#he says he’s prepared to trade his all might for you that’s how in love with you he is sigh

[kingkatsuki]

I’m still thinking about the OVA but imagine everyone’s collecting the trading cards and trying to get their fave heroes, but no matter how many packs Bakugou opens he can’t seem to get your card.

And he’s trying to trade with Sero, Denki and even Mineta but none of them will trade your card with him. So he’s literally joining all these forums and things online to try and find someone that’ll trade your card to him🥺

[the-californicationist]

The Old Way

Listen... I don't even know what I'm on with this. Just... don't judge me. Omfg what is wrong with me.

AO3 Link -- TW: omegaverse wildness, biting, blood, etc.

Your people are starving, and your clan's Alpha has asked you, their only remaining Omega, to give yourself up as a sacrifice to save them. So, you agree, and you are to be mated to one of the Alphas of Clan 141, praying that it is to any of them except Alpha Price. He is known to have a knot that is impossible to take, but when you finally meet him, you're not sure of what's possible anymore. Will you risk it all to be with him, even if his knot might kill you? One way to find out…

The Old Way

You couldn’t see the stars. The shroud that hung over your head was made from fine, black silk, and through its thin organza, you could barely make out the shape of the Watcher in front of you, much less the glittering galactic expanse overhead. You were wrapped like a gift, and if you wanted to save the lives of everyone you’d ever loved, you would remain cloaked in your darkness, hidden, waiting for your big moment. More than anything, you wanted to pull your veil away from your eyes just to see the familiar constellations again, to comfort yourself with their shapes, to make one last independent choice before all of your volition was stolen from you forever. 

That wasn’t the right word. You couldn’t steal something that was given freely. You were not bound, and you were certainly not forced to wear the shadowed veil against your will. You had selected this path for yourself, and now you were living through the consequences of that decision.

As the only Omega in your clan – the first one born in seventy years – you were raised on the knowledge that you may one day be asked to give up your life for your clan. After the war, life was hard, and now that your people were stuck in a seemingly endless drought, it had become even more desperate. Your clan leader, Alpha Roan, had come to you six weeks ago with a terrible look in his eyes, a palpable guilt, still wearing his mourning collar for his long-lost mate, Omega Kiran, and he had asked you if you would be willing to undergo The Exchange.

His own wife had come to your clan through The Exchange, and although they had chosen to perform a private ceremony, you knew that it had been a challenge for her. Before she died, she had taught you much about your role, but you were still a youngling, and some things were just not for you to hear at such an age. 

You thought about the years that had passed after the loss of your clan’s Omega. Alpha Roan had insisted on your education, and your training, but the idea that you would be asked to leave your clan through The Exchange was always a distant threat. But, now, here it was. You had been called by your Alpha to sacrifice yourself for their benefit; not in a marriage of love, but in a clan trade. 

You had been asked by your Alpha to think about your choice. After he left you to ponder your choice, you sat down in your chambers surrounded by your Watchers, the women who had raised you, who had taught you to read, to write, to fight, and to charm. They looked at you with the same guilty, knowing eyes, and they asked you if you were prepared to make the sacrifice. 

“You do know what awaits you at the end of The Exchange, don’t you, Omega?” Watcher Trinity had asked you quietly, holding your hands in her shaking fingers, the wrinkled skin of her knuckles folding and stretching over her thin bones. 

You nodded, “Yes, Watcher. I am to be given to a new Alpha.”

She had looked at you then, her eyes sharp and calculating, trying to figure out how she would ask her next question.   

“Do you know the way in which you will be given, Omega?” 

Her tone chilled your heart, sinking through your body like ice across a pond, freezing you in place. You waited. There was more that she needed to say, and you allowed her to explain. 

And now that you knew the truth, you felt fully prepared to accept the terms of the agreement. You would deliver your people from their strife, and any pain, any shame, and any horror that you experienced from this point onward would be in service to your clan. You hoped that would be enough solace to sustain you. There was no shame in your sacrifice, you knew that. But, in your soul, you knew that knowing a thing and experiencing a thing were two vastly disparate sides of the same coin. 

You informed your clan Alpha, holding your chin high, 

“I accept the terms of The Exchange, Alpha Roan.”

“Your people are forever in your debt, Omega. Watchers,” he addressed your caregivers, “Please make preparations in the old way of our clan.”

“The old way, Alpha Roan?” Watcher Trinity had asked, her voice giving away her apprehension.

“Yes, Watcher. We will follow the law, no matter how… upsetting it may be. Clan 141 is too powerful for us to take any undue risks. If they do not accept her, we may not survive their engagement.”

Even in your sheltered little academy, you had heard of Clan 141. Their clan was small, but it was deeply feared. If any other clan dared step out of line, the 141 were there to rain hellfire and destruction down on them until there was nothing left. They were not cruel, but they abided no violent acts in their territory, and any whisper of rekindling the war efforts or of superseding the peace treaty was dealt with swiftly and decisively. 

Before the war, kings and presidents and generals had pulled the strings. Now that the world lay in ruins, the 141 was the only thing between your small clan and total destruction from larger, more aggressive packs. The 141 was the only reason your people still had other clans to trade with; they had made sure smaller communities had access to fair market costs for food and services, and no one dared to shun your merchants now that you were under their protective wing. 

Your Watchers had done their best to ease you into your preparations. Clan 141 would be at the neutral ground in six weeks, and your team had tried to make every moment of that window meaningful in your training. They had started slowly, teaching you to stretch your untouched hole with your fingers, showing you diagrams and depictions of your own anatomy, warning you of the physical trial of taking an Alpha’s knot. 

It was mortifying when you endured your first test. Watcher Gillar and Watcher Bhin had made you sit in front of a mirror and show them your progress. You were told to clench and release the muscles of your hole on command, fluttering it to prove its strength. Then, they had produced a carved, glass phallus, expecting you to practice on a smaller model before moving you up to a more advanced size. 

You took it from their hands, looking at its curved, rigid shape with wide-eyed curiosity, trying to swallow your grief at being seen doing the unthinkable by people you considered to be your closest friends and caregivers. It almost made you regret your decision. But, your people needed you, so you rested the smooth tip of the phallus at the entrance of your hole and began to shove it inside of yourself. 

This new feeling was overwriting your mind, so alien and yet so very comforting to you, confounding in its sensations yet overwhelming in its unique, bright pleasure.

It was a struggle, but you managed to slip it into your body almost down to the large, bulbous knot on the end. The sharp pain of being entered for the first time was not as terrible as you had feared, but when you pulled the phallic rod back out of you, it was cloudy with your slick and your blood. 

“Try the knot, Omega. Your Alpha will be twice as large as this, at least. You do not want your first experience to be at the ceremony. I know that you will want to appear strong in front of the other clans.” Watcher Bhin encouraged you, holding you to her shoulder as she sat behind you, trying her best to comfort you through such a harrowing ordeal. 

You put their practice cock back inside of you, slipping down further than you had, feeling the wide anatomy pressing against your entrance, but still unable to take the full knot inside. You pushed and pulled with your muscles, just like your Watchers had taught you, but it wouldn’t budge. You were panting, sweating, and teetering on the edge of an embarrassing orgasm in front of your Watchers, and you gasped out, exasperated, 

“I can’t. I don’t think I can do this, Watcher.”

“Lay back, Omega. I will help you,” Watcher Gillar said softly, replacing your hand with hers at the base of the phallus. 

You lay down on your back against your soft pillows, trying to avoid your Watchers’ pitying eyes. Then, you felt a cool gel being applied around the sore ring of your hole; something to ease the way since there was no true Alpha present to coax your slick from your glands. Watcher Bhin had held your hand in hers, gripping you tightly, letting you squeeze her through the pain, wiping away your tears as the glass bulb of the pretend knot began to split you, stretching your body before finally popping into place.

You Watchers had comforted you for a few minutes, but then you were told to begin your meditations.

With much difficulty, you sat up, feeling the heavy knot nestled against your walls. Then, Watcher Bhin handed you a firm pillow, and you understood that you must straddle it, and that it would push the knot against you. You were to train your body and your mind to accept it so that you would have the stamina to withstand the ceremony. 

“Do not be afraid to listen to your body, Omega. We will return to help you remove it and recover. I will light some incense for you. Concentrate on your strength.”

You nodded, uncrossing your legs and settling yourself over the firm pillow, feeling the deep, sacral grind of the phallus as you set your weight against it. When you were left alone, you began your breathing techniques, but all the while, a flush was rushing across your skin, the shadow of a rising desire to come, and yet subtly different. Something whispered in your mind, and you wondered if you could call your slick down yourself, without an Alpha’s help. 

So, you tried, rocking back and forth across the pillow, churning the knot within your core, feeling the rounded tip rubbing against your deepest parts. You removed your robes, letting the flush keep you warm, watching yourself in the tall mirror, meeting your own eyes. 

It took only minutes before a true orgasm was upon you, but you tried to hold it at bay, searching through the sparkling, cracking fog of pleasure for the part of you that made you special. No Beta would survive a knotting; they never did, and it was a crime to even try. But, you were meant for it, and you knew that your Watchers’ training would not let you down. You breathed through the bliss, reaching out with your mind towards your slick, imagining it, visualizing your success, manifesting it deep within you. 

When the Watchers found you later that night, they woke you with cool rags and worried faces,

“What happened, Omega? How did you…” Watcher Gillar looked down at your bare legs to where the pillow sat under you, seeing a torrent of slick and milky come covering your skin and the silk of the bolster, confused by how you could produce it without an Alpha’s beckoning call. It was just not done, not even considered to be a possibility. 

After that night, there was much chatter amongst the Watchers. They consulted old tomes, dusting off the pages in the library of your little academy where you trained far away from the rest of your village, kept up here in your tower like a Delphic oracle, buried like a treasure. 

The training became more intense, and each practice phallus that your Watchers produced became harder and heavier, each bearing knots that were unfathomably large. You used your newfound power to face each of your challenges, less ashamed now to perform in front of your team, but knowing that the ceremony would be something else entirely. 

You had asked about it one night as your Watchers were helping you bathe after a particularly difficult practice session, 

“Will there truly be none absent from the ceremony, Watcher Trinity?”

“Only the cubs and their mothers are forbidden from attending. Otherwise, all clan members are obligated to witness The Exchange. We will even invite Clan Farlight and Clan Seres to the feast as a token of goodwill. You know this, Omega,” her tone was a little impatient, wondering why you were asking such a basic question, “Your Alpha has asked for your ceremony to be conducted in the old way, according to the original scrolls.” 

“I am worried that I will dishonor you with my abilities. I cannot seem to take even these false knots without tears,” you repeated the old scripture, chanting it rote to your Watcher just as you used to do when you had started your adult training, “Omegas are vessels. They will silently submit. The ceremony will be still, honoring the sacrifice.”

Watcher Trinity knelt down beside your bath and made you look at her. Her eyes softened, and she told you,

“Yes, that is what is written, but it is not that simple. You have already honored us with your sacrifice. We have no grain. We have skinny, milkless goats, and our well is nearly dry. When we feast after your ceremony, the full bellies of your people will mean so much more than any perceived weakness that you are reluctant to show.” She grabbed your hand out of the warm water, holding it in hers, “If you need to cry, we will understand, and we will be comforting you from the crowd. Trust me, Omega.”

You tried to put it all out of your mind as you marched down the path, following behind your Watchers as they surrounded you, adorned in their own ceremonial garb. They had worn their armor and their long, red robes, carrying huge, black scythes like walking sticks, as was the custom of your clan. Your Alpha was walking in the front of your pack, guiding your clan to the meeting point. You could just see the white, canvas tops of the tents and yurts that had been constructed for the ceremony, meant to house hundreds of people for at least three days. Yours was the biggest, its adornment the most splendid. But that was little comfort to your frayed nerves. 

You were miles from home at this point, missing the comfort of your room and your books, knowing that you would never return there, and that perhaps your new Alpha would not allow you to keep any of your belongings from your old life. 

You’d heard horror stories from some of the Betas in your clan, tales of Alphas who used their Omegas like slaves, keeping them clad in irons, surviving in dark dungeons only to be used to breed and to give their Alphas carnal pleasure. 

While you were being prepared for this journey, a pair of Beta women had helped you paint your skin, drawing intricate symbols and prayers in gold flake, chittering about the ceremony and the feast without knowing what you had been through over the past six weeks.

“This is the first time I will witness a ceremony done in the old way,” Beta Lilia said. 

“Do you know which Alpha will claim you?” Lilia’s friend, Beta Tyran, asked you, not knowing how loaded her words were.

You shook your head; you didn’t even know how many Alphas belonged to Clan 141. Lilia gushed about them for you, taking the conversation out of your hands,

“Clan 141 has four Alphas! Can you imagine? I hear that they have an entire army of Omegas as well. Alpha Garrick is so handsome, and he has three gorgeous Omegas. They are almost too beautiful to look upon.. I saw him when I was at the central market once. He was leading a team, hunting the vagabonds who set fire to a farmer’s field, you remember when that happened? It was years ago now. He was so imposing. But, that other one was there, too.” 

She made a face that was strong enough to make you ask about it,

“Which one?”

“The Ghost, Alpha Riley. They say that no one has seen his face. He wears a terrifying skull mask. I heard from Yair that he has three Omegas as his guards, all masked as well. Yes! Guards! They have armor and weapons and huge, bulging muscles. Beautiful and lethal –”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beta Tyran interrupted, “No one would give their Omegas weapons. No one would let their Omegas out in the public markets! Imagine the danger.”

Lilia shrugged, “Yair said that these Omegas were the danger.” 

Then, you heard about Alpha MacTavish, a descendant from one of the ancient warlords, charming and fearsome. He kept two Omegas as his brides, always pregnant, but almost as fearsome as Alpha Riley’s guards. Alpha MacTavish often expected them to travel with their Beta friends, to take their children up into the mountains, hunting and fishing and exploring outdoors. All sorts of stories about his large, loving family. You silently hoped you would be claimed by him. It would be nice to live amongst Omegas and their cubs. 

“Which one is their Apex Alpha? There must be one in a clan with so many Alphas,” you mused, asking the girls since you did not know much about Clan 141 yourself.

The Betas shared a look, and then Lilia shook her head,

“You will not be claimed by him, Omega. Don’t worry.”

“Why?” You pried, using your influence to force her to tell you.

“His name is Alpha Price, the leader of Clan 141. He’s the deadliest man in the entire land, and he’s the one who destroyed Clan Konni.”

The weight of that news sank in, and the dramatic tone of her story had attracted other Betas and Watchers to gather around you to listen to her tale, 

“Alpha Price has never claimed an Omega. They say that he had tried. He had found one of Alpha Garrick’s Omegas to be very pretty, but she tried to take his knot and failed, so Alpha Garrick took her under his protection instead.”

“Failed?” Watcher Bhin asked, shocked by the implication. 

“My sister was a medic who served with the Alliance in the most recent skirmish, and the 141 helped defeat the rebels who were killing members of Clan Darrah a few years ago. She said that she served under the doctor who had healed Alpha Garrick’s Omega. Said he’d never seen anything like it before in his life. She was so strong, and yet…”

Lilia’s words hung heavy in the air, and all of the women looked at each other and then at you, suddenly feeling the weight of your sacrifice, ashamed at their earlier levity. Tyran shook her head and patted you on the arm, 

“Don’t worry. Alpha Price will not claim you. You have nothing to worry about.”

That night, painted gold and covered in your black silks, you sat in your tent and meditated while you waited for the other clans to arrive. Your mind kept wandering to Alpha Price and his lonely existence. Had he really injured an Omega during his claiming of her? How large must his knot have been to do so? It made you shudder to think about it, and yet deep inside of you, your core warmed from the thought. If he imprinted on you…

But, imprinting was just a myth. Something only written in old texts as a footnote or a story. It was a part of the ritual of The Exchange, but it wasn’t real. 

“Omega,” Watcher Trinity interrupted your meditation and peeked her head into your tent, “It is time to present The Cloth.”

Clan 141 was here, then. 

The ritual of The Exchange began with The Shroud, which you were already wearing. Then, it was The Cloth. If all went well, it would then be The Meeting. And finally, The Ceremony.

The Cloth was a gift from the Omega to her new Alpha, a token of her affection and a chance for him to smell her scent for the first time. In ancient legends, this is when her true mate would imprint upon her, her Omegan scent bringing out his Alphic marks, dark spots or stripes across his neck and back, making him look like a big cat, ready to bite into her neck and claim her as his own. 

She tried to shake herself out of that fantasy world. All she could hope was that one of their Alphas would be drawn to her scent enough to accept her. Her people were depending on her.

“Here is your cloth, Omega. I embroidered it myself. I hope that it honors you,” Watcher Trinity handed you a wooden box, carved and adorned with great care, and when you opened it, you found a red silk square of fabric, sewn with the sigils and symbols of your clan in fine gold thread. You smiled up at your Watcher and reached out to hold her in your arms,

“It’s perfect, Watcher. Thank you for caring for me.”

You were both fighting off tears when she finally pulled away. You hoped that your Alpha would at least let you say goodbye after the ceremony, even if you might never see her again. 

Watcher Trinity and all of the other women left you alone again in your tent, giving you privacy to prepare The Cloth. You made yourself naked, and you began to rub the silk across your neck and glands, trying to soak your scent into the piece. Then, you wiped it between your legs, swiping up some of your wetness to coat the fabric. Usually, this would be enough. You could call your Watcher back into the tent and give her the box, and you would be done. 

But, something in your heart told you to try to call out your slick. You listened to your instincts, and you began to rub the soft fabric against your folds, bringing your own pleasure to a warm, shining height. Just when you thought you might not be able to do it, that your nervousness would make it too difficult or that you might black out again from the effort, you felt something inside of you slip free. Then, your hole was flooded, the orgasm making your vision go blurry and form spots at the edges, your whole body convulsing from the strength of your pleasure, and you had to lay down just to try and stay awake through your gushing bliss. 

You felt it coat the silk and your hand, a thick, milky slick, and your heart swelled with pride. You knew that a gift this special would sway the attention of at least one of their Alphas. You trusted in your skills and training that you were worthy of this ceremony and that your people would be saved. 

Sitting up, you carefully opened the box and returned The Cloth to its resting place, soaked with your scent. You took time to clean yourself up, stuffing wet blankets into your laundry packs and hiding them away, remaking your nest before your Watcher would know what you had done. You weren’t sure why you were keeping a secret from them, but you just felt like this was something between you and your Alpha. A promise, of sorts. 

You replaced your black silks and veil over your otherwise unclothed body and called your Watchers. They entered your tent along with Alpha Roan. 

His eyes widened as he approached you, taking the box from your hands. Quietly, as if knowing that this was an extremely private affair, he whispered to you, 

“What have you done, little Omega?”

“I am doing what needs to be done, Alpha. Please, deliver my message to my new Master.”

You use of the ancient terminology caught your clan Alpha off guard, but you were glad of it. If this was to be done in the old way, then you would withstand it, but you would also do it your way. You were the Omega, here, and you were the reason your clan would survive this struggle. It was time you started acting like the heroine that you were. You would be your people’s strength, no matter the cost.

“Very well,” Alpha Roan sighed, closing the box, calling out to your team, “Watchers, bring your Omega to The Cloth ritual.”

You were guided to the path again, leaving your tent behind and walking towards the big, outdoor theater. It was a crude coliseum of sorts, a large circular pit lined with rows and rows of carved seating that was cut into the land. People had already begun to line the viewing platforms, each clan decorated in their traditional garb. You felt proud to see the stripe of red where your people sat, holding each others’ hands and praying for your safe arrival. 

You were not greeted with raucous applause but instead with reverent silence. Alpha Roan walked in front of your Watchers, and you were the last one into the theater, dressed only in your sheer shroud, trying your best not to feel self-conscious about the fact that - because of the firelight - everyone could see your naked, painted body through the veil, even though you were covered head to toe in the organza. In the tent, the lighting was low and kept you in darkness, hiding your body under the thin silk. But, not here in the theater. Your skin was illuminated by the torches, and you knew that even your friends and neighbors could now see your most private parts. 

You made sure that your face did not give away your lingering shame. 

Alpha Roan took center stage, and you saw the Alphas of Clan 141 for the first time. 

Alpha MacTavish was standing between his two Omegas, and you mused that his oldest children must have stayed behind to care for his cubs. He was dressed in his Clan’s black gear, covered in armor like a gladiator, his head shaven into a mohawk, spiked and messy on the crown of his head. His body was huge and stocky, and the Omegas seated at his sides looked so tiny compared to his bulk. But, they were strong. Their bellies were round with the promise of future cubs, and their skin and hair glowed like the stars. 

Alpha Garrick stood next to him, his Omegas seated together to his right, dressed in the finest robes you had ever seen. He clearly had a type, and you thought that they looked like triplets, all decorated in jewels and gold, riches you’d never even dreamt of. Their Alpha was every bit as handsome as the stories had promised. He had pouty, full lips that were curled in a snarky sort of smile, and his soft brown eyes exuded pure confidence. His hands were wide and powerful, resting on his curved blade that lay sheathed at his hip. 

Alpha Riley was masked, as you had been told, as were his Omegas. They were not seated, and every bit of armor that was strapped to his hulking body was also strapped to them. They had glittering knives, bows, arrows, and slings, looking like they could win their own war by themselves. Their bodies were heavily muscled, and all four of them seemed as tall as Alpha MacTavish, standing proudly in leather boots. 

Then, you saw Alpha Price. He was holding a large wooden stick, at least seven feet tall, with hundreds of notches sliced into the side. You wondered what he was keeping track of, and you shuddered to know. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair was cut high and tight on the sides. He was certainly bigger and better muscled than each of his men, but that was not what you noticed about him first. It was his eyes. They were piercingly blue, like glacial ice, and they were looking right at you. Hungry. 

Something inside of your core tightened under his scrutiny, but Alpha Roan’s voice shook you from your trance,

“Clan Arlos welcomes Clan 141 to The Exchange. We present you with our offering, an unmated Omega, 26 years of age, fully trained in the old ways of our people. She is our greatest gift, and we ask for your acceptance of our sacrifice.”

Alpha Roan held up the box with The Cloth inside for all to see. He set it on the large, marble altar in the middle of the stage and backed away from it, waiting for the other Alphas to take part in the ritual. 

Alpha Price spoke, and your body nearly trembled at the sound of his deep, purring voice. You were more nervous than you thought, and you tried to breathe to manage yourself. 

“We will consider your honorable offering, Clan Arlos.”

With that, he slammed his huge stick against the stony ground and Alpha MacTavish stepped up to the altar. He opened the box, and along with the other Alphas in attendance, his body had a visceral reaction. His hands went to touch the cloth and he brought it to his nose, smelling your scent with a sort of wonder and amazement. 

Then, to your great relief, he raised his hand, palm outward, as a show of his acceptance of your scent. If you accepted him as well, you would be mated. 

But, the slamming sound of the stick shook you out of your celebrations. Alpha Price called up Alpha Garrick. 

This was most unusual. Typically, only one Alpha had to agree. It wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter. Even if Alpha MacTavish’s scent did not stir your heart, you would still submit to him as expected. This was not a marriage of love but of convenience. 

MacTavish looked back over his shoulder at Price, just as shocked as you were. His Omegas looked even more taken aback, strangely offended that you would not automatically join them. But, Alpha MacTavish returned the cloth to the box and made room for Garrick, disappointed and visibly confused. 

Alpha Garrick opened the box and buried his face against The Cloth, breathing in once, twice, and then tasting the fabric, right in front of everyone. It was his right, but it was a little audacious. 

His palm went up, high in the air, and his Omegas smiled and held each other’s hands, excited at your acceptance. 

Another loud slam. Another rejection. 

You may still end up with MacTavish or Garrick after negotiations, you remembered, but you were now wondering why Alpha Price had chosen to test you against all three of his men before making a decision. It was very odd. Alpha Roan looked greatly concerned. 

Alpha Riley approached the altar, his gloved hands prying open the box, then, he lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal his mouth and nose. The slightest murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. He bent to smell your scent, and he raised his hand in the air, signaling his acceptance before replacing his mask. You thought you caught the hint of a smile just before his pale lips disappeared beneath the skull plate again. 

Slam! The stick pounded against the floor.

All of Clan 141 turned to look at Alpha Price at once. Your heart stopped. Why would he… Why would Alpha Price want to undergo The Cloth ritual himself? He had no Omega. Surely, he wouldn’t claim you now, not after what had happened. You watched Alpha Garrick’s Omegas. One of them stared at Alpha Price with wide, glossy eyes. You thought that it must be his prior candidate for a mate. She was afraid for you. They were all afraid.

All eyes were on Alpha Price as he approached the altar, and the entire theater was silent as he took The Cloth in his hands. He lay it out flat, in no rush, inspecting the wet stain that you had left for him, using his thumb to feel the fine, gold embroidery. Then, his eyes darted up to yours. He was the first one to look at you while he held The Cloth to his nose, that icy gaze making you tremble with anticipation. 

You were so lost in his eyes that you didn’t see what was stirring the crowd. There was a loud gasp and then an explosion of whispers. You looked around, trying to understand what was happening. Then, when he tucked The Cloth into his breast pocket, keeping you for himself, you saw it. 

Long, red lines began to stain his skin like lightning. All of his veins tattooed themselves across his neck, and although his armor was covering his shoulders, you knew that the marks would be there as well. 

Alpha Price had imprinted for you. 

Then, he silenced the crowd by raising his right hand, palm up, staring at you the entire time. 

You were whisked away, surrounded by your Watchers, hearing Alpha Roan’s voice behind you, sounding like protest, but you couldn’t make out the words. Compared to the initial silence, the area erupted in a shattering din, clans shouting and yelling over each other, the drama from the ritual dividing the people. 

You thought you would be taken back to your tent, but you were brought to a large lake about five hundred yards from the theater. It was quiet again. No one was allowed to follow you here, it seemed. 

Watcher Trinity tried to explain in a rushed whisper, helping you climb into a boat and rowing you out to the middle of the lake,

“There is a dispute for your claiming. Alpha Roan will negotiate new terms, and Clan 141 must decide who will be your Alpha. It will be alright, Omega. It’ll be alright.”

She sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than you.

“What now?”

“Because there is not just one Alpha who has claimed you, they will undergo a ritual called The Trial. It is a fight; a test of will. Whichever Alpha can win will be granted the right to appeal to you first. If you reject him, then you will be given a chance to hear the appeal from the second.”

“So, it will be up to me, then?”

“Yes. Alpha Price has put the choice in your hands. Very odd, and not in our custom, but we must honor his wishes. You will wait here for the winner.”

You looked around. You were now in the middle of the lake, and there was a platform lingering just below the water. It was a wide stone block, about three meters wide in each direction. Watcher Trinity helped you out of the boat and you stepped tentatively onto the platform. 

“Will you wait with me?” You asked, feeling the uncertainty and fear finally get the better of you. 

“No, my Omega. I cannot. These waters are forbidden to Betas. Only Alphas and Omegas can touch it. Take this. It is your flare. If you are in trouble, if he tries to get to you, fire it high into the sky and we will rescue you. You can do this. I know you are strong. Wait patiently for your Alpha,” she paused, grabbing your hand, “I realize you are doing this for us, but please, follow your heart.”

“I will, Watcher.” 

So, you waited. You meditated, standing in an inch of cool lake water as you tried to commune with the land around you. And you waited some more. Hours passed until, finally, you saw torches. Your Watchers lined one side of the lake, and they greeted the newcomers. Then, you saw him. Alpha Price was being stripped down by your Watchers. They took his weapons from him, and then his clothes, making him naked on the shoreline. He craned his neck, trying to look for you in the lake, but it was dark and you were dressed in black. 

You could see him just fine, though. His huge body was covered in short, curly hair, dense and dark against his skin. His muscles bulged and popped as he peeled away his layers of clothing. They left his undergarments on, little more than a linen loincloth. Then, you saw your Watchers attach a huge, metal collar around his neck. They clamped it together with a padlock in the back, and a huge chain was attached at the latch. 

They bound his hands, chaining them together, and then loaded him into the boat. They rowed toward you with his back facing the platform, and as he got closer, you saw his imprint markings, red and raised like jagged scars across his neck and shoulders. Your scent had marked him permanently. The welts would go down, and the red would fade, but it would always be there, evidence of his imprinting. 

The boat reached you, and he climbed out of it, sitting on the opposite side of the platform from you, just far enough to be out of range for your scent. 

