoulders, from the duty that was thrown at him by his ancestors, from the endless nightmare that he saw on each vision — it was all gone. And as his gaze fleeted toward your running form, he blinked in astonishment.

He saw you, a younger self of you perhaps, maybe when you were nine or ten. You looked beautiful, even with your hair slightly shorter, with chubby, adorable cheeks. Then you turned to face him, and he saw those glossy beads filled with purity.

And inside those, he saw a reflection. Of a boy not older than ten years old, with a brown outer and a sage green shirt, holding on to someone. Oh, it was him. He looked so free as he ran side by side with you, he looked so free with you leading him to his new home.

Laughter filled the air that surrounded you and him; high-pitched, carefree laughter that people would hear when children ran around the street to catch one another. That happy laugh slipped from both of your lips.

He held your hand tighter, not because he was afraid to lose you, but so he could feel your love even more. He ran with you faster, now becoming the one who followed you as he believed that you were going to take him somewhere, to the last destination.

A place where he could finally be free.

With you.

↪Back to Wall Maria

↪Citizen; @queenofcurse

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

[ever-is-typing]

Since I saw you do skins hdc can I request own for Desolate sand pleeeaaase 😗

note: yessssssss desolate sand :sobbing: legit so angry at myself for not being into the game when he was available he's so awesome >:(

🪙⏳ Desolate Sand!Andrew (Grave Keeper)⏳🪙 relationship headcanons

• the gold rush inspired many people to travel west-

• and you were certainly no exception.

• be it to chase a dream or to escape the dreariness of everyday life, you made the journey for the opportunity of a lifetime!

• though, your "opportunity" was cut rather short when Marshall- the wealthiest gold digger in the west- was murdered,,,

• and you were considered a suspect in aforementioned murder,,,

• then again, you weren't the only suspect in this ordeal.

• there were a variety of interesting characters involved- a bounty hunter, a western tycoon...

• and a mysterious masked stranger, just to name a few.

• like you, he wasn't from this small western town- no one knew where he was from, really

• either way, though, you were both outsiders. but that was about where the similarities ended

• this stranger was cloaked in secrecy. he covered his face with a dark bandana, but that didn't help to conceal the shocking red tint of his eyes or the stark whiteness of his hair.

• you were taken aback by his features at first, but you didn't find them as strange as the golden shovel he carried on his person at all times

• like what do you need a shovel for in the wild west bro that's kinda ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ

• he didn't have a name- or, rather, he never told it to anyone. so, when they're not calling him a "demon" because of his unusual appearance, the townsfolk took to calling him "Desolate Sand" for his solemn and enigmatic nature

• and, unlike everyone else involved in the crime, he didn't seem to care too much for money, which was practically unthinkable

• so yeah you were definitely intrigued by Desolate Sand from the start

• he, on the other hand, wasn't too keen on making friends. in his eyes, the westerners were all corrupt... putting their faith in gold coins instead of God, so they weren't worth his time

• but, when he sees you from the other side of the bar one day, fiddling with your empty glass, something about you stands out as different

• maybe it's the worry in your expression? the unspoken plea of innocence in your wide eyes? something about it just seemed so human...

• and, being a suspect of murder, he saw it as a breath of fresh air and rationale. you weren't like these other suspects, with their petty obsession for wealth and status.

• you were a person of reason, like him. a humble survivor of life, just trying to deliver God's justice in your own way...

• or, at least, he hoped so when he slid down into the seat next to you.

• "You look like you could use another drink, dollface."

• as he gestures for the bartender to fill your glass with the alcohol of your choice, you couldn't help but feel the corner of your thoughtful frown tug up into a smile

• "Dollface? That's awfully flattering for someone you don't even know." you would snort cheekily, looking him up and down. "Anything complimentary I should be calling you, stranger?"

• "The folks in these parts have taken to calling me Desolate Sand," he would respond, tipping his hat respectfully. "But something tells me you already knew that."

• you would nod, sipping on your drink in silence. at this point in the investigation, there wasn't anyone who didn't know about this mysterious man.

• "Well then, Mr. Desolate Sand, you can call me Y/N. Y/N L/N."

• "Charmed, Y/N L/N."

• "Likewise."

• from then on, you two would keep meeting at that spot in the bar- you spent most of your time together talking about your dreams for the future and your goals by travelling west

• or, at least, you did. Desolate Sand was rather reserved about his past, but he was more than happy to listen to you talk about yours. what a gentleman (¬‿¬)

• and, with every meeting you had, the both of you began to fall in love without even really noticing at first...

• ...which caused more worry to Desolate Sand than it did to you. you were a kind soul, a good person. you didn't deserve to be with a filthy sinner like him.

• besides, he's done some pretty horrible things in his life...

•...like killing Marshall-

• omg plot twist!! (o‿o)

• so, when you finally admitted your feelings to him and he hit you with that information, it was like a punch to the gut.

• up until this point, you had really grown to trust him- but this confession just felt like the grossest betrayal possible. what other horrible secrets was he keeping from you?

• so, not wanting to find out, you ran away.

• of course, Desolate Sand had his reasons for bringing that sickening man Marshall to his end. reasons he would never want to get you involved in.

• his deliverance of justice shouldn't come at the cost of a good heart like yours- so, even if it hurt, scaring you away from him was the safest option

• though, of course, that backfired on him once the infamous bounty hunter Black Rose got her hands on you.

• she was rather livid when she heard that someone else had gotten to Marshall before her-

• he was always at the top of her hit list, and she was expecting to draw a pretty penny out of his death before someone else had stolen the kill.

• turns out pretending to be a bartender is a great way to eavesdrop for information- and, seeing two of her fellow murder suspects chatting so pleasantly at the bar was quite intriguing to her.

• and how convenient that the mysterious stranger confessed to murder within earshot (even though she was already spying on you guys)!!

