#halfway through he starts crying or something and it almost creates a flood

[wannabe-minion-of-chaos]

Thinking about how in that one stick of truth trailer we could've gotten Giant Clyde in the game...not that I'm disappointed at all with what we got because Clyde leading a dark army with the stick was fucking awesome but sometimes I like to think about what that would've been like

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

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Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[abbacchiosbelt]

Glory and Gore | Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader

CW: Predator/prey, non-con, degradation, violence, and mind-break. 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 2.6k words.

Taglist: @babyybitchhh​, [Ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future pieces!]

Your lungs burn, your legs starting to ache unbearably from the strain of running as fast as possible. The air in the night feels thick and oppressive, sticky sweat covering your forehead and body as you push yourself to your limits. Dark trees go as far as you can see, the breaks in the treetops allowing starlight to barely illuminate your path. Your instincts are telling to you run harder, faster, but your heart is pounding so hard in your chest that you can barely think. A twig breaks ahead of you and you nearly scream, covering your mouth at the last second. 

“You’re trying so hard, little bunny. But you’re just prolonging it now.” The deep voice sounds from the shadows, forcing you to turn on your heel from the thing you’d been running from. It’s futile, though - your shoe catches and you fall to the ground, hard. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you scrape for purchase, chest heaving. Leisurely footsteps approach you, the figure coming out from behind the trees with a sick smile on his face. He approaches you and uses his foot to kick you over, the impact making you wheeze even harder. 

Toji Fushiguro towers above you, dark hair slicked back and gaze predatory. Fear floods your veins and you gasp, trying to force words from your throat. He puts his foot on your neck and presses down, smiling when he sees you thrash from the pain. The pressure gets heavier and heavier until you think he might crush your larynx, but he lets up at the last second, licking his lips.

“Your screams from earlier were so pretty. It’d be a shame to shut you up before I have my fun.” He stalks around you, like a predator sizing up its prey; you never stood a chance.

[ A shout from the lobby of your workplace alerts you - you scramble to find your phone, dropping it when the next scream is bloodcurdling. No... Your organization - a small but well-renowned company that helped support Jujutsu Sorcerers - was supposed to be completely safe. The sorcerer that guarded the entrance was Grade 1, and yet... Your eyes widen when you see a stranger enter your floor, hands dripping with blood. A sinister smile paints his face, and he zones in directly on you.

“All alone up here? I’d guess you’re not a sorcerer, then...” He laughs as he watches you cower, trapped. The only exit was directly where he was standing. “It was too easy down there. How about we play a little game?” He sidesteps away from the staircase, crossing his arms. “Run away, little bunny. See how far you can get. Maybe I’ll spare you if you show me some fun.”

You don’t respond, horrified. Your feet carry you forward before you can think, your instinct to survive kicking in. The carnage downstairs makes your stomach heave, and you start to cry. The only thing pushing you forward is your instinct to run. ]

“P-p-please,” you manage to whisper. All it earns you is a laugh, Toji leaning down to leer in your face. Now that he’s closer, you can see the pinpricks of his pupils and the controlled look in his gaze. He wasn’t the crazed sorcerer killer that the rumors painted him as; he was calculated, cold. Masterful in his killing, creating carnage so disgusting that even experts who had seen it all were horrified. Your throat dries out at the final realization that you are utterly and truly alone with him, trapped.

Toji stands up to his full height again to look over you. You dare to look up at him and your stomach heaves when you see the sizeable bulge growing in his pants. He notices your look and palms himself, letting out a hiss of pleasure. “Nothin’ gets me going more than seeing little sluts like you realizing their place in the world.” He leans down and uses one hand to tear your blouse open, the buttons popping off and scattering amongst the dirt. “Someone with a set of tits like these belongs locked away.” Toji crouches over you, his knees on either side of your hips. He towers over you, even on his knees. His calloused hands pull your bra down so that your nipples are exposed, the fabric uncomfortably pushing your skin up as he gropes the flesh. Toji twists one of your nipples, his cock jumping against your abdomen when you whine in pain. “What a cute little bunny you are.”

“S-stop, please, I-I’ll do anything-” Your eyes widen in horror when you realize what you’ve said, Toji’s sadistic grin growing wider.

“Anything?” He replies, tone mocking. “Okay, I’ll do something else.” Toji leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard - you cry out, but it only encourages him. He alternates between rolling your nipples harshly with his rough fingers and sucking them with fervor, his tongue darting out to flick the sensitive buds. The uncomfortable feeling makes you squirm, your body reacting against your will as you let out a garbled moan. Toji lets your nipples go as he looks up at you, the oversensitive buds aching in the night air. “See? Your body knows what it wants. You were made for this,” He purrs. Toji bends down and captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, forcing his tongue in your mouth. You feel disgusted by his sloppy kiss, his lips and tongue assaulting your mouth as you struggle beneath him. It forces your breasts to rub against his chest and you whine again, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes. 

Toji finally pulls back, a line of spit connecting his mouth to yours, his eyes half-lidded. “You can’t handle it anymore, huh?” Toji stands up and slides his pants halfway down, revealing his cock. Your eyes go wide - it was thick and veiny, so girthy that you didn’t know if it would fit. His balls were just as impressive, hanging low and heavy beneath his cock. Toji pumps himself, rolling his foreskin down to reveal the bulbous red head, precum pearled at the tip. “Like what you see, little bunny?” You shake your head, the tears that had collected in your eyes beginning to fall. Toji laughs, pumping himself a few more times. “Cry any harder and I won’t be able to control myself.”

“No, I don’t want this,” you cry, cowering as Toji steps closer to you. He tsks and leans down to flip you over, manhandling your body like it was nothing - and it was nothing, to him. Toji was preternaturally strong, his muscles bulging beneath his clothes. You try to slap his hands away as he goes to rip off the skirt you’d worn to work, and Toji responds by slamming your head into the dirt and holding it there with his free hand. You whine as he holds you there, using his other hand to rip your skirt off like it was nothing. He rips your panties and throws them to the side, leaving you completely bare on bottom. Only a second later you feel his hot length pressing against you, his cock’s fat head nudging your entrance. “N-nooo,” you whine. Toji slaps your ass hard enough that the sound echoes and you cry out, helpless.

“Your cunt is dripping,” Toji leans over you, his heavy body practically crushing you into the ground. He nips your ear lobe and nudges his cock through your slit, collecting the juices that you shamefully knew had collected there. You didn’t want this - you wanted to be anywhere but here, but your body was responding to Toji’s harsh treatment without your consent. “I bet your little pussy has never had something so big in it,” Toji rasps, rutting against you again. “You’ll never be satisfied with anything else.”

Before you can brace yourself, Toji aligns his cock with your dripping entrance and pushes in, jolting your whole body forward. It feels like you’re being torn apart as his fat cock stretches you out, the veins rubbing against every ridge inside of you - it feels like there’s no room but he just keeps going, filling you to the absolute brim, until you’re sure he’s going to break you. “Oooh,” you cry, your mouth hanging open. “Too much, it hurts-”

“Just relax, bunny,” Toji says. His tender voice tricks you into complacency for just a moment before he’s shoving his fingers in your mouth and forcing it back, his fingers affixed like a hook in your mouth. It stings but it’s nothing compared to the way he’s fucking you, his hips already snapping against you at a brutal pace. “See, your little pussy was greedy, it’s taking me so well,” Toji growls, pulling his fingers harder. You drool around him, your face a mess as tears, runny makeup, and saliva cover your skin. Each thrust sends pushes you forward as he slams into you. “So damn tight-”

Toji doesn’t let up, and you think it might never end - the burning stretch combined with his cock rubbing against your walls is almost too much, the pleasure-pain becoming indistinguishable. He’s fucking you in just the right spot so that you can feel heat building in your stomach, and despite all you want to do to stop it, you can’t. “Ooh gohd,” your slur out over his fingers, tongue lolling out the side of your mouth. Your walls tighten around his cock and Toji grunts.

“I knew you were a slut, knew you’d get off on this,” Toji doesn’t struggle at all to speak through his thrusts, his pace unrelenting. “Come on, then. Cum on my cock, you whore.” 

You cry out over his fingers, garbled, as the pleasure building in your lower half snaps, half pleasure and half shame as you clench around his cock. You hear Toji grumble explicatives from behind you, your tight walls proving too much for even him. It only takes a few more snaps of his hips before you feel hot ropes of cum shooting inside of you. Toji pushes you down on the ground, crushing you, as he forces you to milk his cock. The damp scent of the earth and the heady scent of his sweat fills your nostrils, tears welling in your eyes again. It hurts and it was wrong but your pussy is still throbbing, aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body even over the crushing weight of Toji’s muscles. 

He pulls out and leans back up, taking his weight off of your body. You gasp for air, your mouth sore from where his finger had hooked into it. Maybe he’d leave you alone now - you jump when you feel his hard cock slap against your ass, stomach twisting in revulsion. You slowly turn your head to look back at him and see his cock standing at full attention again, shiny with a mix of your juices and his cum. He smirks. “You thought I was done? I said I wanted some fun, little bunny.”

Toji bites his lips as he looks down at you, thinking. He grabs your ass with his hands and spreads your cheeks apart, making you writhe in embarrassment. Toji notices your discomfort and his cock twitches - you’d sealed your fate. “You have a cute little hole, huh? Ever been used before?” He spits, the liquid foreign and uncomfortable against your asshole. 

“Not there, i-it’ll hurt,” You plead, eyes starting to water again. “Can’t you u-use my mouth?” Toji merely laughs as he pumps his cock, using two fingers to swipe through your messy slit before he spreads it over his cock. 

“It’ll be fine. Your cunt is so sloppy that I don’t need lube,” Toji replies, pumping his cock one more time. He gets up on his knees and hikes your hips up so that your lower half is planted on the ground, your legs and hips aligned with his cock. “Just relax, or it’ll hurt worse. And you don’t want that, do you, bunny? I certainly don’t mind.” 

You shudder, turning your head back and willing yourself to relax as best as you could. Your body is tense, every muscle telling you to run, but you know you won’t be able to make it an inch before Toji catches you, or worse... 

“Good girl,” Toji coos, mocking. He wastes no more time allowing you to adjust, pressing himself against your tight hole until the tip of his cock breaches it. “God damn,” Toji hisses, letting his cock slide in inch by excruciating inch. You dig your fingernails into your palm so hard that they leave red-shaped crescents, the stretch and pain of Toji’s cock inside of you unthinkable. It burns but you can’t deny the uncomfortable pleasure rising out of the pain, feeling shame as your cheeks burn. Everything about tonight was wrong and disgusting, but your body had been responding with eagerness. Maybe Toji was right, maybe you were just a whore - you can’t think of anything else, not when his cock is so deep in your ass. He finally bottoms out and groans so loud that it makes you shiver. “Fuck, you’re tight. You feel so damn good,” Toji rasps. “M’glad I spared you.”

The reality of the situation is lost on you, your only response a strangled moan. Toji grunts in pleasure from behind you, slowly pulling his cock back before he pushes back into you again. He grabs your hips tight enough that you know they’ll bruise before he starts pumping in and out of you, mercifully starting his thrusts at a slow pace. You claw at the ground, no longer sure what to do, your mouth hanging open as you drool onto the dirt beneath you. If you just gave in, you’d be better off for it - your body relaxes when you shut your mind off, giving in to the man behind you.

“That’s better.” Toji takes advantage of your decision to give in, pistoning his hips against your ass as he fucks you like an animal on the forest floor. His heavy balls slap loudly against your pussy on every thrust, the mix of juices and his cum producing a wet slapping sound that makes your lower half pulse. It was so disgusting and wrong but it felt so good now; it felt so good to be used like this, to give in. 

Toji was a predator, and you were prey. That was the way of the world.

It takes Toji less time to reach his peak, your tight virgin asshole sending him over the edge as he cums in you again, panting. He pulls out and uses your discarded shirt to wipe his cock off, paying no mind to you. The lack of his support makes you collapse on the ground - you feel pathetic, laying there with both holes spent and leaking out his massive loads. Toji regards you with disgust, sneering at your position.

“What a disgusting whore you are.” He kicks your side and you cry out in pain, rolling on your back and forcing yourself to look at him. To him, you must have looked lower than dirt. Toji tilts his head to the side, giving you a scrutinizing look. “I did say I’d spare you if you were fun.” He smiles, sinister. “And you were. You have potential. It’d be a waste to kill you... or to let you go.”

Toji leans down and scoops you over his shoulders like you were a sack of potatoes, your body weight not even registering to him. You should fight, or scream, or do anything - but you don’t, instead closing your eyes as you rest uncomfortably over his shoulder. He pats your ass once before he starts to walk.

“I’m taking you home, little bunny.”

[thicctails]

Summer Of Whump Day 26 [Asphyxiation/Drugging]

Three more to go!

Ω

 The warning came too late.

 Omega had been moving as fast as she could, worry clouding her mind as she limped and stumbled her way through the shipyard. Cal held her hand the whole time, supporting her when she came close to falling. His own Force signature buzzed with nervous apprehension, and he kept glancing up at the sky, like he expected a fleet of Imperial ships to come out of hyperspace right in front of them.

 The sun was halfway over the horizon, its pale glow bleeding into the sky and turning the night into a muted pinkish-yellow backed by a sea of dark blue. The light would wake the sleeping clones they’d left on the Jedi cruiser, and she was not looking forward to the lecture they were likely in for when they got back. Perhaps their warning of approaching danger would distract them long enough to forget about her and Cal’s little escapade.

 They were just over halfway back to the ship when the ground began to creak.

 The two children stopped in their tracks, looking down at the smooth metal they were standing on. They stood there for a moment, unmoving. When nothing happened, they started to move again, slower this time. The metal groaned, and Omega gasped when she felt that warning buzz explode into the back of her mind. Suddenly, the ground beneath them gave way, sending the startled kids plummeting downwards.

 Omega screamed, arms flailing out as if to search the air for some sort of purchase. The feeling of dropping into nothingness made her stomach flip and her heart lodge itself in her throat, almost choking her cries of terror. Cal was still gripping her hand, his hold tightened to the point of painfulness by his own fear. She could feel his terror through the bond, and it only served to increase her already thundering heartbeat. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the ground rushing up to meet her.

 Suddenly, she hit something, the force of her impact wrenching Cal away from her. He fell for a short while more, before she heard him hit something as well. Smooth rubber rubbed against her, coiling around her limbs and wrapping around her torso. The serpentine object snapped taunt, and Omega wheezed when she felt a pressure form around her neck and chest. She tried to wiggle free, but that only made the tightness increase, further cutting off her air supply. Panicking, she managed to get an arm free, and she pulled what felt like a thick wire away from her neck. She couldn’t hold it for long, but it allowed her to take in a few desperate gulps of air before her strength gave out.

 Her leg was screaming in agony, the wires pressing into her injuries. Her neck and back were also aching, though the pain was far less. The Force around her crackled with worry, whispering soothing words that she couldn’t quite understand. It urged her to summon it, to use the power she’d been created to wield to save herself. Gritting her teeth, she listened to the quiet whispers, reaching out and gripping the wire around her neck. The Force guided her movements, and she focused her remaining energy on breaking the wire. The power came to her easily, and the wire tore in half with a whip-like snap.

 Air rushed into her lungs, and Omega collapsed in exhaustion, sagging against the wires. She panted, chest heaving as she took in the much needed oxygen. Her eyes drooped, made heavy by the amount of effort she had just exerted. Someday, she might have more stamina when it came to using the Force, but today was not that day. Against her will, darkness filled her vision, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

   Hunter jolted upright, a gasp catching in his throat. He ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. He’d just been caught in a terrible nightmare. In his nightmare, he’d been leaning over the edge of an enormous drop, his hand outstretched. Below him, stuck in a tangled mess of fraying wires, was Omega, her eyes filled with fear but also shining with trust and relief, like she knew, with absolute certainty, that Hunter was going to be able to save her.

 “Come on kid, reach for me.” He’d said, leaning down as much as he could.

 And she had. She’d reached her little hand up as much as she could, their fingertips almost touching as they both stretched as much as they could.

 Then the wires snapped.

 It was like some unseen hand had sliced them with an invisible knife. Hunter lunged forward, nearly toppling over the edge with how fast he moved. Omega had jolted forward, crying out in fear when her hand just barely missed Hunter’s own.

 “Hunter!” Her voice had sounded so broken as she disappeared into the darkness, and it had echoed even after she was gone.

 Suddenly, the inky void had moved, wrapping around his wrist and tugging him down into the black hole. That had been what woke him up.

 Now he was back in the waking world, and the gentle glow of day shone down on him, chasing away the darkness of sleep. He took in a deep breath, easing himself back down. He could hear that no one else had woken up yet, their heartbeats calm and slowed by sleep. He was surprised that his sudden movement hadn’t woken Omega up. Rubbing his eyes, he reached down to make sure that she was still sleeping calmly, needing the reassurance that she was okay.

 He found nothing but an empty space, devoid of the warmth that should have been there.

 He brought his hand down, frowning as he looked around. Their pile was missing two little bodies, the space beside Hunter and Crosshair lacking the children that had been curled up there last night.

 “Kids?” He called softly, not wanting to wake his vode if they had simply gotten up early and were hanging around.

 He waited, listening for a reply, whether it be in the form of a verbal response, or just the pitter-patter of small feet coming closer.

 Nothing. Not a call, not a noise of acknowledgement, not even the quietest movement.

Panic-laced worry rippled through Hunter, and he gave his closest vod, which happened to be Crosshair, who’d had his chip removed last night, a light kick. His youngest brother snorted, rolling onto his stomach.

 “What?” He hissed. Crosshair was a night owl, through and through, so waking him up at sunrise had always left him a bit agitated. It had been such a pain when they had been younger.

 “Omega and Cal are gone.” Hunter said, getting up.

 Crosshair’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked around to confirm Hunter’s statement.

 “Kark!” He yelled, getting to his feet. The others startled awake at his yell, various noises of complaint and confusion coming up from the pile.

 “What’s going on?” Rex asked, sitting up and stretching.

 “The kids are gone.” Crosshair growled, getting on his armor. “Maker damn it, they’re going to make me keel over from stress.”

 “Gone? How can they be gone?” Wrecker asked, sitting up. “We were all right here, so nobody could have taken them, right?”

 “No, we would have woken up if there was a struggle. They likely just wandered off. We all know how curious Omega is.” Tech said, quickly putting on his goggles. “I’m sure they’ve just gone to look for something to poke with a stick, or some other childish game. They’re fine. Totally safe.”

 The words were said to try and comfort, not because he had any real proof that what he was saying was true.

 “Let’s hope you’re right. Tech, Wrecker, Echo, you three search the halls. Rex, Crosshair, come with me. We’ll check outside.” Hunter commanded.

 A sinking feeling had made its home in the depths of his gut, and he wanted nothing more than to find Omega and Cal quickly so that he could shake it off.

   The world came in fuzzy at first, a blurred mess of muted yellows and dusty reds. Cal groaned, wondering why his head felt like it was going to burst open at any moment. He opened his eyes wider.

 Ah, he was upside down. That explained some things.

 It took a few seconds for panic to seep into his frazzled mind, but once it does, he’s scrambling to get upright. One of his hands finds a wire, and he grabs it, pulling himself up. It’s at times like these that he’s so thankful for the core muscle strength he’s built up through his years of padawan training. Cal gripped the wire with the strength of a hundred clone troopers, shaking as he waited for the feeling of dizziness that washes over him at the sudden movement to pass.

 There are wires wrapped all around different parts of his body, mostly coiling around his waist. His breathing picked up, his heaving breaths almost matching his rapid heart rate. He whimpered as the wires swayed, trying to ignore the fact that, if he fell, he’d be little more than a stain on the ground.

 He closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, searching for Omega. He found her nearby, her Force signature dimmed ever so slightly by the veil of sleep. He tried to call to her, but he gets no response.

 ‘She must be really deep in sleep.’ He thought to himself. He was worried that she might have hit her head on something, and that she might be unconscious rather than asleep.

 “’mega.” He croaked. Cal coughed, his throat feeling sticky.

 “Omega!” He called again, louder this time.

 Nothing.

 Damn. Guess he’s going to have to do this the hard way.

 Cal brought a hand down to his waist, gripping the smooth handle of his Master’s lightsaber. He ignited the weapon, the bright blue glow illuminating his surroundings. Carefully, he sliced away the wires around his legs and waist, wrapping his legs around the one remaining wire that he was holding on to. Once he was free, he let the lightsaber deactivate as he clipped it onto his waist.

 When he’d first touched the lightsaber after he’d ended up on Bracca, the flood of memories had almost broken him. His psychometry could be a blessing at times, but it could also be a terrible curse. The Force had wavered in his despair, his connection with it becoming damaged. He used to have a variety of skills that he could call upon, but he had lost many of them to his trauma. He’d regained his ability to throw things with the Force when he’d needed to protect Omega from Chex, and he wondered if, over time, she would also be the key to regaining what he’d lost.

 He shook his head, clearing his mind so that he could focus. Gripping the wire, he started his assent, relying on what minuscule amount of sunlight could reach down into the newly created hole to see. He climbed up the wire, grunting with the exerted effort. He hadn’t been keeping up with his daily exercises in the past weeks, so he was a bit out of shape. Once he was high enough, he started to swing back and forth, praying that the wire would hold.

 Soon, he was close enough to jump to the jumble of wires and cables that were supporting Omega’s limp form. He held his breath when one of the wires snapped under their combined weight, his stomach dropping as he realized that the wires might not be able to hold them both.

 Once the swaying came to an end, he slowly climbed up, relying on his leg and stomach muscles to support him as he gently shook Omega.

 “Omega? Omega, get up!” He commanded, gripping her shoulder.

 The pressure must have startled her, because she jolted awake, her limbs flailing. Cal increased his grip, trying to calm her down.

 “Stop it! You’re gonna make us fall!” He hissed, looking up at where the wires were coming from.

 “Cal?” Omega breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you okay? I heard you hit something after we got separated.”

 “I’m a bit lightheaded, but I’ll be okay. What about you?” He checked her over, frowning in concern when he saw how it was wrapped around her leg.

 “I’ve been better.” She admitted.

 “Do you think you can climb up one of these wires?” Cal asked.

 Omega shook her head weakly. “I don’t even think I can lift my arms. I’m sorry.”

 “It’s okay, Omega. We’ll figure something out.” He reassured her. “Maybe I could carry you up?”

 Omega arched an eyebrow. “I think I might be too heavy for you.”

 “You don’t look that heavy.” Cal responded.

 “Thanks, but I’d rather not risk it.” She said, shifting a bit.

 Suddenly, one of the wires holding her arm snapped, causing her to fall to the right.

 “Kriff! Looks like we might have to!” Cal cursed.

 He reached for his lightsaber, but paused for a moment when a sound reached his ears.

 “Wait, I think I hear someone.” He looked up towards the hole that they had fallen through.

 “These two seem incapable of avoiding trouble. We should have found them by now.”

 “Crosshair!” Cal and Omega shouted.

 There was a flurry of footsteps, and then three faces appeared over the edge of the hole.

 “Kids! How the hell did you get down there?” Hunter called.

 “We fell!” Omega called back.

 “We can see that. Hold tight, adike, we’ll get you out.” Crosshair said, before disappearing from view.

   Crosshair looked up at Hunter, who’s brow was furrowed in worry.

 “What’s the plan, sarge?” He asked.

 “We need to find a way to get down to them. Rex, come with me and help me find some wires or cables. Crosshair, keep them calm. I can hear that those wires are gonna give any minute now.” He lay a hand on the ground. “This whole area is fragile, and I don’t trust it not to collapse, so let’s get out of here quickly.”

 The sniper nodded, and the captain and sergeant ran off to find the needed items. He leaned back towards the edge, hands gripping the weakened metal. Another wire gave, and Crosshair jolted forward on reflex as Cal and Omega yelped in fear, hand twitching forward as if he could just reach down there and scoop his kids up and bring them away from the danger.

 Wait, his kids? When had they become that?

 ‘They day they trusted you enough to save them.’ A traitorous little voice supplied. ‘And now, they’re doing it again. Don’t break that trust.’

 “Udesiir, ade.” He called, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring. “Everything will be fine, just keep calm and try not to move.”

 “O-okay.” Omega replied shakily. “Crosshair, could you teach us that language you guys have been speaking?”

 Crosshair gave her a slight smile. “Of course, it is, after all, your language too. “

 Omega returned his smile, and managed to stay still as he taught them a few basic words in Mando’a. By the time Rex and Hunter managed to gather the needed supplies, both Cal and Omega could introduce themselves and ask for help. The older clones tossed down a line of wires, old but sturdy rope, and some spare cables. Cal used his lightsaber to cut Omega’s torso free (which startled the men because who gave the kid a lightsaber?) before tying part of the line around her. Once she was secure, he cut all but one wire, clinging to the swaying object for dear life.

 Carefully, Rex, Hunter, and Crosshair carefully began to pull Omega up, inch by inch, not wanting to test the strength of the old materials they were using. While they did that, Cal shimmied his way up his wire, reaching the exit before Omega did. Just as he hauled himself up, the wire came loose and fell down into the darkness. The redhead collapsed onto his back, shaking from all the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins.

 As soon as she was close enough, Hunter grabbed her as fast as he could, bringing her into his chest. The blonde haired girl curled into him, gripping his armor with shaking hands. His arms wrapped around her, shielding her from the world as he hoisted her up.

 “I can hear the metal starting to give, we gotta go.” He said, backing up.

 Crosshair scooped up Cal, letting the kid rest his head on his shoulders. Rex quickly stepped back as the edge of the hole crumbled away with a screech, the metal snapping off into smaller chunks.

 “Go,go,go!” The captain yelled, making sure that Crosshair and Hunter had started running.

 It was like his words had triggered the forming of a sinkhole. Metal collapsed all around them, the rapidly expanding maw of darkness nipping at the armored clone’s heels. A lesser group of soldiers would have been too slow to escape the danger.

 Luckily for everyone involved, clone troopers were anything but lesser.

 Hunter leapt up onto a chunk of ship, gripping a broken wing and hauling himself up with one hand. Rex and Crosshair were not far behind, easily maneuvering their way to safety. Below them, the ground disappeared, swallowed up by the collapsing cavern. Hunter stared at the emptiness, swallowing when he realized that Omega and Cal could have been trapped down there, crushed beneath tons upon tons of metal.

 “Why,” He rasped, looking down at Omega, “did you leave without telling any of us?”

 Cal raised his head, eyes wet with tears that had formed from all the adrenaline going through his little body.

 “I-it’s my fault. I needed to go get my Master’s lightsaber and I asked Omega to come with me. I-I didn’t think we’d be gone very long, or-or that we’d run into trouble.” He stammered. “But then we ran into that ghost, and then the ground broke, and-and-and-”

 “A ghost?” Rex asked. “As in, a Force Ghost?”

 “That’s a thing?” Hunter asked.

 “I’ve only heard of it briefly. When a Jedi Master dies, and they don’t decide to become one with the Force, they can manifest themselves to other Force users.” He explained.

 “So… the kids can talk to dead Jedi.” Crosshair pinched the space between his eyes. “Wonderful.”

 Suddenly Omega gasped, sitting up.

 “OhmyMakerthewarning!” She said in a rush. “Hunter, we need to get off Bracca!”

 “What, why?” The bandanna-wearing man asked.

 “The Imperials are coming! We’ve got to get out of here before-!” Omega cut herself off, her eyes widening in fear.

“Omega?” Hunter questioned, turning to see what she was looking at.

 His heart just about stopped.

 For there, looming high above in Bracca’s atmosphere, was a Subjugator-class heavy cruiser, black as the void of deep space. A fleet of smaller ships appeared all around it, screaming through the skies.

 The Empire had found them.

[optimizche]

Angelic: Cleanse (Park Chanyeol/Reader)

Her

Biting back the smirk upon my lips, I turned to kiss Junmyeon with everything I had. Hands curling into his dark hair, I moaned into his mouth, rushes of his power traversing through my body, directly mirroring the ardour with which he was kissing me. The light of the Archangel embedding its roots into my soul, enveloping it in a cocoon of warmth and safety. 

I welcomed it, as I welcomed Junmyeon into my body, legs tightening around his hips while he slowly began to push into me. Agonisingly slow, opening me up to him. Sliding so gloriously thick into my hungry walls. Letting out a gasp at the feel of him sinking into me, I fell into him, my breasts flush against his strong chest.

He felt solid, pulsating with need within me and I shuddered against him, just barely haven taken in his tip. 

"Baby," he moaned, sounding so ruined already that it almost broke my heart. Gentle hands cradled my hips, holding me close. 

"Jun..." I sighed, eyes falling shut and an euphoric smile playing on my lips. 

Inch by glorious inch, he slid into me, my walls immediately wrapping so snug around his every ridge and vein. A pleasurable, glowing sense of gratification building within me the deeper he sank. 

I had read that the deflowering of a female usually came with pain, but with Junmyeon, there was none. 

And neither was there any fear in my heart. I wanted him in me. He belonged there. 

And I wanted Chanyeol to watch. 

It gave me a vindictive sense of joy, when I opened my eyes and looked over Junmyeon's shoulder to see pain glowing crimson in the demon's eyes. 

I knew that only I could see him watching us, since he had infiltrated my soul. I knew that he was invisible to my brothers. 

And that gave me an immense amount of satisfaction, knowing that the demon was going through hell, seeing me being taken by my brother. 

Not him...

It was Junmyeon's strained groan against my jaw that pulled my attention back to him. Hands gripping bruisingly into my hips, he was holding me, having pushed halfway into me. 

His tip was nudging against my barrier. The one he had to breach before we truly became one. 

"I'm so sorry, princess. This will hurt..." 

"No, it won't," came Yixing's velvety voice in my ear, his chest against my back. His rigid length resting flush and warm between the cheeks of my bottom. "Let me take the pain away..." 

Before I could ask what he meant, I felt Yixing's hand curve its way around my body, going down to where Junmyeon and I were connected. My breath hitched when he began to stroke me, anointing his fingers in my arousal, fingertips rubbing wet and warm directly into my bundle of nerves. 

A long moan fell from me, as I realized that Yixing was using his own healing powers, sending them in waves through my entire being. Erasing the pain of what was to come...

When Junmyeon finally, finally pierced through my barrier, spearing me to the hilt upon his cock, I let out a sound so sinful, it sounded unrecognizable to my own ears. 

Heat and warmth of my brothers flooded me, and I trembled between them, thrumming with pure pleasure. A tear fell from the corner of my eye. 

It felt so full. Like an aching emptiness inside me had been filled after centuries. Like I had suddenly been completed. 

And a glance at Junmyeon's face told me that he was feeling it too. 

"My goddess," he breathed, never leaving my depths as he made me lie back upon his pillows, a dismissive hand gesturing for Yixing to step aside for the moment. Await your turn, she's mine for now. 

Gently, he withdrew from me, until only his tip remained, before slowly sliding back into me.  Just that single movement left me trembling, fingers curling into the sheets beneath me.

"Look down. Look at us becoming one at last," he groaned, starting to roll his hips into mine in deep, agonizingly deep thrusts, finding a delectable rhythm of push and pull. 

I complied, obediently heeding his command, the sight of his thick, reddened and veined cock glistening with my slick as it glided into my swollen pink walls drawing a moan from my throat. 

"We were always meant to become one," I moaned, head falling back, fresh beams of starlight glowing behind my closed lids. "I was created for you. To become yours..." 

"Yes, yes you were, my sweet," he sighed heavily into the curve of my neck, the warm weight of his body falling upon mine, keeping my legs spread wide for him. 

Junmyeon began to plunge into me, deep enough to send the muscles in my thighs quivering around his hips, his strength beginning to flow again into me. 

My toes curled, head lolling back and my mouth hung agape, lewd moans bubbling forth from deep within my throat as ecstasy coiled hot within my core. I felt like I was floating upon a cloud, my body taking on a mind of its own. Opening up to him in every single way possible, wanting to bathe in his light. And in the pleasure he was making me feel.

"Yes, yes! Ohhh..." I moaned, hands running up the rippling muscles of his back to find the scars on his shoulder blades.

Beneath my caressing fingertips, I felt his wings begin to unfurl. Pure ivory tufts, their wingspan double than that of my own, strong enough to crush me if he wanted. 

But he didn't. 

He was drunk on the pleasure he was deriving from my pliant body, his thrusts beginning to come harder, more insistently now, sending my body rocking up and down from the rhythmic rolls of his hips. 

Seeing him lost in ecstasy only served to heighten my own. And I found myself speaking words I had never imagined I'd ever be speaking. 

"Tell me, Myeonnie," I moaned, threading my fingers into his hair. "How do I feel? Do I feel like you had imagined every time you touched yourself?" 

He groaned desperately into my neck at my words, his thrusts losing their mellowness steadily. Turning sharp. Brutal. Leaving me keening violently with pleasure underneath him.

"I want to worship you and only you until the end of my eternity. I want to build you a temple and offer supplications at your altar, everyday..." he said, painting my breasts with a smattering of angry bruises left behind by his full, fevered lips. 

A flush bloomed in my cheeks at his words and I turned my head to the side to glance at Yixing. The sight I was met with made my mouth water. 

Sitting down on the couch with his legs spread wide, Yixing was stroking his cock in time with Junmyeon's thrusts into me. 

I bit down on my lip when my eyes fell upon his face. Eyes darkened completely with lust, he was watching us with nothing but hunger and need written upon his face. 

Reaching out with a trembling hand, I beckoned him to me, my other arm wrapped around Junmyeon's neck. Trying to ground myself in the wake of his now maddened thrusts. 

I knew that Yixing wanted to be inside me so desperately, but it was a testament to his self control that he managed to remain seated right where he was, giving his head a slight shake. 

He knew that he couldn't dare to interrupt his older brother while he was...

"Oh, fuck, Junmyeon..." I gasped, my legs tightening around his hips, using the leverage to pull him deeper into me. "I'm... I..." 

"I know. I feel you..." he let out a shuddering gasp, his breath warm against my cheek, hips colliding relentlessly into mine. "Come all over me. Drench me, baby." 

At his words, the building tidal wave of ecstasy swelled monstrously, frighteningly within me. 

And then with a violent snap, it burst forth, drawing out an agonized cry from me.  

Muscles spasming violently around his cock, I soaked him in my release, the wet sounds of him still sliding in and out, in and out of me making me blush, even in the throes of pleasure. 

Above me, Junmyeon was biting down hard on his lip, his expression pained, using every bit of his iron-clad restraint to keep himself from letting go just yet. 

The pleasure swept through my body in waves. In violent tides that grew gentler eventually, leaving me whimpering kittenishly, my chest heaving. 

I felt winded, weakened even further, lying limp and spent beneath him, thighs trembling but spread wide open in his grasp. 

In one swift, fluid motion, Junmyeon lifted me up, using barely any effort, to perch me upon his lap. The new position made him slide even further into me and I moaned weakly, falling forward over his shoulder.

"Jun, oh God, you feel so..." I choked on my words, because it was difficult to formulate a coherent sentence in my mind that was swimming with pleasure. My cunt tingled from overstimulation, just barely having recovered from the feel of his cock. 

Hands on my hips, he was guiding me, making me rise and fall upon him. Impaling me upon his cock with hardly any effort. 

This display of his strength made me shiver, the arch of my back growing taut as fresh pleasure began to bloom between my legs. My head fell back and I dug my nails into the roots of his wings, allowing him to use my body the way he wanted. 

"Tell me," he groaned, burying his face into the softness of my breasts. "Tell me how I make you feel, babygirl." 

"You feel like paradise..." I moaned, eyes rolling back into my head, my fingers threading into the silk of his hair. "You feel like... home." 

He was touching places within me that I had never known to exist, that sweet and warm push and pull of him sending me spiralling into a pleasant delirium. 

Eyes glazing over, I felt another sharp snap within my very being, before I was being abruptly flung off the edge once more. 

But this time, something strange began to happen. 

With every shudder of my body, I saw a glow burst before my closed eyes. So lost was I in my own pleasurable glow, that I barely heard Junmyeon's groan as he flooded my womb with his seed. 

I whimpered, pressing my lips to his temple, at the sensation of his warm seed filling me up. The purest form of his light settling into my core.

He spilled within me, in seemingly endless spurts, the heat of him spreading through my body. Seeping into my bones.  Ensconcing me in a bubble of safety, the way he had done since the very first day of my life. My body welcomed it gratefully, a sigh of satisfaction leaving my lips.

And when I finally came down from my high and opened my eyes, I saw that I was glowing. 

From every inch of my naked flesh, silvery-gold wisps of light were emanating. Swirling around in the air in an enticing dance of light. 

Amazed at the sight, I raised my hands from where they were resting on Junymeon's chest and brought them closer to my face. Eyes examining them intently. 

The wispy swirls of gold and silver mist glowed. Nebulous and ephemeral. Seeping out lazily through every single inch of my flesh. 

"What is this, Jun?" I asked, my voice as weakened as I was. "What is happening to me?" 

Junmyeon slowly slid out of me, his softened and soaked cock nestled comfortably against my folds. 

"We're untangling your soul from his, princess," he murmured, lips warm against my cheek. "You see these starlit wisps? Silvery and golden? That is your soul." 

I was dumbstruck, mesmerised by the curling and twisting rays of pure starlight that were flowing across my body. 

A smile found its way to my lips when I felt Yixing's hands on my hips, gently raising me up to my knees, before setting me down on his lap. With careful hands, he guided me onto his lap, my thighs resting on either side of him as I straddled him. 

He looked at me, eyes alight with love and lust. His hands slowly swept up my waist to palm at my breasts. Kneading the supple flesh into his palms, he began to suckle at my nipples. 

Eyes glazing over with want, I allowed him to do as he pleased, grinding shamelessly down upon his cock while he devoured my breasts. 

Hands on my hips, he mirrored my movements, drenching his painfully hard length in my dripping arousal, coupled with Junmyeon's seed.

"Do you want me, baby?" he asked me, sweeping my hair away from my face, lustful eyes admiring how my taut nipples glistened with his saliva. 

Hands weaving into his hair, I leaned down to kiss him, moaning at the sweet, indulgent strokes of his tongue against mine. 

"Please, Xing..." I pleaded between fevered, hungered kisses. "I need you. Inside me." 

Feeling him nod against my forehead, I rose up on my knees above him, giving him the space to align himself with me. 

With an almost drunken gaze, I watched him grasp the base of his cock, running his fist over the glistening and reddened flesh a few times before bringing the head to rest firm against my aching cunt. 

I glanced up, at his face, struck momentarily by the amount of love and want I could see on his beautiful face. 

But then, Yixing brought his hands to my hips and began to lower me upon his cock. 

Instantaneously, my eyes rolled back into my head, a new wave of ecstasy breaking down upon me while he sheathed himself so painfully deep within me. 

"Yixing..." I moaned, falling forwards, against his chest, my wings spreading open behind me. The strength of his arms immediately took hold of my waist, cradling me against him while he rested, thick and unyielding, so snug within my walls. 

Pure instinct took hold of my mind, and wrapping my own arms around his neck, I used the leverage of my knees pressing into the mattress to begin rising and falling upon his cock. 

The distant sound of Yixing's moan against my neck made my lips twitch with a smile, the dig of his fingers on my hips telling me that I was doing something right. 

But I was far too absorbed in the pursuit of my own ecstasy, my body taking on a mind of its own, hips bucking and grinding against his. Forcing him to plunge deeper into me every time. 

Every inch of my flesh was aglow, wisps of my soul shimmering brighter as I climbed my peak, the obscenely wet sounds of our bodies colliding giving me a savage sense of satisfaction. 

I was drenched between my legs, my arousal coupled with Junmyeon's seed leaking warmly from my cunt every time Yixing slid home. Leaving me quaking with the rushes of power and pleasure running wild through my veins. 

Yixing was occupied with painting my neck and my breasts in a flurry of bruises left behind by his hungry lips, adding more to the mosaic Junmyeon had left behind. 

At the very thought of him, I felt a warm hand gently thread into the roots of my hair, turning my face so that I was meeting his lips. I sighed heavily into the plushness of Junmyeon's lips, shuddering weakly against Yixing's chest at the surge of euphoria my Archangel sent through me. 

"My starlight," he whispered between kisses. "My moonbeam. You are glorious." 

I moaned into his mouth, our mouths moving ravenously, tongues gliding hot against each other.  The passion in his kiss brought tears to my eyes. Somehow, it felt like he was kissing me goodbye. 

"Promise me," he breathed, when he withdrew.  "Promise me you won't forget about us when I draw him out of you." 

Eyes glazing over from the pleasure, I looked at him, then at Yixing. 

"I promise," I murmured. "I won't." 

For barely a moment, Junmyeon looked at Yixing, then nodded. 

With a hand pressed firm against the small of my back, making sure that he never left my depths, Yixing skilfully manoeuvred our bodies to lay me down on my back. 

I bit down on my lip when he forced my legs apart within his grasp, beginning an achingly slow rhythm with slow, sensual thrusts. 

My head fell back onto the pillows, tears starting to spill from my closed eyes at how incredible it felt. The constant rub of his thick cock against my swollen and sensitive walls made pleasure flow through my every nerve. 

"Yixing..." I moaned, hands running up his back, to find purchase upon his wide shoulders. "Please..." 

"You're so beautiful like this, princess," he groaned, and I found myself whimpering at his praise, a warm flush colouring my cheeks. 

He ran a gentle hand through my hair, before gathering the locks at the nape of my neck and giving them a tug. Tilting my head back, making my back arch painfully. 

"Let us purify your soul while we adulterate your body," Junmyeon breathed into my ear as he knelt near my head. With tender hands, he made me relinquish the grasp I had on Yixing's shoulders, pinning my wrists down upon the bed on either side of my head. "Be a good girl for us and keep those legs wide open." 

Obediently, I spread my legs apart, so far that the muscles in my thighs twitched from the stretch. 

Pleased, Yixing buried his face into the swell of my breasts, his body fusing entirely into mine, the weight of him upon me keeping me restrained beneath him. 

And then, he began to fuck into me with sharp, precise snaps of his hips. 

"Oh, ohhhh..." I moaned, wishing, fervently in the midst of this mind-numbing ecstasy, that Chanyeol could see me like this. 

Completely immobilized by the hold my brothers had over my body, I could do nothing but keep my legs spread open to receive Yixing's painfully deep thrusts. 

My arms struggled for a few moments within Junmyeon's iron grasp, for I yearned to touch both of my brothers, my fingers itching for the contact. 

But within minutes of Yixing's delicious assault on my body, my struggles quelled and my limbs went lax. Mouth hanging open, my eyes rolled back into my head and I was aware of nothing but the slickness of my arousal and Junmyeon's leftover seed leaking still between my legs, while the remainder of my body was covered in a sheen of sweat and saliva. 

I felt so filthy and debauched and I revelled in it. 

It felt good. It felt so fucking good. 

It was Junmyeon's breath against my ear that drew me out of the pleasurable cloud I was floating upon. 

"It is time, princess." 

My eyes fluttered open to glance at Junmyeon's adoring face while he hovered above me, then to dart toward the window behind him. 

I felt my heart stutter. 

Chanyeol had drifted closer to the window, a hand pressed firm against the glass of the pane. The demon watched with hungry yet pained eyes at how effortlessly my brothers unravelled me. 

His eyes glowed crimson, and I felt myself shiver at the intensity of his gaze. 

I knew that he could see everything: the way my cunt drenched Yixing's cock, making it glisten obscenely as it slid in and out of me. Or the way my breasts were bouncing in time with his thrusts, painted rosy with the bruises he and Junmyeon had left behind. 

I bit down on my lip when his eyes found mine, and I let out a moan so loud that it made his eyes widen. Yixing was artfully curving his hips into mine, his shaft rubbing into my most sensitive spot with every plunge. 

My back arched painfully as I steadily climbed up the peak to my ultimate finish, my eyes refusing to leave Chanyeol's. 

Even though it was Yixing who was plunging into my depths, somehow the eye-contact I had with the demon in the window felt more intimate. 

Let him watch, a vindictive voice in my head spoke. Let him see what he can never have. 

A soft smile found its way to my lips and I relinquished whatever hold I had on reality, my mind completely overriden by delirious ecstasy. 

My eyes rolled back into my head and all I could see was white, bleeding into an impenetrable darkness. 

"That's it, moonbeam," came Junmyeon's voice in the distance, even though he was whispering against my cheek. "Let it all out. Let us take him away from you..." 

"Yes..." I moaned, my nails digging into Yixing's shoulders while I teetered precariously on the edge. "Take him out of me..."

 It all happened so fast then.

One of Junmyeon's hands came to cup my cheek, pulling me to meet his lips, while his other hand rested upon my left breast, directly above my racing heart. While his tongue swept against mine and Yixing continued to make quick work of my gushing cunt, Junmyeon's fingers delved into the silvery golden wisps of my soul. 

Trying to find the blackened, infernal taint of the devil. 

When his fingers closed around it, I let out a broken moan into his mouth. 

And just as Yixing's last, pounding thrusts sent me flying off the precipice, Junmyeon began to pull Chanyeol's soul out of mine. 

All I could feel was pain and pleasure. 

All I could see was light being engulfed into a realm of darkness. 

In the distance, I could hear an agonized, blood-curdling scream which I recognized as my own, coupled with someone else's voice...

Who's voice was that? 

And then, suddenly, all I knew was oblivion. 

___________________ 

Him

Chanyeol could feel his blood roiling through his head, his heart thundering away inside his chest. 

Inside the confines of his pants, his cock had grown heavy and painfully hard. 

The sight before him was going to be the death of him. 

Seeing her, his sweet and innocent angel being ravished so mercilessly by her own brothers, it drove him mad in the most delicious way possible. 

"Fuck..." he muttered, the sight of her tight, swollen cunt being filled by Yixing's cock making him weak in the knees. He knew that he could fill her up a thousand times better than the insipid angel. 

He could smell her in the air, so thick that he could almost taste her. She was mouth watering.

And the sounds that fell from her lips was the most marvelous music to his ears. 

Chanyeol could feel his heart tear with the frightening intensity of his desire. He wanted her upon his bed. He wanted to be the one who knelt between her legs, plunging into her so deep that he etched himself inside her silken walls. He wanted to hear her call out his name in that breathlessly innocent, yet sinful voice. He wanted to see her reddened, well-stretched walls stained pearly with his seed, even more leaking out of her, down her creamy thighs.  

This is all that he had wanted, until her foolish brothers decided to get in the way and robbed him of his yearning to be the one to deflower her.

He was filled with a murderous rage, seeing the way the two angels touched her wanton body. 

Junmyeon's hands clasping at her delicate wrists, his lips upon hers, locked in a kiss so deep that it made Chanyeol's heart ache. 

Yixing's mouth relentlessly making bruises bloom into the supple flesh of her breasts, one of his hands stroking slick circles into the bundle of nerves within her folds in time with his thrusts. 

Trapped between them, she writhed and trembled, drenched between her legs and shimmering bright like a supernova from the light of her soul. 

She was a goddess. 

When her eyes met his, Chanyeol felt a jolt of thrill run through him. Mesmerized by the glow in her doe-eyes, the demon was unable to look away from her. 

She was glorious, especially in the throes of pleasure. 

She was divinity personified.

Never in his entire existence had a woman affected him this absolutely. And yet, here she was, the subject of his dreams, in the arms of someone else. 

Unable to break away from her eyes, Chanyeol felt himself falling into an abyss. And abyss of an emotion so foreign that it shook him to the core. 

It was... He was... 

"Falling in love, son?" came a snide voice beside him and he whipped around to see his father, Satan, standing there. 

"Jiyong," Chanyeol spat, every single emotion in his heart evaporating, to be replaced by hatred. And fear. 

His father ignored him, eyes glued to the scene unfolding before him inside the bedroom. 

"Seven hells, she's exquisite," Jiyong sighed wistfully. 

"She's mine," Chanyeol said, barely keeping the anger in his tone hidden. 

"Not for long," Jiyong sang happily. "Oh look, little Junmyeonnie has found the taint you left in her soul!" 

Horrified, Chanyeol turned to see that his father was, for once, speaking the truth. Junmyeon had indeed found the darkened, tainted wisp that he had left embedded in her soul when he had first kissed her. 

Seizing the opportunity of having him distracted, Jiyong grasped Chanyeol by the neck and forcefully wrenched him away from the window, tossing him effortlessly to the ground. 

Landing with a force that knocked out the air from his lungs and almost shattered his spine, Chanyeol looked up at his father standing over him. 

"F-father..." he huffed. "What are you-" 

"I'm sorry, son," Jiyong said, in a mocking tone that indicated his utter lack of remorse. "You've had your time to play with her. She's mine now." 

Chanyeol looked up at his father in disbelief. "No, no she's-" 

The demon was unable to complete his sentence, because a sudden, immense tidal wave of pain came over him, forcing a hoarse scream to leave from deep within his chest. 

Chanyeol could see nothing but bright light before his eyes, as he writhed on the ground in blinding pain. 

"I... I..." he gasped. 

"Don't you see?" Jiyong sneered from somewhere above him. "The angels are pulling you out of her. You will feel her pain because your souls had almost melded together. Almost." 

With that, Jiyong brought his foot down, hard, upon Chanyeol's chest, the blow easily shattering several of his ribs. 

Unable to breathe from the pain and unable to scream, Chanyeol curled into a fetal position, shuddering as blood filled his mouth. 

He spat it out. 

Jiyong knelt down beside him, reaching out to tenderly wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth with a crimson silk handkerchief. The gesture made Chanyeol recoil in the midst of his torment, reminding him of the time Jiyong had similarly knelt over Yifan, stroking his hair after torturing him. 

"Don't worry, boy. She won't even remember having ever met you after they're done drawing your soul from hers," he said, gently, almost lovingly stroking his son's face. "And I promise, I'll keep her like a queen in Hell. If you behave, maybe I'll let you watch me take her." 

"You... you're a psychopath..." Chanyeol panted. 

Jiyong hummed, unaffected, before rising to his feet and snapping his fingers. "I grow tired of our conversation, boy."

Out of nowhere, three tall figures materialized on either side of him. 

One of them, Chanyeol recognized as Seunghyun, his uncle. The keeper of the prisons of Hell. The other two were his sons. Chanyeol's cousins. 

"Youngho. Yoonoh. I shall require you to take your beloved brother to the dungeons of my castle. Give him the cell next to Yifan?" Jiyong commanded in a sing-song voice, a wide smile playing on his lips. 

"Of course, Uncle," the two young demons responded in unison, moving in tandem to grab Chanyeol by his arms roughly, making him wince in pain. 

He spat out the bitter blood that had accumulated in his mouth at Jiyong's feet. "You will pay for this," he breathed angrily. 

Jiyong's smile widened and he glanced at Seunghyun, who chuckled. 

"You see, brother?" Jiyong told him. "He's adorable when he threatens me." 

At this, Seunghyun began to laugh loudly. 

"Anyway," Jiyong sighed dramatically, drawing out a jewelled dagger from his pocket. "Let's go. I have an angel to claim." 

Before Chanyeol could even open his mouth to respond, Yoonoh and Youngho were pulling him through a portal of black smoke they had conjured out of nowhere, taking him straight to Hell. 

[swiss-mrs]

Let There Be War (1/?)

(Clyde Logan || Hunger Games: Catching Fire AU)

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Implications of Death, PTSD, Lil’ Angsty

Your eyes glazed over, your ears deaf to the world around you, you make your way down the hall, vacant in the late hours. Everything around you seemed a blur as you focused on keeping your mind blank, it being the only way you could get yourself through these next handful of hours. These last few hours. These could be your lasts. Your last time walking through the hall you’d hoped to never see again. The last time breathing so freely. The last time-

You furrowed your brows, steps and thoughts coming to a pause. ‘Who the hell is up this late still training?’ You silently ask yourself, though you have no place considering you too were up to, in fact, train. From the sounds of it, it was a man. You clenched your jaw, becoming on guard. ‘12?’ you begin questioning yourself further as you pick your steps back up, ‘2? 1?’ you round the corner to the training room slowly, coming to the conclusion. ‘7.’

Up on the slightly raised platform stood the already towering, 3/4ths armed man. His long,wavy locks messed around his face, falling out of his poorly tied ponytail, strands forced out by the sheer power of his fierce plows. The axe wielder could strike fear into the heart of any man just by standing a fair distance away merely holding the thing, but to see him in action, it made you nearly give up then and there. Each swing masterfully executed, his lack of limb not phasing him in the slightest. Every combination he did was followed by a low grunt; the entire spectacle so fluid and efficient, it could easily pass as a blur. Not too long after you stood in the entryway, he stopped to give his screaming muscles a break, only then noticing your presence. He stood up to his full, intimidating height, greeting you with only a curt nod as the focus on his face never left. He trained his eyes on you as you walked into the room fully now, making your way to the weapons rack. You hadn’t bothered to look back to him, not wanting to make the target on your back even larger. Keeping your head down, you pick the bow staff, each end sharpened to a deadly point, it reminding you of the tridents back home, but this being more efficient and versatile. You pick it up grudgingly, getting a far off look in your eyes, failing in the attempts to void yourself of the flashbacks.

You feel your heart rate quickening at the memories but are quick to squeeze your eyes shut and shake them from the confines of your head. You bite the inside of your bottom lip in frustration at the lack of focus your memories lead you to. Sighing, you lift your head to look over at another matted platform off to the side of the training room with a shaky breath, still feeling the itch of Seven’s stare. You spare a half glance in his direction before treading your way over to the mat. Skipping the single step up to the platform, you raise yourself up with one stride, making your way to the dimly lit, spotlighted center. Coming to a halt, you look at the staff down in your hand, unmoving. You stand there for a few sparing seconds before dropping into stance. You stand with your legs spread just enough for your knees to bend comfortably, feet planted solidly on the ground, your weight distributed to all the right points. Your back now facing the man who’d yet dared to move from his spot, your head remained forward, catching glimpses of the man from the corner of your eye as you stayed trained on the imaginary target on the wall. You tried to keep your breath steady as all the memories you’d once come to terms with started to flood back. ‘Focus.’

Taking a deep breath in from your nostrils, you focus on the feeling of the cold metal of the staff pressed so close to your cheek as you point it at said ‘target’. Mindless. Begin your training. Within the bat of a fly’s wing, your staff left its position from across your cheek at eye level to gliding through the air fast enough to make wind slicing sounds as you tear it through each invisible obstacle your mind conjured up.

Your heart pounded through your ears at a painful, headache inducing rhythm. Your breaths exited your mouth through pursed lips, puffing your cheeks out with each exhale. Your fighting was near silent, stealthy, swift. Each swing held a momentum of a death blow. Every target you landed came in flashes. Faces of those you’d slain in your past game interrupted your vision with each blow. Stopping only once you’d drenched through your training top, you found yourself back in your original position. Back at the start. Your jaw clenched back shut as you forced your pants to filter through your nose. Not being able to bring yourself back into reality, you stayed motionless, your breathing the only thing filling the silence. Feeling a gentle hand graze your shoulder, you are quick to turn your weapon on whom it belonged to. Your vision creeping back to you, you find the large man standing on the business end of your speared staff, arms held halfway up in surrender.

“Easy.” his accented low tone draws out. “It’s alright.” he whispered out calmly. “It’s okay.” The largely built man took slow steps closer to you, lowering his hand to the metal of the staff and running it closer to where yours rested on it. Your grip weakened and you let him disarm you, something that would have been foolish if it was not he who did it. The dark locked man stood in front of you, tossing the staff off to the side of the mat, careful for it not to make a loud noise if it were to land on the concrete floor. You now faced each other, your pupils blown wide and breaths still a bit staggered. Your widened eyes stared off into your own traumatized imagination in the line of his abdomen, barely even registering him cautiously closing in on your distance. It wasn’t until you felt yourself get pulled into his grip did you bring yourself back. Panic settles in a bit but just prior to realizing that this hold wasn’t hostile at all but an embrace. You tensed up, turning your head to not get suffocated by his tightly clad chest. You felt his chin rest on the crown of your head, causing your lids to falter.

Committing to a blink, you notice the dampness of your lashes caress your cheeks. You look down as if you could see your own tears streak down your face. Taking in a gasp through your nostrils, you are taken aback to find yourself crying. How had you not noticed? You felt Seven pull you a little closer, tightening his hold on you in the slightest, as not to scare you but also wanting you to find comfort and safety in the arms around you. Your lips turn downward as the bottom begins to quiver along with your chin. The feeling of more tears and the overwhelming pounding in your head start to get the better of you. To keep yourself from breaking into sobs, you bury your face into his warm chest and wrap your arms around his middle loosely, still not finding the strength to fully submit to the man whose name escapes your mind.

You two stood there for an undetermined amount of time, he rocking you side to side and rubbing your back while shushing your silent cries. You decide against your overbearing desire to stay in his comfort and pull back slightly, his que to let you go. You both pull away from each other, you still shying from making eye-contact. The seemingly simple gesture weighing so heavy on your shoulders. Looking at him, really seeing him, would only mean more pain when it came time to part from his lively eyes. “Can I tell you my name?” He asks, taking you off guard causing you to stiffen back up and raise your eyes from his shoes to his torso straight ahead of you. You furrow your brows, questioning. “I’m assumin’ you’re choosin’ to find as many ways to remain detached from everyone here...” He trails off. Your silence solidifies his assumption but after standing and staring thoughtfully into his rib cage, your nod answers his question. “Clyde.” He rumbles out, “It’s Clyde.” Still focusing your gaze below his shoulders, he sighs, taking his eyes from searching your face to retreating to your shoes. His head dropped low, causing a few miscellaneous strands to fall and frame his face. “I-” he struggles to get out, “I don’t really do this, probably out a’ the same fear you hold, but-” he cuts himself off with a huff of air through his nostrils, pouting as he looks as if he’s racking his brain, going through his options, before his speech picks up again, “in this game- these games… allies seem to be what gets folks the furthest.” He infers his proposition. You begin to shake your head furiously, a frightened expression making its way to your features. “The team from Twelve and Three have already got Six in and Johanna ‘n’ me are joinin’ ‘em” He continues in spite of your disagreements, keeping his eyes on your shoes. You slowly start to create some distance between you two, still shaking your head. “‘N’ seein’ that you're by yerself… I jus’ thought.” You find yourself on the other end of the mat now, staring frightfully at his shoes as he continues to mumble reasonings on.

“I-” your rasped voice stutters out, “I can’t.” Clyde stops his mumbling his look back to your face.

“I know. I know you think you’re protectin’ yourself, your mind by not comin’ together with anyone, but…” he pleads, making an attempt to close the gap a little more, “please. Please, I don’t want you to force yourself to go through this again… alone.” He says, your eyes shooting to his finally at the final word. Your heart catches in your throat at the sight of his warm toned eyes. “Make this time different.” He says softly, reaching an open, upward facing palm out to you. “It’ll be okay.” He pleads. “I promise.” Swearing to you so intently through his eyes, you find the strength to tear yours away, dropping the gaze down to his hand. You stare at it almost longingly before you shut your eyes tight, shaking your head ever so slightly. Opening them back up, you meet Clyde’s eyes again, your lids fluttering before going back to his unwavering hand. You take those few steps back to him halfheartedly, slowly lifting your left hand to hover over his right. He waits until you lower it on your own before engulfing your hand in his calloused one securely, stating with the small gesture that he was serious, that he wanted to earn your trust, keep you safe. And that maybe, maybe this time would be different.

-----------

Hello there! This was just a short little water tester I typed up last night or this morning rather and I’m curious about some feedback.

I may or may not be really excited about this concept

I plan on making a little series out of this as there is so much I want to unpack and build upon. I’m writing this as I go (which I don’t usually do due to my incredible procrastination skills) so please bare with me.

I’m just so gosh darn exCITED

I’m gonna try and get up another part up today so stay tuned if you’re interested in my far fetched shenanigans.

@douglasdriver​

[jazzytriestowrite]

Can I request a hq one shot for Tsukishima? Maybe where the reader confesses to him that she likes him, but then downplay it and walk off, because she thought it'd be pointless to tell him/he wouldn't like her the same, but in reality he does like her :> tyy 💕🧡💞

Fandom; Haikyuu!!

Pairing; Tsukishima Kei X Female Reader

Synopsis; You were tired of running in circles, tired of not knowing if your best friend had liked you back or not, or if you were a fool with a one sided crush. Deciding to get it over with once and for all, you pull Tsukishima to the side and confess your silly crush to him hoping that in the end you gain a boyfriend and not a broken heart.

Warning; Fluff, well as fluffy as a Tsukishima fic can be

Word count; 2155

A/N; I have been feeling low for some time, and actually saw this request and my heart leaped. I hope you enjoy this maddi!! Hope i did this salty hoe some justice :))

☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆

You had to do this.

You were tired of sneaking glances at him in class, face heating up every time you were caught or the teacher called you out about it. You were tired of sitting with him at lunch and pretending like your heart didn’t hurt every time he called you his ‘friend.’ It was tiresome, and if you had to deal with being unintentionally friendzoned again, you would rip out all of your hair and move to some farmtown to live out the rest of your days hiding from society.

His constant teasing was starting to leave a huge impact on you, and instead of getting snarky like you usually got with him, you ended up going silent whenever he playfully insulted you. Now taking his playful insults more personally than ever.

You had to do this. The fear of not knowing if he liked you back or if the side glances and extra touchie gestures were nothing but him getting more comfortable with you. Being kept in the dark had only made it more frustrating. You needed to confess and see what happened after that. No matter what happened, he was still your best friend first right?

Wrong.

While you were trying to give yourself that lovely pep talk, you had finally noticed that your palms were sweating. Rubbing them together created a grimmy feeling that made your stomach turn and rumble. The sudden confidence you had earlier had vanished, and now your hands gripped the end of your skirt, shaking lightly as they fiddled with the flimsy material.

You had now stopped in your strut towards the blonde haired male, watching as he messed with his headphones, probably going to put them on and start heading home as usual. Were you going to stand here in fear, never to confess and watch as the boy you’ve liked for so long slip out of your grasp because you were too nervous and too scared to admit you had some silly crush on him?

Taking a step forward, your words died in your throat as you felt a sudden chill. Panic clawed at your throat, making you momentarily freeze. The sudden thought of being rejected flooded your mind, and now just the thought of that made it hard to breathe.

He was your best friend, yes, but who's to say he wouldn’t suddenly start ignoring you because you had made it weird between the two of them? Would you be the one to ruin such a good friendship the two of you had just because you ended up catching feelings.

While you kept tearing yourself down, making it seem like there wasn’t any hope, a small flicker of hopefulness filled your heart. The ‘what if’ he did like you backs filled your mind, drowning out the raging negativeness that seemed to overflow your brain.

What was the point in all these ‘what if’s?’ Why not just figure it out and then go from there, in the end, admitting your feelings to someone wasn’t a crime, and sure as hell shouldn’t end a good friendship the two of you had built if it was a genuine one.

“Tsukishima!’’ You call out, breath catching in your throat as you watched him whip his head in your direction, a scowl already sitting on his face. Walking towards him, you gripped your bag tightly in your hands, making confident steps towards the tall male.

Looking down upon you, Tsukishima didn’t look too impressed to see you standing in front of him. Or maybe he did? You could never tell because he either had a scowl on his face or a teasing grin, and both you didn’t like in the slightest.

“What is it y/n, if you couldn’t tell, I was trying to leave this hellhole and go home for some peace and quiet” He says bluntly, golden eyes staring you down as the height difference between you two became more apparent than ever. His tone was the usual annoying one, the one where it made it feel like you were bothering him.

Gripping your bag tighter, you open your mouth to say something but instead end up closing it with nothing coming out. The panic was still there yes, but standing in front of him right had made it more real now that it was really happening. Shifting back and forth on your feet, you looked everywhere but his eyes now, knowing you wouldn’t be able to tell him when his unwavering gaze was on you.

That was your first mistake, showing him such a panicky side of you would only make him more interested in what you had to say, and that was a known fact. Now instead of looking at you with disinterest, he now had a shit eating grin on his face. His whole demeanor changed in a second, taking your moment of weakness lightly and in his favor. He was now interested. It was easy to see.

His hand now rested on his hip and he leaned in closer to you, wanting you to spit out whatever you had to say to him. He had even stopped messing with his headphones. His attention was now all on you, and you didn’t like it.

“Come on cupcake, by now I could have been halfway home”

His words were playful and provoking. You knew it was too late to go back, he already knew something was up, and giving him some lame excuse or telling him nevermind would surely make him angry.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up and met his golden eyes once more, trying not to get sucked into the beauty of them. He was always handsome when he grinned at you, since it was so different from the scowl he gave everyone else.

“Any Day now, I believe I’ve aged a few years standing here like a fool”

“I LIKE YOU OKAY”

You blurt out, his previous statement making you just spit it out. It had felt good to finally say it, but it also made you cringe when you realized you yelled. What made it worse was when you noticed that a few students had stopped their chatter and walking, stopping to look at you who had created a scene.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you continue your previous statement. ‘’I like you, way more than friends. You are very annoying and half the time punching you seems like the greatest idea in the world. Despite your often teasing, I’ve come to like your annoying, weird, dino loving ass and keeping it to myself has been tough. I just want to let you know how I feel, in the hopes that you like-”

You had paused in your mini rant when your eyes met his again, searching his face for any changes. You had been able to catch the flicker of shock that had crossed his features, but it had changed to his usual shit eating grin again. That grin had made you nervous once more, making your heart close up and your words die in your throat.

‘’You know what” You take a step back, letting your eyes fall to the ground in shame. “April fools, bet I got you huh” Your voice didn’t match your words, and instead of your usual upbeat voice, it was replaced with a sad tone, a tone on the verge of tears. “I’m a good prankster I know”

The silence that you were met with only fueled your now aching heart. ‘’I gotta go’’ You say, turning around and walking away before you not only embarrassed yourself more, like crying in front of a guy who would definitely make fun of you for it.

You felt a hand grab your wrist, and before you could shake it off, you were turned around abruptly, head almost falling off your neck at the sudden force. Stumbling towards the male who had pulled you back, your teary eyes met Tsukishima’s once more. A silent ‘what’ being communicated through your expression.

You watched as he leaned in, so close you felt your face burn painfully now that you could feel his soft breath on you. One of his hands came up and was placed on your cheek, softly caressing the soft flesh. His eyes were filled with an emotion you had never seen before on him, and that took your breath away.

The sunlight had perfectly hit his features, making his golden blonde hair look gorgeous in this lighting. The light breeze helped in his favor, blowing it in the wind to add an extra effect to this moment. His large hand caressing your cheek had made you flustered, along with the look he was giving you. How he had to slightly bend to reach your height added some magic to it.

“You idiot, I had thought I was being perfectly clear with the hints I was dropping. Don’t be scared y/n, I’ve liked you for a while too, and while I may be very annoying, you probably didn’t notice that I ONLY act that way with you.’’ He paused, gazing into your eyes for a few more seconds. “y/n, you can stop being so nervous now” One hand now rested at your hip, holding you in place.

Was this some sort of dream? Her crush just admitted he liked her back and was also acting all cute instead of douche. The new unknown side he was showing you had made your heart race, and for a while you couldn’t even think of something to say. Instead your mind was filled with happiness. He wasn’t that much of a jerk after all.

The way he stared at you like you were the only girl here made you feel special. The way he was publicly grabbing you without being ashamed of what someone else seeing had also made your heart flutter. Maybe Tsukishima could be that hot guy who showed his true feelings to someone he liked, someone who deserved his attention.

“Ow” Your hands fly up to your forehead, your body stepping back and ripping yourself from his embrace. While you had thought the two of you were having a moment, he had decided that your lovey dovey time was over and flicked your forehead with a bit of too much force.

Laughing, his shit eating grin was back. “Idiot, acting all nervous and stuff like I was going to reject someone like you’’ It had sounded like an insult, but listening in closer you heard the compliment amidst it.

Opening and closing your mouth, you watched as he rolled his eyes at you. “Let's not stand here any longer, we should get walking. And maybe, just maybe we can stop and get some snacks” He says, using your shock to slip his big hand into your tiny one. He didn’t give you a chance to notice, instead tugging you so you would start walking.

And god, if you had pointed it out he would have surely blushed at being caught trying to be smooth.

In the end, you hadn’t cared enough to point it out. Instead, you silently agreed to his previous statement. The toll of being stressed out and worried had finally worn off, happiness filling your insides. You had claimed yourself a salty french fry, YOUR salty french fry. Nothing felt better than this.

Tsukishima walked, hand in hand with you in silence. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was a mutual silence that felt good. The two of them needing the time to comprehend everything that happened in such a small amount of time.

Since your eyes were averted, he finally dropped his shit eating grin, a real genuine smile replacing it instead. It might sound weird, but he wasn’t just some cocky bastard who had no feelings. He was a human being who had crushes as well.

And as he watched your big grin as your eyes stared off ahead had made him feel butterflies in his stomach. He had liked you for some time, but he himself wasn’t brave enough to say something and opted to drop crazy hints instead. While that didn’t work, he still got himself a girlfriend in the end.

Watching you be happy about being with someone like him amazed him. How you lightly swayed their intertwined hands was making him feel some kind of way, a feeling he wasn’t used to. You were the prettiest girl in the world to him, and just the thought of someone like you liking him back made him feel good.

He had liked you so much, and now that he was able to act on his feelings, he would be sure to give you hell.

He was, after all, Tsukishima Kei, the saltiest human to exist.

“Also, It’s march, not April you fool.”

[rocketzealot]

PERFORMANCE REVIEW Pt 2

“It is as Executive Petrel says,” she said, voice deep and coarse, with much restraint. “We have long been considering your position in Team Rocket, as you well know. The truth is, we are always short on Agents, and once we promote grunts to fill those positions we become short on grunts. That is why people like you are so important. Do you understand?”

Fred replied with a clipped “yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Team Rocket has mercifully decided not to demote you. Giovanni does not believe in waste, and nor do I. But we also do not tolerate underperformance.” She spoke with a little more vigour, cold green eyes twisting the knife into Fred as he flicked his vision back in her direction.

“As such,” she continued, voice becoming calmer and quieter once again, “we have arranged somewhat of a reshuffle in your duties. Elite Agent Wyatt has informed me that despite your lacklustre numbers, you are a positive representative of the Rocket brand. You will continue to recruit in your own time, more specifically when you are given days without orders. You will be expected to convene with potential recruits as long as you are sleeping under Giovanni’s roof. However, we have agreed that you would be made more useful if you were given more focussed missions.”

Fred listened in carefully, finding himself looking more and more at the Elite Agent, his hands resting on the edge of the table as he leant forward. This seemed to be a life ring… perhaps the last one he would get. To think… almost nothing would change… he had gotten away with—

“In addition to this, we will be assigning you a partner, with a view that he will provide you with much needed focus and motivation during missions. Although he is newly promoted, he is one of our most efficient and obedient Agents, and comes with a plethora of skills that I think it would be generous to say that you could not hope to possess. Although I don’t expect the pair of you to be as friendly as some of our Agents, I expect you to become a unit quickly. No arguments.”

Oh. Well, that wasn’t really so bad. The best Agents came in twos! Butch and Cassidy, Atilla and Hun, Annie and Oakley… Perhaps Fred and his new partner would be just like them. The woman opposite him stared him down intensely. A biro had appeared in her hand whilst Fred had been daydreaming about being famous in the halls of the Rocket base. It was as if she was preparing to record his reaction, especially given her request for no arguments. Fred was in no position to argue. Agent Wyatt had moved behind him to the door. An eyebrow quirked on the face of the Agent whose name he could not remember as she saw the beginnings of an optimistic smile begin to creep onto Fred’s face.

“Very well, invite him in, Lee.” 

Like a school child turning to see who their new classmate would be, with that fizzy mix of apprehension and excitement, Fred shifted in his seat, feet moved around in readiness to get up and shake the hand of his new partner.

Yet his blood froze.

“I believe you are acquainted, but allow me to reintroduce you to Theodore Falsey, your new partner.”

The doorway was occupied by a slender young man, so thin it created the optical illusion of great height. Like Fred, he donned the white uniform given to Agents to differentiate themselves from the rabble. Unlike Fred, he held himself with such an air of respectability, it verged on parody. It was no doubt that the person who stood with his heels clicked together like a good little soldier was Ted. 

As if nothing had changed.

Ted bore the marks of years passed- a little more facial hair, a few more lines under his eyes, less colour in his cheeks- but he seemed the same as ever. That same haughty demeanour, a posture so upright it could have been mistaken for a spine problem. Although, something was different about him, about the way his eyes stared blankly ahead through the lenses of the goggles he seemed to be wearing now. And yet for all the differences in the world, Ted was still there. That was enough. 

Don’t cry.

The heat around Fred’s eyes told him that it was too late for that, though. He spun his head towards the Elite Agent. 

“Th-this… You can’t. I can’t—“

“No arguments, Ellsworth. I expect civility. Or did you really want that demotion that badly?”

Fred didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, let alone speak. Suddenly, it became very clear why Petrel had wanted to clear out so quickly. He didn’t want to have to deal with the messy emotional fallout of this arrangement. Fred gripped the back of the chair to stop him throwing a punch at Ted, whose eyes he felt boring into him from behind. Yet as his fingers sunk into the padding, all he could think about was throwing the chair. The last time he had seen Ted, the only way they had managed to be in the same room together was by virtue of the extreme violence Fred had been able to exert on the once smug scientist. Fred knew about the demotion, but liked to pretend he knew nothing of Ted. He didn’t want anything to do with him, least of all… partnership.

As he stared into the space of the room, things briefly became very, very clear. Fred was underperforming because he was too comfortable in his position. He was so content to be mediocre, he never strove for improvement. Of course, there was the promise of the fabled glory of Team Rocket if he did well. But any manager knew that the one thing more effective than a carrot was a stick. 

And Ted was the stick.

Suddenly, Fred was very mad at Team Rocket… furious. This wasn’t a reshuffling of his responsibilities. This was a punishment. A punishment they wanted to convince him was a favour. He huffed through his nose.

“Your orders will be delivered to you the following morning. Is there going to be a problem? Should I call Executive Petrel all the way back here?”

The Elite Agent leant forward, her biro hovering over an ominous looking box in Fred’s paperwork. He frowned back at her, but his brows instinctively curved backwards into a frightened look. Her eyes met his with the same expressionless glare Ted had often given him when there was no choice… Besides… Fred never really knew how to fight back.

“No, ma’am.”

“Very good. Given your penchant for misplacing and destroying paperwork, I will have your orders given to your new partner. I expect the two of you to organise time to meet up and coordinate. From now on you will report to myself first, Petrel second, under your new code names as Agents Seraph and Nidhogg. Seraph,” she said, giving a pointed look at Fred as she began clearing the desk, “you are to report to Agent Wyatt when convenient, or should he request a report from yourself.”

Folding the file under her arms, she stood tall above Fred. 

“Dismissed.”

Like a clockwork toy, Ted set to, marching out the office at the sound of his command. Fred glared at him, narrowing his eyes as he watched. Something was definitely up with him, but Fred couldn’t put finger on it. Seeing his new superior (whose name he should definitely learn) waiting for him to leave, he reluctantly did as he was told… like a good little Houndour, tail between his legs. 

The Elite Agents followed their juniors out of the office calmly, saluting as they left. Ted returned the salute so fast it could have happened before they started. Ted hadn’t been doing that the last time Fred had been with him. Even so, Fred returned a salute their way, albeit with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. 

“Glory to Rocket,” Agent Wyatt croaked, barging his shoulder into Fred’s as he stalked away. Fred watched the pair leave, fists balling up beside him. Neither of them spoke as they trooped down the corridor, Wyatt pulling out his PokeGear, to flick through what was doubtlessly a barrage of texts from his recruiters, informants and associates, the woman walking straight forward, likely with the intention of offloading Fred’s grotty file. 

Once they had disappeared around a corner, Fred swung his attention to Agent Nidhogg. At the very corners of Ted’s mouth, he was sure he could see the beginnings of a smile, the tightening of cheeks, the pull of lips, the tiny little crevice beginning to form where they met.

Before either man could say a word, Fred had Ted pushed up against the wall. He was too short to lift him off his feet, but had no trouble making Ted scrabble for his balance. He shook and pulled him straight, forcing him to look him in the eye, the taller’s arms halfway up in defence. That was when Fred noticed them.

Ted’s eyes were all wrong. Where he had once had delicate, ice blue eyes, he now had artificial, electric blue eyes, the colour flooding the whole eye. Instead of perpetually full stop sized pupils, thin, pointed slits bisected his eyes. What had he done? This wouldn’t have been the first time Ted messed with his own eyes before… but this was entirely not his style… This was monstrous. 

His rage was dampened with enough fear to make him stop, but Fred didn’t let it make him pity Ted. Not that. Not again. He shook it off, shook Ted.

“We are not friends. We’re not. I don’t know what you did, don’t care— I never wanted to see your ugly mug again, Ted.”

Whilst Fred breathed hot breath, Ted only looked back with that befitting, cold stare. “This is an assignment.”

Ted even sounded different. The same… but different. There was something odd about how he said his consonants. Still, he stared back, so almost expressionless. 

“Bull. SHIT.”

“We have been assigned to work together. I am only doing as I am—”

“BULL. SHIT!”

“… I am only doing as I am asked, as should you. I did not choose this assignment any more than you did.”

Ted’s arms had dropped by his side, limp, unthreatening. But just like a doll dropped in the rain, just because he did not move, it didn’t make him any less frightening. There was every bit of purpose in the way he fell limp as there was in the precise choice of his words.

Fred let go of him with a shove. “Outside of work, I still don’t wanna see your face. Not even on lunch breaks. I don’t even want you to text me.”

Silence hung in the air as Fred swayed away from him, desperate to tear his gaze away from the puzzling form of Ted. The ex-scientist stood patiently, staring unblinkingly at him, lips parted a millimetre. He pulled himself up to his full height, and unstrapped something from his belt. A medium-sized tablet sat in his hand as he calmly entered some details. 

“Tomorrow morning I will relay our orders to you. I have arranged for one of the small office spaces to be ours so that we may convene to discuss how we will proceed at eleven-hundred hours.” 

Without protesting Fred’s assertion, or awaiting protestation of his own, Ted strode off in the opposite direction, Fred aghast.

[ofwolvesandbutterflies]

notch | i

Pairing:��Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags: unrequited!AU, college!AU, f2f!AU

Warnings: language, mentions of mature content

A/N: i’m back i’m stressed i like writing. i wrote this a while ago, will probably turn it into a series if i ever get around to finishing it. 

01 | 02 | 03

Synopsis: early morning calls. picking him up from some stranger’s house after a few bad decisions. the torment of loving someone who was incapable of loving you back. those two small words create such a large chasm between the two of you. but hey, what were best friends for? 

I got the text early in the morning. Early like 03:27 in the morning. Rolling over in bed, I glared angrily at the unwelcome brightness of my phone screen. A scoff left my lips when I read the text; of course the morning before school started would be another one of those mornings with Jungkook. 

“That dumb fuck…” I grumbled while rubbing the remaining sleep out of my eyes and rolled out of bed. I groaned, stretching my hands high over my head to stretch out the tired, stiff joints that inhabited my body. Sighing, I stumbled into a pair of pajama shorts and clumsily pulled one of Jungkook’s oversized crewnecks over my head. 

There were worse things that could happen, I mused unhappily to myself. He could be driving home intoxicated. He could have gotten in a car crash. He could be beaten up by the side of a road, half dead and bleeding out. However, the sour, disappointed lull between heartbeats reminded me that no, nothing was worse than being stuck in the friendzone, picking him up in the early morning after each of his overnight rendezvous with an assortment of the worst girls. 

Slinging my hair up into a ponytail, I slid my feet into my favorite pair of old vans, grabbed my keys and slipped back into the quite literal cold, harsh reality. I plugged the location Jungkook sent me into my phone and twisted the key in the ignition. The steady vibration of the car’s engine brought me back to the present and further permeated the bitter irritation coursing through my body. Humming along with the sad love songs stuck in my head, I studied the glaring facade of the lonely stoplights surrounding me. The deep indigo of the clouds floating above me only darkened my mood. 

Love was quite the burden, I thought to myself. There was just something so… vexatious when loving someone that had no capacity of loving you back. But what was I to do when in reality, I had no control over my best friend’s romantic - or lack thereof - life. 

A familiar dialing tone broke through my reverie and drew my attention back to my cellular device. Loved dearly and something of a sepia-d memory, Jungkook’s caller ID popped onto my dimly lit screen. Withholding the sigh waiting to pass my lips, I watched at the phone ring a couple more times before pressing ‘accept’. 

"Jungkook," I mumbled through the phone. "Which apartment are you coming out of? I'm stopped outside of the complex."

“I’ve never heard a sweeter sound,” he chuckled lowly ignoring my actual question. The shuffle of clothing through the speaker only encouraged the bile building in the back of my throat and I was again reminded of why I was here in the first place. 

The frown etched itself deeper into my face as I responded. “The hum of my loud 2009 Chevy Aveo engine and the sleep deprived, deeply irritated voice of your best friend here to pick you up at 3 in the morning after your 3rd one night stand in the past two weeks? I find that hard to believe, dumbass. Especially after what apparently just happened in there.” Irritation oozed from my words and I made no move to shield it. 

“Aww come on, Y/N,” Jungkook hummed, relief flooding me when the sound of a door opening and closing played through the phone. “It’s not like I was planning on this happening again…”

All that left my lips was a disbelieving scoff. Glancing up at the apartment complex, I spotted a familiar figure descending the stairs on the third floor. 

“Y/N,” Jungkook spoke, louder this time so to combat the whisper of the autumn wind. “I’m hanging up now, I see your car.”

With that the call ended and I watched as my best friend’s figure neared the car. A simple black zip - up hoodie zipped up halfway hung loosely about his frame left a sliver of his toned torso out for admiration and the disheveled hair peeking out from under the hood softened my frown slightly. White washed denim joggers sat low on his hips and hugged his body in all the right ways. Balled in his left hand was a bundle of white and black cotton. His shirt and boxers no doubt. 

Reaching across the vacant passenger seat, I unlocked the door as he approached and the impish grin that graced his innocent face had me rolling my eyes. It was too ironic to be coincidental, that such a soft face could hide such a broken, lost fuckboy.

“Hey Y/N.” His post-sex voice sounded tired and fucked out beyond belief and for a brief moment, I pitied the poor, clueless girl that would wake up alone in the morning.  

“Hey kiddo,” I simpered, playful smile hiding the concern and irritation washing about in the pit of my stomach as he climbed into the passenger seat. “You sound tired as fuck.”

“Hmm... Probably more so than you.” He shot me a look I couldn’t decipher and tossed his shirt and boxers in the back. “I don’t think I’ll ever go from the gym to a party again.” 

I hummed in acknowledgement, focus more on the well-being of my best friend than the road. He sighed deeply, sliding his hood off and leaned his head against the window. Waves of exhaustion rolled off his body. A song popped into my mind and I spoke suddenly. 

“Jungkook,” I murmured, the falling moon and darkness of the sky reminding me of how late it was. The weight of his gaze on me transferred to my phone when I tossed it into his lap. “Open spotify, yeah?” 

“Okay… it’s opened.” 

Lyrics sat impatiently on my tongue before I had even told him what to type. 

“Search niki. N - I - K - I. Then just hit shuffle play.”

The silence that hung between us while he spelled out the artist’s name was not one begging to be filled and we sat in companionable silence. Finally at a stoplight, I paused to glance over my best friend. His bottom lip remained stuck between his teeth. Though tired, his deep brown eyes focused in on the screen of my phone. A vermillion glow washed over the two of us, kissing his exposed collarbones and hiding the flush dusting my cheeks. 

The light turned green and we were off as the bittersweet verses of ‘Warpaint’ slid out of the car speakers as an aesthetic white noise. I watched quietly as Jungkook’s eyelids fought to stay open before finally sliding closed, a melancholic feeling settling over my heart. The faux smile I had present fell back into a frown and I released the heavy exhale I had withheld for so long. 

Ever since high school, he had been jumping from girl to girl the numbers quickly racking up from two to three to five to six girlfriends a year. I watched from the sidelines, always there as a shoulder to cry on, a shield from other girls, a wall flower he’d leave alone for a couple months while he fucked around. For years I had fought the feelings off every time they surface, knowing I was nothing more than a friend, around only for him to come back to when the hidden emotions he refused to show got the best of him. 

Shooting a sideways glance over at Jungkook, I let my eyes travel briefly over his tired body. The breath entered and exited his lips slowly, steadily, almost in sync with the beat of my heart. I began to take a right at the intersection onto the street that led to his apartment when he reached out suddenly and stopped me. His warm, calloused hand closed over my cold, sweater paws and effectively halted the car. My gaze shot up to his.

“No- wait,” he groaned, blinking blearly and pushing himself back into a sitting position. “Can… Can I stay over tonight?” 

Still stopped in the middle of the intersection, I gazed at his deflated figure… ‘No’ would have been the right answer in a situation like this. No. You can’t stay over. No. You can’t encourage the feelings I do have for you. No. You don’t understand what staying over is going to do for my heart.

Immediately the ‘yes’ slithered through my lips before my mind processed the weight of the situation. After all, he did have a dresser of stuff over at my apartment and the guest room was hardly ever occupied. 

“Sure.” 

A grateful smile graced his lips and he retracted his hand from mine. 

“Thank you, __...” he mumbled. “God, you know you’d make the best girlfriend in the world, right?” 

The offhand comment threw a poison tipped dagger straight through my heart and the breath I had been trying to take caught in my throat before he resituated himself against the car door and added, 

“I guess that makes me lucky you’re my best friend.” 

Deep, devious, and devilish, the darkness concealed the hurt masked in my eyes and Jungkook shot me a playful smile, ignorant to the fact the smile I offered back did not reach my eyes.

series m.list

>>

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

DONE WAITING

Request: N/A

A/N: I just released a buttload of fluff, I think I need to balance it out with some ANGST!  Also, I need to stop watching First Avenger, it has taken over my life.

preserum!Steve x reader

Word count:

Summary: life isn’t fair.  Why did Steve think it would be as soon as you came into his life?

Warnings: death, grief, depression, guilt, funerals, references to Catholicism, car crash, description of injury, blood gore

(GIF not mine)

A dramatic crack of thunder and lightning illuminated the panes of the stained glass windows of the church, mildly interrupting the priest's sermon.  Steve flinched at the sudden noise, his senses more irritable with the bubbling sadness within him.  A single tear rolled down his face as he sniffled, trying not to cough- the cold and wet weather wasn’t good for his asthma.

The sound of the priest’s voice was drowned out by Steve’s racing thoughts and aching chest.  All he could focus on was not crying again. Over and over Steve repeated in his head, “it should have been me, it should have been me…”.  He rocked back as forth as the dam broke, tears flooding his cheeks, despite his best efforts.  He covered his face with his ice cold hands, ashamed of his constant weeping.  All he could see behind his eyelids was that damned car accident played on over and over.  Again and again the sights and sounds haunted his cursed imagination.  Why did a good person like you have to die such a cruel, vile death?! It had been less than a week ago, meaning the gaping wound where Steve’s heart used to be was still fresh.  You were on your way to a dinner reservation you had planned to celebrate yours and Steve’s engagement.  It was supposed to be a happy occasion… 

All three of you were strolling down the city sidewalk to the Pizzeria you had been dying to try.  Work had been so stressful for the three of you, so you had decided to treat yourself to a dinner outing.  Why not?  You had been saving up for over a year to do something nice for yourselves, and you all had plenty of reason to celebrate. 

“And that’s when the camel said, ‘get off my back!’” Steve chuckled, getting to the awful, yet hilarious end of his bad joke.  Buck gave him sarcastic laughter and playful eye rolls.  You, on the other hand, were laughing so hard your face was red and you couldn’t stop chortling.

Steve loved it when you laughed.  Especially when it wasn’t “lady-like”.  The most beautiful sound he could hear was you laughing so hard you were snorting and wheezing.  It broke his heart that he’d never hear that angelic sound again.

Bucky let out a deep sigh before looking both ways to cross the street with you.  Unfortunately, Steve was too busy reveling in the pride of making you choke on your own laughter, that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings.  Steve had walked halfway across the road when a drunk driver swerved around the corner, barreling down the street.

It was as if time slowed down.  You had seen the car speeding down the road, heading to hit Steve, so you jumped into action.  You pushed Bucky away from you to keep him from chasing you into the street too as you leapt onto the asphalt.  Your high-heels clicked against the black top, giving the scene an eerie echo of your last footsteps as Steve slowly turned around to see what the hell was happening.

“STEVEN!” you shrieked, slightly picking him up before throwing him to safety at the other end of the crosswalk.

Steve didn’t have even a second to process what was going on, he just knew he was flying through the air and you were a mere foot from the hood of that guy’s car.

Just as he was landing, still in slow motion, Steve saw you attempt to jump out of the way, but it was too late, the drunk driver had hit you spot on, plummeting you to the ground as his squealing tires ran you over, dragging your body against the pavement.

The sound of yours and Bucky’s screams pierced Steve’s ears as he watched the vehicle screech to a stop and run over the curb into a fire hydrant.  Once his brain had gathered the information, he landed hard on his back as he started to process the events that had just transpired.

He could barely believe his eyes.  Your body was limp and quickly turning pale and ashy, bruised and bleeding on the dirty ground.  “No… no… (Y/N)!!!” Steve cried, scrambling to his feet and rushing over, scraping his knees as he stumbled to your side, “CALL 9-1-1!”.  Bucky ran into the nearest business establishment to call an ambulance, his face white with terror.