His eyes found yours again, staring at you through your veil, finding your gaze with a natural ease. He held a small box in his hands, and you thought you saw the phantom of a smile across his lips as you looked over his face. 

The boat rowed to shore, dragging the long chain all the way back, and you were alone with him. It was quiet for a long while. You were just staring at each other, studying each other, trapped in a silent battle. 

You looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time his cut, bloody knuckles, and he saw the worry cross over your eyes.

“They’re fine,” he said quietly, “My men. If that’s what you were wondering.”

“But, you triumphed over them, clearly,” you replied, not trusting your own voice. 

He chuckled a bit, sighing, 

“I did.”

“You fought for me, then.”

The laughing stopped, and he lifted his chin, proudly, 

“I did.”

“And you are here for my acceptance.”

He didn’t respond to your cue, but instead, he took the box in his hands and slid it across the platform, skittering it along the surface of the water, making little splashes as it landed in front of you. 

You reached for it, opening it up to reveal a shining key. 

“Throw it in the lake,” he commanded you, using his Alpha’s voice to bend your will. 

It shocked you, and you were so close to obeying, but you stopped, cutting your eyes at him,

“What is this?”

“Throw. It. Omega.”

His voice seared through your blood, calling to you with old magic. You fought hard to keep your mind under your own control, 

“Stop! Stop it. Tell me what this is, Alpha.”

“It unlocks my collar. Otherwise, if I make so much as a shift in your direction that they don’t like,” his head turned to look back toward your watchers, “They will pull me into the lake, and I will drown.”

“And if I unlock it…”

“Then, you will be my mate,” his tone turned vitriolic then, “And you will die.”

You let his words sink in, your curiosity overcoming your fear,

“You believe your knot cannot be taken.”

He spat back, 

“My belief is not –”

“But, it’s not up to you,” you interrupted him, “Is it?”

The shock that washed over his bright eyes filled you with a sort of sick satisfaction. You should be afraid of him, but your roles were reversed out here on this rock, and you were holding him under your command. 

“Toss that key, girl. MacTavish fought hard for you. He’ll care for you. He’s a good man.”

“Are you a good man?”

“No,” he growled, his eyes dropping to the water, examining the chains around his own hands, inspecting them for the bloodstains that he obviously thought should be there. 

“I am here for my people, Alpha Price. I am not looking for a husband. I am a resource to be traded for other resources. My clan needs The Exchange. Our people are starving, and I –”

“I would not let them starve,” Price’s eyes shot back up, indignant that you would suggest that he would leave you and your clan without food or water. 

You let yourself smile slightly, teasing him, 

“Spoken like a good man.”

He twisted his lips over his teeth, but he stayed quiet. You continued to torment him, 

“Why did you raise your hand for me?”

He sighed, sitting forward, sloping his shoulders toward you,

“I couldn’t help it. My Alpha…He…” He paused, searching for the words, “I could smell you through the box. I knew you from the moment I saw you walk through the arena. And when my men all raised their hands for you, I knew you would be accepted as our Clan Omega. You are mine in every way that matters. And I cannot have you.”

His voice was full of bitterness. You wanted to smell him. What were the chances that he was your true mate? One-sided imprinting was rare, but true mates were one in a million. 

You stood, surprising him, and he jolted back, sitting up right. The chain around his wrists clattering. You looked over at the shoreline. Your Watchers held the long chain around his neck, heavy and sagging into the black water, ready to yank it tight if he lunged for you, if he fell prey to his Alphic instinct to breed you. 

He watched you approach, seeing how the water rippled with every step you took, gazing upon the dripping silks that clung to your legs, devouring you with his eyes. You stopped in front of his crossed legs, Knowing that he could smell you now. Your pussy was shielded only with a few layers of silk, and you watched him flare his nose, sniffing you right in front of his face, blowing a slow exhale of air through his lips, making the organza billow between your legs. 

“Can I smell your scent, Alpha?” You whispered, your voice slicing through the silence of the still lake. 

His chains clattered as he twisted his head to look up at you, peeling his eyes away from your pretty pussy to meet your gaze. Then, he bent his head to one side, giving you his neck, showing you his scent gland, a sea of red stripes emanating from its center. 

You bent over him, closing the gap, steadying yourself by laying a gentle hand on his huge shoulder. Then, you took a long pause and breathed him in. His scent swirled through your body, wrecking your other senses. It was only him. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Your Alpha. Your mate. Your true mate. 

You felt the red marks of your imprint streak across your skin, and his eyes widened in shock as he saw them branch through your veins and across your gland just as his had done. 

The click of a lock made his eyes flash back to you, and with that movement, his heavy collar tumbled into the lake, the drag of the chain singing as it scraped the side of the platform. 

“What have you done, my Omega?” Price breathed. 

It was the second time you’d been asked that question. Your response was still the same:

“I am doing what needs to be done, Master. I am giving myself to you, my true mate.”

The boats were in the water the moment the collar slipped from his neck. The Watchers were on you in moments, and Price’s Beta soldiers were there to collect him. You watched as they rowed you two apart, taking you back to your camps to prepare for the ceremony. 

Your Watchers were in a rush. There were only a few hours until sunrise. Your wet robes were switched out for red ones, and a red veil adorned your head. Underneath, you were rubbed and painted and sprayed with oils, until finally, Watcher Trinity came forward with a bowl of salve. She had made it herself, you could tell. She cared for you so deeply. 

“I trust you, Omega. I know you know what you’re doing. But, please take this. It will help your muscles relax for him, and it will make it easier to bring on your natural defenses.”

She was being coy, avoiding using the word to refer to your slick, knowing that you had your own method of calling it forth using your special power. But, you took it from her anyway, and after you were left alone again to meditate, you used two fingers to massage it into your hole, feeling its effects begin to warm you, making your flesh supple and pliant. 

A hand curled around your tent flap, pulling it open. Instead of your Watcher, you saw one of Garrick’s Omegas. It was her, the one who had failed to take your Alpha’s knot.

She stepped inside,

“May I speak with you?”

You nodded, motioning for her to sit,

“Yes, but I’m afraid I already know what you are about to say.”

Her eyes widened, 

“If you know, then why have you accepted this? Alpha MacTavish was his second. He is not to your liking? His Omegas are kind and –”

“No, they were all to my liking. I am eager to join your pack in whichever way I can, but Alpha Price is my true mate.”

You showed her your skin from under the red silks, knowing she could not see them through the red of the veil. She gaped at them, 

“Your… true mate? He could… This could kill you, Omega. I don’t want to see you come to harm, and it would destroy him. I saw how he was after my accident. I nearly blamed myself for his deep sorrow.”

“I trust my training, Omega, and I am so grateful for your support, but he is my mate. What is meant to happen to me, will.” You stood with her, seeing your Watchers hovering just outside the tent, signaling them that you were ready to leave. 

“Then, I trust you as well. The others are so excited to meet you. I wish you an easy path, and I hope your ceremony is just as you want it to be. After this, you will be our Clan Omega, and I will serve you until the end of my days.”

She kissed your cheek through your veil and left you to be delivered back to the altar. 

For a long time, you had wondered if this final walk away from your pack would be a sad one. You expected every step to be filled with hesitation and fear. But, the only thing you felt was joy. Your mate awaited you at the end of this long path, and you were ready to submit to him. He was worthy of your strength, and he would help you deliver your people from danger. You would rule beside him, helping him use the 141 for good, eradicating the evil from your land. 

The sun’s pink wash was rising out of the horizon line just as you reached the theater. The crowd was silent again, and you saw the pallor and shock painted on all of their faces. They were expecting a funeral instead of a feast. They had no idea why anyone would be so desperate as to sacrifice their only Omega to this Alpha, especially when it was not necessary. But, they didn’t realize that you were no prisoner. You were no one’s puppet. You were in charge, here, and your Alpha would breed you as you commanded him to. 

Your Watchers led you to the altar, kissing your hands through the thin cloth as they passed you to take their seats near Clan Arlos, tears in their eyes and staining their cheeks, and finally, your clan Alpha approached you.

“Alpha Roan,” you greeted him. 

“Little Omega,” he smiled, kissing your hands just as your Watchers had done. He didn’t need to, but it was his way of showing everyone that he trusted your choice, “I hope you know what you are doing.”

“I do,” you said, smiling at him through your red silk veil. 

Then, Alpha Price’s men came through the center of the theater, each of them bending to kiss your hands. But, instead of the back of your knuckles, they turned them over to kiss your palms, a sign that they would accept what you had to give them. Alpha Riley was first, and he lifted his mask to show you his mouth and chin, his kiss warm and tender against your skin. Then, Alpha Garrick knelt down, placing multiple kisses along your fingers and wrists, displaying his loyalty and respect. Finally, Alpha MacTavish knelt before you, daring to whisper to you as he kissed your palms, 

“Brave lass.”

You used your thumb to pet his lip, acknowledging his trust in you. 

Then, it was time for the Omegas to join you. They approached as a unit, not individually as their Alphas had done, and they helped you lay on the altar, guiding your body back onto the marble platform. They pulled at your silks, allowing the crowd to see your naked body, painted in fine brushes of intricate gold designs, of prayers and songs of your people, their symbols adorning you from neck to toe. Finally, they began to kiss you, licking and sucking at your mouth like lovers, showing their devotion to you as their clan Omega. 

As they kissed you, your skin began to flush hot, your body somehow knowing what was about to happen to you. The Omegas felt your fire against their lips, and they pulled your legs apart, each of them bending to lick and suck at your flower’s drooling petals, slurping and sucking up your creamy nectar. They were at your breasts, your neck, your belly, your hands and feet. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, shaking and trembling under their affection, yet moved by their deep loyalty. You knew you would be safe with them. They would care for you just as your clan had done. 

Then, you heard the familiar slam of a longstaff. Your Alpha had arrived. 

According to the ceremony, you were meant to be still and silent as a showing of your acceptance. If you moved or cried out in any way, you risked a clan war, as taking a mate without their consent was a dark offense. You had to prove to your people that you were here of your own free will, and even though you were feeling the static cling of apprehension beginning to worm its way into your chest, you tried to breathe through it, trusting your Alpha to lead you through this moment with his protective power. 

Your legs were lowered to the stirrup-style rests that were carved just below the stone table, keeping your knees wide apart, allowing your pussy to drip openly, glistening with the beginnings of your slick. You calmed yourself as they left you alone, each of them kissing you softly once more to show their reverence. 

Then, you heard the clatter of fallen armor. He was undressing, removing his warlord’s mantle and coming to you fully bare. You spotted him between the vee of your legs as he approached the dais, his imprint marks flushed a deep wine red, his body shining with the traditional oils, meant to give him another layer of aphrodisiacs, promoting his production of his seed, keeping his cock tall and hard. 

But, you knew that your imprint on his gland would do more than all of their drugs combined. He would kill every last person in this arena to get to you at this point, and although you had consented to this joining, you were no longer controlling it. He would take you, no matter what. 

Then, when he got close enough to your platform, you saw it. It was standing proudly against his thick, furry belly, dripping with precome and lubricants, glittering in the rising sun. His cock was immense. You had not practiced on one so large. And his knot was larger than your two fists pressed together. He was intact, and his foreskin was slipping down his flushed head, unable to contain the swelling glans. Your body threatened to quiver from your suspense, and you tried to move your mind into your meditative trance. 

As he approached, he did not go straight for his position between your legs. Instead, he walked around the front of the marble platform and bent to look you in your eyes, leaning his head down for a deep, heady kiss. He fed you his tongue and suckled on yours, letting it writhe inside of his mouth, rubbing against his own probing muscle.

He pulled away to gaze upon you, his eyes soft and full of joy. You smiled up at him, watching as he enjoyed the rest of your body, caressing your breasts, admiring your paintings. 

“Did my clan show you their loyalty, my Omega?”

“Yes, Master,” you answered quietly. 

“Are you prepared for me to show you mine?”

“Yes, Master. I am,” you replied, giving him a brave face despite the absolute weapon that was slobbering for you against his belly. You wanted to taste it, but now was not the time. 

He returned to the base of your platform, kneeling in front of your wet hole, bending to place his mouth against you. He began to suck, pulling your soft lips into his mouth like he was starving, lapping up the beginnings of your body’s fluids, moaning from the taste and the smell of your scent. You wanted to moan, you wanted to pin his head to your trembling quim, but you didn’t dare move a muscle or make a single sound. Breathing in, breathing out, letting the sparks of an orgasm rush through you, bringing tears to your eyes from holding back so much pleasure. 

Your Watcher’s salve was almost too effective. It had made you pliant, but now you were beyond sensitive, able to feel the pound of your own heartbeat through your hole, desperate for something to press inside of you. You needed his cock. 

But, he did not give it to you. He just sucked and sucked and sucked, and his fingers began to rub along the entrance of your slippery hole, pressing down on your pussy’s walls, testing their strength. You fluttered for him, just like your Watchers had taught you, and you felt him stumble in his movements, shocked by your power. 

He stood between your legs, his face and beard soaking from his meal, letting you drip off of his chin like a messy hound drinking from a river. Then, to test your resolve, he teased you with a little bit of meanness, stepping forward to let his cock lay along your body, measuring himself on the outside of you. He reached far beyond your navel, his lubed phallus warm and heavy, his knot resting in the softness of your folds, and you could feel him throbbing for you. 

You didn’t dare move, but you wanted to cradle his cock in your hands, to rub up and down his length, to feel the smoothness of his head and the firmness of his knot. But, you stayed stock still, showing the crowd that you would not waver. There was some soft chittering from the clans, the shock at his size obviously enough to break onlookers out of their respectful quiet. 

Then, he began notching his head at the entrance of your pussy, letting the tip slide up and down your tight ring of muscles that guarded your entrance.      

“Last chance, Omega. Call it off. Cry out, and my own men will cut me down,” he bade you under his breath, having a hard time holding his words and sentences together, his voice shaking in his throat. 

You looked up at him with closed lips, making a point to give him a soft smile as a response. 

No deal. 

You pulsed your muscles again, making your pussy lap up his sloppy precome like a little mouth, watching as he was torn apart by your action, no matter how minor. 

So, without any other choice, he fed himself into you. It was a fearsome experience, at first. You weren’t sure if you could actually handle him. But, you breathed through the stress, relaxing your body, finding that deep, secret place inside of you, making your slick drop down for him, flooding your hole to welcome him in. 

The confusion that painted his face was so satisfying. He couldn’t understand the sheer warmth and comfort he was experiencing. His cock was being sucked into you, deeper and deeper, and finally, you felt his knot. 

He pulled all the way out of you, and sheathed himself all the way back in, always reaching to that one spot, just above his bulbous anchor, and then starting his process over again. Each time his cock fucked its way through your body, humping himself into you, creamy, milking noises filled the quiet, open-air arena. The whole ensemble could hear him invading your hole, the lurid slap of skin on skin loud and unashamed. 

His phallus was large enough to rub against your most sensitive spot over and over, bullying it into producing more and more slick, making you come just by dragging his heavy cockhead over it, in and out, in and out, pounding into you with almost reckless need. 

You came for him, and your body began to shiver from the overwhelming bliss, but you held your voice. You tried to still yourself, not wanting to show weakness, but there was nothing you could do. You were shattered by his cock, coming over and over again. It was an endless wave. You had no idea where one started and the other stopped. 

You could taste blood in your mouth from biting the inside of your cheek. Still, you pushed through it, testing yourself with every push and pull of your body. 

His huge hands pawed at your hips and breasts, squeezing you, watching your plump flesh jiggle with every cruel strike of his hips. Your Alpha took your own slick and began to rub it all over your skin, swirling it around your nipples, letting it smear across your belly from his palm. Then, he painted himself, taking it from your well-fucked hole and rubbing it across his scent gland, down his chest, matting his hair with your wetness. 

Then, you felt his precome begin to pump out of him. You knew it had begun because this was when your slick was meant to wash through you, but there was no space for anything else. So, it began to pour out of you and over his knot. Every time he pushed it against your body, it threatened to slip into your hole, and you were filled with a twisted excitement, ready for it to be stuck inside of you, to churn and grind against your insides, to trap you in a blinding, rageful bliss. You nearly cried out from the heavy want you felt in your chest. 

“You ready for my knot, pretty Omega?” He growled, no longer speaking to you softly. There was no gentleness left within him. 

He shoved you back across the dais, climbing up onto it with you, breaking every protocol by doing so, but knowing there wasn’t a single other Alpha in attendance who would do anything about it unless you asked them to. But, he trusted you, lifting himself above you, bringing his face to your face, kissing you and beginning to lick your scent gland, making you see stars. 

Would he really bite you right here in front of all these people while you were about to take his knot? It was beyond intimate. Not only was it private, but it was dangerous. It was when an Alpha was most vulnerable. The audacity of this man shook you to your core. 

“Bite me, Omega. Please take me. Claim me as yours, sweetheart. Show them that you are mine. My Omega.”

His voice was ragged and deep, a hoarse purr of commands, all of which you were happy to obey. You began to lick his neck, putting your mouth over his gland as you began to suck at the round swell of flesh. Then, just as you canted your hips, feeling his knot slip inside of you, shoving and burying itself within the tight sheath of your pussy, you used your muscles to yank him the rest of the way in, and you bit down on his neck, hard, your body seizing from a hard, ruthless orgasm. . 

You heard the crack of his gland, and you felt him sink his fangs into yours, the pain and the pleasure mixing within you like a drug, his cock firing rope after rope of searing hot come into your belly, flooding your womb with his spend. He pulled his mouth away and stared into your eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his face full of disbelief, 

“My love…”

You kissed him, taking his lip into yours, suckling on it, trying to guide him back down from his tantric high. He was struggling above you, stuck deep inside of you, unable to stop himself from dumping heavy loads of his come into your body, his cock pulsing and throbbing with each burst of his cream. 

He rested his head on your neck, returning his mouth to your gland, and every time he licked it, now, you felt your pussy twist around him, threatening to slam you with another orgasm. You licked him, too, hearing him cry out against your skin, feeling the mirror of your sensations, his heavy phallus jerking as you sucked on his broken gland. 

Finally, he was able to rock back and forth, letting his knot slip out of you before popping it back inside, fucking you with it just like he did with his cock. He twisted his hips forward, driving into you with all of his strength, and then he would pull himself back out, the swell of his knot increasing with each thrust until, on the last thrust, he was finally trapped, unable to remove himself from your core. 

Now, though, it was your turn. You began to use your muscles to push and pull him from the inside, fucking him like a sleeve of smooth, soaked warmth, jerking his shaft up and down with your insides.

“Oh, fuck…” He whispered, not expecting your skills to be so advanced, but you had trained hard for this moment. You weren’t about to let it go to waste. 

You moved him inside of you, letting his knot take the brunt of your efforts, squeezing it like a fruit, making sure all of his juice melted into your skin. You made him come like this again, using the salve that your Watcher had given to you as an advantage, knowing that the heightened sensitivity you felt was now being passed on to him. He filled you up, his knot plugging your hole, preventing any of his seed from leaking out, and your tummy was swollen from his load, round and full for everyone to see. 

He sat up on his heels, looking down at you with his eyes full of adoration and wonder, watching your strong abdominals clench and twist as you used them to help you work inside of yourself, edging him over and over before pulling him down into the depths of another hard come with you. 

His hands went to the bulge of fluid in your belly, most of it flooding into your womb, unable to escape anywhere else. Your Alpha caressed your skin, marveling at the fullness. Then, he looked down at your stretched hole, playing with your clitorus that had been forced out from under its hood due to the sheer size of his knot, all of your skin bowing around it and pulled tight. 

Your Alpha forced you to come like this, milking him hard, trying not to make a sound but giving away your mind-bending pleasure with shaking, whimpering breaths. 

“That’s a good Omega. So full of my come.”

You smiled up at him, enjoying the full feeling of his come inside of you. But, you were losing your strength, and he could feel it. Alpha Price leaned over you again, grinding himself down into you and helping you reach one last orgasm, pulling himself along with you, squirting the last of his spend into your pussy. Then, he carefully twisted his cock out of you, watching the gush of his come coat the marble platform, dripping out of you and down the sides of the dais. 

You were so empty and weak, but you were being lifted, cradled in his arms, and the whole arena burst into revelrous applause. The feast had begun, but not for you. You would be in your Alpha’s tent, and there you would remain until he bred you, making sure that you were laden with his cub, sharing food and drink with him in bed while you were stuck on his knot, traditionally until sunset when you would be presented to the clans as the new Apex Omega, destined to rule beside him forever. 

“Are you done being quiet, my Omega?”

“Yes, Master,” you whispered, nestling into his broad chest. 

“Good,” he smiled, “I need to hear you scream for me.”

“And I need my Alpha to breed me. I need your knot again, Master. Don’t pull it out.”

“I’m at your command, my love,” he smiled, planting a kiss on your temple, smearing his own salve across your swollen flesh, working his cock until he was hard again. 

When you felt his knot for the second time, you knew you had made the right choice. Your people were safe, and so were you. You weren’t sure if it was the high of your claiming or the truth that you felt in your heart, but you were eager to be dripping with his come every night. Trapped underneath your Alpha was right where you belonged, knotted and full of his love. 

Seriously, send help. I was too ashamed to even reread it for typos. I'm so sorry.

[chvoswxtch]

i love you

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: everything has led to this.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, blood, & weapons, all the angst in the world (like all of it)

word count: 6.6k

a/n: i think this is the longest chapter to date, & definitely the most jam packed. grab a snack, a blanket, some tissues, & settle in. i can't accept your therapy invoices, but i will be here to provide comfort after. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

As dozens of Billy’s men filled the expansive underground space you were in, your ears picked up on several different sounds. The click of clips being loaded into guns, the rip of velcro straps on kevlar being pried open, the hiss of steel being sharpened to a fatal point. However your brain could barely focus on any of those sounds because the only ones that registered were the murmurs of casual conversations and the easy laughter that followed crude jokes.

These men might as well have been lingering around at a bar with a drink in their hand, not gearing up to go up against one of their own. Whether they were doing it out of loyalty to Billy, or just for the impressive paycheck waiting for them, you knew some of these egotistical fucks were doing it so they could be the one to say they did the impossible; to be able to say they brought down the Punisher.

Some of their faces you recognized from working with Frank when he was your bodyguard, trading off shifts with him, and providing extra detail when needed. It was a nauseating feeling realizing the entire time you thought you were being protected from the Defenders of Freedom, you were in the presence of an even greater threat and didn’t know it. How many of these guys wouldn’t have even hesitated to flip on you for the right price and take you out themselves?

These men knew where you lived, where you worked, who you knew, where you got your fucking coffee every morning, everything about you and your routine. They were prepping to go up against Frank, but you knew not a single one of them would bat an eye if Billy gave the order to kill you once he got what he wanted. Your eyes flickered over to his tall form standing across the room, watching him bark out orders to a group of men that looked like they were buzzing with anticipation for all hell to break loose. Every single person in this room wanted Frank dead.

And it made you sick.

Your mind was still reeling from learning the truth about him, about his past and who he really was. It was like you couldn’t process it. All the pieces were there, connected into place, but your brain refused to see the picture on top. How could they be the same man? 

Frank. Stubborn Frank that put up with your short fuse and shot back at your smartass remarks with his own. Thoughtful Frank that remembered your coffee order, that remembered every little thing you told him no matter how big or small, that neatly packed a bag for you full of your go to essentials and clothes when he brought you to Curtis. Sweet Frank that immediately apologized if he raised his voice too loud, that was going to sleep on the floor of a motel just to make sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable, that touched you like you were delicate glass he didn’t want to break.

Frank that had saved your life more times than you could count, and that had been by your side and protected you from everything he could for the last nine months.

That Frank, your Frank, was the same man that had been painted as a psychopath in the media for murdering thirty-seven people in cold blood.

“You still not talkin’ to me?”

Billy’s boots appeared in your line of sight, but you didn’t look up at him. After he’d forced you to put it all together, you’d completely shut down and gone silent. You weren’t even sure how long you’d been sitting in that chair still as a statue and mute while Billy and his men prepared for Frank’s arrival. While you were struggling to process the bombshell he’d dropped, one question kept popping into your head.

“Why did you give me that file?”

“Thought you’d wanna know. Seein’ as how you were such a big fan and all, writin’ all those articles praisin’ him-”

“I didn’t praise him.”

Billy seemed pleased with himself that he’d finally gotten you to look at him and speak to him. The cocky smirk that fleeted across his lips reignited a flame of resentment within you.

“You sure as hell didn’t condemn him neither.”

Clenching your jaw and setting your lips in a firm line, you looked away from Billy, glaring straight ahead. Your lack of response and attention made his smirk slip, and he let out an exhale of irritation through his nose while looking down at you.

“You know, I really thought you understood.”

Rolling your eyes in exasperation, you looked up at Billy in pinched cynicism and snapped at him.

“Understood what?”

“That things ain’t always black and white. That most things happen in that little gray area, where it gets a little messy. It ain’t always-”

“Oh shut the fuck up, William. Don’t try to preach at me to make yourself feel better about whatever shitty thing you did. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Billy’s eyes darkened at your sharp verbal lashing. He stood up a little straighter and squared his shoulders, his lips pressed together in a bitter line. He watched you turn your head and glower down at the floor as if it had personally wronged you, and he noticed how your bound hands slightly trembled from how pissed off you were. It was a complete 180 from your catatonic state five minutes earlier. He would’ve found it amusing if he wasn’t so annoyed.

Suddenly the lights went out, and the underground space went pitch black. The darkness was so opaque, you couldn’t even see your own hands when you looked down in their general direction. A murmur of confusion and irritation spread throughout Billy’s men, and the sound of guns being cocked and knives being unsheathed seemed to echo in the stillness. 

Not even a minute later, there was a loud click as the emergency lights from the backup generator switched on. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the dull light coming from the intermittently spaced fixtures. All of Billy’s men were looking between each other and the various exit points in the underground basement that were shrouded in ominous shadows. Billy shifted quickly into a more guarded stance, his eyes hard and jaw taut while turning his attention to the man standing closest to his left.

“Carson, take your men and check the breakers. Power station’s on the south side.”

“Yes sir.”

As the team of six disappeared down the hallway on the far right, Billy turned to face the remaining group of his men with a stern expression.

“Alpha team, you’re on the North exits. Bravo, you’re on the South. When Carson gets me an update on those breakers, Echo I want a rooftop visual. You know who’s coming. You know your orders.”

“Kill Castle.”

A blonde man you didn’t recognize had a cocky grin on his thin chapped lips, emphasizing his point by cocking his gun.

“He ain’t gonna hesitate to kill you.”

Some of the men exchanged glances at that statement before looking at Billy with a nod of affirmation. His dark brown eyes flickered over each of them, looking for any sign of fear or weakness.

“He does not leave here alive. You do whatever you gotta do to bring him down. Watch your six. Remember, there’s half a million waitin’ for whoever brings me the body.”

Frantically glancing between Billy and his men as they fully geared up, you gripped the arms of the chair while looking up at Billy in a mixture of incredulity and confusion. You thought Billy had brought his men in for defense. It was evident none of them had a problem killing Frank, but you assumed the whole point of their presence was to protect Billy, and to force Frank to surrender by outnumbering him so that Billy could trade for the intel. If they killed him on sight, Billy wouldn’t have any way to get what Frank found.

“I thought you said this was a trade.”

Turning his head to look down in your direction, Billy could see the clear panic on your face. There was a wicked gleam in Billy’s eyes as a sardonic smirk slowly tugged at the edge of his lips.

“Nah, sweetheart. It’s a trap.”

An icy trickle of dread cascaded down your spine rapidly and your breath hitched in your throat. Billy didn’t give a shit about what Frank had on him. He hadn’t brought him here to bargain. He’d lured him into an execution, using you as bait.

A cacophony of rapid gunfire and shouting unexpectedly echoed from the hallway on the far right that Carson’s team had disappeared down, and everyone’s heads immediately snapped in that direction. Billy’s smirk swiftly dropped from his mouth, and he quickly went rigid. But before anyone could even react, the resonation of bullets ricocheting and panicked yells abruptly stopped, and it went dead silent.

The previous arrogant attitude the remaining men had up until that moment seemed to rapidly evaporate, and their heavy breathing and wide eyed gazes betrayed their true apprehension as the reality of the situation sobered up their egos. They knew what that sound meant. They knew who it meant.

And so did Billy.

“Get to your positions.”

Billy’s dark eyes flickered over his men with a hardened glare when they didn’t move quickly enough, and his voice reverberated off the walls when he yelled.