• "So, tell me, L/N," she cooed, pressing her cold black pistol to the side of your head. "Do you think that killing Mr. Desolate Sand will be enough for me to collect my bounty, or no? Perhaps I should take you out, too, just to compensate for all of the trouble your little lover has caused me-"

• "You get your filthy fuckin' hands off of them right now."

• even though he was far enough away from you that you could only see his silhouette, the rage in his eyes burned brightly enough that he was practically a beacon of raw emotion

• despite his obvious anger, though, Desolate Sand still leveled his revolver at her head with the confidence of someone who's shot it before

• and, though you were relieved to see him come to your aid, that remaining fact still scared you. the man you had grown to love had still killed a man.

• "So, what's it going to be, Desolate Sand?" Black Rose hollered. "You gonna turn yourself over to me so that I can collect my coin, or is pretty little Y/N here gonna have to die first?"

• Desolate Sand inwardly scoffed. it was always about coin in the west...

• the two stood in a silent stalemate for a while. neither moved a single inch out of place...

•...and that was starting to get on your nerves.

• so, you directed all of that pent up frustration into stabbing Black Rose in the gut with your elbow!

• she was actually caught quite off guard, so much so that she stumbled backwards and fumbled with the trigger of her gun-

• and suddenly, BANG.

•...though Desolate Sand's gun was the only one with one less bullet.

• Black Rose howled in pain and clutched her leg, red pooling around the flesh the bullet tore through

• you stumbled back, dazed by the sight, right into Desolate Sand's arms.

• you were at a loss for words- you didn't even know whether to thank him or apologize.

• though the urgency in his eyes told you right away that you had time for neither

• "Y/N, we don't have a lot of time here. The townsfolk will be out here any minute once they hear this broad screaming. She'll say we tried to kill her, so I'm going to get you onto a horse and send you away while I take care of all this-"

• you were very quick to shut him up with a kiss

• he was shocked for a moment, but he found himself slowly melting into it- you tasted absolutely heavenly.

• when you two regretfully pulled away for air, you told him very passionately that you weren't just going to leave him all alone.

• you'd take your hands in his, rubbing your thumbs over his hard leather gloves...

• "Desolate Sand, I... I know you lead a pretty intense life, but... that doesn't mean you have to live it alone. Neither of us do. I love you, and I'm not ready to leave you behind yet."

• he chuckled down at you. "Funny. I was about to say the exact same thing, doll."

• and so, you both made your escape, travelling from town to town in search of a quiet place to settle down

•...though that was quite hard with all of the wanted posters with your faces on them

• yeahhhhhh you're both kind of wanted criminals now I forgot to mention that sorry

• (Well, Desolate Sand more so than you. You're labelled as an "accomplice," and they just never seem to get your nose right on the posters. ;0)

• after everything, Desolate Sand agreed to deliver his justice in a less morbid fashion. despite everything you've faced in the past/will face in the future, you're both just happy to be at each others sides- and no amount of gold could ever compare to the love that you two share. ♡

"Y/N, you've got something these westerners and I lack- a good heart. You constantly prove to be a breath of fresh air in these lawless lands... don't ever change, darling. I'll protect you with my life."

-Desolate Sand!Andrew Kreiss 🕳🕳

[ye0ncore]

teardrops on my guitar - park sunghoon <3

fourth part in the series

note: hi babies! i may or may not have another series in the works for after i finish this one 👀

>> pairing: sunghoon x female reader

>> summary: being in love with park sunghoon isn’t easy. especially when he’s in love with another girl.

>> based off of: teardrops on my guitar by taylor swift

>> rating and genre: g, pg if you don’t like cursing, angst

>> warnings: strong language,

>> word count: 1.6k

drew looks at me, i fake a smile so he won’t see

your heart clenched at the sight of sunghoon. he was in the front of the classroom, with his best friend jake by his side. sunghoon had always been a little bit of a class clown, and jake was always right there with him. the teacher had told sunghoon to quiet down, but all sunghoon did was get louder. the teacher just laughed it off. sunghoon had always been her favorite.

she went on talking about some history topic, you zoning out in the middle of it. you couldn’t find any motivation to actually pay attention, so you let your thoughts wander. and they landed where they always seemed to go. sunghoon. you couldn’t seem to get the boy off your mind. he was always there.

you and sunghoon had always been very close. you basically grew up together, your parents being very close friends. naturally, feelings began to bloom. you caught yourself staring at him when he was focused on something, smiling a little wider when he cracked a joke. your thoughts were interrupted when the school bell rang. everyone jumped out of their seats, basically running out of the classroom. you were one of the last ones out, sunghoon waiting for you by the door as he always did. “hey y/n,” he said, a bright smile on his face.

“hey hoon,” you replied, returning the smile. you walked out of the classroom together, making small talk as you walked to your cars. as you got to yours, you leaned up against the door, smiling up at sunghoon as he spoke.

“hey uh, can i tell you something,” he asked, his aura suddenly seeming uneasy.

“yes, sunghoon, of course. you can tell me anything.” he smiled at your words, calming down immediately. he took a deep breath, before speaking, playing with his fingers hoping you would take the news well.

“okay well um… i met someone. a while ago. and she’s really great. her name is minhee, and i really really like her. no one else knows except for you, obviously. i wanted to tell you first because i trust you the most,” he said, his smile widening as he spoke. yours did the opposite. you felt your smile begin to drop, but you immediately fixed it.

i’ll bet she’s beautiful, that girl he talks about

your heart dropped to the floor at the announcement. you could feel the tears begin to form but you held them back. “oh um… that’s really great, sunghoon. i’m happy for you,” you said, forcing a smile. he didn’t seem to notice, as he smiled wide at your reaction.

“how did i know you’d say that? i’m glad. i cant wait for you to meet her, she’s absolutely amazing.” you could tell by the look on his face how he felt about her. his eyes were bright, and his smile was wide. it’s the way you wished he would talk about you. he kept going on about her, and you could hardly stand to be there any longer.