Steve took you into his arms, afraid to touch and hurt you further.  “No… no… no no… (Y/N), why?” he whimpered, holding your cold corpse to his chest.  Your head was profusely bleeding, staining your new pink dress and his white shirt.  Your left arm and neck were severely bruised and your right arm was broken.  Ironically, as if the universe was trying to mock him, your face had a peaceful look on it, as if you were simply taking a nap.  The universe was sick.

The scene was so vivid in Steve’s head, it took another solid crack of booming thunder to shake him out of the flashback.  His tears and sobs grew louder and harder as Bucky stood up to carry the casket out of the church.

“She’s where she doesn’t have to suffer,” Bucky whispered, squeezing Steve’s frail shoulder in a quick attempt to comfort him, “she’s okay now,”.

Steve just watched as Bucky’s expression faded back into a somber pout.  Steve felt it was all his fault you died and he couldn’t even give you the respect of carrying you to your final resting place.  He was so useless…

The funeral procession walked outside, everyone popping open their umbrellas or donning their raincoats as another crack of thunder roared.  Steve was almost too shaky to carry his own umbrella as he tried to have a stiff upper lip, but the tears kept falling down his pale cheeks.

The final words spoken by the Priest and the goodbye given by her parents were nice, or, so Steve was told.  He was too distracted to listen as he stared blankly at the deep, lonely hole (Y/N) was about to be shoved in.  How he wished there was a more elegant way for you to be buried, you didn’t deserve a literal hole in the ground.

After the funeral was over, everyone filtered away, getting into their mud-splashed cars and driving home to eat and go to bed, most likely to feel better in the morning.  But not Steve.  He didn’t want to leave you yet.  He couldn’t.

“C’mon pal, you’ll catch something if you stay out here much longer,” Bucky called, sticking his numb hands into his coat pockets.

“It’s my fault…” he sobbed, dropping his umbrella, rain immediately soaking his hair and shirt.

Bucky jogged over to him, holding his own umbrella over the both of them.  “Steve, don’t say things like that, it was a freak accident!” he said, turning the smaller man to face him.

“If I had just paid attention… If I had just looked where I was going… she’d still be here,” he choked, his lungs suffering as his sobs steifled his already questionable breathing.

Buck’s face softened, giving his best friend a hug.  “I’ll miss her too, but this isn’t your fault…” he repeated, “she just loved you enough she’d sacrifice herself for you… the same thing you’d do for her,”.

Steve nodded, looking back at the open grave, still not ready to face the reality that you were gone.  He never thought he’d have to face this… For one, he never thought someone would love him like you did.  But, with you added to his life, he had even more to lose… 

“Thanks Buck… I appreciate you staying with me,” he sniffed, attempting to wipe his face dry.

Bucky smiled softly, glad Steve wasn’t completely lost.  He wrapped his arm around his shoulder, leading him to the truck, “We’ll visit her again soon, let’s just get you dried off and fed- you know she would have killed you if she saw you like this,”.

Steve visited everyday, not that he had much else to do.  His paintings weren’t selling anymore.  Not that he was surprised, his art was all sad and dark, no one wanted to buy that.  So, instead of creating shitty art, he decided to sit with you for a few hours everyday.  Bucky said he shouldn’t do that, “you won’t heal unless you distance yourself,” he’d say.  But what was he going to do?  Stop Steve from going?  He was always at work.

Steve leaned against the small headstone, curling up to stay warm.  November had just started and the wind was picking up, blowing around dark clouds and dead leaves.  He wrapped his thin coat around his small body as the gusts of air violently blew his hair and tie around, the sting of the cold doing nothing to stop his face from heating up as he started to cry again.

“I miss you..” he whimpered, sniffling, “I visited mom and dad earlier, I wish you could have met them… Maybe you’re with them now… I hope you are, they’d really love you,”.  The cold stone grave said nothing back, the silence deafening.  “I could really use some encouragement right now.  Everyone says to express myself and get it out of my system, but whatever I create sucks!” he ranted, pulling a little photo of you out of his pocket, hoping that if he saw your face, he’d feel more like you were here.

“I’m trying my best to feel better, but it’s so hard when I’ve already lost almost everything… Bucky’s there, but he doesn’t understand how I feel, he doesn’t get it,” he cried, his eyes getting puffy as tears continued to well up.  He leaned his forehead against the stone to shield his face from the gray wind, still looking at the photo.

You were smiling at the camera, your cheek pressed against his own as Bucky presented your homemade birthday cake to you.  Steve remembered that day so vividly.  He planned a big surprise party for you at the community center.  Somehow, both he and Buck were able to keep their lips sealed and didn’t spoil the surprise the entire two weeks he was planning it.  It was such a happy memory.

“I don’t know how I can move on…” he sobbed, clutching the picture to his chest as he let out a few vulnerable sobs, “I fucking miss you, (Y/N),”.  He started sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe, his lungs begging for air in the form of desperate gasps.  He fumbled through his pockets to look for his special cigarettes.  He stuck it between his lips, igniting a match to light the cigarette in a hurry.

He let out a hard coughing sob before taking a deep inhale of the medicinal smoke.  “How can I move on from someone like you?” he hiccuped, shoving the picture back into his pocket, “I had waited for some like you for so long… just for you to be ripped away from me…”.  He scoffed, tapping the ash off the butt of the cigarette before starting to walk home.  “The universe is sick…” he grumbled, leaving his wedding band at your headstone.

______________

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[thebirthbysleep]

𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 :  six thousand, five hundred and thirty words

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : avoiding rampaging navy soldiers, din is forced to stay on the pirate ship until they reach land. she grows distasteful that she is no longer homebound, and now the conversation regarding her curse continues to come up.

she’s sleep again.

in her sleep, din would forget who she was as she was reduced to dust at the mercy of traumatising dreams from which she could not wake. any child, upon awakening from a terror in the deepest level of sleep, would cry into their parents arms, and would be comforted with warm and hushed encouragements. and as the tears stop, they can find themselves slowly falling back asleep. because the comfort is there, the arms in which they feel safest are stretched wide open and the dark doesn’t bother them anymore. no monster under the bed can peep out, no ghost in the corner of the room can reach them. their dreams, plagued by the darkest parts of the human imagination, become forgotten memories as the second wave of sleep hits. 

din wasn’t so lucky in that regard. she had no arms to run into, she couldn’t even awake from the nightmares; she would simply be put into another, and fight back the tears of fear whilst facing another demon, another fear, another beast hidden in the back of her mind, placed into a plane from which she could not escape. there wasn’t a time where she was not in a dream, even after she spent minutes in the tower, she would be thrown into a whirlpool of darkness, to return to further suffering.

it was expected at this point, that if she ever sleeps again the nightmares would follow her, a stalking of the soul that would only results in the further shattering of something that barely existed anymore. din found herself feeling like a coward with each passing year, weak at the raging vendetta of vengeful greek gods. the effect of the curse working, the gods rendering her powerless, and her will to fight back reduced to the size of a speck.

in this dream, din found peace for the first time. nothing bad happened, but neither did anything good come to happen as well. she was stuck in a pond where she floated, ears hovering above the water where she could hear the tweeting of birds and the familiar rustling of leaves in the trees which would fall into the pond as if to kiss the surface where the nymph laid. they sensed her, they sensed every part of her. they sensed that something good and pure had fallen into the pond just like a leaf picked off on autumn, meeting the flower with its fellow kin, to be blown into the wind just like all the others.

it was a strange feeling but din felt like she was home. the nostalgia floating in tepid water, the running of streams of the grotto she familiarised herself with. it was heaven. she could almost reach the pearly clouds and the blue sky that greeted her, the sun smiling down upon her warm face,

causing her cheeks to rush rosy. it was odd, but din felt herself stand, her feet touching the smooth rocks at the bottom of the pond.

and that’s when she saw the fishes swimming in colonies, flocking to their families and picking off the algae growing on rocks. an orchestra of croaking frogs came behind her, following by a symphony of crickets which created the most magnificent music piece known to man; ambiance.

here, din stood for god knows how long, bathing and playing with water as if to familiarize herself with an old hobby, like picking up a pencil to draw years after closing the sketch pad and letting it collect dust. this was home, whenever this was. a memory, not a dream; her mind wouldn’t know how to create something so raw with nature’s perfection, it was a memory and even her doubts told her it was a memory. one which she wished to linger in for eternity. she could never get lonely here.

but all dreams must come to an end and this one was no exception.

din opened icy eyes to a strange environment. below her was a soft mattress, her body entangled in sheets and a pillow at her side which she had embraced tightly. it was the only occasion where the girl could confirm that she felt refreshed upon waking up. it didn’t land on her that she was somewhere strange until she heard a small hum from beside her.

sat on the edge of the bed, rosé glanced down at the half-awake nymph with curiosity. seconds later, din squeaked and jumped up, scurrying back and nearly falling off the bed on the other side. it was only then when the memories of yesterday came flooding back, but din found herself too dazed to scowl. to scream and scold as she did best.

“ good morning, sleeping beauty. we’ve set course to a lovely place in the mediterranean. i don’t know whether you’ve been to venice; i hear it’s beautiful ”, rosé said with a cheeky grin, din continued to stare at her with flustered round eyes, blonde hair caught in a nest which would only infer that she had slept well. what made it almost comical was the way in which the nymph held the pillow so tightly to her chest. “ captain said he has some sources over there; sea witches who could point us in the right direction. we’re going to get rid of your curse, dinnie~! ”.

getting rid of her curse? that didn’t sound right. din said she would be doing it alone and would require no help from the people who parents were the only reason she had gotten the curse anyway. she was stubborn, she wouldn’t allow her pride to be further injured by just subjecting herself to obedience just because they had volunteered to help and claimed themselves to be innocent children.

but it was far too late to be complaining about that now, especially as she laid in a bed in a small cabin where she assumed someone else slept, unless if this was a spare. she saw the lack of decorations and things that would normally personalise something as intimate as a room. needless to say, aside from being in a strange room, she had also fallen into a pirate ship which was no sailing in the middle of nowhere. the ship she thought would be going to athens was probably halfway through its journey by now, but then she realised she wouldn’t have been able to go.

because the sailor whom she brought the ticket off of turned on her, pointed a finger and cried witch, and the ottoman soldiers came in with the intention of doing god knows what to harm the nymph. it wasn’t safe to beg for a return. she couldn’t just snatch the wheel off the captain’s hand, she didn’t know how to sail a ship. and by far the most important detail, was that she hated the sea.

it was easy to say that she was eager to get on land as soon as possible, whether it be venice or anywhere else in the world; she would see land and she would vanish, she would start making her way home no matter what she did.

her thoughts came to a stop as din let her eyes fall onto her figure and found herself wearing something she definitely never recalled owning; a sky blue sleeping gown that went just past her knees and she quickly adjusted the ends as it had risen, bringing a flood of redness spilling onto her cheeks. “ who changed my clothes last night?��”, she asked through a mumble. 

“ oh, i did! ”. the nerve of this girl to sound so proud had din’s head spinning. rosé continued to grin. “ i lent you one of my many fancy sleeping gowns. you were in that white dress for a hundred years, and a lady should always have nice clothes at her disposal. so i hope you’re comfortable. i can get you something nice after breakfast. “

at that, her stomach croaked and ached. the nymph only shuddered and refused to look at aphrodite’s daughter as she stood and chuckled, seemingly amused by such comedic timing even though din was hours away from becoming a skeleton. she hadn’t finished eating her dinner last night, the pita bread and the mead left to be collected and thrown to others. it broke din’s starving heart.

“ up you get! don’t worry, i won’t be bringing you on deck now. i know you might be feeling slightly uncomfortable after yesterday ”, rosé continued, now on her feet and looking through something in a wardrobe; din daren’t look, it wasn’t her business. “ marcato will whip you up something nice. he feeds us quite well, none of that icky sailor food most pirates tend to eat. ”

din hesitated, her legs falling to the side of the bed and her bare feet now touching the wooden floors. she was confused on why she still felt pain at the soles, like something was digging into them. until she recalled the thorn path, and the scars it would leave on her physical body. she thought it would heal given her curse of immortality, yet not a patch of skin had nursed itself back; it was not good. how was she to traverse lands whilst aiming to get back home?

“ are you hurt? ”.

even rosé sounded pleasantly surprised by the voice coming from the door. din quickly adjusted the skirt of her sleeping gown and did everything she could to avoid looking at sephtis. by far the most awkward encounter she’s had yet; she’d cursed his mother the most, her personal grudge towards hecate running rampant.

he leaned by the door, and had taken notice of how din had been studying her aching feet with a small sneer on her face. “ don’t worry, seph. i’ll get marcato to patch her up nicely. what is it, din? a cut or a bruise? ”, din really didn’t want to be showing them her feet, it felt odd.

“ a scar. it’s still healing ”, she murmured and heard another hum from sephtis who then approached her and leaned down in front of her, observing the scar that her run to the side of her feet, raging with redness and aching to brush against. she had to look away.

sephtis observed in silence, “ rose thorns. they usually have this fungus growing in them that scars and swells up the injury it leaves. where did you get these from? ”. no answer, din didn’t need to respond when he could guess it for himself. “ i see. i thought you were immortal, aren’t you usually supposed to heal quickly? ”.

“ i still feel pain and gets scars like any other mortal ”, din said defensively, almost moving to show the other scar she had gained on her stomach but that was something far too intimate and private, a memory she liked to bury in a black hole somewhere in her mind. “ i-i don’t know why this isn’t healing. ”

“ enchanted thorns? ”, rosé suggested from beside her, placing a change of clothes folded neatly beside the nymph and tapped her chin. it was a cute habit. “ hardly seen in real life, most likely fabricated in that period of sleep you were in. ” din scowled, she disliked how they brought it up so casually, hardly with any caution that it might bring hurt to the nymph.

sephtis sighed after standing, “ i don’t know. but i’ll ask marc to whip up a remedy for the swelling and burning sensation. if she’s like this then we can’t really explore venice with much comfort. ” upon saying so, he turned and walked to the door. hesitated. but then left, leaving din staring at the wall in front of her and clenching the bed sheets under her trembling hands.

rosé quickly took notice and beamed care-freely. “ i know it may seem strange now, you’re on a pirate ship with people you most likely despise with a passion. i can’t blame you. but . . . we thought that maybe if you were going to return home, getting rid of your curse was perhaps the first thing you should do ”, she stated, din stared hard at her. “ in case something bad happens and all of this repeats again. and you suffered long enough, it’s about time you get back to your life. ”

din snorted bitterly, “ what life? i don’t remember anything from my life in the grotto. all my kin have passed, my parents are no longer with me and the grotto has perhaps become just another stream for men to drink from. ” she bit her lip. “ mortal men care little for the care we nymphs have for nature. the nature they go on to ruin. which is why i have to go back, even if i’m there alone. ”

“ seems like a lonely life, does it not? ”. the nymph blinked, taken aback. “ even if you’re home, you’d still be alone. it’s rather sad. ”

it wouldn’t be lonely, din wanted to say. but she didn’t like lying to herself. in fact, she knew it would be lonely. yet then again, she wouldn’t have anything to compare it to. her memories of the grotto had been whipped completely, she didn’t know anyone, so she had no one to miss.

it would be lonely, but it was home.

rosé got up and shrugged gently, placing the change of clothes within din’s reach, but before she could walk off, din had to ask something that had been gnawing at her mind since last night. in her dreams, it was pleasantly forgotten; but now it was important. she didn’t know whether rosé would be honest, but she still dared to ask.

“ last night ”, she stated. rosé stopped. “ at the inn. you said it was the man who found me and ratted me out as a witch. was it really him, or was it another pirate tactic to get me aboard your ship? ”.

rosé observed her for a while, to the point where din avoided her gaze, the air thick with an awkward tension. had she said something that brought offense? she knew it was a bold claim to make, but honesty goes a long way.

“ din. ”

the nymph looked up.

rosé offered her a warm smile, nothing like the cheshire grin she had gotten used to. “ we don’t like playing dirty. that’s something i can promise you. we’re not our parents in that sense. we like honesty. and we wouldn’t make this up just to get you onboard. we want to help ”, she said. “ just as we’d help any other person with your circumstances. ”

din rose a brow. “ okay. maybe not any other person. we owe it to you. our parents wrong you, and we’re here to correct it. it mustn’t be nice to kill all who you touch, and live out some of your closest friends. where’s the fun in that? ”. rosé’s words seemed genuine. din was no professional lie-catcher, but nymphs never lied, sworn to pure honesty. she could tell when someone was being anything but purely honest. but rosé had surprised her.

it was pleasant, in a way, to learn that they carried good intentions. but her rage was still boiling, she still hadn’t forgotten what they’d done beyond putting her to sleep for a century. they destroyed all that she loved. and yes, her sorrow cost three hundred lives; at the expense of the god’s betrayal, of course, giving her a gift she hadn’t asked for and cursing her with immense trickery which was probably funny from where they saw it. to her, it was anything but. never once had she laughed whilst stuck in that night-mare dimension, not even a smile.

it was only sorrow, painful sorrow.

“ we’re going to make this right. we owe it to you in a way ”, rosé continued, tapping her foot against the floors. “ i don’t really regret touching that gold. it awoke someone who will now give us the chance of an adventure of a life-time, and we’d be doing something for a good cause. ”

the nymph glowered, “ i’m not a compass. ”

“ no. you’re not ”, rosé quickly corrected herself. “ but you must understand, the whole concept of piracy is deemed a taboo. and we’ve sort of allowed ourselves into a self-fulfilling prophecy. we do pillage and steal and fight. with you onboard, it’s going the first time we’ll be venturing out for a good cause. we’re not heading off into the world to steal to survive. we’ll be helping you. and god knows, you deserve it. ”

it was deemed too perfect of an opportunity for din to accept. for all she knew she could be dumped back onto the hands of these gods and perhaps killed. she didn’t trust the kids yet, she couldn’t bring herself to do so when she still ached so much. deities weren’t good beings, they were selfish and it was painful to see the respect normal mortals held for them. they allowed their own personal grudges to have an impact on the world.

she wasn’t sure if it was true but she’d heard that after the fall of the january festival, there was ten consecutive days of rain that brought about a flood in the coastal region; poseidon’s doing, no less. demeter’s anger killed most of the crops. most gods allowed their anger to run wild and it hurt the greek population more than din’s storm did.

it was ironic, and unfair. yet she was perfectly comfortable with accepting the role as the antagonist. she had the perfect tragic backstory to become one. although most antagonists wind up crushed under the weight of the gods, din promised to be sly.

but right now, at that very moment, she had no choice but to comply. strand on a ship in the middle of the mediterranean, she would have to play along and then flee when they got to venice. it was the only way. would she be alone again? yes. but better alone than with these people.

she hadn’t noticed how quiet she’d gotten, and when she looked up, rosé was still smiling, but now sat beside her. din could only raise the corner of her lip and bow her head in slight dismay, squeaking when she felt what appeared to be a pair of cherry lips pressing against her cheek. rosé then quickly stood up. “ i’ll ask marc to get your breakfast ”, she said and then left, leaving a blushing din recovering holding her cheek, heart hammering.

the only worry she had, was that the charm of these demi-gods would be too much for her aching heart to handle.

･ ｡ﾟ.��⊹･゜

the clothes felt weird.

as a nymph, din was used to no clothes at all. most nymphs would display their bodies and cover themselves with leafs around intimate parts, and took to nature to decorate their hair and bodies similar to how a mortal would craft jewelry and accessories from gold and stones.

the first time din saw her reflection after a century, she didn’t recognize herself. she hadn’t realized she had blonde hair quite like the locks she owned, and her eyes perhaps weren’t as azure as before. oddly, she thought back to the girl in her dreams. and how their features were basically swapped. for reasons unknown, she found the girl’s beauty far more striking than what the nymph saw in the mirror.

regardless, she fixed the tight waist-coast hugging her torso, the sleeves of the white shirt rolled up as they were a little long. the skirt was by far her favorite part; navy blue, her favorite color, and it went just past her ankles. shoes polished and clicking against all they touched, din thought that she could very well pass as a peasant girl, or maybe a maid or cook working on a ship. ordinary, just the way she liked it.

she remained uncertain of what to do with her hair, and in the end, let it fall loose after brushing it.

what was for breakfast was unknown to her, but it smelt nice when she stepped out onto the hallway, hands grazing against the walls to keep herself balanced. although it was a big ship and the water seemed calmer, din was still disturbed by the trembling and wading just as any person with a fear of the ocean would feel.

“ din! you’re up, that’s good! ”.

marcato sounded pleasant that morning, he had an air to him that was identical to his father’s. but apollo was more of a flamboyant god with smiles that could blind; what she now stared at was an almost exact replica coated in timidity.

in his hands, he held two wooden bowls and she spotted what appeared to be porridge with honey and chopped bananas on the stop, and she held her stomach so it wouldn’t cry out at the sight of something so divine.

she was seconds away from forgetting her manners, but she composed herself as the male placed the one bowl down on the table and beckoned her over. din gave a suspicious look around, marcato seemingly knowing why. “ don’t worry, i asked everyone to stay on deck so you can eat in peace. daeva is quite grumpy during the morning, and griffin is too loud ”, the sunny boy laughed and began to eat from the other bowl. “ dig in before it gets cold. ”

with some hesitation, din complied, lifting her spoon and observing the oats. could a ship like this really house such incredible ingredients? she wasn’t certain whether they had just stolen it or had someone make it for them, but din was impressed. from inside, it was already far prettier than the paladin, which she was supposed to have sailed off in that morning.

the thought of what would’ve happened to her on that vessel, aboard with only men, with a rumor flying around of her being a witch; din didn’t wish to linger on it. so with a shudder, she began to eat.

“ i know this hardly seems like a pirate ship. but it’s home for us ”, marcato said after a few silent spoonfuls. “ griffin usually fixes it when we’ve set course somewhere. he gets quite busy. he strengthened the thickness of the walls of the gallows, so our food and goods don’t get hurt by impacts or accidents. ”

din stopped, spoon hovering by her lips. “ how often would i have to worry about any of those happening? ”. marcato chuckled, but din didn’t mean to be funny, she was quite serious.

luck isn’t something din would say accompanied her on a regular, but she’s been having quite a lot of it after she woke up in regards to food. the food at the inn was something she wouldn’t quite forget, and this breakfast was no different. care was put into it, something about the softness of marcato’s hands justified this. the sweetness rolled right off her tongue.

“ are you feeling better? you completely blacked out after you came aboard last night ”, din had forgotten this entirely. to her, she was brought to a comfortable bed and slept soundlessly. that dream then came afterwards and she found peace. only to be awoken by rosé looming beside her.

her lips trembled for a moment, “ i’m fine. i just have a slight phobia of open water. makes me sick. besides, my plans were spoiled. maybe it was anger or just total panic that brought around a total collapse. ”

“ maybe it was pain, as well ”, marcato set his bowl of porridge behind him and went towards a cupboard where he pulled out a vial. a remedy. they’d really asked him to make her something for her injuries. her toes curled slightly, wondering if it would sting or hurt any further than the excessive burning on the scars on her soles. “ this will do the trick. ”

“ you don’t have t— ”.

“ i do ”, marcato said quickly, walking on over to her and sitting in front of her after pulling up a chair. “ it wouldn’t feel right to have an injured person aboard. i can tell you’re hurting. comes with being the son of the god of disease and healing. ”

could he sleep knowing someone nearby was in pain, she wondered. marcato motioned to her shoes, and after finishing her breakfast, din slipped the small heels off and hugged her knees to her chest, feeling bashful and she stopped the young man as he went to pour the medicine onto a cotton bud. “ can i do it myself? ”, she questioned.

he moved to give her the bud, but she shook her head. he would have to place it on the table, because if she touching something he was holding, she would make it disappear. it was just like what occurred with daeva’s sword the other day.

“ ah, your power. ”

marcato applied more of the oil-like substance onto the bud and then placed it on the table. and din took it quickly, and slowly dabbed it against the scars which would most likely turn purple if they hadn’t been treated any sooner. it didn’t hurt or sting to apply the medicine, to her pleasant surprise. “ it smells nice ”, she murmured. “ like— ”.

“  —chrysanthemums? i add floral scents to my medicine ”, the healer said, cheeks dusted pink like he’d just shared a timid secret. “ it makes the healing experience pleasant. most medicines smell like bitter herbs, and floral scents relax people. ”

din chuckled vaguely, amused by the confession. although she was forced to agree; floral scents were one of the many wonders of the world. they came in huge quantities and distinctions. subconsciously, din thought back to the grotto, and wondered whether she would familiarize with these blessed scents.

flowers were truly the gift of the world. it was as if persephone traced every single one with precision, and then breathed life into it. there wasn’t a flower that din didn’t know, but she hoped that perhaps she would come across others on her way back home.

in these thoughts, din hardly took notice of how quickly the scars were healing; like magic. she continued to picture the wind of colors that came with leafs and flowers. it was a form of meditation for her, she just had to picture what mattered to her the most. her thoughts ran wild of what beauties she would find back home.

“ do you have a favorite flower? ”.

she immediately shook her head, “ i don’t. it wouldn’t be fair to pick a favorite when they have so much value, one matters just as much as the other. medicine, food, beverages, most also aid in the care of our world. i love each one, even the ones i may not know about. ” with that said, din looked up at marcato. “ do you? ”.

“ u-uh, verbascum clementine, maybe. especially the ones with the faint yellow or orange color. i would say sunflower but . . . ”. din chuckled again, it would be self-explanatory. “ b-but i also like lavenders. ” marcato met her gaze shyly.

before she could conjure a response, din heard a noise from the entrance of the kitchen and spotted somnia. daughter of hypnos, and that morning, din didn’t find any energy to insult or argue. “ captain is calling all of us on deck, he says it’s urgent ”, somnia said and yawned into her hand, before taking a quick leave.

din glanced back down at the soles of her feet and found the redness fading and the swelling would soon be over. so she slipped her shoes back on and picked up her bowl of porridge and brought it over to what appeared to be a sink. “ y-you don’t have to wash it! ”.

it would be impolite if she didn’t, but the captain was calling, and she didn’t want to be the one keeping people waiting. so she left it on the side, adjusting her clothes before following marcato onto the deck.

what was difficult was getting up the stairs without feeling like she would tumble back, but she broke through into the sunlight which blinded her, her hands quickly thrown before her eyes in an attempt to protect them. she could hear the waves crashing from below, but the sound amplified as she stepped out, her stomach spinning with anxiety.

but as her eyes slowly adjusted, she blinked and was welcomed by a sight unlike any other. it was most definitely the most stunning ship she’d come to see, polished and clean, not a hole or crack in sight. it smelled of fresh paint and sea water, a funny mixture yet one that didn’t irritate or cause strange sensations.

“ morning, din! ”.

she heard griffin call from the side. the son of hephaestus didn’t share many resemblances to his father aside from the ears and perhaps the pouted lips. griffin was boyish, with dimples and muscles in every sense. she knew his father lingered with cyclopses, creatures unharmed by flames and also master smiths and creators.

marcato was right in saying that the ship looked so pleasant due to griffin’s seemingly strive at perfection. everything was precisely placed; who on earth would’ve guessed this to be a pirate ship?

“ busy so early in the morning? ”, she asked, feeling comfortable to talk to him the most out of everyone else in the crew. she continued to hold a hand against her forehead to avoid being blinded, whilst approaching a working griffin. “ what are you doing? ”.

griffin sniffled and then raked a hand through his brown hair, “ adding some metal onto the cannon side. not a thick sheet so it shouldn’t weight that much, but usually when we engage in sea warfare, our port cannons get butchered. we’ve lost two in our encounter in tortuga. so we can’t really repeat the same mistakes. ”

din wouldn’t have known that they suffered during warfare for how cared for the ship was. but as she looked deeply, she saw minor scratches on the edge of the port side, scars gained from engaging with people who had far more experience. but she thought of piracy of something like an apprenticeship; you learn on the way, and usually end up knowing more than scholars.

“ you seem to know quite a lot ”, she uttered, mostly under her breath but griffin picked it up with some ease.

he even laughed, setting down a hammer he held onto the floor and rubbing his scarred hands. “ i hear that a lot. i’ve been on the run from bitter gods for a while. maybe since i was fifteen or sixteen. when cap found me, i’d already gone through about four different crews ”, he revealed. “ two spanish ones, one french and one portuguese. i was always the mechanic, but i know a thing or two about sea warfare and the gamble that it is. ”

din almost didn’t hear what he said after he revealed something. about being on the run. well, it was no wonder she felt fonder of him than she did for the others. but it confused her; his father wasn’t a bitter man, he was fine serving as a blacksmith and being overworked to the brink of exhaustion. why would griffin be on the run? unless if hephaestus wasn’t the one he was avoiding.

and griffin spotted her confusion, “ my dad is alright. it’s his lovely spouse who makes things a little . . . complicated. she found out he pursued a mortal when she left him to be with ares, went absolutely insane. i guess it’s only because of rosé that i’m safe. ”

din turned her attention to where he nodded, on the quarterdeck, where the daughter of aphrodite sat chatting away with marcato and sephtis. “ i owe her a lot. she fools around a lot but she’s quite protective. i couldn’t have asked for a better half-sister. even if she annoys me half to death ”, with a snort, griffin turned back to his work.

･ ｡ﾟ.˚⊹･゜

the meeting didn’t come as urgently as din had expected, it took about an hour for the pirates to sort out an issue they were having with the gunpowder that was apparently weighing the boat down. whilst they disputed in the captain’s cabin, din took the time to explore the ship.

there wasn’t exactly much she could do other than walk around the deck. at first she didn’t advance onto the forecastle deck which was stationed right at the end of the ship, but it came to a point where boredom led her there, gentle steps finding her atop this elevated platform that allowed a view of the sea ahead of them that would scare but amaze every person.

to din, it was a matter of picturing the ship was the biggest component to the image. she couldn’t think of how big some waves could get, how easily this ship could be engulfed by one of poseidon’s murderers. the sea was an angry monster, hungry; it would swallow all it wanted. that was where her fear of it stemmed from.

it was no a matter of the beasts that laid within the waves; it was the ocean it itself, in its entire greatness and immense size, and the phenomenons that occur. whirlpools were by far her greatest fears; a large cyclone, a crack in the water sucking in all that couldn’t resist its great pull.

the very thought had the nymph cringing.

“ what are you doing out here? ”.

daeva.

din resisted the urge to roll her eyes and turned to glance at the male with a clenched jaw, “ am i not allowed? ”. what the nymph found was that her mood derailed the moment daeva opened his mouth or so much as came near here, it started the moment he pointed the sword at her yesterday; a foolish mistake, now she wanted him as good as dead.

“ no, you are. but the meeting is starting soon ”, daeva grunted, motioning over to where the pirates had gathered; just in the main deck, a map stretched out on a wide area with the captain pointing at certain places. at that, din moved past daeva, almost bumping into him on her way out of the forecastle.

she came to find theseus explaining the plan once they’d arrived in venice. by the nods he was getting, most agreed, and he politely rose his head when din approached. “ oh, you’re here! good, we were just going to ask you whether you’ve heard of tortuga ”, he said with a boyish grin.

tortuga? well, from what she’d heard, these pirates had wrecked havoc and had managed to tick off a couple of french soldiers. was it wise to put your feet back there when you had a navy after you?

“ yeah, i guess i have. ”

sephtis pointed to the island on the map, a mere speck opposed to the other islands of the caribbean. “ theseus says there’s a sea witch who apparently deals with curses. where in the island, i don’t know. but she’s there. and she hasn’t had many visitors in a few centuries ”, he explained.

din frowned, “ wait, weren’t you going to venice? ”.

“ we are ”, somnia cut in. “ but not because of the curse. we need to stack up on resources if we’re going to journey across the atlantic. we also need to find any island to stop at in case we have to hide. there are a few islands in between europe and the caribbean, and we need to find every single one. ” she nodded to griffin. “ he said the italians will help. ”

din looked at the taller male and he gave her a smile, “ relax, i know a couple of guys over there. they’re expert at maps. probably know territories we’d never even imagine. with the ottomans pissed off, the royal navy basically roaming the seas, and the french after us, we’ll need to be sneaky. ”

now she stepped closer to the map, and saw the lack of land in the atlantic aside from the huge continents of which she already knew. she pointed her index finger against the coast of africa, “ we might find a chain of islands here, and then cross directly into the caribbean. the shorter the distance, the better. but we also have to avoid following the trail of europeans colonizers. they’ll kill us. ”

“ well, we just about ticked off every european monarchy under the map. unless if we take down one of the ships at sea and steal their flag and clothes ”, theseus proposed, and griffin immediately shook his head. “ what’s wrong? ”.

griffin crossed his arms, “ we don’t have a lot of people in our crew. they usually carry twenty to thirty men in every ship. it’s fine that we have a small crew since we’re pirates, but the european ships will get suspicious. for that plan to work, we need more crew members. ”

“ we need to pick up more, then ”, rosé said pleasantly. “ i say we’ll find some as we cross the mediterranean. for now, we should focus on getting to venice, finding our sources, and we’ll pick up new members on the way. ” the girl clapped her hands, as if the meeting was over. “ great! now can we pick up more speed to get to italy sooner? ”.

theseus held a finger in waiting, and glanced carefully at din. “ i understand if you might be suspicious of coming with us. but we want the best for you, din ”, he said, bringing the nymph to frown more. “ this sea witch . . . she’s dangerous, but she’s our only hope. at least that we know of. we can break your curse if you want. ”

god, she wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. and although the course had already been set and plans had been made, din was still resilient in joining them. in fear of putting her life at risk. she couldn’t die, but if she was jailed or imprisoned by officers on sea, it would be another period of imprisonment. and it wouldn’t be long before she was trialed with piracy.

she couldn’t risk it, and she wouldn’t.

yet the sly nymph to look the pirates in the eyes and nod.

“ i’ll come with you.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

[poes-and-things]

Bugs on Skin

It wasn’t a good day.

I’d stubbed my toe twice working around the kitchen, and Leo’s constant shadow act was driving me up the wall.  The air was clammy, sticky, making my skin stick to my shirt but it was the middle of December.  My hair was tied up on my head, but the weight was creating a headache.  Down, it was overheating my neck and getting in my face.  I normally hated doing dishes, but this had turned into some means of torture.  I abandoned them after getting halfway through, knowing he would finish the rest.

I moved to the bedroom to hear my phone start vibrating on the bed.  A message from Makenzie.  A tone deaf message from Makenzie.  A reply to an annoyed message I’d sent her hours previous.  Her annoying response of “At least you have a boyfriend” made my blood boil as hot as the air in the room.  I tossed it aside and moved on.

I hadn’t felt this way in a while.  Things had been really good, amazing, since we’d moved in.  It had taken a while—he wasn’t very trusting by nature.  But things had started to change at work.  My parents were jumping down my throat.  We’d been in the apartment for six months now and I needed to get the hell out of there.  I needed to go for a run but that was something I had never gotten into.  My skin crawled like bugs were wandering the surface of it.  My breath was coming out in little gasps.

He slammed the door when he got home.  I heard his cry of apology right after it happened, the thud of boots on the floor, the crinkle of plastic as he wandered with groceries into the kitchen.  I could hear Leo’s nails hitting the tile floor, the clinking of his tags as he moved.  I could feel my blood boiling under my skin as I picked up discarded clothes off the floor and tossed them into the hamper.  I could feel the water push against the flood gates, ready to break through.

“Hey honey,” his voice said, dragging over my skin like nails on a chalkboard.  I think I visibly winced.

“Hey,” I ground out, dry like chalk, gravelly as if it had been caught in my throat.

“Did you have an okay day at home?  I’m sorry I had to leave…” his voice trailed off as I pushed past him to take our clothes to the washing machine, our hamper overfilled and needing to be taken care of.  Leo kept out of my way.  I’m sure he shared a look with Ian.

I started shoving clothes into the machine.  I could feel him hovering behind me and I just needed him to go, to clean the fucking dishes, to do SOMETHING that wasn’t watching me and making the number of bugs on my skin increase tenfold.

“Honey?” he asked, softly, barely a whisper.

I wasn’t like this when he left.

“What?” I spat.

“Nothing.”

The pressure left.  The sink turned on and my shoulders rolled involuntarily against the discomfort of the water on the metal sink, the clanking of the plates.  My breath escaped me in a huff.  I threw more clothes into the machine.  The hamper was full of white and light pastel colors.  I shoved around the cabinets, found detergent.  Slammed it into the machine.

The water turned off.  I took a deep breath.  I moved the dials, turned the machine on.  Ground my teeth at the sound of it working.  God I hated this.  I wasn’t a housewife.  This wasn’t my life.  This couldn’t be what I was destined for.

A hand touched my back and I shrugged out of it, turned and ran into a wall.

His smell overwhelmed me.  Soft and strong at once.  It reminded me of that morning, lying in bed, my head on his chest as he laughed at something dumb I said.  His hands had stroked my arms, fingers rested in my hair.  The thought of it made the bugs on my skin crawl faster.

“What is happening.  Talk to me,” he commanded, the gruffness of his voice punctuating the seriousness of his concern.  I wanted to scream at him.  I wanted to hit him.  I couldn’t even look at him.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.  What is happening.”

“NOTH. ING.”

My eyes looked up into his.  I could feel mine burning.  His were cool with concern and annoyance.  The blue was light, catching the awful fluorescents of the laundry room.  He hadn’t changed out of his uniform.

“Bullshit,” he said again.  A soft word.  Said with love.  I wanted to smack him.

“I need space.”

He shook his head.  “No.  Talk to me.”

I tried to turn away but his hands grabbed me to keep me there and I could breathe fire.  I wanted to scream from the roof.  I wanted to beat his chest.  I wanted to kick and to pull and to break something.  For the love of GOD I wanted to break something.  I cried instead.

Which made him panic.  I watched as his expression shifted from concerned annoyance to worried panic.  The tears rolled down my cheek silently.  I knew I looked ridiculous, my expression screwed up into one of anger with hot tears rolling down my face.  I looked insane.

He released me.

“Put shoes on,” he commanded.  “We’re getting out of here.  Go to the car.”

The last thing I wanted to do was listen to him, but he arched an eyebrow, daring me to resist.  I huffed instead, angrily wiped at my face, enraging the bugs, and brushed past him to grab a pair of tennis shoes.

He took care of Leo while I waited by the car.  My arms were folded over my chest, my leg kept moving to the rhythm of the feet on my skin.  Very fast.  Staccato.  A scream rested in my chest, waiting to be released.

Moments passed.  He had changed into a pair of jeans.  Motioned for me to get into the truck.  I did.  Sat close to the door.  He told me to choose the music.  I put on Five Finger Death Punch.  He said nothing.  I watched the landscape as we drove.  He said nothing about my attitude.  Nothing about work.  Nothing about my lack of coat in -10 weather.  My skin was crawling.  My eyes had already leaked tears of weakness.  I wanted to scream and he was sitting there silently.

He pulled into a parking spot outside of a building it took me a second to recognize.  He reached into the backseat of his truck, into the clutter I intentionally ignored, and pulled out a couple cases.  His guns.

“Get out,” he said.  I stayed put.  “Sophie, I swear to God get out of the goddamn truck.”

I looked back at him to see a carefully neutral face.  I wanted to hit him.  I opened the door and got out, my feet hidden in snow, my leggings immediately wet.  My arms, naked to the air, wrapped around me.  I moved forward, knowing the building would be warm.  Something hit my head and fell in the snow.  His sweatshirt.  I put it on.  Enveloped by him, by his smell, I took a deep breath I didn’t realize I was holding.  The hand around my heart that I didn’t realize was there loosened a bit.  Relaxed a touch.  I focused on the smell, not the feeling of the bugs as I followed him into the shooting range.

He set me up in the lane next to him.  Gave me his .9 mm.  The guy working the place had given me glasses and a set of headphones.  I hadn’t wanted to wear them but a look from Ian and they were donned.  He also gave me two boxes of bullets.  Told me he was in the lane to my right if I needed him.

The first time he took me to the range I was nervous and stumbled a lot.  Back then, it had been years since I’d fired a gun.  He had to remind me what to do.  I remember it being very hands on, very quiet, very calm.  I remember making out with him in his truck afterwards.  The food we got even later.  The sex we had in his kitchen, on the couch, against the wall.  I remember going to the range weeks later and being more sure of myself.  When I moved in we tried to go at least once a month, a means of release.

I loaded the chamber, aimed, and fired.  I fired until there was nothing left.  I reloaded, aimed, and fired until there was nothing left.  I let the heavy, cottony recoil of the gun wash over me, pull the bugs from my skin, cleanse my soul of the anger, of the frustration.  I took deep breaths to make precise shots.  I made my clusters close and neat and forgot about the grating noise of the water from the faucet hitting the metal sink.  I let the frustration roll off of me in waves.

When the boxes of bullets were empty, I paused for a moment, looked at the targets across the way.  I was breathing heavily, the gun heavy in my hand.

He was there, then.  His chest was against my back and I leaned against him, exhausted from it all.  I let him take the gun from my hands and put it on the counter.  I let him turn me around, press my face against his chest to smell him in.  I wrapped my arms around him, stabilizing myself, finding my center.  I took a deep breath and realized it was raspy and ragged, and that his shirt was wet.  We were rocking back and forth, one of his hands petting my head.  He leaned away for a moment, said something to the guy to the left of us and then pulled me along, into a hallway, down a hallway, into a quiet room.  The restroom.  The ladies restroom.  My crying was louder here, vibrating off the walls.  He pulled the headphones off and put them on the counter.  He did the same thing with the glasses.  His rested next to mine, I’m sure.

We slid down the wall.  I was sitting in his lap curled up against his chest, sobbing into his army issued t-shirt.  He hadn’t even changed his shirt.  He hadn’t even changed his shirt.

“What is it, honey?” he asked, his voice soft as a cloud.

I’d stopped crying.

“Everything was so loud,” I whispered, almost to add effect but really because I hated the sound of my own voice.  “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

His arms wrapped around me tighter.  I knew he needed more of an explanation.

“I couldn’t sort through the thoughts,” I continued.  “It gets like that sometimes.  Everyone wants something from me: my students, the administration, my parents, their parents, the dog.  It was just too much.”

“We can tell them no,” he said softly against my hair, through my curls.  “We can tell them we need space.”

“That will break my mom,” I told him honestly.

“But I don’t want you to break,” he said.

“I won’t,” I promised.

“But you did.”

I leaned back and looked up at his face.  His brows were pulled together, his blue eyes dark with worry and fear and sadness.  I wanted those eyes to clear up, to return to their light blue from the morning.  I wanted to bathe in those eyes, to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry.

“It was never you,” I whispered.  I didn’t blink so he knew I was telling the truth.

A breath he’d been holding that neither of us had noticed released then.  I knew I needed to tell him that sooner, but I couldn’t find the words.  I couldn’t get the bugs to go away.

“I know,” he said, even though we both knew he wasn’t sure.  He kissed my forehead.

“I’ll call Rusty,” I promised.

“I’ll talk to your parents,” he also promised.  “We’ll make this work.”

I nodded against his forehead, let his breath mingle with mine for a bit.

We sat there for what felt like hours.  I’d hated earlier that morning when he’d received a call about being needed on base.  I’d hated watching him put his clothes on, run out the door.  He had forgotten to kiss me goodbye.  I’d hated lying in bed by myself.  Hated answering the phone to my mother’s innocent yet invasive questions.  Hated hearing that my older brother and his wife were also coming.  Hated that I wasn’t with Ian because he had to be on base.  Everything turned sour.  But on the floor of that restroom, things started to get better.  We breathed each other in enough so that I could find my feet, so that he could go collect his guns.  I smiled weakly at the owner who gave Ian a clap on the back.  Let him hold my hand as he ushered me into the snow.  Allowed him to wrap himself around me as I realized it was fucking freezing.  Took the guns so he could better shield me.  I even let him play Cody Johnson on the way home, his hand laced with mine on his leg.

Leo was waiting for us, his chocolate brown eyes filled with worry, his salt & pepper coat ruffled with concern.  The dishes were done.  The wash as well.  But I let him pull us into the bedroom and return to the covers from that morning.

[utopianvoices]

paladin (1) | s.changbin

↭ genre: mafia au; fluff, angst

↭ word count: 3.2k

↭ description: After being caught up in situations you didn’t want to be in, you vowed you’d never play hero again. But will your conviction hold throughout?

↭ a/n: whew it’s the first time i’m writing action and i’m not very good at it, but i hope it worked for y’all! x it’s just the first part and i’m not so sure how many parts i’ll be writing but do look out for it!! <3

↭ warnings: explicit language, violence (?)

Sitting at the back of the lecture theatre always had its perks; eagle-eye view of everything that was happening below, nap sessions whenever you needed it, and best of all, not being followed by two hundred pairs of eyes when you have to use the main door to leave mid-lecture because your bladder decides that it has reached its maximum capacity. 

You settle into your seat and make yourself comfortable as students stream into the area; your heightened status making others seem like little ants. A few minutes in and you get bored of staring at unfamiliar faces, resorting to doodling flowers and stickmen on the first page of your clean notebook. 

“Maybe I should have applied to be an art major,” you mutter to yourself, admiring your doodle when a voice speaks up from the left of you. 

“You’d have to submit a portfolio during application and no one in their right mind is going to let you into the course.”

Rolling your eyes, you shut your notebook with a ‘snap’, turning to face the person who had the guts to insult your masterpiece.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Seo ‘Shit Hands’ Changbin,” you scoff, taking a good look at the boy beside you, staring him down as he puts his bag onto the ground and takes his seat beside you. “You’re early to lecture today. That’s a first.”

"I can be responsible sometimes,” was the answer you received.

Seo Changbin—your friend from college whom you had the same classes with—never turned up more than necessary. He wasn’t what you would consider a close friend, who you shared insignificant feelings and problems to, but he was friend enough that you could complain about your lecturer’s horrible skills and terrible planning when it came to assignments. 

He was also friend enough for you to be worried about the bruises that covered his knuckles and cheekbone. The colour of the bruises was a clear purplish-blue, indicating that he had acquired them very recently; most probably a day or two before.

“Are you alright?” you ask, eyes filling with worry as you run them over his bruises. “Those look nasty.”

Immediately realising that you had set eyes on his bruises, he turned his face away and hid his hand in his lap, letting out a quick “it’s nothing” before turning the pages of his notes—in hopes of making it look like he was busy studying the material—and you were smart enough to drop the topic as quickly as you had brought it up because it was clear to you that he didn’t want to talk about it.

With perfect timing, you hear the boring voice of your professor flood the lecture hall, making you sigh out loud. 

“I swear, he has to be a siren or something. His voice puts you right to sleep but then he also tries to kill you because of it,” you say, hoping your lame joke was enough to extinguish the awkward silence that was hanging in the air between Changbin and you. And it worked.

It was only for a second, but you were sure you saw the corners of his lips lifting. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

It was a Thursday night; which also meant that it was grocery night.

The only reason you chose to go grocery shopping on Thursdays was so that you could spend your Friday and weekends snacking and binge-watching your favourite shows without any unneeded movements. Thursdays were also the best day for grocery shopping because of the many sales the store was offering, to get rid of old stocks before replacing them with new items so that they can increase prices over the weekend. After all, you were a broke college student who was just trying to save money whenever you could. 

"That would be 25.30." The cashier’s monotonous voice reaches your ears, putting robots to shame. Poor chap—he was probably doing a full day shift, dealing with snobby idiots and bratty children. 

Usually, you wouldn’t have bothered when someone else was in a bad mood, but thinking of your favourite show that was waiting for you paired with a miraculous lack of assignments, you throw the cashier a smile and wish him a good night, earning a surprised glance from him. It definitely wasn’t everyday cashiers were wished a good day; usually people just tapped their foot impatiently, waiting to whisk their bags and leave. 

Satisfied with the surprised look on his face, you collect your bags and walk out of the store, a bounce evident in your step as you swing your bags back and forth. With nothing else to entertain you for the 15-minute walk back to your apartment, you start to sing your favourite songs. Loudly. 

Halfway through your self-concert, you start to take notice of the smallest things happening around you: It is a breezy night out; branches on trees swaying side to side freely with the trust that it was safely attached to the sturdy trunk anchored deep down into the soil. The wind combs through your hair as the stars twinkle brightly in the night sky, seemingly winking at everyone cheekily as they walk under them. The moon, seemingly irritated by the stars, illuminates the area brightly, causing the stars to disappear momentarily, but providing the people who were out on the streets with more comfort and a higher sense of security. Simply put, it is a beautiful night.

But while you were busy admiring the smallest things around you, you fail to notice that your beautiful night was about to be destroyed.

“So should I give up but really can I give up we live in a -” You’re abruptly cut off as someone roughly shoves you out of the way, causing you to drop your grocery bags, your groceries spilling out of the bag. You cursed under your breath when you realised you were just a few metres away from your home. 

If only I had walked slightly faster... Maybe it’s time to hit the gym.

Just then, from the corner of your eyes, you manage to catch flashes of black running past you, each shouting incoherent words. 

With the annoyance of being pushed out of the way so close to your home and seeing your groceries spilt all out on the road, you open your mouth to shout at the group of men when you finally grasp what one of the men was saying, causing your blood to run cold. 

“I think he ran into that alley! Quickly, fuck, we’ve got to finish him today or we won’t get another chance to!”

Finish..... him?

You stand rooted to the ground as the words continuously echo in your ears. There was going to be a murder happening in the alleyway seven metres away from you and you were going to be the only one who knows about it. 

The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to just walk straight ahead and into the safety of your home which meant that you were less likely to be murdered; but the other reckless part of your brain was tapping into the humane part of you, telling you that you would be as bad as the murderers if you left the poor soul alone without even trying to help. 

Damn you, rational part of my brain.

With your mind clearly made up, you walk slowly towards the alleyway, gripping your grocery bags tightly so that the plastic does not create any rustling noises that would give away your unwanted presence. Sticking out your head as much as you could without being seen, you slowly take in the sight in front of you. 

There were four men—who very much resembled heavyweight champions— crowding around a shorter man, who fell short by a large margin in comparison to the other four. His blonde hair blending in effortlessly with his pale skin, almost making it seem like he was emitting a glow in contrast to the dark alleyway. With the way you saw the four men cornering the smaller man, you knew that he stood no chance that night. 

At the sound of the men’s voices, your ears perk up, trying to catch as much as you could. 

“...Boss is going to be really happy...”

“...there is no way you can escape now since you’re alone...”

“... SKZ is about to lose their leader...”

Panic fills you once again as you realise that you were running out of time to help the blonde man. Unable to hear his response (”it was probably just him begging for mercy,”  you thought), you bravely—or some would say, dumbly—call out to the group in the alleyway, finally revealing yourself at the entrance, hands gripping the plastic bags.

“Hey!”

At the sound of your voice, five heads turn towards you almost simultaneously. If this was any other situation, you were sure you would have laughed out loud. But now that you knew the gravity of the situation, all you could do was gulp and pretend you were strong so that some miracle could happen and you could live to the ripe old age of 80 with the love of your life and five children. 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

Starting to freak out at the tone of one of the men, you curse yourself out in your head for not thinking of a proper plan before jumping in to save that man. Frantically, your hands search your jeans and jacket when you feel a bottle in the jacket that you didn’t bother to clear out before wearing it out for grocery shopping.

Pepper spray. 

Feeling braver almost instantaneously, you clear your throat and call out to the men loudly, making sure they couldn’t hear the distinct quiver in your voice. 

“Let the man go,” you say as loudly as you could, fists curling into balls to make sure no part of you gave away the fact that you were shaking on the spot. “Now.”

Unsurprisingly, you’re met with loud guffawing, the four men clearly thinking you were a joke. A pawn that could be destroyed with just one move.

And they weren’t wrong.

“Let the man go or what? What are you gonna do, little bitch? Go cry to mummy?” one thug asked, triggering another round of laughter from the other three. “Well now that you’re you’ve seen us, we’ll just have to take care of you after we’re done with this scum over here.”

As he says that, you see another thug pull out what looked a lot like a knife, the silver glimmering under the strong moonlight. All you had to do was turn on your heel and run out as fast as you could without looking back and you had a chance of surviving, but your feet were not cooperating. It was like all thought was wiped out from your brain—including the knowledge of how to coordinate your limbs to get you the fuck out of there. 

As the knife was passed to the thug holding the blonde man down, you instinctively rush forward, swinging your bags around in hopes of inflicting some kind of pain that will give the both of you some leeway to get out of that alley. 

The resounding sound of metal hitting a surface rings in your ear, followed by a loud “Ouch”, satisfying you as your planned seemed to be working. 

Dropping your groceries and grabbing the blonde man’s hand, your other free hand grabs the pepper spray out of your pocket, and you blindly spray it around in unnecessary amounts, running out of the alley with the man when you’re sure you’ve blinded at least one of the thugs. 

Dragging the man behind you, you run as fast you can towards your apartment, not sparing a second glance behind you in fear that the thugs would be there.

You fumble with your keys and practically jam the right one into the keyhole, throwing the door open and locking yourselves in. 

Hunching over in pain due to a nasty stitch you acquired from the sudden exercise, you finally get a good look at the blonde standing in front of you.

He wasn’t very tall—definitely average—albeit still taller than you. Some might have mistaken him for Snow White with how pale he was. He was wearing an all black outfit, causing his skin and hair to stand out a lot more than usual. 

With how much you were analysing him, you fail to notice the hard stare he was giving you.

“Are you stupid?” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth. No heartfelt “thank you for saving my life”. None of that. Just him questioning the functionality of your brain. 

“Excuse me?!”

Stitch forgotten, you straighten your back while staring at the ungrateful idiot in front of you, mouth agape. You risked your life to save this asshole, and this is the gratitude you receive?

“I said what I said. I could’ve easily taken care of them and you ruined everything,” he deadpans, walking up and down your carpeted floor, massaging his temple. “Are you always this dumb, or did you just forget to drink your smart juice today? I mean, which dumbass just rushes into a dark alleyway without any help whatsoever?” 

“Hey, you better watch it!” you finally retort loudly. “Of course I didn’t stop to think, you were in fucking danger! Be grateful I even stepped in to try and help when I could have just walked away and let you take those 4 thugs by yourself. You wouldn’t even have stood a chance.”

He looks at you with flashing eyes right as you finish your angry speech; and you don’t have to try too hard to imagine the steam shooting out of his ears.

Just as he opens his mouth to fire another sarcastic comment, a series of loud bangs resound throughout your apartment. Your head shoots up towards your door, as the realisation dawns on you

Someone was trying to break down your door.

You rush over to the window and peek through the curtain and to your horror, you see the four thugs you had encountered—together with another four new men. They were back and definitely angrier than before.

“We’re gonna die!” you whisper-shout, shaking the man’s hand frantically as you look up at him. “I should’ve just left you in the alleyway.”

He rolls his eyes as he looks at you, pushing your hand off of him as he surveys your apartment.

“You go over and hide under that table over there.” he says, as he points to your desk that was tucked away far into the corner. “Don’t come out until I tell you to do so.”

You obediently nod and rush over to your table, wincing as you hear the door struggling to keep itself together, pieces of wood dropping onto your carpeted floor.  

It’s gonna cost me a bomb to fix that...

Quickly crouching under your table as far as you could, you watch as blondie (that’s what you decided to call him until you find out his name) opens the door for the eight men, smirk ever-present on his face.

Why is that idiot smirking?! He’s about to get killed and he’s smirking?

“Now, why don’t we skip the part where you yack till my ear bleeds and get on with the fight?” blondie asks, an air of confidence and pride surrounding him.

Without any warning three men rush towards him at the same time, flicking out knives and other weapons that you had never before seen in your life. Unable to watch the gruesome scene that was awaiting to happen, you shut your eyes tight, relying on your sense of hearing to alert you. 

You hear the clattering of knives, shortly followed by the sound of skin on bone contact, and finally, you hear the thud of human bodies hitting your floor. 

Without opening your eyes, you hear the sound of feet walking towards you, causing you to push yourself against the wall, hoping the thugs don’t find you under the table. You weren’t the best at handling pain, and you definitely didn’t want to know what was going to happen if they catch you. 

Instead of rough hands pulling you out from your hiding place as you had expected, you are met with soft hands grabbing your wrist, slowly pulling you out of your hiding place. You finally open your eyes, and you’re shocked by the scene that met you.

All eight thugs were laying on the ground, some groaning in pain, while some were deadly still. You really didn’t want to know what had happened to those who weren’t moving. 

“I told you I could handle it.”

Your eyes snap up towards the man beside you, your perspective of him completely changing as you view him in a different light. 

He no longer looked like a man who needed saving in your eyes. Instead, you could sense an aura of danger surrounding him. You imagine him sitting at the top of the throne, crown high on his head, as he ordered people left and right. Suddenly, you’re not sure who the most dangerous man standing in the room was anymore. 

“W-who are you?” you finally manage to stutter out, unconsciously taking a few steps away from him, wanting to put more distance between the both of you.

“I’m the man that just saved your life, so some gratitude would be nice,” he taunts, hinting at your earlier conversation. “My name is Bang Chan, and I am also the leader of the most sought after gang, SKZ. But you can call me Chan.”

Taking in as much as you could from that few words he had just uttered, the last thing you remember is whispering an “oh my God”, before falling to the ground, your surroundings turning black. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

You wake up to the sound of whispering all around you, your eyes squinting because of the bright light situated right above you. You whine out loud— annoyed that your rest had been interrupted by the constant whispering— abruptly being met with silence.

Raising your head slowly, you look around the place, expecting to be met with your blue curtains drawn fully, and your cluttered vanity, but instead you’re met with deep red curtains and nine people staring down at you; seven very unfamiliar and curious faces, and two familiar and worried faces. 

As your brain registers the two familiar faces in front of you, you sit up quickly, dread filling you as memories of what happened before you passed out comes rushing in. 

Just then, you realise who that one familiar face belonged to.

“They kidnapped you too?!” you scream at your college friend, immediately rushing over to him and pulling him away from the rest of them. “Are you hurt?”

As you are busy running your eyes over him, Changbin shifts around uncomfortably, trying to think of ways to break the news to you. 

“U-uh Y/n... They didn’t kidnap me,” he starts, catching your attention. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, waiting for him to then explain what the fuck he was doing there if he wasn’t kidnapped like you were. “I’m part of the gang, Y/n. I’m part of SKZ.”

[stiles-o-dylan24]

Worth the Risk

Author: @stiles-o-dylan24​ Word Count: 2644 Pairing: Bellamy x Reader Warnings: language, angst, but also fluff(do you warn about fluff?) I’m shit at warnings I’m sorry Prompt: “oh trust me sweetheart, you do not wanna say that” A/N: This is my submission for the @justauthoring and her 14k writing challenge MASTERLIST

You halt your step and lift your hands, settling them on your hips as you squint your eyes at the sky with its dark ass clouds that came from nowhere. 

No sooner had you looked up had the clouds decide to drop open the floodgates making you groan with how far away from camp you are.

Turning around and high tailing it back the way you came, you lift your hood as you push your legs harder and faster to the cave you know is thankfully close by.

You’re just making it around the rock edge when you crash into something-- no someone.

“Y/n? What are you doing out here alone?”

Bellamy.

You lick your lips quickly, stammering “I just--”

“Never mind, get in.” He rumbles deeply in his chest, interrupting the excuse you were still fumbling for.

He grabs your arm putting you in front of him as he guides you into the cave with his hand on your lower back.

When he feels certain you both are safe, he turns towards you noticing the lantern you’ve started and jugs of water you’ve set out.

You see the look on his face and you shrug your shoulder “What?”

His lips twitch smiling softly, nodding his head towards you “Where did you get the lantern?”

“I’ve kept the stock pile of items up in here, won’t be the last time the rain strands someone.”

He nods and an awkward silence settles in the small cave, unsaid words burning the back of your throat.

“You going to tell me why you were out here alone?” He crosses his arms as he looks down to where you’re seated.

“I just needed to clear my head” You look to the ground noticing a small rock near your shoe, completely in need of your undivided attention.

“Alone? In the woods?”

“Better than being back in Arkadia.” You hesitantly lift your eyes to him and notice him furrow his brows

“How is grounder territory better than Arkadia?” 

You open your mouth to reply, however, you snap it closed and look away.

Things between you and Bellamy have been interesting lately. You have felt like things between you were progressing and you were almost something more than the pining friend you have felt as of late.

However one step forward and two steps back seems to be the occurring dance between you both. Every time you think he feels the same way, he closes himself off and puts you at a distance.

It’s in the little things, when you’re talking and he laughs or you catch him staring. There’s an ease and happiness to him until you can literally see something pass in his eyes and it’s like a switch. He will claim he has something he needs to do, then he’ll be standoffish for however much time he chooses.

Next he’ll show up and be back to being your friend but there will be more of a hesitance. It’s an endless cycle that you need to break.

He either is not interested at all or he’s not allowing himself to be with you. Either option is shit at this point because you love the damn bastard.

Bellamy gives you a smirk “Miss y/n, at a loss for words? Now I've seen everything.”

You roll your eyes and stand up “I’m not at a loss for words. I’m confused and I obviously can’t talk to you about it.”

He frowns and lifts his arm crossed shoulders “You can talk to me about anything”

You snort and walk to the other side of the cave.

He clears his throat “Look I know things have been off lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I’m pushing you away, but--”

“Oh I don’t feel anything, I know you’re pushing me away Blake. What I can’t seem to figure out is why.”

He closes his mouth and clenches his jaw, making his nervous habit tick more pronounced. A million things look like they’re crossing his mind but when he doesn’t say anything, you cross your arms matching his stance “I know you know how I feel about you. You’d have to be blind not to notice Bellamy.”

More silence.

Lifting your shoulders you breathe out a huff and continue “Either you don’t feel the same way, which is fine by the way-- we can move on, or you do and you just don’t want to allow yourself to be happy, which frankly isn’t ok.”

More aggravating silence fills the small space and you’ve had enough. 

Deciding to throw it all out onto the cave floor in between the two of you “Fine, I want to know why. Why are you pushing me away?” You throw your hands out to your sides, “Huh? Because from where I’m standing, we are so good together. But then you notice, reel in your feelings and shut me out. Am I-- am I wrong? Is there something I’m missing?”

Silence. Jaw clenching silence.

You close your eyes briefly before opening them and crashing your gaze with his, here goes nothing

“Why the hell are you so scared to love me?”

Bellamy shakes his head, glare settling in his eyes and you see him clench his jaw even more “Oh trust me sweetheart, you do not wanna say that” he grumbles out however he ultimately doesn’t say anything else.

You scoff and shake your head at his lack to elaborate “Well that clears up everything, thank you for--”

“I’m not scared of loving you y/n because I already fucking love you!” He throws his arms out to his sides, “What I am scared of is losing you because I’ve lost everyone I have ever let myself love!”

Your mouth slightly parts in shock, you weren’t expecting any of that.

Using your silence he takes a couple tentative steps towards you until he’s standing so close you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

You place your hands flat against his chest “Bell--”

His hands land on your hips, increasing his hold on you with his words “I can’t lose you y/n/n. I... I won’t survive if I lose you.”

You lift your head to connect your eyes with his, squinting through your confusion “So your big plan to ‘not lose me' is to make sure you actually lose me, lose us, lose what we could be?”

You take a step back from him, his hands falling away from your sides and you immediately miss them, however you need the space because him being so close messes with your mind.

After that kind of confession you just want to slam your body into his and kiss him until the world is done wanting to end, however you are also not connecting his reasoning, so no kisses for him.

“What kind of life is that Bellamy? If these last however many years since we were sent down here have taught us anything, it’s that you can’t live like that. We were sent down here to die, but we didn’t. We have survived so much, and you’re just wasting that. You’re spitting in the face of everyone we have lost because you don’t want to lose me?”

Bellamy closes the gap you created and places his hands on your upper arms “I can’t let myself be happy with you and allow you to get hurt... or worse,” sadness crosses his face, swallowing thickly before he’s continuing “I’m the cause of all the loss we have endured. Me. And I will not add you to that list just because I was selfish enough to love you.”

Tears prick your eyes but you will them away as you flinch your head back slightly “So I don’t get a say in this? We both just get to be miserable because you’ve decided it’s the better option?”

He again says nothing and you shake your head. You need space. Now.

You walk away from him towards the cave entrance and notice the rain has stopped. 

You look back and see him in the same position, his back facing you which gives you the courage to say what you need to “You know, you are not responsible for all the loss we’ve endured. And choosing to not be with me doesn’t automatically make me invincible to death Bellamy. I know you’re worth the risk, I just wish you felt the same.”

You don’t wait for his silence, with the last word said you turn and are running back towards camp. 

It’s still somewhat light out, which you thank whoever is listening since running in the dark woods sucks balls. 

Especially since now that you’re alone you let the floodgate tears fall as they wish and running with tears in your eyes AND darkness is even worse.

You hear footsteps behind you, not surprised in the slightest that he’s right on your tail. You don’t say anything though, you just keep running.

You keeping running until you can see the lights of camp just through the trees. What does surprise the hell out of you is the burning excruciating pain that shoots up from your thigh all of sudden. 

Crashing to the ground you get your bearings and see a... fucking arrow? Seriously?! Can’t the grounders see you are a heartbroken crying mess? 

Assholes.

Your vision is going blurry as you see a figure coming towards you. You hear a couple of thuds and the sound of a body crashing to the ground as you lay down further, completely losing interest in your current situation now that sleep is the only thing you can think of.

Your body feels light as air and as though you’re floating, welcoming the darkness to take you away from the pain in both your heart and leg.

Bellamy tightens his grip around your back and legs, careful of the arrow imbedded in your thigh, as he clears the trees and comes up to the gate bellowing to the guards “Open the gate and get Clarke or Abby! Hurry!”

He’s flooded with dread and worry like never before as he looks down at the most beautiful face he’s ever laid eyes on.

He looks up with tears in his eyes at the gate opening. With enough room for him to squeeze you both through, he meets Abby and Kane halfway up the walkway “Bellamy what happened?”

“Grounders. I knocked the one who I think shot her out-- but the guards may want to check if there’s more.”

Kane shouts orders to the guards as Bellamy continues up the path. He carries you into the Med tent, laying you on a table and going to sit on your non injured side.

Clarke comes in to inspect the arrow, finding the ever present sign of poison. She goes about bringing you an antidote while Abby cleans and stitches the wound. She finishes and pats Bellamy on the shoulder smiling softly as she leaves you both.

After a little bit Clarke comes back in “Hey, how is she?”

Bellamy never taking his eyes off of you shakes his head “I don’t know, she--she doesn’t look as pale though”

Clarke nods as she brushes a hand through your hair on the top of your head “She’s strong, she’ll wake up soon”

Bellamy clears his throat “Is it always going to be like this down here? Waiting at the bedside of someone we hope will pull through?”

Clarke furrows her brows “I hope not. We just have to make the most out of our good days.”

Bellamy flicks his eyes up at that “You sound like her.”

Clarke smiles as she looks down at you again “Well she is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister.”

Bellamy’s lips twitch in a slight smile as he takes your small hand in his much bigger one.

Clarke’s face softens as she looks at two of the most important people in her life, wishing they’d get their shit together and just be together already.

“You are allowed to be happy, you know that right Bellamy?”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything as he sets his elbows on the bed next to you and brings your hand enclosed in both of his to rest against his mouth, willing you to wake up.

Clarke smiles softly and pats him on the shoulder as she leaves you both alone.

                                      ***

When you wake up it takes you a moment to remember where you are and what the hell happened.

Rain.

Heartbreak.

Arrow.

Getting shot.

Your leg twitches. Ugh ow. Yup definitely got shot.

Groaning you sit up, swinging your legs over to dangle off the side and take in your surroundings of thankfully the familiar Med tent.

Putting your hands on either of your thighs you lift your bum up and gently slide off the bed, putting your weight on your good leg before testing the waters with your bad leg.

Clarke comes through the flap of the tent “Whoa whoa whoa y/n, take it easy.”

She runs up and steadies you with both of her hands on your arms “Hey you ok, dizzy at all?”

You smile as you set your hands on her shoulders bringing her in for a hug “No, I’m ok. I promise.”

She gives you a squeeze back “You had us all so worried.”

You pull away “How long was I out?”

Clarke grimaces “Three days”

“No wonder I’m starving” you both laugh as Clarke situates one of your arms around her shoulder and sets her arm around your lower back to help you walk “Let’s go get you some food then. I know someone is dying to see you.” She smirks reaching the doorway.

You don’t get a chance to ask who as she lifts the flap and you hear a deep shout of your name “Y/N!”

Lifting your head you see none other than Bellamy Blake taking long quick strides up to you. A breath getting caught in the back of your throat at the look adorning his face.

Clarke removes her arm and steps out of the way just as Bellamy takes his last step and plants his hands on either side of your face, fingers lightly gripping the sides of your neck.

He cradles your head, not wasting a second as he crashes his lips to yours. You go take a step back with the force but one of Bellamy’s hands wraps around your side to settle on your hip, stabling you from falling.

It takes you 2.7 seconds for the shock to wear off and you’re lifting your hands to settle around the back of his neck, pulling slightly at the hair that rests there. Effectively kissing him back with all the love you have for the man. He groans as he deepens the kiss and you feel the sound and the shivers it elicits all the way to your toes.

He pulls away dropping his other hand to your other side, and rests his forehead against yours as you both catch your breath.

“Bell--”

“I love you.” He interrupts making you suck in a breath.

You open your eyes and see him already looking down at you. He lifts his head from yours shaking it slightly “I was wrong. If it’s not too late I’d like to prove to you just how wrong I was for however long you decide I’m worth it, because you are worth it. Every risk--”

He closes his eyes briefly, tightening his grip on your waist he brings you impossibly closer connecting his gaze with yours “y/n, you’re worth it. Being with you will never be a risk.”

You smile the biggest smile Bellamy has ever seen as you tighten the grip around his neck bringing him closer. Rubbing your noses together you whisper “It’s never too late Bell.”

————————————————

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is property of stiles-o-dylan24. These characters aren’t mine but this fanfiction is. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.   Posted 23 March 2019

[kenzierose53]

Promises (xviii)

I was really in my feelings tonight so here is some angst and fluff. 

- MaKenzie ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EURYDICE

It was hard for me to sit here and wait. Persephone promised me that I wouldn't have to wait here long but every second feels like a year has passed by. What if he doesn't come? What if he has decided I wasn't good enough for anymore?

The sound of heavy footsteps caused my heart to speed up. They sounded like they were sprinting towards me, slowly coming to a stop behind me. I was trying to calm my nerves by playing with a flower but it was doing little to calm me.

The sound of a familiar gasp caused my whole body to tense. Memories of that gasp passing his lips flooded my mind. I took one last deep breath to calm my racing mind before standing. My body was begging me to turn around but I was still afraid of his rejection. Before I knew what was happening I was turning.

Tears sprung to my eyes as I faced my poet. Please tell me this isn't some sick dream. He looked worse for the wear. His hair was a bit longer than normal, messed up from running, he was much thinner than normal.

The light in his eyes was slowly returning the longer we stared at each other. My hand came up to cover my shaking breath, "It's you." My voice was so low I wasn't even sure he heard.

A large sigh slipped past his mouth as his head started to nod. It took everything in me not to laugh at his wide eyes. "It's me," he squeaked out.

The sound of his voice was a melody. My smile doubled in size, he's here! I took a timid step towards him, not really sure how he will react. He has yet to give me any indication of how he feels about me. "Orpheus," my tone was begging. I need to know if he is real if he will take me back.

He took a step towards me causing my smile to grow even bigger. I didn't even know it was possible for my smile to get any bigger. He looked as if he was hesitant to say my name. My heart dropped slightly...maybe he is rejecting me. "Eurydice," he sounded surprised himself.

The tears that I had been holding back finally started to fall. My voice was caught in my throat; all I was able to do is nod. He started towards me before I could but I met him halfway. I laughed myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist.

The tears fell controllably, the feeling of being in his arms again was overwhelming. The safety, love, regret, and fear communicated in this love was a lot but I didn't mind. All I cared about was that I was in the arms of my poet again. I have dreamed of being here every night.

I could feel his tears wetting my dress but I didn't care. My heart started beating even faster when he gripped me tighter to him. I responded by wrapping myself tighter around him.

I pushed myself back slightly so I could rest my forehead on his. My eyes remained closed, soaking in every minute of bliss. "Orpheus," my voice remained a whisper not wanting to disturb the peace of the moment.

"Yes?" His voice was shaky causing me to open my eyes. A slight blush was covering my poet's face. His eyes were wide as they stared into mine. I placed my hand on his cheek, something I know makes his heart race. The blush on his face got bigger when I started to lean in.

Even though I was dying to feel his lips on mine I wanted to tease him a bit. My teasing was cut way short when he pulled me into him. I felt like I was floating on air. The feeling on his lips on mine awoke a million different emotions in me. I never wanted to let go of him, at this moment.

I had to push myself away from him eventually. A giggle slipped past my lips at his pout when I detached myself from him. "When did you get so forward love?" I couldn't help but tease him slightly. Before I left I was always the one initiating physical contact between us.

He laughed at me before pulling me into him again. His chin rested on my head, a comfortable silence taking over the clearing. I felt cold when he pulled away slightly. "When I first met you I asked you to come home with me. If that's not forward I don't know what is."

My eyes widened at this before I just started to laugh until I couldn't breathe. The poet's melodic laughter filled the clearing, making my heart skip a beat. Oh, how I missed that sound! Before I knew it tears came to my eyes again. This sobered up Orpheus immediately.

He grabbed my face between his hands wiping away the tears. His eyes were wide, full of concern. Hesitantly, he tried to pull away but I latched onto his hands. A small smile appeared on his face at the action. Without saying anything I led him to the blanket Persephone lent me.

"I'm so sorry," my voice was hoarse from all of the crying. Orpheus started to shake his head, his mouth opening but I cut him off. "I should have trusted you. I was just so used to everyone turning their back on me...I was scared. You were so focused on your song that I thought you wouldn't even notice I was gone." He pulled me into his lap, cradling me like a child. "I was starving...cold...afraid. Hades' offer seemed like the only option for me. I thought if I left, you would have more to eat, more silence to finish your song...I thought I was doing what was right by you."

My body started to shake as I thought of that day, the cold haunting my mind. "I should be the one apologizing," his tone was shaky. Looking up at him I thought that I was going to break. Tears silently slid down his face, he looked like he was in pain. I wanted nothing more than to take that pain away. "I didn't think you were coming back with me," he closed his eyes as if he was remembering the walk.

I reached up and placed a kiss on his forehead, his eyes remained closed. "I don't blame you," his eyes snapped open at this. I just rested my hand on his cheek before continuing, "I wouldn't trust me either. I left you when you needed me most..." my voice trailed off at the end.

I had come to this conclusion that it was all my fault in my head a million times but I felt like I was being ripped to shreds admitting it out loud. Who is he to take me back? "I don't know why you would ever trust me again," I tried to keep my voice steady but it broke. I pushed myself off his lap, creating some distance between us. The look in his eyes made me want to jump back but I need to finish what I have to say. "I'm sorry that I will never be good enough for you Orpheus but if you would be willing...I would like to try. I can promise you now I will be better. I will never leave you again...if you'll have me."

I had barely finished what I was saying before I was cut off by his lips. The tenderness of his lips made me shake. I felt so loved and safe at this moment. Sadly, he broke the moment too soon for my liking. His forehead rested on mine, a passion in his eyes I have never seen. That passion ignited something deep inside of me.

"Eurydice," one word had me putty in his hands. "Don't you ever say you aren't good enough for me. As humans, we are full of flaws but those are what make us unique. We both made mistakes but we learned from them. I believe we are stronger now than we were before. I know my love for you has gotten stronger and it will continue to grow stronger every second we are together." the certainty in his tone warmed my heart.

"Eurydice, without you my life is void of color, music, happiness. You are my world, my everything, my love. No one can ever replace you. I don't want anyone else I only want you." I felt like my heart was going to explode in happiness. No one has ever loved me as much as he has and no one ever will. I refuse to let him slip through my fingers. "Do you let me be by your side," his eyes were full of hope.

This was our chance for a new beginning, a new life together. "I do," at this, I launched myself back into his arms. He fell back from the impact causing both of us to laugh. The next few hours we feasted on the lovely food and wine Persephone gave me. I told him all about Persephone and how things went.

He played with my hair while I spoke. It was soothing, familiar. "Did you get back this morning?" he asked.

A blush took over my face at the question. My mind traveled to sneaking out last night and going to see him. "No," he raised his brow at me confused, a small look of hurt on his face, "We got in late last night. Hermes was there to greet us and accompany us back to Persephone's home." He just nodded his head slowly, the look of hurt in his eyes hurt me. He must be thinking why didn't I try to go see him. "I wanted to go see you immediately but I wasn't allowed to," this brightened him up.

"Why couldn't you?" his voice was confused, apprehensive almost.

I reached out and brought his hands to my mouth, peppering kisses on his knuckles until he smiled. "Hermes said that we had to talk before I could see you," he stiffened at this. "It was nothing bad love, he just wanted to catch me up on your life..." I was hesitant to finish but his raised brow made me. "He told me about your mother and what's been going on there."

He tightened his jaw at the mention of his mother, a sore subject. My hand traced his jaw until he relaxed then I continued. "Once I felt I knew enough I needed to get some air. Next thing I knew I was outside the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of you," his breathtaking smile made me pause. I was soaking in every detail of my happy poet. "My heart was begging me to go inside and see you but I remained put. The fears I had of your rejection kept me put. When the lights in the bar flicked up I rushed up to try to see you through our window," my smile doubled thinking about last night. "And then I saw you. I had to cover my mouth so I wouldn't yell out for you. It took every ounce of self-courage to not yell your name."

He laughed slightly at this. "I thought I was dreaming last night," his voice was slightly breathless. I just coked my head at him confused. "I thought that I heard the train last night. I thought I was hallucinating because I saw you right out our window."

"I must have not been as sneaky as I thought," I giggled out. Our laughter filled the field again, filled my heart. We spent the rest of the afternoon in each other's arms, telling tales of the troubles we faced since that fateful day. Both of us struggled in our own ways.

It was hard for me to keep it together when he told me of the day that he drank the medicine. He sounded so broken, slightly ashamed telling that tale. I made the promise right then and there to never let him feel alone again.

The sun had just started to set when he whispered in my ear, "Come home with me?"

I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped or the blush on my cheeks. The feeling of his breath on my neck was lighting a fire in me. Turning towards him I captured his lip, savoring every moment. "Take me home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[amazingmsme]

Even in Death, I’m Watching You Kid

WARNING: Major Far From Home & Endgame spoilers, so you’ve been warned. Hope you enjoy!

Peter had to rush home as soon as he saw the broadcast in Time Square. The Daily Bugle had it out for him since day one, and now because of Mysterio's message, they twisted the truth to turn him into a villain. In reality, he was just a nervous kid doing his best to save everyone. He climbed in through the window of their apartment, and ran to May. He ripped off the mask, tears of fear streaming down his face as he ran into her arms.

"I saw the news, are you okay?" she asked in a panic, stroking his hair to comfort him. He shook his head.

"E-everyone knows. The whole world knows May, a-and n-now, they think I'm a b-bad guy," he choked out between sobs. The phone had started ringing, and once it started, it pretty much rang nonstop. Tons of messages flew in on all his social media and his email inbox was quickly flooding. Everyone wanted to know the truth. 

His phone started ringing, and he was afraid to answer until he saw who it was. "Happy?"

"Hey kid, I just heard the news." He sounded worried and a little sad.

"They know who I am, and everyone hates me now." His eyes were red and puffy, and his hair was messy from running his hands through it.

"Kid calm down, listen to me," Happy started off slow, making sure Peter took some deep breaths before continuing. "We're gonna help you through this, alright? We're not gonna let him ruin your life from the grave. I already talked to Fury and he's brainstorming ways to clear your name. Your an Avenger, and he's not just gonna let the media rip you apart without a fight. Pepper's already talking to news sources and is starting to try and clear things up. Don't worry, she's an expert at that kind of stuff, she did it for Tony all the time."

A lump formed in Peter's throat at the mention of his name. He swallowed it down and forced out an, "Okay, thanks Happy."

"We'll get through this Peter." He nodded, even though he couldn't see him.

"Bye Happy."

"Bye."

He hung up and looked at May. She had been staring at him, her whole body tense as she chewed her nails.

"I don't know what to do." He sounded broken and hopeless.

"We'll figure it out. But for now, let's stay at the compound, we'll probably be safer there." He nodded and they loaded into her car. The drive upstate was tense and silent, the only sound being the music from the radio.

Happy greeted them at the compound and welcomed them in, telling them to make themselves at home. May was able to stay in Vision's old room, right next to Peter's.

It wasn't the first time he had been to the compound. He had been there quite a few times before the Blip, but it was a lot more empty. It felt weird for such a large building to hold so few people. It was like seeing those pictures of abandoned malls: once teeming with life and energy now hollow and slightly menacing. It felt wrong.

He saw two people down the hall and walked towards them curiously. He was only slightly shocked to see Bucky and Sam. He knew Sam was the new Cap, and the nerves instantly hit him just like when he had met Steve. He hadn't really left things off on a good foot with them, and now because of the news, he wasn't sure where they stood. He was about to back track when Bucky noticed him.

"Hey you're Spider-Man right? We met at the airport, remember?" He had a wide smile on his face and Peter froze, unable to form words.

"I-uh-"

"You kicked our ass?"

"I thought I held my own pretty well," Sam mumbled before turning to face the startled teen.

"I remember," he squeaked out. Sam smirked.

"Damn you look pretty young, how old were you when we fought?"

"Fift-fourteen," he had started to lie, but stopped halfway. Bucky let out a low whistle and chuckled.

"Can't believe I got my ass handed to me by someone who can't even legally drive. I'm Bucky," he held out his hand to shake, followed by Sam. Peter took them, "Nice to meet you sirs."

A beat passed, and a heaviness filled the air. Sam gripped his shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah I guess so," he said, though he sounded unsure.

"It's okay, everyone know's the Daily Bugle is shit, and that Mysterio guy popped up out of nowhere! He has no credit to his name, and everyone knows Spider-Man. You've done a lot of good for the world, and people don't easily forget that," Sam reassured.

Bucky slung his metal arm over his shoulder, and Peter flinched slightly. Bucky backed up, but Peter made sure he knew he was okay. "It was just cold."

"Well in that case," Bucky said and pressed his hand to the nape of his neck, making him squeal. He chuckled, "Seriously though, we all got your back. We were fugitives after the little spat on the tarmac, but there were still plenty of people who defended us, especially Steve 'cause, well, he was a famous hero. And you are too, don't think that everyone's gonna turn on you over one thing. And not everyone believes what they see on the news."

"I hope so."

"I know so. Hell, I was an assassin and I'd say I've been accepted back into society pretty well, so I think you'll do fine. And if not, you got a whole team rooting for you kid." He ruffled his hair before Peter could swat him away.

"I am curious though, what did happen in Europe?" Sam asked.

"It's a long story."

Sam looked at his wrist lacking a watch, "I got time. And something tells me you need to get it off your chest." And so Peter told them almost everything. He made sure to leave out the parts about his crush on MJ and getting caught undressing with a foreign girl, he knew they'd do nothing but tease him for it. He explained the extravagant lie that Quentin had created and how he posed as a friend and hero, using Tony's tech to create the elementals and putting everyone in danger. When he finished, the men were in shock. Sam was the first to speak.

"Damn, that's rough." Peter nodded. Bucky looked at him.

"I didn't get to know Tony, but I wish I had. I feel like we could've been friends, and I don't blame him or you for what happened. His anger was justified, and he was a pretty good man. I can tell you meant a lot to him, and I think he'd be proud of you." Peter's eyes filled with tears that he tried to fight back.

"Thanks."

"That Mysterio guy is a fucking lunatic with a bad superiority complex, I don't think many people will believe him. Do you have a plan to try and clear your name? Do some damage control?" Sam questioned. Peter shrugged.

"I don't know, it's really overwhelming and scary. What if they don't believe me?"

Bucky sighed. "I'm gonna be honest with ya kid: not everyone will. But there will be plenty who do, and in time, people won't really care. There will be bigger threats, and you'll do something to win back their hearts."

"Yeah people are pretty easily won over by someone in a costume," Sam said. They left him sitting on the couch. It was getting pretty late, and he was exhausted from the day he had. He and May ate take out and he went to his room to sleep and hopefully when he woke, this would all be a bad dream. He gave him a tight hug before letting him go. He collapsed on his bed and was greeted by the comforting darkness of sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he was back in his bedroom in Queens. He sat up groggily and looked around, freezing when he saw a familiar figure hunched over at his desk. There was no doubt, it was him. He bolted upright and stood to his feet. His limbs felt heavy and everything was in slow motion. He choked out, "M-Mr. Stark?"

He turned around at the sound of his name being called and smiled. "Hey Pete."

Peter rushed into his arms and started crying into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry Mr. Stark, I messed up. I-I gave away EDITH to someone I thought was more capable but he was bad and people got hurt and it's all my fault! I stopped the drones and broke the illusion and Mysterio died but he blamed it all on me and I don't know what to do! He told everyone who I was and now villains know who I am a-and I put May and my friends in danger! I messed it all up, I'm so sorry, I wish you were here," he rambled.

Tony rubbed a gentle hand up and down Peter's back to calm him down. "I know Pete. That's why I came." He pulled away so that he could look him in the eye, a comforting yet firm grasp on his shoulders. "I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty pissed when I watched you give away EDITH. I gave her to you for a reason, and you doubted yourself and my decision. But to your credit, you woke up and did what you could to stop him. And you did a damn good job too."

Peter stared at him, eyes wide and taking in every word he said.

"You're your own worst critic it sounds like, but that JJJ guy sure does give you a run for your money," he joked. Peter let out a sad, hiccupy chuckle. "Take it from someone who's been in deep shit more times than I can count, there's always a way out. Whether you gotta sift through the shit with your hands, dig yourself out with a shovel, or if some rich genius digs you out with a crane, you'll find a way out." Peter's nose crinkled in disgust, and Tony laughed. "Not the most pleasant analogy, I know, but I hope you get my point. Now I'm not there anymore, but if I was you bet your ass I would fight with everything I have to clear up what happened. As much as Fury hates the press, he won't leave you out to dry. He'll do his best to defend you and clear up what happened, Maria will too. And Pepper's basically a master at damage control thanks to me, and Happy's really warmed up to you. You'll get through this, don't worry. And yeah, there's gonna be some assholes who won't believe you and might hate you, but remember, there's still plenty of people who hate me, so don't beat yourself up about it. 'Kay?"

Peter nodded, "Okay." He was still in awe that Tony was here in front of him. And he had to ask, "Is... is it really you? I mean, I'm not just making this up am I?" He knew he was dreaming. Dreams just felt different than real life, and with his spidey sense, he could tell when he was dreaming. Tony wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

"It's a fair question, I don't blame you for asking. I'd do the same if I was in your shoes. But yeah, it's me. Thought you could use some wisdom and guidance right about now." Peter nuzzled closer to him.

"Thanks Tony."

"No problem kid." Then he delivers a light smack to the back of Peter's head. He rubbed the spot with his hand.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Tong rolled his eyes, "Don't be dramatic, I know that didn't hurt. And that was for thinking Back In Black was by Led Zeppelin," he said mock seriously. Peter's brows furrowed and he tilted his head in confusion.

"You mean it's not?" Tony let out a deep sigh and ran a hand over his face. Peter noticed he didn't look as old as he did when he died. He was much younger, and the circles under his eyes didn't cut as deep. His face wasn't weathered with worry or wrinkles, and there wasn't a single gray hair in sight. He was youthful and seemed much happier than he had been in life.

Tony looked up at him with a fond smile, "You're killin' me kid."

"You're already dead Mr. Stark," he tried to keep up with the teasing atmosphere, but there was still a lingering sadness in his voice.

"Then you're just making me roll in my grave. Do me a favor Pete, and learn the classics." He clapped him on the shoulder, and Peter nodded vigorously.

"Will do Tony." A beat, and then, "I wish you were still here." Tony looked away.

"I do too kid. Honestly it felt like my life was only just beginning before it ended, but I wouldn't change what I did. Not for the world. I couldn't let him take away my family. And I couldn't let him take you away. Not again. Not when I just got you back." Peter could see the tears welling up in his eyes. "It's worth it to see you all grow and be happy." He wrapped Peter in another tight hug that he happily returned. "I'm so proud of you Peter. You'll get through this, don't give up."

"I won't."

When they pulled away, it was quiet. Tony broke the silence. "Peter, just- don't forget to live."

He nodded, "I won't."

Tony looked out the window and sighed. "I gotta get back. You'd think there wouldn't be any rules in the afterlife, but everything's gotta have a killjoy."

"Bye Tony. Uh, I guess have a nice trip?"

He chuckled, "Yeah, sweet dreams to you too. Don't get any bright ideas about joining me too early," he said with an authoritative tone.

Peter shook his head, "Don't worry, I won't."

"Good. I love you Peter."

Peter felt the lump in his throat grow. "Love you too Tony."

"Tell Pep And Morgan I said hi and I love them."

"I will." With one last nod, Tony turned and walked out the window and into the sky. Peter could've sworn he saw a gilded stairway in the clouds leading to the sun. He was surrounded in a warm golden glow as he ascended, and right before he disappeared, he turned around and gave him a wave. Tears were slowly streaming down Peter's cheeks as he waved back.

He awoke with a start back in the Avengers compound. He looked around before settling back into the bed. He wasn't as anxious as he was before falling asleep, and he had a feeling that everything would be okay. He could sense it the same way he could sense that Tony would always be there, watching over him. It was nice to know that your guardian angel was none other than Iron Man himself. It would be okay.