“Now!”

Immediately, they started to disperse like scurrying ants, and the sound of their boots hitting the concrete floor in every direction echoed like claps of thunder. When you looked up at Billy again, you saw something in him you’d never seen before, something you didn’t even think he was capable of.

Fear.

At first the sound was so soft and quiet that when Billy looked down at you and saw your head tilted downwards and your shoulders faintly shaking, he thought you were crying. But when it grew louder in volume, Billy’s short lived concern turned into pure irritation as it became clear that you weren’t crying.

You were laughing.

The edge of his lips curled into a faint snarl as he lunged at you, slipping his hand into your hair to roughly yank your head backwards which earned a grunt of pain from you. Billy’s nose was barely half an inch from yours as he bent down and glared at you.

“What the hell is so funny?”

Staring him down with equal animosity, your lips slowly spread into a wide and wicked grin. Leaning in even closer to get in his face as much as he was in yours, you spoke in a harsh taunting tone laced with venom.

“You are so fucked.”

Billy stared into your eyes, seeing nothing in them but pure stubborn rage. His own lips spread into a dark smirk, and he let go of your hair to wrap his hand around your throat instead, making a point to apply just enough pressure to make you inhale sharply. He could feel the thrum of your rapid pulse against his fingers, and his breath was warm against your lips when he leaned in closer.

“Nah, that’s where you’re wrong darlin’. I got you.”

The sound of a knife being unsheathed was sharp in your ears, and the glint of a blade reflected in your eyes as Billy held the serrated steel in front of your face. Cocking his head to the side menacingly, he dragged the flat side of it down your slightly heaving chest slowly. He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you refused to look away. A crisp rip suddenly sounded, and the pressure on your wrists was gone as he cut your restraints. 

“As long as I got you, I’m gettin’ outta here.”

Narrowing your eyes, you glared at Billy as he bent down to cut the restraints around your legs. When he rose to his full height, he slipped the knife back into the sheath on his hip and reached out to grab your arm tightly, tugging you up to your feet roughly.

“C’mon, you’re with me.”

When he took a step forward, you yanked your arm out of his grasp, glowering up at him as you raised your chin defiantly and spoke through your teeth.

“Pussy.”

Billy’s eyes flickered with both annoyance and amusement. He slipped his gun out of his holster and held it at his side, gesturing in your direction with his chin.

“Think I liked you better all tied up.”

“Yeah I'm sure you did.”

Ignoring your challenging stare, Billy grabbed your arm harshly again and started pushing you towards one of the exits that led down a long tunnel like hallway. The emergency backup lights lit up the path enough to navigate, but there were gaps of shadowed darkness in between them. You still had no idea exactly where you were, but it looked like some kind of abandoned warehouse or factory.

You struggled to keep up with the large stride of Billy’s long legs as he practically dragged you along with him. His eyes were focused straight ahead, his hand gripped tightly around the handle of the gun in his other hand, his index finger resting on the trigger. 

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

“Be quiet.”

Your eyes flickered down to the knife in the sheath on Billy’s hip. As your gaze darted quickly between the knife and Billy’s focused face, you took advantage of his diverted attention and impulsively reached for the handle to yank it out. The force of the movement caught Billy off guard and made his grip on your arm falter for a second. Ripping your arm away from his grip, you quickly took a few steps backwards and pointed the sharp tip of the knife in his direction. 

A crease formed between Billy’s dark brows as he glanced between the knife in your hand and the empty sheath on his hip before an expression of annoyed realization dawned on his sharp features. Letting out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose, Billy lifted his head and looked at you in pure vexation, clearly not feeling threatened by you in the slightest.

“Why are you so goddamn difficult? Gimme that.”

Billy held out his hand expectantly. Looking down at his outstretched palm, you lifted your gaze and glared up at him as you tightened your grip on the handle and grit through your teeth.

“No.”

Clenching his jaw in frustration, Billy took a step closer and cocked the hammer on his gun.

“Sweetheart, now ain’t the time-”

“You need me. You’re not gonna shoot me-”

Billy took another step forward and aimed his gun at your thigh, glowering down at you with a hardened look in his eyes. 

“Not in the head, but if you don’t give me that goddamn knife back and stop bein’ so fuckin’ difficult, you’re gonna be crawlin’ outta here.”

Staring up into his darkened eyes, your heart was pounding in your chest. You knew Billy was serious, and it made the adrenaline induced confidence in you falter. He could see that he’d unnerved you with his threat. He took another predatory step forward and held out his hand expectantly once again.

“Now, we’re gonna do this nice and-”

“Russo!”

Both of you instantly snapped your heads towards the other side of the dark hallway shrouded in unfiltered blackness as a familiar deep voice boomed from the end of it. The volume and intensity behind the war cry seemed to rattle your bones and left you frozen in place. Billy expertly swiped the knife from your grasp in a flash, pressing the serrated blade against your throat before you could even blink. He pointed his gun towards the end of the darkened hallway, his stance rigid.

“That you, Frankie?”

The sound of heavy boots against the concrete slowly started to grow louder as they traveled down the hall in your direction. You knew who they belonged to. You’d recognize those footsteps anywhere. Your heart seemed to pound just as loudly in your ears as they got closer and closer. Swallowing thickly, the movement made the blade just barely cut into your skin, but you couldn’t even feel it from the adrenaline coursing through you. All at once, a sharp gasp escaped your lips and your eyes went wide.

A white skull spontaneously appeared in the darkness, floating through it like an apparition. As it came closer, you could see that it was worn and faded, darkened with dirt and grime, coated in several deep red streaks and splatters of fresh blood with various bullets lodged into it. A merciless and unforgiving symbol of wrath and vengeance the worst of the worst in New York had learned to fear.

Time seemed to stand still when he stepped out of the shadows, and your blood ran cold when you were face to face with the Punisher for the first time.

Frank.

His large hands were covered in blood, and his knuckles were split and bruised. Deep shades of violet were blooming on his left cheek and around a fresh cut that was bleeding on his right cheekbone. There was a small split on the bridge of his large nose, and one on the left side of his top lip. The dim light above cast menacing shadows on his bruised and bloodied face, emphasizing the storm of rage brewing in his eyes. 

Frank stopped directly under the light, just a few feet away. You thought you’d seen Frank pissed before, but the way he was staring at Billy made you shudder. He was furious. The anger radiating off of him in waves was palpable.

“It didn't have to be like this, Frankie.”

Frank’s index and middle finger on his right hand twitched twice as he spoke in his gruff voice.

“It wouldn’t be if Madani hadn’t been right.”

“Surprised she trusted you at all. You were there in Kandahar, Frank. Hell, you’re the one that pulled the fuckin’ trigger on her partner. She know that?”

“I was followin’ orders. You were workin’ with Rawlins and Schoonover, sellin’ out your honor. For what, Bill? Money?”

Hearing the blatant disgust in Frank’s voice, Billy tightened his grip around the handle of the gun and the handle of the blade simultaneously. 

“You shoulda just left it alone, Frankie. But you chose that bitch Madani over me.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly, his dark brows and face scrunched in a concoction of disappointment and anguish as he looked at Billy. 

“You think I wanted to believe her, Bill? You think I wasn’t lookin’ for somethin’ to prove her wrong, huh? You think I wasn’t hopin’ to God I’d find nothin’?”

The despair laced within Frank’s rough voice killed you. 

“You shoulda come to me. I was your brother, Frankie. All of this, it was unavoidable.”

Billy gestured between you and Frank with his gun before aiming it at Frank again. Frank hadn’t looked at you once. His attention was solely focused on Billy. The second those words left Billy’s mouth, you saw the way Frank’s face slowly morphed into a forlorn portrait streaked in betrayal.

“Was killin’ my family unavoidable?”

Frank’s grief stricken question felt like an electric shock. Snapping your head to look up at Billy, you watched as he visibly stiffened, his grip on both weapons faltering as his face fell slightly.

“You do it, Bill?”

Billy wouldn’t meet Frank’s eye, or yours. He dropped his gaze downwards, and what appalled you was his lack of a reaction. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t try to deter Frank’s accusation or defend himself at all, didn’t offer any kind of correction or explanation. He was standing there quietly like Frank hadn’t just dropped a grenade of trauma between them.

“Look at me. Look at me!”

Frank’s loud voice booming once again made you flinch, and Billy finally lifted his head to look at him. Standing up straighter, Billy looked at Frank with unnerving calmness.

“I didn’t pull the trigger-”

“But you knew about it.”

Frank’s voice had been reduced to a wavering whisper. The dim light above highlighted the way his brown eyes had glossed over with treachery that threatened to spill at any second. The pain in his gaze and in his voice brought tears to your own eyes as you looked at him. Billy plastered an impassive look on his sharp features, giving a faint nod of his head and speaking with as much nonchalance as if he was discussing the weather.

“Yeah, I knew.”

Frank closed his eyes solemnly, a stray tear slipping down each of his cheeks, the clear droplets turning pastel pink as they mixed with the deep crimson stains of blood lingering on his face. Inhaling sharply, when Frank opened his eyes again, he looked away for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly as a muscle feathered in his jaw. His nostrils flared and his lips twitched as he faintly shook his head in denial and disbelief.

“She loved you. My kids loved you.”

“It was just business-”

“It wasn’t business when my kids were callin’ you ‘Uncle Billy’. It wasn’t business when Maria was makin’ sure you had somewhere to spend the holidays. It wasn’t business when I heard my family screamin’ for me. When I saw my wife and my boy…layin’ dead in the grass. When I held my baby girl in my arms, seein’ blood and meat pourin’ out of where her face should be.”

Billy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he appeared to swallow down even the slightest flicker of remorse. Frank’s bloodied and beaten face was stoic, but his eyes gave away how distraught he was knowing that Billy had been involved in orchestrating the massacre of his family. It hadn’t been an inopportune tragedy getting caught in the middle of a shootout. It had been a premeditated execution. The bullet in Frank’s head was meant to be a killshot.

When Frank lifted his gaze and looked at Billy again, there was nothing but pure hatred left.

“No. It wasn’t just business then, Bill, and it sure as hell ain’t just business now. It’s pretty goddamn personal.”

“I never wanted this-”

“Yeah, well you got it.”

Frank’s bereavement had evaporated from the blaze of retribution that was now burning in his eyes. Billy watched as Frank physically morphed from a brokenhearted man in mourning into a vengeful memento mori right before his eyes. The reality of what Billy had done was so much worse than your wildest imagination could’ve ever conjured. It burned through the short fuse of your temper, and as a surge of adrenaline shot through your nervous system, you shoved the knife away from your throat while Billy was distracted. As soon as he turned his head in your direction, you struck your fist across his face, not even feeling the sharp pain that pierced your knuckles.

“You fucking coward.”

The unexpected impact made Billy stumble a half step backwards, dropping the knife that was in his other hand as it came up to clutch his jaw. He swiftly recovered from the hit and turned the gun on you. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, easy there, killer. Let’s calm that little temper down. I’d hate to ruin that pretty face-”

Taking a step closer towards the gun aimed at your chest, you stared him down and bared your teeth in a faint snarl.

“Go ahead. It’ll be nothing compared to what he’s gonna do to yours.”

Billy visibly stiffened at your razor sharp taunt, and his eyes darkened as he stared down at you. Cocking his head to the side slightly, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he suddenly chuckled darkly at your fearless rage.

“Goddamn, Frankie. She this feisty in bed?”

“The hell are you doin’?”

At first you didn’t realize that Frank was talking to you. In the midst of your unfiltered anger, you were still glaring up at Billy. It wasn’t until Frank called your name in a harsh reprimand that you turned to look at him and saw that he was finally looking at you. A flash of confusion interrupted your adrenaline induced wrath noticing that his anger seemed to now be directed at you instead of Billy.

“What?”

“I said what the hell are you doin’? He’s got a goddamn gun, Y/N-”

“Yeah I can see that, it’s pointed at my fucking face.”

Frank clenched his jaw when you snapped at him with equal frustration. He let out a puff of air through his lips and shook his head as he glanced around in pure irritation.

“For Christ’s sake, you never fuckin’ listen, do ya? You’re always runnin’ your goddamn mouth instead of doin’ what you’re told. What’d I say, huh?”

A look of raw hurt and puzzled betrayal crossed your face when Frank yelled at you. You were taken aback by the hostility in his gaze and in his voice. He was staring you down in a way that almost made you shudder. 

“I told you keep your distance, yeah? I said stay offline. But you just push, you can’t ever let go of that need for control, can you? And now look at you, underneath all this shit, got your panties all in a fuckin’ twist. You never hesitate, do ya? Just like that day in the cabin.” 

Frank’s angry tirade sent such an unexpected shock through you, it took you a moment to register what he was actually saying, but the mention of the cabin abruptly made it click and a light bulb seemed to go off when you realized what Frank was doing.

Distance. Offline. Push. Control. Underneath. Twist. Never hesitate.

“You always aim for my goddamn nerves.”

Frank roughly smacked his palm against his own shoulder in what looked like a display of frustration, but you understood what it really meant. 

“Just do what I said. You got that?”

He stared at you with a look in his eyes only you could decipher, a silent communication passing between the two of you, and you steeled your expression as you swallowed thickly and gave him a subtle but imperceptible nod. 

“Yeah. I got it.”

“Show me.”

Billy had been looking between you and Frank, amused by your little lover's quarrel. Frank’s final words made his dark brows furrow in curiosity, and when he turned his head to look at him, you quickly surged forward and gripped the barrel of the gun in your left hand, pushing it away from you and slipping your right hand under Billy’s wrist. Twisting the barrel forcefully to the right, Billy grunted as his wrist unexpectedly twisted with it forcing his grip to loosen. The second you pulled it away from his grasp and stepped back, he lunged forward, and you fired a shot right at his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

Billy’s back collided with the wall behind him when the bullet ripped through his right shoulder, his hand immediately coming up to apply pressure. Before the shock of what you’d just done could even register, Frank rushed forward and nearly tackled you as he wrapped his arms around your frame and forced you forward into a sprint. He dragged you down another hallway, and by the time you finally stopped running, your lungs were burning and your hands were trembling.

Frank grabbed you by your shoulders, ducking his head to capture your frantic gaze.

“Listen to me, I need you to run.”

Staring up at him wide eyed, a crease of confusion nestled between your brows.

“What?”

“Madani’s waitin’ outside, Homeland’s got the place surrounded. Take this hallway all the way down. You run, and you don’t look back for nothin’, you got that?”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Frank’s rapidly. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened, but the thought of leaving Frank seemed to snap you out of your shock. A stubborn look of refusal contorted your features as you looked up at him.

“Wha-no. No, I’m not leaving you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and stared down into your eyes with a pleading expression.

“Hey…hey, listen to me sweetheart, listen. I gotta finish this. I can’t…I can’t let it go.” 

Frank paused as he swallowed thickly and looked down at you, a sheen of remorse shining in his apologetic expression. His next words felt like a shot to the chest.

“And you can’t stay. You gotta go, you gotta walk away.”

The second those words left his lips, it felt like the breath had been knocked out of your lungs. You immediately started to shake your head in refusal.

“Frank-”

“Go, now.”

“Frank, don’t do this-”

Frank leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hated how much it felt like a goodbye. When he pulled back, he looked down at you with a tender expression and somber swirls in his warm brown eyes. His voice was the softest you’d ever heard it when he traced his thumb over your cheekbone gently.

“I love you, you got that? I love you, but you gotta walk away.”

Tears immediately sprang in your eyes as you slowly shook your head and begged him in a desperate whisper.

“Frank please-”

“Hey, shh shh shh.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your forehead in a delicate show of affection, allowing them to linger for a moment before he let go and took a step backwards.

“You gotta do this for me, baby. Please. Please, just this once, do what I ask.”

As soon as he stepped backwards, you stepped forwards and instinctively reached for his hand, gripping onto it tightly. Tears slipped past your bottom lash line while you looked up at him with raw emotion in your eyes, silently begging him not to go. 

“Go.”

Frank spoke in a gentle voice, giving your hand a faint squeeze before pulling his away, the blood that had been on his hand now staining yours. Without another word or glance, he turned to walk away, determined to find Billy and finish this. All you could do was watch him disappear, standing right where he left you, feeling like you’d just been shattered into a thousand helpless pieces.

With tears streaming down your face, you could feel panic start to rise in your chest. Turning to look down at the other end of the hallway, your fight or flight seemed to kick in and you started to run frantically. Just as you rounded one of the corners, one of Billy’s men popped out, drawing his rifle on you. Quickly you aimed the gun in your hand back at him, but before either of you could shoot, something suddenly flew out of nowhere and knocked the guy out.

He dropped to the ground with a thud, and you whirled around to aim the gun in your hands towards the shadow it had come from. Your breathing was ragged, and your hands were shaking as you gripped the handle until your knuckles turned stark white. A deep voice suddenly sounded from the darkness.

“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Soft footsteps approached, and out of the dark shadows, a pair of dark red horns glinted under the light. 

Daredevil.

Your eyes widened as he came into the light, his gloved hands help up in a show of surrender. You were completely stunned as he took cautious steps forward until he was in front of you, reaching out with one hand to gently place it on top of the barrel of the gun, slowly lowering it down.

“Go all the way towards the end of the hall. There’s an exit on your right.”

A look of confusion crossed your features as you glanced down the darkened hallway before looking back up at him. He’d come from an entirely different direction. 

“How do you-”

“Just trust me.”

Staring up into the dark lenses of his cowl, you turned your head to look back in the direction of where you’d just run from, where Frank had disappeared. All at once, the gravity of the situation felt too heavy, and you almost buckled under it.

“I…I can’t. I can’t.”

“You need to leave-”

“I can’t leave him.”

Hearing how panicked your breathing was starting to become, he stepped forward, gently grabbing your shoulders to get your attention, and you looked up at him in blurry hopelessness. 

“Listen to me, I'm not gonna let anything happen to him, alright? I promise.”

You couldn’t move. The daunting possibility of losing Frank was overwhelming. This whole thing felt like a devastating nightmare you desperately wanted to wake up from. Feeling your hesitation, Daredevil gently squeezed your shoulders again and spoke in an even softer voice.

“Y/N, Frank asked me to help keep you safe. Please let me do that.”

The way he said your name ignited a spark of recognition in your head, and it had a calming effect. You knew that voice. You’d heard it before. Something about him seemed…familiar, and not just because you’d covered articles about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Something about the way he said Frank’s name sounded familiar too. Letting your eyes wander over his figure in the red and black suit, the gears started turning in your head as you studied the bottom half of his face that wasn’t covered.

“Say his name again.”

“What?”

“Just say it.”

Even with half of his face covered, you could tell that he was clearly puzzled by your request.

“Frank.”

Immediately, it hit you like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him in shock, a breathless whisper of his name leaving your lips in disbelief.

“Matt?”

His plump lips parted, and he pulled back as he stood up straight, tilting his head to the side slightly. Before he could stammer out a response, he abruptly turned his to the left, and he dropped his hands from your shoulders.

“There's seven heavily armed men coming this way.”

Turning your head, you stared down the darkened hallway he was looking at in puzzlement. You couldn’t see or hear anything. Looking back up at him, you blinked a few times before tilting your head to the side and staring up at him in complete bewilderment.

“What? How the fuck do you-”

“It’s complicated.”

“Like being a blind lawyer but also Daredevil.”

Matt pursed his lips at your dry tone and sass. He took a step away from you and bent down to pick up the baton up off the floor next to the unconscious man. 

“Down the hall. Exit on the right. Go.”

Watching him pull out another baton, you threw your hands up in exasperation, still gripping onto the gun in your hand.

“And what the hell are you gonna do? You said there’s heavily armed men coming and you’re gonna, what? Throw your sticks at them?”

Matt cocked his head to the side as he glanced in your direction, slightly amused by your irritated skepticism. 

“They’re batons.”

“Oh, excuse me. Batons. You’re gonna throw your batons at the group of ex-special forces coming this way with automatic weapons.”

A cocky smirk stretched across his lips at your dry sarcasm, and he started to walk backwards.

“Have a little faith, sweetheart.”

When he took off running down the hall, you ran your hand stressfully through your hair, glancing around in complete disbelief. Your boyfriend was the Punisher. Your lawyer was Daredevil. And you were at your wit’s fucking end.

“What the fuck is going on.”

The second you pushed the door open to the exit that led outside, a blinding flash of light had you bringing your hands up to your face, including the one still holding the gun. A swarm of agents wearing protective gear and aiming guns in your direction swiftly rushed towards you, yelling out orders that had you freezing.

“Drop the weapon! Drop it now!”

In a panic, you quickly dropped the gun and held your hands up in surrender. There were police cars, S.W.A.T. trucks, helicopters floating above, and dozens upon dozens of various officers and agents surrounding the area. They were yelling at you to get down on the ground, and you were glancing between all of them anxiously, feeling like you were about to start hyperventilating as you tried to stutter out an explanation. 

Before you could get your limbs to work again and comply, a familiar voice carried over the aggressive demands.

“Stand down, now!”

Madani forcefully broke through the line of agents that had you surrounded, shoving her gun into the holster on her hip as she all but ran over towards you. Her brown eyes scanned over you intensely, quickly assessing for any sign of damage or injury. 

“What happened? Is Billy still in there? Where’s Frank?”

“I…I shot him.”

A crease of perplexity formed between Madani’s dark brows hearing your shaky response.

“What? You shot who?”

“Billy.”

Madani arched one of her dark brows in surprise, and what looked like a hint of pride. She took a step closer, lowering her voice.

“Is he dead?”

The anxiety coursing through your system was cresting, threatening to crash over you and trap you beneath the tide. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and you were shaking uncontrollably. 

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

Madani reached out to grab your arms, giving them a reassuring squeeze as she attempted to keep you calm while she looked at you.

“Y/N, where’s Frank?”

“He-”

All at once you froze. Madani felt you freeze up, and her brown eyes were darting back and forth between your own rapidly for an answer when she saw your eyes go wide with recognition and shock. She called your name again, but it was muffled in your ears and distant, like your head was underwater. A shaky whisper slipped past your lips as they parted.

“I didn't say it back.”

Madani was watching you intently, trying desperately to figure out what was going on and what had happened.

“Didn’t say what back? What are you talking about?”

In an instant, your eyes welled up with thick tears that turned Madani into a blurry silhouette, and you gripped onto her as though someone had punched a hole through your chest and ripped your heart right out. A choked sob caught in your throat when the gravity of what you had missed hit you with enough force to send a crack through your soul.

“I didn’t say it back, Dinah.”

Turning your head to look back at the abandoned factory behind you, the burden of your mistake fractured your rib cage, and a tide of agony and regret burst through the broken pieces like a wrathful flood. Madani caught you in her arms as you collapsed against her, pulling you into her chest when you succumbed to the grief and completely broke down in tears, letting out a wail of his name that tore through your throat and left it raw.

Frank had told you he loved you, and you didn’t say it back.

You didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Liquid Courage

Wonwoo x Classmate!Reader

Requested? Yes!

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, college au, unrequited love and perhaps a painful amount of pining

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption and being drunk

Jeon Wonwoo would like to think he’s a normal college student. He’s picked a major that he can tolerate. He goes to class, bleary eyed after all-nighters working on assignments, chugging a seemingly endless stream of coffee. He joins a few clubs to avoid his family’s nagging that he’ll rot in front of the computer playing video games in his free time, though he does enjoy the rot time. He goes out with his roommate and friends regularly for dinner and drinks and parties. But he has a secret, and it’s the totally not normal, totally suffocating, totally obsessive, massive, enormous crush on you, one of his classmates. 

He hit him like a truck the moment he met you in the first day of freshman year, or rather the first day he saw you. He’d like to think he’s not shallow and doesn’t get hung up on looks. A pretty appearance doesn’t always equate to a pretty personality, after all. But he was totally enamored by how pretty you were on the first day to the point that he didn’t hear much of anything the calculus instructor said. He beats his head against his desk in his dorm later that day as he looks at the syllabus. He’s got to get it together because that’s not why he’s here. 

He thinks he’s starting to get a handle on this (not so) little crush when he remembers that the class he shares with you is a General Education class and it’s very likely that you’ll pick a different major than him. His first day of sophomore year, he realizes he was wrong because there you are, sitting in the front row of his Intro to Database Systems class, unmistakably as a student of the engineering department. It’s in this class that he realizes how screwed he really is.

The first time you meet him in the library for a peer programming project, his heart stops beating when you greet him with a wide smile. He had the same reaction when you were assigned to work together the day before and traded numbers. He gives a small smile, because it’s all he can really manage without giving everything away and gets to work. Later that night, he beats his head against this desk again in his dorm room, because you’re so, so smart on top of everything else. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t think you were dumb by any means, far from it. But he wasn’t prepared to be corrected gently about a complex concept during your meeting earlier that day and he thinks the crush might just consume him. 

When his roommate, Mingyu, asks if he’s good, he just excuses it as being a little stressed by the work he has to get done. Never mind that the project with you is no longer on his list because it was done in a single sitting. He picks up another assignment, kind of regretting that he didn’t drag it out a little longer, even if his heart might not be able to take it. 

~

It’s the first day of the spring semester in his Sophomore year and he arrives early to his Matrix Algebra course. He didn’t know you’d be in this one with him, but he’s not totally surprised to see you here since you share a major and seem to be on the same track. But he is surprised to see you here, next to him. You greet him with a big smile and ask if the seat next to him is taken. “Oh, no. Go ahead, but don’t you want to sit up front?” 

You give him a confused smile as you slide into the seat. “What makes you say that?”

“You always sit in the front row,” he says simply, before realizing how it sounds. It sounds an awful lot like he pays a lot of attention to you. 

You don’t acknowledge his words or the way he flushes a little, but you do chuckle as you pull out your laptop. “Oh, yeah. I was way overdue for an optometrist appointment, so I couldn’t really see the board or screen. Just got a new prescription and new contacts last week, so I can sit back here with you!” 

“Oh,” he says lamely. “Okay, then.” 

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, face suddenly a little cautious. “That is, unless you’d like me to sit somewhere else?”

“No! I mean,” Wonwoo clears his throat awkwardly. “I mean, you can sit here. I don’t mind.”

You smile, though there’s still a tinge of caution to it. “Thanks, Wonwoo.” He can’t really respond because the instructor is sweeping into the room and getting started right away. He’s not quite sure what he’d say anyway. 

~

He’s absolutely beside himself the whole semester. Not only do you keep sitting next to him, but you seem to go out of your way to talk to him. It’s mostly about classes, but it’s still the highlight of his day, three times a week. He’s embarrassingly excited to go to his 8am class with you and it’s starting to get the attention of his roommate. 

Mingyu peers over his comforter as Wonwoo gets ready for class. He watches his roommate get dressed in more than sweats and a hoodie and fix his hair. The final straw is when he puts on cologne. “What class do you have again?”

“Matrix Algebra," Wonwoo says simply. 

“Uh huh. And you need cologne for that?” 

“I wear cologne everyday. What’s the big deal?” Wonwoo asks, though he doesn't sound like he cares about what the big deal actually is.

“You don’t. I’ve lived with you for a while. This is the first semester you’ve hopped out of bed for an 8am, and you’ve been doing it early every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. On Tuesday and Thursday, you have a 10am that you roll out of bed for and go to in sweats. Without cologne.” Mingyu adopts a smug expression. “So who is she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mingyu,” Wonwoo says evenly. “I gotta go. I’m going to be late. Don’t wait up, I have a project to work on tonight.”

Mingyu glances at the clock when the dorm room door closes behind his roommate. It’s not even 7:40am yet and it's a five minute walk to class. Interesting.

~

Wonwoo feels like he's getting somewhere. It sounds silly, but he’s kind of getting his hopes up that this little crush isn’t totally unrequited. You always choose him for your partner in class and he enjoys meeting you to work on these projects together. You’ve even started branching out, talking about things other than the shared classes you both have. It’s late and you’re in the library with him, talking about a new book series you’re reading and he doesn’t think he could like you anymore than he does now. He’s asking what you like about it without spoilers when a guy approaches you, putting his hand on your back. You beam up at him and Wonwoo’s heart kind of plummets. 

“Hi baby, I was wondering where you got off to. I stopped by your dorm but you weren’t there,” the guy says. 

“Oh, I should have told you I had a project to work on,” you say apologetically. “You weren’t worried about me, were you?” 

“No, never,” the guy says lightly, glancing to Wonwoo. 