“hey, um, i got a lot of homework to catch up on… i really gotta go.” your voice was soft, your smile beginning to fade. yet, he still didn’t notice.

he smiled once again, your stomach churning. “of course. you get home. text me when you get home, yeah?” all you could muster up was a nod, quickly getting into your car. he walked off to his, you quickly driving home.

as soon as you got there, the tears began to fall. all that went through your head was the thought of sunghoon with another girl. the thought tore your heart to pieces, and you couldn’t control the tears.

the next day at school was when you met her. “hey y/n,” you heard sunghoon call. you plastered on a fake smile, and turned around to greet the boy. he jogged up to you, holding the hand of some girl. the second you saw her, you could see why sunghoon liked her. she was gorgeous. she had long dark hair, big eyes, and a bright smile. “y/n, this is minhee. minhee, this is y/n.”

you smiled at her, and said a small hi, making small talk. a few minutes later, jake walked up and pulled you away from the two. you two had almost gotten to class when jake stopped walking. “how are you holding up,” he asked, voice laced in concern. you shrugged, not exactly knowing what to say.

“i’m fine.” jake just sighed, clearly not believing you.

“if you need anything, i’m here for you, okay? i know it’s got to be hard on you. just… call me if you need anything, yeah?” you nodded, a small smile forming on your face.

“i will, jake. thank you.” he smiled back and walked into the classroom, taking his seat, you doing the same.

a few moments later, sunghoon walked in, minhee right by his side. what? since when was she in this class?

they sat down right next to each other, your heart dropping once more. you didn’t know how much more of this you could take.

he’s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar

that day after school, sunghoon and jake ran up to you, a big smile on sunghoon’s face. “hey y/n!”

you looked up at him and smiled, greeting him back. “me, jake and minhee were just about to go out to eat. do you want to come?” you were taken aback by the offer, looking to jake, asking for silent advice. you could tell by the look on his face that he wanted you to be there, so you agreed.

“perfect! just meet us there, yeah?” you nodded and everyone made their way to their cars. you took a deep breath before getting into yours, mentally preparing yourself for the next hour or so. you had no clue how this was going to go.

his invite actually made you upset. clearly he didn’t know how you felt. if he did, he wouldn’t have invited you to go out to eat with his girlfriend. the only reason you were going was because of jake, you would have felt like a jerk if you left him there to third wheel all alone. if only sunghoon knew about the way you felt.

you arrived to the restaurant, walked in, and quickly found the table they were sat at. you took your seat beside jake, him smiling up at you gratefully. “hey y/n,” minhee said, her smile bright. you faked a smile back in greeting as the waitress came by to get your drink orders.

“so um… how did you guys meet,” jake asked, trying to get a conversation flowing. you nodded at his question, wanting to know the answer.

“oh, our parents are really close friends. they were all having dinner together a while ago, and they brought minhee. we immediately hit it off,” sunghoon said, the smile never leaving his face.

jake nodded, and kept asking questions about their relationship, only making you more upset. not at jake, you knew his intention wasn’t to make you sad. his intentions were always quite the opposite. you just didn’t know how you were supposed to sit there and listen to the boy you were in love with gush about another girl.

throughout dinner, the two were top tier cringe. they would feed each other, giggle, and make small jokes, basically ignoring you and jake. jake would send you sympathetic smiles here and there, his heart hurting for you. he couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were feeling.

after it was over, and just as you were about to walk to your car, sunghoon grabs your attention. “can we talk for a second?” you nodded despite your nerves, and followed him to your car.

“what’s up,” you asked, wanting to get the conversation over with.

“i just want advice…. y/n, i’m in love with her. but… i don’t know how to tell her.” and that’s when your heart shattered. you nearly fell to the floor, but you managed to keep it together.

“a-all i can tell you is to just be straight forward. do it during a date, or just whenever the time feels right. when it’s time, you’ll know.” he smiled at your words, pulling you into a tight hug.

she better hold him tight, give him all her love

you hugged back, simply trying to enjoy the moment while you could. “thank you so much, y/n. you’re an amazing friend.” you sent him a smile, as he jogged back over to minhee, jake coming to you.

as soon as you were sure sunghoon was gone, you broke down. jake caught you before you could fall, the tears flooding down your cheeks. you couldn’t contain your sobs, as you held onto jake for dear life, him holding you just as tight. “hey, it’s alright, y/n. i’m here, it’s okay.”

he stayed there until you calmed down, even offering to take you home. “n-no. i’ll be okay. thank you jake.” all he did was smile, walking back off to his car once he was sure you were alright.

you got home that night, immediately plopping onto your bed, thoughts plagued with sunghoon as always. there was nothing you could do. he belonged to her now, and she belonged to him.

and he’s all that i need to fall into

you just had to accept it. you were in love with park sunghoon. park sunghoon was in love with minhee. and you were sitting in your room alone on a friday night.

but, if he was happy, you were happy. that’s all you’ve ever wanted for sunghoon. as long as he was happy, you were sure you could push through the heartache. the things you would do for park sunghoon.

i fake a smile so he won’t see…

[lxvestxned]

y/n is massively afraid of toads, but tries to at least touch trevor for the first time with the graceful help of her best friend neville. while also in complete denial about the feelings they are starting to have for neville. fluff + gender neutral reader! 2500 words.

side note: please don’t make fun of me if i got toad-logic wrong in this one — the fear is real bro. LMAO.

Neville talks about Trevor nearly the same way one might talk about a younger brother. Mildly annoying, but also so very important to the point that he could not even remember his life before him.

Trevor couldn’t be a better gardening pal for him, save for when he disappears while Neville is deepest in concentration with his plants. He always entertains Neville’s miniature hat creations, sitting still and proper while Neville has a good laugh.

