#he got more and more alone it makes ma so sad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blueberrypancakesworld · 2 months ago

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Saw characters comfort you

Mark, Peter, Lawrence, Adam

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, tiny emotional, kissing, mention of smoking

Summary : Everyone has a bad day, a day when you're sad and can't go on, or a day when the world just seems to have got the better of you. How good that even in such a dirty city there is love and comfort that will help you no matter what.

info : Oh man it feels like years since my last Saw post so why not start with a bit of fluff to try and get back into it.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark

He had always been someone who was relatively alone well until the death of his sisters in law there had been at least the two of them but that togetherness came to a sudden end when he found her murdered since then it was just him and his target again as a successor to the man who had given him a new one.

So it seemed if he hadn't come across her during his work as an investigator as well as a follower for John, a woman who tried to show him that there could still be something good in this world if you just looked for it.

It was a time of love and emotion, but it was always a time when the shadow of John and the various spies was over them both and more and more often Mark came home less and less, much to the chagrin of his love, until the evening when she couldn't blink away the tears either and when the door opened Hoffman was confronted with a painful sight.

He just wanted to take a short break in the flat, thinking she was asleep, but when he entered and heard the crying and screaming he knew something was wrong, ,,Darling? Is everything all right, I'm-" he interrupted himself when he saw sir sitting on the bed in the bedroom, crying, holding a months-old picture framed in her hand, a present from him for her birthday when they had both come here from this town together, only for a few days but it had been the most beautiful days of her life.

Sitting down by her bed, he put his hand on hers and stroked her, ,,What's wrong?" he asked quietly, feeling the pain when he saw her tearful look and how reproachfully she looked at him. it hurt like he had only felt this pain the last time he had lost his sister.

She sniffled again and tried to pull away but he held her tightly and gently, wiping the tears from her cheeks, ,,Ma-Mark…how long? How-How long are you going to do it? I don't want to spend every day worrying that you won't come back," she said, looking back at the picture where she saw a smiling happy couple, a couple who knew that what he was doing could not go unpunished and as much as she ignored it, she knew only the utmost was about a future together.

In the past he would have withdrawn from something like this, but only he was so far from his goal that he could give up now, ,,I'm sorry about your pain…but believe me dear, I just need one last game, one last time and then we'll disappear, then we'll be free of all this," he said, gently embracing her face, looking into sad eyes that sought honesty in his gaze.

An honesty she actually found and slowly moved into his arms, ,,Please Mark keep your promise please" she murmured and sniffled away the last of her tears as she gave him a small smile before he pulled her into a holding kiss, holding her body and giving her the support she needed just for that moment to be free of hope again.

A hold they gave each other even in the last moments before the free ride, before the finish line and before the end of the game she believed Mark believed that if they could just hang in there together they would make it together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter

The FBI agent was the one above the law, at least in exceptions, and these exceptions arrived when the first victims were washed up, the first victims executed by Jigsaw in the most brutal way and with each new victim.

Not only Strahm and his colleagues became more nervous as they couldn't catch the killer but also his own drive to suspect his colleague Hoffman became more and more obsessive, an obsession that drew him more and more into this horror.

A horror from which he could only rarely emerge alone, either with his arrest or his death he knew he had to be right to keep the residents safe, to keep those he had sworn to protect safe but the question was if he protected the residents who would protect his partner, his love, his heart when she was home alone?

If she couldn't get back from her work at the vets until the evening and was alone, who would protect her? Questions to which he had no answer despite her pleas, ,,I'll take care of it love, just a little bit okay?" he had put her off every time he drove a short distance in his car in the city centre and left her alone again as he had done for almost the last few weeks…until he got a radio message from Perez that sent a shiver through his body and made him drive his car through the streets faster than allowed.

,,Where is she!" he shouted as he arrived at the police station, pushed past colleagues, victims and others and saw Perez pointing to an interrogation room. ,,Darling, are you all right?" he shouted as he pushed open the door and found his partner wrapped in a blanket with a plaster on her forehead and a small mark on her eyebrow.

,,Peter," she said weakly and fell into his arms as he held her and heard her crying Peter himself had to fight back a few tears as the pain was written all over his face, ,,I should have been there, forgive me for being so sorry" he said, reaching for the cold pack she had been given and pressing it gently against her forehead, looking towards her to see more injuries.

But he saw an amused, angry laugh next to the trembling body, ,,That's not the point…I defended myself through you…but-but if not Peter please I don't want any more" she sniffled, only slowly understanding what she wanted, what the bigger problem was and what was bothering her.

He hugged her to him, she held on to him, slowly trying to calm down and he stroked her back, ,,I'll stay with you every night, you can always stay with me, none of these bastards will hurt you, I promise you love," he told her, his gaze filled with gentleness and yet seriousness as she stroked his head, seeing that he was just as distressed as she was, perhaps not physically but mentally.

But even now as she slept in his arms he held her as they moved from the interrogation room to the couch he held her and watched over her and gave her comfort, comfort she needed now and he would never let her out of his sight again because in the end she was the greatest thing he ever had and would ever get from this filthy town.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lawrence

The sound of metal clicking and a twitching noise could be heard as the blonde doctor made his way through the corridors of the old factory to his operating theatre, the walking stick kept coming up and his prosthetic leg made a clicking sound as the splints, screws and leather moved uncomfortably but slowly getting more and more used to it he had hardly given a thought to the day.

He was here to fulfil another task, to implant another key and lock in his stomach and then to stay here for a while before he would go home with his loved one, even after his wife had left him he only had John, but eventually he had found her, a lost nurse with a search for a new purpose and a goal, a purpose she had found in John.

With a slight smile he pushed open the metal door and stepped into the operations room not the best but it was enough, ,,Morning love" he said as he saw his heart sitting on one of the operating chairs a tea in her hand and a slight smile on her lips as she returned his words.

The two of them engaged in the kind of light small talk they always did as they went through the files together, she occasionally nodding to him when he didn't get to things and he gave her a kiss, ,,What would I do without you?" he murmured, seeing her wry smile as they put on the blue surgical apron together and turned to the body on the table.

It was a minor procedure, almost like a daily routine back at the hospital, but he didn't see her smile as she sighed as she looked at the scalpel and put it back in the tray.

,,Is everything okay? Are you unwell?" he asked immediately, circling the table and trying to prop her up to look for signs of pain but she just shook her head, ,,No…not so Lawrence everything here…can you keep it up with them?" she asked, settling into the chair and looking up into his bright eyes that gazed at her.

A look of guilt crossed his gaze for a moment before he took her hand and stroked it gently, ,,It's not easy, not even for me at first…but darling, I see it as the only thing I have left. We can't go back without being eaten by each other," he gave the harsh reply that told the truth, but she knew that if they turned themselves in they would never get back together and sooner or later would be executed or die in prison.

Releasing her hand from his, she hid her face in her hands knowing he was right and yet, ,,Isn't there something we can do?" she asked, hearing the twitching of the stick and the slight squeak of his prosthesis as he knelt in front of her, roughly sunken, taking both her hands and leaving kisses on them.

He was relieved to see that she no longer looked like she was about to cry, he always kissed her when she was feeling bad, ,,When we're done with this one, why don't we go into hiding? Just the two of us together waiting somewhere trying to get through it together…with you together we can do anything yes?" he asked leaning his head against hers for a moment.

Feeling how hard it was for her to get hope sometimes but when he saw her nod as she gave him a kiss and stood up to help him up and he took her in his arms they both managed to gather hope. Hiding didn't have to be out of fear, it could also be a no new beginning a beginning together for their love and hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam

The music boomed in his ears as the itars and drums tried to combine with the shrill sound of snoring, each louder than the other as Adam was out of the bus, the bag of groceries in his hand swaying back and forth, the cigarette between his lips judging him and the metal music on his ears making him moan from time to time or just bob his head slightly to feel the dancing.

The camera hanging around his neck had taken the latest photos, one assignment after another he always got from John every week, always from the same man…he knew why.

He knew that as soon as the photos were finished, it would soon mean the death of the photographed person, but he barely entertained this thought in his head, he was too used to it.

Walking up the stairs of the old apartment building past the same door and people, he found his door and unlocked it, ,,Honey! I'm back!" he called inside and closed the door behind him but got no answer.

At first he thought she was asleep, he put down his food and put out his cigarette before he looked for her in the living room and bedroom but she wasn't there.

He checked the bathroom to see if she was in the bath but she wasn't there either, ,,Honey?" he asked in amazement and heard a rustling sound, knowing that this paper-like rustling sound could only come from one room, the enlarged storage room, the place where he developed his photos.

Adam went there and actually found her standing in front of the photos thinking she was going to develop a few more while he was gone but instead she just stared at them, ,,Hey is everything okay?" he asked as he heard a sniffle and saw her flinch, seemingly trying to wipe away tears and turn to him.

Despite everything you could see that she had wept, cried a lot maybe for hours he didn't know but immediately his heart tightened, ,,No Adam…it's not all his fault…these photos I-I can't do it anymore…it's like a death sentence" she mumbled and held the photos out to him seeing how he was torn.

He knew they needed the money otherwise they risked being arrested, there was little other option but he also knew that his love for her meant more to him than the money or the prospect of something better, letting the pictures sail to the ground he grabbed her hand and pulled her close.

He pulled her into a kiss her hands wrapped around him holding on to him, ,,Thank you Adam…I know we'll find something but please stop" she said putting her hand on his cheek he could see he was fighting tears, he himself knew what they were doing was wrong he knew they would find something else and until then they would make it together.

It touched him how much she cared for him too, ,,No thank you darling I love you and we can do this…I promise I'll stop" he said pressing a kiss to her forehead and pulling her into a warm embrace holding her until their tears had dried and he lightened the mood when he announced that he had brought muffins which they ate together on the couch wrapped in a blanket.

But most of all they were not only cheerful but happy, happy to at least have another morning without playing judgement on a person they would never meet, they had each other and that was all that mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@megustadilf , @magmabayvi , @faultlessheart , @blackbunnymayw , @s1lut4adamstanheight , @icarus-star

#saw movie #saw franchise #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #peter strahm #peter strahm x reader #lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon x reader #adam faulkner stanheight #adam faulkner x reader #male x female #reader is female

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renren-006 · 7 months ago

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Savior | Daryl Dixion x fem reader

plot: Daryl saved you, and you want to kiss your savoir warning: slight mentions of almost taken advantage of, violence word count: 1518 a/n: I just had to write this idea!

taglist: @rosecentury

Back when the world had just ended, and things were still unknown, you were wounded around Atlanta's wooded, less populated areas. You had run from your car that got overrun, remembering the screams of your parents and the harsh pain in your ankle after you fell from the car watching them. You still struggled on your ankle; hisses escaped your lips as you walked. You had not stopped long through the days to heal or to rest, not knowing where the next undead would come for your flesh. Your jeans were worn and dirty, your red shirt now had holes, and you desperately wanted a bath.

The day Daryl came to your rescue was the first day you had fallen asleep next to a tree with the fire embers still cooling in the morning rays. You heard the crunch and woke with a startle; there were three men watching you, all eyeing your body like a prise.

"Well, lookie here, boys, some fresh meat for us," one of them said, toying with his belt to hide the painfully evident erection there. All three of them had one. You didn't know what to do, had nowhere to go, and knew you wouldn't make it far with your ankle.

"Please don't," you said, your voice coming out louder than you intended, maybe preying someone would hear you.

"Aw, look at her. She's begging. I want her first," the second man said, and the others shook their heads.

"no way she's mine," The third said, pushing his friend back before strutting twords you.

"No, No!" you said, shouting; maybe even the undead would save you. "Please!" he came to you, and you struggled to push him off. The others were smiling, ribbing their pants, and wanting their turn.

"Hurry up, man", the first man said. Wanting the man who was trying to get your belt off to rush. That was when an arrow went through the man's skull, making his body thud against the forest floor, and then the second man went down with a knife in the head. The man on top of you looked back and gave you just enough room for you to knee his body off you. The man looked angry as you went back further, your pants even more ruined from the mud. Thankfully, your belt was still on, and your pants only ripped slightly from his strength. The man went down soon after, and two men peered around the trees twords you.

"Hey there, girlie?" one of them asked, the same face the men had before they died. The shorter one pushed him back, walking over to you, bending down by the man, and pushing him away so you couldn't see his dead eyes.

"We ain't goin' to hurt ya," he said, his voice soothing you from wanting to leave. "We got ya know."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the taller one said.

"He ain't going to hurt you either. hands off, Merle," the man sad

"I got it", Merle said, getting the hint that I wasn't to be touched by him at all.

"I'm Daryl, that ma brother Merle. He won't get his hands on ya," Daryl said to you, holding out a hand; this seemed to be the first act of kindness this man had shown anyone in a while, and his face read it all too well.

"You don't save many people, do you?" you asked him. He shook his head, lagging slightly.

"Nah, normally we don't run into people. ya needed help, coulden't leave" Daryl told you, gripping your hand in his as he lifted you up. "You aint got no weapons on you?"

You told him, "No… I didn't prepare for the world to end." He nodded his head. Merle looked around, noticing a few of the undead heading your way.

"We gotta move."

That started your journey with the brothers for a few months. It was just you two. They trained you on how to hunt and how to fight, and most importantly, how to piss Merle off, so he left you alone. Daryl also made sure your ankle was looked after, and in no time, it was better. Merlemeantt, no harm to you; he was just desperate for action you never wanted to give him. Daryl became your savior and bodyguard, making sure Merle understood that would NEVER happen.

The three of you traveled until you met others who welcomed you into their small, little mountain-top community. It was you, the brothers, some sisters, and a man named Dale for a bit. Soon, the group grew and grew, but you only hung with Daryl and cursed off Merle.

However, the time with him on the mountain made you aware of your attraction twords Daryl, the want you craved when you were near him. You were late in your 20's20s, having experienced college before traveling home to your parents just before the world ended. In those times before Daryl, you felt like you were younger, but now you feel your age, you feel strong. For the time being, you felt strong until your group had to pack up and leave because of a walker outbreak.

Months later, you were entering the farm, your hands wrapped around Daryl as he rode into the grounds. You were mesmerized by how quiet and large it was here. While the others were setting up, you glanced over at Daryl, who was setting his tent up a bit away from them but not so far that he was secluded.

"You got a tent?" Carol asked. You looked back at the woman. You didn't know what you were going to do. For the past months, you had slept by Daryl and Merle, but now, you were not sure what you would do.

"She with me," Daryl said, coming over to you. You looked beside you at the man who had apparently finished setting up and had walked over. "That good?"

"Of course," you told him, smiling; he nodded and walked over to Rick and the others.

"You both need to talk about your feelings for one another," Carol told you. "I can see it clear as day."

"Carol!" you said to the woman who had become a mother of sorts to you over the months. “I…cant”

"I think you can. I think you should," she told you, patting your back and going over to the others, leaving you thinking about how exactly you could even begin to explain to Daryl how Head becomes the soul man you wanted to be with for the rest of this apocalyptic world.

It took you weeks and weeks to gain the courage, and only after he got shot did you tell him. He was lying in that recovery bed, not able to move a lot. You came in and sat beside him.

"Whatcha doing in 'ere," He asked you as you sat down in the chair by his bed.

"I…needed to tell you something…" You said to him, referring to the breakfast you had only a few hours earlier, which was being eaten away by the nerves.

"What? Ya hurt?" he asked, concern spreading fast across his face.

"No, no," you told him, "I…god, I don't think I can tell you."

"Tell me what?" he asked, his southern accent so strong inside that room that it made your head spin.

"How you've been making me feel," you started, "I just didn't. I don't want to lose you, and after you got shot, I figured I might as well tell you before you died, and I never did."