You perk up. “Oh, this is Wonwoo. He’s my partner for one of my major courses. Wonwoo, this is my boyfriend, Minghao.”

Wonwoo does his best to be polite, but he’s feeling some type of way about hearing the word ‘boyfriend' come out of your mouth. He didn’t know you were dating anyone, not that it's a crazy thought. He doesn’t see you a lot around campus outside of class because you run in different circles socially. 

Minghao is friendly, making it difficult to hate him. “Oh, good. Maybe you both can help me me with my math homework. I’m an arts major, I’m not cut out for these gen ed courses. Can I join?”

He considers leaving but it feels rude, so he stays, even helping Minghao here and there. It occurs to him that he’s torturing himself by staying. You and Minghao seem like a good match, the epitome of opposites attract really. You’re an engineering major and he’s an arts major. You’re bubbly and outgoing, and he’s a little shy and reserved. But you both are smart and well-read and have a gentle approach to social interactions. Not to mention you both look totally love sick for each other. It makes Wonwoo love sick in a totally different way.

He trudges back to his dorm late, going straight to bed. He skips class the next day, sending you a short text that he doesn’t feel well. He doesn’t respond when you send him a message back, hoping that he feels better and that you’ll send him your notes.

~

It’s the middle of the fall semester, Junior year, and you and Wonwoo are knee deep in major courses now, most of which you share with each other. Whatever hopes he might have had last semester to avoid you seem totally unreasonable, and he's resigned himself to the unrequited aspect of his friendship with you. And it really does seem like a friendship now. He sees you a lot more now, mostly because you spend hours together every single weekday, both in and between classes. So, he notices something is off when you show up late to your shared Networking class, sneaking in with an apologetic bow to the instructor. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers automatically, concerned. You give him a passing glance, nodding, but he spots it for the lie that it is, because your eyes are red and you’re wearing your glasses today, instead of contacts. His first thought is allergies, but he’s known you for a while and you’ve never seemed to suffer from it much before. He watches you set your phone on Do Not Disturb, but not before he spots dozens of unread messages and calls. 

He lets you be for the duration of the class and leads you to the cafe on campus as usual afterwards. It’s a habit this semester because neither of you usually have time to get coffee before your shared 8am. He gestures for you to have a seat while he orders. Another little habit, you both take turns paying on these little trips. When he places your order in front of you, he simply asks if you want to talk about it. 

He does not expect you to tear up and panic bubbles inside of him fast. “I’m sorry, I’m being a cry baby about it. It’s not that serious.”

“Unlikely. What’s not that serious?” 

You sigh. “Minghao and I have been fighting a lot lately.”

“About what?” Wonwoo asks, though it feels like a gut punch to even talk about him. He usually tries to forget he exists. You stare at him and he purses his lips. “We’re friends, right?” You nod automatically and he ignores the way your lack of hesitation simultaneously elates and stings him. “Then tell me about it. At least venting might help, even if I can’t help you fix it.”

You don’t look at him for a while and finally say, “He’s got a bit of a jealous streak. I feel like he doesn’t trust me. We fought last night and it was bad.”

“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely “I’m sure you haven’t given him any reason not to trust you. Maybe he’s just insecure.” Wonwoo says ‘maybe’ but he’s positive that’s the case. He might be too if he was in Minghao’s shoes, but he’d never make it your problem. He waves away the thought because he’s not likely to ever be in Minghao’s shoes.

“Maybe… Maybe I should just end it,” you say. He’s conflicted, because there’s screaming in his head about the idea of you being single, yet you sound so upset about it. 

So he says, “If you feel like that’s the right thing to do. I’m here if you need me.” He lets you go about the day, acting a little bit like a zombie. He guides you between classes, shares his notes with you as usual, and guides you to your dorm building when classes are over. 

~

He certainly does not expect you to actually reach out to him later that night. You call at nearly 10pm and both Wonwoo and Mingyu jump at the sound. Wonwoo’s already pulling on a jacket and shoes when he hears you sniffle, asking if he’s up for a walk. He ignores Mingyu’s raised eyebrow on the way out. 

You’re sitting on a bench outside of his dorm building when he comes outside. “You good?” He asks, even though he kind of knows the answer already. 

“Yeah, just needed some air. You weren’t busy, were you?” You ask, standing up. Your nose is bright red and he wonders if it’s from crying or the cold, or both.

“No, just lying around.” He follows your lead, though he can tell you’re walking aimlessly. “Want to talk about it?” You shake your head and he lets you be. He doesn’t hear anything about Minghao after that. 

~

It’s senior year and there are only a few things that have changed. The first is that neither of you live in the dorms anymore. Wonwoo and Mingyu got an apartment just off campus, and when Wonwoo mentioned that there were other units open in the building, you jumped at the opportunity, citing how totally over communal spaces you were. You move in with one of your friends down the hall. He likes Jeonghan. He seems like a good friend to you, which is the most important thing, really. But selfishly, he likes Jeonghan because the two of you resemble siblings more than anything else and he’s comforted by the seemingly platonic nature of your relationship. 

The second change is that because of this new proximity and lack of rules around guests, you both are in and out of each other’s apartments constantly. Those late nights at the library are replaced by late nights at each other’s kitchen table with laptops and textbooks spread across it. There are also movie nights and video game nights and reading nights and really everything in between. 

The third change is precisely because of this new proximity. His friends are absolutely onto his little secret. Mingyu smirks and raises an eyebrow every time Wonwoo bails on plans and says he’s busy. “Busy with who?” Mingyu will ask tauntingly. Wonwoo does his best to brush this off, but his friends see right through it, like they do tonight. 

You’re sitting across from him at the kitchen table, working on an assignment together, when a lot of noise at his front door makes him groan. You look at him questioningly, and that look only grows when he says he’s sorry for what’s about to happen. He’s done everything he can to avoid this moment, but it seems he can’t escape it anymore. Mingyu’s met you because you’re here all the time, but the others haven’t and they’re about to. 

Mingyu barrels into the room with Seungcheol and Vernon on his heels. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you guys were working on anything.” Mingyu’s apology is a total lie because that was the entire reason that Wonwoo bailed on plans with them, but he won’t call him out on it in front of you. 

“You must be Y/N, we’ve heard a lot about you,” Seungcheol says, introducing himself and Vernon. You glance questioningly still at Wonwoo, but you’re friendly about greeting them back. 

“We’ll be quiet,” Mingyu promises, leading the others to the living room with a smug look. They aren’t quiet in the least, but it doesn’t matter because the project is done within an hour. You pack up your things and leave, telling him you’ll see him tomorrow. He knows he has to face the music at some point, so he decides to get it over with, joining his friends in the living room. 

“So, that’s Y/N, huh? She’s cute,” Seungcheol teases.

“Told you. He’s down bad,” Mingyu laughs. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just friends. We’ve had a lot of classes together over the years,” Wonwoo says evenly. 

“Is she not single?” Vernon asks. While Seungcheol and Mingyu are teasing, Vernon doesn’t seem to mean anything by it. Still, Wonwoo would like to pretend that he doesn’t feel the way he does and doesn’t want the questions. 

“No, I’m pretty sure she is, but it doesn’t matter. We’re just friends.” Okayyyys and Whatever You Says echo behind him as he excuses himself to bed, because he’s decided he actually isn’t ready for this conversation. He’d like to keep living in denial. 

~

If it was even possible, you integrate even more into his life. It turns out that Jeonghan shares classes with Seungcheol, so now those little ventures with his friends include you and your roommate too. Over time, he sees it for what it is. His friends seem to like yours and Jeonghan’s company, sure, but they actually just like to watch him squirm around you. 

But he’d never dream of turning down time with you, so he finds himself out at the bar. This one is special because it’s actually half arcade. He’s been eyeing it since he heard that it opened and no one objects to making it the outing on Saturday night. Everyone grabs a drink upon arrival and starts making their way around each machine. He sticks with you most of the night and doesn’t even notice how many coins the two of you have gone through or that your friends have long abandoned this side of the building, opting for the actual bar. They even leave you two after a while to go to another bar down the street. 

When Mingyu comes home and finds Wonwoo on the couch, he groans. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be out with Y/N! We had a whole plan!” 

Wonwoo blinks at his roommate. “What do you mean? You guys abandoned us and when we were done with the games we came home.”

“We abandoned you so you could make a move!” Mingyu cries. 

Again, Wonwoo blinks. “I won’t be doing that.” 

“Why not?!” Mingyu’s cries are getting louder and perhaps a little more like literal cries. 

“Because she doesn’t like me like that,” Wonwoo says, but he’s realizes his mistake as soon as it’s out. Mingyu’s already smirking, wails forgotten.

“Oh? But you do?” 

“Good night, Mingyu,” Wonwoo dismisses, standing up. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll work on it for you,” his roommate promises and it sounds vaguely like a threat. 

“We?” Wonwoo asked, then he remembers how your shared friends abandoned both of you earlier tonight. “You know what, never mind. I don’t want to know. Good night, Mingyu,” He says, meaning it this time.

~

It’s Valentine’s Day, but Wonwoo treats it as business as usual. He has classes that are kicking his ass this semester, namely his senior design project, and he hardly thinks about the significance of the day and how he’s painfully single with an unrequited crush. You’ve been swamped too for the same reasons and you agree to meet him at his apartment for dinner and to work on your projects together. 

It’s late when you leave and he packs up his things after seeing you out. When he goes to his room to settle in for bed, he’s surprised to see a little heart-shaped box on his desk. There’s a little card with his name in your hand writing on it and it makes him stall out. First of all, how did you sneak this in here? Yes, you use his ensuite bathroom while you’re here, but he didn’t even see you sneak anything out of your bag. Secondly, why did you get him anything? 

Heart racing a little, he opens the card. It’s simple and actually gives no indication of why you did this - just a simple Happy Valentine’s Day, accompanied by a little image of a cat and your name written underneath it. Inside the box is a small selection of chocolates. He feels lame when he sends you a message thanking you for the chocolates, and even lamer when you simply send back, ‘You’re welcome!’ He doesn’t know how to interpret the meaning of this gesture and is sort of afraid to ask, so he leaves it alone. 

~

It’s his friends that plant the seed. “It’s almost White Day,” Seungcheol says over lunch. He has a feeling that it’s directed at him, but he stays silent. This is their not-so-subtle way of telling him to do something about your little Valentine’s Day gift last month. He didn’t mention it to any of them, but he probably doesn’t have to because they probably already know since they keep conspiring to get him to make a move. Wonwoo’s caught Jeonghan in on it occasionally too, which might be how they know about your little gift. 

“I didn’t get anything this year,” Vernon says, though he doesn’t sound too put out by it. “Did you guys?”

Seungcheol and Mingyu both shake their head. “What about you, Wonwoo? Did you get anything?” Mingyu asks slyly. 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, chewing his food. “I did,” he admits shortly.

“Oh? And are you going to return the gift?” Vernon asks, sounding hopefully.

“Maybe.” Another short answer.

“I think you should. I think she’d like it,” Seungcheol says, sounding just as hopeful as Vernon. Wonwoo doesn't ask who ‘she’ is, because it feels a little too much like admitting how he feels. So he just shrugs. 

~

White Day is on a Friday. Wonwoo goes through the day per usual, attending classes and hanging out with you in between. You seem to be in a good mood today, which isn’t unusual, but you’re a little twitchy. He gives you a look as you wiggle in your seat for the thousandth time since sitting down at the cafe in the afternoon. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you excuse. “Maybe a little too much caffeine today.” 

He doesn’t call you out what he thinks might be a lie because as far as he knows you’ve only had two cups today, one this morning and the one you’re drinking now. “Maybe you should cut back,” he teases. 

You give him an entertained look. “You first, then we’ll talk.” 

That night, he finds himself at a single’s mixer with you and your shared friends. One of Seungcheol’s frat friends extended the invitation and he didn’t have a good reason to turn it down. He loses you in the crowd quickly and wishes he hadn’t. He knows the whole point of this thing is to find someone to date or hook up with, but he has such little interest in the idea that he does his best to dodge any woman that approaches him. 

He finds you at the kitchen counter, total chaos around you, but you look totally dejected and unaware of it. He pats your back, getting your attention. That’s when he realizes that you aren’t just dejected, but you’re drunk. “Doing okay?” 

You nod, eyes a little unfocused. “Are you having fun?”

He shrugs. “Not particularly. Do you want to dip?” You nod and he realizes just how far gone you are when you stand up, wobbling from side to side. He steadies you, leading you out of the house. “Okay to walk?” You nod again, clinging to his side drunkenly as you two begin walking back. “You don’t normally drink this much, do you?” He asks carefully. 

“No,” you admit. “Just felt like it tonight.” 

“Okay,” he soothes. “Let’s get you to bed. You look like you’ll pass out anytime.” You don’t fight him when he leads you into his apartment instead. He knows your apartment is right down the hall, but he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you unattended when you’re like this. He hands you some clothes to change into and excuses himself. When he comes back with some water and medicine, you’re tugging the t-shirt into place. He beats back the thought of seeing you in his clothes because now is just not the time. Or rather never. 

“Take this first,” he commands, handing you the medicine and the water. When you’re done, he holds the comforter up for you to slide under. 

“Are you staying?” You ask sleepily, setting in immediately.

Wonwoo chuckles. “Well, I live here, so… I’ll be on the couch though, if you need me.”

You glare, though there’s absolutely nothing threatening about it. “No, just stay here.” You clumsily scoot over, peeling the covers back. 

He should say no, but he’s totally weak for you and can’t think to say no, so he sighs. “Let me change. I’ll be back.” When he comes back, he thinks you’re asleep. He’s almost dozed off when you speak up again. 

“Sorry you have to take care of me. I didn’t mean to overdo it,” you mumble. 

“It’s fine. Why did you overdo it though? I wasn’t under the impression that you really liked drinking all that much,” Wonwoo questions. He doesn’t actually expect to get a coherent answer, but it’s worth a try. He didn’t like seeing you so dejected earlier tonight. It reminds him of how you were when things with Minghao ended a couple years ago.

“It’s silly,” you mumble. You really sound like you’re barely hanging on to consciousness and he tries to ignore how cute it is. 

“Doubt it. Try me,” he dares. 

You huff, eyebrows furrowing. “You didn’t get me anything for White Day.” Wonwoo’s jaw drops, but you’re still rambling sleepily, eyes still closed. “I got you the chocolates for Valentine’s Day to tell you that I like you, but you didn’t get anything for me for White Day, so you must not return my feelings.” You huff again. “It’s okay.”

“I did though,” he blurts. Your eyes shoot open. You don’t look totally present, but you certainly don’t look so tired anymore. “I do.”

“You did? You do?” Your hopeful tone threatens crush him right where he lies. 

“Of course… I just wasn’t sure how to give it to you. You’re a lot braver than I am, it seems,” he chuckles, feeling a little embarrassed. He sits up, opening his bedside drawer, pulling out a little heart-shaped box with a little card on top of it. Your eyes light up at the sight and you clumsily sit up. 

“You like me back?” You’re doing your best to focus on the conversation and the way you add the word ‘back’ makes his heart beat out of his chest.

“Yeah, for an embarrassingly long time,” Wonwoo admits. You reach for the box and he stops you. “Maybe don’t eat it tonight. I don’t want you to get sick. It’ll be here tomorrow though.” You pout, but agree, letting him sit the box to the side. “Come on, go to sleep. We can talk about this in the morning. If you remember, that is.”

You follow his command, but he’s surprised that you don’t lie back down on your pillow, but rather his chest. He’s sure you can hear his heart race, but he would never dream of pushing you away. “I’ll remember,” you insist stubbornly, but then you’re snoring softly the very next second and Wonwoo’s on cloud nine. 

~

Wonwoo wakes up to the sound of crinkling in the morning. He cracks his eyes open, blindly reaching for his glasses. When they’re in place, he scoffs at you. You’re sitting up in bed next to him, picking at the chocolates. “That’s not breakfast, Y/N.”

You grin. “But you got them for me!” You look surprisingly alert, like you didn’t get absolutely wasted the night before. 

Wonwoo nods, acquiescent. “I did. So you remember our conversation last night?”

You hum, grinning wider still. “I do. How long is ‘embarrassingly long’ exactly?”

“A while,” Wonwoo says evasively. “Any plans today?” You shake your head. “Go on a date with me?”

“Okay,” you grin. You pick up a chocolate, handing it to him. “One for you, one for me.” 

He thinks you’re so cute that he can’t even be mad that your shared breakfast is chocolate. He actually wouldn’t want it any other way. 

[buckysegan]

We've been waiting for you, John Egan

summary: there's more waiting for john when he gets back from stalag luft iii. john egan x she. word count: 2.1K a/n: something in me felt a little feral tonight and this was needed. a little curvy fmc mention but nothing too much. i just love john egan and would give him all my babies i guess??? again we're rolling with some historical inaccuracies. a continuation from here

it had been five hundred and fifty one days. that was how long it had been since she had seen major john egan. that long since she had slept a whole nights sleep without worrying. that long since she'd known what i was like to be really settled. she tried not to think about it, how much time had passed and how hope seemed to get a little bit worse with each passing day. but it was so hard when she had such obvious proof of just how much john was missing whilst he was away.

she hadn't even realised at first, what the signs were. she had been so consumed in work with more pilots to care for in the hospital than ever before she had barely noticed that she was tired. the nausea was just a sure sign of how much she was missing john. she was confident of it. despite her not eating, the swell of her already generous hips was inconsequential compared to the rest of her worries so she barely paid attention to any of it.

it was douglass, sweet douglass that made the first joke about how if he didn't know better with how often he'd seen her run away to throw up he'd assumed she was pregnant. after that it hadn't taken long for the room to fall silent and for everyone to slowly do some of their own math. the other nurses has scooped her up, rushed her away to the infirmary and sat with her as she did her own calculations on what had happened. three months since she had last bled. dear god.

she should have been sent home. everyone around her knew that was likely when her bump started to show under her uniform and she was ready too, to be sent home and discharged, but the hundredth had always been an unruly bunch and it was almost as if no one could bare to send her away just in case. what would egan do if he got back and they weren't here? no one asked her, who the father might have been, everyone knew without anyone having to utter the words, hardin pulled plenty of strings to keep her around for his boys.

weeks of knowing, turned into months and each of the men around her stepped up in place of their friend. blakely rubbed at her shoulders when she looked a little tired. crosby was around day or night to fetch anything she might have needed. rosie tossed out baby names for girls and boys alike, offering sincere ones and ones that he knew would make her laugh. jack left the traded jacket for her on her bed and no one said a damn thing when she wore it around base. each of them did their best but when she laid on her bunk at night, hands cradling her bump it didn't take away the longing for her major.

those quiet times were when she let herself imagine what it would be like if all of this was happening at different times. how much larger johns rough hands would look splayed across her stretched stomach. just how good he would be at building things ready for the baby and preparing for their impending arrival. the soft spoken words that would have been offered in encouragement through her doubt.

it was two hundred and eighty two days since she had seen john, when the screams of a baby boy filled out a hospital wing and cheers of the hundred went up at the sound. a new soul welcomed into the world and surrounded with so much love despite the fact his dad was stuck somewhere out there.

jokes were passed around at the spirit of baby egan and the hope that he offered for the men. every time the men went up, there he was in the tower reminding them what they were all fighting to come back for. what good in the world still made it all worth while. as cheesy as she had always found it, she knew that the saying it took a village to raise a child had never been truer than it was here in thorpe abbotts.

gale cried when he saw them for the first time. the woman he knew his best friend had been fighting for and the bundle of brown curls in her arms. guilt flooding him that john had allowed him to escape when he had this to return home too. a family. a pair of matching blue and a smile that warmed his heart waiting for him to make it back. he told her as much, that he was sorry and it should have been bucky that made it home and she was quick to remind him that, john egan, wouldn't be the man either of them loved if he had ever left buck behind.

the days seemed to be longer now gale had made it home and she was still waiting on her bucky. each laugh her son offered and mile stone he hit causing a contradiction of emotions in her. joy that she got to witness it all and devastation john was missing it all.

it had been five hundred and fifty one days. that's how long she had been counting when blakely flew into the hospital, douglass and crosby on his tail. "john's home." the two words alone were enough to make her knees buckle as she looked back at the trio, who were all seemingly holding their breaths as they waited for her to respond. she would have cried, with joy, with relief, with the overwhelming sense of emotion that flooded through her. she was going to cry, she was sure of it but right now she needed to see john and she needed to make some introductions. with gale still away on relief mission, everyone knew who john would be asking for first.

bucky could feel something was wrong the second he landed. people had been happy to see him for sure, but there was a buzz around the boys. they were all looking at each other, over him, like they were all sharing a secret he couldn't be privy to right now. it was driving him crazy and that was saying something.

"buck alright?" he found himself asking because if anyone liked to tiptoe around him, it was usually around his best friend but everyone seemed to jovial for that to be the case. even kenny was here with that god damn stupid grin on his face that the rest of them seemed to be wearing. what was he missing?

"yea bucks fine, he's flying today but nothing to worry about, just dropping supplies, we just thought there might be someone else you wanted to see." blakely offered with a nod of his head, and john was sure his face was a continued picture of confusion as he watched the men part like some sort of celebrity was on base but his frown quickly vanished as he saw her. the last time he had seen her this clearly she had kissed him goodbye before they had dragged themselves away from each other.

"we've been waiting for you, john egan." god her voice was even sweeter then he remembered but it was the we in her statement that drew his attention to the small bundle in her arms. a baby. a boy by the looks of it and he felt his stomach drop. she had moved on, of course she had. without him around he wasn't surprised that someone else had scooped her up. he moved to look at each of his men, trying to find which one looked guilty but he was met with more excitement, a little confusion even, what were they surprised he was heart broken she hadn't waited for him.

"you going to stand there all day or are you going to come meet him?" she asked, voice soft as she raised a hand to him and bucky moved towards her without much of a thought because no one seemed ready to stop him and his fingers linked with hers as soon as they were in reach. "you had a baby." john smiled down at her softly, eyes full of wonder as he looked at the small version of herself that she had created.

" i sure did." she nodded with a smile the men hadn't seen in months, the one reserved just for bucky. "i'd like you to meet thomas gale egan." time stood still for a moment then, john was sure of it as he looked between her and the baby she was holding, his blue eyes taking in each feature of the infant before him. their eyes matched he realised after a moment, the dark curls on his head were the wrong shade to be hers, they were his. she was holding his son. "baby...you had my baby?" he asked, as if he needed some sort of further confirmation of what his eyes at told him.

"mhumm, i told you, we've been waiting for you, do you want to hold him?" she offered, her face a mirror of the men around them, all smiles and joy and as john took tommy in his hands with such care she stopped trying to fight the tears that had been ready to spill since she'd heard he was home. with tears rolling down his own cheeks john took in the baby that watched him with what he hoped was quiet wonder, he had a whole baby boy that he had never known about and he was perfect. "thomas gale egan, it sure is good to meet you." reaching a spare arm around her bucky pulled his girl close to his side, unable to move his gaze from his son.

"alright any of you clowns going to tell me what else i missed whilst i was gone?"

he had been sure that he would sleep for hours when he returned to base. that his body would crash and that he would need time to recover but he had never felt more wired than he did as he stretched out in bed. it had taken john far to long to shake the rest of the boys, listening to stories of how each of them had helped his girl at some point. stories of all tommy's firsts since he had been born, the photos they'd managed to get all offered to john so he could piece together the time he had missed.

he'd stepped away from them only to check on gale when he had landed who had offered him the biggest grin and wondered if he had met his name sake yet, john still unable to believe she had named their boy so well.

nothing about his should have surprised him though, she was perfect, she had been before he had gone and now as he watched her tucked into his side sleeping softly like her own body could finally rest. tommy was spread across his chest, warm skin to skin, sound sleep on him with his little mouth wide opened as he showed no sign of being anything other that utterly content as he slept on his dad, one of john's hand spread across his tiny back taking up the whole space but to afraid to let him or his mom go as if either of them might vanish on him.

feeling her stir a little in his arms john pulled his gaze from tommy for a second to meet sleepy eyes, his chest flooding with more love for her than he had ever thought possible when he'd had to leave her a life time ago now. "you struggling to sleep?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep as she checked on tommy for a second before her eyes met john's once more. "i'm scared i'm still in that camp and neither of you are real." his confession was quiet as he offered it and with a soft hum, she pushed gently, pressing her lips to his. "sleep daddy, we will both be here in the morning."

"i just want to watch him a little longer." john offered quietly, tucking her back into his arm so she could sleep once more. if he never slept again it wouldn't be a shock to him. how he was ever meant to stop looking at this? well bucky just didn't know. "thanks for waiting for me, baby." he offered, to her sleeping form, lips pressing a kiss to the top of her own curls. he'd been waiting for them too, he'd just not known how to dare dream of it, till they were here in his arms.

[joelsrose]

Roses & Rust

Eek!! Guys this is my first ever Joel slow burn fanfic I hope you guys enjoy !! I have the next few chapters ready to post so please let me know if you want me to post them!!! Super slow burn slay .. enjoy babies xx this is not super accurate to the time jump and age in the game and show - reader is late 20s and Joel is late 40’s early 50’s!!

Next chapter

Summary: In a world ravaged by infection and chaos, survival is all that remains. Once a doctor with a life filled with love and promise, you've spent the last eight years fighting your way through a broken landscape, haunted by the loss of everything you once held dear. When a chance encounter with Joel Miller and Tess brings you into the Boston QZ, your journey takes a turn you never expected. As you both navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, an unexpected romance begins to bloom, fragile and uncertain, against the backdrop of survival.

Chapter 1: Thorns of Survival

Survival. That was all your life had been for the last eight years. Every step, every breath, every decision—focused solely on staying alive. You grunted as you trudged through the overgrown streets, boots caked in mud, legs heavy with exhaustion. The worn-out, hand-drawn map in your hand was a relic from a raider you’d killed days ago—maybe weeks. Time had become meaningless, lost in the blur of surviving. All you could focus on was your destination: the Boston QZ.

The city loomed ahead, a jagged silhouette against the dull, gray sky. Its once-proud buildings, now hollowed-out husks, stood like tombstones marking the death of the world you once knew. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, the chill creeping in as the wind picked up. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of your pack digging into your shoulders, but you pushed forward, driven by the faint glimmer of hope that the QZ might offer something—anything—resembling stability.

But that was all it was now—just survival. There was a time, eight years ago, when your life had been so much more than that. You were barely 23, freshly graduated from med school, and engaged to the love of your life. Back then, your future had been bright, full of promise. You’d worked so hard, every hour spent studying, every sacrifice made, all to build a life you could be proud of. The career, the home, the family—you had it all mapped out.

And then the outbreak happened.

You hadn’t been prepared for how quickly it would all crumble. One day, you were planning a wedding, discussing where you’d go on your honeymoon. The next, the world had descended into chaos. The infection spread like wildfire, burning through cities, turning people into monsters. The man you’d planned to spend your life with—your future—was ripped away from you in a brutal instant. The infection didn’t even give you time to say goodbye. You could still hear his voice, sometimes, echoing in the back of your mind, telling you everything would be alright. But it wasn’t. It never would be again.

The ache of his loss never left you. It just dulled, becoming part of you, settling in the empty spaces where your future used to be. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the memory of his face, the way he used to make you laugh, the plans you had both dreamed of. You didn’t let yourself think about it too often—not anymore. It hurt too much. There was no room for that kind of pain in this world. It would swallow you whole if you let it.

Your hand instinctively tightened around the strap of your backpack, feeling the reassuring weight of the medical supplies inside—your last real bargaining chip. An assortment of drugs, benzos, antibiotics. Enough to trade for ration cards, enough to buy you time. You’d managed to hold onto them through every close call, every brush with the infected and the living threats alike. That was your edge, your way in.

As you approached the towering walls of the QZ, the scene before you was bleak. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their faces hard, their eyes scanning the crowd with the kind of weariness that came from years of seeing too much. People milled about, dirty, tired, hungry. You didn’t stand out. You were just one more lost soul looking for a way to survive.

A guard stepped forward, stopping you with a rifle slung across his chest. The scanner in his hand beeped to life as he raised it to your forehead. You stood still, barely breathing, until the small device let out a soft beep—green.

“Move along,” he muttered, not even sparing you a glance as he waved you through.

You stepped past the gate, feeling the weight of the city settle around you. Welcome to Boston.