I could not be happier about his connection to Trevor. I haven’t brought it up to him yet, but Trevor seemed to be an important figure of worthiness to Neville. I also had to appreciate that Neville had the company of a pet in his quiet house on breaks.

I only wish I would have wised up and got on better with the toad.

Amphibians and reptiles are a bit of a sore spot. To put it gently, they are a thing of nightmares to touch or even to look at. Trevor’s skin was bumpy, coarse, and loose looking. Eyes bulging, dark, and unblinkingly horrifying.

Was his skin rough? Was he heavy? Was he slimy? Oh god, and what would his bones feels like? Could Neville feel him breathing in his hands?

My stomach swam to my throat with every thought. However, the guilt from my fear of Neville’s beloved pet made me feel much worse.

I can’t help recalling from years ago, the way I once jumped a foot away from Neville’s attempt at a lighthearted pat on my shoulder. Simply because I was hyper aware that he had held Trevor in that same hand not even five seconds before.

Neville recoiled too, shock washing off his features only while I frantically showered him in embarrassed apologies. He then promptly washed his hands for a full two minutes to make me feel better. The memory was one of those that frequently replayed in my head when I laid in bed trying my best to sleep over the wailing thoughts of regret.

In place of physical adoration for the toad, I bombarded Neville with questions about him any time they struck me. Each was gratefully met with a patient and particularly-amused response from the proud toad owner.

“Trevor is bumpy and all, he sort of feels like really extreme goose pimples— no, acne.” Neville spoke while lovingly stroking his pointer finger down Trevor’s back in the Gryffindor common room.

“He isn’t heavy at all actually. One time I had him in my hand, looked away for a moment, and when I looked back he was gone. I didn’t even realize.” He whispered to me, just as Professor Binns rambled back toward their side of the classroom.

“Trevor’s not slimy!” He said whilst playfully pointing the prongs of his accusatory fork at me, “you’re thinking of frogs! And even then, I’ve read that they only look it and don’t feel it.”

“I don’t know what his bones feel like?!” Neville laughed incredulously, “seriously, where do you come up with these questions?”

Turned out my latest inquiry was the one that lead me to my doom.

The clump of red, yellow, green, and blue students travelled up the snow-white hill, returning from a full and chilly Magical Creatures lesson. I walked alongside Neville on the trek, body automatically crawling with shivers on the thought of toads once again.

“When you’re holding him, can you feel him breathing?”

Neville let out a huff of laughter between pants for air against the hill’s incline. “I suppose so, I mostly notice his heart beat normally.”

“His heartbeat?!” My gloved hands squeezed into tight fists to resist my overreactive imagination from taking over. The ghost of a toad pumping it’s lungs and beating it’s heart in my palms was enough to make me visibly cringe— which I was determined to suppress at all costs.

Hermione, who was a bit ahead of us, slowed to join our pace, “Yes, Y/N, toads have hearts too, y’know.” She said.

“You’re joking!” I announced sarcastically.

“Why don’t you just hold Trevor once, then you’ll have all the answers you need?” Hermione laughed.

“I’ve asked her and she doesn’t want to.” Neville said.

“I do want to!” I sighed, “I just can’t.”

“Yeah, she said she can’t.” Neville reiterated.

“And why not?” If Hermione was anything, she was a problem solver. And I was suddenly determined to prove that I did, in fact, have a plan of action.

“I’m scared,” I said, “but, I figured if I could gather enough information about what exactly to expect... then, maybe I could do it eventually.”

Neville finally lifted his gaze away from the trail at our feet to smile at me. His smile was open-mouthed almost like he had words on the tip of his tongue ready to fall out. But, Hermione spoke up again.

“Honestly, it’s not as bad as you might think. I think you may even be over thinking all of this. Holding Trevor is almost like... like a leather pouch.”

I muttered, “sure, a living, breathing, beloved leather pouch.”

“You should probably try touching him first before you start carrying him around,” Hermione said right as we reached the plateau level with the archway back into castle walls.

Neville and I hung by the archway like we usually do, recapturing our breaths through the rigid air. I did not expect Hermione to stand with us, allowing Ron and Harry to be carried away with the crowd entering the hall.

Her determination loomed over the silence and I felt the need to accept that solution. After all, Hermione was bound to have another seven loaded up and ready to be dispensed. And not to mention, Neville’s eyes had an unwavering sort of gleam in them that I could not quite put a finger on.

I was suddenly and weirdly diagonal with one palm against the brick arch, the other on my hip, and the toe of my boot scuffing the snow. “I could probably do that,” I had to wonder whether I was at all convincing.

“I can help you,” Neville peered into my soul, to which I decided the gleam was, at the least, highly influential.

I gulped, “yeah, I can do it.”

— — —

There Trevor was, 15 centimeters of pure, mind-numbing terror.

I felt like I had only blinked since we were standing out in the pure white snow. Except, Hermione, Neville, and I were very much in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. Comfortable in my casual change of clothes after dinner, but also filled to the brim with dread as the reds of the room edged in my vision.

“Are you ready?” Hermione smiled as encouragingly as she could.

I finally tore my eyes away from the toad perched on the couch’s arm that Neville was half-blocking with his body.

“Yeah, of course! It’s not that serious!” I gave my best snarky smirk, as if I hadn’t just gnawed a small tear into my bottom lip.

I didn’t want to refuse Hermione the opportunity to be a part of her own solution to the problem that wasn’t hers. But, then again, I wish I did only for the sake of privacy.

Hermione’s presence was a bit heavy to endure. She conjured a very deep desire to prove myself a good friend to Neville with her eyes alone. Which meant false bravery was all I could manage to show at the moment. True feelings buried not-so-deep below that crumbling surface.

“You can do it, Y/N, don’t think.” Hermione relayed that unhelpful bit of information atleast a hundred times within the span of the last fifteen minutes. Although, I did entertain it every time.