"What are ya going on about?"

"I love you, Daryl. I've loved you since you saved me, and God, I love you even more since you've shown me how to be strong in this world", you rambled to the man in the bed beside you. Your hands were in your lap, and your eyes were glued to them.

"Y/N," Daryl said in a soft tone you had never heard from him.

"I know I should have told you you were the man who saved me, and you probably think I'm some kid to you", you said. Worry eating at you again.

"I don't think you're some kid." he told you, "I think you're a lot more than that."

"You do? You asked, eyebrows scrunched together.

"That first night you spent with us, I didn't sleep cause I couldn't keep my eyes off ya," he told you, "I thought you were…blessed by a god or somethin'" he told you, holding your stare; there were tears in your eyes now

"I don't think I ever heard you talk like that," you said, smiling through the slight tears brimming your eyes.

"Ya won't again," he told you, pulling you down to him and kissing your lips so deeply. The door behind you opened, and then the person proceeded to fall into the door.

"Finally," Carol screeched. Smiles stretched over her face, as well as Ricks', who came to check on Daryl. Finally, you got to kiss your savor after all these months.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead imagine #fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl x reader

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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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Falling leaves - Flufftober 6

Summary: He’s a grump, but for you, he’s willing to change.

Rating: Teen

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: Y4: Holding hands

Square filled for @allcapsbingo (expired): O1: Pining

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, friends to more, general cuteness, Sunny vs grumpy trope

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

Words: 824

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

“Please for me,” you look at Bucky, who sits on the least comfortable chair in your apartment. Legs spread, and a grumpy expression on his face he glares at the colorful scarf in your hands. “I’ll look good on you. We will match. I made the same for me.”

“I don’t do scarves, doll. I’m not cold. It’s still warm outside,” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. He loves that you like to make things for him, but you’ll not convince him to wear a colorful scarf.

“Fine,” puckering your lips you look at Bucky. “I’ll wear mine and you can go in your leather jacket. If you get cold, I won’t keep you warm.” You point your index finger at Bucky. “Now. Let’s head out.”

“Head out?” He furrows his brows. “I thought you wanted me to come over to help you repair your sink. “Where do you want to go?”

You put your hands on your hips and huff. “I told you it’s the perfect day for a walk in the park. I want to collect a few leaves too. You were the one bringing my leaking sink up. Please don’t leave me hanging. I don’t want to go alone.”

Bucky watches you wrap the scarf around your neck. He smiles as you glance at him now and then. He’s not immune to your charm and already gets up from his seat to go for a walk in the park with you.

“I won’t wear the scarf,” he grumbles as you look at him. You’ve got this look. The one making his heart melt whenever he’s around you. “I mean it.”

“I know,” you try not to sound too sad. “You can wear your neck naked, like a real man.” You grab your bag and the peacock green slouchy knit beanie matching your scarf. “I’ll be warm and cozy.”

“You’re freezing all the time,” Bucky points out as you try to ignore he’s so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s your friend and nothing else you tell yourself once again. “Maybe we can have a hot chocolate or tea after you collect your leaves.”

You grin. “It’s a date,” you exclaim, taking Bucky by surprise. “We can have a slice of pumpkin pie or apple pie if you like.”

“Sure,” he watches you grab your keys. “I prefer apple pie. My ma made the best, but there’s this little bakery I discovered when I first came back to Brooklyn.”

You’re suddenly reminded of Bucky’s past. This city was his home before it was yours. He’s, just like his best friend Captain America, a man out of time.

“Look at all the beautiful leaves,” you smile widely as your eyes land on the colorful trees and the leaves on the ground. “Let’s hurry before someone else grabs the best leaves. I need them for my next art project.”

“We will get them,” he assures you. “Which ones do you want?”

“Uh-the pretties ones,” you shrug. “I’ll know when I see them.” You crouch down to pick the first leaf up. “Bucky? Did you hear me?”

You dip your head only to watch Bucky glare at a guy who crouched down to pick a leaf up. “HEY! Hands off the leaves! These are for my doll!”

Your eyes widen when Bucky storms toward the man to snatch the leaf out of his hands.

“Bucky, it’s fine. There are more than enough leaves,” you place your hand on his back to stop him from killing the poor guy. “Let him go.”

“He tried to steal one of your leaves,” Bucky argues, but he hands the leaf back to the man. “Look for leaves somewhere else. This spot is ours.”

The man runs off, grumbling under his breath. “That was,” you grab Bucky’s hand and hold it, “very nice of you.”

“He tried to take the leaves away from you,” he dips his head to glance at you. “I can’t let him steal your leaves.”

You nod. “How about we collect a few leaves and have this walk we were talking about earlier?”

“Wait here. I’ll get the best leaves for you,” he runs off to look for the prettiest leaves. You watch Bucky for a while. He crouches down to pick up leaves, looking at peace. “Wait, I’ll help you.”

“That was nice,” on your way out of the park you are holding Bucky’s hand. You smile softly as he proudly carries the leaves you collected in a bag.

“Do you want to go home, or have some tea and a slice of pie,” he asks, hopefully looking at you.

“We can grab some pie and go to my place to have tea. Maybe you can stay for dinner,” you look up at Bucky. “Only if you don’t have plans for tonight.”

“It’s a date,” he says, squeezing your hand. “And tomorrow, we can go for another walk. I’ll wear the scarf too.”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #bucky barnes x you

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ashwhowrites · 1 year ago

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Older! Rockstar! Eddie Munson x reader, she goes to a concert of Corroded Coffin and Eddie sees her and he thinks she's cute, they've been in some dates but groupies of Eddie start to talk bad about reader and she's always sad because of that and Eddie decides that he doesn't want to see reader sad so they have a day without their phones so she can be relaxed and Eddie talks about that to his followers and he hates that people talk bad about her girl (idk if modern au would be good for this, but I hope you can write more Older! Eddie fics, we need him! No pressure tho!)

We can definitely make it modern au for the social media part. And I agree, we need older! Eddie. I hope you enjoy this and thank you for requesting <3

Fans

Y/N wasn't the type to go to concerts alone, but one of her favorite bands was playing and none of her friends would go. Her friends weren't into the older bands, but Y/N loved Corroded Coffin for years and now she was old enough to get into the venues. She wasn't going to miss her chance to see them just because no one would go with her.

As she stood in the front row, Eddie Munson right there in front of her eyes, she knew she made the right choice. She couldn't help but feel like he was constantly looking right back at her. His eyes stared at her as she sang along, her eyes switching from his eyes to his lips, to his fingers on the guitar. He was even more hot up close.

Eddie finished the set, his mind still thinking of the girl in the front row. She knew every song, every beat, and she was gorgeous.

"Question, how old do you think the girl in the front was? With the black cropped Eddie's girl shirt, and red lips." Eddie asked, the band in the dressing room as they stripped out of their sweaty clothes.

"No idea, but old enough to get in." Gareth shrugged. Eddie nodded, that was enough for him. He didn't bother to find another shirt, throwing on a zip-up and sweatpants. He threw his hair in a bun and headed back out to the crowd. Girls screaming when they caught him sneaking by. He smiled and winked at a few as he tried to find the girl. Catching the back of her as she headed for the exit.

"HEY! RED LIPS!" He screamed, he hoped his voice would carry over the sound of the screaming girls. But she kept walking, Eddie signed as many things as he could as his eyes stayed on her.

"YO EDDIE'S GIRL IN FRONT ROW!" he tried again, this time she stopped. He could see her head look down at her shirt and then slowly turn around. Eddie softly pushed past the girls, apologizing for walking by, he promised to come back to sign things.

"Me?" She mouthed as he walked closer.

He smirked and nodded, walking faster to reach her. She stood next to the door and looked around. Thousands of girls staring at them. Some older women and some young girls like her.