•••

Your living space was barely more than a box. The apartment, if you could even call it that, was wedged in one of the many crumbling buildings in Area 4, packed with people like you—survivors, or at least, those trying to be. The building was a decaying relic of a forgotten world, its walls cracked and peeling, the floors groaning underfoot with every step, as if the weight of too many broken lives was pressing down on it.

Inside, the room was a suffocating, grim little square. A single cot was shoved against the wall, the mattress so thin it felt like you were lying on the floor itself. In one corner, a rusted sink dripped relentlessly, a slow, rhythmic reminder that time was passing—whether you wanted it to or not. Above it hung a small mirror, cracked down the center. You caught your reflection as you passed by, your braid fraying, dark circles hanging like shadows under your eyes. You barely recognized yourself anymore. That bright-eyed girl from eight years ago—freshly graduated, engaged, so full of hope—felt like a ghost haunting someone else’s life.

A small window, smudged and grimy, let in just enough gray light to remind you there was a world outside. But the view wasn’t much—just crumbling concrete and the ever-present silhouettes of soldiers patrolling below.

The few belongings you had were scattered on a makeshift shelf: an old, dog-eared Murakami novel, a half-melted candle, a crumpled photo of a past life. Everything here felt temporary, fleeting.

Under the poor excuse for a bed, you’d stashed your most valuable possession—your bag of medications and supplies. Hidden away, out of sight. In a place like this, trust was a luxury you couldn’t afford.

The Boston QZ felt like a prison. Every inch of it was crawling under the weight of control. Soldiers were everywhere—stoic, unflinching, rifles always at the ready, their eyes sweeping over the crowds with cold detachment.

You never went anywhere without feeling their gaze on you. They were always watching, waiting for someone to slip up. And when they did, the consequences were brutal. You’d seen it in your first few days—one wrong beep from a scanner, one foot out of line, and that was it. No second chances. No mercy. The executions were swift, cold, and left a weight in the air that lingered long after the bodies were gone.

Curfew was like a countdown to death. 6:00 PM to 6:00 AM. No exceptions. You’d watched as people scrambled to get indoors, their eyes darting nervously at the darkening sky, fear written in every step. No one wanted to test the military’s patience. You certainly didn’t.

For the first few weeks, you did what everyone else did—kept your head down, worked random jobs, and stayed in the shadows. The QZ was a labyrinth of desperation, everyone clawing for a foothold. The ration lines seemed to stretch forever, and the food was barely enough to keep people alive, let alone thriving.

But you quickly realized that wasn’t going to cut it. Not if you wanted more than just survival.

You spent your time observing, slipping through the cracks of the city, watching. Areas 1, 3, and 4 were heavily controlled, military checkpoints at every turn. But Area 5—that was different. It was a world unto itself, tucked away from the watchful eyes of FEDRA. The black market thrived here, an underground pulse of illicit trades and dangerous deals. People did what they had to. And you knew you’d have to do the same.

That was when you saw them.

You didn’t know their names yet, but you noticed how they moved through the market with a calm, quiet authority—like they owned it. The woman was tall, sharp-eyed, her voice low but commanding as she negotiated trades with surgical precision. She knew how to read people, how to get what she wanted without ever raising her voice.

The man was quieter, in his late 40s maybe, with a patchy beard of graying hair and hands that looked like they’d seen more than their fair share of rough work. He didn’t need to speak. His presence alone parted crowds, people stepping aside without a word, their eyes flicking nervously in his direction as if they knew better than to cross him.

You watched them for days, curiosity gnawing at you. Who were they? How had they carved out a space for themselves in this cutthroat world? They were always together, moving in sync, but their relationship was unclear. Partners? Lovers? Friends? You didn’t know—and for some reason, it bothered you that you couldn’t tell.

But one thing was certain: they weren’t just surviving. They were thriving. And if you wanted to last here, you needed to figure out how.

•••

The sun was just beginning to set, casting long shadows across the streets as the QZ slowly shifted from its harsh, daylight routine into something even darker. You stood by your window, watching the light fade, waiting for the right moment. The curfew would soon push everyone inside, and the soldiers would become more scarce. You’d been observing their patrols for days, mapping out the routes they took, the blind spots they didn’t bother covering. After all, Area 5 was its own beast, and even FEDRA seemed to know it wasn’t worth patrolling too heavily.

This wasn’t just a gamble—it was the result of days of careful planning. You had finally managed to set up your first trade, something you never would have attempted when you first arrived in the QZ. The world of smuggling and black-market dealings had been foreign to you then, a stark contrast to your life as a doctor. But now, with ration cards running low and survival becoming more desperate by the day, you had no choice but to adapt.

When the streets were finally cloaked in darkness, you grabbed the bag of benzos from under your bed. Your heart hammered in your chest as you slid the strap over your shoulder, casting a glance at the small mirror by the sink.

The alleyways were quieter now, the usual shuffle of desperate people retreating behind closed doors. The only sound was the distant hum of generators and the occasional clatter of boots on concrete. You took the path you’d memorized, the one that snaked through the backstreets where FEDRA never seemed to bother. Every step felt heavier than the last, your nerves gnawing at you. But you kept going.

The alley where the trade would go down was just ahead. Dark and narrow, it was tucked between two abandoned buildings, far from the reach of the patrols. You’d seen it used before—traders slipping in and out, never lingering too long. It seemed perfect for what you needed, but still, the unease in your stomach hadn’t left.

You arrived first, of course. You leaned against the damp brick wall, the weight of the bag heavy against your side as you waited. Your breath was shallow, hands slightly trembling as you clutched the strap tighter. You tried to shake it off. You’d seen others make trades here—dangerous deals, sure, but ones that had paid off.

But as the minutes ticked by, the unease twisted deeper.

He was late.

The alley was darker than you expected, shadows swallowing everything except the faint glow of the streetlight far at the entrance. When he finally appeared, slithering out of the shadows, his grin was wide and crooked, eyes gleaming with something you didn’t like.

“Well, if I knew my trader was such a fine young thing, I would've dressed up for the occasion,” he drawled, his voice dripping with false charm.

Your stomach twisted, regret settling in like a heavy stone. This was a mistake.

You steeled yourself, jaw tight, and handed him the bag. “I’ve got your stuff.”

His smirk deepened as he took it from you, the way his eyes lingered making your skin crawl. “Relax, darlin’. Doesn’t have to be all business,” he murmured, stepping closer, his fingers brushing your arm.

Your blood ran cold. His hand lingered too long, his body closing the space between you, and you felt panic surge. You’d faced the infected, raiders, betrayal—but men like him were something worse. They looked at you like you were nothing but an opportunity. Your heart raced, but your feet stayed frozen, rooted to the ground by fear.

And then, a voice cut through the dark.

“Let her go.”

The voice was low, steady, with a hint of an accent—something southern, but rough around the edges. It sent a chill down your spine.

The thug stiffened, his smirk fading as he glanced over your shoulder. You turned slowly, and there he was—the man you’d been watching for weeks. Tall, broad-shouldered, his eyes cold and sharp as steel. The weight of his presence was enough to make the trader in front of you hesitate.

“This isn’t your business, man,” the thug sneered, though there was a crack of fear in his voice.

The man took a step forward, his hand resting casually on the gun at his hip. “It is now.”

The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible. The thug wasn’t stupid. He knew when he was outmatched. With a frustrated growl, he tossed the bag of benzos at your feet and slunk back into the shadows.

You stood there, heart pounding, too shocked to even say thank you. The man stepped forward, his eyes flicking down at the bag before meeting yours. His gaze was piercing, and you felt like he could see right through you—like he knew exactly who you were and everything you’d been through.

“Next time,” he said quietly, his voice steady, “watch who you deal with.”

And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, as easily as he had arrived.

You stood there, shaken to your core, but with one thing clear in your mind: your world had just collided with his.

[neteyamssyulang]

Accidental stimulation

Day 9

Pairing: Neteyam aged up x Fem tawtute reader

Summary: you and Neteyam grew up together as your father Norm and his father Jake were close friends. One day as your over at the sully’s you notice his stare lingering on you but don’t comment on it till that night when something happens.

Warnings: Dom Neteyam, Sub reader, P in V, Fingering, Explicit language, Creampie, Bit of kuru play.

Word count: 1365

Translation(s): Ma yuey syulang -> my beautiful flower, Yawne -> Beloved.

A/N: so this is my first kinktober post! I hope you all enjoy <3

Tags: @pandoraslxna @teyamsatan -idk who else would want to be tagged😭-

It was a quiet day in the lab, the scientists all agreeing that one day off wouldn’t hurt so they all slept in. You had jus woken up and changed into a simple blue T-shirt along with black shorts when there was a knock on your door.

“One minute!” You shout at whoever is there but the knocking persists making you annoyed. Huffing you open the door only to see Lo’ak holding his hands up in surrender.

“Easy tiny” he chuckles nervously. “Mom and dad wanted me to invite you over tonight”

Your face lit up at his words as you loved going to the sully’s and hopefully spending the night. It was your second home besides the lab. “Ok, I’ll be there”

Nodding at words he goes to leave but hisses in pain as a book gets thrown at the back of his head. “Next time knock only once skxawng”

He gulps before running to the exit of the lab covering his head in fear of more books or anything being thrown at him.

He’s so annoying but you love him like a brother. You spend the next few hours just relaxing in your room only going out to get some food or water.

When the time finally came for you to head to the sully’s you quickly changed into an oversized shirt along with baggy sweats as it could get pretty cold, atleast for you.

Exiting the lab you walk on the path towards the village while keeping an eye out for any predators that might want a human as a late night snack.

After a few minutes you reach the village and make your way to the sully’s hut eventually entering it. Looking around you see Neytiri preparing some fresh telu along with slices of yovu fruit.

Your mouth watering at the sight, you’ve always preferred na’vi food over the food the scientists made, it just tasted better for some reason.

The woman glances up at you and smiles “Come in, come in Ma’Ite” she gestures for you to come inside and sit which you do. Your seated next to her watching as she continues preparing dinner.

She must have sensed your confusion on where everyone else is so she speaks “Jake took them to the lake so afterwards they’ll be tired and sleep, especially Tuk”

You stifle a giggle and nod “That was a smart idea” to which she chuckles softly nodding. A few minutes pass before Jake walks into the hut carrying Tuk while Neteyam, Lo’ak and Kiri follow behind.

Jake places Tuk on the other side of Neytiri, he then takes his spot infront of you leaving Neteyam to sit next to you and Lo’ak by Jake. That’s how it always was, except for this time when he traded places with Lo’ak making you curious but didn’t say anything.

Once everyone was eating you noticed Neteyam glancing at you while he ate only to look away when you tried capturing his gaze with yours. That happened all throughout dinner till Jake and Neytiri said for everyone to go to bed.

Thanking them for the food you went to where your sleeping mat was at the corner of the hut with a privacy screen around it. Jake installed it as you grew older so you’d be more comfortable, you liked it yes but didn’t really need it, or so you thought.

Your woken up to the sound of the privacy screen opening only to be closed again shortly afterwards. Closing your eyes again you pretend your sleeping so whoever it is can leave.

“Ma yuey syulang..” the person mumbles quietly and immediately you know it’s him.

“I know your awake y/n” Neteyam whispers next to your ear sending shivers down your spine. You still pretend to be asleep hinting for him to go away since no one’s allowed in here but you obviously.

“Teyam go, your not allowed in here” you whisper shout at him but he doesn’t budge. Instead he lays down spooning you while his tail wraps protectively around your thigh. “But I missed my favorite tawtute”

You groan annoyed but sigh “Then shh and let me sleep.” He says a quick ok before nuzzling into your neck inhaling your comforting scent and moves his leg between yours accidentally pressing against your core making you whimper softly.

An idea suddenly pops into his mind and as your trying to fall back asleep you feel him slip his hand down past your pants into your panties cupping your mound in his palm.

“T-teyam? What are you do-“ your cut off as he plunges two of his long fingers into your drenched hole. It took everything in you to not scream as his family is just on the other side of the screen.

“Shh sevin, gotta stretch you first” your bestfriend says as he starts pumping his fingers into you curling them. Placing a hand on your mouth you try to hold back your moans but damn does it feel good.

Neteyam smirks feeling your walls fluttering against his fingers signaling you were close. “Come on sevin, cum for me”

Your body immediately obeys releasing onto his fingers while holding back your moans, he groans pulling them out of you before licking them clean. “You taste so good yawne.”

Quickly he unties his tewng taking it off throwing it off to side doing the same with your pants and panties as he lays down on his back pulling you ontop of him. “Your too big Teyam it’s not going to fit..”

He chuckles softly “Oh it will don’t worry.” With that he presses the tip to your entrance slowly sinking you down onto him. “F-fuck your so tight..” he says through clenched teeth trying to be quiet still.

You can’t even form any words, his cock is stretching you out so deliciously good so when he finally bottoms out his mushroomy tip is nested against your cervix.

After getting adjusted you give him the go ahead to move and he slowly starts to thrust up into you. “Eywa you feel so good” the na’vi whimpers softly.

With his help you begin to move against him matching his thrusts making you hold your hand to your mouth to stifle the moans threatening to break free.

Your other hand reaches down for his kuru gently tugging on it making him hiss in both pain and pleasure. You watch his eyes widen as you bring the beautiful pink tendrils to your tongue letting them wrap around it.

He shudders pumping faster inside you making you let go of his kuru, it detaches from your tongue and you collapse ontop of him hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Taking the chance he wraps one arm around your waist and the other around your neck keeping you in place as he goes harder.

You want to scream, let him know how good he’s making you feel but you can’t. The only sounds in the hut are of his family snores and the faint sound of his balls slapping against your clit which immediately send you over the edge.

“Almost there yawne almost there I promise” he pants quietly. Squeezing his eyes shut he feels his orgasm rapidly approaching, you feel him throb inside you before he stills spilling his hot load deep into your empty womb.

Carefully he sits up and pulls out of you with a squelching sound watching his cum drip down your thighs. He lowers you onto the sleeping mat getting a cloth and dips it into a bowl with water cleaning you up as gently as he could.

Finding your panties he decides to keep them for himself and just put your pants back on while he puts his tewng back on stuffing your panties into it for safekeeping.

Honestly you don’t care about that but smile as he lays down pulling you ontop of him whispering “Goodnight yawne.” You manage to mumble out a goodnight too as you eventually fall asleep listening to his heartbeat.

Making sure your asleep and alright the mighty warrior allows himself to fall into a deep peaceful sleep.

[iouinotes]

All for you | Carl Gallagher

pairing: Carl Gallagher x female!reader

show: Shameless

warnings: angst, fluff, smut (the reader and Carl are 18 years old in this ff)

summary: Carl is challenged that he can get your money, if he makes you fall in love with him. He loves the challenge until he loves something else more...

authors note: sorry for so many pov switched, I didnt notice it, when I first wrote this ff. Also I haven't had the chance to watch all the seasons yet, but I still hope that Carl's character is somewhat accurate :))

Carl's pov

"Frank, goddamit youre no help! Why are you even lying around here - oh forget it, I don't want to hear it." Fiona's voice echoes in the room, while the entire Gallagher household is present.

The everyday discussion has been going on for too many minutes in which I could have done something better. The damn question “How do we get enough money?”

Lip at college, Ian with his gangster boyfriend, my shitty sister with her kid and then Liam. This family is screwed. No wonder with a father like Frank.

As the argument continues to escalate, I have the misfortune of sitting right next to him.

"You care to share some money, son?" Of course, my attempts to ignore him are unsuccessful.

"The drug trade doesn't always work out so well, but the weapon thing was something. You could give one to your good old dad, you know what the neighborhood is like." I run my hands through my hair in frustration, shaking my head.

"Just get one or two girls pregnant at school, then all of our problems are solved. But she has to be rich. After all, you want to get your hard work paid." Why the hell am I still here?

"You used to be more enthusiastic about my ideas. If you don't want to do play daddy, then use your charm. When I was your age, my cock was enough and the girls were happy."

"Be fucking quiet, no one wants to hear about your pathetic youth." It's no use, he keeps talking.

"I'm only saying, If you make a rich girl fall in love with you, then you can get money to do something nice for your family."

As I get up and walk away from him I take a breath, the tension caused by this idiot sucks.

Still, his words got me thinking. Maybe there's a new girl who would be perfect for this job...

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

When I moved here, I wasn't sure what to expect. New school, maybe mean classmates and bad cafeteria food. That I might be able to join a group and make friends, people who laugh with me in class or go to the cinema together on weekends.

I was prepared to get lost in the hallways a few times, perhaps to be peppered with embarrassing questions by the teachers. I had even prepared myself for being called a nerd again and therefore spending my lunch breaks alone.

Then things turned out differently. I met two girls who, although they scared me at first with their need to gossip all the time, are good people at heart.

They studied with me (meaning they told me the newest gossip and braided my hair while I did our homework), showed me the city and its pitfalls. I felt comfortable, prepared and confident for what awaited me here.

Oh lord, was I wrong.

On a Thursday in the middle of the week I met a boy who messed everything up. Literally.

I met him when he was running through the halls twenty minutes late, but stupidly didn't pay attention to me, who was about to cross his path. Let's put it this way, it ended with my books on the floor, my jacket hanging off my shoulder, and his hair being a huge mess.

When he looked at me, I expected to hear something like "sorry" or "I'll help you."

You want to know what he said?

"Cute top. Let me know if you need help taking it off."

Then he got up casually and walked into the classroom across the hallway, a grin on his face as if he had won the Bachelor title.

After this encounter two things became very clear to me. 1. Look both ways when crossing the halls and 2. Stop daydreaming about this boy, even if he has beautiful blue eyes.

The first thing worked better than the second.

After a few descriptions, which actually only consisted of "incredibly impudent and incredibly good-looking", it was explained to me who I was dealing with.

Carl Gallagher. A boy who has lived here since he was born, someone who is rumoured to be more dangerous than the Italian Mafia.

Even though I thought that was exaggerated, I quickly realized that I should stay away from him and that he meant trouble.

Aside from the fact that I wasn't going to be in the situation of talking to him again anyway, my eyes couldn't stop themselves from looking at him.

There was something that defined him, something that made me want to watch a grin creep across his face when he made an inappropriate joke, how he would push his blonde hair back and his eyes would shine mischievously, as if he had already planned the next bank robbery.

I wasn't the only one who found his charisma attractive tho, of course not when he looked like one of God's angels, but he never really seemed interested in other girls. At least not with any serious intent, you might hear him flirting or making comments about his free bed, but you would never saw him in a relationship.

He never held hands or kissed anyone, had a real smile on his face or said sweet things, he was just Carl.

Suggestive, hot-tempered and like a flag that proclaimed: Stay away from me, because you will lose this fight.

I also felt that if I continued to watch him, I would lose the battle for platonic feelings towards him too.

"Please don't tell me you're looking at our school bad boy again. You better be careful, he might want to sell you a gun." Kenzie's voice makes me sigh.

"These are just rumors. Besides, it's not my fault, he's just -" Her hand on my shoulder interrupts me.

"We know, you have heart eyes every time you talk about him. There are so many great guys in this world, I'm not saying at this school, but you choose this one?" Her look says more than a thousand words as she looks over at Carl, who is pushing his way trough the crowd.

"I'm not in love, just curious. Those are two different things, okay?" Her eyebrows raise.

"You mean, curious how his lips would feel on yours?" Her laughter at my expression is lost in the sounds of the cafeteria.

"Very funny." I murmur to her, food forgotten on my plate. When the school bell rings, I stand up and pick up my backpack.

"My class is canceled now, but I'm going to the library. Will you meet me later?" As I walk backwards I see her thumbs up and the hearts she makes in Carl's direction. My reaction is two quick middle fingers.

As I walk out of the school building, I check my phone and tie my hair into a braid. The library is a few blocks away and the cool air makes me shiver.

When I get there and wave to the boy at the entrance, I turn to my favorite department. Call it cliche, but I love romance books. I mean, I don't know what it feels like to love someone with all my heart, but that doesn't mean I don't love reading about it.

The books I actually need are a few rows away. History, literature, everything I am assigned to get for school.

As I stroke over a few tapes and finally pull out a book to read the first few pages, I hear a noise next to me that makes me look up. After all, the library is usually a pretty quiet place.

As I look into the familiar blue eyes, I feel my cheeks turn red.

I have to stop myself from staring.

"Always a book in your hand, I see." Oh his voice hasn't changed. I try to shrug casually as I answer, but I'm not sure if it actually works.

"Aren't you going to be late for class again?" At my sarcasm he smiles, he takes a step in my direction which weakens my control over my voice.

"I thought I would learn something somewhere else too." These coded words make me swallow.

"So, you're here often?" I almost think he's not answering me, but maybe I'm just not concentrating, because I'm paying too much attention to every mole on his face.

"Actually, I didn't even know this shitty town had a library." His words make me laugh, but several requests to be quiet around us, make me whisper in response.

"Then why are you here?" I think my breathing stops as his hand brushes my fingers that are still holding the book.

"You're here." I feel my heart beating nervously faster, I probably look pretty confused and when I notice his grin, something flutters in my chest.

"No interest in books, huh?" Can my answer actually be any lamer?

"Dont worry, I have a newfound interest in you."

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would become friends with Carl Gallagher, I would have found the idea absolutely crazy. To be honest, I still find the situation insane, but damn my cheeks still turn just as red when he's with me as they did the first time.

It turns out that he really has no interest in books, even though he visited me at the library almost every day since we met in the romance department.

I've never met anyone like him, funny and couragous without any reserve, always looking for trouble, acting self-confident. But also sweet.

He's like a current that pulls you along, like a wind that blows so hard that you fly with it. He feels like freedom and it is wonderful.

He makes me laugh, he carries my books, plays with my hair, walks home with me. In such a short time I feel like he didn't knock on the doors to my heart, instead he made a home there.

Maybe this is what it feels like to fall in love.

It's not a gentle announcement, more of a realization that makes you incredibly desperate and happy at the same time.

But with him I actually just feel happy.

"Ready, sunshine?" As soon as I come out of the classroom, he comes towards me and takes my bag from me. My heart jumps at his gesture, which feels like winning the Olympics.

"You're crazy, where do you even want to go?" He has something planned but won't tell me. When he puts his arm around my shoulder and I lean against him, I get a few sideways glances from our classmates.

Carl ignores everyone like always, it's crazy but the way he's so confident is pretty attractive to me.

"Does the guy in your cheesy books also tell you where they go on dates? I bet not, so just wait."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

"It feels like you're kidnapping me."

I feel his smile on my back and have to giggle quietly at his response.

"Mh, I plan to do that. But only for a few hours, otherwise my head will roll tomorrow. Your father takes your curfew pretty seriously."

I feel his hands on my hips, guiding me forward, hear the birds chirping around us, but can't figure out where we're going.

"Just a few more steps, baby. Then you'll see." As he promised, it is only a few meters away and when I see a small, calm lake, my mouth falls open in surprise.

"Carl, oh my God! It's wonderful here, thank you so much." I turn around in his grip and look at him, his smile reflects the love that I feel.

"Yeah? How much do you like it?" As his eyes focus on my lips, I feel a tingling feeling in my stomach. Slowly, my fingers stroke his chest and I see him swallow, even though he tries to hide it.

"I think it's incredibly beautiful here, I love it. And...I really like you." I shyly lower my gaze, my words are met with an unknown silence that makes me anxious after a few seconds. But when I look up at him again, he pushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

"To me, you are much more beautiful than this sight. I like you too and I thought that was pretty obvious." I smile broadly, butterflies fly around in my stomach and as the sun illuminates his face, I feel incredibly happy.

"You're so nice to me, I don't know how I deserve this." An expression crosses his face, but when I blink he smiles at me again.

"After all, you are the first person who explained the topics for the history exam to me, without giving up." My hand cups his cheek.

"I wouldn't give you up, you've become too important to me." As I stand on my tiptoes, our lips brush, his hand is on my back and pushes me closer to him.

"You are an angel." With his words we kiss and everything else around us blurs, only he remains. Everything is unimportant except him, standing in front of me, so handsome, that it is difficult not to look at him.

"Come on, let's go for a swim." As he pulls me towards the lake, you can hear our loud laughter in the air.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"When are you going to collect the money? You've been with her for the last three months and nothing has come of it." Frank's annoying voice frustrates me more than anything else.

"I am working on it. Besides, she's actually really caring." When I see the dismissive hand gesture in my direction, I roll my eyes.

"You are completely wrong, son. A person is there for a certain period of time, but money? Money accompanies you throughout your life, especially if you buy beautiful bottles of the best alcohol."

I sink into the sofa, but want to turn away when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"If you put it off any longer, it will be harder to get out of the situation. Girls your age will start planning to get married, if you stay with them for months."

But when he leaves, I feel conflicted. Can I really do this to her?

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"Happy birthday!" Her voice makes me jump and, confused, I turn around on the bench to look into her excited eyes.

"Why are you jumping around like that? Are you practicing for cheerleading?" I'm making fun of her, but the smile on her face doesn't fade.

"No, idiot. I'm just really curious to see how you react to your gift." My breath catches for a moment as I take in her words.

"You got me something?" When she leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek while pressing the bag into my lap, I start to smile too.

"Open!" Her encouragement breaks me out of my trance and I quickly tear up the paper, looking at the tickets with wide eyes.

"But...these tickets cost a fortune? Did you sell your liver or something?" When I look at her, she smiles back at me.

"I talked to my dad and he agreed that you deserve something special for your birthday. Are you happy?" As I look at the cards, I suddenly feel a pang in my heart. It must be showing on my face, because her happiness is also fading away.

"Do you not like it? I thought it was your favorite team? I can get you something else." When I look at her, I quickly pull her between my legs and kiss her.

"Shh, breathe angel. It's perfect, thank you. And well, your father. It's just a lot of money." Her hands play with the fabric of my shirt.

"You always say that. Do you have problems at home, with money, I mean? I've never been to your place, I don't even know where you live." What should I say to her now?

"It's okay." Her raised eyebrows look at me reproachfully, making me sigh.

"Each of us has to contribute a certain amount of money every month and if I don't sell fucking drugs, it will be tight." Her astonished look makes me pause and I gently stroke her arms.

Before I can say anything else, she kisses me. I look at her in surprise.

"What's that for?" She smiles shyly, looks at the floor for a moment before looking at me again.

"You're just so honest, I admire that. And that you've never asked me for anything, you know. That I lend you some money."

Fuck. Shit. What do I say?

"Yeah, I mean, I don't want to burden you with that-" but she interrupts me again, her concentrated expression makes me curious.

"What's going on in your pretty head?" My hands wander over her sides.

"It's the end of the month, how much are you missing?" I frown in confusion, but when she doesn't let it go, I tell her the amount.

"$240, the rest I earned by helping in the neighborhood." But despite the high sum, she just nods, looks at me again and gives me another kiss.

"Okay, maybe I'll be your sugar mommy." I have to laugh at the absurdity, but the longer she grins at me, the more I think she means it.

"What, are you serious? Thats fucking crazy, how am I supposed to pay you back?" Her eyes look around, but since the classroom is relatively empty during recess, she finds herself between my legs again. She slowly lets her hand wander down my stomach until she squeezes my cock through my clothes and I close my eyes in delight.

"Hmm, maybe you could help me relax between classes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously and I look at her with a grin.

"Anything you want, sugar."

Let's put it this way, the next few weeks the breaks were filled with kissing in the back corner of the classroom, dry humping on the toilet or Carl doing his best to pleasure me with his tongue in the caretaker's room, like now.

"Ahh-, Carl. I'll cum if you keep that up." His head has disappeared under my skirt, his fingers are stroking the bare skin of my thigh and the sinful movements of his tongue are making me see stars.

As he adds a finger and runs it over my folds, slowly until he inserts it, he looks at me again.

"You coming for me? Yeah, be a good girl or do you want to get caught by the old janitor grandpa spreading your legs for me?" As my eyes roll back, he pumps another finger into me, scissoring it thoroughly and hitting that sweet spot inside me.

When I moan loudly, he grins.

"You like that? Just wait until I bury my cock in you and you cant walk straight afterwards, so that everyone will notice." When his finger presses my clitoris, I see white and as I come I try to muffle the sounds with my hand over my mouth.

When I get off my high, I blindly search for my panties. But Carl beats me first.

"Hmm, no. I think I'll keep it as a little souvenir. Maybe you can get it back when you come to my house later." I don't know what surprises me more: that he wants me to run around exposed at school or that I'm invited to his house for the first time.