With the sudden distraction of Neville turning to pick up his pet, I managed to squeeze a “Thank you, Hermione! I got it!” through the corner of my lips.

Unfortunately, every statement of bravery was like a mating call when among Gryffindors. I could feel sets of interested eyes triple upon our little gathering without even lifting my head. In fact, I was almost positive that Dean had made his way from across the room to lean over the couch cushions from behind.

I wasn’t ready for Neville to stand from his spot on the couch, nor was I ready for him settle down in a kneel in front of me. I could’ve forgotten Trevor entirely with the way I was focused in on Neville’s face. He hadn’t looked one bit nervous, which was a rare and reassuring sight. I had to smile at the thought that, for once, I was the one emitting enough nervous energy for the both of us.

He was pretty quiet up until that point, so his voice made my breath quicken as finality closed in around me. “I’m going to help you, alright?”

That was it, no going back. My face felt as though it was glowing redder than the room. The fluttering in my stomach clashed awfully against the dread that was already shacked up there. I clenched my jaw tight, trying desperately for a look of certainty as I nodded.

Trevor sat comfortably still between Neville’s palms, face nearly pressed into Neville’s chest. I almost wanted to joke that it looked like I was about to be proposed to with the arse of a toad, but Neville brought some humor of his own.

A mischievous grin crept over his lips first, “and you can wash your hands right after.”

I grinned despite the huff of sorrowful air that escaped me. The horrid memory filled me with a brand new sense of urgency to right my wrongs. I held him by his shoulders, “I’m really, really, really sorry about that!”

Neville almost bent forward in hearty laughter, until he realized that he shouldn’t bring Trevor any closer. “No, I know, I know! I was trying to lighten the air.” He shook his head gently, “Come on now.”

I scooted forward in my seat to plant my feet flat on the carpet, fists already balled up tight. “Yeah, come on now,” I echoed, perfectly-thoughtless, as Hermione instructed.

“I’m going to hold him right here, and he’s not going to move. All you have to do is put your fingertips on mine, okay?” Neville instructed so gently that I was ironically totally overwhelmed.

I took the look around the room that I was avoiding, and sure enough, Gryffindors were gawking from every angle. Hermione nodded and Dean was smiling extra wide.

I couldn’t find words. Instead a single shaky hand of mine unwound itself and reached forward. It very unhelpfully occurred to me at that second that I had never even touched Neville’s hands before. And you know what, it shouldn’t be strange to admit your best friend has nice hands. Because he does. Not helpful information, but definitely information.

I was almost worried that my aim was so shaky that I would miss his nails altogether and jab Trevor.

But before I knew it, I was touching the hand that was touching Trevor. Which, of course, reintroduced the smile to my face when reminded of Neville’s joke.

“Yes! Now, I’m just going to pet Trevor, and you can keep your fingers on mine until you’re ready, alright?”

I was too nervous to move my gaze from Trevor any more, but I presumed from the cheer in Neville’s voice that he was smiling hard.

He slowly moved his fingertips to the top of Trevor’s head, and I had to press harder to keep from slipping astray. Then, Neville did exactly as he explained.

My upper lip began to furl up as my imagination ran buck wild in my mind. The worst of all textures invaded my senses and made me want to cringe out of existence. My eyes squinted at the seemingly violent breathing and heart beating that bumped against his warty surface. Our fingertips stroked down his back so many times that my movements felt robotic.

It was automatic enough to break my stare away from it when Neville called my name, “are you breathing?”

I blinked a few times, and let in a gasp of air that I hadn’t even realized I needed. “Apparently, not.” I laughed, surprised by my hushed volume.

“Merlin, so much suspense for this?” a Gryffindor near the windows was met with a brief glare from Neville, but he concentrated on me.

“Why don’t you take a big breath, and then try putting your fingers in front of mine?”

I loosened up my face, as I took a deep breath in. The long breath out allowed my other hand to unwind as well. I parted my teeth, while my fingertips eased on to the very tip of his nails. “Okay,” I tried another deep, thoughtless breath.

“You can do it, Y/N.” He whispered.

I blinded myself with my unoccupied hand.

Trevor felt gravelly.

Like extreme acne.

His breathing was not nearly as noticeable as the racing heart, beating at the top of his body.

He had a spine.

Noticeable only because the several wobbly scribbles of a line that I tried to draw was not nearly as straight as the subtle ridge at the center of his back.

I eased the hand off of my eyes. Sure to embarrass myself as the sting of tears felt closer than ever. When I looked between us, the room felt a little bit bigger. Almost like we weren’t surrounded by onlookers awaiting my first true reaction.

Our knees were resting so carelessly against each others. Neville’s hand was no longer stroking Trevor with me, it was upright exactly the way someone would hold a ring box ajar. His face was flushed pink, a dopey smile on full display.

My heart floated up and out of my body, drifting high above my head like a balloon. A smile of my own lit up my entire face, while I cupped my palm on Trevor’s back like Neville did minutes before.

Dean and Hermione congratulated me on my fierce battle versus a backwards toad.

But then Trevor made an awful noise that made me jump to attention.

“Okay, Trevor’s done for... the rest of the year.” Neville hurriedly placed the toad on the table behind him.

When he turned to face me, the tiny bit of nerves that infinitely plagued his features returned while he was very caught up between continuing to kneel or standing up.

I hopped to my feet, helping Neville choose to straighten himself up as well.

“That was amazing, Y/N!”

“You’re, you’re— amazing, Nev!” I must have forgotten to resume thinking because I trapped him in a hug. His arms pressed against his sides and all.

After a burst of his nervous laughter rattled through the air, he tried to hug me in return. When only able to bend at his elbows, he hovered his hands over the edges of my back for a moment. Until finally he placed his hands even softer than the touch I just shared with Trevor.