"Here's my number, use it anyway you want." He winked as he handed her the piece of paper.

~~~

That was four months ago, and they've been on countless dates since. She couldn't understand the concept that she was dating her biggest celebrity crush. She tried to keep herself calm around him, but he made her lose her mind.

She hung out with the band, she sat on the sidelines during practices. It was like her world flipped upside down.

Eddie was exactly as she thought he'd be. He was hyper, funny, and childish at times. He was still young at heart and enjoyed doing the dumb things she did. Age wasn't an issue for them, but it was for the fans.

Y/N knew that dating someone famous would be hard. She was a fan herself, she's read countless tweets about jealous fans and how cruel they could be. She never thought she'd be on the receiving end of it.

The relationship was still fresh, and the fans one by one finding out more about her. Some fans thought she looked good with Eddie, and many loved that she was a real fan before the relationship even began. But once the news got out that Eddie Munson, the heartthrob was dating a younger girl, the world exploded.

Every magazine was fixated on it. It was the hot gossip and the main topic Eddie talked about in interviews. Eddie was never a private person and she didn't expect him to be now either. But she wished her age wasn't a big scandal.

"Eddie Munson's new girlfriend.....read about the hot young twenty-one-year-old now!"

"Eddie Munson shows off new young girlfriend, love or just lust?"

"The lead singer of Corroded Coffin is off the market! But seems to only be looking in the juniors section."

Yeah, some got nasty about it.

She sat on her phone, looking at the comments below Eddie's new post, a selfie of them on the beach.

"He's only with her because she's young."

"Jeez can she be anymore see through? Dating the biggest star in the world at her age? was she even born when his music came out?"

"Probably dropped out of college and needs a quick money grab."

"she's not even that attractive.....I think he's more into her being twenty years younger than him."

"I hope she enjoys this while she can. Not like he's going to settle down and marry her"

"I hope he sees she's just in it for the money."

"I told you to stop reading those," Eddie demanded, snatching the phone out of her hand. He sighed as he turned off her phone, putting it in his back pocket. He crossed his arms as he stood in front of her.

"I'm sorry! It's just that they hate me. These are your fans and I want them to like me." Y/N said, looking up as Eddie gave her the dad look.

"Okay giving me that look doesn't make me feel any better about people making jokes about me being young enough to be your daughter." She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Baby, don't listen to them. They don't know about our relationship, why believe what they have to say?" Eddie said, taking a seat next to her. He grabbed her legs and put them on his lap, his rough hands rubbing her soft skin.

"These are people that love you like I do! I hate to disappoint everyone because I'm not the right age."

"If you spend so much time listening to them, can you listen to me? I don't care what anyone thinks of our relationship. The people that truly love me, like the way you do, will accept and love you. You aren't disappointing anyone and there's nothing wrong with your age. The band loves you! They adore you and support us. They don't look at you and see your age. They see the hot girl that was front row screaming her lungs out in an Eddie Munson girl shirt." He said, his hand stopped on her knee giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I love you and I love the band as well." She said smiling. She moved into his lap and he wrapped his arms around her.

"No phones today. Just me and you." He said, kissing her cheek as she cuddled into him.

"Just me and you." She repeated.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson x reader #rockstar! eddie x reader #ashwhowrites

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scoonsalicious · 7 months ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Sadness, realizations.

Word Count: 633

Previously On...: A phone call in the middle of the night sends Bucky to Jade's side at the med bay to help her through a "panic attack," which you're sure she's faking. You warn Bucky that if he keeps going to her, you might not be willing to take him back.

A/N: I didn't realize some of these parts were so short. They were difficult to write, so they took a lot of time, and therefore seemed longer. I feel like I'm drawing out the inevitable, and I probably am. I'm sorry!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1

When you woke up a few hours later, Bucky wasn’t back. You checked your phone. It was well past the time you’d planned on leaving to go Upstate, not that you were surprised. He’d text you, apologizing, telling you that Jade was too emotionally distraught to be left alone for the time being, but he promised to be back soon, and you’d still make your trip. You knew the promise was hollow. You didn’t believe he was sleeping with her, not really, but the situation was becoming untenable. You’d always said you would never try to control who he could or couldn’t be friends with, but you began to wonder if it was time for an ultimatum. The idea of imposing one sat poorly with you; it wasn’t the kind of girlfriend you wanted to be, but you felt he was leaving you no choice anymore. Every boundary you had asked him to keep with her, she’d somehow find a way to push him past.

He wasn’t blameless in the situation, you knew that. You knew he loved you, wanted to be with you, but how many chances could you give him to put you first, only to have him fail you? He wasn’t doing it on purpose; he was a genuinely good person who saw someone who had suffered as he had, and who wanted to provide support in a way that had been denied to him, but he was doing it at the expense of your relationship, your heart, your fucking sanity. He was taking you for granted, assuming that you’d always forgive him. And why wouldn’t he? You’d done it each and every time before.

You got up and got dressed, trying to find a use for your time so that you weren’t incessantly staring at the clock, waiting for Bucky to finally decide to make time for you. You suddenly remembered the request that Sam had made of you the night before– that you check the Tower’s systems to see if Jade had attempted to access anything that might set up red flags.

Grabbing your laptop, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a bagel and glass of juice before curling up on a chaise lounge in the common room and began working. It was going to be a time consuming task; the Tower’s systems were massive, but you’d built a good portion of them yourself, so it was a lot like wandering the forest in your own backyard.

Hours later, you were rubbing your eyes, regretting that you had left your glasses in your room. The sun was low in the sky, hovering just above the city skyline. Standing up to stretch, you cracked your neck and lower back before shooting off a text to Sam.

>>Just ran a check of the Tower systems for Jade’s footprint.

Ole Sammy: And???? Don’t leave me hangin in suspense, Baby Girl!

>> And, nothing screaming ENEMY AGENT.

>> She accessed Bucky’s unlocked files.

>> Like, a lot.

Ole Sammy: Creepy, but not surprising.

>> No, considering she’s fucking obsessed with him.

Ole Sammy: Unless…

>> Unless what, Samuel?

Ole Sammy: Nothing. Just a thought. Probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.

>> Stop being cryptic. Tell me.

Ole Sammy: Not unless I have proof to back it up. I don’t want to make accusations without evidence. Bitch’s scary AF. Besides, she could kick my ass.

>> Pretty sure I could kick your ass.

Ole Sammy: Only if I didn’t have my wings!

>> Not the flex you think it is.

Ole Sammy: How’s Upstate?

>> Wouldn’t know. Jade had a ‘panic attack’ in the night and has needed Bucky by her side ever since.

Ole Sammy: That dumb ass mother fucker! How much longer you gonna put up with this shit, Baby Girl?

>> I’ll talk to you later, Sam.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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xxoxobree · 1 year ago

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Miles’ Room

Miles G. x Fem!Black!Reader

Summary: Miles Fumbled His Perfect Girl.

WARNINGS: Aged Up , Cuss Words, Mentions of Alcohol.

A/n: Please don’t take the picture of the girl, it’s literally me and I feel like that’s weird 🤣🤣

I said I wasn’t going to post for a while but I lied 🙃😂. Hope you enjoy and run it up 🩷

Miles sat alone at the party, a mix of emotions and regret consuming him. It had been six months since he and you, the love of his life, had broken up. While he wanted to believe that it ended amicably, deep down, he knew it was his own distractions that had led to the end of your relationship. Losing you was the biggest mistake he had ever made.

Surrounded by people he didn't care for, Miles attempted to drown his thoughts in alcohol, hoping to forget about you. But with every drink, his mind only grew hazier, and your memory became the only thing he could focus on. He downed another shot, the burning sensation offering no comfort.

Desperate to fill the void you had left, Miles turned to his phone, scrolling through his messages. He contemplated reaching out to a few girls, hoping to pretend that one of them could replace the hole in his heart that only you could fill. Frustrated and intoxicated, he angrily switched off his phone.

The room began to spin as the alcohol took its toll, and the party, once a welcome distraction, now felt suffocating. Miles knew he didn't belong there; he should be at home with you, where he truly belonged.

In a moment of weakness, he reopened his phone, seeking a distraction in the void of social media. As he mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, a picture of you suddenly appeared on the screen. You looked beautiful, a smile lighting up your face. In that moment, it hit Miles he had lost something truly good.

The image of you, so happy without him, pierced his heart. It was a bitter reminder of what he had let slip through his fingers. The regret washed over him, leaving him feeling more alone than ever before.

Miles let out a sad sigh as he stared at the picture, resting his hand on his head. The only problem was, you were happy with another guy and not him. His mind started to race, do you think about him too? Or did he just need to move on like you did? He thought time would heal, but 6 months later, here he is, wishing to be the guy that got to treat you right.

He opened his contacts, scrolling, and stopping at your number. There was no chance that you still had the same number, right? He stared at the number, contemplating if he should call you or not. He had a whole lot to say. His finger hovered over the screen before the liquid courage took over, and the line was ringing.

"Hello?" You answered, sounding every bit as drunk as he was right now.

"Hey, you home?" Miles asked, the sound of your voice making a small smile spread across his face.

"Yeah, I just walked in. Wassup, Miles?" you replied.

"You good, ma?"

"Yeah, I'm good. How have you been?"

"I'm great now. Maybe we can link up?" he asked, hoping you'd say yes.

"Like tonight, right now?" you questioned.

"Yeah, mami. Is that alright? Did you go out?"

"Huh? Did I go out?" you repeated, a bit confused.

"Yeah, ma."

"Yeah, I went out, just to a couple of clubs. Did you say something about a drink? I'm soo gone right now," you laughed, making Miles laugh too.

But his laughter quickly faded. He paused for a moment, reluctant to tell you how he really feels before it all came out. "Look, mami, I'm so sorry. I know he's not around because you picked up. Fuck that nigga, you could do so much better."

You paused for a moment, being too drunk to actually know how to respond.

"You can do so much better, baby. Do you know that?" Miles said, almost pleading indirectly for you to break up with your boyfriend.

"Are you drunk right now, Miles?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

He was drunk, but that didn't matter. His feelings were the same.

"I'm just saying, Mami, and I hate that for you."

"Look, Miles. I have to go, okay? Take care of yourself," you said, hanging up, leaving him to stare at his phone and continue to miss you

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ddamm · 5 months ago

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‘Goodbye’ | What if Y/N died? - Daryl Dixon x reader - TWD imagine fic

(Image found in Pinterest, so, credits to rightful owner)

Warnings: angst definitely, death of a loved one, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, mild Daryl swearing, might cry so have some tissues at hand

Word counts: 1399 words (I think it´s the shortest I´ve done for now)

Era: at least after S3 Prison era, but no era in particular

A/N: Sincerely I'm not sure how or why I came up with this. I made a draft of this after my evening prayer session. I stayed on the ground for like half an hour after singing worship and crying and then this song came to me… and all I could picture was this very sad moment of the death of a loved one, and Daryl… Somehow I always end up crying when I listen to this song. It has something so emotional about it, something that feels like a goodbye… well, enjoy it and try not to cry haha.

Song: Je te laisserai des most - Patrick Watson

(listen during the whole thing over and over again 👍🏿)

Original banner (without the ‘goodbye’ phrase) from @kimjiho1, in this post

Daryl promised himself he would not shed more tears after Merle's death, but how would he not if she was now the one vanishing in his arms?

Y/N was the love of his life and had become his motive to live. But now, because of them, time was ticking for her, and she'd depart for somewhere he couldn't reach. Somewhere, he couldn't follow her.

Daryl cursed beneath his breath, angry at the situation before him and at the helplessness he felt. His face went pale in fright as he scanned the multiple bite and tear marks bleeding out over her torso and body.

“Shit, shit, shit… Huh… Y-ya dun have to worry, angel. I'll take ya to the doc and they'll… they'll fix ya up. We'll find a way,” he said, trying to stay positive and evading the cruel reality.

“Is everyone— safe?” Daryl's throat dried, and he found it difficult to speak, but he replied.

“Ye... Ye, everyone's… safe, thanks to ya,” he nodded his head slowly as he held Y/N close, parting her messy and scattered hair out of your face.

“I'm– sorry, Dar Dar… I'm always– giving you trouble, am I not?” Her breathing was difficult and slow, and this was scaring the man further as he tried to laugh out what she said.

“Ya ain't gotta be sorry 'bout nuthin', angel... C'mon, we gotta fix yer mess before ya start stinkin' like a skunk.” Daryl tried picking her up from the dusty ground, but she couldn't even feel your legs anymore.

He halted his actions when he felt her grasp on his shirt. Her trembling, blood-stained hand was holding onto him with the few strengths she had left. “I can't… this is it, Daryl,” she said, knowing it was too late for her, but he hushed her words.

“Dun say that. Yer gonna be jus' fine,” he insisted, wishing to remain in his delusion.

“Daryl, please... Take care of Allie...” she had solicited as her last wish.

“I can't.” “Yes, you can; I know you can.” “Y'all can do tha' when ya recover.” He kept bickering. “Dary, you're not liste—” “She's gonna need her mama, I ain't no good with 'em kids; she'll—”

“DARYL DIXON!” She exclaimed, making the man at her side hush.

“It has to be you. You're the—cough, cough, cough.” She spluttered blood over her chin, staining Daryl's face too. But he could only care about her, and with all the care in the world, he wiped her stained face for her.

Once she stabilised her breathing, she resumed. “You're the only one. The only one I can trust this to.” Daryl shook his head, going against her statement. “I-I can't... I wun be able to do tha' stuff on ma own... Being a parent, tha' stuff ain't somethin' someone fucked up like me can do.” His hands trembled in hers while he explained his twisted reasoning on why he wasn't the right person to fulfil her last request, taking care of her baby.

“Daryl, you won't be alone... You've got Rick, Michonne, Carol—” “Ain't the same damn thing,” he replied with a stern, upset voice.

Just a few weeks ago, you successfully gave birth to your precious daughter, Alison, and now, you were vanishing in his arms? Daryl couldn't accept it.

“Yer... different. Different from 'em, different from all, dammit,” he cursed under his breath, frustrated about not being able to word out how he felt about her.

“Yer... ma damn reason to survive! I can't— I can't do nothin' without ya. She needs ya here; she needs her mama. What in tarnation am I gonna tell her when she's old enough to bother my ass with questions 'bout her old hag?” He questioned her with a hint of dread. “You tell her the truth.” “That I let her mama get killed 'cause I was dilly-dallyin' too dang long?” he pressed on a little aggressively.

“Daryl.” She called his name with a serious stare, not liking that he was already blaming himself, but her gaze softened when she saw the look on his face. “I've lost too much stuff, too many folks... I can't lose ya too; I... I need ya, Y/N...”

She quieted down for a while as thoughts invaded her mind, and Y/N felt bad for passing on her role, her responsibility to Daryl as a burden on his shoulders.

He always took care of her (in his own Dixon way). Back in the quarry camp, Daryl had defended her and her late husband many times (more like her) when Shane and Carol's husband crossed the line. She still remembers how his arrow saved her, just in time, from getting bitten by a walker the night before they left.

She remembered how he had comforted her (tried) after the CDC Lab incident and even when they discovered what happened to Sofia. He was the most upset about that, yet he still came to apologise to her too for not trying well enough, because he knew Sofia and she had a great relationship (just like you and Carol).

Now that she thought of it, the number of times Daryl silently protected, shielded, or cared for her without her full acknowledgement was overwhelming. He had constantly been there for her for so long, always stepping in to save or defend her, even before her husband turned. He became twice as protective of her when he learned there was a new life growing inside her.

All that evidence... Yet she continued to deny any attraction to the lone archer, even if deep down she knew exactly what she felt. Her late husband was long lost and gone, but why could she never seem to leave the sense of guilt away? Why did she feel it was wrong to correspond to Daryl's ways of affection?

If she could have, she would have sighed, pitting herself and her way of disrespecting him and his feelings. But nothing can be done now.

“I know you are afraid... Afraid of parenting alone... Afraid of hurting her... But Daryl, that girl adores you already... Even just as a baby, you're the only person she doesn't cry with besides me. The only one I could leave her with when I needed to rest.”

Y/N stretched her weakened hand to meet his cheek, gently caressing his skin, and he placed his on top of hers as his tears and sniffs became more prominent.

“I'm sorry, I can't stay... I have to rest forever now,” she chuckled, trying to ease him, but seeing her faking strength only hurt him more. “You are awesome, Daryl. The fact that you always took care of me proves it. And she knows that you cared for her mama and that you'll do the same for her. That's why she smiles the most when you're around.”

His sobs became more audible. Your words of support and cheering burned in his skin like fire on a wood chunk. And he looked away in shame, not wanting your last vision of him to be his pathetic sadness, proof of his inner weakness.

“Can you, please, care for her while I'm gone?” She asked him one last time. Despite his sorrow, he nodded in silence, granting her peace of mind, as she knew she didn't have to worry no more.

“Thank you, Dar Dar...” “No need for tha', angel.” She assented, agreeing with his comment. She sought his gaze, wishing to speak her mind but found herself troubled, struggling to find the right terms and considering twice whether to fully express them before she eventually resolved to say her final words to him.

“Oh, and Daryl?” He hummed, asking what she wanted. “I love you,” she professed. And that was his breaking point.

His heart was filled with regret for not being there in time, for not staying by her side, for not being truthful with his feelings and telling her how much she meant to him whenever he could...

“I... I love ya too, Y/N,” he replied, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

A final smile came to her lips as her eyes closed and her hand dropped to her side, signifying the end.

Daryl held her body against his, weeping the death of his beloved, as the third time someone he cared for died in his presence, without him being able to stop it.

“Goodbye, angel...”

star divider found in @anitalenia pink dividers post

A/N: So, here comes this that I had been planning for some time but never found enough time to finish (my laptop wasn't cooperating). I don't really have much to say about it but I think I don't like it as much. Maybe I need to re-listen to the song to see if I feel the same way as when I wrote down the idea but idk, it doesn't look good (not satisfied with the ending).

But anws, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

Take care and God bless!~

𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

support divider from @cafekitsune, in this post

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moni-logues · 11 months ago

Text

Kintsugi 15

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 6.8k

Content: references to self-harm, description of self-harm scars, some chat about self-harm; oral sex (m. and f. receiving), fingering, protected sex

A/N: I said I'd make it clear, so let's do that: IT'S THE END! THE FINAL ONE!! THE LAST CHAPTER! IT'S DONE!!! IT'S FINISHED!!! NO MORE!!! NO MAS!!!! FINIT!!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!!

I was so relieved to finish this yesterday and thought I would be glad more than anything to post this and finally (FINALLY!!!) bring the series to a close, but I honestly do also feel kind of sad it's over. We've been together over a year now, these characters and me; I've been actually writing them for a year but they first popped into my head 18 months ago. And now we're at the end.

Huge thank you to everyone who has beta'd for me, inc. for this chapter @quarter-life-crisis2 and @here2bbtstrash, @minttangerines, @blog-name-idk, and Amethyst

Thank you to everyone who has left comments and come along on this journey with me; it has meant SO much to me to have your investment in and enthusiasm for this story. It has made it so rewarding to tell and I hope you like their ending.

Without further ado...

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Chapter Fifteen - Spring

You rested your head gently against the window, watching the people come and go. The cherry blossoms had fallen already, gathered in gutters and collected in corners. You were always sad to see them go, but this year, you felt like they had given you something. Summer, of course, as always: the heat, the sun, the long days, the blessed relief of an ice-cold drink and even colder air-conditioning. This year, the cherry blossoms had brought you something else. Truly like confetti, they had blown around you, whirled around you, celebrating your first week of From Now On.

You didn’t say that you were getting ahead of yourself. Not this time. Because you weren’t that anxious about it, as much as that surprised you. You had all the anticipation of your first day at school with none of the nerves. The cherry blossoms had gone but they hadn’t left a hole; you couldn’t feel their absence because your life felt abundant. Last year, when you had watched them bloom and fall and fade away, you had been empty. All the joy they usually brought you couldn’t touch the sides of your despair. It hurt more to see them ushering in spring when you felt stranded alone in winter. But now you weren’t alone. Not even close.

It was a fairly mild day, just the cool side of hot, and still. You had been impatient and got ready early, hence the sitting and staring. Yoongi wasn’t due for another five minutes, but you’d been there for twenty already. You imagined you might see him on his approach to your building and get to observe him, unnoticed. You wondered what he was doing right now – driving? In a taxi? On the subway? Was he already on his feet, close to you? Was he nervous? You thought he would be. His shyness recently reminded you of when you first met, those tentative overtures of friendship, the thrill you felt when he opened himself up to you.

It was not unlike the thrill you felt now, waiting for him to pick you up for your very first date.

When he was due in no less than two minutes, you stood and moved to your mirror. You had, initially, planned to wear something that you considered sexier – that is to say, more form-fitting, a little more scandalous, a dress that showed off a little more of what your mother gave you – and then you changed your mind. You didn’t need to do that, because Yoongi already knew. He had already seen what lay beneath and it was all for him now anyway. So you dressed a little more comfortably, in a dress with a little more give, a little more fabric and flounce. You looked cute; you wanted Yoongi to think you looked cute.

Then, as you always did, you heard his footsteps.

“Babe!” you cried, leaning out of your door to see him coming from the end of the corridor.

But you almost didn’t manage to say anything at all because, whilst you had expected Yoongi, you hadn’t expected Yoongi in a suit, holding flowers. It stopped you short; you had been about to run out to him, jump into his arms, do something silly. Instead, you were flustered, grinning at him from your doorway, your heart going like the clappers and your blood roaring in your ears because god-fucking-damn, had he always been that handsome?

“No!” he called back. “Go back inside! What are you doing?”

What were you doing? Short-circuiting, a little. His hair was still long and you imagined it twisted between your fingers, soft and pullable; he was smiling, even as he scolded you, all his little teeth on display. You had always liked a man in a suit – you must have said it a thousand times – but you had not been prepared for how much you liked this man in a suit. You were going to have to get some kind of grip if you were going to make it through dinner.

“I’m saying hello!” you called back, a little too loudly now that he was closer. “I was going to run out to meet you!”

“Get back inside! I’m supposed to be picking you up! I need to knock on your door!”

Truthfully, Yoongi would have loved to have you run out of your apartment and into his arms, even if he’d tumbled, you’d stumbled, you’d both fallen to the floor in a bumped, bruised heap. He’d have loved to have thrown all caution to the wind and run away with you. But all of that was still overwhelming, far too much good for a boy who still thought he was bad, and there was a process to be followed, procedure. He was clinging to that. Like a life raft.

Yoongi had practised. In as much as you can practise speaking to a friend without actually speaking to them. He had forgotten, in all his anxiety about dating you, about being with you, being seen by you, that you were his friend. He’d had these feelings for you from the very beginning and they had never paralysed him like he felt they were now. He knew sex was not the (only) answer, that sooner or later, he was going to have to remember how to act around you. So he called each of his friends in turn to hang out with them, to remind himself, firstly, that he had them, that he was likable; secondly, that he enjoyed their company—he enjoyed company in general, more than he would ever let on; thirdly, that he could be good company: he got a laugh out of every one of them. That had to count for something.

And he bought you flowers. Because they would provide a good distraction in case all of these remembrances fell out of his head the second he saw you. And because he wanted to, because that’s what you should do when you take someone out on a date. He knew you liked tulips and it was tulip season. It felt right. And it released a little of his impulse to shower you with things, to buy things for you and haemorrhage cash to make him seem worth it.

For the longest time, money had been all he had. He had laughed out loud in his therapist’s office when he said that because, for the longest time, money was all he didn’t have. The not-having of money was the very thing that defined his life and set him on this path; it was the bedrock beneath the biggest of his life’s decisions. And then it became all he had. All he had to offer. He was still learning that maybe there were other things, too.

You did as you were told and shut the door, palms pressed against it as you listened to your heart and tried to make it slow. Then you waited six seconds until you heard his first knock.

“Oh my god, hi!” you exclaimed. “I had no idea you were here!”

Yoongi pretended he wasn’t grinning and shot you a look.

“Shut up,” he replied. “I bought you these.”

Tulips. Your favourite flower. You didn't remember ever telling Yoongi that, but maybe he just knew. They were another reason that April was your favourite time of year. Seoul Forest was full of them, hundreds, thousands of them blanketing the banks. There was a rainbow of colour in every direction; tall heads on sturdy stems barely touched by breezes, swaying like a choir. It was like a pilgrimage; you went every year. Maybe this year, you would take Yoongi.

“They’re beautiful, thank you.”

You took them from him, not bothering to try to restrain your smile from splitting your face in half, and leant in to kiss him. Then you stopped.

“Are we allowed to kiss?” you asked, one inch from his face. Then you moved away and started looking in cupboards for a vase you weren’t sure you owned.

Yoongi looked confused.

“Y’know, kissing on a first date?”

He still looked confused. Then you remembered. You laughed.

“Oh, of course, that’s right. You’re Mr Fucks on a First Date, aren’t you?”

You expected him to be surprised; you hoped he would be a little flustered, hoped you would get to see that pink creep onto his cheeks in a way that was just too cute. Instead, he grinned and you felt your own cheeks heat.

“Is that a promise?” he asked and your stomach swooped.

You had found a vase, tipped flower food into it, and were gently arranging the stems. You abandoned them in favour of moving closer him, then a little closer, slowly closer, until your lips were almost on his.

“Cheeky,” you muttered, eyes flicking down to his lips, amaranth pink and just a little pouty. You bit your own.

Yoongi hummed.

“So is that a yes?”

“Only if you play your cards right.”

You dragged your eyes up and slowly pressed a kiss to his mouth. His hands settled on your hips and you couldn’t stop yours from reaching up, tangling one in his hair, using the other to rake through the dark locks you hoped he never cut. It wasn’t exactly the kind of grip you needed to get, but every atom of your body was asking for more. It was intoxicating to be kissed by him.

It was Yoongi who broke from you (you did not have the same level of restraint), his mouth lifting in a grin as he nodded his head slightly towards the counter, where your tulips stood in their vase.

“Did I mention I got you flowers?”

“You might need to tell me one more time.”

You weren’t nervous. Not at all. On the one hand, you felt like you should be, because it was Yoongi and this felt enormous. When you stood back and looked at it, it was huge. He was one of your two (2) friends in this world and you were ruining your friendship good and proper. You could still remember the sharp-toothed despair that wound around you like a strait-jacket after what happened with Sungbin; you remembered the suffocating heartbreak of San leaving you. You knew that it could happen here. There wasn’t a guarantee that Yoongi was The One, that you were The One for Yoongi. It should have scared you.

But it didn’t. It was too hard to be anxious sitting across from him at dinner, as if you hadn’t sat and done this very thing with him dozens of times before. It was impossible to worry about whether or not he liked you when he looked at you like that, when he smiled in that way that you had always suspected was just for you. You knew he liked you because he was here. He had asked for this date and bought you flowers and he was laughing and teasing and being exactly the person you knew him to be. That didn’t make you nervous.

Yoongi had picked the restaurant carefully. Not too fancy, not too quiet, not too busy, not too empty, not too casual. He had spent a great many hours trawling the internet for reviews and photos and listings. He wasn’t usually this obsessive, but so much about it all had felt out of his control and this was in it. So he was going to get it right.

Sitting across from you, he knew he needn’t have bothered. Because he knew you didn’t really care. He wasn’t even sure, sometimes, if you knew what you were eating, because you barely stopped talking to shove it in. You spoke around the food in your mouth and whirled your chopsticks around as you gestured. You picked things off his plate and dropped pieces of your own food onto it. You had this way of creating a world around yourself, such that he forgot where he was; he forgot there was anyone else around, anything else to think about. And he realised he could have taken you anywhere and it would have been just exactly this good. Because it was you.

“Do you want to go for a drink or something? I looked up a couple of bars not far from here,” Yoongi said as he led you, your hand in his, from the restaurant.

You leant up against him, shook your head and pouted.

“No?”

You shook your head again.

“Ice-cream?”

Not that either.

“Ok... Do you want to go home?”

“Yes, please.”

Yoongi seemed surprised and you saw his eyes dim and realised—too slowly, clumsily for too much wine—that you had not exactly said what you meant.

“I want to go home with you, please,” you clarified, still pouting up at him.

“Oh.”

It took Yoongi a couple of seconds to recalibrate, then he smiled down at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Miss Fucks on a First Date, is it?”

You punched him playfully in the arm and he didn’t bother to act like it hurt.

“Do you want a drink?” Yoongi offered as you slipped off your shoes inside his apartment.

You shrugged. You would have one if he wanted, but you didn’t need one. You felt lush and warm and relaxed enough already. And truthfully, you were at home now, in the privacy of his apartment; you didn’t want to waste a minute with your mouth on anything that wasn’t him.

You kissed him, soft at first, because you did want to fuck on your first date, but you weren’t an animal; you had some patience. Or, that’s what you thought as you pressed your lips against his, but the thought washed away like writing on the sand as soon as you tasted him. All your impatience, all your greed, all your excitement came rushing forward, into the fray, a tsunami of feeling, all good, all for him, all surging through you like a stampede.

“I never,” you started, interrupting yourself with another kiss, one more. “I never want to stop kissing you.”

“Then don’t.”

You moaned into his mouth and pressed your body against his, suddenly too warm, hot, the fabric of your dress burning where it brushed your skin. You pushed Yoongi’s jacket off his shoulders and pulled at the knot of his tie. He laughed against your lips and pulled back.

“You know you’re just making it tighter?”

You whined and let him take over, deftly undoing the damage you’d done and loosening it properly, pulling it through the collar of his shirt and dropping it on the floor. You thought that was quite long enough to not be kissing, to not be held so tight against him, you could practically feel his heartbeat in your chest, but he held you back.

When he started walking away from you, you rushed after him, grabbing his hand as he opened his bedroom door.

“Cherry?” he called softly, padding over to the bed, where she was curled up on the pillow. “You have to get the fuck out of here, ok?”

She ‘mrowed’ at him and rolled onto her back, exposing her exquisitely soft underbelly for strokes, purring when Yoongi put his hand on her. You thought to yourself that you would quite like to be the one purring under his touch, but had to accept that being jealous of a cat was insane, even for you.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly, lifting her up and walking away from you yet again, taking her out to the living room and placing her on the sofa.

“You mean you don’t even give her a free show?” you asked when he returned to the bedroom.

Yoongi’s face flattened and he looked at you, pretending not to be amused.

“Would you like to fuck in front of my cat?”

You jumped up and skipped over to him with a giggle.

“No, thank you!”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and wasted no time reconnecting your mouths. Yoongi, now the cat was out of the room and the door firmly shut, seemed as impatient as you were, his hands sliding under the skirt of your dress and up, slipping beneath your underwear and squeezing at your backside. His mouth moved to your jaw and then your neck, sucking soft kisses into your skin, holding you firmly close to him.

You were impatient because you wanted more, more, and even more of him and you wanted it now. But you also wanted each moment to last. Every time his lips met your skin, they felt softer; every time his tongue rolled over yours, he tasted sweeter; every time his hands squeezed, you felt your heart race a little faster. You wanted him immediately and you also wanted it to last forever. You couldn’t get enough of him.

He moved his hands upwards, outside your dress, and made light work of the buttons at the back that had honestly taken you forever to do up by yourself. You hummed.

“You’re good at that.”

“Hm?”

“Good with your fingers.”

He chuckled and flicked you lightly with one hand whilst his other freed a button from its clasp.

“Is that right?”

“Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant.”

You shivered, even in the warm room, in the bright light of the sun streaming in through the window, when he pulled your dress off and you let it pool on the floor. You didn’t have time to be self-conscious, even if you might have otherwise, because Yoongi was on you, pushing you towards the bed until you were flat on your back, his mouth exploring your body as if he’d forgotten every inch of it in the last week. He hooked his fingers around your underwear and tugged down; you shuffled in response, lifting your hips and wriggling out of it in a way that was less than dignified, and less than efficient, but you didn’t want Yoongi to move off you, didn’t want to sit and then stand so you could do the job properly.

Naked, again, beneath Yoongi, fully-clothed, you held tight to his shirt collar and hoped he would let you know what he wanted. You wanted to let him lead.

And lead he did. He pulled one of your hands to his shirt buttons and you experimentally popped one open. He led your hand to the next one. You worked your way to the bottom, pulling the ends from his trousers, kissing him: his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He wouldn’t look at you and you could see the red on his ears; if you pressed your hand against his chest, you could feel the thump of his heart like a hammer.

“Baby,” you whispered as you slowly slid your hands under his shirt, his body warm against them, soft, not smooth.

He gave no reply and you nudged him gently with your nose.

“Baby, look at me.”

It took seconds that felt like minutes before his eyes met yours. They were guarded, unsure, a little bit afraid. You kissed his lips and smiled.

“We can stop here,” you reminded him but he shook his head.

“Go on.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded but his eyes were elsewhere again.

You pushed your hands along his chest, around his shoulders, forcing the shirt to fall to the bed. You let your hands see him first, your lips still employed on his neck. He was soft and warm and the dip of his spine slightly damp with sweat. You felt them before you saw them, laddering down his arms, criss-crossing his chest, a handful near his hip that were rough and scabbed, still healing.

It hadn’t occurred to you until that moment that you had never seen Yoongi in a T-shirt. That he always wore long sleeves. You hadn’t noticed. Now you knew why.

Yoongi’s face was pink now, a little pained, uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Yoongi wanted to burst into flames and drown himself both at once. He didn’t dare open his eyes because he knew he’d not be able to see for tears. He was holding his breath, waiting for something he desperately didn’t want to happen, even though it always had. The shock, the disgust, the reluctance, the holding at arm’s length.

You took his hand and kissed his palm, kissed the single, thick, raised scar on his wrist and all the smaller ones that followed. You turned him around, guiding him gently so he lay against the headboard, so you could kiss him all over, each and every one of them.

“Babe,” you called to him, crawling up his body until you hovered over him, resting on your hands.

Then you lowered yourself on top of him, skin to skin, and stroked through his hair.

“Hey,” you tried again and Yoongi nodded slightly.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you ok?”

He nodded again.

“Gonna look at me and say that?”

When he looked at you, it was a Yoongi you had never seen before. Shy and defeated and embarrassed and sad and there was something hurt in his eyes that almost made you angry – because no one was allowed to hurt him. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

You kissed him once and then again and he cleared his throat lightly.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Yoongi...”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Some of the hesitation in his face left him then and he looked at you.

“Have you changed your mind?”

It was a little defensive, the barest hint of a challenge in his voice.

“No,” you answered. “Why would I have changed my mind?”

He looked away again, not answering, though you didn’t need him to. You both knew. But that would never have changed your mind. He could have been covered in slime or secretly a lizard-person and you’d have been just as soft for him as you were now.

Though you were glad that he was neither.

“It doesn’t bother me,” you continued. “Well, it does--” You noticed the clench of his jaw-- “because I know what it takes to do it...” You traced your finger lightly over the scars on his arm. “I know exactly how it feels and I hate that you know, too. I wish I could take it all away from you. So that bothers me. Because I don’t ever want you to feel like it’s something you have to do.

“But-” you pushed yourself up a little, sitting on his lap and pressing your hands to his chest- “actually, also, they’re proof you’re still here, y’know?” Your hand circled his wrist and you pressed your thumb against the worst scar there. “You might not have been. Any one of these could have been the last one, right? But they weren’t. It’s like... every time you do it, it’s a little bit of effort towards staying alive because there’s something worse you could do but you’re not doing that. So it’s proof. Proof that you’re here and trying and you’ve been trying and I, for one, am very glad you are still here. More than glad.”

He didn’t reply. You shrugged.

“And you’ve seen mine. My body is not exactly unscathed.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your body.” His voice was stronger, more like his own.

“And there’s nothing wrong with yours.��

Yoongi had to get out from underneath you, had to stop you looking at him, at least for a moment. He knew that it had to happen, that you had to know, but this was too much. Too much of what he didn’t want and not enough of what he did. He didn’t want to talk about it or think about it. His chest was tight and he felt unsteady and he so badly just wanted to get back to you: you, naked in this bed, with him.

He sat up and his arms came around you and you relished the feeling of your skin on his, nothing but warmth between you. He kissed you, insistent this time, impatient again. He wanted you on his tongue, in his hands, enveloping him. He wanted to serve himself up on a plate for you, kneel and kiss your feet; he wanted to lose himself completely in the sound of you coming undone.

You shuffled off him and fumbled at his belt, at his zip, pushing them to the floor. You barely noticed the skin there, that was really more scar than skin; you didn’t see the light lines and the dark ones, crossing and re-crossing, thickening, fading, all over. Because it didn’t matter to you. That he wasn’t fresh out of the box, perfect and unblemished. No one was. And you shared a pain; the pain that led to these blemishes, these marks, these scars, it was yours, too.

So you didn’t see them as they were un-covered, as he stepped out of his clothes, as you took his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy, you pumped slowly, but Yoongi had other ideas.

He lay you on the bed and spread your thighs, trailing kisses up one side and down the other. You shivered when his hot breath hit your core and again when his mouth met your lips, his tongue licking through your folds. The pleasure felt brand new as he drank you in and you felt the exact right amount of drunk.

If you’d been sober, this would have been too quick; you’d have been too easy, too alert. It would all have been over too soon. But the alcohol blurred the edges, dulled your senses just enough to allow you to luxuriate in it: the soft, wet pad of his tongue brushing over your clit, then hard as it pushed inside you; the press of his kiss-plump lips, their seal as he sucked at your swollen bud. Like swimming through champagne, everything was fizzing and golden.

The sun hit Yoongi’s head, so bright it made his black hair brown and it shone. You tangled a fist in it, pulling his mouth closer, tipping your hips and he flicked his eyes towards you. They were deep and glazed and only half-open, his tongue still pressed against you. You whined and rolled your hips, then did it again and he let you rut against his mouth until all your pleasure was coiling tight, down into a heavy ball in your core.

Then he pulled back and shifted his weight, lifting a hand from your hip.

“Good with my fingers, right?” he said, a lopsided grin on his face, mouth sticky and shining.

“Y-e...eess.”

You answer was punctuated with the slip of those fingers inside you, and your breath hitched by the curling of those fingers, the pressing of them against your front wall. Yoongi lowered himself again and put his mouth back around your clit, the suction hard and sure. You were squirming now, all your muscles tightening, everything drawing down, deep into your core before bursting forward in a wet rush of heat.

You sighed as your limbs flopped against the mattress and your chest heaved. Yoongi wiped his mouth and knelt back, similarly breathless. He took a hand to his cock and squeezed lightly at the base, hissing slightly as he did.

You slithered off the bed, to your knees, and tapped Yoongi’s knee, asking him to turn towards you, reaching for him, for his dark, heavy cock, your mouth growing wet at the mere thought of it.

Yoongi looked hesitant.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

You tipped your head to the side and frowned.

“But... I want to, though?”

He hesitated a second longer and you thought he was going to say no, but he turned and you did nothing to hide your enthusiasm. You pressed a kiss to the tip and let your tongue lick at the pre-cum dripping from it. Yoongi grunted and you grinned because it had actually been a long time since you’d had this kind of fun.

It had been a long time for Yoongi, too, since he’d had his dick in anyone’s mouth. He couldn’t even remember the last time. He’d forgotten the heat of it, the softness and strength of a tongue, the looking down at them looking up. It was frankly criminal, he thought, that you could be so cute with a cock in your mouth. It was every bit as good as he might have dreamt, as hot and wet as he might have imagined. You pushed forward and he could feel the back of your throat, see the tears sparkling in your eyes, caught on your lashes.

He had to stop looking. He tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. He clenched his fists and tried to slow his breathing down because, god, it had been so long and it was you. It was you and you had kissed him all over and you were looking up at him with wet stars in your eyes and your mouth was doing all that to him and he closed his eyes. Then you moaned with the tip of his cock at the very back of your mouth and he almost lost all control.

He swore, his throat tight, his thighs twitching. He placed a hand on your head and pushed back your hair, tugging ever so slightly to pull you off him. You wiped your mouth and grinned up at him; it was such a sweet, filthy gesture that he almost came again.

“You ok?” you asked and Yoongi fell to his knees. He answered with a kiss, licking into your mouth, pulling you against him.

“Yes,” he answered, mumbled against your lips. “Want to fuck you now.”

“Yes, please.”

And it was everything you had wanted. Everything you had forgotten sex could be. Yoongi held you close and fucked you slow and you kissed him and caressed him and the world could have fallen apart outside and you would neither have noticed nor cared.

There was something tearing inside Yoongi and he didn’t know what to do about it. Because you were holding him tight, pulling him so close to you, kissing him and moaning into his mouth and no one had wanted him this close, this soft, this slow for a long time. Ever. He had tried to pace himself before, tried not to rush through it but it was a blur to him now, the frenzy and the nerves and the uncertainty of it all rendering it choppy and indistinct. Whereas this was full high-definition. This, you, the way you touched him and looked at him, the way you said his name... it was like a dream. Like something he never thought he would have. The luxury of your warm body so close to his; the indulgence of your lips against his and your eyes sparkling like you had never seen a sweeter sight than him. That you wanted him. That you wanted him and let him know it. That you wanted all of him, as you ran your hands down his arms, as you squeezed at his chest and pressed your hand against his back, pulling him closer.

Because it wasn’t just physical. It wasn’t just the thrust of Yoongi’s hips, his cock buried deep in your wet cunt; it wasn’t just the slap and slick of damp skin and arousal; it wasn’t just the pleasure you felt in your core expanding outwards, the heat in your blood, and tingling in your toes. It was all-encompassing; it was everything. It was this person who knew you, all the bad bits as well as the good, knew you and saw you and held you like you were precious. It was feeling safe and cherished and valued. It was knowing that your feelings were reflected, returned, reciprocated. It was the sweetness of finding someone who lit you up and being able to light them up the same way.

When you lay, side by side, spent and sated, you felt like you were glowing. You rolled onto your side, into Yoongi, as he rolled into you and you kissed him again, for the hundredth time or thousandth, it still wasn’t enough.

You slept soundly, without dreaming, without waking, until the sun was high in the sky again the following morning. You turned onto your back, throwing an arm behind you as you went, expecting it to hit Yoongi next to you.

But he wasn’t there. You rubbed your face and pushed yourself into a seated position, assuming he was in the bathroom and would return momentarily.

Then minutes passed and he was nowhere to be seen. You stood and scanned the floor for your underwear. Your dress was already picked up and placed over the back of a chair; Yoongi’s clothes, you could only assume, he had put in the laundry already. Your underwear was not hiding under your dress. You dropped to the floor and onto your hands and knees, to look down under the bed.

“Aha!”

“Aha, what?”

You hit your hand on the bedframe as you quickly pulled it back and span to face Yoongi, standing in the door with an iced coffee in each hand and a paper bag hanging from his wrist. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, bemused but charmed.

You twirled your knickers on one finger.

“Thought I’d lost them. They were under the bed.”

Yoongi merely ‘ah’ed and nodded, placing breakfast on the dressing table and swapping his jeans for light pyjama trousers.

“Did you bring me coffee?” you asked sweetly, knowing the answer.

“And pastries.”

You jumped to your feet and gratefully accepted his offerings, taking a long draw from the straw of a coffee so sweet and milky it might as well not be coffee anymore.

“Do you know how much sugar is in those, by the way?”

“Yep! That’s why they’re so delicious!”

“They’ll kill you.”

You shrugged.

“Oh well. I died doing what I loved: drinking sugary coffee.”

Yoongi chuckled and stepped forward until you were within arm's reach. You could feel his hesitation, so you took it from him, stepping into his body and offering him a kiss.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to get back into bed?”

You couldn’t imagine anything you wanted more.

You could hear something out in the hall, something maybe like a cat’s purr, but also not a cat’s purr. Some sort of buzzing, intermittent enough that you told yourself you were imagining it at first. But it just kept coming.

“Do you hear that?” you interrupted Yoongi to ask and you held your hand up for silence as you listened for it.

A jarring, quiet kind of noise.

“Sounds like a phone vibrating,” Yoongi offered.

“Oh fuck!”

You scrambled, ungracefully, out of bed, still in just your knickers, and found your phone, buzzing against your keys, half falling out of your bag.

Taehyung.

“Hi, baby!” you greeted, overly cheerful because you hadn’t checked the time and you were almost certain he was calling because you were late.

You had planned to have brunch and a debrief. You had forgotten all about it.

“When are you coming home? I’m bored.”

You pulled your phone away from your ear and, upon noting the time, realised that you weren’t late at all. Not even close.

“What do you want, Teddy? I’m seeing you later.”

“I know, but I’m bored now and you’re a dirty, little stop-out.”

“Entertain yourself! I’ll be home when I’m home. I'm not leaving now just because you’re bored.”

He sighed dramatically at the other end of the line.

“So I suppose it’s love, then, is it?”

The word made your heart skip a beat and you didn’t turn around, just in case Yoongi was looking at you.

“Maybe.”

“You sicken me.”

“Fuck off. You’re happy for me.”

“Yes, I am, babygirl. I’m very happy for you but I’m also very lonely and bored. Can’t you just come home a bit early? Yoongi will still be there tomorrow but I am fading away by the second.”

“Dying from lack of attention?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll be home when I’m home, Teddybear. Try to make it until then.”

“Alright, but you’ll be sorry when I'm gone.”

“Extremely. Now leave me alone!”

He heaved another dramatic sigh before hanging up and you skipped back to the bedroom.

“Everything ok?” Yoongi asked as you settled back in his arms.

“Teddy’s being needy.”

“Do you need to go?”

“Absolutely not!” You snuggled in tighter and pressed your lips to his chest. “Not until the very last minute, please.”

Love. You thought about the word when you left Yoongi’s apartment very late that morning. You wanted to say it then and there, tell him, but it felt like a lot. It felt like your usual Too Muchness coming back. You had only been on one date. It was a lot of pressure to put on a person and you didn’t want to pressure Yoongi. You didn’t want to push him. You didn’t want to take control and careen this fledging thing straight into a ravine.

It felt natural. It felt easy. It felt like everything you had wanted. It felt so right that it was maddening to you that it had taken you so long to see it. But you also understood that that had to happen. The time it took you to see Yoongi like you did now was time you spent getting things wrong and hurting and healing the wrong way and then the right way and you knew that this, this happiness you had that made you glow, that made your steps feel light, it was a result of that time, that patience. So you didn’t want to rush. Didn't want to push. You would still love him tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that and on and on and on. It could wait.

Until six days later, when you were sitting on the subway on your way home from work and you snapped. You didn’t want it to wait. You wanted to tell him. And you knew you could. You could say it and he could not and you would survive that. You would understand. And it wouldn’t matter because you knew he was in this, knew he would get there if he wasn’t there already. You chided yourself for waiting at all, because love should never have to wait. Love should be shouted from the rooftops, shouldn’t it?

So you got off at a different stop and changed lines and you walked as fast as you could to Yoongi’s building and you let yourself in.

“Babe!” you cried as you hastily kicked off your shoes and rounded the corner into the kitchen, a little out of breath.

“Are you ok?”

Yoongi had his apron on, a knife in his hands, vegetables on the chopping board in front of him and it was so sweet, so domestic, a perfect vision of everything you wanted. He was looking at you with concern, as well he might, given you had just burst in, unannounced, in all kinds of a fluster.

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you panted. “I just had to tell you. I love you.” You moved closer to him; he put the knife down and wiped his hands on his apron and you held tight to it. “I love you. As in, I am in love with you. I love you so much. And I know, I know, it’s been no time at all and it’s too soon and it’s too quick and you don’t have to say it and I don’t want to put any pressure on but I just want to tell you. I have wanted to tell you and I wasn’t going to because- because all of the above! But I love you and I want you to know that I love you. I’m in love with you, Min Yoongi.”

He blinked a little and then a bit more.

“Oh.”

He sounded surprised and you laughed because you were nervous and because you felt giddy and silly and so in fucking love. You tugged him closer with his apron and kissed him, firmly at first, then softer when he kissed you back and rested his hands on your hips.

“I love you.”

He said it quietly, his mouth still close enough to yours that you could feel his lips move with the words. You laughed again and kissed him again and whispered it back to him.

“I love you.”

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Taglist: @chimmisbae, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld, @tarahardcore, @simp47koreancrackheads, @xyahrinx, @olyd, @diorh0seokie, @thelilbutifulthings, @acquiescence804

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fluff #bts fluff

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yorshie · 1 year ago

Text

Burnt Out

Bayverse Leo x Fem reader - Part 1

Part two

summary: SFW, After confessing your feelings for the Leader in Blue, he makes a decision that challenges your relationship with all four turtles. (warnings for relationship based arguments, yelling, and an altercation with some drunken men) set in 2023 so turtles are 24-25

You paused on the stoop to the employee’s entrance, hand dipping automatically to palm your phone in your coat’s pocket. It was dark, far darker than you expected. You gave yourself a little shake at the instinctual hesitation, annoyed that you didn’t factor in how fast night fell in the winter before taking this last-second shift.

But you needed the money, and walking at night had never been a problem before… well, before you could always count on someone waiting for you, because you always let someone know your schedule. But now-

You huffed, annoyance seeping deeper as you weighed your options.

You didn’t necessarily feel unsafe, walking home at night but…

Maybe it was always hearing about the crimes being committed and thwarted through your friends’ grapevine, but something about being alone seemed a little more ominous tonight.

You pulled out your phone, tapped the device awake, and pondered the short list of contacts on your favorited screen.

April was working. Casey was on an away trip, training for his new promotion. Vern was-

Vern was a no go.

You were stalling. You knew you were, but you still grimaced, bit your lip as you read over the last four names. They should’ve been your first choice, would have been your first choice, if things didn’t still feel stilted whenever you thought about him.

You purposefully skipped over the first name. Shuddered away from the echo of shame and the low pang of sadness that came with the memory of your last conversation, and went stubbornly to the next option.

Donnie was probably working on the shell-raiser. Last time you’d called Raph, he’d been in the background while the red brother had been tinkering with his motorcycle. You could clearly recall not only his excitement, but the non-stop barrage of information he was dumping into the conversation he’d butted into, ecstatic about some new fangled what-cha-ma-call-its and doo-hickey-ma-things that he was apparently installing.

So, no on the Donatello front.

Raphael was in the ha’shi, which meant no phones. He’d taken the time to let you know at least, earlier in the day, and while you had hinted for a reason why, he kept whatever he’d done silent. Getting sent to the ha’shi wasn’t new, but it was odd that only one brother was being punished, and usually Raph would at least give you an overview on who was to blame for the sentence.

Which left Mikey. You knew he would make time for you, he always did, but it still felt like running away. Still felt like you were creating- being- a problem. Your finger hovered over his name, letting your lip escape your teeth before you breathed out and hit the button.

It rang twice before he answered, singing the last few words of your personalized ringtone before breaking off to greet you, “well heeeeellllloooo, babycakes! What are you up to on this fine evening?”

You smiled despite yourself, caught up in the shine that glinted off him even over the phone, and took a step away from the stoop, heels clicking in time with your words. “Hey Mikey, not much, just wanted to talk while I walked home from work.”

He made some low sound at that, half confirmation and half question. “Didn’t know you were working a late shift tonight- Need me to come get you? I can give you a lift home?”

You shook you head, already at the corner, mentally counting down the streets until you were home. “Naw, it’s alright, just- will you talk to me for a bit?”

“Sure thing, babes. I always got time for you.” He sounded like he was parked in front of the tv. You could faintly hear the rolling music of that new game he had gotten, likely paused while he entertained you. Beyond that however, it sounded like the Lair was relatively silent, and you felt a stab of curiosity if he was listening in to the conversation.

Best not think about that.

“Tell me what’s been going on? Has Don got the shell-raiser up and running?” You asked to distract yourself.

“Dude, he’s made the biggest mess in the garage. It’s a good thing sensei never goes out there, because he’d have a conniption over it. Leo’s already had to remind him to clean up twice.”

You gave an annoyed hum, heart spiking at the mention of the someone, but you squashed the feeling, “yea, bet Dee just let that go in one ear and out the other.”

Mikey snorted. “You know it. And now that Leo and Raph are both in the ha’shi, Donnie’s got free-”

“Hang on,” you interrupted him, foot scuffing the sidewalk as you jerked to a stop. “Le-They’re both… in the ha'shi?” That- that made it sound like they were fighting again.

But- surely Raph would have mentioned tension with his brother? Between you and April, it seemed like at least one of you knew when the two were butting heads, and as far as you knew it’d been quiet on that front.

I… guess not?

“Uh… Yeah?” Mikey sounded a little further away, like he was looking at the phone instead of speaking directly into it. You got the distinct impression he felt he had said too much, and hurried to try to get a read before he could clam up:

“Raph wouldn’t- he didn’t say-”

“Yeah, neither of them are in the mood to explain much.” That didn’t sound like something Mikey would normally say, and you were about to push him on that, make him explain, when suddenly the hair on the back of your neck stood straight up, and you stiffened.

“Um.”

Mikey sensed the change immediately. “Woah, what’s up, angel? You ok?”

“Um.” You repeated the word, fighting the urge to glance around, wincing as you heard a commotion at the end of the street. A small group of drunken men spilled out from a bar, and normally it wouldn’t be cause for alarm-

But they’d straightened at the sight of you, had gone from stumbling and leaning against one another to a pointed fixation that did not bode well.

You could hear Mikey on the other line as you abruptly turned and crossed the street, fighting to blend in and not draw anymore attention to yourself. You heard a clatter over the phone, something yelled, then Donnie was on the line, voice clipped high and tight:

“Where are you?”

“Um.” You repeated the word for the third time, voice tightening and pitching up, trying to make out the street sign at the corner, but it was too dark, and you were too panicked, opting to speed walk past instead of slowing. The lights of passing cars and the blinking neon hum of signs melded together, overlayed with the drunken whoop not far behind you.

More clatter over the phone, the distinct sound of something being knocked over followed by a frazzled cuss word. You could tell Donnie still had the phone, because he was breathing heavily into the speaker, too preoccupied to regulate his breaths in what you assumed was a mad dash to his computer.

You turned a corner, dodged across another street, flinching as a rock skipped past your ankles, obviously thrown. You knew now, without a doubt, that you were being pursued.

You could hear the click clack click clack of Donnie’s keyboard, and your phone chirped in your hand, informing you he was pinging your location. Your relief was short lived however, when a heavy arm looped over your neck.

You gasped, feeling the bite of whatever buckle was on the side cut into your cheek, and the man next to you drew you upright, until your spine protested at the movement.

“Babes, take the next right, we’re on our way.” Mikey at the phone again, but you could only whimper, hoping he understood.

A second man took your phone, terminated the call, and you had half a beat to wonder how you hadn’t heard them get closer, loud as they were being now, carousing and laughing as though you were a part of their group.

You couldn’t see your phone anymore, but the tight hold on the hand that had been holding onto it kept you from looking too much. A touch low on your back made you up the number of people surrounding you, as the man with your head still pulled close to him jerked his head into your space, tone slurring:

“Hey beautiful, how ‘bout we buy you a drink?”

You didn’t bother replying. You dug your nails down into the meat of the hand holding your own, while simultaneously biting into the jacket pressed against your face, determined to put up a fight.

Hindsight was flashing in your mind’s eye next to the scant self-defense information you’d let Leo drill into your head. You hadn’t taken the lessons very seriously, too preoccupied with keeping your budding feelings under leash. His calm tone washed over you now, but the words were garbled, proof you’d been too busy staring at him to pay attention.

Always create space, if you can.

You rocked a foot backwards, seesawing in their grip, dropping low and jabbing an elbow to the side in order to create some space. You counted your blessings that your coat was unzipped, as you pulled your arms through the holes, dropping your purse in the process.

Forget your purse/bag, it’s not more important than you.

Only one man still held on, but you realized halfway through pulling your clasped hands through your bulky coat that you were, in fact, holding onto him. You let go at the revelation, pushed your coat into his face, and pivoted, taking off in a run down the street.

If you can get away, do so. Fighting is a last re-

A hard grip on your arm brought your internal dialogue short. You were moving too fast to stop, barely bringing your hands up in time to stop from slamming head first into the wall you were pivoting towards. Your palms scraped against the worn brick, and you hissed at the pain.

The three were ringed around the opening to the alley, and you almost flinched at the echo of another night, another time you had to be rescued.

“You really don’t want to do this.” You promised them, voice breathless, and the closest one laughed.

“All we wanted to do was buy you a drink, but I guess you’re too good for-”

His words were cut off, something big and bulky dropping from the roof to land between you and your attackers. He hit the concrete with a low thud, and you sagged in relief, taking in the chipped blue paint across the shell suddenly facing you.

Slowly, Leo straightened, and the growl coming from him rattled your bones, the sound all but drowning out the thumps of the other brothers cutting off the mens’ escape.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” His voice was low, dangerous, and you almost shivered in sympathy for what was about to happen. “When a lady says no, she means no.”

You covered your eyes, knowing it wasn’t going to be pretty, having no stomach to watch the men be apprehended. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was bad enough, though you were relieved to not hear the hiss of steel being drawn.

You stayed against the wall, counting to drown out the wait, until a soft hand touched your arm, and you dropped your arm.

Mikey peered back at you, concern crowding his sky blue eyes. “Hey, babes. You ok?”

You shot to him, hitting his plastron hard, pulling a puff of air from him before his arms wrapped around you. You shuddered against him. He held you, one hand smoothing up and down your back in a rhythmic motion as he cooed into your hair:

“Hey, you’re ok, you’re alright, don’t cry-”

It took you a few moments to become aware of your surroundings, sounds filtering back in slowly. Donnie was on his hologram, co-ordinating pick up with police, hands moving fast as he tracked over vitals and communications. You became so dizzy at the small glance towards the scrolling data that you burrowed back into Mikey’s chest before another noise pulled you back up.

Raph was cursing low under his breath, sulky and frustrated. He looked up from where he was securing the men to a heavy metal dumpster, and something complicated chased over his expression. You pulled in a breath, knowing you were crying, knowing he hated it when you did, but his mouth compressed, eyes all but darting to the side as though begging you to follow.

Your eyes flitted in the direction he indicated, caught on the sway of swords over shoulders, and you stubbornly returned to the red banded brother. You knew your face was pale, set in a scowl, but he matched it, jerking his chin at you in clear reprimand.

You took in a deep breath, turned away, clung to Mikey as though that would dismiss the problem. But the problem was still growling, the sound low and ominous, a rumble at the bottom of your auditory register that wouldn’t let you settle, that kept you on edge.

It was getting closer, and you felt your shoulders tighten, Mikey’s hands coming up to give them a squeeze before he shifted you back.

“Are you alright?” Came the question, and you turned to stare at Leo's plastron, watched it rise and fall underneath the straps of his harness. The little camera across his chest winked at you, and you reminded yourself that Donnie recorded everything.

“I’m fine.” You whispered the answer, conscious Mikey was moving away, giving you space. The tightness in your shoulders doubled as Leo swayed closer.

Apparently your answer wasn’t good enough, because a strong hand cupped your cheek, tilted your head back until you met narrowed blue eyes, crystal clear and angry as he smoothed a digit over the imprinted divot on your cheekbone.

Leo’s other hand engulfed on of your wrists, held it upwards to take in the scraped skin, and with his head bent over your hand you had a vivid flashback to the last time you two had talked.

His words from then buzzed in your ears, professional and precise, calm and confident in his verdict. Faced now with that same bowed position, an echo of that nauseous feeling bubbled up, and you closed your hand without thinking.

Leo looked up, eyes locking on your own, and whatever he saw ticked the frown deeper across his face. His hands lingered, his eyes catalogued, and you saw the exact moment his need for control won whatever silent argument he was having.

“Mind telling me what happened?” He dropped your hand, stood to his full height, and you felt the retreat as keenly as you did the last time, the hand at your cheek suddenly cold.

“Yes.” You answered, tugged your face from his grip, watched as the appendage fisted in mid air before he let it drop to thump against his thigh twice.

“Why’d you hang up?” He tried again, and you relaxed a little in the face of a question you had the patience to answer.

“They took my phone.” You gestured the mime with your hand and he jutted his chin towards Raph, silently ordering him to preform a pat down and find the stolen device.

You lifted that same hand to your temple, feeling the beginnings of a stress headache start. His hand raised in tandem, fingers gliding against yours before you pulled your whole head away with a jerk.

That growl spiked with the movement, and you saw him stiffen, hand falling once again.

You sidestepped to face him, squinting as the sound didn’t dissipate. “L- Are you growling?”

He blinked, surprised for half a beat, before his fist pressed to his plastron, and you watched in real time as he processed something. The growling dropped off, a bare thrum of sound, until he took a deep breath and seemingly wrestled it back under control.

You watched the entire time with wide eyes, but when you went to ask what the hell that was he beat you to the punch:

“We’ll take you back to the lair, let Donnie patch you up-”

“I’m literally three streets from my apartment.” You interrupted him, conscious that it was something you would normally never do, but he only turned expectantly towards you, eye ridge up in a firm contradiction.

And anger flared up at the I know better clear in his eyes. You admired his ability to command attention, to lead his brothers, but the order in his gaze rankled up your spine in such a way that you couldn’t contain your next words.

You jabbed a finger at him, before turning it to sweep up and down your person. “You don’t call the shots for me, buster.” Defiance, words unspoken: You made it clear you didn’t want responsibility for me.

That growl kickstarted up again, though this time he seemed aware of the noise, snout curling back over his teeth before he forced his lips flat.

A hand appeared at your back, Raph softly pushing you to the side and away from Leo. “C’mon, sweetheart, just come hang out for a bit. Let Don fuss over you, let us call in pizza. I’ll even carry you.”

“I’ll carry her.” Leo interjected, and you sensed a different tension in the quiet that followed, silence thick enough that you stepped back all on your own.

The two brothers were clearly not getting along, and the fact made you even more wary of going with them. “I’m not going if you two are going to be at each other’s throats.”

Leo jutted his chin towards his brother, clearly a challenge, and you watched as Raph scoffed, held his gaze for a long minute before letting his gaze slide to the side in acceptance.

Leo tilted his chin up. “Move out, Raphael,” He ordered, swinging his head toward you expectantly, hand held out in what would have been an instinctual move to scoop you up a month ago.

“Mikey can carry me.” You said it low to him, kept your voice calm and even, as you passed his outstretched hand. The last thing you needed right now was his arms around you, and he was being weirdly territorial.

Maybe it was just to get under Raph’s skin. Maybe it was his odd way of trying to make up for the distance he’d imposed. Either way, you really weren’t in the mood.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse fanfiction #tmnt bayverse fanfic #bayverse leonardo #bayverse leo #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse raphael #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse donatello

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scekrex · 8 months ago

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HIII🫶🫶🫶🫶💍💍💍

I had an idea for a adam xm!reader and its like reader became in a way a sort of friends with the main cast of the demons (Charlie, Vaggie angel ect.) and adam finds out about it when he finds reader with fat nuggets in hel for funzies idk im not so great at English its absolutely not my first language nor the second so if its a complicated idea you can just scrap it dww!!

Furthermore i hope you have a great rest of you’re day 🫶🫶

Sup hun, I simply assumed you mean angel!reader bc it makes the most sense (and it's what I've written) hope ya like it xoxo/p

Forbidden fruits cause damage

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

You knew you weren't allowed to, you knew that if Sera or the other seraphims were to find out, they wouldn't let you come back, that you would only see Adam once a year during extermination day and it really messed with your head to be constantly reminded of how tight heaven's rules were.

And yet you came back over and over again.

At first it had been to visit Charlie's hotel, to make sure she wasn't violating any rules heaven had made - that had been an order from Sera. But when Charlie had greeted you so warmly as if she was one of your closest friends and Niffty had dubbed you 'totally hot not-badboy' you couldn't resist when it came to visiting these shitheads.

At first your visits had been rare, they had been a once every couple month kinda deal, you needed to be careful not to draw any attention to you after all. But soon every couple months turned into once a month, once a month became once every two weeks and every two weeks quickly switched to every week.

And while heaven seemed to either not notice or not care enough - maybe they thought you were doing business with Lucifer, who knew - Adam noticed. Of course your boyfriend would notice that every week you'd suddenly disappear for an entire day. You always made sure to leave early in the morning to be back for dinner. However, whenever you left during the early morning hours Adam woke up due to the lack of warmth that you took with you when you left. He was a cuddly guy, even if he would never admit it so of course he would notice his beloved boyfriend’s absence.

Today was yet another day to visit hell. So you went down to hell early, you had left Adam a note that stated something along the lines of 'visiting Ma & Pa, see ya tonight, big guy'. He however wasn't buying any of it. You had once lied to him by telling him you were hanging out with a friend of yours and when Adam had left the apartment for a walk he had seen said friend alone. The same thing happened a couple weeks later again.

He crumbled the little note in his hand and threw it onto the bed. He trusted you, he really did, but then there were his insecurities. His first and second wife had both decided to cheat on him and leave him. What prevented you from doing so too? He didn't know and the thoughts of you fucking another guy were eating him alive.

What if you disappeared once a week to enjoy time with someone who was more charming and loving than him? With someone who'd constantly tell you how much he loves you instead of jokingly insulting you? He couldn't stand his mind for fucking him up so badly, he wanted to crash his head against a wall until it would split open, but he didn't.

Instead he snapped his fingers to let a small orb appear in front of him. The scene the orb showed him was fogged up at first but the picture got clearer only seconds later. He felt disgusting for spying on you, wanted to scratch the skin off of his bones and claw out his eyes but it was the only thing that quieted down his mind at least a little bit.

The orb showed you a bright smile on your face as you held a little pig, petting the small animal lovingly. Next to you stood Angel Dust.

Angel Dust?

“Fat Nuggets really loves you, y’know, poor baby always gets sad when you have to leave,” the pornstar explained with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. Adam couldn't believe what he was seeing. You were in hell, even worse: you were in hell to hang out with the demon scum like it was the most normal thing to do for an angel as pure as you were. The brunette was so overwhelmed by his feelings that he didn't even recognize it when the orb disappeared again, the only thing that was on his mind was why you didn't tell him.

You were apparently regularly hanging out in hell and instead of telling him you always made up some sad excuses why you were gone for the day. Did you not feel comfortable sharing such a big secret? Adam's mind went crazy, the wildest trains of thoughts were running through his head and there was not a single thing the first man was able to do about it, the only thing that was possible in a situation such as his was to take it.

When you got home that evening Adam was walking up and down in the living room. “You okay, babes?” you casually asked, your voice didn't indicate that you had been lying to him for months, it didn't indicate that you had just gotten back to heaven after spending the entire day with some demon fuck-ups. “You wanna explain me where the fuck you were?” Adam asked instead of answering your question and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes gave away that he was pissed about something yet they were glued onto your body leaning against the door frame. “I wrote you a note, I was-” you were about to explain but the first man to ever be created didn't let you finish, “Fuck you and fuck your lies. You weren't visiting your parents bitch, you were in hell visiting the demon fuck-ups who think redemption is possible.”

You frowned at his words - yes that was true but how the fuck did Adam know about that? “What? So you were spying on me?” you questioned his behavior and stepped towards Adam. The brunette seemed to be close to crying yet his body was ready for a fist fight. “After I figured out you lied to me twice about hanging out with friends? Duh,” he made a hand movement that was supposed to symbolize something along the lines ‘obviously I did’.

You let out a deep sigh. He was right. And that was way too fucking hard to actually admit. But you swallowed your pride and gave in. You walked past him, your hand reached out for him but he flinched away from your touch which resulted in you sitting on the couch alone. He didn't move an inch from the spot he was standing on, the only thing he did was to turn around in order to look at you. “I’m sorry.” A look of surprise washed over the brunette's face and his body language visibly softened. He had expected many things but an apology without a fight hadn't been one of them. “What?” he dumbly asked as he blinked at you in confusion. His wings, which had been fluffed up to make him seem bigger than he already was, dropped until they were pressed against his sides again. His beautiful golden eyes which had been full of anger only moments ago had softened too, they reflected empathy.

You couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes as you continued to speak so you stared at the floor instead, “I’m sorry that I lied to you, that I visited hell without telling you, I know I should have but -” you shook your head as you paused for a moment. “No. No excuses. I was afraid of your reaction to it, I know you hate them, I know you hate their project but they're actually so sweet and caring and- and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about all of it. I should have shared this with you.”

Now it was Adam who sighed as he flopped down onto the couch next to you, he kept his distance though, “I don't fucking like that you're visiting them, what if one day you'll get locked out of heaven? The fuck am I supposed to do without you?” You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. “I honestly don't fucking care who you're friends with and what they are. That's your fucking life, I won't control that shit, that's yours to decide. Just promise me to be fucking careful ‘n’ stop fucking lying to me about it.” You nodded silently, it was the only response that felt right in that moment.

“N remember, if I have to go to fucking hell just to fuck your juicy little ass, I fucking will. You're not safe from me, not even down there,” the grin in Adam's voice was audible and you peeked up a little only to see the taller man grinning down at you. That made you smile a little.

It was the next day that you called Charlie to inform her that you wouldn't be able to visit as regularly anymore. You weren't willing to risk everything, especially Adam. She being the supportive girl she was obviously understood. “Who are we talking to?” Adam asked sleepily as he entered the kitchen, the poor man had just woken up and followed your voice immediately. “Charlie,” you cheered at him, “You wanna say hi?” You held your phone in front of his face, his mimic was a mix between annoyance and sleepiness as he spoke, “Sup, bitch.” Then he went to make himself a coffee. “You want one too, babes?” he offered to you and you nodded before giving him a quick ‘thank you’ kiss. “Was that Adam?” Charlie asked in surprise over the phone. “Yeah, y’know how I told ya that we're dating?” Your words made pride bloom in Adam's chest, you had been talking to your new friends about him and you weren't hiding that he was your boyfriend even though Charlie and Adam weren't exactly on good terms. “Well yeah you mentioned that but I didn't think- nevermind. I hope you two have a wonderful morning, I assume we'll see each other in two months?” Lucifer's daughter seemed eager to get off the phone now that she knew that Adam was with you. You chuckled at that, “Yeah, sure, see ya then.”

Once the call ended Adam turned around with a sharp grin on his lips, “So, how's hell reacting to a pure babes like you dating me?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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yurinaa-world · 1 year ago

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Could I request a the twst(anybody) with a Coppelia reader (Dirge of Coppelia from genshin impact)right when her dance partner got broken down while not her,she got transported to twisted wonderland, sometimes they catch her dancing alone, what would they react about her dancing, would they join her?

(For reference this is what she looks like)

Characters: Leona, Floyd, Malleus, and Lilla x Female Reader

Synopsis: With Coppelia reader, when her partner breaks down while not with her she sometimes dances alone and they dance with her.

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, and maybe ooc?

Notes: I'm sorry for this being late, I've been burned out with work :((

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇

Leona, I just thought you were another weirdo; there’s a whole bunch of them at Night Raven College, so there was nothing different about it, but you always seem sad, like, he gets it, nobody wants to be here listening to lectures.

But you looked like you'd cried a river full of tears; your voice sounds so horsed; he tries to pretend that he doesn’t care, yet here he is doing exactly that.

When Ruggie tried to wake up Leona, he gave up after a long while, leaving him in the botanical garden and waking him to see someone dancing. That someone is you. Wasn't this the first time he’d caught you dancing alone?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You hear a yawn from behind, stopping your dance and looking behind to see Leona lying against the tree of the botanical garden, looking back at you. "Ain't it boring to do the same dance over and over again?" Leona asks, his voice laced with sleep. You shake your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

"Oh, not at all! When a dance holds meaning, you can never tire of it. Well, I usually have a partner, but he's gone," you say with a sad sigh.

"Dance with me then," Leona suggests getting up from the ground, grabbing your hand, and interwinding your fingers together. "I'm not telling you to dance with me, you know, and this dance is really difficult!" you tell him with a smile.

"I've never been more attentive to anything in my life. Teach me," he grins back at you. "Alright then, just follow my lead and keep close to me, okay?" You ask him, "Alright then," and he nods back to you. You take a deep breath and slowly start your dance step by step, making sure you move in sync with him.

𝐹𝓁𝑜𝓎𝒹 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽

He’s seen alone crying, doesn’t say anything, and leaves you alone. Later, he grabs you and just takes you away to hang out with him; no, you don’t have a choice.

He's your biggest fan, and no one else can compare, but he doesn’t watch; he gets in there, grabs you, swings you around, and calls it dancing.

If he's in the mood, he’ll learn from you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Come on, let's dance together, shrimpy!” Floyd intertwined your delicate fingers with his while spinning with a bright smile on his face. You smiled back at him, trying not to get dizzy. Before Floyd, let’s go with falling on your buttocks from the dizziness.

“Shrimpy looks so funny and all dizzy!” Floyd laughs while you laugh along with him to humor him a little. “What did you think? Wasn’t it fun to dance with me?" He smiles, showing his sharp teeth.

“well Floyd I don’t think spinning around is dancing,” you mutter. “huh?” You hear him say his smile, stopping before grabbing your hands and pulling you up in a quick motion.

You gasp as he pulls you up. “Then show me how to dance. I want to see you do those pretty twirls!" He said he was grinning like crazy.

“I would love to teach you.” You smiled back.

𝑀𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓊𝓈 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒾𝒶

10/10 right here. I just have to say he would be an amazing dancer, and I mean, it would be a dream come true to dance with him (for me, it would be a dream).

He’s so mesmerized, you can dance too! So, want to dance with him? Yes or Yes. Man probably saw you dancing one night, then afterward went back to his dorm, thinking about how to ask to dance with him, like he needed to ask.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“A dance with you, child of man?” Malleus with a smile on his face asks you to hold out his gloved hand for you to take whilst you are outside of the ramshackle dorm, the cold wind making shivers yet you can’t help but be flustered by the sudden question.

You blush, not because your heart was pounding in your chest, not because of the way he had been smiling at you—though that had made your breath hitch and your cheeks flush—taking his hand, feeling the soft glove, “Of course” you smile as he placed his other hand on your body.

Slowly moving together, you can’t help but look away from his face, looking into his eyes—such bright green eyes so unreal to look into, it just freaked you out and made your head spin.

“Don’t look away.” You hear Malleus making you look back at him with a bit of surprise.

“I won’t,”

𝐿𝒾𝓁𝒾𝒶 𝒱𝒶𝓃𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝑒

Father like son, 10/10 amazing dancer, he’s learned every type of dance there is to know.

He’s seen you dancing and also scared the hell out of you while you were making it to the main part. You just open your eyes and find his face inches into yours, making you shriek and fall backward.

Since that happened, he’s always come to watch you dance. Only sometimes since he likes your frightened face it's quite cute.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Feeling the wind in your hair made you feel alive. The weather was just calling for you to dance in the open. The tree leaves were rustling. With you dancing without a care in the world, you were also trying not to worry about anything or anyone right now.

“a smile as beautiful as a flower,” a voice you know t well be Lilia, of course, his voice making you completely ruin your rhythm and jumping forward, looking behind to find him—hanging like a bat with a smile.

“You scared me!” You huff, clenching your chest before sighing, “If you don’t mind me intruding, may I ask for a dance with you?" Lilia asks, holding a hand out after standing on his feet instead of hanging.

“You could have asked before scaring me, but sure, I would love to dance with you.” the smile returned on your face with you taking his hand—before he kissed your hand, making you blush a little.

“I like how cute your face looks.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

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5eraphim · 1 year ago

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NOT SURE IF ANYONE ELSE REQ THIS.... nsfw yandere emesis blue Medic please !! He was literally so caring and kind at the beginning and watching him delve into madness and being like.. that ...was so hot and so good for yandere material! thank u :D

ALRIGHTY! so this one's a little different than what I usually write, and honestly, Medic doesn't have much yandere-behavior until the final scene, but I hope you enjoy, thank you so much for the request!

(This is meant to take place during chapter 5, after he tries to revive Scout in the respawn machine, sees himself over Scout's Ma's body, gets burned by Pyro and is hiding out in a Chapel. And before he's found by Spy and Soldier.)

Title: Heaven Waits

Character: Emesis Blue! Medic 🕊️

Rating: X, MINORS DNI! GO PLAY OUTSIDE!

Content Warnings: Slight spoilers for Emesis Blue, Sad Medic, asphyxiation, sexual massage/hand bathing, gender neutral reader, yandere, oral (male receiving), angst/bad ending, religious themes, death

Word Count: 5.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"I fell in love with the idea that the mysterious thing you look for your whole life will eventually eat you alive." Laurie Anderson explaining her Attraction to Moby Dick

"Is this a dream?" You wondered as you listened to your footsteps echoing in the hollow nothingness stretching endlessly around you. If all this was a dream, you wanted to wake up again. What felt like hours had passed since you woke up in the fetal position on the ground with no memory of how you got here and a full canteen of water strapped around your neck.

While you weren't hungry, thirsty, or tired, you were overwhelmed by a bewildering sense of loneliness, an anxiety in isolation that only intensified the longer you plodded along. You were almost sure this was a dream, given the surreal lack of life around you, no other humans, no buzzing insects, chirping birds, or scurrying of some mammal- just you and the sound of the wind. The world around you appeared hazy, shrouded by dark shadows, making you wonder if you were lost in civilization or the wilderness.

Every now and then, you could hear something in the distance, some nondescript moan or growling sound like nothing you couldn't imagine making you freeze up and feel all the more helpless. But just as you were beginning to wonder if you'd been walking in circles, you could see what appeared to be a little urban outskirt in the darkened horizon. And before you could even consider if you were about to run straight into danger, you found yourself racing in the direction of quasi-familiarity. Specifically, something called you toward a squat derelict chapel a distance from the rest of the buildings. Something deep down urged you forward- convinced you were meant to go inside. Like someone was in there waiting for you, someone who could cure you of the crushing loneliness.

The sight of something recognizable filled you with hope; not only was it an actual building, but you could swear you saw the outline of a person inside. You spotted a massive hole in the building beside the shoddily boarded-up door and windows just big enough to crawl through. The chapel appeared rickety by age; the outside was veined with cracks and spotted with gaping holes of missing walls, making the building appear even more fragile. You couldn't guess how long this place was abandoned, but the idea of no longer wandering the darkness lost and alone gave you all the incentive needed to investigate the inside.

Standing on the other side of the drafty chapel stood a tall man with a familiar silhouette, facing away from you, breaking the silence with a whisper hardly loud enough for you to hear. "Gott hilf mir."

"Medic, is that you?" While you were hopeful, the idea of finding a friendly face in the confusing nightmare you'd awoken in seemed too good to be true, and you were careful not to get too close to the figure before discovering precisely who it was. As you drew closer, inch by agonizing inch, you held your breath, biting down on your lower lip nervously. Too scared to get any closer, you watched with wide, terrified eyes as the figure turned to face you, revealing himself to be exactly who you hoped, though now that you could see his face, you were struck by just how different he looked.

"I am here." Was all he had to say as you paced across the uneven chapel floors in his direction. Not only did he look different, but his voice sounded horse, hardly like the man you knew.

Medic looked years older. The bags under his eyes seemed heavier in the low lighting, and the sweat coating his face emphasized his fine lines, somehow making his face appear more gaunt. You could tell by the way he was facing the light something was off about the half of his face concealed by shadows, but you couldn't quite see. More disturbingly, as you looked down, you realized blood drenched his bare forearms and hands, staining them bright red; his vest and shirt were so soaked with blood it formed little red rivulets trailing down his pants.

You couldn't imagine what he'd gone through before you found him. To your disappointment, he hardly reacted to your presence, watching you with dull eyes, arms slackened at his sides as he stared straight ahead through the window on the far wall.

Pausing a few paces away, you wrung your hands together nervously, fiddling with the canteen, listening to the water quietly sloshing inside. "Medic, what happened to you?" The question was so blunt you almost felt embarrassed saying it out loud. He sighed heavily, breaking away from the window, taking a seat at the nearby pew, which creaked as he sat, slumped forward, burying his head in his hands.

"It's Fritz."

"Huh?"Timidly you approached the bench as though waiting for permission before sitting down, though, to your disappointment, he continued to regard you with little more than melancholic disinterest. Still, he didn't pull away, which you took as an invitation to sit beside him.

He took his glasses off, leaving them on the side of the bench away from you. Fritz used his hand to rub the sweat from his tired eyes. "It's Fritz now. I have no right to call myself a Medic. Not anymore."

You were about to say something, but he spoke first, "I can't save anyone."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing; sitting beside him on the bench with the canteen on your lap, you whispered, "You don't really believe that do you?"

"I know so." He responded, pressing his lips together into a hard line as though trying to hold in tears. Clearly, he must be referring to what he'd been through before, whatever it was you hadn't witnessed, but thinking back a little further, you remembered how hard Medic took Scout getting laid off. But you were told it was a complication regarding the respawn machine, and you couldn't understand how Fritz blamed himself for this.

"But, Medi- sorry, Fritz, you don't really blame yourself for what happened to Scout, do you?"

He nodded once solemnly, "I do."

"It wasn't your fault, I don't… Fritz, I don't understand why everything's gone insane since the respawn machine went down, but none of this is your fault! I don't know what's going on around here, but let's try and find our way back home; if we work together, we could-"

He shook his head, furrowing his brow, groaning in frustration, "You don't understand! You haven't seen what I've seen. If you knew what I've done- what I did to that poor boy, you'd never want to see me again." Fritz's voice cracked with emotion, like even saying Scout's name hurt him.

There was no way he would tell you what he'd seen, but you refused to believe his words. "That can't be true."

"I made Jeremy go through respawn! I knew it was dangerous, but I forced him through anyway! I was reckless- I was stupid! I'm the one who turned him into a smear of blood on the floor!" His hands balled into fists, clutching the fabric of his pants as he shouted. You could feel your stomach drop imagining what happened to Scout in this awful place, but you also felt all the more compelled to get Fritz out of here.

Turning to lean closer to him, you reached out to touch his blood-splattered arm, pleading, "Fritz, please, don't talk like that. I don't know what you're going through, but I can't stand by and let you give up like this! Come back to base with me, I know we don't know how to fix this yet, but we can't do anything sticking around here! We need to move now!"

He looked up, eyes unfocused and haunted, speaking in a hoarse croak. "For God's sake, he was so young- He had his entire life ahead of him, and I took all that away. If his mother knew what I'd done-" His voice broke off into a choked sob, "Oh God, his mother-"

Fritz held his head in his hands as he began panting erratically, almost hyperventilating, his knuckles going white as he fisted his hair, his terror was impossible to understand, and you were almost too scared to get any closer for fear of intensifying his anxiety, but seeing him tormented hurt too much. Leaning close enough to feel his breath on your face, you placed your hands over his, gently pulling them from the sides of his face to your lap over the canteen. Fritz wouldn't meet your gaze, focusing squarely on the sight of your hands wrapped around his, trying to calm his trembling. A part of you wanted to know exactly what happened to Scout's mother, but you doubted Fritz was in the state to talk about it.

"Fritz, we need to get you out of here before-"

To your surprise, Fritz began to laugh wildly between his dog-like panting, the sound giving you goosebumps, "Before what? Before I'm killed again? Can't you see- there is no way out!"

Your mouth went dry. "Killed… again?"

He didn't answer, rocking back and forth as he laughed. You shouted desperately, squeezing his hands between yours, "Fritz, what's happened to you?"

He laughed maniacally for a moment until it quieted to a chuckle, "Maybe you're right… None of this is real. None of this makes sense, none of this means anything, and it's all a matter of time before I die for good. If I were you, I'd run. Save yourself from me while you can!" His grin terrified you, the expression so frightening it made him appear even less like himself. Only now, with your forced closeness, registered the scar of burnt tissue from his left ear, down the side of his face, almost extending down his neck. Once you noticed the blotch, it was impossible to look away.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to speak. "I don't understand any of this more than you do, Fritz, but I won't leave without you. I would never leave you behind. I don't care what you've done here, for God's sake- you're a good man! You don't deserve to die alone here!" You could see his face visibly sour when you called him a 'good man.'

Drawing a deep breath, he slouched back a little, reclining against the pew but keeping his hands on your lap. "Do you believe there's another side? Will there be an afterlife when you die? Will there be any mercy for people like me? Or is this my eternity?"

Hearing him admit defeat like this was so unlike the Fritz you knew; it was almost insulting to hear. "Stop talking like that! You're not going to die, and you aren't dead yet; please, let me get you out of here!"

His eyes narrowed as he finally looked you in the eye. "Do you remember how you got here?"

You blinked, "What?"

He continued in a sharp tone, "Do you know how long you've been here?"

"Fritz, what do you-"

You could feel his fists tightening between your hands as he continued, "Tell me, how do you know you're not already dead?"

Your eyes widened hearing him say that. No matter how hopeful you tried to sound, you had no answer for him. Fritz was right. You had no idea how long you'd wandered the darkness trying to find another living person, how you got here, or why you were brought here. You genuinely had no idea how you came to wake up here, and you couldn't entirely deny the possibility you really were dead.

You felt so cold, while you could feel your heart beating, your hands felt numb, and you felt yourself swaying in your seat, unable to remain steady as Fritz continued to question you. But it couldn't be true. You refused to let yourself believe it was so!

There was no getting through to him like this, pushing the canteen off your lap onto the bench to stand up facing him. You closed the distance between the two of you until you were close enough to crawl onto his lap, legs straddling either side of his body. He looked slightly baffled but didn't make any effort to pull away. Cupping the sides of his face with the palms of your hands, you forced a small, compassionate smile. He pulled back slightly, pressing his back harder against the bench, though he made no effort to push you off. "Fritz, no matter what happens to us or what you do, I'll always wait for you. I will always try to find you."

"Why?" He muttered.

"I care about you; I always will. There is nothing you can do to change that." You had no idea if you were saying the right thing or not, but to further convince him, you pressed a loving, almost parental kiss to the top of his head, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, gently pressing yourself as tight up against him as possible, signing in with content and relief when you felt his arms numbly wrap around your waist. His body felt cold, and you suspected yours did too, but up against each other like this, at least it would be easier to warm up.

Fritz felt so small and vulnerable in your arms, more fragile than you'd ever seen him before. The feeling of his weak arms wrapped around your body was as sweet as it was heartbreaking. He squeezed you tighter as you pressed your forehead against the top of his head, rubbing tiny circles into his scalp with your fingertips as you hummed quietly.

Touching his cheek with a trembling hand, you inquired gently, "What happened to your face?"

His lips pressed into a hard line as he turned his face, pulling away slightly, "It's nothing... It doesn't hurt." You could tell he didn't want you to worry about him, but your eyes drifted down as you got a closer look at how roughed up he really was.

"Your hands are covered in blood- Is it… yours?"

He shook his head, "The Conaghers."

Blood splattered from his fingertips to elbows and caked the front of his vest and undershirt. Placing both hands on the top buttons of his vest, you began undoing the buttons.

"What are you doing?" He sounded dazed but didn't try to stop you, which you took as a sign to continue, trying not to get too grossed by the dry, crusted blood stains that stiffened the fabric.

"You're filthy. I'm going to clean you up." Hopping down from his lap, you worked to completely undo his vest; you helped him shrug it off, placing it beside him on the pew.

"What's the point? You'll just waste your water." He sounded pessimistic but compliant as you undid the buttons on his undershirt. As you suspected, the blood seeped entirely through the fabric, crusts of blood getting caught in his chest hair, staining his skin, and you couldn't help but worry for a moment you wouldn't have enough water to get the job done. While you'd seen him covered in blood countless times before, seeing him so beaten down and depressed while enveloped in gore made it hard to look at him.

Forcing half a smile, you replied, "C'mon, don't worry about that. Let me do what I can to help."

Without another thought, you stepped back a little, pulling off your shirt, pouring out most of the water in the canteen to drench the fabric, then pressing the wet cloth to his shoulder. "This will probably feel a little cold. Just try to relax, alright?"

You could swear you saw his eyes lingering on your exposed body for a moment before nodding, letting his eyes drift shut, and sighing softly as you began to work the cold cloth against his chest.

Trying to remove all the blood coating him was a tall order; Fritz was a big guy, and you only had so much water at your disposal, but you couldn't help but notice the tension slowly draining from his face as you continued to wipe away the blood. His breathing began to deepen and slow as your fingers crept from his chest lower down. It would be easy to try and get even lower, but you wanted to keep Fritz mellow and take as much time as possible. After you'd cleaned his upper chest, you drapped the cloth around his neck and began massaging the taunt muscles in his shoulders, trying to work some tension from his upper back.

Fritz's head lulled a bit further back as you pressed your fingers harder into his flesh. You could watch him like this forever, but you forced yourself to focus on where he was the dirtiest, his hands. You wrung out the rag and dowsed some more water on it before kneeling down. Creeping closer to plant yourself between his spread legs, taking his right arm with yours while you used the other arm to swab the carnage from his skin. Working with the utmost care, you tried your best to clean the filth from the creases of his hands, from under his nails, and out of the hair coating his arms, trying to ignore the putrid smell in the process.

Doing the same to the other arm, you were honestly amazed at how much blood you'd managed to scrub away, though without soap, you couldn't do anything to clean up the red residue plastered across his arms and chest. Staying put on your knees before him, you knew the right thing to do was re-dress him and look for a way out now that you'd gotten him as clean as possible. But the sight of Fritz, half undressed and finally relaxed, made you pause. "Would it really be so bad to stay just a while longer?" You wondered.

You didn't want to awaken him from the calm trance he'd fallen into, so you began to advance with feather-light movements, placing one hand on the top of his knee, the other on the bare skin just above his belt. You whispered, "Can I get these off too?"

Looking down at you through half-lid eyes, he hesitated momentarily before nodding, "Please."

His face was flushed, and you could tell he was already semi-aroused from the massage. Fritz watched as you undid his belt, unfastening his pants, shifting in his seat as you pulled them down to his ankles. Despite his encouragement, for a moment, you were too scared to touch him, as though all it would take was one wrong move to shatter the peaceful mood. All you wanted to do was make Fritz feel relaxed, content, and loved; now was your moment to do just that.

Leaning in closer, you kissed the skin on his belly when your hands just were, feeling Fritz stiffen above, inhaling between clenched teeth. "So far, so good." You assured yourself as you inched your hands up from his knees to his thighs, kissing lower and lower until your lips hit the waistband of his briefs. You were about to ask again if he was alright with this, but he moved first, shucking off his briefs just enough to pull his cock out.

The moment you saw it, you knew you were officially out of patience, and your need to please Fritz took over entirely. Closing your eyes, you connected both hands with the base of his shaft before kissing his head with parted lips. The impact made him throb against your mouth and grab a fist of your hair on impulse. You opened your mouth wider to take his head, parting your lips further, letting your tongue roll out to feel the vein along the length of his underside.

You had to force your mouth open even wider as he mindlessly bucked forward slightly into your open mouth, the movement taking you by surprise but exciting you even more. Running both hands along the sides of his hips, you could feel muscles tensing under your fingers, Fritz writhing in his seat as you continued to coat his length in saliva, the slick mixing with the few dribbles of precum he'd begun to release. You couldn't help but be surprised at how fast Fritz was coming undone; he must've been more pent-up than you thought. Not that you minded any.

Just as you were sure he was about to come, you felt Fritz tugging your hair, forcing you to disconnect. Confused, you looked up at him, momentarily worried you'd done something wrong. Fritz let go of your hair, pushing himself further upright on the bench. The sight of the man from below, fully erect, coated in his own sweat with his thighs spread wide, made your mouth water and your heartthrob.

After taking another second to compose himself, he rasped, "Please, let me feel all of you! God, I'm so close, but please! I need you!"

Needing no further invitation, you nodded eagerly. Bracing yourself on Fritz's bare legs as you got to your feet, trying to ignore the annoying ache in your knees after being forced against the stone floor for too long. Cynically you realized riding Fritz was the most purpose you'd felt since waking up in this terrible place, but you didn't care. You felt a throb of pleasure as you felt his eyes on you as you fully undressed, as he pushed his briefs all the way down, stepping out of them as he mindlessly spread his thighs a little wider in anticipation.

You could tell he was trying to restrain himself as you took your time sitting on his lap, spreading your legs over his; Fritz wrapped both arms around your back as you eased closer.

Pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, he spoke, "If we get out of this, will you wait for me- you wouldn't leave me behind, would you!?" Fritz looked at you with wild eyes, his pupils blown out, face flushed bright red with a neediness that bordered on insanity. He was irresistible.

You couldn't help but grin, "Of course, I'll owe you after you waited so patiently for me."

Using the top of the pew's backrest, you gripped tight, grinding your sex against his cock; Fritz instinctively hugged you tighter with a strength great enough to squeeze the air from your lungs. The feeling was intense but not unpleasant. You felt a throb from below as he blindly attempted to guide you into place. His head pressed against the sensitive flesh between your legs, which felt heavenly. His body felt searing hot, all-encompassing, and desperate; you couldn't help but feel yourself locking up, blinded by the pleasure, your mind going blank as you listened to Fritz's choppy, heavy breathing as he too, felt pleasure overtaking his mind.

Fritz rolled his head back, eyes drifting shut; he reluctantly unwrapped one arm from around your waist, groping with his hand until he found the top of your hip. Watching him so high out of his mind with pleasure was amusing, as he tried to guide you. But you were too turned on to sit back and watch for too long, and the feeling of his dick coated in precum and spit against your entrance let you know he wouldn't last much longer anyway.

"J-just a little more-" Fritz looked pleadingly up at you, needing just one nod from you before thrusting up. He was painfully horny but still unsure how much you could handle. But you weren't about to let him down now. When you mounted him, he was fully aroused, and you knew taking him fully inside wouldn't be easy. It stung slightly, forcing yourself to stretch to accommodate him, though as you rocked against him, the easier it became.

Stealing a kiss as you wrapped both arms around his neck, you felt him pushing deeper inside, increasing the friction, forcing you to brace all your weight against him as he thrust up.

The feeling of Fritz's teeth biting down harshly on your neck made you wince and mindlessly clench down even harder against him, the sensation only incentivizing him to continue. His mouth biting against sensitive skin, his hips rolling against yours, feeling absolutely feral with lust caught up with you fast, and as you ground against his lap, you felt a dawning climax. You couldn't get enough, wanting to feel him deeper, feel every inch of his body against yours; even as you came, you continued to grind, wanting to ride out your high as long as possible. As Fritz felt you coming on his lap and saw your face awash with pleasure, he felt his heart throb, and as he watched you coming down from your high, he picked up the pace, watching your limp body moving in rhythm with his thrusts as he came deep inside.

Your head felt heavy and fuzzy; the world was still blurry as you felt yourself coming down; carefully, you separated from his dick, trying not to think about the mess you'd made after just cleaning him up. You were too spent to worry or do anything about it, and it didn't seem like Fritz was concerned either, allowing you to sit back down on his lap, securing both arms around your waist, and keeping you from going anywhere.

Even after the two of you managed to catch your breath, neither of you tried to separate; it felt too good to finally have a warm body to hold and feel wrapped around yourself after spending so much time lost and cold in the dark. Now, no amount of noise the unknown malicious creatures made bothered you. So long as you could feel Medic's body under your own, nothing could scare you. He held you tight, like a child holding a teddy bear after awakening from a nightmare, it wasn't painful, but you could tell he was still terrified.

Quietly you spoke, your head still resting against his neck, "Do you really think we're dead?"

Fritz sighed, "I wish I knew." He sounded frail and defenseless. Emotionally devastated but too exhausted to really care. "If this is hell, I know I deserve it."

You buried your head deeper into the crook of his neck, shaking your head, muttering "No, you don't." under your breath. Before now, you hadn't considered this place could be hell; even now, you stubbornly refused to believe it.

"Maybe it's not hell. All this loneliness and wandering in the dark, it feels more like purgatory than hell." You hated how bleak that sounded. Even as you were trying to inspire hope, there was no ignoring the morbid reality of the situation.

Fritz pulled away slightly to face you, his brows furrowed slightly with curiosity. "You think there's a way out?"

"In Paradiso, the souls in purgatory are forced to repent for their sin before entering heaven. Maybe that's how it really is… I guess wandering around, all the fear, could be some kind of penance. " You broke eye contact, looking down, feeling less and less confident with your words the longer you went on.

"So you think there's hope we can get out of here?" Fritz remained still as a statue; you could feel his eyes on you as he spoke.

"Well, yes- but it depends. I mean- people who were less sinful in life usually weren't stuck in purgatory as long as people with more or more severe sins, but I have no idea what to make of anything around here…" You trailed off, feeling awkward, not knowing what to say next, let alone something he wanted to hear.

He huffed, "If you're right, I'll be stuck here for ages. If I ever do, get out."

He finally slackened his arms, letting them fall to his sides, limp as you embraced him. As you remembered all you went through to try and lift his spirits, to give him hope to come home- you couldn't help but feel, despite your best efforts, you failed miserably. He opened his mouth to say something, but you interjected,

"Although, it's been said when the living prays for the souls in purgatory, they progress remarkably faster. No matter the sinner or their sins, there's hope so long as you're in purgatory."

"Redeem ourselves? All I've done is take advantage of you- You shouldn't try to save me; I'm never getting out!" Once again, you could see his eyes water with tears as he clenched them shut. You couldn't bear to watch him cry, rising to a kneeling position and straddling his legs. With one arm around the top of his head and the other around his neck, you gently pulled his head against your body, hugging him tightly into your chest as his shoulders shook with sobs.

It took all your resolve to keep from crying yourself; despite trying to affirm some hope for Fritz, you felt just as helpless. But you consoled yourself, knowing even though you had no idea where the two of you were or how long you would be here, you loved him. That much you knew would never change. With a heavy sigh, you separated from him, sliding down from the pew and kneeling beside him on the stone ground, resting your cheek against his bare legs as you looked up at him. "There's nothing you can do to make me hate you."

He looked forward, staring at nothing in particular, his face unreadable, "Have you ever heard of a soul in purgatory to send another to heaven?"

"I mean, it's possible." Was the best you could answer.

He buried his head in his hands, working his fingers through his hair, "Were you really searching for me the entire time you were awake out there?"

Without hesitating, you answered, "You were the first thing on my mind. I felt so lost and alone; I knew someone needed me. I didn't doubt for a second it would be you."

Fritz didn't appear convinced. "Why didn't you give up after you couldn't find me?"

"You were all I could think about." You answered honestly.

Forcing himself to look at you, Fritz spoke, leaning forward, propping his head up with one hand, pressing his chin against his fist, "If you're right, if we are in purgatory, if you do get to heaven before me- do you promise you'll wait for me?"

Picking your head up from his lap, you straightened, resting your hands on the pew, "For you, I'd wait forever."

He nodded, "For both our sakes, I hope you're right."

Before you could ask what he meant by this, Fritz was leaning over you, close enough to press a quick kiss to your forehead, and only a second to register what he was doing before grabbing your neck in both hands. He tightened his grip with all his strength, making you cough and choke on your saliva in shock as he forced his trembling hands to squeeze even tighter.

You tried to resist for a few pathetic moments as though you were any match for him physically, let alone while he had you like this. You could feel his hands slickening with the sweat which still coated the back of your neck from earlier, though this did nothing to weaken his grip. The pressure made your head pound, completely disorienting you. Despite your continued struggle, you knew you wouldn't have much longer.

You feared it would come to this; Fritz was too far gone to save; he'd abandoned hope before you got to him. There was no way you could've actually managed to bring him home. The best you could do was offer him a moment of pleasure before he forced himself to forge ahead. His hands wrapped around your throat, cutting off your air supply. It hurt like hell, and you couldn't help but instinctively try to claw at his hands and shift your weight back away from him- as though it would do anything to slow him down. Fritz winced, listening to the sound of your choking, though his grip didn't budge.

Fritz couldn't bear to hear the sound of the life leaving your body, the broken, pathetic wheezing and coughing filling the abandoned chapel. He cried, "You said you'd never hate me- you promised you'd always come back for me! I swear I'm only doing this because I love you! And you shouldn't be here! Not with people like me!" Fritz fought hard against his emotions, keeping his hands locked around your throat as tight as possible. His vision was blurred by his own tears. Watching you suffer was agony, but he knew killing you was the greatest mercy he could offer you. He'd do anything to get you out of this terrible place, even if he had to do this over and over again. Fritz swore to himself he would. He was a wretched man. He deserved to be alone with the guilt of what he'd done forever. Your eyes were red and puffy, and you were in too much agony to focus on anything, not even the man trying to end your life.

"Please, please- you'll forgive me for this, won't you?! Tell me you understand!"

It was impossible to respond with his hands around your neck; he knew that, even if you could answer and miraculously tell him precisely what he wanted to hear, it wouldn't alleviate his guilt. All you could do was muster up the last of your dying strength to nod once, doing your best to communicate an "I forgive you." before everything went black.

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