"Really? I'd like to come." But he interprets my words differently, his fingers stroke my entrance again and I moan and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Very well and for a very long time." When the bell rings, he lets go of me and I whimper slightly.

"Carl-" but he interrupts me by pulling back and straightening my skirt.

"I'm sure our agreement was between recess, now it's class time. Come on, I'll make it up to you later."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

As we ride the bus toward his home, I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

"But don't expect a mansion or any of that shit." Ever since we left school, he has been bad-mouthing his hometown every free minute he has.

"Don't worry, I'll only have eyes for you anyway." The statement makes him laugh and he relaxes a little. As we get out and walk a little way along the street, we are watched by a few people.

"Why are so many people staring at us?" When he look at me, I'm obviously confused.

"Not everyone here wears designer clothes that cost several thousand dollars. If you come here more often, they'll call you a princess." Giggling, I slap him on the arm and as we climb the stairs to his house, I look around curiously.

"So this is where you grew up." His shoulders shrug casually, but I see him trying to gauge my reaction.

"Yeah, where in the world could it be nicer?" I laugh at his sarcastic comment and we both smile at each other as we enter the house.

I hear him calling into the house, then a girl with red hair appears, carrying a baby.

"You must be Debbie, the little one is so adorable." When I hold out my hand, she just looks at Carl with her eyebrows still raised.

"What did you do to end up with her? Also my daughter's name is Franny and yes, I know condoms exist." Surprised, I don't know exactly how to answer, so I leave it to Carl.

"My tongue is magic, Debs. Too bad you won't find out yourself anytime soon, Derek has moved away. By the way, Franny seems hungry." I'm unsure of the dynamic between the two of them, as she turns away and walks away, I resist the urge to say goodbye.

"That was...nice." His hand pulling me towards the stairs distracts me.

"She's a real ray of sunshine, come on. The others aren't back yet, so you can be as loud as you want this time."

When we get upstairs, he leads me into his room and I look at the magazines, posters and little things scattered everywhere.

"Cleaning and you are definitely not friends, huh?" I laugh at my joke, but Carl has other plans than letting me inspect his room.

He puts his hands on my hips and pushes me against the closed door, my breath catches as his eyes find mine.

"Do you want to keep playing housemaid? Then put on a damn maid costume, otherwise keep your eyes on me." At his stern voice, I press my thighs together and, grinning, I drag my fingers across his chest once again.

"Would you like that? Me on the floor, my ass in the air, and no underwear? Oh wait, what a coincidence that I'm not wearing any now either." His eyebrows raise, I see his eyes darken with lust.

"Let's save this little fantasy for another time, right now I just want to see you on my cock." Smiling, I lean towards him and start kissing him. I loosen the belt I bought him and pull him closer to me by his waistband.

"I think I did well today. After all, I didn't complain about getting through the school day without underwear. Do I get my reward now?" Grinning, he takes off my top and looks at my lace bra.

"Everything you want." He drops to his knees in front of me and kisses his way along my thighs, lifts my skirt and presses a kiss to my folds. Slowly he moves his tongue higher and kisses my stomach, I lean my head against the door.

"Does that feel good?" I just nod, burying my hand in his hair as he puts his mouth on me again.

"Ahh- Carl, I want you now." His fingers stretch me, the wetness running down my legs, making me tremble.

"You got me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?" His head lifts to look at me and I place my fingers around his chin, seeing the moisture on his lips.

"I've been prepared enough, I want your dick now. Let's see if it's as magical as your tongue." Grinning, he stands up and lifts me up, lays me on my back on his bed and lies down between my legs.

He places a few kisses on my legs, then stretches up on his elbows so he's hovering over me. Then he kisses my cheek and my lips, lets his tongue slide over them and lets me taste myself.

I run my fingers through his blonde hair and pull his body closer to me. When he pulls a condom out of his pocket, I hold my breath.

"You still want to do this?" His look calms all the worries I had. I nod, stroking my fingers over his heated cheek.

"I trust you." His next kiss is passionate, his hands gliding over my body, caressing every bit of exposed skin. I lift my back off the mattress and let him take off my bra. His head lowers to run his tongue over my navel. As he sucks on them, I moan softly.

One of his hands starts kneading my breasts and when I try to take off my skirt, he stops me.

"Leave it on, okay?" I kiss him in response.

His hand strokes my sides and my own hands rest on his shoulders as he presses the tip of his cock against my entrance.

"Ready, baby?" When I agree, he presses himself into me and for a moment I have to squint my eyes because it hurts.

Then I feel several gentle kisses on my cheek, my forehead and my lips. His attempts to distract me work and as I become more and more relaxed, he slides further into me.

Slowly he presses his hips against me, the stretch so great that I can feel him all the way into my stomach. He waits for a moment, whispering sweet things in my ears until they get dirty and I beg him to move.

My hands wrap around his shoulders as he thrusts into me for the first time, the air around us thickening as he grunts and a moan escapes me.

"You're doing so well, God, you feel so good." His hips move faster and faster, the pleasure spreads through my body and the wetter I feel, the easier he slides in and out of me.

"You are perfect, my perfect girl. Do you feel good?" His hands stroke my skin, gently pinching my nipples, playing with them and making me squirm beneath him.

As he grips my hips and pushes himself harder into me, my head starts to spin. My noises get louder.

"Carl- god, please go harder" And so he does, the room is filled with the sounds of our bodies and sweat forms on us.

"Baby, do you want to ride me? You have such pretty thighs." I nod and when he pulls out of me I can't think clearly, I just want him to fill me up again.

He leans back and as I stabilize myself on his shoulders, I sink back onto him. The feeling is even better that my eyes roll back. His hands grasp my hips, helping me move.

"That's right, baby. You're doing so good, riding my cock like the good girl you are." At his words, I tighten my grip on him and he curses as I move harder on top of him.

The faster I go, the more exhausting it becomes, but as I feel a knot forming in my stomach, I ride him so fast just to chase my pleasure.

Then suddenly as he hits my spot inside me over and over again, I go boneless on him and melt in his arms. My come drips all over him and as he continues to fuck me, reaching his own climax, I tremble in his grip.

"Just a few more thrusts, baby. Ah, keep holding on to me." Even though I have lost my strength, I move on him a few more times until he comes and I lay my head on his shoulder.

We're both breathing heavily, but everything feels so good, so warm and comfortable, that I don't want to move a single muscle anymore.

He carefully pulls out of me, I moan slightly at the loss. He gently lays me back on his pillow and gives me a kiss before throwing the condom away.

He pulls the blanket over us and puts his arm around me to pull me closer. I snuggle up to him and feel so safe that I quickly press my lips to his skin.

"That was wonderful." He also presses a kiss on my hair.

"That was incredible, you are the best. I can't wait to do it again." Our embrace becomes tighter. For a moment the room is silent.

When I whisper his name, he hums in response.

"I know it's cliche to say something like that after the first time. But I just feel it so much that it hurts to keep it to myself. I love you." As I lie on his chest I hear his heart stop for a moment and then it starts beating much faster.

"I- no one has ever said that to me before." When I raise my head and look at him, he doesn't look at me. Instead, his eyes are fouced on the ceiling.

"I just want you to know. I don't want to put any pressure on you to say it. I just thought you should hear it. You know, now that things are serious between us." Again he is silent and I start to worry, but then he looks at me.

"You are truly the most incredible person I have ever met. I consider myself very lucky." He smiles at me, then leans down and we kiss for a moment. It feels like heaven.

We lay there for a few minutes, just cuddling and telling each other how our day was. We laugh and as the sun slowly sets, I start to get dressed.

"I wish I could stay here with you. But you know what my parents are like." He leans back on his elbow, watching me get dressed and contact my parents to pick me up.

"Hmm, I think we would do it again. If you stayed here tonight, I mean." I smile at him, sit down on his bed for a moment and ruffle his hair.

"I wouldn't mind, darling." The nickname makes him blush and when he leans forward to kiss me, I playfully push him away.

"I have to go, are you coming down with me?" He nods, feigning annoyance, and as we walk out of his room, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him.

He steals his kiss there, but more than that he steals my heart.

We smile at each other and for this moment everything is just perfect. We go downstairs and just as we are back in the living room we hear a door open loudly.

A visibly drunk man stumbles in. I see Carl tense up next to me, staring at the stranger angrily. I quietly lean towards him to whisper my question.

"Who is that?" When he rolls his eyes, I get a bad feeling.

"That's my father, great isn't it?" The man in front of me is dirty, has unkempt hair and an unpleasant smile on his face.

"Should I ask my parents if you can stay overnight?" My gaze is more focused on the man than on Carl.

But he just shakes his head, and just as he is about to answer, the man sees us too.

"Oh, my son! It's so good to see you, not really, but I'll take your bed. Fiona has mine. Is that your little girlfriend? She looks expensive, very good catch. How much money did you rip her off? I hope it's worth it to go through all this drama." I frown in confusion, but when Carl freezes next to me, I become uncertain.

"What does he mean by that?" This time my gaze is directed solely at Carl.

"Nothing, he's drunk-" but before he can finish, the man does.

"How rude of me, I am Frank. The proud father of this child, at least one of my descendants has made something of himself and used his talent. He has my good genes, the good looks and I teach him the tricks. Like exploiting an innocent, very very rich girl for money. It doesn't bother you, I hope? You seem to have enough, but I hope my son returns the favor to you."

The words catch me so off guard that I can't move. I don't believe anything this man says until I see the guilty look on Carl's face.

"W-what? That's a lie, right? Tell me he's lying, Carl." As he runs his hands through his hair and tries to answer me, Frank speaks again.

"Oh, you haven't confessed to her yet? My fault, I should have waited. I didn't think you would humiliate this girl for so long. I told you this wouldn't end well." But Carl ignores him completely when he notices me moving away from him.

"Wait, I'm sorry. It wasn't like that-" But I interrupt him, already feeling tears gathering in my eyes.

"So what happened? You act like you don't want any money from me and-" Carl's look becomes frustrated.

"You offered me your money! You said if I matched it, everything would be fine for you." I'm almost speechless, is this all a nightmare?

"Are you serious? I offered it to you because you weren't asking for it. And now I find out it was your plan from the beginning? You just talked to me, just spent time with me to get my money? Who does that?" Frank's voice intervenes.

"I invented the strategy, my dear. It's turning out to be quite useful." But I don't pay attention to him, I just look at Carl.

"Please, I'm sorry. Yes, it was meant that way in the beginning, but it's different now. I-" My tears flow when he admits it and any feeling of happiness disappears. All that remains is betrayal and sadness.

"You what? What am I saying, you were probably happy that I only wanted you in return. I'm such an idiot. You didn't just take my money, you took my first time too!" As he comes towards me, I step back.

"Listen to me, I didnt force you to do all this for me. You wanted it." The more he talks the more desperate I feel and the greater my anger becomes.

"You idiot! I thought you liked me! I thought you finally noticed me too." My sobs get louder and my vision blurs. When he tries to grab my face, I slap him.

"My cue to go. I can see that you're sorting it out between yourselves just fine." Frank's footsteps fading away are nothing compared to the sound of my heart breaking.

"I like you, I really like you. At first it wasn't my intention to start a relationship with you, but then I got to know you and-" Every word that escapes him is only worse.

"Stop talking! You know what the worst thing is that I liked you for so long before you even talked to me. And I thought it was a miracle when you first spoke to me in the libary. I should have listened to the others, you only care about yourself!" I wipe the tears from my cheeks, wishing I could be anywhere but here.

Then before he can say anything, I turn around and run out of the house. But I hear him following me.

"Wait! Don't just walk away, I have to get this straight. Hey!" He catches me, turns me around and holds my tear-stained face in his hands.

"I'm an idiot, I know that. I'm sorry for hurting you. I- God, I love you. You hear me? I love you too. Please stay." But I just shake my head and try to free myself from his grip.

"How do I know if that isn't a lie too? You've betrayed me, I can't talk to you now." When my car pulls up, I get in without turning around. I don't look back, even though his loud curse can be heard throughout the whole neighborhood.

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

I spend the next few days without saying much, but I cried almost the whole time.

I miss him incredibly, not a day has gone by in the last few months when I haven't seen him and now I've been alone for three days.

I wish he was here, but on the other hand I am so hurt and feel terrible. He is the reason for this.

I wish I had never found out. I wish he had never done it, never lied to me. Didn't use me for money, but worst of all, I don't know if he even likes me.

Today is the first day that I go back to school. Even though I put on make-up, choose a nice outfit and listen to my favorite songs to distract myself, I can only think of him.

His blonde hair, his beautiful eyes, the way his lips felt. How he felt inside me. Then I remember that he loves me and how he finally said it, something I have wanted to hear for so long.

But then I think about what he did and everything feels empty again.

As I enter the school, my friends come to meet me. They already know what happened, they all hug me and I feel a little better.

Until I see him.

And he sees me too. It takes all my effort to avert my gaze. To get my books out of my cupboard, but then I have to stop because he is not standing next to me offering to carry them.

I take it myself, close my door, but before I can go any further, he is standing in front of me. My heart stops. Oh, how his eyes shine.

"Do you need help?" His eyes focus on the books and I have to swallow several times before I can answer.

"No, I have to go to class now." But as I try to walk past him, he stops me.

"You don't answer my texts, you don't call me back. I'm not allowed into your house and you avoid me at school. What can I do? Please tell me what I need to do, so you forgive me." I laugh, but it is without humor.

"What can you do? Move."

I can see his shock, but he still doesn't step aside.

"Can't you hear me? I said-" but he walks toward me until I'm forced to lean my back against the lockers.

His eyes find mine.

"I can't sleep. And when I do, I dream of you. There's a - a hole in my heart that only you can fill. It hurts and I hate not being with you. It's even worse to be here, when you don't look at me the way you usually do. You don't smile at me, God, you don't look like you're in love with me anymore. It's hell."

Tears gather in my eyes, his words are so desperate, it hurts to see him like this.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you took advantage of me. Before you slept with me." A tear runs down my cheek and I know my mascara is smudging.

"I know, I know. And I feel so bad, I'll do anything to make it right. Just tell me."

When I look into his eyes, my heart also hurts.

"Move, Carl. I can't see you now." This time he lets go of me and I go to class with tears in my eyes.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

It's been four weeks since we last spoke, but it doesn't hurt any less to see him. Even if I don't let him talk to me, he doesn't give up.

He puts flowers in my locker, chocolate, and notes full of apologies and sweet promises.

Everything warms my heart, but it still feels like this money thing is unresolved between us. I know now that he likes me, very much in fact, as he makes it clear, but that doesn't change the real problem.

That he used me for my money.

As I leave school that day, I feel exhausted and, as I often do, I wish I had his arms around me.

Holding me tight, his lips kissing me, loving me.

As I wait for my father's car, I suddenly hear his familiar throat clearing. With my heart pounding, I turn around and see him smiling uncertainly at me.

"I know what I had to do and now I've done it. Here." He gives me an envelope and I take it uncertainly.

"Carl, your letters are flattering, but-" He quickly interrupts me.

"No, it's something else. Open it." The deja vu hits me unexpectedly and I slowly open the envelope, the content leaves me speechless.

"What is that supposed to be?" It's rhetorical, but I ask anyway.

"All the money I owe you. What you've kindly given me, I pay it back. Every cent. You can count." He looks so proud, I almost have to laugh.

"How- did you rob a bank?" He grins contentedly at my reaction.

"An old grandma." This time I laugh and he comes closer to me, slowly taking my hands.

"No, seriously. How did you do that?" He looks at me lovingly.

"Working in the kitchen every day after school, I found a part-time job with Fiona. The payment is bad, but it was worth it. I understand that money was the problem and well, that I wasn't honest to you." As I lower the envelope, we look at each other.

"Promise, no more secrets?"

He smiles and suddenly the world is a brighter place.

"Promise, but we continue one of our agreements." I raise my eyebrows questioningly, seeing him grin as he leans toward me, his breath brushing against my lips and he whispers:

"I'll still spend my breaks with you in the janitor's room."

The laughter that escapes me gets interrupted, when his lips meet mine.

[luffyvace]

Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons pt2

Pt2 of my Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons

(cuz I ran out of characters 😭) it’s the post before this but I’ll link here: Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons

⚠️(whole cake spoiler but you can read over it)⚠️

Dating Sanji Includes respect.

this man respects you more than he respect nearly everyone. And I mean it! Your up there with Zeff! And that’s the man that saved his life!!

Dating Sanji includes boundaries.

Going into what I just said Sanji respects you, which means he respects your boundaries! Now he finds you very alluring so he might push them but he won’t EVER cross them! Especially since that dude is on cloud simp 😭🤦‍♀️

Dating Sanji includes forgiveness.

Tying into that Sanji might push your boundaries..so forgiveness with him is essential! Hopefully your not stubborn! 💓

⚠️(whole cake spoiler)⚠️

you’ll also need to forgive him for leaving the crew at whole cake- and for almost MARRYING someone else- despite the fact that he always proclaims his love for you and says he wants to marry you. 😐

Dating Sanji includes comprising.

As said, this guy is pushy! So compromising can help strengthen your bond! “Dearest darlinggg~ could we take a bath together??~” *nose bleed*

it’s simply much to early for this sort of thing and you know Sanji’s a pervert 😵‍💫

”how about you prepare me a bath and make me some food while I’m in it? I’m really craving some (fav food :3) right now :)”

”right awayyyyy my scenic beloved~ you know I love doing anything for youuu~ especially cooking~ 😍🧑‍🍳”

compromise :)

by the way when i say Sanji is pushy I don’t mean it in the overly annoying way I mean it in the negotiation way, like that thing where you go:

‘50 dollars!’ ‘20!’ ‘30!’ ‘35!’ ‘Deal!’ 🤝

Like that type you know? He wouldn’t never actually cross your boundaries….it’s more like (harmless) loopholes ☝️🤓

Dating Sanji includes loyalty

very very very very very very obvious.

this man wouldn’t trade you for the world, and take that in because I mean that literally. Now if ykyk but whole cake was to protect you!! If it’s to protect you Sanji will find a way to minimize the damages instead.

anyhow- on a lighter note, you undoubtedly believe he will be faithful to you because you know it’s true and for that your grateful.

he’s always thinking about you 24/7- he doesn’t even have time to think about himself sometimes!! (He needs to)

Dating Sanji Includes active listening

top notch listener! As I said in part 1 he loves your voice so he could listen to you all day

he never gets bored or tunes out and you can tell! He consistently asks questions and maintains eye contact even if he’s doing something! :) it makes you feel so loved and heard 💗

Dating Sanji includes affection

only if you want it tho!! He has all love languages really (😭) but has no problem adapting to yours! So if this isn’t your forte, not to worry! He will never force this on you!

that’s talking about physical affection tho.

And there are many different types!…For the record- you get them all. 😊 he will emphasize on whatever’s your favorite to ensure maximum comfort <3

but this is where the communication from part 1 comes in!! You’ve gotta tell him what you like dear!! He’s not a mind reader 😃

Dating Sanji includes support

definitely this!!

he’s one of those guys who goes broke to support your dreams! (Remember the time Sanji almost sold Luffy out to the marines to buy Nami some PAPER?? Yeah..that’s you now)

everything is yours at the drop of the hat! Supplies?! He’s on it! (If you sell something) low sales?! He’s putting on one of those goofy mascots and twirling the sign around :) Karen Kustomer? Call security! (It’s Sanji- could you guess?!)

Dating Sanji Includes patience

this goes both ways truly..if your a bit more hot headed then you’ll definitely need this when it comes to him. He isn’t a idiot he just argues with Zoro too much…and Simps a lot too.. 👍

as for you I mean this in the sense that he already has plenty of it for youuuu!

he never gets angry at you for any reason.

I stand on that.

no matter how many of your shenanigans him and the crew have to go through, or how much chaos you’ve caused he’ll defend you to the end of it

”Oi! Why’d you have to go and do that?!”

”SHADDUP SHABBY SWORDSMAN!! my picturesque partner~ HAS DONE NOTHING WRONG!!”

😆

- You

(after causing chaos)

Dating Sanji Includes acceptance

self explanatory :3 he accepts you no matter who, how, where, what you are and he loves you through and through. From the highest point of your hair to the bottom of your feet 🤓😱

all that jazz~ 💖👌

Happy b day Sanji!! I’m totally not late for this!

:3

[tokoyamisstuff]

f! Reader | no warnings

They're all 100% meant to be girl dads. I can't explain why, it'd just be so cute. Literally the safest baby on earth.

Alucard

"I'd trade anything I have just for a child with your eyes."

Sis, that man is dead. 😭 I doubt even with his powers that's in his range of possibility.

No seriously, you'll probably voice your wish metaphorically, meaning it as a compliment, but it will throw him into a full blown existential crisis. He hates not being able to provide you with whatever you want, after all.

The suggestion alone wakes a desire in him that he never even thought about before. He'll secretly dwell in self-pity, fantasizing about what it'd be like.

At some point, he cannot bear that it'd stay a mere dream and suggest adoption.

Anderson

"Huh? *points to some orphans playing in the background* Don't we have enough already?"

Takes him a moment to understand the gravity of your words. Error. Brain stopped working.

Even if you're already long in a relationship/have been intimate with each other, he'll get adorably bashful at the thought. Is shocked how excited the thought of your belly growing round with his child makes him.

I don't think he's entirely opposed to the idea, but he honestly sees all of the orphans as his kids. There's already so many children without a family that need love and care out there, right?

Well, in the end the circumstances would easily allow it, and he's got enough experience. One more certainly won't hurt.

The Captain

...alright? Doesn't need to be told twice. He is the kind of guy that just goes along with everything his spouse says.

Not to sound indecent but he's a man on a mission, so prepare to be dragged into the next best place to fuck at any given time. Welp, that's how he found out he's got a breeding kink.

Gets even more clingy and openly affectionate than usual. Seriously, he can't wait until it finally happens, he might even be more thrilled than you are.

Walter

"My dear, you have no clue how much your words mean to me."

Delighted and overjoyed. It's been a great wish his entire life, but due to the course of his life he gave up on this naive hope years ago. To ever think he'd be given this chance, and with you of all people...he's truly blessed.

Would be prepared for every eventuality and literally carry you on his hands. You're used to being coddled by him, but this is some queen treatment right here.

His gratitude knows no limits. You'll forever be reminded of how much your family and your willingness to carry this child means to him.

Maxwell

"Wha- why? Am I not enough for you?"

Ugh. Children? He can barely tolerate dealing with people in general. Seriously, you should know him better than that.

Still, he's surprisingly cooperative. If you insist, guess it can't hurt as long as they turn out like you...

The closer the due-date however, the greater his panic and regret. Doesn't think he's cut out to be a father.

Definetly cries like a dog when holding his child for the first time. It's the most precious thing he's ever seen and he ends up being the most loving parent, thriving to give them everything he had lacked as a child himself.

Endlessly showers you in praise for gifting him this miracle, and having convinced him to the best decision of his life. This probably won't be the only child you'll have.

[sunflowersbones]

High Fidelity

Warnings: This fic will contain DUB-CON/NON-CON, Manipulative behavior, Spanking, Somnophilia. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

[STEVE ROGERS x reader]

Summary: The captain has unwritten rules laid out, ones you blindly follow. No questions asked, only orders followed. You’re like a loyal dog at his feet, ready to obey his every whim and command; only that you don’t realize how close your collar is to strangulation, and you're terrified that you won’t learn your lesson even when it snaps your neck.

NOTE: I suppose this could be my kinktober fic! Happy Autumn. Reblogs and comments are really appreciated, this is tumblr after all. I hope you enjoy!.

DIVIDERS: @writeyourmindaway l BANNERS: @vase-of-lilies

*

You look out of the window as the sun shines through, lightening up the break room. The slight bitterness of the last remains of your coffee mellow on your tongue as you start preparing it for the others. You make his at the end to ensure that it remains warm until he drinks it. An Americano, with three cubes of sugar. Just the way he likes it; you can only hope that he’s appeased by your attempts, even if it’s not much.

You walk back to the conference room, one hand balancing the coffee and the other carrying a few files Pepper needs. Your life as Pepper’s assistant involves having to clean up everything for her as well as for Tony. Well, more for Tony than Pepper.

As you walk through the corridor, you hear the regular good morning charades. You smile and nod too tired to say anything as your eyes beg you to get some sleep. Tony’s plethora of mishaps as of recently has only increased your work load. This boy leaves around more paperwork than Pepper can handle.

While work can be strenuous at times, you’re extremely grateful for what you have. Who wouldn’t want to work for Stark Internationals and… you got to meet him, talk to him, get to know him, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

“Ahh, there she is; we were wondering where our coffee monkey is.” You hear Tony chime.

“What he means is, good morning, Y/N.” Pepper snorts.

“Morning Pepper, Tony, everybody. Pepper, the files you needed.”

“Oh, thank you!.”

Most of them flock around you to get their hands on the coffee, but Sam and Tony beat them to it, like indecent children. The only ones with a little decency are Pepper, Nat, Bucky, and, of course, Steve.

You walk over to Nat and Bucky after you give Pepper hers. Both utter a small thank you as you give them theirs. You slowly turn around and place Steve’s cup near him on the table. He barely acknowledges you, his eyes concentrated on the file in his hand. You’ve always admired that; his ability to never get distracted from what he deems important—you could only wish to have such discipline.

You bask in his scent for a few seconds and immediately leave. You hope nobody caught you staring; you tend to do that a lot. If they knew, they’d make fun of you for being such a love-sick fool.

You finish entering all of last week's finances when you see him approach you. You avert your eyes immediately; to avoid too much eye contact is something he insists upon. You stare at your computer as you type in a few more numbers.

He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, a file in his hand.

“Hello captain.”

“Pepper wanted to return this to you.” He says as he extends the file to you.

“Oh yes, I’ll need this for...,” you stop as you realise he’s barely listening. You see him look around to make sure no one is nearby as he turns to you.

“You didn’t stop by yesterday.” His tone was laced with disappointment.

“I… I didn’t leave office until late, and I had to come back early; there was a lot of work left.” You wait for him to say something but soon realise he’s not going to. His face is as clam as ever, yet his eyes seem to be throwing a reproachful look at you.

“You’d just arrived from a mission too; I assumed you might be tired.”

"Yeah, I was; don’t you think that’s when I need you the most?” He whispers.

“I’m sorry, you never said anything, and I—

“Do I have to? After all this time.” You feel your heart clench at his accusation.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

He stares at you for a few seconds, and you feel yourself shrink at his presence.

“I should leave; you’re not the only one with work here.” Before you could say anything, he’s gone, only the echo of his footsteps left behind.

The whole day passes by uneventfully, and Steve’s words stung. You tried to immerse yourself with work, but your mind seemed inclined to relive your conversation from the morning. You really hadn’t meant to upset him.

At about nine, you receive a text from Steve.

“Stop by tonight.”

Simple and direct your conversations never went past that. You still have some more work left, but you don’t want to upset him any further, so you pack your stuff and decide to head to his room.

You wish that Steve would come over to your place instead; having to sneak around like this can be really difficult at times. If it were your place, there’s nothing to worry about—nobody to catch you. But now... does he not think of these things?, you wonder.

You’re not particularly afraid of the others finding out, considering Pepper and Tony have themselves breached the professionalism code of conduct. Nat and Bruce are on their way to; there’s nothing new about finding love at the workplace, right?

You’re more worried about how he’s going to react when people find out; you really didn’t want to deal with the burn of something you could have avoided.

As you turn around the right corner, your heart jumps out of your body as your eyes meet a pair of questioning blue ones.

“Why haven’t you left yet; isn’t it late?” Bucky enquires; he seems to have changed into his workout attire, his hands warped in bandages. Who works out at this hour? You ponder. He seems to have read your mind through your face as he answers, saving you the trouble.

“Couldn’t sleep; thought I’d punch some of the energy out.”

“So, why are you still here?”

“Uhh work, there were a lot of emails and I lost track of time.” He gives you an understanding nod. His mouth slightly parts to say something but then thinks better of it. You move around to pass through, when he suddenly says, “I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, it’s ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin your workout.”

“You won’t. I’ll walk you to your car and then head to the gym.”

“Really I — But, before you can finish, he turns back towards the elevator and presses the button. The doors swing open, and he steps inside, leaving you no choice but to follow.

Bucky leans onto the side, pressing himself to the cool glass walls as you stand rigid on the opposite side. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with him before or this close to him. Now that you notice it, he’s built quite a lot like Steve, although Steve might be a tad bit taller or it could just be the hair.