Dean and Hermione swapped looks then, and I had to shut my eyes to pretend I didn’t notice.

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.19)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Nineteen) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,883 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Eighteen || Part Twenty || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Staring into the bathroom mirror, you wiped underneath your eyes at where your mascara had started to run. You were heartbroken and confused. What had you done wrong to make them want to give you away? You had been imagining then that Tony was becoming softer towards you and you had slowly started responding in like. It had been foolish of you to think you could find some sense of happiness living there, as if either of them actually cared. Tony had been acting weird as of late now that you thought about it more and Steve had stayed away. Like they had been planning to separate from you. And Tony fucking you last night… like it was the last hoorah before sending you off. And he could not be here to do it himself as Steve said. That made you more furious than anything else.

You should not be surprised; Johns lost their interest eventually. But you had let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security. You had told Tatiana yourself that they were just like all the others when you had been first whisked away to stay in the apartment. When had you let them wear down your wall?

“Stupid,” you whispered to yourself.

And now you found yourself stuck on a ship with another man who you had no idea what his real temperament was. You were starting all over again, stranded.

Your mind went to your apartment, all your things… Luna. You closed your eyes, trying not to think of everything that Steve had made you leave you behind this morning. It was too much, you needed to focus. Survive here and find out how that was going to be possible to do.

Since you had left your purse in Steve’s car – your ID and everything, fuck – you had left your makeup behind. You had essentially ruined your mascara, but your eyeliner still looked decent. You touched up your eyes with toilet paper before taking a few deep breaths.

A knock came at the door and you took a couple more moments to look at yourself before you tore yourself away from the counter.

<><><>

You were hunkered down in the speedboat, shaking still. It had stopped moving but you were not making any effort to move. Steve was talking to you, but you did not want to look at him, let alone focus on what he was saying. Your arm hurt where you had cut it and blood was running down your arm. Your opposite hand came to the blood, running your fingers over it before holding it out, staring down at it. It was deep red, wet.

Steve’s hands were at the necklace at your throat, and he unclasped it, taking it from you. “Here, Buck. Take that back to the office. It should be recorded. The evidence we need if anything comes up.”

“It was,” you heard Sam confirm.

Steve got up from beside you and moved around, coming to the other side where your injury was.

You felt a sharp sting and hissed, snapping out of your haze to jerk away from him. You took in his appearance; he was bloody, his hair disheveled. You had never seen him not looking pristine except for after the two of you had rolled around in the bed. He was wearing a dark suit, an actual stealth suit. You remembered you had seen him on the yacht, beating the shit out of some of the guys. He had been wearing it then.

Steve held tight and said, “Stay still, Y/N. I’m cleaning it!” Eyes moving down, you saw he was wiping at your cut with hydrogen peroxide. No wonder it was stinging. “I don’t think you need stitches which is a good thing. Did you get hurt anywhere else?”

Anywhere else? Of course you had! You wanted to scratch his face.

“You left me!” you said loudly, finally finding your voice. “You sold me!”

“Good to know that you can still talk. I thought we’d lost you there for a moment. But they’re dead, Perez included. Don’t worry about it,” Steve told you as he moved to grab gauze. He said firmly, “No one is coming for you. I wasn’t leaving you there permanently.”

He held it there before placing a large bandage wrap around your arm, securing it.

“Come on, we have to get out of here,” he told you, standing up.

The two other men, including the one who had flown you off the boat – Sam? You recognized him from the press – were standing up in the boat, keeping an eye out. Steve tapped you to move and you glowered up at him.

“You can rot for all I care!” you snarled at him.

Steve rolled his eyes before swooping down and picking you up in a fluid motion. He slung you over his shoulder and you shouted in protest, hitting his back as he climbed out of the speedboat.

“Take it down the coast and leave it where we agreed,” he ordered the other two.

“You got it,” Sam said in response as you continuously hit Steve’s back.

“Y/N, you’re going to make yourself bleed more,” Steve said sounding annoyed as he started walking up the dock. You stared back at where they were in the boat, pulling back away. You hit him again and he ordered roughly, “I said stop it! You’re going to injure your arm more!”

You heard the sound of his car alarm beeping and he opened the door before placing you down. He held you firmly in place and said threateningly, “You’re going to sit in the car and we are going to go back to the apartment. Is that clear?” Your lips curled and his fingers dug into your shoulders. “Y/N.”

The apartment. Like you wanted to go back there. But at least you could have privacy there and lock him out. You just needed to endure a car ride with him. You got into the car, throwing your seatbelt on angrily as Steve closed the door and came around the other side.

The first part of the ride was silent, you staring at the window, trying to will yourself not to cry as the shock wore off and the impending feeling of helplessness came over you about the whole thing. You had not had any control over any part of that situation, tossed back and forth like a rag doll and kept in the dark apparently if what Steve said was true about not meaning to leave you there for real.

Where was your purse? You thought suddenly.

You looked around before turning to look into the backseat, spotting it on the ground next to the briefcase he had taken. Steve noticed you looking at it and he finally spoke.

“Think about the money you got today. That put a huge dent in what you owe. Huge dent.”

Turning a hateful eye at him, you scowled. That is what he wanted you to think about? Money? And acting as if you had earned it knowingly?

“Stop talking to me,” you snapped, scooting further away from him, up against your door. You turned away from him as far as you could to put your back to him.

“That’s what would be the smart thing to do, Y/N,” Steve continued on. “Focus on that goal of yours to pay it off.”

Tears welled up and you told him, sniveling, “I don’t care about that! How… how could you think about that right now?” Steve started to speak but you unwound yourself, throwing your hands out. “No! You used me! You threw me to the wolves! I could’ve been hurt! Did you even stop to think about that?”

“You were helping out SHIELD,” Steve said as if that was supposed to mean anything.

“Then use a fucking SHIELD agent!” you exclaimed, your voice strangled.

“I couldn’t. There were none that would not rouse suspicion. You have been seen with me and Tony. They know you’re the real deal.”

“You could have at least, I don’t know, fucking told me!”

“It needed to seem authentic.”

You stared at him, aghast. You gasped, “Authentic? You needed my fear to be authentic?” Steve said nothing and your vision blurred with angry tears. “Well, I’m glad you got what you fucking needed! Good for you!”

Turning away from him again, you clenched your jaw so tightly you thought your teeth would crack. You just wanted to get away from him.

<><><>

Over his Bluetooth, Tony saw that Daryl was calling him and he immediately picked up. “Daryl?”

Daryl said, “She’s back. So just giving you a call like you asked.”

“Is Steve with her?” Tony asked him, switching lanes, needing to turn around and head back the opposite way on the highway.

“Yeah, they’re getting into the elevator,” Daryl answered before he added, “I don’t know what happened, but she looks terrible.”

Tony demanded, “How do you mean terrible?” Under his breath he hissed, “Move, you piece of shit!” at this car that was going far too slow for his liking.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m talking to some fucking jerk off who doesn’t know how to drive. How do you mean she looks terrible?” The worst was coming to his mind, thinking of how she looked after that asshole ex of her had had his way with her.

“Definitely been crying. She’s got a bandage on her arm. She’s keeping her distance from Mr. Rogers. Should I follow them up?”

Shaking his head as he took a left off the highway to head back to the onramp going east, Tony said firmly, “No. I’m on my way. Let me know if he leaves.”

“Sir?” Daryl asked, confused.

“Let me know if Steve leaves,” Tony repeated. “And if he does, ask him where he’s going. If you can catch him.”

Daryl sounded concerned when he said, “Okay… you got it.”

“Great,” Tony said curtly before hanging up the call, and merging onto the highway, squeaking his way into the left lane, cutting someone off, who honked. He paid them no mind as he cut someone else off in the right lane, weaving his way through the slower drivers.

<><><>

Y/N had stormed down the hallway without words, only a choked sob leaving her throat. She went into the bedroom, slamming the door closed, and he heard the lock fall into place. Steve sighed heavily, stopping in the hall himself, debating about trying to get her to open the door. But, he had tried to talk to her in the car and she was not interested. Give her space, that is what his gut told him. At that though, he turned on his heel, walking back towards the front door.

Steve beckoned Terrence from down the hall and when he approached, Steve said, “Stay in here. She’s in the bedroom, doors locked. Make sure she doesn’t do anything reckless. And don’t take any drinks from her.”

“Learned my lesson last time. And what do you mean by reckless?”

“Anything past chugging down some shots if she comes out here,” Steve told him, adjusting his watch on his wrist. He shook his arm out and said, “Tony will be here soon, I’m sure. And then he can take over for you. I just don’t want her being left alone right now in the state she’s in. Make sure to check in on her every once in awhile until Tony gets here though. Knock on the door, make sure you get a verbal confirmation.”

“If she’s sleeping…?”

“I think she’s too rattled to sleep, Terrence. But doors are easily replaced if you feel the need to kick the handle in if she’s not responding.”

Terrence shrugged, “Alright.”

“Thanks,” Steve said before reaching for his keys and swiping them off the counter. “I’m counting on you.”

On his way out of the lobby, Daryl approached him. “Is everything okay?”

“It’ll be fine. Y/N just had a rough go and she just needs some space to come down,” Steve answered.

“You’re leaving her though? Where are you going?”

Steve eyed him and said, “Yeah… I’m leaving. Terrence has it handled. He’s keeping an eye on her.” He saw the look on Daryl’s face and Steve snorted. “I told him to not take any drinks. The man learned his lesson. Anyways, Y/N is pouting in her bedroom and I don’t think she’s going to come out for a while. So, he’s got it under control. I need to go back and finish the debriefing for the mission. Get yourself something to eat, you look jittery.”

With that, he left Daryl standing there.

<><><>

“He’s gone,” Daryl said, meeting Tony’s stride when Tony came into the lobby, practically speed walking.

Tony swore under his breath before asking, “Did you talk to him?”

Daryl nodded, “Yeah, for a moment. He said Y/N’s pouting in the bedroom, Terrence is in the apartment to keep an eye out. And he said something about having to go debrief the mission?” Tony stopped at the mention of that on a dime, stopping to face Daryl. Daryl looked back at him nervously at the murderous look on Tony’s face. “He didn’t say anything past that.”

Letting out an angry growl, Tony shook his head before exhaling sharply, “Thank you. That helps.”

Tony entered the apartment, finding Terrence sitting at the dining table, messing around on his phone. He looked up, hearing Tony enter, and said, “I checked on her a few minutes ago like Mr. Rogers asked me to continue doing. She’s still hysterical as all hell, but she responded.”

Furious, Tony shook his head, snarling, “What the hell did he do?” Terrence looked confused by the question and Tony purposely ignored it, not wanting to deal with all the bullshit going on between him and Steve at present.

Tony tried to open the bedroom door, but it was locked. For the umpteenth time today, he sighed angrily and said through the door, “Y/N. Open the door.”

“No!” she shouted out back at him.

He had been here before and this time Steve was not here to stop him from entering the bedroom. Although, this time he was going to have tact about it. He went back down the hall to the kitchen and grabbed a butterknife from the silverware. He was worried and he was not about to just leave her in there by herself. He unlocked the door with ease, much to Y/N’s fury.

“Stay out!” she snapped at him, sitting up, the blankets falling to her waist. She looked a sight, her makeup having left black underneath her eyes, trails running down her cheeks. Her eyes were puffy and red.

Tony ignored what she said, coming into the room, and closing the door behind him.

<><><>

Of course Tony knew how to pick a lock. That was preschool shit to him. And of course he was not listening to you; when did either of them ever? The sight of him infuriated you.

“I told you to leave me alone!” you snarled as he came over to the bed. He was approaching with caution. He sat on the edge of the bed and that was still way too close. “Tony, get out!”

Tony’s eyes fell to the bandage on your arm, and he started to reach for it. You were gone in the blink of an eye, startling him in the process. You did not want him touching any part of you.

“Don’t touch me!” you sneered at him, pulling away from him, wrapped up in the sheets. They prevented you from moving any further and you sat defensively, hands planted by your hips.

Tony held up his hands, keeping his distance. He sunk back down to sit more on the opposite side of the large bed. He was keeping his eyes trained on you, like he was afraid you were going to lunge either at him or away.

“What happened?” he asked evenly.

You let out a bark of a laugh. What was he playing at? “Are you serious right now? What do you think happened? You two and your stupid little plan! You left me! You let him take me because you…  you’re a fucking coward!”

He looked at a loss. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut up!” you snapped back at him, furious he was trying to act oblivious and wash his hands of it. “I’m tired of playing games with you two! When are you going to let me go?” Tears welled up at that, all over again. You were tired of crying over men. Especially men who had no regard for your well being.

Tony ticked his jaw, studying your face. Your chest was heaving with your anger; you were sure you looked rabid, like a cornered animal. And that is how you felt, truly. He scooted an inch towards you, and you leaned back causing him to still his movement again, an angry sigh leaving his lips.

He fought to keep his voice calm and even as he said, “Y/N. I really, really have no idea what you are talking about. And I would like you to explain it to me. Where did Steve take you?”

You searched his face accusingly, trying to find the crack in his façade of innocence. But you were met with the worry in his eyes, despite his tranquil tone, and you realized that maybe he was being serious. He seemed to really not know what had transpired. Still, you kept a wall up, thinking perhaps he was putting up a good front; they had both ruined your trust at this point. You would tell him what happened, play his game, but you were going to be watching him like a hawk.

Wiping at your eyes, you spat, “The docks. He sold me!”

“Excuse me?” Tony asked, unable to hide the venom behind his voice.

“But he wasn’t really selling me, turns out. Spoiler alert.” You gave a humorless laugh, wiping at more tears that had started to spill over. “He came here and made me get dressed up and rushed me out the door. Saying he had to go to a meeting. When we got there, he was selling me to this guy and getting money for a shipment. He… he left me there! With all these men I didn’t know. And he said you knew and you both were tired of me, that I wasn’t new anymore.” You were watching Tony grow more and more furious, like he was bursting at the seams. And it only encouraged you to go on.

“The guy who bought me, Perez, I don’t know. He was trying to be accommodating but I hated him, I could already tell. He wasn’t kind, he was donning a mask. I know men well enough to pick up on that. I… fuck,” you said, tearfully. Tony was keeping his distance still, listening with rapt attention. You shook your head, “I was sitting next to him and he was touching me. And all of a sudden, there were just b-bullets flying. I got thrown to the ground and my arm caught on the corner of the table. It was loud and I didn’t know what was going on. Then S-Sam? I think that’s his name. The one with the wings. One of your Avengers.”

Recognition flashed across Tony’s face you saw at the name and description.

“He grabbed me and took off from the boat. I hate heights. I hate them. And he dropped me back on this boat that was just floating out in the water before leaving me there by myself. There was a lot of shit going on on the yacht that I could see from where I was.” You sighed shakily. “I don’t know. They came back eventually. Steve, Sam, and that metal armed guy. They were covered in blood. And it’s… I was back in the car…” You were starting to lose steam at all the explosion of emotion you had been emanating and reliving the chaos. “Steve told me… told me that I had made money to go towards my debt to you guys. And I should be happy about that. But he didn’t tell me anything! I thought… I thought he was leaving me there. And that I had done s-something wrong!”

You caught Tony’s eyes again. He was staring at you, flabbergasted, his lips parted in shock. His head shook ever so slightly, and you crumbled then, seeing the stricken look on his face at what you were telling him. Like it was all new to him and he was horrified. He had not betrayed you like Steve had said. Your bottom lip warbled, and you threw yourself across the bed at him and he caught you clumsily. Your fingers dug into his back and you broke down into sobs into his shoulder.

Tony’s arms came around you, his grip tight, one hand at the back of your head.

“I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong!” you wailed, it muffled into his collar.

You stayed embraced, Tony’s hand at your back rubbing. He kissed the side of your head and said quietly, “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.” And that only made you cry more. “I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know. I… I don’t know what he was thinking.”

He really had not known. Steve had lied to you about that too. He had snuck in and taken you away with Tony was not here. You could not help but to think about how it would have been different if he had been here. You probably would not have gone at all. Your fingers dug in again into Tony’s back.

When your cries began to subside as your energy began to wane, Tony started to pull away and you looked up at him worriedly, “Don’t leave!”

“I’m not going to. I’m just gonna go out to the kitchen. You… would you like to rest?” You sniffled, your brow stitched. “Tylenol PM, love. I think sleep will do you well. I promise I won’t leave while you sleep. But I think it’ll help. What do you think?” You whimpered quietly and he said reassuringly, “It’ll help.”

Forcing yourself to nod, you let him pull away. You grabbed your blankets, holding them tight as he walked out of the room, silence filling the space where he had been.

When he came back, he held out the pills and the glass of water to you. You took the pills from him and swallowed them readily. He was right, sleep would do you well. You just wanted to escape whatever you were feeling right now. The water went down too and you handed him back the cup. You watched him place it on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, anxiously waiting for him to come back.

Tony kicked his shoes off and pulled off his suit jacket, tossing it on the end of the bed.

You curled up next to him the moment he was there and focused on your breathing. You were trying to keep the anxiousness back at bay, just willing sleep to overcome and do it soon.

~~~

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