You quickly avert your eyes as he catches you staring at him. He clears his throat as he says, “You really shouldn’t be working so late, Y/N; it’s not healthy, you know.”

“Overworking will only make things more difficult in the future; Pepper wouldn’t want that for her favourite employee.”

You chuckle at that, “I’m not Pepper's favourite employee.”

“Of course you are; she couldn’t manage a day without you. She’s always praising you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, plus we like having our morning coffee, and you’re the only one who’s kind enough to get it for us.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” You smile back.

“Still, thank you. We really appreciate it.” He says, a slight smile warming up his face.

The lift arrives at the parking lot, and you get out of it into the well-lit space. The cluster of cars overwhelming you as you look around in search of yours, lost in the myriad of similar-looking vehicles.

“Well… Thank you for acknowledging it, Mr. Barn—

“Bucky.” He cuts you to it, his voice carrying a timber of shyness.

“Bucky.” Your whisper back, happy at the aspect of knowing that after all, maybe the supersoldier doesn’t despise you. You don’t know why you ever worried about that; your communication with each other might have been limited, but he was never anything but kind and respectful.

You say your final good-byes and walk towards your vehicle. You open it and get inside, fumbling with your key, hoping that he would leave soon. You did not want to actually leave the building for the pretence of it.

You turn your key around, the car engine roaring at you. You look over ahead to see Bucky turning around to ride up the elevator again. You decide to stay put for some more time. You don’t want to ride the elevator just yet. What if he hasn’t left?

If you get caught again, you have no excuses left. So you stay put for a good 40 minutes before you make your way up. Bucky’s bound to be in the gym by now.

You slowly sneak towards his room, heels in your hand, to avoid the loud tenor of its click-clacking. You arrive at his front door and repeat the pattern twice. A knock-pause, followed by two rapid knocks. You’re received by silence, and you grow a little uneasy. What if someone shows up? What will you say? Was he really that mad?

You repeat the knock again and pause for a few seconds. The door swings open, and your breath hitch’s at the sight in front of you. He has a towel wrapped around his hip, his hair wet as the droplets still cling on to him. His face and body; glistening. There’s a frown etched between his eyebrows as he stares at you.

“You’re late.”

“I was—before you can finish, his hand extends to latch on to your belt as he pulls you in. He shuts the door close as he presses you against it; you feel your entire face heat up. You’ve seen him naked so many times, yet you can’t help but ogle at him and admire him every time you see him.

Every time he needs you, there’s a bloom in your heart that radiates through your whole body. One that just wants him near you, on you, inside you. And you just want to be there for him whenever, wherever, however he wants you to be.

He gives you a questioning gaze as you mumble. “Bucky kinda noticed that I hadn’t left yet, so I had to play around a little.” His frown still remains as you let out a “Sorry.” His hand moves around you to lock the door, the sound of it synchronising with a beat of your heart. His hand moves to rest on your lower back; it curves around you and pushes you towards him. Your breasts press tightly against his chest as he traps you between him and the door. He presses his mouth on to yours as he kisses you; it's messy, all teeth and tongue. His desperation seeps through you as you feel yourself get wet.

You feel his hard length against your core as he presses his hip to yours. You let out a loud moan, your head leans back onto the door as you attempt to take in shallow breaths. He moves his face ever so slightly to look at you as he moves his hips back and thrusts into you with a force that knocks the wind out of you. You gasp at that as he adorns a devious smirk.

His hand travels down your thigh, he lifts it up and hooks it around his hip, spreading you apart as he nestles in between you.

“Been thinking about this pretty cunt, the whole time I was away.” He whispers into your mouth. One of his hands travels under you skirt as he cups your core, his fingers maneuver around your underwear as he plays around with you.

“Well somebody’s excited.” He sighs out, hot breath fanning your face.

“On the bed, ass up, right now.” He sternly recites. Your body immediately moves on its own, pealing your clothes off of yourself. Anticipation overwhelming you as you lay down, just like he told you to. You can hear him pumping himself with the hand that was covered in your slick just a moment ago.

He climbs onto the bed behind you as his hands move to grope your ass. With a smooth clean thrust he slides himself inside you. He lets out a moan as you feel yourself clench around him. His right hand rear back and as he smacks you, you feel the sting pass through your entire body.

You bite your lips and start counting; you haven’t forgotten, the last time he made sure you won’t. “…3,4,5,6,” you feel hot tears well up you eyes, “…8,9.” His left arm gropes your titts and moves forward to your neck, he squeezes it as he yanks you back.

Your back collides with his chest and he increases his pace, thrusting into you. Your knees are falling apart and the only thing that makes sure you stay upright are his hands. Your own hand maneuvers back to play with his hair, you ruffle your fingers through the short strands and slowly scratch his head. His eyes shut close as his breath falters and his thrusts start to get sloppier. You press yourself even closer to him as you tilt your head sideways. You lean forward and place a light peck on his lips. He opens his eyes as his grip on you tightens at that, you’re sure that it’ll bruise by tomorrow morning.

He moves your upper body around uncomfortably so as his lips find yours. He growls into the kiss as he twists your body, you’re almost afraid that you’ll snap like a twig, but you felt reassurance course through you when you realize its him. You wouldn’t mind if it’s him but you also know that nothing would happen because it’s him; he would never hurt you, he would never hurt anybody. He is Captain America after all.

You feel yourself close and you cling on to him desperately. “Sir… sir, I’m clo—

“Hush, hush let go… just let go, I’ve got you.” You come apart around him as you clench him tighter and he closely follows you.

You fall on to the bed as exhaustion overcomes you. You can hear his soft, shallow breaths behind you as you close your eyes and focus on it. You feel him shift as he gets out of bed and leaves the room; he comes back a minute later carrying a bottle with him. His eyes are on you as you turn around to sit upright.

“Water?” he asks, his hand extended, his gaze never leaving you.

“Yes, please!” You timidly reply, your eyes finding the ground. You greedily drink up; you’d been parched, and you hadn’t even realised it.

He moves around to his bedside table and fiddles with the clock. With your thirst now quenched, you feel the soreness ripple through your body. You’re ready to drop right now; you don’t even want to think about the pile of work you’ll have to deal with in the morning. Some sleep would do you good, yet you know you’re not going to get any, simply by the way he stares at you. He’s waiting to rip that bottle out of your hands.

The minute you give him the bottle back, he’s on you. His entire weight pressed onto your aching body, his thrusts sending you to oblivion as he takes you over and over throughout the night.

You jump up as the alarm rings through your brain, the blaring noise annoying your ear just as its bright red numbers annoy your eyes. You absentmindedly notice that it's 4:00 am. You don’t have to turn around to know that he’s gone; the lack of warmth already suggests that. Not that you ever got a semblance of the next morning; you’re never privy to seeing his beautiful sleep-ridden form in the morning.

He’s always been punctual about his morning runs; they weren’t going to change for your sake. You pick up your clothes—the ones you’d scattered around, the ones he’s picked up and placed on his chair—and get dressed as you brace yourself for the day to come. At least he’s not far away on a mission; at least you don’t have to worry about how he’s doing, where he’s gone, or when he’ll come back, and you most definitely don’t have to worry about Tony’s inquisitive gazes as to why his assistant’s secretary would care about Steve Rogers.

The last time you chalked it up as concern for the team and worry about the authenticity of the Intel, but you won’t get such chances anymore, so you learn to apply patience into your daily regime. At least now you can take comfort in small glances and the echo of his voice; it fills your heart with a kind of warmth that you don’t think you can explain. Yet you know it; you recognise it. It blooms within you every time you see those baby blues.

Tony’s meetings have always brought a frown upon Steve’s brows; that wouldn’t surprise you, however the way he gazes at you does. It never lingers for more than a second, but now... you feel his gaze burn through you. You focus your attention on the second pair of eyes that have been longing for it as you hand over the cup of espresso to him.

“Thanks doll.” Bucky whispers back a nonchalant remark.

Steve’s eyes flick on to Bucky and then back to you. For a split second, his face hardens, but it immediately reverts back. His attention now back on the monitor in front of him.

“Hey, Steve, this is important, you know? It would be great if you were paying attention to what I’m saying instead of laser-eyeing my coffee monkey.” Tony quips.

All eyes are now on you, yet his remains stoned towards Tony. He gives him an unimpressed shrug, “You do have my attention, Tony.”

“Wait a sec, she gets everyone coffee, so why is she your coffee monkey?” Natasha asks, an eyebrow raised in your direction, “Shouldn’t she be our coffee monkey?” she smirks.

“Well, Nat,” Tony replies, “it’s my coffee, and she works for me, so...”

“First and foremost, she’s my assistant; second of all, she’s doing you guys a favor. She doesn’t have to do this. Now please stop hogging her and let her work.” Pepper tones suggest humour and a slight disappointed nod at Tony.

“Yeah, well, you work for me, Pepp, so technically everything’s mine.”

Tony squeaks out as the room breaks into smiles and low hollers. The attention is back on Tony now; you use this opportunity to escape. As you leave, you turn back slightly to look at Steve. Only to be met with his back towards you.

Once again, you leave work late. The workload these past few days has made taking care of yourself impossible. As you walk towards home, you mentally plan on what you should do to relax. Tomorrow is a Sunday, and you really want to spend some time for yourself. You turn around as you head in the direction of your apartment building and are momentarily surprised to find Steve perched up on his motorcycle.

He looks up at you, his eyes locked onto yours. Even a simple gaze from him brings a shiver down your spine. He walks into the building, and you quietly follow behind him. A part of you feels guilty for not lending him a key, but he never asked, and you didn’t want to seem overbearing. He moves towards the corner of the lift as you enter right behind him.

Even though it is quite late into the night, the overflow of people moving about was no less. You move over to the right to create space for the incoming group of people. An unbothered shove from the person in front of you pushes you back. Your body slightly leans towards him, his chest pressed to your back as his hands land on your hip, pulling you closer. You feel him hard against your ass, and you heave a shuttered breath.

While Steve has always been handsy, he never acted out in public. Although no one here recognised him, nor were there any cameras in the lift—unlike the all-seeing eyes of the stark tower—it still doesn’t help calm your nerves.

Your floor arrives shortly, and you weed your way out; however, you don’t see him behind you. You presume he’ll get out on another floor and descend the stairs. You slowly walk towards your apartment and unlock the door. You enter and switch on the lampshade in the hall, the low yellow colour dancing through the entire room.

You hear his heavy footsteps as you place your bag on the table. He enters and closes the door; his figure leans on to it as he lingers there for a few seconds, gazing at you.

Before you know it he moves forward in lightening speed. His hands find your body as he lifts you off of the ground. You wrap your legs around his hips as he hungrily kisses you. His right hand lands on your ass and he gropes a handful as his other hand squeezes the nape of your neck. You revel in the pleasure and slight pain he provides and you lightly bite his lips.

He places your body atop the table as he moves to nip at your neck. His hand rides up your thigh as he slowly drags your panties down. You hike your skirt up in an attempt to help him as your lips desperately try to latch itself on to his again.

He kisses you a few more times in an attempt to placate you before his arm pushes your upper body onto the table. He slightly bends his knees and leans over to lower his head in between your thighs.

His heated breath dances against your slick core, as he swipes his tongue over your folds. He laps from you hungrily as his hands tighten on your thigh; adjusting them.

“Please Steve.” You receive a slight bite on the inside of your thigh at that; a reminder.

“Captain. Sir, Please.” You moan a whimper out.

“Use your words sweetheart, what do you want?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to make me feel good.”

“Atta girl.” He whispers.

His tongue slightly licks your clit before sucking on it. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as you move your hands over to run through his short Blond strands, you slowly massage his head and he pushes his face further into you.

You can barely handle it anymore as you let yourself go with a muffled scream and you nearly see stars around you. He moves his hand to the back of your hip as he stands straight and you know you’re not done for the day.

It’s been nearly three weeks, and he hasn’t said a word to you. Your lack of communication wasn’t anything new. But he hasn’t  come to you even once, and you know he’s here and not away on a mission; you’d seen him at the tower chatting away with almost anybody but you.

Sometimes you’d encounter the supersoldier pair in passing, Bucky was the only one who would stop by to greet you; your Blond-haired nightly companion would simply walk past you. You’re unsure if it’s his usual impassiveness or if you did something wrong again.

It could be really difficult when it came to Steve; he had high expectations but was never precise about what he wanted. A part of you loved it when you could figure it out on your own without him having to spell it out for you. But sometimes you couldn’t understand what it is that he wants. It angers and terrifies you; that’s when the dread settles in. You don’t want to admit it or acknowledge it even,though a small part of you is terrified of being discarded away.

By the fourth week, you finally found the courage to talk to him, only to find out that he’s been gone for about three days now. A part of you felt guilty that you hadn’t talked to him earlier, but another part of you knows that it was the better decision to make.

The days flit through in a gloom as you realise how disheartening expectation can be. The only positive side to your loneliness and boredom was the better sleep schedule you managed to incorporate into your routine. The depths of sleep now welcome you without much hesitation. 

You don’t really perceive the feeling of your bed dipping at the weight of another. Not even the feather-like touch of fingers skimming over your body. Sleep lulls you into a pleasant dreamscape; not even at the slight intrusion that your body felt could your mind understand anything.

It wasn’t until you felt his cock plunged into you that you truly registered what was happening. Your mind had just been in the cradle of sleep, and it felt like you had been snatched out of it. Your body felt trapped between the bed and the weight of the body pressed on top of you. The weight of it was the only thing you could focus on until the sting of him stretching you out coursed through your body.

You could hardly breathe; fear surges through you as your heartbeat increases. Your brain felt like it was on fire due to the sudden change your body felt.

The room was veiled in darkness except for the small shine of moonlight. Your eyes hadn’t been able to register to it in the beginning, but now they had become accustomed to it. You couldn’t decide if the sight in front of you put you at ease or if it alarmed you further.

It was the same blue eyes that you’d always longed to gaze at, the same glittery Blond hair that you long to touch, the same sharp nose, and the same clenched jaw. Except there was something in his eyes that terrified you, along with the dirt and blood that covered his face; his lip nearly torn apart. It almost felt like it wasn’t him, and your heart both feared and ached for him.

With a little more clarity now you notice the brushing of the sharp clothes against yours. He was still wearing his tactical suit; this— a first. Now that you think of it, you don’t ever remember him coming to you while wearing it; he’d never been desperate enough. You were a part of his leisure, not a need. Your hand moves to feel the shape and pattern with a sense of wonder.

He leans down to kiss you, the copper taste of his blood stinging your tongue. He bites on to your lip making you yelp; sure that now you’ve started to bleed too.

“Ahh ste— Steve, slow— slow down please.” You beg.

His hand moves to wrap itself around your throat as he slightly tightens his fingers around it. His pace not differing at the slightest. In fact, you're sure he’s slightly increased his pace.

“Talk to me... what’s wrong?” Your right arm moves up to hold his face as your thumb gets imprinted with his sweat and blood.

His gaze that had been on your lips this entire time, now flickers to your eyes as his pace slows a tiny bit.

“Just go to sleep.” The gravel of his voice a slight whisper.

You’re exhausted by him, and his voice lulls you even more; you feel the ceiling slowly blur. Your body moving along with the rhythm of the bed as you slowly fall asleep again.

A surprise party for Pepper's birthday would involve the utmost amount of planning done solely by you and the credit taken away by Tony. But the warm smile lingering on the strawberry Blond's face makes it all worth it.

The humdrum within the Stark tower makes you gleam inwardly; the initial stress and discomfort from the morning washed away. In fact, you had completely forgotten about him. The excitement of the party overtaking you—it felt so nice to see everybody like this. At ease in their own skin, today they were no different from any other office member celebrating a colleague's birthday, albeit a slight difference in luxury.

The long-haired brunet walks over to the quieter side of the party where you reside. You notice him walking over and slice a piece of the cake and extend it to him.

“It’s a real nice party you pulled off in such little time, Y/N.”

“Whatever do you mean?, this is all Tony." You say, a light gist in your voice.

“Oh please, everyone knows this is your work; pretty sure Pepper does too.”

“Tony was away with us on the mission; he wouldn’t be able to pull this off.”

“Well, I think you underestimate him, Bucky.”

“No, they underestimate you,” he sighs, anticipation brewing within. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous.

“Do you like the cake? It’s got a complicated name, but I’m pretty sure it's got plum in it; I know you like it.”

His eyes light up just a tad bit as the corners of his mouth slightly turn up.

He chuckles again, “You’re supposed to get Pepper a cake of her choice, not what I like.”

“Everyone likes plum!. Anyway, I had to buy multiple cakes; sneaking this in was easy.”

“Thank you. It’s really goo— a thud on his back nearly chokes him as Sam comes up from behind, eager to receive his share of the sugary dessert. As you cut the slice for him, their regular jab of bickering continues. Sam says something in an almost teasing tone as Bucky tries to strangle him with his eyes. You like this version of them much more.

You slightly tap your feet as you gaze at the room you’re most familiar with. He hadn’t spoken to you the whole day, but his piercing gaze could not be shaken off of you. You recall the previous night's events; you’re unsure what to make of it. You simply couldn’t leave, at least not without hearing his voice.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I- wanted to talk to you… about last ni—

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?”

“You seemed content with the company of others the whole day.” The harshness of his tone surprises you.

“What, Steve, what are you-?

“I believe it’s cap for you. Since when did you two get this close?” he says a finger pointed towards you.

“who?”

“Don’t act like a fool, Y/N; I see the way you look at him; act around him.”

“Who!?”

“Bucky.” He barks back.

“Are you trying to fuck him? Bored of me? Is that what this is about?”

The crassness of his words shocked you. You feel a lump form in your throat as your eyes sting.

“No, no...” you can barely form any words as tears start brimming up, your palms brush against your eyes harshly as to try to stop the free fall.

He sighs at that, his voice now a whisper, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not. I’m— sorry…” you coarsely whisper.

He sighs again and moves over to sit on the bed, a hand extending to latch on to your dress. He pulls you with it, your slight resistance casually ignored. His grip becomes stronger as he pulls you onto his lap, his hand tight around your waist.

He simply gazes at you, and you start crying all over again, “I don’t know—I just don’t know what I did to make you feel that way. I never—you sob words stuck in your throat.

He tilts up your chin with his finger, forcing you to look at him. He leans forward to kiss you. The hand around your waist forcing you to straddle him as the other latches on to your hair. You try to stop, to get a word out but he uses this opportunity to shove his tongue in. The force of him making you relent.

“Steve, I—

The sudden swing of the door startles you just as your presence startles your visitor. He averts his eyes in shock, but his eyes move back to look at you, an ache painted upon them as he looks at your dishevelled hair and messy form.

“Hey, Buck. Need something?” Steve asks, his face slightly turned backwards.

Bucky’s eyes finally reside on the other man in the room, snapping him out of his trance.

“Uh… yeah, no. No, it’s ok.” He rambles as he moves back and closes the door.

You feel a sudden sense of shame course through you, and you move to get off of him. Only to have him shift you as he pins you under him.

“Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone. It’ll be fine.” He says in between kisses. His hand toying with your dress.

Of course; you’re still his secret, one that he’s unwilling to share. But it’s ok. For him, you’ll do just about anything, as he would for you.

His insatiability and your incredulity, twisting around and consuming you into a single burning fire.

*

[amaritypewriter]

sfw and nsfw poly!vees x reader headcanons??😩😩😩😩 PLEASE IM BEGGING

Tysm for requesting and dw you don’t gotta beg I love writing these and have so many more for them! Also I didn’t know if you wanted fem reader but I can totally do male reader if that’s what you wanted!

The V’s, fem!reader, degration, FFMM, poly V’s, head canons. Idk I tried not to go dark at all because I wanted to try something less grim!

SFW:!!

- The V’s all have to have scheduled times for when it’s their turn to have you, and they’ll always fight over who’s day it is, or they’ll trick eachother somehow and trade days!

- Vox likes to keep you on his lap while he works or while in meetings proudly showing you off like you’re the most valuable thing in hell! I mean to him you are and if anyone even thinks about arguing with him about it he’ll get Val to blow their head clean off.

- Velvette loves to make you things sometimes it isn’t even fashion related! She’ll take you flower picking and make you flower crowns, draw you things, etc.

- Velvette takes mini photoshoots of you wherever you guys are, she puffs and pouts and gets livid if you don’t agree to take pictures with her. And then she goes and makes the others jealous because of all the *forced* time she spent with you😭

- Velvette didn’t exaggerate when she said that Valentino was the biggest piss baby in hell, whenever he’s furious or just simply heated you’re kind of his stress relief ball? He’ll love to hug and rant to you but because of your size difference he has to control himself or else he might hurt you and he doesn’t want that!

- The V’s are all very busy demons but when their pet complains about not having enough time with them (as in all together) they make sure to clear off their schedule, meetings? Adjourned. Shows? Postponed. Interviews? Canceled. All for you. They’d never admit it tho. <3

- They have weekly movie nights with you, normally you and Velvette pick the movie and Val prepares a load of snacks for everyone while Vox gets the blankets and pillows ready, all that and your always the last one up since they all already fell asleep probably on eachother too.

- They really try their best to isolate you, so if you have friends they do a variety of things. Hate them, try to persuade you to hate them, and have weekly shit talking meetings whenever you’re not around to talk about how ‘they aren’t good enough’ but they would never say that to you because the only thing they say to you is how ‘useless and dumb you are.

- On that note; they love to bully and insult you and most of the time you can’t tell if they’re joking or not so I guess they wouldn’t do well with overly sensitive reader.😔

- Cuddle time with them is so comfy and heated, you’re obviously in the middle however Velvette demands you spoon her while Vox is in front of her with his hands wrapped around her grabbing your waist squishing poor Velvette. During all of that Val is on the other side all on your back, he’s touching all on your waist, grabbing your boobs, all while keeping his chin on your head.

- While cuddling Valentino always tries to make things sexual and get yelled and scolded by the others.

NSFW:!¡

- They designed and have a point system just depending on their sex life with you which I’m not gonna get into 😭 (unless you want me too?)

- They all hate sharing you, they hate sharing with others with eachother but on the miracle day they’re all free, and down to fuck you know you’re in for a long night.

- Velvette is always competing with Valentino, who makes you cum first, or the hardest. Whose name gets moaned louder or who makes you squirt the farthest.

- They live for a cute little overstimulated reader, and not to mention pent up. when they all collectively agree on not letting you cum for weeks it’s torture for you. They’ll lock you up in closets and make out with you until you’re begging to take it a step farther and then they’ll unlock the door and take their leave.

- They all degrade you hard, and “live” for making you cry, “Aw look Val the little sluts already in tears begging for more cock to take!”

- Most of the time they’ll have on your knees ass up for Val while you suck Vox’s dick so velvette can eat you out from under.

- Other times you’ll be sandwiched between Valentino and Vox taking in their dicks quite nicely while Velvettes all over your tits leaving hickys and licking all over your body.

- Sometimes they let Velvette use the strap on you and she loves it because it makes her feel equal to them when it comes to being able to “dick you down” but they don’t mind, well at least Vox doesn’t he love a good show between you two, Val not so much.

- They’re all extremely territorial, they love leaving hickeys all over your body. Whenever you parade along the office with them they get so turned on/wet.

- Velvette normally assists you when you’re trying on the clothes she designed for you and every time without fail she gets so turned on seeing you undress and uses her fingers to edge you and then leaves you there fucked out of your mind.

[greythemed]

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ how is like to date kim gun-woo. ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1775.

dating gun-woo was like listening to my love by justin timberlake but the difference is that he wouldn't ask you to be his love bcuz he's a shy boy and would act exactly like only by lee hi

holds the door for you EVERYTIME like it's not even funny how gentleman-ly this man is

first time meeting your family? gun-woo is bringing every dish his lovely mother is capable of preparing in one day because he wants to impress your parents so bad (especially if you come from money while he doesn't) like he is so scared he'll mess something up

LISTENS TO YOU! i think gun-woo would be a good therapy friend but an AMAZING healing-era boyfriend. like family issues? imma suffocate you so hard with my love that you won't need anyone else anymore babygirl.

late-night therapy sessions where you both trade one secret for one kiss because it's cute and vulnerable while laying upside down on your bed and w pinkies intertwined. and if something about the relationship (or smth the other did on the day) is bothering one of you, late-night calls are a MUST - no matter where you are or which time it is.

his only source of relationship advice are guilty kdramas he has watched during the pandemic (when he wasn't punching random henchmen lol) and woo-jin so expect A LOT of misunderstandings from this guy

like one time he thought it'd be cute to surprise you with flowers at your work because he saw it in one kdrama and wanted to do the same but completely forgot you worked at a morgue as a young autopsy so you were horrified for a whole week💀

buys you sweet snacks every time he goes out like it doesn't matter if he's BROKE, he'll bring something for you, and don't bother stressing he'll keep doing the same till eternity no matter what

miss here has a late-night craving? gun-woo is running to the closest store at the darkest crack of dawn to buy you your wish, even if you try to stop him "don't worry, love, i'll be quick" and proceeds to kiss your head while putting his green puffy jacket on and rushing.

honestly let’s talk about that. IT HAS TO GO AWAY. definitely going to be your first gift for him: A NEW JACKET. like give her a break gunwoo-ya, she's not goin' nowhere bestie ✊😔

your 'dynamic trio' is a little stressful at the start. i truly believe woo-jin would test the SHIT out of gun-woo's partner, no matter how much the boxer tries to prove to him you're no threat. like mister mayweather fan won't let you breathe the first time you guys meet, making direct questions like "what are your intentions with my babyboy right here? 🤨" or "if you're planning to leave him someday and brake his heart, i WILL find you"

super-protective woo-jin boyfriend mode is off the instant he finds out you're striving to be a doctor one day and help the world to be a better place and stars are starting to accumulate in your eyes while you talk. (he still threatens you sometimes tho).

after that the DOUBLE DATES' SEASON starts (because woo-jin also has his partner after all) and suddenly your group of friends consists of your boyfriend, your boyfriend's boyfriend, and another unfortunate third wheel caught in their bromance.

he's such a shy baby and you're such a social butterfly girlie so we might have some contradictions about where to go on date nights. like one week is staying in movie nights where you’re all cozy and gun-woo is sleeping at the first five minutes of the movie (“i swear it wasn’t on purpose babe🥺”) and the other is freaking museum rides and “i heard this new place at the mall is SO good we have to try it!!!!”.

but when it comes to physical activities? you’re SO done. like NO GUNWOO I DON’T WANT TO WAKE UP 5 IN THE FUCKING MORNING TO RUN AT THE BEACH WITH YOU😡😡😡. (he dreams of the day you’ll say yes).

watching? maybe. he gets all sweaty and sexy for you, i can imagine his partner just staying there in the corner wrapped in a cozy blanket and eating some snacks while he’s working the fuck out in the garage. like i got you bae don't worry! from right here🧍🏻‍♀️ . and he loves it. 

absolutely adores praising, especially regarding his physic or gym evolution and gets all shy when you do it because “really? have you been payin’ attention to me?🥺”.

really values traditional corny-ass attitudes like protecting your head every time you get out of the car, walking on the side closer to the street, holds hands so he literally doesn’t lose you (it happened one time, you saw a rainbow-y burrito trailer and went for it without even thinking), ladies first always, pays for food when you get out or buys you flowers.

after he and woo-jin took their part of the money, the first thing gun-woo did was open his mom’s café and buy them a house just like mister choi said. he started working out more and working on his physic to maybe try and win one more tournament but he ends up meeting you and your father and meeting so many new people that wanted to take him under their wing 😊.

he literally had to pick which sponsor he’d choose to run for the belt. he got quite famous for jumping two categories in one year and from then on gun-woo made a few winning his pro fights.

he did what he loved so you supported him, biting your nails every time he’d take more than one round to knock his opponent out and cheering with his mom beside you in her new apartment every time the fight ended.

you’re so his passenger princess. this man will be moving mountains to do what you want and he’s so good at it.

on days when he’s more clingy and vulnerable expect this tall man to be glued to you. sometimes when you can’t be reached he will just call you to hear your voice on your break from work and straight hit the gym to soothe his anxiety.

in death’s anniversaries, he’d be the same. would stay silent the whole day if you don’t talk to him because it’s so painful to remember what happened to them all in one day. so you need to be careful and engage him in soothing activities or just distract him respectfully. 

nsfw under 🤗

gun-woo is such a giving person and he wouldn't be different in his relationship. sexually speaking? this man doesn't know where to start. you guys end up having a real conversation about this because gun-woo doesn't know how to enjoy things where he's the benefitted one and only wants to give, give, give. its sick.

it doesn't help the man is fixated on eating you out too. like, honestly he'll die a happy man if it is between your legs. at first, you had to teach him a lot of things (you were basically his first everything, after all) and the boxer took that as a fucking challenge. picture that every night he'd be knocking at your door not even saying hello and going straight to business because "i want to do it right this time, angel. is this okay? am i making you feel good?".

*dies while writing this*

there is a gun-woo before ep.6 and another one after ep.6 and we all know it. but the thing he didn't change was his heart, right? so the boy that watched netflix kdramas with his mom after gym sessions during the pandemic while eating ramyeon is the same man that takes you to bed after a romantic date and not only DOESN'T rush you to do anything but also asks if you want him to sleep on the floor because maybe he'll make you uncomfortable?🥺 and he doesn't want that. (even though you've been dating for ages by now lol)

so when you glance at him asking “bae, what are you doing?” he is stuttering like “sleeping on t-the… floor?” “get your ASS back here mister kim imma teach you how to be a man😾”

honestly, he finds you SO funny that even during sexy time he’ll laugh at your jokes. like genuinely laugh and you’d consequently laugh at his reaction too and then sexy time is gone for the next 10 whole minutes till he shuts you up and goes back to business.

big boy up and down we've all been through that already, right? right.

sometimes it pisses you off that he takes everything so serious and it takes the sparkle away for you. but it’s because everything is so new to him that he feels like he has to be amazing on his first try and it infuriates you.

“you good?” he raises his head and looks into your eyes in confusion. “you’re doing it again, can’t you please just feel instead of thinking for once?” you question and his big round eyes make an appearance. “oh… i’m sorry”. and starts doing it right because in his head, that was also a challenge.🙄

gun-woo is a shy man. while i do not agree when i see people calling him a bottom, he’s not approaching you first babe get over it. gun-woo is the type of man that needs a little “it’s okay i want sexy time now pls” so his key is finally turned and the beast is unleashed. not saying he’s a freak because he’s probably a super traditional guy but you know what i mean.

that drabble i wrote? he needs your okay first to iniciate anything. my man could be busting his pants, fully hard n leaking and won’t even utter a word.

stamina>>> he's an athlete like c'mon

don't expect any replies from this man if you send him nudes in the middle of the day someday. boy will be BLUSHING the rest of his chores forever. and he won't have the heart to stare at you for a whole week if you don't approach him first.

you'd be all "lol you're blushing baby 🤭😆" and he'd be like "why did you do this to me?🥺🥺🥺 now i want you more for the rest of my life and forever".

you cannot say that this man doesn't feel like some of justin bieber's songs (specially company like ok i might have to make a playlist just about him)

i'm going to end this here and let y'all starve.

making a playlist about him after this for safety purposes. i could make this for hours and hours no joke, mom come pick me up pls i'm scared.

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the au ask game

What do you think would happen if damian got a crush on dick and a good while after he proposed to dick in front of the 'bat-fam', they weren't dating so obviously dick is surprised but do you think they'd get together, how would the rest react?

for the ask game!

oooh, this is fun, bc there are a lot of directions to take it, how i think i'd write it tho is-

Damian would wait until he's an adult. he knows that's when it becomes Permissible to court Dick publically. everyone's always sort of known that Damian had a childhood crush but hey, he can join the club, most of them have gone through it at some point. no one says anything, bc they assume Damian will grow out of it, and even assume he has, by the time he's an adult. maybe he's dated and had brief flings that never worked out. no one realizes how *planned out* this is for Damian. he's in it for the long haul, having distractions thrown up to throw everyone off his scent. silently sabotaging Dick's relationships in ways no one even realizes, especially not Dick. Damian has been waiting for this, and he plans to do it the way he's been raised: romance is a lifetime bond that cannot be severed, and thus, it includes marriage. i like the idea that no one *told* Damian this explicitly, but how his mother taught him about love and how he sees Western relationships naturally led him to this assumption.

when Damian properly proposes, i think everyone would be so baffled, Dick included, that it'd come across as a joke. Damian planned it in front of others on propose- he wanted to mark his territory clearly and put the social pressure on Dick to have to navigate the situation correctly. bc Dick never wants Damian to feel embarrassed or humiliated. so there's a long, tense silence. someone maybe laughs and tries to crack a joke, with Damian calmly saying he's deadly serious. he expected the ridicule and it's not getting to him. i think it's extra fun if Dick quietly asks Damian to talk in another room about this and they leave and everyone is trading jokes and comments about what Dick is saying and why on earth Damian would even do that, trying to decide if this is a weird version of a prank. so an hour later when Dick and Damian come back out and DIck is *wearing the ring*, everyone is baffled.

Dick intends to say no. he's going to be *kind* about it but of course he's saying no. Damian might be in his 20s now, but he's still a *kid* in Dick's eyes, and Dick could never see him that way. but Damian lays out his reasoning, because he expected a rejection. he's very clear about the logistical aspect of it. how he objectively makes a good partner for Dick, and how getting married would provide stability for the family dynamic as well as the legal aspect of Bruce's company. it's all so well laid out Dick can barely get a word in edge wise. Dick tries to bring up how they're basically family and Damian calming corrects him that no, Dick was only ever Bruce's ward. Damian even brings up instances where Dick expressed a romantic love. bc i do think it's fun if Dick briefly Noticed Damian in that way. never deep enough to develop a full crush, but he definitely noticed when Damian went from a scrappy kid to an adult with toned muscles and his father's jawline. and Damian concludes his speech by saying if Dick has no arguments, then Damian assumes they're proceeding. and well, Dick *has* no real arguments. besides the fact he doesn't want to, which given Damian knows there's attraction there, he's able to easily combat that argument, saying Dick does want it, he's just doubting himself. so, frustrated and not prepared for this argument, Dick says yes, mostly bc of how flustered he is.

Dick's intended plan is to show Damian how bad of an idea their relationship would be. which is what he tells everyone, saying he's just doing this so Damian can learn how terrible their relationship would be and Damian will get it all out of his system. it's like indulging a child trying to set their own bedtime and letting them so they learn why they need sleep. and that works well for about a month, until Dick is realizing, he kind of enjoys this relationship. Damian is a dotting lover, and he's *right*, that he well balances most of Dick's worst traits in a relationship. it has been canonically said that Dick would do best with a partner like Bruce and well, what's Damian if not a more feral clone of Bruce. he has the same intensity that Dick needs, while also respecting he can't control everything about Dick's life. he doesn't expect or demand intimacy of any kind out of Dick, but Dick somehow finds himself sleeping in Damian's arms. (i'm a fan of Damian being a brickhouse as an adult and actually slightly larger than Dick) their first kiss isn't a surprise, bc Damian calmly asks if he can kiss Dick, what's surprising is that Dick says yes before he even thinks about it. he tells himself he's just curious. and it's a *good* kiss, which is even more frustrating. it's the sort of kiss where his hands wander and he's pulling Damian into his lap before Damian pulls away and calmly says he needs consent from Dick to go further. which makes Dick go pink bc, all of this was *not* how this was supposed to go. this was supposed to be a bluff, and now he thinks he's actually dating Damian.

the reactions would take a while to settle in. everyone still sees this as a ridiculous thing that'll blow over, eventually. bc Dick promised this wasn't a *real* thing and well, it *sounds* so ridiculous it can't really sink in. Damian's at that age where he's *just* now transitioning into being seen as an adult by the family. everyone who's on the younger side of the family will know, there's when you become an adult legally, and then there's when you become an adult socially, and those are very different times. Damian's just on the cusp, where a lot of the Batfam still see him as a kid. so it's difficult to grasp that he's old enough to be dating, let alone dating Dick. the longer it lasts the more the hidden laughs become shared looks as it sinks in. i think Bruce wouldn't know *how* to react. so many emotions just cancel out to the point that if he's asked, he just walks out of a room. Tim would be on the more negative side of reactions, whereas Cass is on the more positive. it's heavily varied, with the typical concerns being brought up. but no one can really *do* anything about it. and Dick is *Dick*, he's more trusted than Bruce is by the family, so they sort of have to go along with whatever he does. and more importantly, they trust his judgment. if he's riding this out, then everyone's riding it out with them. eventually, it sort of just becomes part of the dynamic. it goes from a joke to accepted so easily no one really notices when they started taking it seriously. which is the fun of it being so normalized that they don't realize it as a Thing anymore. it's just how Damian and Dick are, which is my favorite brand of things.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Be prepared for what I’m bout to tell you 👀 , ok one where the MC gets kidnapped and tortured for MONTHS like when m6 see MC again they are blind in one eye and have scars literally everywhere and that spark that they had is long gone and at first when the M6 found out MC was kidnapped let’s just say those months were like hell on earth for them . And MC didn’t change like at all they are still the same loving and caring person the m6 knows but something bout them Changed. ( you can add anything if you want,)

The Arcana HCs: What happens when MC takes down Valdemar but gets captured in the process

~ so apparently at least one person wants me to write more angst? I'll do my best but I can't make any promises. enjoy your pain, anon, and sorry in advance to anyone hoping for my usual fluff ~

(CW for mentions of torture, nightmares, flashbacks, panic attacks, medical horror, scarring, injuries, and your loved ones getting secondhand trauma from you)

It began as a quick errand to your gateway. You weren't going to be longer than a few minutes, you just wanted to test a theory about how having the Fool's body affected your impact in the magical realms. You didn't take anybody with you, and that was how you found yourself sucked into what used to be Death's domain before Valdemar took over.

Unfortunately for you, they had survived the Devil's demise and had become fascinated with your "back from the dead" situation. It was a week before you were able to get any communication back to your friends through one of their familiars, and another five of strategizing and secret messages before you were able to join forces and get rid of Valdemar for good. For that month and a half, you were kept half-alive on a gurney by day and spent your nights healing and plotting and missing your loved one and preparing to do it all over again in the morning.

Nobody had time to comment on your state when you reunited, you were too busy fighting a full-blown battle against Vesuvia's founding demon, and when you finally made it back home you were able to fall back into a sense of normalcy fairly quickly (you've been dead before, resiliency is one of your strong suits). But as well-developed as your coping skills are, the physical and psychological scars you carry aren't going to magically disappear.

Julian

The first day you were gone, he just figured you had found something exciting and were taking your time exploring it

By the third day, he wasn't nervous, not at all, he knows you love him and wouldn't leave him

By the fifth day, he's worried. Nobody else has heard from you, it's like you've just dropped off the planet

When Malak appears on the seventh day with a message from you in his beak he nearly cries with relief, until he reads what you've written to him

He's immediately assembling everyone he knows who cares about you, he knows he's not an expert when it comes to magic and he needs all the help he can get

He doesn't know what you're going through. Malak doesn't have the means to communicate that clearly with him and you never mention it in your letters

When the dust has settled and Asra's whisked you all back to Vesuvia he gets his first good look at you and feels like he's going to be sick

It's not the scars or the signs of malnutrition and fatigue that turn his stomach, it's that he knows Valdemar's work better than anyone else

Every scar his eye lands on, he's seeing horrific visions of exactly how it was made and he knows exactly what its effects were

All he wants to do is drink you in, and yet he can't bear to look at you

Once he gets you home, he's pulling out his extensive medical kits and dressing and wrapping the wounds that haven't healed fully yet

This is why he traded his memories for the gift to heal anyone he touches, and this is one of the few moments he's wondering if it's a bargain worth striking again

He knows, having been a doctor during the plague, that there are things about him that might remind you of Valdemar

He gets rid of any plague doctor gear he has left, he gets a discreet bag for his surgical tools and keeps it under lock and key, he even switches his big leather gloves out for smaller cotton ones so his touch can stay safe for you. He rarely puts on his double-breasted jacket

He sees and admires your resilience, but he knows what your nightmares are made of

He's already an insomniac, but now he barely sleeps at all and wakes up at the slightest motion to check on you

He's more in love with you than he ever was before, because after you suffered under and then defeated the creature he could never conquer on his own, you came home to him and trusted him to hold you together when it was time to fall apart

Asra

They knew something was wrong as soon as you were taken, they're remarkably in tune with the magical realms

At first he was worried about you, but confident in your abilities to take on any beast. He just wished he was next to you to help

But soon they noticed the bargain mark glowing intermittently on their chest and realized that something was actively threatening the life in your body, and that's when they stopped sleeping

He was calling every contact he had, asking Nadia to use her sight, asking Julian and Portia to write every sailor they knew, calling Muriel to cast stone after stone to get a read on your condition

By night they traveled every corner of the magical realms, seeking an audience with every major Arcana they could find

Until one week in, when he reached the border of Death's realm and found he couldn't cross

They sent Faust in by herself, where she found you slowly recuperating in your holding cell

When Asra saw you through his familiar's eyes his steady magician's hands began to shake

You were able to have a brief conversation with them that night, telling them not to come yet, telling them to go back to Vesuvia and gather as much force as they could until you had a plan, telling them that there wasn't a fighting chance otherwise

He was able to do as you requested, because he knew he wouldn't be able to save you if he burst in now, but every step away from you sent ice through his chest

Now that they knew where you were, they were able to establish a link with you through your shared heart for further planning

Against your warnings, he tried contacting you during the daytime the second week in, and found himself experiencing every physical sensation that you were

Muriel found them in your bed after Faust sent Inanna a frantic SOS, writhing in agony with tears streaming down their face, wailing through clenched teeth and refusing to let go of your connection until they blacked out because as long as they held on they could take it in your place

Every day for the next four weeks, you would get a few hours of sudden blissful numbness, knowing with a sinking heart that realms away he was buried in pillow pile where no one could hear his screams

The first weeks after your return, Nadia kept you both under close supervision in the palace for intensive physical and psychological care. She wasn't stupid and she has the ability to see magic, she had an idea of what had been happening

She only let you two leave once you had been fully healed of all your physical injuries and your mental states were stabilizing

Asra immediately took you out to their sanctuary in Nopal, where you spent the next nine months taking one day at a time

You did have weekly check in visits with his parents and Nazali, who has treated their fair share of POWs, and you were eventually able to move back to the shop and resume a normal life

As grateful as Death is to you for returning their realm to them, neither of you can touch their card without wincing and you never visit your gates or another realm without each other again

Nadia

She has plenty of regrets in life, but one thing she will never be able to forgive herself for is how long it took to notice that you were missing

You had asked her at dinner if you could use her contemplation tower to make a quick research trip into the magical realms, and she had freely given you permission

And the life of a Countess is so demanding, she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and she never checked if you came back that night

When she woke up and you weren't there she assumed you were taking an early start, and then didn't get back around to meeting up with you until dinner

Which is when she sat, and waited, watching the food grow cold and refusing to eat without you, deaf to the servants' whispers as she finally listened to the part of her intuition which had been telling her something was wrong all day

That night she went up to her tower to look for you and then immediately visited the High Priestess's realm

When the High Priestess told her that she saw you passing through your gate, and hadn't seen you return since, Nadia began her realm-wide manhunt for you

She had every one of her sisters keeping watch for you, partnering with Muriel to keep eyes on less populated areas, getting Julian and Portia to spread queries for you, asking Asra to search for you across the realms, offering a large reward to anyone who could tell her anything about you

When Chandra reached her with a message from you in her talons, it had been six days of endless searching

You were in Death's realm, the one place Asra hadn't been able to reach, and you had a plan to overthrow Valdemar for good

This was progress, the end was in sight

Until Chandra shared what she saw of you in a dream with her that night, and she woke up in a cold sweat, tempted to return to her Red Plague state of isolation and apathy

But her pain had a direction, and in the following five weeks every person who knew her name learned of the pure willpower the Countess of Vesuvia possessed

She already had arrangements made for the month after you returned to take you to the seaside for recovery, and you had all of half an hour to thank your friends and catch your breath with them before she bundled you onto her yacht

With the immediate post-trauma care you received, you got a boost to your recovery and were ready to begin trying out a normal life again when you returned to the palace

The one symptom you won't shake for a long time is the nightmares

Nadia never lets you go to sleep without her right there to enter your dreams with you. She wasn't there when your world fell apart, but there is no way she's ever leaving you to fight your demons alone again

Muriel

You had been chattering about your theories to him for weeks, so when he heard you were planning on traveling to your gate, he took you to his casting spot to do it

He stood in front of you as you faded from view, expecting to see you reappear with your trademark grin in a few minutes

And then an hour passed, so he sat down

And then a day passed, so he began to cast

And soon three days had passed, and he knew that you had been taken somewhere, but he was frozen in place because this is where he was going to meet you when you got back

Inanna took things in her own paws and went in search of Faust, who spoke to Asra, who found their way to where Muriel had been keeping watch for someone who still hadn't returned

Once Muriel had someone to shake him out of his stupor he rallied his courage and moved without stopping

He reappeared in town, head high and jaw set, knowing that if he ever wanted to let you do the talking for him again he'd have to find you first

Word spread through Vesuvia like wildfire, one of the heroes of the city had gone missing, and the other one would not stop his search until they were found

He headed deep into the ancient forest to the south to find answers, sending Inanna to patrol with Asra and sending daily correspondence through Chandra

Inanna separated from Asra one week in to find you as you lay in your cell, and that was the only time you ever heard her whimper

She lay next to you the whole night, trying to share her body heat with you and licking your wounds while you whispered the beginnings of a plan to her

The next morning Muriel woke up to his familiar in front of him, covered in blood that wasn't hers, with sharp eyes full of hurt and and an answer to where you were

Every evening for the next five weeks Inanna would come to keep you warm through the night, bringing letter after letter and herbs to soothe the pain

And every morning Muriel would watch for her to appear, covered in blood that wasn't her own, and take a shaky breath of relief when he saw the paper in her mouth that meant you were still alive and planning a way out

When you returned to him, he looked at you and saw himself, fresh from a prison reeking of death and covered in scars

Every evening, he lines your bed with the softest furs and keeps you warm through the night, a burly arm curled around you and the smoothest silk covering the marks that the gurney's leather straps left on your wrists and ankles

And every morning, he'll press feather light kisses across your face in hopes that living in your body will one day be as pleasant again for you as you have made it for him

Portia

You were on Vesuvia's ambassador ship together when you left to do your research

You had been teaching her magic for a while now, and she was becoming better and better at it

So that evening, as you hung your hammocks side by side, she asked to come with you. Show her your gate, show her your world, let her join you on your grand adventures

And you, tired and wanting to sleep but needing to get your questions settled, told her next time

Next time, once you're back in Vesuvia, and Asra and Muriel and Nadia are available in case anything goes wrong, and Pepi can help act as an anchor now that Portia recognizes her as her familiar

She gets where you're coming from, but she's still a little miffed, so after you disappear she rolls over and falls asleep in a sulk, expecting you to join her with a sleepy apology when you return

And now she's waking up like clockwork with the sunrise in her eyes, you aren't in her hammock, and you aren't in your hammock, and she wonders if she was too pushy

And then she wanders the ship, and you've vanished

In her opinion, you're the greatest magician to ever live, but she knows there's no way you could leave a ship in the middle of the ocean, and deeper down, she knows that unlike her brother you would never leave her like this

So she's ordering the ship back to Vesuvia at full speed, sending messenger pigeons ahead of her, and by the time she arrives a week later the manhunt is in full swing

As soon as she's back in the cottage, at the center of the garden where she grows her magic, all caught up with Pepi and fast asleep, her familiar finally has the means to reach you

Portia wakes up in the middle of the night to a frantic Pepi clawing at her arm in a desperate bid for attention, a message tied to her collar

Now she's running through Vesuvia at night, bursting through the door to the shop in tears, because she shouldn't have let you go alone, she should have been strong enough to join you and now you're past death's door at the mercy of the same creature that nearly cost her her brother's life

When all is said and done and you're back in her cottage, soaking up the sun's rays in her garden and regaining your strength with every dish she bakes you, she's still pushing herself to learn magic better than ever before

Because she's still waiting for that spark to return to your eyes, she's still hearing you wake in the night with a hoarse shout, she still sees you flinch every time the cutlery clinks when she sets the table for dinner

And she's not expecting you to live like it never happened, but she needs you to know that next time, she'll be strong enough to fight and bleed and love and suffer next to you

Lucio

He's down in his homeland with you finishing up a job when he loses you

You'd achieved your goal, you were on your second day of the journey back to where you received your commission, and you were passing by his old village

You two had shacked up together in his mother's old crumbling hut and you had laughed at all his crass jokes about it before telling him you'd be right back, you were just doing a quick research trip

So he built you a fire and he laid out your sleeping rolls and he fed the dogs, and you still hadn't returned

So he sat in the ghostly ruins of the tribe he lead to their deaths, and the sun came up, and you didn't return

It took Mercedes and Melchior's obnoxious barking to rouse him from his lost daze, and for one brief moment their familiar bond worked

As soon as he knew you were trapped in the Arcanas' realms, he was on his feet and heading dead north, hoping to find someone, anyone, who could tell him how to bring you back

He makes camp one week into his search near the Kokhuri's burial ground, careful to avoid the graves and praying for enough mercy in the magic-rich place to maintain the strength to continue

That night, he doesn't know how, one of the dogs makes it across and doesn't come back

And the next morning, a sense of dread he doesn't understand forces him from the site, as it is not the place for him to find rest

For the next five weeks Melchior stays in your cell, somehow invisible even to Valdemar, keeping watch while you sleep and relaying messages to Mercedes

Lucio knows that Mercedes knows something, and he knows that Melchior is wherever you are, and he knows he needs someone who can speak to them better than he can

So he shows back up in Vesuvia three weeks into your disappearance, begging for help

Mercedes is most familiar with Chandra, who in turn has practice speaking to Faust, who tells Asra who tells everyone gathered that you're trapped in the Devil's realm at Valdemar's mercy

For once nobody is blaming him, but deep down he's carrying that fact that the creature toying with your life is the same one he handed so much power to

When you make it back and it's clear you'll need time to recover, he leaves the wandering life behind and places himself under Nadia's command to train the palace guards with his years of battle experience so you can rest

He sleeps in the afternoons now, so he can keep watch during the nights and wake you up when you're hit with the phantom pains he's all-too familiar with

[feyhunter78]

The Innocent's Folly pt. 3

Description: Your pregnancy is announced and Aemond grows distant, while rumors swirl and reach your ear with the help of your good-brother Aegon.

Previous chapter, Next chapter

Alicent worries, she worries often, about many things, but on this day she in particular worries about Aemond. She knew it was a large sacrifice she asked him to make, to marry y/n in order to gain information on Rhaenyra, but now she worries it has gone too far.

Y/N, sweet y/n has come to her, smiling and radiant as she excitedly told Alicent that she was with child.

She wasn’t aware that Aemond had such feelings for the girl and when she asked him, he mentioned the conversation he had with his grandsire, which turned her stomach.

A child for power was a trade she herself had been forced to make, and it was not one she wished for her own children. But what could be done? Y/N was happy, Aemond seemed happy, and Alicent couldn’t deny that the thought of another grandchild made her heart sing.

She bites at that skin around her thumb as her mind lingers on that word seemed, what if her son was truly unhappy? No child should grow up with an absent father, and while she had faith in her son, she knew the tension unwanted children bred.

This was not the first time she wondered if perhaps this plan was too cruel, y/n genuinely loved Aemond and had been striving to do her very best to fit in to the family. When she tripped over her words, or the light dimmed in her eyes at a passing insult from Aegon or Otto, Alicent couldn’t help but see herself in the young girl.

She ripped her finger from her mouth, no, this was for Aegon, for her children, y/n would be well taken care of even if once Aegon was on the throne, Aemond decided he no longer wanted her.

You hummed in contentment as you walked through the gardens with Helaena, arm in arm as she told you, her experiences with pregnancy. She did her best to make it not seem terrifying, but you knew better, having assisted in the Princess Rhaenyra’s births, you felt a bit more prepared than then average noblewoman.

Helaena was called away, and you wandered back into the keep, your hand resting on your small bump, you couldn’t wait to be a mother, and have someone to pour all your love into.

 Since the announcement of your pregnancy, Aemond had withdrawn from you. Your good-mother assured you it was simply nerves, but you couldn’t help but think back to the hushed conversation you’d had with Ana, a kitchen maid, and one of your closest friend.

“I hate to tell you this y/n, I know how much you love him but…”

“But what? Ana, you are one of my closest companions, I trust you with my life, and that will never change.”

Ana fidgeted with the strings of her apron. “I’ve been hearin’ that the prince has taken to joining his brother down on Silk Street, they say he’s been asking for someone who looks like a certain woman, but it isn’t you.”

You had swallowed hard and thanked Ana, asking her to keep her ears open for you.

“Sweet good-sister, how lovely to see you.” Aegon said, suddenly appearing at your side, and linking arms with you.

“Aegon, hello, how are you this afternoon?” You asked politely, wary of his hands and where they might try to travel.

“Better now that I know my plans for this evening.” He drawled, giving you a smile that set your nerves on edge.

“Oh? Is there an event I have yet to hear about?”

“No, it is simply a brotherhood event, a celebration of manhood.”

“Ah, I see, well that sounds like it will be quite fun for you.” You looked down at your feet, worries beginning to dissipate.

“And Aemond.” He added.

“Aemond is going?” Your worries returned, and your hand fell to your stomach.

“Yes, but he will be safe, worry not.”

“I am sure he will be; I would not bet against the two of you in a fight.” You laughed but didn’t feel it.

“He is the better swordsman, for sure.”

“Yes, but it is you both as a team that makes me feel protected.” You looked up at him and found a flicker of sympathy in his eyes.

“Let me escort you back to your quarters y/n, you are with child, you should rest.”

Aegon continued to ask you questions about your wellbeing as he walked you back to you and Aemond’s shared quarters. As he opened the door for you, he scanned the room then lowered his voice. “Tonight, midnight, find the painting with the purple roses and follow the tunnel through there, you will be looking for the Gilded Lady, a pillowhouse on Silk Street. Let no one see you.”

You wanted to ask questions, but he shook his head.

“I take no pleasure in this, but I do believe you deserve the truth.”

Then he left, and you stood in the doorway, head spinning as you tried to digest the information he’d given you.

“Sweet y/n, are you waiting to welcome me home?” Aemond called, a slight smile on his face as he approached you.

You nodded, still half in your thoughts, only to be broken out of it by Aemond tilting your chin up and kissing you, his hand resting on your stomach.

“And how fares our son?”

You follow him into your quarters and sit at the table. “Well, the morning sickness has finally retreated.”

“That is good to hear, have you spoken with Helaena about her experiences with childbirth?”

“Yes, I did today, and I have assisted in births before I am not scared, not yet at least.”

He kneels before you and reached up, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “My brave wife, I cannot wait to see our son.”

You leaned into his touch, confused but grateful for his sudden increase in affection. Perhaps now was the time to ask him to warm your bed once more. “I have received a new nightgown, and wish to wear it, do you have plans tonight?”

“We cannot try for another babe until this one has been born.” He laughed, releasing your face and moving over to the dresser.

“Well, that is not the only reason one might wish to sleep with their husband.” You said, cheeks burning. The way Aemond had acted the night your child was conceived had you believing he would jump at the chance to be intimate with you again.

“Unfortunately, I do have plans, I must take Vhagar and fly to Oldtown. Grandsire has taken to using me as his personal delivery boy.”

You stood; hands bunched in your skirts. “But Vhagar is massive it will take her no time to fly to Oldtown and back, could you not go in the morning?”

“Y/N, I must go, I cannot stay merely because you hunger for me.”

You moved to him and when he turned, you sunk to your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him, your hands on his thighs. “But do you not hunger for me as well, husband?”

He took your hands and pulled you to your feet. “Do not do that, you look like a whore.”

Your chest squeezed, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. His words were like blows, and shame rushed to your cheeks. You hung your head. “Apologies, husband, I simply wished—”

He cut you off. “I must leave now, Vhagar has been temperamental all day.” Then he squeezed your hand and left the room.

You waited until he was gone to let the tears flow. You had never been so embarrassed or rejected so cruelly.

You wanted to fling yourself into your bed and cry under the covers, but you steeled yourself. Perhaps he was simply attempting to correct you on what a prince’s wife does and does not do. Or perhaps he didn’t enjoy that type of pleasure, he’d never asked it from you before.

You wiped away your tears and decided to return to sewing the blanket for your unborn child.

Tag list: @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhhaa, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon