#heavy angst with a sad ending | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ryuzakistoe · 26 days ago

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Empty Crown (Michael Kaiser x Fem!reader)

Angst, angst with no happy ending (sadly), mentioning of Kaisers past, fem!reader, Michael Kaiser, language, sports journalist {reader}, intimate kissing, smuttt, finger fucking, breast fucking, bedroom sex, body pleasure/worship, manipulation kink, vaginal sex and the usual smut stuff, arguing

a/n: I've seen a bunch of Kaiser edits on my fyp recently so…

I think this is longer than my Sae one i believe. Also its kind of hard trying to keep Kaiser from being ooc..

_______

(no song either)

She had always been captivated by the idea of uncovering a player's true feelings—their raw, unfiltered intentions. It wasn’t just the game that intrigued her but the psychology behind it: how they felt under pressure, how they prepared for battle, how they devised strategies to secure victory. It was a puzzle she never tired of solving.

Her career had already brought her face-to-face with some of the biggest names in sports, particularly soccer. But today, she was in Germany, seated across from a man whose reputation transcended the field—a man known as "God's Chosen Emperor." To say she found him fascinating would be a gross understatement.

But her curiosity wasn’t limited to the shiny veneer of titles or the glory his name commanded. No, what truly intrigued her was the truth lurking behind the gilded facade. Who was he beneath the crown? What did his victories cost him? What emotions stirred beneath that composed exterior?

He smirked, his confidence radiating like an aura, as his piercing eyes studied her from across the table. His gaze flickered briefly to the pen in her hand, moving in sharp, deliberate strokes as she jotted down notes in the folder resting on her lap. The room crackled with an unspoken tension—one born of his arrogance and her relentless pursuit of the truth.

"So, Kaiser—or should I say Michael Kaiser—how does the excitement, the thrill of making those goals with that inhuman kick of yours, make you feel on the field?" she asked, her tone even but her eyes sharp. She lifted her head, her gaze locking onto him with purpose as her pen hovered just above the paper, poised to catch every word.

Kaiser leaned back in his chair, his grin widening, as though the question was a cue for him to bask in his own legend. Of course, it felt good—no, better than good. For the self-proclaimed "king" of the pitch, every goal was another piece moved in his personal game of chess. Every calculated strike, every triumphant roar of the crowd was proof of his dominion. Confidence, skill, and a charm that bordered on arrogance made him untouchable, both on and off the field.

He thrived on the adoration of fans, the envy of rivals, and the weight of the crown he so proudly wore. Each goal was a reminder of his superiority, a validation of his reign. So naturally, they brought him pleasure.

"Y/n L/n, wasn’t it?" he said, his voice smooth, laced with the kind of pride that made his name synonymous with greatness. His smile, sharp and practiced, creased his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. "To answer your question, those goals feel... exhilarating," he said, drawing out the word like it was a secret only he truly understood.

Her brow arched, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Exhilarating, you say? And how, exactly, does that feel for someone like you?" she pressed, her tone deceptively casual.

Kaiser chuckled, his grin deepening. This was a game he was all too familiar with—a battle of wits as much as words. And just like on the field, he had no intention of losing.

Kaiser leaned back into the chair with an air of effortless confidence. "Exhilarating in a way that makes me feel exemplary, of course," he said, his voice smooth, almost lazy, as if the answer was obvious. "Like I'm the only one on the field, and all the lights are directed at me." His words carried the weight of someone who thrived on being the center of the universe.

Y/n nodded, her pen gliding swiftly across the paper as she recorded his response. "Do you believe you’re the only one capable of such outstanding goals?" she asked, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp, gauging his reaction.

Kaiser’s grin widened, his signature arrogance gleaming like a polished trophy. "Well, of course," he replied, as if the question itself was redundant.

She hummed thoughtfully, acknowledging his answer while continuing to write. Then, after a calculated pause, she glanced up. "Say... people have been wondering. Why did you start playing soccer? Was it just a childhood hobby that turned into a career, or was there something deeper behind it?"

For the briefest moment, his smirk faltered. It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but not to her. She caught it instantly, her keen eye trained to spot the cracks beneath even the most carefully constructed facades. This was why she thrived in her line of work: not for the surface-level answers, but for the truths that slipped through the gaps, the ones people didn’t mean to reveal.

She lived for the unraveling. For the moments when masks slipped and raw humanity peeked through, unguarded. Truths that couldn’t be packaged for headlines or social media clout. Truths that even the interviewee might not fully recognize until they heard themselves say it.

She waited, her pen hovering, her silence a subtle push. Would Kaiser retreat behind his armor of arrogance, or would he crack under the weight of her question?

She was relentless. Every question, every glance, was calculated. She didn’t just want answers—she wanted the truth. The person beneath the accolades and bravado. To her, interviews were more than conversations; they were excavations. And if breaking someone’s polished exterior was what it took to uncover their real identity, she was willing to do it.

That fleeting crack in Kaiser’s smirk had barely formed before it repaired itself, his composure snapping back into place. "I guess it was just a childhood game I grew to enjoy," he said smoothly. "Well, it was the only thing I did enjoy back in my childhood years."

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in subtle curiosity. "The only thing you enjoyed back then? How so?" she asked, her voice light, but her intent razor-sharp.

Kaiser’s grin didn’t waver, but there was something guarded in the way he adjusted his posture. He was a master of deception, a pathological liar wrapped in layers of charm and self-assuredness. Few could see through the dense fog of lies he spun. At first glance, he appeared invincible—strong, untouchable. But beneath the sheen of arrogance lay a man who feared vulnerability more than failure. A man who had built walls so high, even he seemed unsure what lay behind them.

Crossing one leg over the other, he leaned back, his elbow propped on the armrest, his hand resting against his cheek as though the question was of little consequence. "It was just something I found fun," he replied, his tone casual, practiced. "The cool tricks I saw—and later mastered—with the soccer ball never failed to impress me. It kept me inspired, in a way."

Her pen paused mid-stroke, her gaze never leaving him. His answer was polished, the kind of response that would satisfy most interviewers. But she wasn’t most interviewers. The careful detachment in his tone, the calculated ease of his posture—it was all too perfect. Too rehearsed.

She leaned forward slightly, her pen hovering over the page. "Inspired?" she echoed softly, her voice carrying the kind of weight that dared him to elaborate. She didn’t need to push hard; the cracks in his mask were already there. All she had to do was wait.

Y/N’s pen moved steadily across the page, her practiced precision unbroken. Yet something about his tone, his carefully curated demeanor, set off a quiet alarm in her mind. The answer he gave wasn’t wrong, exactly, but it felt... off. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it didn’t sit right.

She prided herself on her ability to read people, to sift through the layers of their words and find the truths buried underneath. So why was the man in front of her so hard to decipher?

Her hand froze mid-sentence as her brows knit together in thought, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied him, trying to unravel the threads of his performance. But after a brief moment, she resumed writing, forcing herself to focus, even as her instincts whispered that something was being deliberately concealed.

Unbeknownst to her, Kaiser’s gaze remained fixed on her, his grin widening ever so slightly with each passing second. Amusement flickered in his eyes like a spark threatening to ignite. He could tell she was struggling, and he loved it. Watching someone so perceptive, someone with a reputation for cracking even the toughest facades, falter in his presence? It was thrilling.

Kaiser thrived on this—on games, on control, on keeping everyone around him unbalanced. He’d done his homework on her, of course. Well, technically, his "buddy" had. He knew all about the headlines she’d made, exposing the untold truths of players far less guarded than he was. She was clever, skilled, and dangerously persistent.

But Kaiser was no ordinary interview subject. He had perfected the art of manipulation, and one thing he relished above all else was the sport of toying with people. Watching them scramble, watching them doubt themselves, only to realize too late that he’d been pulling the strings all along.

And right now? The woman in front of him was another game he intended to win.

He relished the feeling of holding people in the palm of his hand, their pride crumbling beneath his calculated words. There was a unique satisfaction in breaking egos, in bending others to his will. Control wasn’t just a tool to him—it was an art form. And soon, he decided, Y/N would be another masterpiece in his growing collection.

But she wasn’t so easily swayed. A faint shake of her head seemed to clear whatever troubled thoughts had momentarily clouded her focus. Her pen stilled, and her eyes locked onto his, sharp and unyielding. "So, Kaiser," she began, her tone precise, cutting through the air like a blade. "It’s impossible not to notice how you’ve surpassed and crushed your rivals. But tell me, do you ever get tired of playing the villain?"

Her question struck like a well-placed shot, catching him off guard. For a moment, the silence between them stretched taut. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied her, his eyes narrowing as if she were a puzzle he hadn’t yet solved. Then, as the tension reached its peak, a grin broke across his previously expressionless face, slow and deliberate.

"No," he said finally, his voice low but firm. "Never."

He took pride in being the villain in other people’s stories. To him, the title was a badge of honor, a mark of his ability to dominate and destroy. Being the villain gave him permission—no, purpose—to crush people without restraint. To watch their downfall unfold, step by step, especially when he was the architect of their demise.

His grin deepened, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous amusement. "The villain," he continued, leaning forward slightly, "always wins in the end, don’t you think?"

༻♕༺

Kaiser tilted his head back, the cool water cascading down his throat as he chugged the bottle Ness had handed him. His Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow, and when he was done, he let out a satisfied sigh, setting the bottle down with a soft clink.

"That girl... she’s annoyingly perceptive," he muttered, almost to himself.

Ness, seated beside him on the bench overlooking the empty football field, turned his head sharply at the comment. His brows furrowed. "Girl? You mean that journalist from earlier?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

Kaiser hummed in response, his gaze fixed on the field as if the game were still unfolding in his mind. "Yeah, her."

For a moment, Ness hesitated, his teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek. He debated whether to ask the question lingering on his mind. Finally, he caved, his voice quieter than before. "What... what do you mean by ‘annoyingly perceptive’?"

Kaiser didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked toward Ness, studying him briefly before turning back to the horizon. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a flicker of amusement and unease mingling in his expression.

"She might just figure me out," he said, his voice carrying a rare hint of vulnerability beneath the usual confidence. His smirk deepened as he added, almost as an afterthought, "My past, I mean."

Ness blinked, caught off guard by the admission. Kaiser never talked about his past—it was a subject shrouded in mystery, just like the man himself. He opened his mouth to press further but hesitated, the weight of Kaiser’s words lingering between them like an unspoken challenge.

Ness’s eyes widened at Kaiser’s response, panic flickering across his face. "B-but Kaiser, wouldn’t that be bad? She could expose you! What if she digs up all your personal information and reveals it to the public—"

"You don’t think I know that, Ness?" Kaiser interrupted smoothly, his smirk remaining intact. If anything, it only widened.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he turned to face Ness, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Don’t you get it, Ness? It’ll be fun."

Ness blinked, his growing unease evident in the way his shoulders stiffened. "Kaiser…"

But Kaiser wasn’t finished. His voice carried an almost playful edge, one that made Ness’s skin crawl. "It’ll be entertaining to watch someone so desperate try to figure me out. And even more fun to lead her astray—with nothing but lies."

Ness remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. He knew better than to interrupt when Kaiser was on a roll.

"I’ll manipulate her," Kaiser continued, his tone almost gleeful. "Toy with her, twist her perception until she doesn’t know what’s real anymore. I’ll use her like a puppet, feeding her one lie after another, watching as she clings to every word."

He laughed, the sound low and rich, as though the thought alone was enough to entertain him. The image of Y/N caught in his web, entirely at his mercy, sent a thrill through him.

"Wouldn’t that be exhilarating, Ness?" he asked, his voice carrying a dangerous undercurrent.

Ness swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. The gleam in Kaiser’s eyes was unsettling, and though he knew better than to challenge him, a quiet unease settled in the pit of his stomach.

Ness swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go down. The way Kaiser looked at him—eyes alight with excitement, yet darkened by something almost sinister—sent a chill crawling up his spine. The sheer thrill Kaiser seemed to derive from his schemes was unnerving, but Ness knew better than to voice his discomfort.

All he could do was nod. Agreeing with Kaiser’s antics, no matter how twisted, was easier than opposing him. He’d long since learned that resistance only amused Kaiser further.

It had been a while since Ness had seen his idol take such a keen interest in something—or, more accurately, someone. Kaiser rarely fixated on individuals; people were disposable to him, fleeting sources of entertainment at best. But now, it seemed, he’d found a new toy.

Ness’s stomach churned at the thought. He’d seen it before: the way Kaiser broke people down, piece by piece, until they were little more than playthings to him. And yet, this time felt different. There was a dangerous spark in Kaiser’s eyes, an almost childlike glee at the prospect of unraveling someone so clever, so perceptive.

It wouldn’t be long now. Kaiser’s newest "interest" would soon find themselves caught in his web, and Ness could already foresee the chaos that would follow.

༻♕༺

He always knew where she’d be. Her schedule, the events she’d attend—it was all too easy to track. With that knowledge in his back pocket, he’d find her in the crowd, scanning for her familiar figure among the sea of faces, certain she was either there or just a few steps away.

It was strange, he thought. Putting in this much effort for someone—it wasn’t his usual style. But something about her, something about the way she moved through the world, made it impossible not to seek her out.

And today, she was at a press conference. Of course, he’d be there too.

Kaiser approached her quietly, his footsteps soft as the press conference wrapped up, the chatter of departing attendees filling the air. She was engaged in conversation with someone—an individual who radiated importance. The man wore a sharp suit and tie, paired with glasses from an expensive brand, and a watch that spoke of wealth and status. He practically screamed high-profile.

Kaiser tapped her shoulder lightly, interrupting their exchange, and she immediately turned to face him.

Their eyes met, and what struck him was the lack of surprise in her gaze. There was no shock, no flurry of confusion—just calm recognition, as though she’d been expecting him all along.

She wasn’t blind. She had seen him at every event she attended, at first dismissing it as coincidence. But now, after so many encounters, she could no longer deny the truth.

Kaiser had been following her.

Y/N knew what that meant. She knew that no one in their right mind stalked someone without a reason. And she was certain Kaiser didn’t do anything without a purpose. Whatever game he was playing, she knew she was a part of it.

Y/N’s curiosity burned brighter than ever. She was determined to uncover Kaiser’s intentions, to see what game he was playing this time.

"Kaiser, it's great to see you," she said with a calm smile, her attention fully on him now.

Kaiser’s smirk only deepened at her greeting. "I can say the same thing, Ms. Journalist," he teased, his voice smooth and laced with a playful challenge.

He studied her, his eyes raking over her with deliberate intent. She was attractive, no doubt about it. But Kaiser’s mind was on something else entirely. Her appearance didn’t matter to him in this moment; his goal was simpler—to get under her skin, to make her unravel, to watch her crumble before him.

"Would you look at you?" He took a step closer, his tone shifting to something more dangerous. "You look irresistible, Ms. Y/N."

The words hung in the air as he leaned in, inching ever closer, his presence all-consuming. "Are you trying to seduce the men here? If so, it’s working," he murmured, his breath grazing her ear.

Y/N’s eyebrow arched, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she took a step back, putting some distance between them. She wasn’t intimidated. She knew Kaiser all too well—his charm, his power over people. He could have anyone kneel before him in seconds, and it was the one thing he loved to brag about.

But she was perceptive of him. She’d seen through his games before. She wasn’t about to let him win that easily.

A small laugh escaped her lips, and she shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Sorry, Kaiser. That’s not going to work on me."

For the briefest moment, his teasing smirk faltered, replaced by a pout that almost seemed forced. "That’s a shame. I really thought you’d fall for my compliments," he said, his grin returning in full force. "How could I help myself? You look very... tasty," he added, emphasizing the last word with a playful gleam in his eyes.

She laughed again, shaking her head at his antics. "That’s all you know how to do, huh? Flirt. You’re so used to having people fall at your feet that you don’t know how to have a real conversation, do you?"

Kaiser’s smirk returned, wider this time, his gaze sharpening with a flicker of admiration for the way she held her ground. "Oh, you wound me, Y/N," he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if her words had struck him deeply.

This was a new record for Kaiser. Out of all the people he’d spoken to, she was the only one who didn’t get swept up in his charm. The only one who didn’t fawn over him. And it intrigued him. Never before had he felt this kind of genuine interest in a conversation.

What was even more surprising was that he hadn’t once grown bored. Their interactions, especially the ones where he accidentally bumped into her, were becoming more engaging with every exchange. This one, in particular, was the most stimulating yet. And that only fueled his curiosity even more.

_______

Bit by bit, Kaiser began to lower his guard around her, the cracks in his facade growing wider with every interaction. Unknowingly, he allowed Y/N to catch glimpses of the man beneath the crown—fragments of a person that few ever saw.

And despite every instinct telling her to walk away, Y/N found herself inexplicably drawn to him. She knew who he was, what he represented. She understood the chaos that swirled around his world, the power he wielded, and the danger that came with being entangled in it. Yet, despite that, she couldn’t tear herself away.

She had her reasons, of course. The first, and most obvious, was the truth—the truth that lay just beneath his carefully constructed mask. The truth that had eluded her for so long, no matter how many times she tried to unravel it.

But there was something else, something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. A pull, a magnetic force that seemed to draw her in. It wasn’t just his looks, nor his sharp, confident personality. She’d encountered countless famous men, men just as attractive, just as bold. And yet, none had ever affected her this way.

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the sensation he gave her—the way he made her feel like she was the only one in the room, like she was a part of something dangerous and exhilarating. It was a feeling that both thrilled and unnerved her. But there it was, undeniable. She was tethered to him in a way that made no sense, and that fact alone was enough to keep her coming back.

So, she was left with only one conclusion: the sensation he left her with. A strange, undeniable craving for more. It was an odd feeling, something that gnawed at her insides with an intensity she couldn’t quite understand.

But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just that. There was something else—something beneath the surface that kept her tethered to him, something that made her unable to look away. What was it about him that had this hold on her? What was it that made her so drawn to him, despite knowing all the risks?

The answers she sought would come, sooner than she anticipated. After the press conference, everything changed.

From that night onward, they grew closer. Closer than she had ever expected. Their interactions shifted from professional to personal, the banter, the snarky retorts, becoming a comfortable rhythm between them.

The facades they’d both so carefully built began to crack, slowly, piece by piece, until there was little left to hide behind. And as the walls came down, the truth—about him, about her—started to reveal itself in ways neither of them had anticipated.

༻♕༺

The cold seeped into her bones, a biting winter chill that seemed to freeze everything around her. But it wasn’t just the weather. No, the real cold came from something far deeper.

Y/N stood behind him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pity and disbelief. She had never seen him like this—vulnerable, shaken, a far cry from the confident, unshakable man she was used to.

It was a rare loss, one that had taken more from him than anyone could have anticipated. A loss that had clearly left its mark, its weight pressing down on him in ways he couldn’t hide. The toll it had taken on him was evident in every tense line of his posture, every stiff breath he took.

This wasn’t just a defeat—it was something far more personal. And for the first time, Y/N wondered if he would ever be the same again.

The cold bit at her skin, sharp and unforgiving, the air heavy with the weight of winter. But it wasn’t just the chill of the season that made everything feel frozen. It was the coldness of something deeper, a loss that had struck like an icy gust of wind, leaving everything in its wake distant and hollow.

This wasn’t just any loss—it was rare. And it had taken more than just the game from him. It had cost him something personal, something she could feel even without knowing the full extent of it.

The match had ended hours ago, but Kaiser remained. Alone. Silent. His figure barely visible in the fading light of the pitch, his usual confidence stripped away.

With every step she took toward him, the cold seemed to grow sharper, more furious, as if it was fighting her approach. But she didn’t stop. Even as it felt like she was wading through a blizzard, Y/N pressed on.

Finally, she stood closer to him, close enough to see his face—or what little of it she could. His head hung low, his hair casting shadows that obscured his expression.

When she finally caught a glimpse, her breath caught in her throat. It was a look she was unfamiliar with, one that didn’t belong to the Kaiser she knew. It was raw, unguarded—something close to defeat, but deeper, more complicated than just that. And for the first time, Y/N wondered if the man she had been chasing after was even the person he pretended to be.

He looked like a shell of himself. Empty.

For the first time, Kaiser appeared as though he had lost everything—not just the match, but something far more profound. To him, this wasn’t just a game lost; this was personal. His team had lost. He had lost. And that shattered the very foundation of his pride.

Losing wasn’t a part of his world. It wasn’t even something that registered in his vocabulary.

So when the final whistle blew and his team was declared defeated, it wasn’t just a score—it was a rupture in everything he believed. He shattered. The loss was far more than the scoreboard. It meant he was a failure, and that idea cut deeper than any defeat ever could.

Y/N could see the pain in his eyes, the kind of raw agony that an emperor, someone so used to control and dominance, rarely allowed anyone to witness. It was a vulnerability she wasn’t prepared for.

That’s when it hit her—Kaiser was no longer the man who ruled the field, untouchable and arrogant. He was just a person, fragile and broken.

Her heart clenched in her chest. She hadn’t expected to feel sympathy for him, but there it was, overwhelming.

Without thinking, she stepped closer. "Kaiser..." Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, a note of concern breaking through her usual sharpness.

The words barely registered in Kaiser’s mind, but the tone did. It was different from the usual sharpness he was accustomed to. When he spared a glance at Y/N, it wasn’t the smirk or the arrogance he often wore in her presence—it was something far more guarded. But at least she knew he acknowledged her.

"Kaiser, talk to me." Her voice was quieter this time, more insistent.

Y/N had never expected to care for him this way. For so long, her focus had been solely on uncovering the truth, on peeling back the layers of the man who intrigued and frustrated her. But with every moment spent near him, the answers she sought only seemed to deepen the mystery. And now, in this strange moment, she found herself questioning something else entirely: Did he care about her, too?

But Kaiser didn’t respond. He remained as still as stone, his silence speaking volumes. His mind was a battlefield—on one side, the urge to push her away, to demand she leave him in peace. On the other, an inexplicable resistance to that very thought.

The inner conflict tore at him. His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face twitched. The only outward sign of his internal struggle.

He was furious—furious at the loss, at the feeling of vulnerability she seemed to evoke, at the strange mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Confusion clouded his eyes, and for once, Kaiser found himself at a loss.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what she wanted from him. And he certainly didn’t know what he wanted from her.

"I hate this."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the words, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. Finally, after all the silence, he spoke.

"Hate what, Kaiser?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t even sure what she was asking—she just needed him to respond, to break the suffocating silence between them.

"I hate what I'm feeling right now." His voice was softer now, almost as if he didn’t want anyone to hear it. His head drooped even further, his posture slumped under the weight of something far heavier than just the game.

Y/N’s eyes softened as she watched him, her heart tugging painfully. She felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for him, but at the same time, she felt helpless. What could she do? Every time she tried to reach out, he shut her down, pushing her away with his walls.

She had seen it all—the game, the way the light in his eyes dimmed with each passing moment, the defeat that seemed to crush him. It was a rare sight, this version of Kaiser. The one who wasn’t so certain, so untouchable.

"It’ll get better, Kaiser. I swear," she said quietly, almost pleading with him to hear her, to believe in her words.

But a small scoff escaped his lips, laced with annoyance and something darker—frustration, confusion. "How? How can it get better, Y/N?" he snapped, his voice sharp.

A frown tugged at Y/N's lips as she watched him. "The feelings are temporary, Kaiser. I know it feels like shit right now, but it won't last. You did great, regardless—and for that, I’m proud. Others are, too, I think—"

But before she could finish, Kaiser interrupted her, his words cutting through the air with an edge that startled her. "Did you know I hate losing?"

Y/N blinked, her breath catching slightly at his tone. But he didn’t stop.

"I hate losing, not because it hurts my pride," he continued, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, darker. "But because it reminds me that everything—this, my career, my reputation—can disappear in an instant."

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, and then, more quietly, he added, "It brings back the memories of the old me. It’s like reliving the past all over again. All the way back to my old household… back to how useless I was. I was pathetic. I was nothing."

His words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Y/N’s eyes widened just for a fraction, the weight of his confession settling over her. She quickly masked her surprise, but something inside her stirred.

This was new. Kaiser had never spoken like this before. He had never let her—or anyone—see beneath the mask he wore so carefully.

And for the first time, she felt the barrier he had placed between himself and the world—the one that had kept his true feelings locked away—begin to crack. She could see it. She could feel it.

Her heart swelled with something she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t sympathy. It was something deeper—something that made her want to keep listening, keep understanding.

This was the truth she had searched for. The truth she had wanted to uncover all along. The one that had eluded her, hiding behind all the layers Kaiser had carefully constructed. And now, for the first time, she was seeing it for what it truly was.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the emotions swirling inside her.

“I despise losing in a way too, Kaiser,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kaiser’s gaze shifted to hers, catching her off guard. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but she wasn’t expecting this—this quiet attentiveness. This was the first time she had seen him focus on her with such intent.

“I hate that losing against people who are far more superior than me takes such a huge toll on me,” she continued, her words flowing slowly, as if each one carried more weight than the last. “It’s like I’ll never measure up in a world dominated by people who are better.”

His entire attention was on her now. She could feel it. And for some strange reason, it eased the tension that had been building in her chest. It felt… calming to know that, for once, someone else understood. Even if it was just in this small moment.

"I’ve always feared the people who were better—who were born with gifts I could never surpass," she said, her voice softening with each word. “But I always fucking hated that about myself,” she whispered, the words carrying an undertone of self-loathing she hadn’t shared with anyone before.

Y/n gritted her teeth slightly, her eyes narrowing in a mix of regret and frustration. The vulnerability was almost suffocating, but it was real. It was raw. And in this moment, she wasn’t afraid to show it.

Kaiser noticed the shift in her expression—the self-hate she had felt earlier now seemed to dissipate, replaced by something more complex, something that caught him off guard. It was the same surprise that stirred within him.

"It bothered me so much, the fact that I always managed to push myself down at any given moment when I saw someone even just the slightest bit better than me," she continued, her voice steady, though it carried a weight. "It made me feel even more worthless than I really was. All I did was force myself into believing I was lower than everyone else when, in reality, I was so much more than that."

She finally lifted her gaze to meet his. It wasn’t the confusion he was used to seeing. No, this time she held his stare with something softer—something almost vulnerable. He found himself looking at her with a kind of admiration, something unfamiliar to him, mixed with a flicker of surprise.

"Y/n," he mumbled, his voice no longer tinged with irritation, but instead with a curiosity that mirrored his feelings. "I don’t want to see the same thing in you, Kaiser," she added, her words a quiet confession that hit him harder than he expected. "It bothers me so much when I see someone making themselves feel like shit."

Her admission stilled him, and his chest tightened at the rawness of her words. "I didn’t want to see what I went through in your eyes."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, he felt a shift—a shift in the way his heart pounded. Did she care for him? The thought was almost foreign, but the possibility of it lodged itself deep within him. Someone who cared. For him.

The realization made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t explain. It was an emotion he hadn’t quite known how to process, but it was there, undeniable and consuming.

Kaiser’s heart raced as he asked the question, though he already knew the answer—or so he thought. "Y/n, do you... care?"

It was blunt, direct. He needed an answer, even if it hurt him further. The silence that followed stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts.

Y/n froze, her eyes searching for an answer within herself, and that’s when it hit her—she cared. All the confusion, the uncertainty, the strange pull toward him… it all made sense now. Those feelings she had tried to unravel earlier, they were tied to this simple, yet profound word.

Care.

The realization crashed over her. That was it. That was why her heart felt heavy. Why she couldn’t tear herself away from him. Yes, it was hard to believe, hard to admit, but in that moment, it was undeniable.

She cared.

For Michael Kaiser.

The word fit perfectly. It was the missing piece that made everything click. It felt right. Perfect, even.

She didn’t hesitate this time, her voice softer than before. "I do, Kaiser, I really do."

It was enough. That simple truth was all Kaiser needed to hear. For the first time in what felt like forever, someone—anyone—cared for him. The weight of her words settled into his chest, filling a space he didn’t know had been empty for so long.

And in that moment, it felt like a dream come true. Like he could finally exhale, like he was at peace. At rest.

Someone cared for him. The thought alone made his heart ache in a way he wasn’t used to, the tenderness stirring deep within. His eyes softened, losing the usual sharpness that defined him.

There was no smirk now. Instead, a smile—a real, unguarded smile—replaced it. It was subtle, but it was there.

He took a step toward her, then another, until the space between them dwindled to nearly nothing. She could feel his presence, so close now that her heart began to race with uncertainty and anticipation. It was like the world had quieted around them, and everything he was—everything he had hidden—was on the brink of being laid bare.

Just for today, he told himself. Just for today, his guard would be lowered. Just for today, he would let the mask fall.

His chest tightened with something more than nervousness—something that felt raw and unspoken. A pull, a need, an undeniable feeling that screamed at him to take action.

And surprisingly, he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t force his body to stop. For once, he didn’t fight against it.

Now, in this moment, he realized the truth—he cared for her too. And he wanted her to care for him forever.

He took that final step. The one that closed the distance between them, the step that meant everything. The step that brought them together, on the edge of something neither of them had expected, but both knew would change everything.

He reached up, his hand gently cupping her chin, guiding her face toward his. His eyes locked onto hers, searching for something, anything—confirmation of what they both already knew.

Her eyes, wide and vulnerable, spoke the truth without words. They were everything she had just confessed. And then, his gaze dropped lower. Her lips—soft, full, and so inviting—pulled him in, a magnetic force he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to. They were perfect. Delicious. Everything he never thought he'd want, yet now couldn't imagine living without.

He studied her entire face, her entire being, drinking in every detail. And in that moment, he realized he was lost. Completely. And it was all Y/n’s fault.

He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He was caught in a trance, a deep desire bubbling up, leaving him no choice but to close the distance between them. His lips crashed against hers, a sudden, urgent kiss that left no room for words.

The shock was mutual, taking them both by surprise. Kaiser, usually so in control, found himself caught in the rush of emotions he had never expected. And Y/n—she couldn’t process it at first. But that hesitation lasted mere seconds.

Without missing a beat, she responded, mirroring the intensity he had brought to her. Their lips moved together, desperate and passionate, as if they had been waiting for this moment all along.

Kaiser's lips claimed Y/n's with a fervor that was both tender and dominating, their mouths aligning in a rhythm as natural and inevitable as the tides. Each passing second saw their kiss deepen, growing more intimate, more passionate, more consuming. It was as if their lips had been sculpted by the gods themselves, destined to fit only against each other.

Kaiser's strong hand gripped Y/n's chin, holding her fast as he plundered her mouth with increasing aggression. She gasped, a shocked murmur escaping her, and he seized the opportunity to delve inside, his tongue invading and conquering. It twined around hers, dominating, possessing, staking his claim.

A breathy, needful groan spilled from Y/n's lips, a sound of surrender and submission. Kaiser felt a surge of male pride, a dark satisfaction at reducing this proud woman to such a state with naught but a kiss. She was his, utterly his, and he reveled in his power over her.

His grip tightened, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her jaw as he angled her head to deepen the kiss yet further. He would have her, all of her. He would lay siege to her every defense until she yielded completely. And he would enjoy every moment of conquering her, body and soul

Kaiser's earlier anger had dissipated like the morning mist under the scorching sun, leaving no trace behind. All that remained was a burning desire, a hunger to unravel the woman in his arms, to make her unravel for him. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, trapping her soft, pliant body against the hard planes of his own. She was a delicate doll, a plaything for him to manipulate and enjoy as he saw fit. His doll, his prize, his possession. And he would guard his treasure jealously.

He broke the kiss, only to catch his breath for the briefest of moments before his mouth was back on hers, claiming, conquering, consuming. She was a woman possessed, lost in the haze of sensation, unable to break away from the addictive pull of his lips. Her hum of acquiescence, trapped between their joined mouths, only spurred him on further.

"Your enjoying this aren't you?" Kaiser murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble. He didn't wait for a response, his lips latching onto hers once more as if to swallow any protest. She was addicted, he could feel it, could taste it on the sweetness of her breath. And like any addict, she would crave more, would need more. He would make certain of it.

Kaiser's palm skimmed over the curve of Y/n's hip, squeezing and caressing, igniting sparks beneath her skin. Each pass of his hand stoked the flames of his desire, the kiss growing ever more fervent, ever more consuming. He reveled in her surrender, in the way she melted so sweetly against him, a puppet dancing on his strings.

But it was more than her submission that ignited the beast within him. It was the raw, primal satisfaction of seeing his actions, his touch, his very presence eliciting such a response. She was a canvas, and he was the artist, painting her reactions with every brushstroke of his desire.

Her need to continue the kiss, to lose herself in his embrace, only fueled his own burning hunger. He could feel it, the pull, the ache, the desperation. She craved him, yearned for him, and he would feed that hunger, that yearning, that desperation. He would be her addiction, her poison, her reason for breath.

Kaiser broke the kiss abruptly, leaving her lips hovering, searching, aching for his touch. Her eyes, hazy with desire, sought his own, a plea swirling in their depths. She tried to close the scant distance between them, to recapture his lips, but he pulled back, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Confusion clouded her gaze, warring with the need, the want, the undeniable desire. He had her on the cusp, teetering on the edge of something terrifying and thrilling. She was his puppet, and he held the strings, ready to dance her to his tune

Y/n stared at Kaiser, his name falling from her lips in a breathless question. As her gaze met his, she felt the weight of his desire, hot and heavy, pressing down upon her like a physical touch. She felt laid bare, stripped of all defenses, as exposed as if she stood naked before him. His eyes blazed with a madness, a hunger that made her heart stutter in her chest.

"Kaiser," she breathed, a flicker of uncertainty in her tone. But before she could voice any protest, he was already moving, his large hand engulfing her own, pulling her towards his waiting vehicle.

She stumbled slightly, caught off guard by his urgency, his insistence. But he didn't give her time to compose herself, to steel her nerves. No, he was already ushering her into the passenger seat, the cool leather of the car interior a shock against her flushed skin.

The door slammed shut with a resounding finality, sealing them both inside the confines of the luxurious vehicle. Kaiser slid into the driver's seat, his presence commanding, dominating the space. She could feel the tension radiating off him, the coiled energy, the barely restrained desire.

He didn't say a word, didn't bother with pleasantries or explanations. He simply engaged the ignition, the engine roaring to life with a throaty purr. And then they were moving, the car surging forward with a burst of speed that pressed Y/n back against her seat.

She had no idea where he was taking her, no concept of their destination. But it mattered not. All that consumed her thoughts, all that mattered, was the promise of what was to come. The completion of what they had begun.

The car pulled to a halt, and before she could blink, Kaiser was there, opening her door, his hand outstretched to assist her exit. She stepped out into the cool night air, her heels clicking against the pavement as she gazed up at the imposing structure before them.

It was a house, a grand and opulent affair that spoke of wealth and privilege. Of course, it made sense. Kaiser was a man of means, a famous athlete who had amassed a fortune through his talents and dedication. And now, he was inviting her into his inner sanctum, his private domain.

He led her towards the imposing front door, his hand a brand at the small of her back

Y/n found herself powerless to resist as Kaiser's iron grip tightened around her waist, propelling her forward into the cavernous entrance of his estate. The door slammed shut behind them with a resounding bang, sealing them off from the world outside, leaving them alone in the charged atmosphere that crackled between them.

Before she could catch her breath, Kaiser had her pinned against the door, his hard, muscular body caging her in, his lips claiming hers in a searing, urgent kiss. A startled gasp escaped her, only to be swallowed by Kaiser's hungry mouth as it moved demandingly against her own.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him, anchoring herself against the onslaught of sensation. Her lips, as if possessed of a will of their own, softened and yielded to his, falling into a rhythm that matched his own. She met him kiss for kiss, desire for desire, her body melting bonelessly against the hard planes of his own.

Kaiser's calloused hands, rough and textured from years of gripping balls and battling opponents, skimmed over the soft, sensitive skin of her waist. They fit her curves as if she had been sculpted to his touch, his hands a perfect mold for her body. His fingers tightened, squeezing the soft flesh, marking her as his own.

"Kaiser..." His name left her lips in a breathless whisper, a sound of surrender and need. The way it echoed in the grand foyer, a testament to her submission, sent a shiver down Kaiser's spine. This woman, this exquisite creature, was undone by his touch, his kiss, his very presence. And he reveled in the power of it, the heady rush of knowing he could bring such a strong woman to her knees with a mere touch.

He plunged his tongue past the seam of her lips, delving deep, conquering, claiming, possessing. She tasted of honey and sin, and he couldn't get enough. He wanted to drown in her, to lose himself in the sweet oblivion of her mouth, of her body.

The need that surged through him at the sound of her breathless whisper, the way it made his skin prickle and his blood burn, was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. She was doing this to him, unraveling him, just as he was unraveling her.

Kaiser felt the weight of her whispered plea, the way it settled heavily in his chest, igniting a primal urge within him. The sound of his name on her lips, the desperation in her tone, stirred something dark and possessive deep inside him. In that moment, his sole desire was to see her bow down before him, to make her submit completely to his will. He wanted her to remember only one name, only one identity: Michael Kaiser. He wanted to be her god, her master, her everything.

A smirk tugged at his lips, felt rather than seen, as a low, sensual chuckle slipped between their joined mouths. "Let's take it further," he murmured, his voice a rumble of promise and dark intent. "Yeah?" It was a command more than a question, a decree that brooked no argument.

His hands slid from her waist to the backs of her thighs, squeezing the firm, toned flesh. In a fluid, effortless motion, he lifted her, silently demanding her cooperation, her obedience. And to his satisfaction, she complied without hesitation, without a moment's doubt.

Her legs wrapped around his waist. Kaiser groaned into the kiss, the feeling of her body pressed so intimately against his own stoking the flames of his desire to new heights. He could feel her heartbeat pulsing against his chest, could feel the heat of her core pressing insistently against his abdomen.

Blindly, his eyes still locked with hers, Kaiser carried her through the darkened halls of his estate. He didn't need to see where he was going, trusting his memory, his instincts, to guide them to their destination. The bedroom loomed before them, a spacious and opulent affair, the grand four-poster bed dominating the center of the room.

He carried her to the edge of the bed, his lips never breaking the heated kiss, his tongue still plundering the sweet recesses of her mouth. Only when the backs of her knees hit the mattress did he reluctantly withdraw, his breath harsh and ragged as he gazed down at her with a look of pure, unadulterated hunger.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a low, possessive rumble.

Kaiser loomed over Y/n, his powerful frame pinning her delicate one to the luxurious bed. His hands roamed her curves with a boldness born of desire and possession, mapping out the terrain of her body as if he were a conqueror claiming new land. She was utterly at his mercy, trapped beneath him, a willing captive to his touch.

Soft, breathy moans spilled from her lips, a symphony of pleasure that sang to his ego, stroking his pride. Each touch, each caress, sent her spiraling further into a world of sensation, craving more, needing more. He could feel it, the way her body responded to his, the way it yearned for his touch like a flower turning towards the sun. She was his, utterly and completely, and he reveled in the knowledge.

A growl of pure male satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he hooked his fingers under the hem of her shirt. Slowly, deliberately, he began to lift it, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of the smooth, silky skin beneath. She didn't protest, didn't try to stop him. No, she wanted this as much as he did, her body singing with the same desperate need that consumed him.

He didn't bother asking permission, knowing it was unnecessary. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way she arched into his touch. She was his, and he would take what was his.

With a swift, decisive motion, he whipped her shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of her, his gaze raking over her half-naked form with a hunger that bordered on reverent.

There she lay, a vision of feminine perfection, her ample breasts encased in the delicate lace of her bra. A bra that, like everything else about her, seemed to have been made just for him. He could not look away, could not tear his gaze from the exquisite beauty before him.

She was a woman he had grown accustomed to, a woman who understood him like no other. A woman who had become his everything, his reason, his obsession. She was his dog, his plaything, his treasure. And he would enjoy every single moment of possessing her, of owning her, of claiming her as his own

Kaiser's hands found their destined home as he deftly unfastened the hook of Y/n's bra, the last flimsy barrier between them falling away. With a sense of purpose, he peeled the delicate lace away, revealing the glorious expanse of her breasts to his hungry gaze.

He stood there, admiring her, drinking in the breathtaking sight of her upper body laid bare before him. Her breasts were perfect, full and ripe, begging to be touched, to be worshipped. And touch them he did, his large hands finding their way to cup the soft, pliant flesh, his fingers sinking into the giving softness.

"Y/n..." he murmured, his voice rough with desire and awe, "you're fucking beautiful." His eyes raked over her body, taking in every dip and curve, committing every inch to memory. She was a work of art, a goddess, a vision of pure feminine perfection.

Unable to resist, he brushed his thumb over the peak of her nipple, watching as it puckered and tightened at his touch. A breathy, needful grunt spilled from Y/n's lips, a sound that went straight to his groin, stoking the flames of his desire.

Kaiser grinned, a fierce, possessive grin of pure male satisfaction. He had power over her, absolute control, and he reveled in it. He could make her feel, make her react, make her crave. And he loved every single second of it.

His lips crashed against hers once more, his kiss aggressive, demanding, conquering. His tongue delved into her mouth, sliding against hers, stroking, tasting, claiming. He drank down her moans, her whimpers, her cries of pleasure, each one fueling the inferno that raged within him.

As he plundered her mouth, his thumb continued its assault on her sensitive nipple, rolling and pinching, tugging and teasing. Her body bowed off the bed, arching into his touch, silently begging for more. And more he would give her, more he would take from her. He would have her begging, pleading, screaming his name until it was the only word she knew, the only prayer on her lips.

Kaiser's hand blazed a trail of fire down Y/n's torso, his calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. The heat of his touch contrasted deliciously with the cool air of the room, sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine. She arched into his caress, a breathy moan escaping her lips at the exquisite sensation.

His hand found the waistband of her pants, and with a decisive tug, he gripped the fabric, his intent clear. But before he could act on it, his mouth tore away from hers, leaving her lips feeling suddenly bereft and cold. A needful whimper escaped her at the loss, her body aching for his touch, his warmth.

But that whimper quickly turned into a loud, wanton moan as Kaiser's lips found the sensitive skin of her neck. He nipped and sucked at the delicate flesh, leaving a trail of marks, of bruises, of brands. He was claiming her, marking her, making her his in the most primal way possible.

His mouth trailed lower, over the swell of her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts. And then, without warning or hesitation, he took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before he began to suck.

A sharp cry tore from Y/n's throat, her back bowing off the bed as pleasure exploded through her. Instinctively, she clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle the shameless sounds of her desire. But that action only served to anger Kaiser, to spark a fierce surge of irritation within him.

His mouth released her nipple with a lewd pop, the sound echoing obscenely in the charged air of the room. His eyes flashed with a dangerous light as he glared down at her, his tone shifting from seductive to harsh in an instant.

"Who told you to cover your fucking mouth, huh?" he growled, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "You think you're being loud? I'll make you even fucking louder." His smirk returned, wider and more wicked than before, a promise of pleasure bordering on pain. He meant every word, and she would feel the weight of his intent in every kiss, every touch, every breathless cry that tore from her throat.

Kaiser's hand shifted, his fingers finding the button of Y/n's pants with unerring accuracy. With a deft flick of his wrist, he unbuttoned the fabric, the sound of the release echoing in the charged air. Without hesitation, without giving her a moment to catch her breath, he tore the pants down her legs, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

And there she lay, a debauched vision in the dim light of the room, clad in only her soaked panties. The damp stain was unmistakable, a testament to her arousal, her desire, her desperate need. Kaiser felt a fierce surge of pride, of possessiveness, knowing that he was the sole reason for her current state. He had done this to her, had brought her to this point of desperation, and he would revel in every moment of it.

His eyes raked over her body, taking in every inch of exposed skin, lingering on the damp patch that darkened her panties. They were wild, crazed with a lust that bordered on madness. In the dimness of the room, Y/n could see the aura of desire swirling in their depths, could feel the weight of his gaze boring into her very soul.

"Already wet, huh?" he growled, his voice a low, rough rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "And you weren't even fully naked." His finger hooked into the band of her panties, the flimsy fabric stretching taut against her skin.

Slowly, torturously, he began to pull them down, the action agonizing in its deliberate slowness. He was teasing her, keeping her waiting, denying her the pleasure she so desperately craved. His eyes never left hers, watching as her body squirmed beneath his touch, watching as she fought the urge to beg, to plead, to demand.

The sheets crumpled beneath Y/n's gripping fingers, the fabric twisting and bunching as she clung to them in desperation. Her hips lifted off the bed, seeking more of his touch, craving the relief only he could give her.

"Kaiser..." she whined, her voice high and breathless, a sound of pure, unadulterated need. "Don't tease me like that. Just...fuck, hurry up." It was a plea, a desperate, wanton plea for him to take her.

Kaiser's lips curled into a wicked smirk at Y/n's desperate plea, a sound of pure, unadulterated need. He chuckled, a low, dark sound that rumbled through his chest, as he continued his tortuous descent, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric of her panties.

"Teasing?" he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, "I'm just getting you ready for what's to come." With a final, sharp tug, he peeled the soaked fabric down her thighs, the cool air kissing her overheated skin as he exposed her fully to his hungry gaze.

Y/n shivered, her body instinctively trying to close, to hide, to protect her most intimate place. But Kaiser was having none of it. His hand clamped around her knee, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he forced her legs apart, baring her glistening sex to his appreciative eyes.

"Don't you dare," he growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "You're not allowed to hide from me, Y/n. Not now, not ever." His gaze raked over her dripping folds, taking in the sight of her arousal, the proof of her desire. He could barely contain himself, barely restrain the primal urge to bury himself inside her heat and claim her, ruin her, make her his.

Unable to resist any longer, he traced a teasing finger over her clit, circling the sensitive nub, feeling it throb and pulse beneath his touch. Y/n squirmed beneath him, her hips lifting, seeking more, craving more. She was at his mercy, completely under his control, a puppet dancing on the strings of his desire.

A throaty grunt escaped Kaiser's lips as he felt her wetness coat his finger, her body welcoming him, inviting him inside. Without warning, he plunged his finger deep into her tight, clutching heat, a loud, wanton moan tearing from Y/n's throat as she arched beneath him.

"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of not taking her right then and there. "You're so fucking tight. So fucking perfect." He pumped his finger in and out of her, feeling her walls flutter and clench around the invading digit, her body instinctively trying to draw him deeper, to keep him inside her.

Kaiser's fingers continued their relentless assault on Y/n's dripping core, plunging in and out of her tight, clasping heat. The obscene sound of his digits pumping through her slick arousal filled the room, a lewd symphony of their coupling. He could feel her velvety walls gripping him, fluttering, clenching, as if trying to keep him inside her.

"So fucking tight," he breathed out, his voice rough with desire and appreciation. Unable to resist the urge to feel more of her, he forced a second finger into her tight channel, stretching her, filling her, claiming her. His long, skilled fingers reached that sweet spot deep inside her, the one that made her see stars, that made her cry out in ecstasy.

Y/n's moans filled the air, a beautiful, erotic melody that sang to Kaiser's soul. Each pleasured sound she made, each whimper and mewl, only spurred him on, making him want to wring more from her, to make her scream his name until it was the only word she knew.

"Fuck-Kaiser you're still clothed —" Y/n managed to gasp out between the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her voice was high, breathless, a sound of frustration and longing.

Kaiser paused, his fingers still buried deep inside her, as his gaze flicked over his own body. She was right, of course. While she lay bare and exposed beneath him, he was still clothed, still covered in the layers of fabric that separated his skin from hers.

A small, mocking laugh left his lips as he met her gaze, his eyes glinting with amusement and dark promise. "You want to see me naked too, hmm?" he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Consider it a reward for being so good."

Kaiser's hands gripped the hem of his undershirt and jersey, the fabric stretching taut against his broad shoulders. With a swift, decisive movement, he peeled them both off in one go, tossing them carelessly to the floor. His chest was a work of art, each muscle sculpted and defined, the hard planes and ridges a testament to years of discipline and training. In the dim light of the room, Y/n could see every contour, every line, the way his skin seemed to glow as if illuminated by an otherworldly source.

Next, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and socks, shimmying them down his powerful legs with an ease that spoke of long practice. His cleats were already discarded, left forgotten by the door, and now the rest of his lower half was bared to Y/n's hungry gaze.

Y/n's eyes raked over his body, taking in every inch of exposed skin, every toned muscle that rippled beneath the surface. He looked ethereal, a god made flesh, a king sitting upon his throne. She could hardly believe that such a perfect specimen of manhood existed outside of myth and legend.

Her gaze traveled down, over the defined lines of his abdomen, the V-lines that disappeared teasingly into the waistband of his boxers. The only fabric left, the last barrier between her and his complete nudity. She could see the bulge of his arousal straining against the confines of his underwear, could feel the heat of his desire radiating off him in waves.

Y/n’s eyes widened, her mouth hanging at the sight of him, at the promise of what was to come. She ached to touch him, to run her hands over his skin, to feel the power coiled in his muscles. She wanted to worship him, to make him feel as good as he made her feel.

But more than that, she needed him. Needed to feel his skin against hers, needed to be filled, claimed, owned by him completely. She was already naked, already bared to him in every way possible. It wasn't fair that he still had one last scrap of clothing separating them.

Kaiser chuckled, a low, rich sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against Y/n's skin. He reveled in the effect he had on her, the way her eyes widened and darkened with desire as they roamed over his naked form. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he could reduce her to this state, could make her crave him with such desperate intensity.

"C'mon, don't tell me you're nervous now?" he teased, his body crawling over hers, his hands coming to rest on her thighs. He held himself up, his muscular arms flexing with the effort, as he gazed down at her with a wicked, mocking grin.

His palms began to rub up and down her thighs, the rough skin of his hands a delicious contrast to the smoothness of her own. Y/n bit back a whimper as he intentional brushed over her sensitive clit, the fleeting touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine.

"Nervous? You're funny," she scoffed, trying to maintain some semblance of control even as her body betrayed her true feelings. Kaiser raised an eyebrow at her bravado, a smirk playing about his lips.

"In a situation like this, it's not very smart to talk back," he murmured, his voice a low, warning rumble. But Y/n could see the glint of amusement in his eyes, could tell that he enjoyed the back-and-forth, the challenge.

She glared up at him, her chin set at a defiant angle even as her heart raced in her chest. As much as she tried to deny it, Y/n couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at being at the mercy of this powerful, dominant man. The power dynamic between them thrilled her in a way she had never experienced before.

"Let's continue, yeah?" Kaiser murmured, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing promise of a kiss. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat, her body arching up towards him, seeking more of his touch, more of his heat.

She knew she should be nervous, should be intimidated by the raw power and hunger she saw in his eyes. But instead, she felt a corresponding surge of desire, a need to meet his passion with her own. She wanted to see how far they could push each other, wanted to explore the depths of pleasure and ecstasy.

Y/n let out a small grunt, her body trembling with anticipation and need as Kaiser's hands continued their sensual exploration of her curves. The kiss deepened, adding fuel to the fire that raged within her, stoking the flames of her desire until she felt they might consume her entirely.

She could feel the knot forming in her lower belly, the ache of emptiness that could only be filled by one thing. By him. By Kaiser. She needed him inside her, needed to feel his hard length stretching her, claiming her, completing her.

"Kaiser..." she breathed out, the name falling from her lips like a prayer, a plea. She was drowning in sensation, in the heat and hardness of his body pressing against her own, and she needed an anchor, needed something to tether her to reality.

Kaiser broke the kiss, his eyes dark and hungry as he leaned back. His hands fiddled with the waistband of his boxers, and Y/n eagerly sat up, wanting to see, needing to witness the final reveal. She had to know, had to see all of him, had to drink in the sight of Kaiser in all his naked glory.

"Eager are we?" he lowly chuckled, a smirk playing about his lips as he slowly, teasingly, began to tug down his underwear. Inch by torturous inch, he revealed the base of his cock, and Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs.

She gulped as more of his impressive length was revealed, the thick veins and ridges clearly visible, the hard flesh throbbing with his arousal. He was so big, so much bigger than she had imagined, and the sight of him made her mouth water and her core clench with need.

Kaiser kicked his boxers away, tossing them carelessly to the floor. And then he was climbing over her, his naked body covering her own, his hard length pressing against her lower belly. She could feel the heat of him, the weight and power of him, and it made her feel small and feminine and desperately, achingly empty.

"You want this just as bad as I do, right?" Kaiser asked, his voice a low, rough murmur. His hand rested on the dip of her hip, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh possessively.

"Yes... I want it just as bad," Y/n confirmed, her voice breathless and high with need.

Y/n let out a guttural moan as Kaiser's thick, hard length speared into her, filling her in one powerful thrust. Her back arched off the bed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she was stretched and filled and claimed completely. The suddenness of it stole her breath, left her gasping and panting, her lungs burning for air.

"Oh god, Kaiser!" she cried out, her voice a mix of surprise, pleasure and need. She could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing inch of him pulsing inside her, stretching her walls to their limit. It was almost too much, almost painfully intense, but she never wanted it to end.

Kaiser groaned, a deep, low sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against Y/n's skin. He threw his head back, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on his face as he savored the feel of Y/n's tight, wet heat enveloping his aching cock. Her walls gripped him like a vice, fluttering and clenching around his shaft, as if trying to draw him even deeper.

He gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. It grounded him, anchored him, kept him from losing himself completely in the overwhelming pleasure of finally being inside her.

"Ready, Y/n?" Kaiser asked, his voice a low, rough rasp. He tilted his head down to meet her gaze, a wicked smirk playing about his lips as he took in the sight of her flushed cheeks, the sweat drops dotting her forehead, the red hue spreading across her skin.

Y/n could only nod, too lost in sensation to form words. But Kaiser wanted more, wanted to hear her say it, to give voice to her desire.

"I told you I needed words, didn't I?" he huffed, his tone a mix of teasing and demand. His lips moved to the side of Y/n's neck, his warm breath ghosting over her skin, making her shiver and tremble beneath him.

"Yes Kaiser," Y/n breathed out, her voice a needful whimper. "Yes, I'm ready. Please, please..." She didn't even know what she was begging for, only that she needed more. More of him, more of this, more of everything.

Kaiser grinned down at Y/n, his eyes glinting with a mix of triumph and dark promise. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing rasp. "I'll have you bowing down to me soon enough, like the needy little peasant you are, Y/n."

He rocked his hips back, his hard length sliding out of her dripping sex until only the tip remained nestled inside. Y/n whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her walls clenching around the head of his cock, trying to keep him inside. But Kaiser was having none of that. With a sharp grin, he slammed back into her, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

Y/n cried out loud moans, the sound tearing from her throat as pleasure bordered on pain. Tears sprang to her eyes, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming her. Kaiser groaned, a low, guttural sound that spoke of his own pleasure and need. Her walls were so tight, gripping him like a velvet vise, the wet heat of her sex coating his shaft, making the glide easier even as it clenched and fluttered around him.

He set a brutal pace, pounding into her with deep, powerful strokes. The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, with Y/n's needful cries and Kaiser's harsh grunts and groans. He was taking her hard, claiming her, marking her, staking his ownership of her body and soul.

"Fuck, Y/n," Kaiser growled, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. "You feel fucking incredible. So fucking tight and wet and perfect."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his voice a low, dark murmur. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. No one else will ever make you feel this good, will ever fuck you like I can. You're mine now, Y/n. My perfect little toy to use as I please."

Kaiser punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, grinding his hips against hers, his pelvis pressing against her sensitive clit. Y/n keened, a high, breathless sound of pure pleasure, her body arching up to meet his.

Kaiser growled in feral satisfaction as Y/n wrapped her legs around him, giving him an even deeper, clearer angle to plunge into her. His hips snapped forward with renewed vigor, each powerful thrust striking that perfect spot deep inside her that made stars explode behind her eyelids.

"Fuck, Y/n!" Kaiser groaned, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "Scream for me, let me hear how good it feels. Fucking scream my name!"

His movements grew more intense, more demanding, the force of his thrusts shaking the bed beneath them. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their escalating moans and cries. Kaiser was relentless, pounding into Y/n with a single-minded focus on her pleasure and his own.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Kaiser grunted, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips, no doubt leaving vivid bruises in their wake. "Your cunt is gripping my cock like it never wants to let me go. Fuck, I can feel you throbbing around me, begging for more."

He leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, his teeth sinking into the tender skin. "That's it, take it all like a good little slut. Take every fucking inch of my cock. This is what you were made for, Y/n. To be a warm, wet hole for me to use as I please."

Kaiser punctuated his filthy words with a sharp, brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis against Y/n's clit, the rough friction sending bolts of electricity zinging up her spine. Y/n could only scream, could only let the pleasure consume her as Kaiser fucked her with wild abandon, chasing their mutual release with single-minded intensity.

Y/n's nails raked down Kaiser's back, leaving red lines of pleasure-pain in their wake. She couldn't help but claw at him, needed an anchor, something to ground her as the intense sensations threatened to sweep her away. It felt too good, too overwhelming, too much like drowning in a sea of ecstasy.

Tears streamed down her face, pouring from her eyes as her body trembled and quaked beneath Kaiser's relentless assault. She could feel the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter, the knot of pleasure growing bigger, more insistent with each passing second.

"Kaiser... I'm close," Y/n managed to whimper out between ragged breaths and broken moans. Her voice was high, thready, a needful keen that spoke of her impending release.

Kaiser could only nod, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes dark and wild as he gazed down at Y/n. He was close too, teetering on the edge of his own climax, the pleasure gripping him like a vice. But he pushed through it, determined to bring Y/n to the heights of bliss before seeking his own.

"Almost there," Kaiser grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy, his rhythm faltering as he chased their shared release. He was enjoying this, reveling in the way Y/n's body squeezed and fluttered around him, the way her cries of pleasure filled the air.

A few more deep, powerful thrusts, and then Y/n was coming undone. Her head tipped back, her eyes rolling up in sheer bliss, her body convulsing beneath Kaiser as her orgasm crashed over her. Her fluids gushed out around his pistoning cock, coating him, dripping down onto the sheets.

Kaiser couldn't hold back any longer. With a hoarse cry of Y/n's name, he pulled out just as his own climax hit him like a freight train. His seed erupted from his cock, painting Y/n's lower abdomen with thick, hot ropes of his release. He shuddered and groaned, his body jerking with the force of his intense orgasm.

Heavy breaths lingered in the still air, the only sound that filled the space between them. Both of them were still catching their breath, their bodies spent from the intensity of what had just transpired. The silence was almost deafening, yet neither of them seemed to want to break it.

Kaiser finally collapsed onto the side of the bed, his body sinking into the soft sheets with a low exhale. "Fuck..." he muttered, his voice strained, and his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

Y/n remained still, her own chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, her thoughts swirling as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind that had just unfolded. It had happened so quickly, so intensely, that she felt as though she couldn’t fully grasp the reality of it. She hadn’t expected to feel this... overwhelmed.

Her gaze drifted to him. Kaiser’s bare chest heaved up and down, glistening slightly in the dim light of the room, his usual arrogance softened for the moment. There was something about the vulnerability in his expression now, the way his sharp features seemed more relaxed, that struck her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She hadn’t expected to see this side of him, especially not after everything they had shared.

Slowly, she turned her head, her eyes locking with his. His blue gaze met hers, intense and burning with a quiet intensity that made her heart flutter unexpectedly. There was a flicker of something deeper in those eyes—something she hadn’t seen before. He smirked then, though it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. It was different, softer. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Y/n,” he teased, his voice low and husky.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t look away from him. The way the light caught his face, the way his features softened in the aftermath of their connection—it made her breath catch in her throat. Kaiser, with all his arrogance and power, looked... beautiful in that moment. Vulnerable, almost raw. She hadn’t expected to see him this way, and yet it pulled something in her that she couldn’t deny.

There was something about the way he lay there, his body still warm and flushed, his chest rising and falling in time with hers. The silence between them was heavy, charged, and it made her feel like she was caught between two worlds—one where she was just the journalist trying to uncover the truth, and the other where the truth had just shifted in ways she didn’t fully understand.

Kaiser, too, felt it. His heart thudded in his chest, though it wasn’t out of anger or frustration this time. No, this felt... different. Her presence, her eyes on him, it was like nothing he’d ever experienced. A quiet ache settled in his chest, but it wasn’t a painful one. It was almost as if his heart was beating in rhythm with hers, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt something so... real.

Kaiser couldn’t afford to lose focus now. His goal was clear, his mind set. He was going to make Y/n break before him, piece by piece. Like shards of glass, he would walk over her, feeling the satisfying crunch of her resolve shattering under his weight. She had become a challenge, a puzzle he had every intention of solving in his own twisted way.

He needed to see her bow to him, to crumble under the weight of his control. She had become nothing more than a pawn in his game—an object he could manipulate at will, a doll to be twisted and molded. But all dolls, no matter how beautiful, eventually lost their shine. They aged, wore down, and lost the spark that made them desirable. And like any owner of such a toy, he would discard her when she no longer served a purpose. He would use her—hold her close, make her his submissive, obedient lover. He would keep her under his thumb until there was nothing left of her but a hollow shell of the woman she once was.

That was his goal. And it was all that mattered right now. But as he watched her, there was something nagging at him—a strange pull he couldn’t ignore. Something flickered in the depths of his chest, unsettling him for a brief moment. But he pushed it down quickly. No distractions.

What about Y/n? What was *her* goal?

Y/n’s goal was far different. She hadn’t forgotten what had brought her here—what had driven her to this point. The truth. The elusive truth that seemed buried beneath his walls. She would get it. No matter what it took, she would uncover the man behind the mask. Even if it meant breaking him. Even if it meant pushing him to the very edge of himself.

She couldn’t let herself falter. She had promised herself she would get the truth, no matter the cost. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth it.

However, deep down, she understood that it might be more complicated than she had first imagined. Kaiser was unpredictable, dangerous, and far more manipulative than she had given him credit for. But she had to try. She had to push forward. Even if she was playing with fire, even if it burned her in the process. It was the only way she would ever get to the heart of who Kaiser really was.

And as their paths collided, both of them were on the edge of something neither was fully prepared for.

Who knows, she might just get lucky.

She had already gathered enough intel—enough pieces of Kaiser's carefully constructed persona to build a story. More than enough to expose him, to rip the mask off and unveil the ruthless, complicated man he really was. A paper revealing his true nature would make waves—she was certain of that. Every word, every detail she had gathered felt like a potential key to unlock the final truths he was so desperate to hide.

But that night, that moment of intimacy, what did it really mean? Did the sex they shared mean nothing in the grand scheme of things? Were they just swept away in the heat of the moment? Maybe it was just an impulse for both of them. Or maybe, it was something more—but right now, neither of them cared enough to dwell on it.

It wasn’t on the top of their priorities. Not now.

For Kaiser, the goal was simple: to mold her into another loyal, subservient piece in his world. A filthy dog, obedient and at his beck and call. He wanted to control her, twist her into something he could possess—just like he had done with so many before her. He was used to having people bow to him, obey him, and now, Y/n was no different. The power struggle had only just begun.

But for Y/n, her focus was fixed elsewhere. She wasn’t concerned with the intricacies of his twisted games or his domineering desires. She cared only about one thing—getting the truth. The real man beneath the arrogance, the lies, the carefully constructed walls. The truth that had always been just out of reach. She wasn’t afraid to push him, to break through those defenses. She would squeeze the truth out of him, no matter how much she had to endure. That was the prize she sought, the only thing that mattered in this dangerous dance they were caught in.

Both of them had their objectives. And neither of them would stop until they achieved them.

༻♔༺

The grip around his phone tightened as a searing sense of disbelief coursed through him. How? How had this happened? How had she—*she*—managed to slip from his grasp, just when he thought he had her fully under control?

That night... it should have been the turning point, the moment he solidified his hold over her. Didn't she already prove her loyalty to him? Didn’t she beg for more, didn’t she give in to him in a way that made her his, body and soul? Hadn't he already made her submit, wrapping her around his finger like it was nothing?

So what had changed? What had shifted in that brief moment, in the aftermath of all that power he had over her?

Kaiser’s heart dropped in his chest. His eyes burned as they scanned the article before him. Reading those words felt like a punch to the gut, a reminder of everything he had fought so hard to bury. The words weren’t just an attack—they were a mirror, showing him the parts of himself he’d rather stay hidden. The article, no doubt penned by her, exposed everything: his drive for perfection, the way he had always lived in the shadow of his father’s expectations, the years of feeling like second-best in his own home.

His teeth clenched so tightly it hurt. He wasn’t just angry—he was furious. But it wasn’t only anger that churned in his stomach. There was a gnawing anxiety, a sickening feeling that perhaps he hadn’t been as in control as he thought. The walls he had so carefully constructed were beginning to crumble, and there was no one to blame but himself.

He glanced back down at his phone, his eyes scanning the title again, as though hoping he had misread it. But no. The words were still there, mocking him. *"THE TRUTH ABOUT THE FAMOUS MICHAEL KAISER HAS BEEN REVEALED!?"*

The question mark seemed to echo in his mind. How could she have done this? How had she pulled it off?

His world, carefully crafted and meticulously managed, was unraveling. And Y/n was the one holding the thread.

How had she gotten her hands on this? The question drilled into Kaiser’s mind as he racked his brain, trying to piece together the only possible answers. The only time he had opened up, the only time he had let his guard down—was that night on the football pitch.

That night, when everything had slipped from his grasp.

He had confided in her, exposed pieces of himself that he kept hidden from the world. His anger, his frustration, the deep-rooted pain that had been festering for years—he had told her everything.

And now, this? This betrayal? It was too much. His body tensed, muscles straining with fury as his veins popped, bulging out of his forearms and neck, as his grip tightened around his phone.

"Ill fucking kill her," he muttered under his breath, the words dripping with venom.

Ness, who had been nearby, instinctively stepped closer, sensing the shift in Kaiser’s mood. His voice came out in a shaky whisper, filled with concern. "Kaiser? There’s no need... just try to relax. We’ll figure out another solution—"

"Relax?" A dark chuckle rumbled from Kaiser’s throat, a sound that sent a chill down Ness's spine. Kaiser’s head tilted to meet his gaze, the look in his eyes sharp and cold. "Are you out of your mind, Ness?" His voice was thick with menace.

Ness swallowed hard, his throat dry. He knew better than most what happened when Kaiser was pushed too far—he’d seen the chaos, the destruction. Kaiser was a force, and when his anger was unleashed, there was no telling where it would go.

Kaiser scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. Without sparing Ness another glance, he tore his gaze away and stared down at the phone once more, fury burning in his chest. "I’m going to find her," he muttered, his tone deadly quiet.

Ness’s eyes widened, panic rising in his throat. "Kaiser, I don’t think that’s a good idea..." His voice faltered, and he took a half-step back, fear flooding his veins.

"Who are you to tell me, Ness?" Kaiser snapped, his voice rising with barely contained rage. The words shot out of his throat, thick with anger as he glared at the other man.

Ness stood still, his jaw clenched. He knew better than to argue with Kaiser when he was in this state—knew that continuing to push would only escalate the situation. So, he remained silent, his eyes dropping to the floor as he chose not to provoke the storm any further.

Kaiser’s footsteps were the only sound filling the room as he turned and stormed off. The sound of the door slamming behind him made Ness flinch, the sharp noise echoing through the still air.

Kaiser was gone.

And Ness knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn’t be coming back until he got the answers he was looking for.

_______

It took less than thirty minutes for him to find her.

For once, he didn’t have to track her down, didn’t need to follow her every move. She just happened to appear right there, walking down the same pavement he was on. It almost felt like fate had thrown him a bone.

His eyes burned with fury as he locked onto her figure ahead. Every step he took toward her was driven by rage, and as soon as he spotted her, he didn’t hesitate. No pause. No second thoughts. He moved toward her with a single-minded purpose.

“You.” Kaiser’s voice sliced through the tense air, thick with irritation, as his glare locked onto her.

Y/n could feel it—the suffocating heat of his anger, seeping through the space between them like a storm ready to burst. His eyes were hard, his body tense, every fiber of him radiating fury. Yet, she stood her ground, her posture unyielding. This confrontation had been inevitable.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped, his teeth gritting with each word, voice tight with barely contained rage.

“My problem?” Y/n’s lips twitched into an almost dismissive smile. “I’m just doing my job,” she said coolly, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious.

“Your stupid job? You exposed me for what, a paycheck? To get some cheap satisfaction?” Kaiser’s words were now laced with venom, his anger flaring hotter with each second.

Y/n’s expression didn’t flicker. She was already too familiar with his temper, too accustomed to his threats. “Look, Kaiser,” she replied, her voice low but unwavering, “I know all about your little games. I know what kind of man you really are. Hell, I know who you are beneath that shiny mask you wear.”

A flash of something dark flickered in Kaiser’s eyes. His jaw clenched, and he took a step forward, his presence looming. “You don’t know shit about me, Y/n,” he growled, his voice thick with barely-contained rage.

Y/n tilted her head, studying him with an almost clinical detachment. “You’re right. I don’t. And that’s exactly why I only took what you revealed to me.” She met his gaze head-on, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a challenge. “Everything in that article? It came from you.”

Kaiser’s fist clenched at his side, his breath coming in sharp bursts, but she didn’t flinch. She wasn’t afraid of him—at least, not in the way he thought.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles turning white as the surge of anger built within him. "That was only a moment of weakness you found me in," Kaiser muttered, his tone sharp.

"A moment of weakness that revealed things about you," Y/n replied, her voice softer now, almost contemplative.

Her words hit him harder than he cared to admit. She was right, and he hated it. In his moment of vulnerability, he had let down his guard, exposing himself in ways he never should have. How could he have been so stupid, so careless? He cursed himself inwardly. He had been weak, and now she had a foothold. She knew something about him—something raw, something real. And it unsettled him in a way nothing else had before.

But what bothered him even more was how she acted like she had him all figured out. Her calm demeanor, the way she looked at him, like she saw right through him—it drove him mad. She wasn’t close to understanding him, not even remotely. She didn’t know the real him, not the one hidden under the mask.

A small, bitter laugh escaped his lips. It was laced with annoyance, and it made Y/n raise an eyebrow, her gaze scrutinizing him.

"You use my vulnerability for some story, huh?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. "Just how pathetic are you?"

There was a flash of something deeper in his chest—a feeling of betrayal, but he couldn’t fully grasp it. It wasn’t just about the article, not really. No, there was more to it. It was the way she had used him, or so he thought. She had caught him at a weak moment and now she was going to expose it, turning his own pain into her narrative.

Kaiser had always been in control, and now, in this moment, he felt the balance shift. He thought he had her right where he wanted her—on the verge of submission, ready to fall into his trap. But instead, she had found something he didn’t want her to see, something he wasn’t prepared to face.

For the first time, it felt like he was the one on the edge of losing control.

Kaiser stood there, his mind a storm of confusion and anger. His voice, though low, was laced with a tinge of vulnerability as he asked, "Did that night mean something to you?"

Y/n’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. She hadn’t anticipated him bringing this up—now of all times, in the middle of this confrontation. She could feel the tension thickening around them, and yet, she couldn’t avoid the truth. Her heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to find the words.

Did it mean something to her? As much as she hated to admit it... yes, it did. The more she replayed the night in her mind, the clearer it became. It wasn’t just the rivalry, nor was it the way he always seemed to have her figured out. It was everything.

She wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it had grown out of the rivalry that once burned between them, or perhaps it was the way he would always read her so easily, effortlessly. But what mattered now was that she had become attached to him, in a way she hadn’t expected.

That night—when they were in the same bed, the space between them so much more intimate than she had ever imagined—she realized just how much she had been paying attention to him. His every movement, every shift, every detail. She noticed things about him, things she hadn’t before. Small things, subtle things that made her chest tighten with an unfamiliar ache.

And then there was his tattoo.

The tattoo that stood out against his skin like a piece of art carved into his very identity. A blue rose, delicate yet fierce, wrapped in thorns that traced down his arm, curving around to the back of his hand where a crown rested. The crown, like a symbol of his reign over everything around him, contrasted sharply with the softness of the rose.

The sight of it, the way it seemed to represent both his vulnerability and his strength, lingered in her mind. That tattoo—so personal, so telling—was a glimpse into the layers of Kaiser she hadn’t even begun to fully understand. Yet it was there, in plain sight, a quiet reminder of the complexities he hid beneath his cold exterior.

She looked at him now, knowing she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Yes, that night meant something—more than she was willing to admit, even to herself.

Y/n took a deep breath, her eyes locked on his, her words carefully chosen as they left her lips. "Yes, it did," she answered earnestly, her voice steady yet carrying a weight of sincerity. Her gaze never faltered from his, willing him to see the truth in her eyes.

Kaiser's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. It did? He couldn’t fathom it. If she truly felt that way, then why—why—had she exposed him like that? Why had she published that article, revealing everything he’d worked so hard to keep hidden? The confusion in his chest twisted into something darker.

He was about to speak, to demand answers, but Y/n continued, her voice cutting through the tension that had built up between them.

"But it’s not in the way you think, Kaiser."

Her words pierced the air, leaving him on edge. Kaiser stiffened, his body language tense, every fiber of his being urging him to press for more. What did she mean by that?

He couldn’t understand. All this time, he had been convinced that the only reason she was with him, or even had any interest in him, was for the story. He had thought she saw him as nothing more than a subject to uncover, a mystery to be exploited. And yet, here she was, admitting that night had meant something—but not the way he had assumed.

Y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly, but instead of answering, she turned the question back on him. "What about you, Kaiser? Did that night mean anything to you?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his earlier fury simmering beneath the surface, but something about her tone made him hesitate. What was she trying to say?

Kaiser didn't speak; instead, he waited, his expression a mask of impatience mixed with genuine curiosity.

Kaiser’s mind raced, the question hitting him harder than he expected. Did that night mean anything to him? He furrowed his brows, his gaze shifting as if trying to find the words that had evaded him.

He had always prided himself on controlling his emotions, on keeping everything locked down tight. Yet, in that moment, with Y/n's eyes locked onto his, he felt something stirring inside of him—something unfamiliar, something foreign.

The dream, the one where Y/n was just another piece in his game, where she would bow to him, would surrender, was still there. But beneath that, there was something else. A fleeting warmth that he couldn’t quite grasp. Something about that night had been different.

He felt it in the way her gaze softened when she spoke to him, in the way her touch lingered, in the way her presence seemed to affect him more than he cared to admit.

He glanced away briefly, his mind racing, trying to piece together what it was that bothered him. The control, the power he always sought—it was still there, but it was almost overshadowed by... something else. Something he couldn’t quite define.

And that, above all else, frustrated him. Because he didn’t like feeling unsure. He didn't like being caught off guard, especially not by someone like Y/n.

Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, he didn't speak. Instead, he watched her, trying to decipher her expression. What did she want him to say? Did she want him to admit that he felt something more than just the fantasy?

But he couldn’t admit that—not yet, not to her.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, almost guarded. "It meant something... but not the way you think." His words mirrored hers, but there was a tension in his tone that didn’t match the certainty in hers.

It was her turn now to see through him, to decide if she believed him—or if he was lying to himself.

Kaiser’s gaze never left her, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to find some answer in her expression. He couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes caught the dim light, how they seemed to shimmer in the shadows. He noticed the way her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, slightly tousled, as if she hadn’t been paying attention to how she looked at all. Her breath matched his, slow and steady, but there was an underlying tension, a shift between them that was too subtle to ignore.

It frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t put a name to what he felt. It wasn’t like him. He was used to knowing exactly what he wanted, used to controlling every aspect of his life. But her—Y/n—she was the only thing that made him feel off balance, like a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

He had always dismissed her as just another person in his orbit, someone who was part of the game. But now, it was different. He could no longer ignore the small details, the things he had overlooked before—the softness of her gaze, the way she stood, the way she carried herself.

He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. This wasn’t about that. Not yet, anyway.

To answer her question, he still wasn’t sure what he felt, and maybe he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn’t afford to—he needed control, always. So, he deflected. "I don't know. Probably not," he muttered, his voice quieter now, the anger from before beginning to dissipate.

Y/n’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, he saw a glimmer of something—disappointment, maybe. But it was gone before he could fully register it. She nodded, her hands resting at her sides, and let out a soft breath. "That’s expected," she replied, her voice calm, almost detached.

That simple acknowledgment—her acceptance of the situation—stirred something inside him, a flicker of irritation that seemed to rise again. She knew how to push his buttons, how to make him feel small even when she was being neutral.

His frustration came rushing back, the old anger bubbling up inside him. "But that still doesn’t answer why you published that story about me," he snapped, his tone sharp now, his eyes narrowing in challenge.

Her gaze didn’t waver, and he hated that. She wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. She was too composed, too in control. But that only made him want answers more.

Kaiser’s eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense, almost burning with frustration. She wasn’t backing down. She hadn’t given him a single shred of an answer that would satisfy him, and it infuriated him even more. She wasn’t budging, wasn’t cracking under the pressure. She just stood there, unwavering, as if his anger meant nothing.

He let out a frustrated huff, his jaw clenched. She was still sticking to the same tired excuse, and he hated it. “That’s bullshit,” he growled, his fists clenching at his sides.

Y/n sighed, her gaze shifting slightly as if she were trying to stay calm in the midst of his rising fury. She was tired of this back and forth too, but she wouldn’t give in. Not to him.

“Look, Kaiser, if you’re looking for someone to blame, it’s you,” she shot back, her voice steady, but tinged with something sharper now. “You let me in. Whether you meant to or not, you did. The truth isn’t a betrayal—it’s the one thing you’re too scared to face.”

Her words stung, and Kaiser could feel his anger flaring up again, more intense this time. “Like hell it is,” he snapped, his body moving towards her as if he couldn’t contain the boiling fury inside him anymore. His bangs fell over his eyes as he took another step forward, his proximity almost suffocating.

She was calm, too calm, and it grated on him. He wasn’t about to let this slide, not without getting something more out of her. He was done with the charade, the bullshit. “Do you not have decency? I know there’s another reason, so stop bullshitting and just get out with it,” he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Her expression didn’t falter, but something flickered behind her eyes—a flicker of defiance, a spark of something more. But it was fleeting.

The fire inside him flared higher, threatening to consume him whole. He wanted to break her composure, make her reveal something, anything that would give him control again.

But Y/n didn’t let him have that. She wasn’t going to bend to his will.

“I’m not bullshitting anything, Kaiser,” she replied, her voice cold, almost emotionless. The fire she felt inside only made her more resolute. This was the truth, and he would have to accept it. She wasn’t going to let him manipulate her into something else.

Kaiser’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his frustration building, yet something in his gut twisted. He knew she wasn’t going to give him the answer he wanted, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it. The dynamic between them had shifted, and it made him uneasy. He hated that.

But Y/n? She was standing firm, and that made him even angrier.

A sharp, frustrated 'Tch' escaped from Kaiser's lips as he stared at her. He didn't want to admit it, but maybe she was right. Maybe she was just that devoted to her job. It didn’t sit well with him, though. The thought of her treating his vulnerability as nothing more than fuel for a story made him feel a knot twist tighter in his gut.

But he couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge it fully—not yet. Not when his emotions were swirling in a hurricane of rage, regret, and irritation. Betrayal. That was what it felt like. The whole damn thing felt like a betrayal.

He had let her in, he had allowed her to see his cracks. He had been in a state where his mind was raw, open, desperate for some kind of connection, and she had been there. He thought she understood—he thought, for once, that she could see him beyond the walls he’d built. But now, he hated himself for it.

His thoughts raced back to that night. He’d felt weak, vulnerable, and yet there was a strange comfort in her presence. She had been the only one there, the only one who had seen him in his lowest, most unguarded state. But now? Now, all that felt like a mistake. A massive, unforgivable mistake.

His chest tightened as frustration clawed at him, and he clenched his fists at his sides. His anger flared with every beat of his heart. Regret gnawed at him relentlessly. He hadn’t realized how much he had truly relied on her in that moment—how much trust he had placed in her, even for just a fleeting second. It was laughable now. He couldn’t even look at her without feeling the rush of bitterness in his throat.

He scowled, eyes narrowing as he processed everything. The anger in him boiled over, yet there was still something—some nagging feeling—that wouldn’t go away. It was like a foreign sensation, one that felt… different from what he was used to.

"Those fucking annoying feelings," he muttered under his breath. That’s all he could label them for now. Annoying. Uncomfortable. Unwanted.

Kaiser couldn’t admit it yet, not to himself, and certainly not to her. He wasn’t ready to confront whatever the hell this was. He just couldn’t. It was easier to shove it aside, to focus on the anger, on the betrayal, on the hurt.

But deep down, Kaiser knew that feeling wasn’t going away. And that realization, despite the rage clouding his thoughts, only made him more unsettled.

The argument continued, a relentless back-and-forth, neither side willing to bend. Kaiser’s denial clung to him like a shield, a fragile barrier against the truth he wasn’t ready to face. His anger flared, a smoldering fire that refused to die. Y/n, on the other hand, stood firm, unwavering in her stance, her answer never changing, no matter how many times he tried to push her.

They were locked in a battle of wills—Kaiser, consumed by his emotions, and Y/n, resolute in her position, each too proud to give the other the satisfaction of yielding. The silence that followed the last words they exchanged felt heavier than the heated argument itself.

Both of them were left to stand in the aftermath, unsure of what came next. The walls they had built between each other felt thicker, harder to penetrate. What had started as a connection, a mutual understanding—even an unspoken bond—now seemed like a distant memory, drowned by the weight of their words and the tension between them.

Could this broken, fractured relationship survive the collision of their worlds? Was there a way for them to move past the hurt, the betrayal, and the raw emotions that had been exposed? Or had they reached a point where this was the inevitable end?

Kaiser, his mind still buzzing with questions, couldn't help but wonder if anything could ever bridge the gap between them again. Y/n, equally torn, questioned whether it was even worth it to keep fighting for something that seemed to slip further from her grasp with every passing moment.

The future felt uncertain, a blur of unanswered questions and lingering doubt. One thing was clear though—they were both changed by this. Whatever came next, their relationship, whatever form it might take, would never be the same again.

༻♕༺

A rush of exhilaration surged through Kaiser as the ball hit the back of the net, the goal sending a wave of adrenaline flooding his veins. The stadium erupted in cheers, but for him, the applause was distant—almost insignificant compared to the fire burning inside him. This match wasn’t just another game. It had become personal.

Kaiser’s movements were sharp, reckless even. His anger, his frustration, it all came spilling out in the form of brutal tackles, calculated risks, and explosive speed. He was consumed by the thought of her, the way she had exposed him, the way she had dared to challenge him. His focus had shifted from winning to something far more dangerous—domination.

Every strike of the ball was a release, a cathartic outburst. His kick had more power, more intensity than ever before, as if he was channeling all of his unresolved emotions into each play. The world around him blurred. His mind wasn’t on the game—it was on her.

Kaiser had a new goal now, a fresh obsession that had wormed its way into his thoughts. It wasn’t just about proving himself anymore. No, now he wanted more. He wanted her to bow to him—not just in respect, but in submission. He wanted her to plead for forgiveness, to feel the weight of her betrayal in the pit of her stomach.

With every goal, with every play, his frustration intensified. It was as if each victory on the field brought him one step closer to breaking her down, to seeing her on her knees. It was a dangerous game he was playing—both with the ball and with his own emotions. But he couldn’t stop now. Not when he was this close to making her feel what he felt.

The match raged on, but Kaiser’s mind was already several steps ahead, imagining the scene he would create. The ball at his feet felt almost like an extension of his will—a tool to help him gain control, not just of the game, but of everything.

A small sigh of relief escaped Kaiser's lips as the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match. Their team had claimed victory. The tension that had gripped him throughout the game seemed to loosen, though not entirely. His mind still buzzed with restless energy, the anger he’d channeled into his performance lingering beneath the surface. But now, the chaos on the field had settled.

As he made his way off the pitch, he saw her. There she stood, waiting, her presence like a magnet pulling his focus. For a moment, he stopped, his feet frozen, eyes narrowing as they locked onto hers. Despite the boiling frustration and resentment he felt, something else tugged at him—something that gnawed at him, unexpected and unwanted.

A strange mix of longing curled in his chest, subtle but undeniable. It was the same feeling he’d experienced before, the one he hadn’t allowed himself to fully acknowledge. The one he hadn’t been able to label. And now, standing there, it threatened to overpower him. He wanted to look away, to push it down, but he couldn’t. The ache was growing.

Y/n met his gaze, her expression softening, a shadow of sadness clouding her features. There was something in her eyes that spoke volumes—regret, yes, but also a deep, unspoken longing. It mirrored his own. She knew she had crossed a line, and though she tried to justify it with her job, she knew it wasn’t enough. The excuse was weak, even to her.

Kaiser swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pull, the twisting in his gut. He shifted his gaze away, unwilling to meet it any longer. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in this mess again, not now. So instead of walking toward her, he turned, the sound of his footsteps loud in his ears as he made his way to the locker room.

But as he walked, the ache in his chest only deepened. It was a sensation he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. The more he distanced himself from her, the more the weight of it settled in.

༻♔༺

Months had passed, and Y/n found herself once again attending one of Kaiser's matches—this time to cover his triumphant return to form. It had been so long since they'd had a real conversation. The exchanges between them had been reduced to nothing more than fleeting glances, heavy with words unsaid. There had been no resolution, no attempt at understanding. Just silence, stretching between them like an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

As usual, she didn’t expect him to approach her after the game. She had learned not to expect anything from him. So, she improvised. She couldn't keep avoiding him, and she couldn't let it go on like this. There had to be a proper conversation, one where words were exchanged, where truths came out. She just had to talk to him, even if it meant breaking the stillness.

It happened that after the match, he was slated to sign shirts for the fans. Kaiser had initially resisted, unwilling to participate in the post-match rituals, but his managers had insisted, practically forcing him to stay and sign memorabilia. Y/n saw her chance.

She walked up to him, her heart hammering in her chest, trying to steady her breath. His expression was unreadable, his eyes distant. From the outside, he seemed calm, almost detached, as he handed her a signed jersey. But she could see it—the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as if he were holding something back. Inside, he was struggling, as if something inside him was unraveling.

A flicker of regret flashed across Y/n’s face as she began to speak, but before she could gather her thoughts, it seemed as if Kaiser was the one breaking the silence. He spoke first, his voice quieter than she had expected, devoid of anger but filled with an unfamiliar vulnerability.

“To be honest,” he started, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before lifting to meet hers, “you were right about the whole thing… about me not being able to see the truth instead of the betrayal.” His voice softened, the harshness gone. “I thought winning was all I needed. But I realized something... you can't be king of an empty castle.”

His words hit her like a wave, a mix of sorrow and disbelief washing over her. She had spent months trying to ignore the ache of their unresolved tension, but in that moment, everything seemed to shift. Her chest tightened as his admission sunk in, and she found herself unable to look away from him.

Her voice cracked when she finally spoke, softer than she intended. “And I can’t love someone who only knows how to keep people at arm’s length.”

The words felt like a confession, a truth she hadn’t even fully admitted to herself until that moment. It wasn’t just about him anymore—it was about them, the space between them that had grown too wide, too unbridgeable.

Kaiser’s eyes widened, his breath catching as he heard her words. That was it. That was the word he had been searching for, the word that had been dancing around his thoughts for months. Love.

The feelings that had plagued him, the ones he had been dismissing as mere annoyance, suddenly clicked into place. It all made sense now. He was falling in love, something he had spent his life pushing away yet finding, something he had told himself he didn’t need but craved. But now, standing here, with the truth staring him in the face, he realized it was everything he had wanted—and everything he had been too afraid to embrace.

But even in that realization, something else weighed heavily on him. It was too late. The feelings, the words, the truth—none of it could change what had already been lost. Y/n had already made her choice, and there was nothing he could do to take it back.

For a moment, Kaiser stood there, frozen, as the reality of his own heart hit him. It was a bitter, almost hollow feeling. He had spent years building walls around himself, pushing everyone away, thinking that the power, the success, the titles were enough. He thought they could fill the void. But now, looking at Y/n, he realized they never had.

The king, the one who had always sworn to make others bow before him, now found himself bowing his head in defeat. It was a strange, painful irony. He had craved power, respect, adoration—but what he had never expected was that the one thing he truly wanted, the one thing that had eluded him all these years, was the one thing he had pushed away the hardest.

Kaiser felt the weight of his loss, the emptiness that followed the admission he had just made. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The trophies, the fame, the victories—it all seemed insignificant in the face of the one thing he couldn’t have.

He had lost her. And no amount of titles, no number of wins, could ever bring her back.

Y/n, for her part, stood in stunned silence, her heart aching as she saw the pain in his eyes. There was nothing else to say. No words could fix this, not now, not after everything that had happened. They were both standing in the ruins of what could have been, and neither of them knew how to rebuild it.

She took a step back, her own heart heavy with the realization that what they had could never be. Not like this. Not after all that had passed between them.

With one last look, she turned away. Kaiser stood there, watching her go, feeling the emptiness inside him grow. The silence between them was louder than any words could ever be. And in that silence, Kaiser finally understood.

༻♕༺

He watched her from a distance, his gaze following her every move as she conducted another interview with one of the players. The scene was familiar, yet it felt distant, like a memory from a past life. Despite the days that had slipped away since their last encounter, Kaiser remained a king in the eyes of the world. His crown still gleamed, his fame intact, and yet his heart carried a weight he couldn't shake. His eyes, once fierce with ambition, now lingered on Y/n with an aching mixture of regret and longing. The feelings he'd buried deep inside him seemed to claw their way to the surface every time she was near, and he couldn't escape the pull.

On the outside, no one could tell what had happened to him. The public continued to see the indomitable athlete, the ruthless champion whose titles and success overshadowed everything else. But beneath the polished exterior, a man was unraveling. The armor he wore so effortlessly could not shield him from the ache in his chest, nor could it conceal the truth he had tried to ignore.

Y/n, on the other hand, moved through her days with a quiet determination, her heart guarded, but forever tethered to what had been. She kept the signed jersey he had given her, folded neatly in her closet, a relic of a time that felt both distant and close. It was a memory she couldn’t part with, no matter how much it pained her. She had always kept mementos—small reminders of things she wanted to hold onto—and this, despite everything, was one of them. A symbol of what had been, and what could have been. She would never throw it away. Not ever.

Though their paths had diverged, the space between them growing wider with each passing day, neither of them could escape the thoughts of the other. They remained in each other’s minds like an unspoken promise, a lingering memory of something beautiful yet broken. The past they shared hung between them, invisible yet palpable, a constant reminder of what they had and what they lost.

Kaiser remained on his throne in the stadium, ruling the field as he always had. But when it came to matters of the heart, he learned too late that even kings must face the consequences of their actions. His victories, his triumphs, came at a cost—a price he had never imagined paying. In the end, no title, no championship, could fill the emptiness left by what he had let slip through his fingers.

And Y/n? She moved forward, just as determined, just as focused—but her heart carried the weight of a loss that could never truly be healed. She had once believed in the possibility of something more, but now she knew better. Some victories come with too much sacrifice, and some battles are never meant to be won.

Both of them would carry the memory of what could have been, each in their own way, as they moved through the world. But deep down, they both knew—no matter how far apart they were, a part of them would always remain with the other.

a/n: AYGHHH HIS SEXY ASS FINALLY GOT ANIMATED FOR LIKE 10 SECONDS BUT THATS OKAY

This also took me longer than I expected. It was supposed to be published on the 25th (Kaisers bday‼️😫)

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justaweasel · 11 months ago

Text

Obey me but I am actively crying as I write this (not anymore I'm okay)

Satan has a type of inferiority complex. It's mostly because he's technically the youngest. But he sees everything this siblings have done and compares himself constantly. Especially to Lucifer.

One time the brothers played a little game for funsies, maybe like one of those stupid little games of hide and seek.

Satan was it and had found everyone relatively quickly, however, Lucifer was left.

He had honestly given it his best to find his brother, and imagined Lucifer's voice taunting him as he tried so hard. He looked everywhere. The more he looked, the more his insecurity surged. He thought more and more of his smug older brother's face as he looked.

Eventually, he broke down. He stomped and furniture was hurled to the floor. Doors slammed and windows shattered.

Lucifer came out of hiding of course but seeing his face only made Satan angrier.

Of course he couldn't find him on his own. Lucifer had to come out just so he could find him. How pathetic.

He almost slammed the door off of its hinges. The sound echoing through the trashed house.

That night wasn't a restful one for Satan. The thoughts swirled through his head. How pathetic he was, how right now he wallowed in his loathing of himself. No matter what he'd do or accomplish, he'd be a second-rate Lucifer.

Whatever he achieved was short in comparison to what Lucifer had done. Whatever he bragged about Lucifer seemed to one-up him without trying. Nothing mattered because it was all, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer. What he created was just an extension of Lucifer's accomplishments.

They all treated him like a kid, like lesser, but he's just as important and knowledgeable as them. Can't they see that for what it is? Isn't he important too? Isn't he someone with thoughts, feelings and emotions separate to Lucifer?

Never. He would never have that. He does his best to hide it. But it always tears it's way through the mental prison he's made for it. Locked up in what no one else would see. His thoughts blocked by a thick wall of fog.

The next morning they called it a hissy fit.

Was that all it boiled down to for them?? His feelings of shame and inner hatred of himself boiled down to a mere hissy fit? Was that truly how they saw him? How they saw his feelings? As if that whirlpool of feelings didn't suck him into their depths? As if he didn't feel the weight of his life and the circumstances of existence crush down on him until he was a screaming mess with no other way to deal with his emotions other than to make noise? Was that all he amounted to in their heads?

Let's just say Satan didn't come out of his room that night. Or the night after.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #satan obey me #lucifer obey me #angst #heavy angst #projecting #angst with a sad ending #obey me brothers

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writer-by-the-sea · 4 months ago

Note

Um, hi! I'm new and I really like your works!

I want to make a request for Haley and Penny (separate) if that's okay with you!

Scenario: how would they react when they find out that their s/o, the farmer, used to be a member of the Mafia? A hitman to be exact, but they've changed and left that life behind.

I don’t think I’ve ever done a full on headcanon before, but I figured why not!

Instead of doing mini fics for only two characters, I am going to attempt to write these thoughts into a slightly coherent but readable mess. WARNING: These do not all end happily. Some are very heavy angst and they break up with you.

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

“There’s… something I need to tell you,” the farmer began, rubbing the back of their neck while they looked away from the person in front of them. Someone that they’ve come to love, to trust enough to finally open up to, and someone who might understand.”Before moving to Stardew… I was... Part of a very bad crowd,” they pause and take a deep breath. “Not just a little group of delinquents that spray paint the side of buildings.

“Something.. Far worse. I know that you might view me differently because of this but– I want you to know who I truly am. I never want to lie to you, and while I wanted to keep this secret buried deep inside; I care about you too much to allow you to continue dating me without knowing…

“I was a hired killer, an assassin, a hitman.”

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

Alex

“Hey, man, you don’t have to lie to me to look cool,” Alex laughed and gave you a thumbs up. “You’re already really cool in my book.”

You grimace before saying, “Alex, I’m not lying.”

“Oh,” he breathes out. A minute passes, the gears turning in his head as he thinks it over. “Ohhh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you reply. “I understand if you need some space–”

Alex leaned back into his bed, letting himself land softly on his back. “Gramps has killed a few guys, so I’m not really worried about it.”

You look down at him and raise a single brow, “Wasn’t that in war though?”

“It was, but it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

“Not.. really.”

Alex shrugs and sighs, “if you asked him for stories, he would spend the rest of the day telling you every single bloody detail. I’ve heard them all a thousand times.” He sat up, dropping her face to a sneer and pulled his lips back. “During that war,” he began, perfectly mimicking his grandfather. “I killed fitty men! I collected their earlobes and wore them around my neck like a trophy!”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into Alex. “Okay, that’s a little fucked up actually.”

“You haven’t even heard the worst of it,” he answered with a grin. “He likes to tell this story about the time they had to go save some guy–”

“Wait,” you cut him off, gently placing your fingertips against his lips to stop him. “I just.. I want you to know that I love you, and that all of that shit is in the past… but I understand if you want nothing to do with me after this.”

Alex pushed your hands away with his lips, laughing again as he pulled back. “It’s alright, I get it. Just don’t keep anything else from me, okay?”

You nodded and pulled him into your arms, giving him a good squeeze. “I promise.”

Alex slid out of your arms and ran to his bedroom door, swinging it open before playfully glaring at you. “As punishment for not telling me in the first place!” He took a really deep breath filling his lungs before shouting “Grandpa! The farmer wants to hear all your war stories!”

Alex wasn’t scared of you. Afterall, nothing you’ve done could ever compare to the stories he grew up with. He knew his grandpa regretted the choices he made, but sometimes, you have to do cruel things to survive.

Elliott

Elliott quickly grabbed his wine, downing the glass in one huge gulp before placing it back onto the table. “What you’re telling me,” he whispered, his gaze focused on the empty wine glass. “You’re being truthful? This isn’t a jest?”

“No,” you answered, scooting your chair closer to his. “Just.. I know you’re in shock right now, but please just give me a chance to explain–”

“This is wonderful news!” Elliott jumped up from his chair, darting to a notebook that lies open with scribbles across the pages. He sprinted back, throwing himself back into the chair as harshly it nearly toppled over with him in it. “Tell me, what does another man’s eyes look like as you choke the life out of him?”

“W-what?” you stammered, glancing down at the notebook that was now on the table where Elliott held his quill above it, ready to write. “Are you trying to get a confession from me?”

“Heavens no!” He replied with a laugh, putting his quill down and turning to grab your hands. “My next novel is a murder mystery! I would love to have your feedback.”

“You’re kidding,” you replied, your mouth hanging open.

“Not at all, my love!” Elliott smiled so brightly, you would have thought you just told him his book had a million sales; not that you used to kill people for a living. “It truly is destiny that we were to meet!”

“Do… Are you okay with my past?”

“Ah,” Elliott nodded, understanding now why you seemed so hesitant with your words. “We all have our demons, don’t we, darling? If I were ever to judge every person I knew by the skeletons in their closet.. Well, life wouldn’t be very fun, now would it?”

“I’m…” you tried to focus, confusion swirling in your head making everything foggy and hard to follow. “What?”

Elliott was already back to his notebook, licking the pad of his thumb while he flipped through the pages. “This part here,” he held the book out to you, the page filled with brainstorms and more messy scribbles. “Could you fact check it for me? I honestly don’t know what a man sounds like when he gets stabbed like this. Also, the shoulder would be a good spot for them to survive from a stab, right?”

You laughed, shaking your head at this ridiculous man. “Well, actually, there’s a main artery that going along the shoulder–”

Part of you wasn’t surprised that Elliott was excited to discuss bloody, brutal, cold murder with you. Although, the writer did make a point the next day to scold you for keeping the secret from him. He could have finished his novel even sooner, and… he could have told you how much he loves you and would never give you up.

In fact, he would help you get away with murder.

Harvey

“No,” Harvey stood abruptly, his knee hitting his kitchen table and nearly knocking his coffee over, the hot liquid jumping out of the mug and onto the table. “Shoot!” he cried as the coffee landed on some of his folders that were spread out.

You joined him in grabbing napkins, trying to clean the coffee before it caused too much damage.

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered as he tossed the dirty napkins aside, uncaring of where they would land. “Not you, not my farmer, no…”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back your emotions. “Harvey–”

Then he broke before you, a sob ripping through his throat right before he began sobbing. His glasses getting wet and foggy as he let each tear slide down his cheeks. “Not you…”

“Please, I just–”

Harvey straightened up, taking a deep breath and forced himself to meet your eyes. “I have dedicated my whole life to helping those who need it. I took an oath to assist any single soul that cries for help. If a patient dies on my table, I have to live with that for the rest of my life. The rest of my life knowing that I couldn’t do enough for them!”

Your eyes widen, dread filling you as you realize this is the end. “Harvey, please–”

“Get out,” he growled, his voice deep, dangerous, and oozing with hatred.

“Let me explain–”

“For you to come to me, and tell me that you took human lives for your own gain? I don’t need to hear another word,” Harvey took a step towards you, his body tensing, preparing to fight you if he must. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

Everything in you wanted to stay, to fight for what you had…

You left, crying on your way back to the farm, your heart shattered beyond repair.

Sam

“For real?” Sam's face scrunched in disbelief. “No, you’ve gotta be joking. Ain’t no way the hot farmer killed some dudes.”

While your hands may have been tough from constantly working in the dirt, Sam could never imagine in a million years that you would kill a fly on the wall, let alone another human being!

“Is it April Fool’s? It is, isn't it?” he joked and nudged you. “Well, you got me–”

“Sam,” you breathed out in reply, the truth hanging between you.

“Holy shit,” Sam stood slowly, taking a step back from you. “You’re serious? You’ve actually killed people?”

“Yes.”

“Dude…” he ran a hand through his wild hair, not caring how the gel stuck to his fingers.

He needed more information, but right now, he needed to make one thing clear.

“Look,” he started and made his way back to you, dropping himself on his mattress next to you. “Like, I’m not gonna dump you over this; but keeping that from me was seriously not cool.”

“I know,” you mumbled in reply and offered a weak smile. “I just–”

Sam raised a hand, cutting you off. “No, we’re gonna talk about this later, after we’ve both had some pizza, and maybe a couple… or an entire case of beer. You’re gonna break all this shit down for me, and then we’re gonna talk about how you’re doing like.. Mentally. After doing all that shit.”

“Mentally?” you asked with a laugh. “What--”

“Nope,” Sam stood and grabbed your hand. “Pizza first, you asshole. I can’t believe you killed people, so fucking weird.”

Sam was in it for the long run, and while he viewed you differently (as like, a cold blooded killer what the fuck,) he wasn’t going to give up on you just because of a dark past.

Sebastian

“I mean, who hasn’t?”

Your head whips up to stare back at Sebastian, not sure you just hear those words correctly. “Wait–”

“You think I haven’t killed a man? Why do you think I hide out in the basement coding shit all day instead of living in the city and making a fortune? Be realistic.”

“Sebastian, I–”

“No, it’s cool. I really don’t care,” he said with a shrug and went back to typing on his computer.

“Well, no, wait; Sebastian that’s a lot to drop on someone–”

“Hey, I wasn’t a fucking hitman though now was I?”

“I don’t know, were you?!”

He shrugs again, reaching for an open pack of cigarettes and lights one up. He takes a deep drag and then blows it out slowly. “I’m gonna go get some leftover pumpkin soup, I made it last night, you want some?”

You just stare back at him, your jaw hanging open. Now you were the one that needed more information!

But, you supposed that could wait. Pumpkin soup was on the line, afterall.

Shane

He takes a sip of his soda, savoring the flavor and bubbles before putting his can back down on the kitchen table.

“So,” he began, forcing himself to sit up straight and meet your eyes.

“Are you here to kill me then?”

“What?”

“Are you.. here, to kill me?” Shane asked again, slowly.

“No!” you shouted and waved your hands in front of you like a white flag. “You’ve got the wrong idea!”

“I’m not telling you how I made the chickens blue, you can beat me to the brink of death and I’ll never spill–”

“Shane, babe, no– well actually how do you–” you stopped speaking as Shane glared at you and narrowed his eyes. “Nevermind the chickens, I’m not here to kill you.”

“To kill Marnie then?” He asks. “To end the competition for milk and eggs? You make me sick,” he spit.

“No, what? I turn all my milk into cheese to make you Pepper Poppers or Pizza–”

“Then the eggs!” He declares and stands up, pointing a finger down where you sat.

“Please, just listen to me,” you stood with him, on the verge of tears knowing that this could be the end–

Shane’s frown twitched, so quick you could almost miss it.

You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Oh, I see. You came here to kill Willy, with your gaping fish mouth.”

Any doubt or worries you had dropped instantly. “You’re totally fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I found your list of names a few months ago. You really shouldn’t leave that stuff lying around you know?”

“Yoba,” you sighed in relief and dropped back into your chair, the wood lightly squeezing on the tiled floor. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You kept your head down, ashamed to have ever tried to hide this from him.

Shane chuckled and sat back down, “I figured you’d tell me when the time was right.”

You risked a glance at Shane, “do you hate me for it.”

“Hate you? Of all people to hate someone for the mistakes they made in their past, you think I’m going to be one of them? I’m a little offended, farmer.”

“I’m sorry,” you cracked a smile as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with all of the love and support in the world.

He was right, Shane would never judge you for your past, just as you never judge him for his. The only thing that matters is the kind of person you are moving forward, and that suits him just fine.

Abigail

The first thing she asks, with a wicked grin and excited eyes, “So, how many people did you kill?”

While she knows the value of a human life, she could never allow her thoughts to wander towards ‘what if I killed someone?’ She feared she may pursue it herself.

“What was your weapon of choice?” she would ask next, hardly containing the buzz flowing through her body from the quick high; knowing she was talking to (dating!) a certified badass killer.

She does view you differently, however.

Not as an evil person, as you might have expected; but someone strong enough to protect her, someone who told her this knowing that she might turn away from them, someone who loves her enough to put her first.

The subject is sensitive, and she knows not to tease you too much or ask for too many details; but she does ask for the occasional story – if you’re willing to give it.

Emily

She gasps, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she stares back at you in horror. “W-what do you m-mean,” she stumbles over her words, her hands now shaking as she lowers them away from her face, trying to steady them as they rest in her lap. “You.. you actually, ki–” she can’t finish the sentence.

“I did what I had to, to get by. Please understand that I’m not a bad person-”

“You killed people,” she dropped her head and watched as tears fell into her lap. “You actually killed people…”

“Emily–”

“How can I trust you after this?!” She jumped up, still shaking while she paced around her room. “How can I know that you’re not withholding more?!”

You stood and put your hands on her shoulders, holding her in place, but she refused to meet your eyes. “I swear to you, I will never hide something from you again… if you just give me a chance to prove myself.”

Emily dropped her head onto your shoulder, softly sobbing and letting her tears drip onto your shirt. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

“Okay,” you whispered back, your arms moving down to wrap around her. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

There would be a lot of trust issues moving forward, and Emily would keep you on a tight leash for a while; but she knew that not everyone was perfect, and while she might not like your past, she loves who you are now. And she’s not willing to give up yet.

Haley

She looked up from her phone, her brow dropping down and her eyes narrowing, “Ew.”

You tried not to snort a laugh at her reply, but failed miserably. “That’s all you have to say? Ew?”

She rolled her eyes at you, “what else am I supposed to say? Oh no, please don’t kill me, super scary hitman?”

“Uh,” you looked around you as if you could find the answer hovering in the air. “I’m.. not.. sure, honestly.”

Another eyeroll. “You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it’s worth. I’m still going to love you no matter what dumb shit you’ve done in your past. I mean, did you know that I dyed my hair black once? Also, ew. Total regret.”

Bewildered, you plopped down beside her, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t care?”

“Ugh. Of course I care,” she slapped you on the side and finally put her phone aside. “But you obviously regret it, like I did with the black hair, and while our past mistakes may have been huge; it doesn’t dictate who we are today. So, don’t worry about it.”

“You realize you’re comparing black hair to the murder of a.. Lot of people?”

“Babe,” she took a deep breath, staring deep into your eyes, begging you to understand…

“I used a box dye. Tell me a worse crime than that.”

You laughed together, her crime never coming close to your misdeeds, and she knew it. But after getting to know you, she knew she could continue to trust you just as she always has.

Leah

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Leah threw her paintbrush at you, hitting you in the chest and leaving a splotch of yellow paint. “Not again!”

“Again?!” you shouted back in shock. “What do you mean again!?”

“Tell me,” she hissed. “How many, what organization, and why the hell did you make me fall in love with you?!”

“Leah,”

“Do. Not. Leah. Me.” Each word spit in your direction. “Answer me.”

You sighed, “it was a lot of people.. The organization was international and I never really knew who was in charge..” Closing your eyes, just to get away from her angry glare for a moment, you continued, “I never meant to mislead you. I wanted to tell you the truth to see if I even still stood a chance with you.”

Leah relaxed, shaking her head before finding a place to sit down. “Thanks, for telling me, I guess.”

Moving to her side, you kneeled next to her, taking her paint stained hands into your own. “Please, just give me a chance to make this up to you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well. You did,” she gently pulled her hands away, turning away from you. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can go through this again.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re never fully out of that life, farmer. That past will come back to haunt you one day, and I don’t think I have the strength to endure it.”

“No, Leah, it’s over, I swear–”

“Just leave, okay? I have a lot to think about.”

Dejected, you do as you're told, stopping to say one last thing before you go. “I hope you’ll give me another chance, Leah. I’ve never felt this way about someone before, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

She sniffles and wipes a tear away, “we’ll see.”

Maru

She begins by tilting her head at you, her eyes scanning you up and down before turning back to her studies. “I know that, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Huh?!” you blurt out, shaking your head. “How–”

Maru sighed and put her work aside, realizing that they needed to have a full chat about this now, despite her samples calling for her.

“Once, you mentioned the amount of required poison to kill a person without raising suspicion to require an autopsy.”

“Okay, but–”

“Another time, when my dad asked if you wanted to go camping one weekend and maybe hunting, you asked if a Heckler & Koch P30L would be an appropriate gun to bring.”

“I’ve never been hunting before!” you defended, weakly.

“Sweetheart, it’s a handgun. You don’t go hunting with a handgun.”

“Hang on–”

“Furthermore, you have two bullet wounds that I know of. One on your lower left calf and the other on your upper bicep. You also have obvious scars from being stabbed or sliced and it was most certainly not from a childhood cat.”

You both stared at one another. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could ever hide anything from her.

“Does it bother you?”

“A little,” she admitted with a small shrug. “So long as you don’t go back into that kind of work though, I can get over it. Just don’t ever try to lie to me again, I will always know.”

Penny

Her eyes widen and her heartbeat jumps so quickly she thinks she might faint.

She would have never expected this of you.

Going into the mines was one thing, but killing people was a whole other level of insanity.

It takes her a minute to process what you’ve just told her, her hands twisting in her lap, fearing she’s going to say the wrong thing.

“Were they all bad people?” she finally asks, lifting her eyes up to meet yours.

You take a moment to respond, a lie resting at the tip of your tongue, but you squash it and say, “No, they weren’t.”

At this, Penny breaks.

She drops her head into her hands and cries, pulling her knees up and to her chest while the heels of her feet rest on the edge of the couch.

She was in love with you. So desperately, eagerly, pathetically in love with you.

And now, she doesn’t know how to move forward.

Her whole life, she has dealt with bad people. From the moment she was born she has fought with everything she’s ever had to be one of the good ones. Abiding by the rules, keeping to herself to avoid stepping on any toes, taking care of others when they don’t even appreciate the kindness she shows to them.

“I don’t-” she gasped between her tears. “I don’t think I can do this.”

The farmer nodded, taking her hands into their own and squeezing them gently. “I love you, Penny. More than anything.”

“Why did you have to tell me?” she whispered. “Why..”

“I couldn’t keep lying to you..”

Penny stood, ripping her hands away to rope the back of them under her eyes. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to me ever again.”

Then she ran off, leaving you there as the guilt washed over you.

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upat4amwiththemoon · 8 months ago

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Lay me down gently

Summary: When I’m ready to fall, will you let go of my hand?

Pairing: past Natasha Romanoff x female!reader, platonic Wanda Maximoff x female!reader

Warnings: death, heavy angst, depression, wandavision didn’t happen

Word count: 1391

a/n: too dark? Too sad?

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @strangegardentaco @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

It’s been a year since the day Y/N lost everything. Most of the people have already done the work to start moving on, but she hasn’t been able to do that. How could she? The love of her life, the woman who she was supposed to marry and live the rest of her life with, died.

Natasha sacrificed herself to save the world.

And Y/N loves her for that, she also hates her for it. She wishes Natasha would’ve been selfish. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hopes Natasha would’ve let Clint died, but she’ll never say that out loud. She knows Clint has the same wish. He has been trying to earn her forgiveness since that day. Even though, she has told him multiple times he doesn’t have to, that she has already forgiven him.

It’s not entirely untrue. Y/N would just prefer not to be around him. However, it’s difficult when his whole family is trying to get her to join them for family events. She doesn’t want to do that. Her family is gone, she doesn’t want another one.

During the year, Y/N has been locked up in her bedroom at the Avenger’s compound, she can’t go back to their home. It’s not her home anymore, the house never was, Natasha is the one that made it her home. She has continued working as an Avenger, doing her best to help the blipped people to get back into their lives. Besides, the crime never stops.

Her teammates have tried their best to get her out of the room, but all of them except Wanda have given up.

Wanda is a saint. She lost her home too, yet she is trying to help Y/N instead of herself. Y/N thinks she’s trying to escape the feeling of sorrow, just like she is by sleeping and rotting in her bed. She appreciates her friend, but it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Y/N sits in the Quinjet as the team flies towards their destination. Only a small part of the team was chosen for the mission, Steve, Tony, Wanda, and Y/N. It’s supposed to be a quick, in and out mission. They never are.

Tapping on her shoulder brings Y/N back to the present. She turns to the side to see Wanda gently smiling at her. She looks tired of trying, but Y/N knows Wanda would never stop.

“How are you?” Her voice is soft, as if Y/N would shatter if it was any louder. She might.

“Good.” A blatant lie, but Wanda accepts it with a nod. Y/N’s voice is hoarse and it breaks at every other word, it has lost the gentleness of it. She hasn’t spoken a lot during the year. She hasn’t had any reason to talk.

“Good.” Wanda nods again. Her eyes shift through the Quinjet, she’s desperately looking for something. “They’re holding these things,” she starts carefully, “like support groups, for people who lost family during the blip.” She pauses, waiting for Y/N to say something, anything. “Would you like to go with me? I could really use someone familiar there with me.”

Y/N turns to look at Wanda. She has such a hopeful smile on her face, and Y/N hates disappointing her, but they both know what her answer is going to be. “No.”

“Okay.” Wanda whispers, still holding a smile on her face. She doesn’t want her to know how affected she is by the numerous failed attempts of trying to help her friend. “Just let me know if I can help you in any way.”

Nodding, Y/N falls back into her own world, where she stays for the rest of the flight.

They land the Quinjet on top of an abandoned building. It’s supposed to be a HYDRA base that is no longer in use.

Steve checks the perimeter, returning to the other three when nothing catches his eyes. “Tony and I will go inside, you two stay up here in case someone tries to surprise us.” Y/N and Wanda nod.

Tony opens one of the vents on the roof and drops down, Steve following right behind him. The Quinjet turns invisible to hide from prying eyes.

The wind blows softly as Y/N and Wanda stand in silence. Although Wanda keeps a vigilant eye out on the perimeter, she can’t help but keep glancing at Y/N. She seems like she isn’t even there anymore, not emotionally at least.

A feeling of something wrong grows in her body. “Y/N.” She swallows. “I’m worried.”

“About?” Y/N’s eyes don’t even glance at Wanda.

“That if I don’t do something, you’ll get hurt.”

“Sometimes it’s better to do nothing.”

Wanda doesn’t agree, but she doesn’t have time to voice this, as a contained explosion rattles the concrete beneath their feet.

“The building is not empty!” Steve’s voice comes through the comms right as all the vents to the roof open and a group of HYDRA soldiers rush out.

Y/N takes out her weapons and Wanda’s eyes turn red as they start fighting the soldiers. They can hear Steve and Tony struggling as they fight inside the building. The soldiers are ruthless, and they don’t seem to be lessening no matter how much they fight them.

A groan leaves Y/N’s mouth as she gets hit by something hard to the back of her head. She shoots whoever did it, but her legs stumble closer to the edge. She shakes her head to make the fuzziness go away.

Lifting her head up, her eyes widen. The only thing she sees is a bright blast coming right towards her.

It hits her in the chest, causing her to fly over the edge.

“Y/N!” Wanda runs to the edge, pushing the soldiers out of her way.

The wind is rushing past Y/N’s ears as she falls. She can only see the sky and Wanda, who gets smaller and smaller every second, from her view the red hair looks almost like Natasha’s. There’s a smile on her face.

Natasha.

She knows her girlfriend would want her to give up, but she couldn’t be mad at her for wanting to be with her again. Y/N knows she’d be more than happy to see her face again.

As the time to act gets shorter and shorter, Wanda’s eyes turn red, readying her magic to soften Y/N’s landing. Because unexpectancy of her magic, she peeks into her mind, not on purpose, but it’s still just as clear. That fraction of a second in her mind and the blatant smile on Y/N’s face makes her pause. The pause is long enough for her eyes to turn back to normal. Everything rushes around in her mind as she tries to make sense of the situation, as she tries to get her head back to the present and just lift her up. But a feeling deep inside her makes Wanda unable to act.

A feeling she knows neither of them can escape. Unless…

She watches as Y/N falls and she wants to rips her eyes away, but she can’t do that to her friend. She has to be there for her one last time.

Wanda finally looks away after the impact. Her ears are ringing and the team is shouting over the comms but she can’t hear them. She heaves as she drops to her knees, a burst of magic leaving her body as she screams, pushing any enemy left down the building. Her eyes are turning blurry from all the tears rushing out, she isn’t sure if she’s tasting blood or bile in her mouth. Her whole body shakes from the sobs.

She did the right thing.

Her nails dig into her palms as the scene of Y/N falling down replays in her mind over and over again. She’s pretty sure someone is trying to talk to her through the comms, trying to find out what just happened.

Surely, she did the right thing.

“Y/N is dead.” Wanda gasps out, her voice weak as the words tumble out. They seem so wrong, so unfair. She screws her eyes shut, dropping her forehead against the cold roof under her.

The guilt will eat her alive.

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bamboobooshark · 5 months ago

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BUCKY BARNES X READER

﹒⌗ ⚜️ ౨ ♰ ˚₊‧ HOLD ON : 2.5K WRDS

<RATING: PG-13, VIOLENCE, DEATH, SIMILAR CONTENT>

This is a lil smthn smthn for my pookie!! This is also my first time writing angst!! So prepare for this to be not so good as my fluff stuff (there is going to be a bit of fluff at the beginning though). !!WARNINGS: angst, character deaths (reader and character), crying, blood, guns, eventual suicide!!

Christmas time. You and Bucky always enjoyed it. The two of you loved the cold weather, the small lights that dimly lit the city at night, the soft layers of snow covering the ground, all of it was so gorgeous. The wind was hitting your faces causing both of your noses to get a bit drippy. Besides all the sniffles and full body shivers, you and Bucky were enjoying you winter night stroll. You held each other’s hands, fingers tightly intertwined to show your affection and to keep warm.

It isn’t long before you two are close to arriving at your apartment building. You can’t tell whether you or Bucky is more excited to cuddle and get cozy, but it doesn’t matter.

It won’t matter.

“Fuck,” Bucky mutters under his breath. He grips your hand tightly. His muscles tense so hard his arm begins to tremble. You shoot him a confused glare. Why is he so shaken? Is he worried? Why won’t he answer you?

You and Bucky thought Hydra was done with him. It had been years since he last had to deal with them. Neither of you would’ve expected to quickly be surrounded by several men; several Hydra workers. This isn’t how this night is supposed to end. You’re supposed to go to your flat and make hot cocoa and cuddle and tell each other how much you admire the other.

“Bucky? What’s going on,” you ask, your voice wavering. He finally looks to meet your eyes. They’re wide and glossy. He’s trying his damned hardest to not show it, but he’s just as terrified as you are. “I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what they want. I don’t know why they’re here,” he rambles. He stands in front of you, gazing into your eyes deeply. “I need you to listen to me, darling. I love you. I always will. There’s never going to be a day where I forget you. I promise I’ll always remember you,” he assures you, now grasping both of your hands tightly and pressing them to his chest. You shake your head in confusion and disbelief. “Bucky, stop. You’re scaring me,” you plead as tears prick your eyes.

“This could go one of two ways, Barnes,” one of the men speaks. Bucky gives him a glare so hard it makes your breath pause for a few moments. He releases your hands and stands tall. You try desperately to grab his hand back, pawing at his fists pitifully. “Let me handle this,” he whispers to you sweetly. You nod in agreement. Though your body is trembling, you stay as still as you can. You feel lightheaded. Your legs feel like they might give out. You can feel the blood leaving your face, your body going cold like you’re dying.

“The easiest way to go about this is to have you step away from your sweetheart and come with us,” the same man says. His arms cross against his chest tightly before he exhales deeply. “But I know, we all know, that you don’t like things to be easy. You want things the hard way,” he says confidently. Bucky practically growls at the way the man speaks. He can feel what might happen next. He doesn’t even take a moment to look at you before he tugs you against his chest. God, his flesh is warm. So warm, so contrasting to the metal hand the presses against your back compared to the one that holds the back of your head protectively. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you take my baby. Not now. Not ever,” he states. His fingers grip onto you tightly like he’ll loose you if you barely slip out of his grasp.

“You’re proving me right,” the man chuckles. The six other Hydra employees surround you and Bucky from a distance. Guns point at you and him from every direction. A knot forms in your stomach. You know that whatever’s about to happen next is inevitable. No matter what either of you do, what either of you say, will save your life or Bucky’s. “I love you, Bucky,” you mutter against the crook of his neck. Hot tears roll down your cheeks while you attempt to hold back your ugly cries. “I know it. I love you too,” he whispers to you, kissing the side of your head.

“No! Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bucky yells, choking back tears.

It takes a moment before your body takes in what happened. Your ears ring from the sound of a gun going off. You feel the most intense, stinging pain in your side. Your hands move from your lover’s back to grip your abdomen. You can’t hold back to ugly cries. You begin to whine and wail, yelling Bucky’s name incoherently. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. Just give me a second, okay,” he assures as he falls to the ground with you. He holds you closely in his lap, climbing on top of you to protecting you. He does his best to cover your head and chest, that way you can’t be shot again without the Hydra employees shooting him as well. He struggles to shimmy his coat off before ripping a long strip of it off with his teeth, using his metal arm for some extra power. You cooperate the best you can, lifting your stomach and pressing against him so he can wrap the fabric around your waist. You groan loudly in pain as he fastens it as tight as he can. “Shh. I know it hurts, baby. I know. Bare with me, though. This will save your life,” he says as he presses his head to yours.

“I’m not going back to that hellhole,” he declares with nothing but determination in his voice. He’s not letting you die tonight. He’s not going back to Hydra. He’s not allowing himself to forget you. No fucking way. “Step away from them, Barnes. This is your last warning before we have to start using more force than necessary,” the leader says with feigned sincerity. He growls in responde while shaking his head no. He stays pressed to you, not giving any verbal response to the Hydra men. His tears drip down his cheeks and onto your clothes. You’ve never seen him give you such a pitiful, desperate, affectionate gaze. You’re hoping you’ll never have to see him like this again. He whispers how much he loves you, how he can’t wait until you get stitched up so he can hug you as tight as he physically can, that he’s so excited to see your reaction to what he got you for Christmas. You try your best to reciprocate, gritting your teeth and tensing while you speak. You feel like you can barely hold on despite the pressure of his torn coat slowly stopping the bleeding. It feels too late for miracles, for prayers, for anything to stop this.

“Can you hold on for me, sweetheart? Could you do that for me,” he asks tenderly, his warm hand coming down to caress your cheek. You lean into his touch lovingly. You can feel his pulse against your jaw. You can smell his hands; the usual scent of metal mixed with the soap you’d gotten him months ago for his birthday that he refuses to stop using. You nod in response, choking out a “yeah” for him. He smiles softly and nods in sync with you. “Thank you, baby,” he mumbles.

Nothing but a loud exclamation of “no” comes from your mouth.

Two of the men had used the vulnerable, moment to try and pull Bucky away from you. He resisted, kicking, punching, even biting the men to get them off. “I told you I’m not going back! Espically if you kill my damn spouse,” he barks angrily at them. The leader of the group approaches your entangled bodies.

You can feel Bucky’s chest press against you in an almost sedating manner. The way you can feel his heart against yours. His breaths coming out hard and heavy from his chest. The stuttering of his heartbeat from crying so hard. “I’m telling you to leave us alone. Forget about taking me back. Forget about ever shooting them. Just erase this whole thing from your mind and leave us alone,” he pleads with the man. “I’ll take them to the hospital, say it was a hit and run, we all go home, live a happy life, and pretend none of this ever happened,” he says as a demand rather than a deal.

The figure that stood above you two shook his head no while smiling sadistically. “I’m sorry, but that’s not how this works, James,” he chuckles, your partner’s names sounding like poison coming from his mouth. “You either resist and they die, or you come with us and they live,” he says. You look up at Bucky, biting the inside of your cheek. “Bucky, please. I don’t want you to have to go back. Let me,” you pause, struggling to say the next word. “Let me die,” you mutter through heavy sobs. For the first time in a while, Bucky acts aggressive towards you. “Darling there’s no day, time, or universe I’d let you die like this. You’re getting out of this alive,” he promises you. Your tears blur your vision, your boyfriend lovingly wipes them away with his thumb as he looks up at the male. “You’re not taking their life. There’s no way I’m letting any of you take their life away from them,” he states sternly.

“You’re funny,” the Hydra agent says before you both hear the cocking of a gun. Bucky immediately covers your head and heart with his body. You can’t hear anything but his breathing now. His breathing, his crying, his desperation apparent in the way he inhales and exhales. “If you shoot them, you’re shooting me,” he says before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he tells you again. “I love you too,” you say, as a promise more than a statement to him, one more time.

For the last time.

Another stinging pain courses through you before things go black. Bucky pauses in disbelief, in denial that he left the slightest bit of your head uncovered. He yells out your name as loud as he physically can, tears and pain scratching his throat like a cat’s claws. He’s never letting himself down for this. He can’t. He never can. He sobs, crying himself dry until he’s sputtering and coughing dryly. “You’re sick,” he says quietly. “You’re all fucking sick,” he barks loudly as he holds your bleeding head to his chest.

It’s been weeks. The Hydra agents left Bucky alone to grieve with your death, deciding that would be worse than wiping his memory once more and letting him forget you. He hosted your funeral and now holds your ashes in a small charm of a necklace he doesn’t take off. His mechanical arm rusts with some of your blood still on it. He’s been struggling. Despite having a good support system and being surrounded by the people he cares about, he can’t stand not having the one he cares about most around; you.

He sits on the couch in your shared flat. His eyes glance over to your spot. Your blanket is still draped over the top of the couch the way it was when you two went out walking that dreaded night. Your favorite throw pillow lays on top of the cushion. He lets himself silently cry. He can hear your voice. He can see your smile. He can faintly smell your scent on the items you left behind. Fuck, it’s so hard without you. It’s insufferable. It’s quiet. It’s dull. Life feels more lonely than when he first had his memory wiped. His gaze falls on the Christmas tree. He eyes each of the ornaments. You two had been living together for almost four years and you’d trying to collect trinkets or actual ornaments for the tree. He smiles tenderly, each little item holding a loving moment between the two of you. He looks from the star on the top to the presents at the bottom.

With a pained groan, he lifts himself from the couch. He uses the dim lights from the tree’s lights and the cheesy Hallmark movie on the TV like a flashlight to find one specific present. The box isn’t the biggest, but it sure as hell is special. He unwraps the box and holds it in his hands. The red velvet in his hands doesn’t do anything but make him cry harder and smile bittersweetly.

He opens it to reveal or gorgeous engagement ring. The diamonds in the middle form a star, just like the one that was on his mechanical arm when you two first met. He unclasps the necklace that holds your ashes, slipping the ring onto the chain. He closes it back and grips the two small items in his hand so hard, his knuckles turn white.

“I miss you so bad. I’m so sorry you never got to see this ring. I’m sure you would’ve loved it. Maybe you would’ve thought it was stupid,” he says, talking to what remains of you. “I can’t stand not seeing you,” he sighs. He heads to your bedroom. He wipes some of the liquid that driped from his nose before smiling at your side of the bed. It was still neatly made like the way you left it. He loved the way you would make your side of the bed, and even fix up his side if he didn’t. He reached into his bedside table drawer to grab the lockbox stashed under files and random items. He unlocks it and picks up the revolver inside. He always kept it fully loaded in the case that someone broke in and possibly brought a whole team with them. He never thought he’d be using this thing for an emotional emergency rather than a physical threat. He grabs the sweater off the side of your bed that you wore to sleep the night before the walk. It still smelt like you, had your signature scent that he could always recognize. He wrapped it around his neck in a way that represented a hug from you. He grips the ashes and engagement ring once more, the revolver in the other hand. He lays on the ground and sighs peacefully. He’ll see you soon. He’ll be with you. He knows his headstone will look nice next to yours. He knows that flowers will bloom in the dirt near your graves, moss will cover the headstones, and the stones will age old together for you and Bucky since you two won’t get the chance to. “I love you, sweetheart,” he says before pressing a kiss to the charm holding your remains. He inhales deeply, then exhales for the last time in his life, your ashes and ring still gripped in his hand.

You two didn’t get the chance to grow old together. Your headstones will, though. That’s the beauty of it. That’s your proof that you’ll always love each other.

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kizudnyy · 9 months ago

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Letting you go for the brighter future (Maybe In another lifetime, right?)

《 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝙭 𝙃𝘼𝙒𝙆𝙎/𝙆𝙀𝙄𝙂𝙊 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝘼𝙈𝙄 》

"Loving someone is never a waste,"

"The love letter you left for me back then...."

" I still cherish it."

Keigo Takami, known to the world as Hawks, stood in front of Y/N's grave, the weight of regret heavy on his shoulders.

As he looked down at the engraved letters spelling out her name, memories of their high school years flooded his mind like a relentless tide.

"Y/N," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wish I could turn back time and undo the pain I caused you."

He paused, closing his eyes as the image of Y/N's smiling face filled his mind. The warmth of her laughter echoed in his ears, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

"High school was supposed to be a time of laughter and friendship, but for us, it was marred by my foolishness," he continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "I thought teasing you was harmless fun, but I failed to see the hurt it caused."

"The love letter," he choked out, his voice trembling with guilt. "I found it too late, buried beneath layers of my own insecurities."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke, the weight of his words threatening to crush him.

"Before I could confess my own feelings, fate intervened," he said, his voice barely audible over the rustle of leaves in the wind. "I was summoned to the principal's office, only to find your parents there, they were... fucking.. balling their eyes out. I- I was confused and asked them— why we're they there,"

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come out of his mouth.

"They told me you were gone, taken from this world by your own hand," he said, each word heavy with sorrow.

In that moment, the enormity of his loss hit him like a sledgehammer, leaving him gasping for air.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. "I should have been there for you. I should have protected you. Im r-really.. fucking sorry... I shouldn't have— I–.."

But it was too late.

No matter how desperate Hawk— Keigo, Keigo Takami was.

Nothing would change.

Years passed, and Keigo rose to become a hero, admired by many for his bravery and strength.

Yet, deep down, he carried the weight of Y/N's confession like a burden too heavy to bear.

And so, he stood before her grave, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he made a solemn vow.

"In the loving memory of Y/N," he said, his voice ringing out in the quiet cemetery. His eyes averted beneath the text, as he continued to read with sorrowful eyes.

"A loving daughter, sister, friend.. forever laid beneath the surface, dreams ... crushed and shall rest in peace."

MASTERLIST

#keigo takami #mha hawks #mha #mha keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #hawks x reader #sad ending #angst #suic1de #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha hawks #heavy angst #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on wattpad #velcro #Absquatulatesgfluff&angstseries

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rat-cannibal · 11 months ago

Note

i have no idea if you write for adam, but here i am

i am the ultimate angst asker, if you're okay with that

adam or lute(ilovewomenbumpersticker) x reader who does in the extermination without them knowing.

- FEED ME A BONE,

carcass

aaaa thank you so much for the request!! i am a fellow lover of women, so I will do Lute at a later date. i wasnt too sure about what you meant by 'does in'. i did give you a sad ending though, so hopefully that makes up for it!

how would adam or lute react to the reader finding out about the exterminations? Part 1

- Adam -

you and adam started dating before he started the exterminations

you're an amazing person - kind, sweet, innocent, everything an angel should be. and also everything Adam isn't.

adam is already so insecure about anything that has to do with hell bc lucifer stole his wives (cue pussy eating hand gesture)

so he doesn't even mention it when he starts thinking about the exterminations

you're suspicious, obviously, because he's going off on so many meetings and is becoming more distant

but you dont say anything because you love adam, and he would never lie to you.. would he?

when adam finally gets his extermination team approved, he's overjoyed

he comes home and immediately kisses the shit out of you

You whine as he pulls away from you, your lips swollen and your face flushed. You try to catch your breath. "Not that I'm complaining, but, uh, what exactly was that about?"

Adam grins widely, squeezing your hands. "What, am I not allowed to kiss my beautiful partner hello?" You sense a hint of deceit in his voice, but choose not to question him about it.

you and adam always sleep in the same bed at nights. you have practically since you started dating.

so when one night he doesn't come home, alarm bells immediately go off in your head

is he cheating on you? maybe he found someone else, someone better

no, you reason, surely he's just held up at work

your suspicions only intensify when he returns the following morning, hair tousled and clothing ruffled

he looks exhausted, like he didn't get any sleep. usually this would indicate a long day at work, but theres a smile on his face that paperwork could never cause

dread grows in your stomach

he greets you happily, like nothing's wrong, and you play along, not wanting to fight with your boyfriend about something that could very well have been a misunderstanding

next year, though, when he disappears again and comes back looking thoroughly satisfied, your suspicions are confirmed.

adam is cheating on you.

you're a very conflict-averse person, so these yearly meetings go on for nearly two decades (time works different in heaven ok just roll with it. 1 year = a month to them basically)

eventually, though, you come home from a hard day of work and Adam isn't there.

that pushes you over the edge. you pack a bag and store it in the closet before going back to your room.

you would look for an apartment in the morning. for now, you just want to sleep.

you wake up and join adam in the kitchen for breakfast. he looks like he always does after these meetings - ruffled, yet satisfied.

"Adam," you say simply, "we need to talk."

"Uh-oh," teases Adam, "am I in trouble?"

"Where were you last night?"

Adam swallows thickly. "What?"

You glare at him. "Where were you last night?"

"I was busy with a work thing - you know how it is, babe, they work me to the bone. It's ridiculous."

"Why do you look so happy, then, so fulfilled?" You sigh. "Look, Adam, I know you're cheating on me. I've known for years now. I guess I just hoped you'd have the balls to admit it."

adam tries to frantically explain that he's not cheating on you, that he's been leading a yearly extermination

he would never cheat on you, he loves you

you demand to know what an extermination is, and he tells you in more detail than you ever would have wanted

you listen in silence as he describes the joy he gets from killing demons - from killing human souls

you retrieve your bag and leave your shared apartment for good

adam begs you to stay, says he'll change, that he'll do anything

but you can't be with a murderer

#hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #gn reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #angst #heavy angst #sad ending #no happy ending

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certifiedcallahanstan · 10 months ago

Text

The memoir of a horny fangirl

chapter 2

Warnings: This is a pretty heavy chapter, it shows a really vulnerable side to Hazel and the shitty side of the reader. I had to get this chapter done, so the rest can be lighter and more *spicy*. The next chapter will get back to baseball hazel!!

This chapter contains: sa

It’s been a couple days since you had received the picture and you know you shouldn’t be upset, Hazel is a grown woman and is allowed to kiss whomever she wants, it’s not like you two are together anyways. That however doesn’t stop you from trying to avoid her.

P.J invites you to the coffee shop with Josie and Brittany to do quote on quote “studying” which really means she wants to talk to you all about her latest hook up.

Despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself getting caught up in the conversation.

“and i mean it wasn’t a fucking normal sized strap, that shit was like- fucking xxl” P.J moves her hands at least a feet apart from eachother trying to demonstrate the size and josie scrunches up her nose.

“I don’t need to hear that P.J, you keep that to yourself” she huffs and you cover your mouth trying to stop a laugh from escaping.

For a brief moment, the weight of your emotions regarding Hazel and the photo fade into the background as you lose yourself in the conversation until eventually Brittany convinces everyone that we should probably study.

You pull out your notes adorned with doodles of different sea creatures and facts about them when you hear a familiar voice approach the table.

“Hey guys” the voice that belongs to the shaggy brunette starts “Josie told me you all were studying and that..” she looks at her phone reading the text “We are about to kill P.J, please come before one of us commits a felony”

P.J just responds with a huff a mutters something along the lines of “you all are just mad i get more hoes” as Hazel pulls out a chair and joins the group.

You scoot slightly more away from Hazel hoping nobody will notice. unfortunately these chairs are millenniums old and makes and obnoxious screeching noise

You cringe inwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks as all eyes turn in your direction.

Hazel's gaze flickers briefly in your direction, her brow furrowing in confusion at the sudden noise.

"Sorry about that," you mumble, offering a sheepish smile as you try to play off the noise. "These chairs are... uh, not the most cooperative."

Everyone seems to accept that excuse as they get back to their previous tasks. You start shading in the sea creature you were previously drawing in your journal when you feel P.J looming over you.

“what the fuck knuckles is that” she says as she points at your drawing

you look down at a your notebook where you had draw what looks like a eel-shark hybrid

“it’s called a frilled shark” you start explaining as all eyes look at you “they get their name from the frilly appearance of their gill sets. In fact they’re one of the few sharks that eat their prey whole…”

You trail off awkwardly, realizing that you may have gone a bit overboard with your explanation when you see everyone blankly staring at you. Clearing your throat, you try to steer the conversation back on track.

"Anyway, um... yeah, it's just a cool creature I thought I'd draw," you finish lamely

“I think it’s sick”

you turn your head to the voice and see Hazel smiling at you “i mean a shark that moves like an eel?”

"Yeah, exactly!" you respond, a smile spreading across your face as you meet Hazel's gaze. "It's pretty fascinating how they've adapted to their environment."

fuck why does she have to be so damn irresistible.

your thoughts are cut off by the slamming of a text book and you see Brittany getting up “my brain feels all mushy, im going home to take a nap”

Josie nods, putting her computer in her back pack “i should probably get back to Isabel” and P.J mutters something about going to “fuck then duck” whatever that means.

Soon enough it’s just you and Hazel, you try to ignore the tension, but damn it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching between you as you both seem lost in your own thoughts. You fidget nervously, unsure of what to say.

Finally, Hazel clears her throat, breaking the silence with a hesitant smile. "So... um, how have you been?" she asks, her voice soft and tentative.

You swallow, trying to push aside the swirling emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. "I've been okay," you reply, your voice slightly strained. "Just... you know, trying to stay busy with school and stuff."

and not making out with random red heads and getting chlamydia you add in your head.

Hazel nods, her gaze flickering briefly as she seems to search for the right words. "Yeah, I get that," she says quietly “hey um..have you been avoiding me? i’ve tried to text you but you haven’t answered and everytime i try to come up to you you walk the opposite direction”

your jaw clenches as you start putting everything in your shark printed back pack “what reason would i have to avoid you Hazel” your voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

she runs her ringed fingers through her hair and you try not to notice the prominent veins “that’s what i’m trying to figure out, did i do something?”

“not everything is about you callahan” you grunt out as you try to gather all your loose papers

“here let me help-“

“i don’t need your help” you shove her arm away and in the process her hand hits an open water bottle spilling water all over your notebook. the notebooks that has three years worth of research in it

A sense of panic washes over you as you scramble to salvage what you can, frantically wiping at the water with trembling hands. Hazel watches helplessly, her expression a mixture of concern and regret.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I was just trying to..."

You cut her off with a sharp gesture, your own frustration boiling over as you struggle to contain your emotions. "Just... leave me alone, Hazel," you mutter, your voice thick with emotion.

she steps back as her eyebrows knit together “this wouldn’t have happened if you just let me help. Maybe instead of pushing people away talk to them”

You can see the hurt etched in her features, and for a moment, you feel a pang of guilt tug at your conscience.

"I'm sorry, I just..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. With a heavy sigh, you toss your notebook into the trash and sling your backpack over your shoulder

"I have to go," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn away, unable to face Hazel in that moment. With each step you take, the distance between you and Hazel grows, the ache of regret gnawing at your heart.

Hazel just presses her lips together and nods before you see the same red head from the photo calling her name in an annoying high pitched voice.

You watch in silence as Hazel hesitates, her eyes briefly searching yours for any sign of a response. Before you can gather your thoughts, she turns away, putting on a fake smile as the red-headed girl approaches.

"What's up, Becca?" she says, her tone polite but strained, the artificiality of her smile not escaping your notice.

you turn away, knowing that it's not your place to intervene in Hazel's personal life. And also if you stayed there someone would be getting punched in the face, and here’s a hint. it wasn’t going to be you.

—————————————

“Did you say sorry at least?” Isabel ask as you lay upside down on her bed, letting the blood flow rush to your head to try to forget about what Josie now calls “they great water incident” that happened last week

"Yeah, I did," you reply with a sigh, your voice muffled from your upside-down position. “kinda.. i dunno. I mean you should’ve seen the way that becky, bexar, what ever the fuck her name is held onto her”

P.J shoves a handful of chips into her mouth and shrugs “i say kill the bitch”

Josie tosses a pillow at her face and huffs “We already have one murderous charge against us, we don’t need another”

Isabel nods in agreement. "Exactly. We'll figure this out without resorting to murder,"

“fine” P.J huffs holding her hands in the air “but just know that i know people”

“mhmm” you hum as you launch yourself back into an upright position on the bed stealing chips from P.J’s bowl.

As the group starts debating whether han solo or darth vader would be better in bed, you can’t help but wonder at this exact moment what hazel is doing.

——————————————

Hazel sits on her bed in her apartment talking about how the frilled shark can unhinge their jaw and eat prey at least twice their size as the red head sits and stares at her.

Hazel has never been one for social cues, she sincerely honestly thought that Rebecca just needed a friend, and sure they made out at the party but in her defense her face looked similar to yours in the midst of her 6 shots.

So here they are in Hazels apartment, Hazel blabbering about the eel-shark abomination (that she most definitely didn’t spend five hours researching after finding out about it)

“Rebecca? did you hear what i said” she stops and tilts her head with wide eyes

Rebecca nods and turns to Hazel “mhm- yeah the shark is like- long or some shit”

“you seem distracted” the brunette mutters “and it’s not called a long shark it’s called a frilled shark because-“ her sentence is interrupted when she hears Rebecca let out a drawn out sigh and move closer to Hazel.

“Yeah that’s kinda gross Hazey and i’m bored so how about we have some fun…”

“i don’t know what you mean-“ hazel starts before the girl lifts her shirt off and suddenly Hazel realizes why this girl has been being so nice to her.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," Hazel stammers, her voice tinged with unease as she shifts uncomfortably on the bed.

“come on baby” Rebecca whines as she crawls into an unwilling Hazels lap “I’ve heard how good you are in bed”

And it’s true, Hazel was amazing in bed and she has had her fair share of hookups, but usually she knows about them before.

"Rebecca, I... I really don't think this is a good idea," Hazel insists, her voice shaky as she gently tries to push Rebecca away. "I'm not interested in anything like that right now."

“shhh” Rebecca whispers out as she slams her lips against Hazels and suddenly everything seems too much, Rebecca’s lips are wet, the lights are too bright, the AC is too loud. Panic grips her as she struggles to push Rebecca away, her thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion.

"Stop," Hazel manages to choke out, her voice barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears. She pushes against Rebecca's chest with all her strength, her heart pounding with urgency.

Rebecca pulls back, frustration evident on her face. "What's wrong?" she demands, her voice tinged with irritation.

Hazel's chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, her mind reeling with a flood of emotions. "I... I told you to stop," she says, her voice trembling

Rebecca's expression darkens, her features contorted with anger as she takes a step forward. "You're just playing hard to get,"

Hazel manages to push Rebecca off her lap and quickly stands up, putting some distance between them.

"I think it's best if you leave," she says firmly, her voice trembling slightly with the effort to maintain composure.

With a frustrated huff, Rebecca storms out of the room, leaving Hazel alone with her racing thoughts and pounding heart. As she sinks onto the bed she grabs her phone with shakey hands and presses your contact then the call button.

“Hey what’s up” your voice bellows out from Hazels phone

“Hey i don’t know what-“

“HAHA JK this is my voice mail, leave a message or don’t i don’t care” your voice interrupts and Hazel can’t help the tears that fall down her face

“Hey..i don’t know if you’ll see this but Rebecca was here and i thought we were just friends, i mean i know i kissed her but i was drunk and..anyways we were talking and-“ Hazels voice cracks “-and she climbed on me and i told her to get off but she didn’t and- and she kissed me and maybe it’s my fault but..i don’t know what the point of calling you is because i’m pretty sure you hate me. I dunno, i just needed to tell someone.”

She presses the hang up button and brings her knees to her chest letting out a sob. How could she have been so stupid? Flash backs of when her dad would buy her these new suits and buttons up because he knew you hated dresses, but then make her get dressed in front of him flashed back into her mind.

Despite her best efforts to push those memories aside, they continue to haunt her, casting a shadow over her as she cries herself eventually to sleep.

———————————

it’s not until two days later that you see the voice mail, you’re sitting in your biology class with your airpod in when you click the play button.

“What the fuck?!” you blurt out when it finishes and suddenly all eyes are on you.

You smile sheepishly as you gather all of your belongings and rush out of the classroom calling P.J

after three rings she answers with a “I’m talking to this really hot chick so this better be important”

“You remember when we said that we weren’t going to kill anyone anymore”

P.J hums “well YOU ALL said that, i never actually agreed to it”

“Yeah well…it’s time for some killing..or at least seriously maiming”

as you explained the situation to P.J, the last thing she said before she hung up was

“let’s go kick some leprechaun ass”

————————————

Okay so YOU didn’t kick some leprechaun ass, P.J insisted she could take Rebecca herself and you assuming it went well because as you were driving (well over the speed limit) to Hazels house you receive a message from P.J saying “i’m like 75% sure she’s still alive, anyways if police come questioning you, say a rabid bear attacked her”

You chose not to question her further.

You get to Hazels house and you take a deep breath, you’ve never been good at comforting people, usually you just pat their back and give them water. You assume that probably won’t work for this situation .

Taking a deep breath, you exit your car and make your way to Hazel's apartment. Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of the situation bearing down on you with each passing moment.

you knock on the door three times fast, two slow, that was your signature knock for her since middle school. As the door swings open, you're greeted by the sight of Hazel, her eyes red-rimmed from tears. Without a word, you pull her into a tight embrace, holding her close.

“y-you came-“ Hazel mutters out as you pull away and she wipes her eyes

“yeah of course haze, im sorry i didn’t see the voice mail till today”

Hazel nods, her expression grateful as she steps back, allowing you to enter her apartment. As you settle into the living room, Hazel gestures for you to take a seat on the couch beside her. You can sense her hesitancy, so you squeeze her hand and softly smile.

“you can talk to me about whatever, you know that right haze?”

Hazel meets your gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions—vulnerability, fear, and a glimmer of hope. With a shaky breath, she begins to recount the events of that night, pouring out her heart and soul to you.

And all you saw was fucking red. How the fuck could someone do this to her Hazel, her sweet, beautiful, funny Hazel?

Your heart pounds in your chest as Hazel's words sink in, each one feeling like a blow to your own sense of justice. Anger simmers beneath the surface as you listen to the betrayal she endured, your grip on her hand tightening instinctively.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you meet Hazel's gaze with determination burning in your eyes. "Hazel, I am so sorry that you had to go through that," you say, your voice firm but gentle. "But I promise you, we will get through this together. I won't let anyone hurt you like that again."

Hazel coughs out a laugh and looks at you with wet eyes “That’s supposed to be my line”

You smile softly at her response, a flicker of warmth spreading through your chest. "Well, consider it borrowed for now," you say, returning her gaze with sincerity. "Because I mean every word of it. I'm here for you, Hazel, no matter what."

In that moment, as you sit together in quiet solidarity, you know that your bond with Hazel runs deeper than words can express. And with that unspoken understanding, you both find solace in each other's presence.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan fanfiction #josie bottoms #wlw post #pj bottoms #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #Sad hazel callahan #annoying reader #it gets more interesting i promise #the reader gets less annoying in the next chapter #angst with a happy ending #heavy topics

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twstbookclub · 8 months ago

Text

Fatal Attraction

Summary: Two lives stripped away in a moment's glance before they could even enjoy the gift of love presented in front of them. Caused by strife and wrath, this tragic tale is not one to be taken lightly. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Azul Ashengrotto, Romeo and Juliet, angst, heavy angst, character death, be warned this is depressing Word count: 6,201

I'm gonna totally true here, I had so much fun writing Azul's angst fic, because I took one of my favorite pieces of literature and turned it into a fic-esque work. So, this takes inspiration from Romeo and Juliet, specifically the 1996 version of "Romeo + Juliet" with Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. That version is a lot more modernized to use guns and drugs, etc but I tried my best to minimize all of that to give a less TW tag. I did take some dialogue from the actual literary piece and translated it into modern language, BUT NOT TOO MUCH cause it was honestly really hard 😭

6k words is insane to me because it's more than Malleus or Sebek

I am so sorry Azul stans

Lights illuminate the quiet streets at night, while the city comes alive during the day. However, two rival mafias operate in the town, hidden from the ordinary citizen's eye. Amidst the danger, a casino is the only place where people can forget their problems, but two lovers only need each other for peace.

Azul Ashengrotto is a hitman and negotiator for one of the mafia factions. Well known for his work within the organization and occasional work as a dealer in the casino, Azul is as cunning and deceptive as they come, but it's just his nature.

Azul strolls around the casino with his usual smirk, basking in the glory of a successful negotiation with a company. The other casino staff congratulate him, but he brushes it off, knowing it's all part of his job.

“There’s no need to congratulate me! It is simply my duty as a negotiator.”

After setting his things down, he jokes with some of the casino staff before heading off to prepare for the evening.

Sitting in the garden of your home, you sigh and admire the flowers as the day starts. The day feels long, and sadness makes it feel even longer. You have always been kept within the property of your home. You’re a child of a mafia organization, but your father is hellbent on keeping you from the outside world. You need more, but where could you get that without permission? Suddenly, during your train of thought, a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, good morning, cos," said the voice, playfully interrupting your thoughts.

"It’s still morning?" you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“The day’s barely begun?” Asked Cater, confused.

“Oh, Seven, this day feels too long and dull.”

“But it’s a good day! What sadness lengthens your hours?” Cater asked, trying to sound playful to lighten that solemn look in your eyes.

“Having to sit here and waste away makes my days long and dull, cousin.”

Cater sighs and tries to speak, but your mother calls for you with an alarmed voice. Shrill screams of your name echo, reaching the sky from how loud she is.

You hurriedly ascend the staircase to the second floor, stopping at the middle platform where your mother stood with pinched eyebrows and a subtle frown.

“Madam, I’m here. Is something the matter?”

“Finally! Come! We have something important to discuss. Cater—you can leave,” she said, pushing Cater away. Your mother paused as if something dawned on her at that moment. She shook her head and hastily added, “Wait! Cater, come back! You’re part of this, as well.”

You and Cater rushed to your bedroom and were made to sit on your bed. Maids rushed inside your chambers, and you found yourself being tugged around by each one. The familiar sensation of a brush and the smell of powder filled the room. The sound of rustling fabric and barked orders disturbed the silence.

“Despite what your father says, you are of age. You should go out more—find someone to give you thrills in life!” Your mother exclaimed, helping herself to sit at your vanity table. “I’ve been your mother for many years now, and I’m deeply concerned about your… self-isolation. This is only what I think is best!”

The rest of that conversation was mostly your mother telling you how “the world is your oyster” and that you should take advantage of it. You could only listen until she was tired of lecturing you and walked off to do other things. It ended with Cater helping you get ready.

“Alright. You heard the woman. You’re lucky that I know exactly where to take you,” Cater says with a sigh and starts looking through your closet for you.

The sound of shuffling cards, chips clattering on the tables, and cheers from winners rang through the different halls and rooms. Different themes exist on every floor depending on the games. A floor filled with different slot machine games was filled with neon lights and bright colors to accommodate the vibe. One of them had restaurants galore for each type of economy class that was visiting. Vibrant, blinding colors greeted you, and the mind could easily be overwhelmed by the sight. It smelled of cigarettes and smoke everywhere, and servers held trays of crystalline glasses filled with golden champagne.

Cater brought you to a casino to de-stress. He was familiar with this place, so he knew you’d be okay here. You walked around independently since Cater left you to play a round of Hearts with others he knew.

You watched how people crowded around the poker and baccarat tables. There was a mix of emotions lingering in the casino air: concentrated, frustrated, happy, and angry to name a few. When you turned to another section, you leaned against a pillar and looked in front of you, meeting a pair of bluish-purple eyes.

He was looking at you, too. He looked—

Gorgeous.

You stepped behind the pillar and poked your head out enough just for your eyes to meet his own again. The stranger gave you a modest smile and a gaze so fine that you just had to smile back. Dressed in a black button-up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, fabric fitting his frame as two top buttons were open.

His hair was a pretty gray, and the beauty mark under his lip made his features come together like a perfect painting. His smile grew wider, and he looked away. Then you felt your cheeks grow hot.

It was an unfamiliar feeling. One only your maids and mother would describe to you as love, but is this really what it was? It felt right, but it was too new to confirm true.

When you met his eyes again, he had his hand out for you to take. You looked at the floor momentarily before moving closer and letting your palm touch his, and he guided you to sit at his table.

You looked around, then noticed it was a table of blackjack. Hmm… a simple game. He didn’t let go of your palm and dealt the cards with his free hand. You smiled softly and stared at how he held your hand as if you were glass.

“You do realize that holding a stranger’s hand for this long is not normal,” you said while looking into his eyes, prompting a laugh to escape his lips

“Well, dear stranger, what is normal? It’s certainly not us.”

“How so?” you asked as you tried to slip your hand away again, but the gesture was met with a firm grip.

“Any other person would’ve walked away from a man with wandering eyes,” he said while leaning closer to you, but you moved away with a smile.

“Would it not be stranger if we were closer than this? Though, I don’t wish to interrupt how you are dealing with this game.”

“Oh? Do you wish to be closer? Closing the distance is not a problem to me.” His offer was tempting, but the words your mother spoke of flashed through your mind. Maybe this is something you should be doing?

“I… can allow that,” you whispered loud enough to reach his ears, quite confident that this was something you wanted

“Then stay while I deal as I please,” he whispered as he leaned closer, noses brushing for a moment before you moved away and stood from the chair you were in.

“Oh,” you laughed playfully and went towards the nearby bar, and he followed you without a complaint, “what a tease. I must say, you’re very forward and quick to act.”

“Wasting no time is what I do best,” he said, following you, watching your movements. “People call me charming and witty, but no praise will amount to anything if I fail to leave an impression on you. Don’t leave me feeling this empty, darling.”

“Why empty? Is the time spent with me so far not fulfilling enough?”

The man placed his fingers under your chin and made you look at him, then he took off his glasses in a swift move. “No, and I won’t be satisfied until I can do this...”

You felt a smile creep up as he pulled you closer and gave you a gentle kiss, only starting. After that gesture, you looked at him and kept your composure.

“Better,” Azul said after that short kiss, a smug look on his face, but he didn’t let you go.

You were a bit surprised by the feeling, but you couldn’t complain. “Is it?”

“Very. It makes me want more…” He whispered before kissing you again, this time letting it linger much longer.

“You kiss as if you learned from a book,” you spoke softly after breaking it, but he only moved lower towards your ear and neck.

“Hey, we can’t do this. As much as I enjoy your company, you are a mere stranger at the end of the day,” you said and pushed him back lightly, then tried to walk off. The man moved closer again and sat you down on a bar stool.

His lips found yours again, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. Your body could only respond to the kiss almost instantly. His hands didn’t let go of your waist, yet your own were on the nape of his neck and shoulder.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but you snapped out of it once Cater called your name. “Hello, Earth to cousin? We have to go!”

Cater looked at the man whose arms you were in and sighed in disappointment, clicking his tongue and pulling you away. “Come on!”

While getting pulled away, you kept turning around to watch as the man followed you, a determined look on his face as he tried to catch up. You were pulled up the stairs to the floor above and joined with the bodyguards you arrived with.

The man remained at the bottom of the stairs, but he stared at you in disbelief.

“His name is Azul Ashengrotto, a hitman from the mafia your family fights against all the time! He’s the right-hand man,” Cater whispered to you, and you felt the smile on your face disappear. You stared down at the man but couldn’t utter a word.

“Is that…? No—they can’t be,” Azul whispered, still in disbelief.

After staring momentarily, you were pulled away, and Azul had to follow again. This continued, even with your head turning back a few times, just to meet the man following at a distance.

Azul stood at the casino door while you left, watching as your car left with a regretful expression in his eyes. “Not knowing and finding out too late—how the hell did we end up finding each other this way?” he said to himself as you stared back at him from the moving car, then he went back into the casino grounds.

After arriving home, you walked around your garden under the moonlight and sighed softly. You moved yourself to squat in front of the pool at the end of the concrete path, looking up at the moon.

“Azul Ashengrotto… Who could he really be? What does his name have to do with anything?”

“The group that rivals my family name, but what is in that name? It’s not a hand, foot, or any other part belonging to me.” You stare down at your reflection in the water and smile softly at the thought of that man you had a slight moment with at the casino.

You stand up and sigh, “Should he tell me he doesn’t like it, I would change it in a heartbeat—”

“Then should we change that name?”

You spin around and scream as he puts his hands on your arms, but the shock causes you to fall back into the pool with him. You quickly come up to the surface and spit out the water in your mouth, then stare at the pale indigo eyes on you.

“What are you doing here!? Did you follow me? If they see you, they’ll murder you!” You whispered loudly because of the panic, but your reaction made Azul laugh.

“That is the least of my worries.”

“But you’re the Ashengrotto, an ally of my mortal enemy—”

“I will neither, if you dislike it. What can they do to me?” He whispers the last part, moving closer and touching your cheek. “I was able to see you again. I’m satisfied with that. It’s better to be killed by their hatred than by the torture of not seeing you. You love me and I love you, so let them find me here. I want your love for as long as you’ll allow me to have it.”

You stare at his features for a moment before he kisses you softly, the quiet night enveloping the both of you. It was slow, but you could feel how he felt the same for you as you did him. The more time that passed, the more passion was being shared.

The pool water was warm, but the way he grabbed your hips with one hand and kept your head in place with the other gave you a chill down your spine, simply from how he made you feel.

You pulled back after a while longer and felt your face burning, so you avoided looking at him. “The moon's light can only hide me so well, and now you’ve heard me speak tonight. Do you love me? I know that you’ll say yes, and I will take your word for it.”

You spoke while backing away to get out of the pool, and he followed, leaving kisses on your neck when he could. “If you love me, say it faithfully.”

“I swear by the moon—”

You sighed and pushed him back. “Don’t swear by her ever-changing beauty unless your love has conditions.”

“Then what do I swear by?” Azul asks, looking at you with confusion in his expression.

“Don’t swear at all. If you must, swear on yourself. If it comes from your heart, then I’ll believe you.”

“The love in my heart…” He whispers, then gives you light kisses again, but you quickly break it and turn away.

“Don’t. Although I enjoy this, I will have no joy in this promise tonight. It’s too soon, too rash, and—like a lightning strike—it will be gone too soon,” you said and climbed up the ladder to get out of the water, but his sudden call out made you stop.

“Will you leave me so unsatisfied?”

You turn around and look at him with surprise. “What satisfaction could you have tonight?”

“To tell me that your heart belongs to me”

He was right. He had declared his love for you, but you hadn’t done the same for him. Was this real? You smiled brightly and ran back into his arms, falling into the pool with him again.

“I gave it to you before you even asked!” You exclaimed before falling back in with him, your lips landing against his into an underwater kiss.

Coming up to the surface, you hear Cater calling for you around the house, and you shout. “I’ll be there!” You turn to Azul and pull him out, hurrying him to leave through a secret gate.

“I leave you with a few more words before good night. If you’ll allow me the honor of marriage, let me know tomorrow—in a way that I can visit you—where and what time we’ll marry,” you whisper with a smile and hold his hand through the iron bars of the gate.

Cater shouted again, and you could only shout once again. “I’m on my way!”

“May all of my fortune and my will always follow you. If you do not mean well, I beg you not to argue and leave me alone to grieve. I will send someone over to the casino tomorrow,” you told Azul before letting him go, not before giving him a kiss.

“I am yours, and you are mine. I’ll be happy to hear from you.”

“I hope you have a wonderful night.” You smiled again and ran off, and Azul walked off as well. Shortly after, you gasped to yourself and tried to find him again, rushing towards him.

“Azul!” you called out, catching his attention, and his smile only brightened your heart. “At what hour should I send for someone?”

“By 9 in the morning.”

“I won’t let you down. It’s an eternity until then.” You laugh softly and pull your necklace off you, giving it to him. He took it gladly and tightened his fist to avoid losing it.

“Good night, darling.” He said and walked away, looking back at you a few times until he was completely out of sight.

“A bittersweet sorrow that is parting, that I shall say ‘good night’ until tomorrow.” You said with a smile. Finally, you ran off into your home.

The next day, you were home alone, and you waited with anticipation for your cousin to arrive back to you. As soon as the door opened to your bedroom, you jumped up and saw Cater come in with a tired expression.

“Cater!”

“Oh, hey, cos,” he says and tucks himself into your bed, your expression turning into disappointment.

“Cater! What does my love say?”

“Your love? Oh! That negotiator guy,” he says, “… Hey, where are your parents?” Cater asked, looking at you with a cheeky smile.

“Where are my parents?” You sigh from frustration and pull the blankets off the kid. “Don't keep it from me any longer! What did Azul say!?”

Cater laughs before standing from the bed and going to your closet. He looks at your more formal clothing and then picks something out for you. “When you go out today, meet him at the church. There, a man waits to marry you later today.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement as you heard the news. You took the outfit into your hands and left to change, finding even more reason to leave your home today.

Arriving at the church, you noticed the cars parked in front were all the same. When you entered the wide chapel, your eyes instantly met his, and the warm golden lights illuminated the design.

You had always been here before, but how the room lit up now was mesmerizing. Seeing Azul made the moment even better because it was only you and him. You made your way down before meeting with him, and how sweet he was.

Speaking vows and promises while looking at your love in the eyes, you could finally understand why a wedding day was so important. You knew you would never forget this day even if fate decided to take you away tomorrow.

His hands held yours and carefully slipped a silver band on your finger. That was it. You were officially married to him.

“I love you,” you whispered, seeming as if now was a dream that would slip through your fingers.

“I love you too,” he responded, giving you a kiss to conceal it together.

Azul had to leave after that because his negotiation work was urgent, but he still ensured you arrived home safely.

Under that guise, Azul arrived at his own mafia’s headquarters. The room was a bit tense as he walked into his boss’ office, only to find a man tied on the marble floor. The room was dim and added to the atmosphere that the organization strived for.

At the snap of a finger, the man became unmasked, to reveal one of your relatives. Azul looked surprised but quickly had to hide it.

“Boss. Is… this him?” Azul asked, looking his boss in the eye, but he was feeling a cold sweat for once.

“That’s right. You already know what you have to do. Don’t disappoint me, Ashengrotto.”

Azul nodded once and gestured to the guards to follow him with their victim, and he left behind them with a tense feeling.

Your relative? One whom he now shared names with through his dearly beloved, but did he really want to kill this man?

This man was a spy. Playing his organization like a game of chess, he could get away with it for a while, but his boss knew the truth from the beginning. The boss wasn’t an idiot, they wouldn’t be in the place they're in now if that was the case, so it wasn’t surprising.

This was different now, though.

Azul stared at this man’s back with hesitation. He didn’t want to do this to you, but this was his job. You knew that, too, but that wasn’t an excuse. Yet, if he didn’t do this, it was his life on the line along with this man.

You sat in your room while staring up at the statues of the Seven in your room, a warm smile on your face at the thought of your new husband, a lingering sadness that you couldn’t spend time with him.

“Oh, Seven… If only the stars could show me my husband now. If anything should happen, may the heavens take his soul and place it among the stars, so his radiance could illuminate the night, that not even the moon could compare,” you whispered to yourself while imagining Azul, causing you to smile more than you already were. “If only I could see him soon..”

Azul stood in front of the captured man with a bitter look in his eye. He called the guards off to be alone in the room, still hesitating about the choice in front of him.

“You know, you’re trembling… it’s obvious, buddy.” The man said with a laugh, his busted face still dripping some blood onto the floor.

Azul’s eyes widened, his voice slightly trembling. “What? Don’t say a word. Do not provoke me.”

“Why? Is the big man, Ashengrotto, finally scared?”

“Shut up—”

“What a baby. How the hell are you the right-hand man, if you can’t pull the trigger?”

“Don’t say anything else!”

“In my organization, you would’ve been killed for being this weak!”

“You don’t know a damn thing!” Azul yelled, swiftly taking out his gun and putting it to the man’s head. “Do you not wish to be saved? I can do that. I don’t want to do this. Not for…” His voice trailed off, a lump forming in his throat.

“Don’t be fucking weak. Do it!” The man yelled, messing around with the assassin in front of him. This man knew what he was doing but didn’t know the consequences.

The gun was taken off its safety as Azul took a deep breath, putting his personal emotions aside and speaking quieter. “To my beloved relative by name… May the Seven help you.”

The man grew confused before he was met with darkness. The sound of the gun echoing through the large room was enough of a message that it was over, but guilt started to take over the new silence.

“Shit… What the hell did I do?’ Azul whispered to himself before dropping the gun and staring at the corpse in front of him with disbelief.

You stared at the statues once again with a confused look on your face, at a loss for how to react. It had been a few hours, but you had just been told the news about your relative being killed by your husband’s hand.

“Say it isn’t so? Seven, don’t betray my heart this way… Am I supposed to criticize my husband? Speak ill of him? For the love he had for me, am I supposed to think of him as a traitor? Give up his word for actions?” You spoke to yourself, pleading with the gods above to give you an answer, but you received nothing.

Your heart ached at the deafening silence, and not even your ancestors could help you in this. It felt like your bloodline was shaming you for confiding in a sworn enemy, but you couldn't control who you could love...

Was it truly so easy to blame yourself for this?

Azul had quickly become a target under your family’s watchful eye. He had to do something, and quickly. Azul stared out the window from his office before he took a breath and fixed his glasses, only coming up with one answer.

“Guards, take me to them. I’ll be staying the night. In the meantime, prepare a burial.” Azul said calmly before grabbing his coat and leaving quickly.

You sat on your bed and tilted your head, hugging one of the pillows while thinking. Your mother left you to rest for the night, and you took the opportunity to lock yourself in. You let out a sigh and slowly stood up.

“Am I supposed to deny him? Divorce him for what he did? What a cruel thing to do to someone I love,” you said to yourself, but then you heard footsteps come in through your window.

The sound immediately caught your attention, and you were met with Azul standing there with regret in his eyes. You slowly went closer without your eyes moving away, scared that he would disappear.

“I’m sorry,” Azul whispered, his already sad eyes becoming glassy with the tears he couldn’t keep back anymore. “I swear to you and the Seven above, I didn’t want to do it—”

“I believe you. I can see it in your eyes. It was either that… or death, right? I know how this business goes, but that still won’t stop me from loving you.” You responded just as quietly, then looked over his body to make sure he didn’t have any injuries. Just doing this made your heart race.

Your hands slid down his coat to take it off, the ruffling sound of it hitting the ground mixing with the sounds of breathing and pattering rain hitting the ground outside. It made you a bit relieved that he could reach you before the rain began, but your heart rate wasn’t slowing down.

You loosened his tie and took off a few buttons so he could relax, but you were nervous. You guess… it’s kind of late to be nervous when you’re already married to him. Regardless, your hands just went with the flow, even if you didn’t have any experience in this aspect.

Azul watched your movements carefully before he leaned closer, taking off his glasses in the process. Your eyes met his indigo irises, your hands made their way to his neck and shoulder, and your heart was about to explode.

You willingly closed the space and kissed him as you knew he was about to do the same to you, but he returned it so gently. It was different from the time you met at the casino or in the pool that same night, but it felt perfect. Neither of you wanted to let go.

Morning came too fast. Azul woke up to the harsh reality of what was going to happen today. Any slight movement he made easily woke you up, but you could only give a small groan since you weren’t ready to get up yet. That noise made him smile and laugh before he sat up to see how you slowly opened your eyes

“It’s too early, and not time for you to go.” You whispered with a tired voice, still exhausted from the events of the day prior. Azul quickly moved to hover above you within the blink of an eye as your words caused him to feel warm.

“Then let’s not get out of these sheets—delay the morning by never coming out. I can appreciate just how divine my spouse looks while you look up at me like that.” Azul began playfully, slowly becoming genuine and affectionate with his words.

Before you could respond, Cater ran into your room and closed the door behind him, causing Azul to fall off your bed from surprise. “Your mother is on the way! Quick!” He said with panic, swiftly moving around to help out.

Azul got all of his things and you let him escape from the window, following him onto the balcony. He pulled you into a kiss for a moment before letting you go. “Stay safe. I’m sorry for what I did.”

You shook your head and gave him a gentle smile, placing your lips against his for a few seconds. “I love you. I love you more than anything. My life is yours.”

“My love…” Azul said somberly and sighed, placing a small kiss on your forehead. You felt the emotion he was feeling by just the way he was acting, and it left you confused. You looked at him with concern before giving him your ring from the day before.

You kissed the engraving on the band before placing the ring in his palm. “Just be safe. I will try to find out if something grave is being planned in hopes of stopping it.”

Azul just stayed quiet before he pushed you back inside your bedroom and quietly left. That was it between you two for now. You stared at the bed in front of you as your stomach began to turn in a bad way, but you could only whisper something to yourself as you fixed the robe you had put on when rushing.

“Letting someone out and bringing light in—why do I have a feeling that it will be in vain?”

Azul stood in the church that had become special to him less than twenty-four hours ago, holding a small bottle in the palm of his hand, along with your ring and necklace beside it.

There was a war going on outside. He was the head that they wanted to capture for killing your father’s brother, an eye for an eye, and he didn’t want you to be brought into it. He was thankful that you could forgive him and still keep your love, but he didn’t deserve it after making you grieve for the loss of a relative and the loss of his presence beside yours.

He made sure to kiss the ring and the cross charm from your necklace, before putting them both on and staring up at the painted murals from the church’s ceiling, a soft expression at the memory of exchanging vows that were so fresh to him.

Without much hesitance, Azul popped open the small container and dropped some pills into his palm. His boss gave him these after he proposed to fake his death until this was over, composing a plan once a certain number of their kin had been killed in his stead.

One, two, three. Pills disappeared as Azul swallowed them. The drugs were quick, as he felt his heart begin to slow down and his breathing was coming to struggle for air. The church echoed the sounds of his quick suffering, until turning as quiet as the sleeping city he committed his sins.

In the morning, Cater ran into your room to find you clutching your chest, but not a single tear in your eyes. You were more shocked than anything. Your father stopped the war at the moment of finding out that their target was dead. Your husband was dead.

Cater, who was breathing heavily from running, went over to your side with a saddened look, letting out a sigh at the immense despair he could feel around you. “Cos, I’m sorry, but now… what’s your plan?”

Silence.

Nothing was your plan. How could there be a plan? The love you harbored couldn’t be shared with the one you married anymore. You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes, a hidden tear finally dropping down your cheek.

Cater noticed your silence and went to lock your door, “He’s laid to rest at the church. I’ll take you to him.”

Your body was simply guided by Cater now. He dressed you the best way that he could, in a way that your parents wouldn’t find suspicious. You hadn’t uttered a word or looked at him, but instead kept yourself together as if it was taking its time to affect you.

Your parents believed that you were grieving over your uncle’s death, so they left you alone. With that, Cater could take you over to the church during the sunset hour.

When you arrived, he guided you in and let your eyes lay upon the empty cathedral. The door closed behind you as Cater didn’t step in to leave you on your own. Finally being by yourself, you could relax as tears filled your eyes at the sight of the bed at the end of the aisle.

You slowly made your way closer and closer, each step making a sound that echoed through the space. The closer you got, the more detailed his body became. With gentleness and care, your hand wrapped around his and it felt weird.

“My love, death hasn’t taken your warmth yet?” You speak quietly and caress his cheek while holding back your tears. “You look as if life is still within you, and a peaceful sleep is all that affects you,” you said while leaning down to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Even your lips are as warm as the day. How precious…”

You went quiet after and closed your eyes, letting out a small sob before covering your eyes with your hands. The tears ran down your cheeks before being wiped away, not wanting to cry too bad after.

“What a cruel world we were born into,” you say quietly to your husband’s body before you look up at the ceiling above you, memories flashing through your head. A smile finally showed on your face at the thought of Azul, like his face and name always had these days.

You looked down as you held something in your hand. A small dagger with a black shine to it. You placed the tip of the blade at your chest and pierced yourself with it, the pain not being at all the same as losing the love of your life. You only let out a small wince and looked down at your husband, only to find him with a look of horror and his eyes wide open.

“No, you—” Azul started but quickly reacted to sit up and pull you to lay down where he was, struggling breaths coming from you as the blood seeped out of your wound. Azul tried to take it out, but your grip on the handle was strong even though your body was growing weak.

“What—” You whispered, tears falling down from your eyes as you tried to think, but you could only stare at Azul with a blurry vision from how fast your life was being taken away from you. “Why…?”

“Why? To protect you. Why would you follow me?” Azul asked with tears coming up to his own eyes. He held you tightly as if that would stop the slow death you were experiencing, but he wasn’t doing anything. He couldn’t. “Why wouldn’t you want to live?”

“Live…” You whispered, your slow blinking accompanied by a small smile only made this more bitter than it was, a gasp coming from you before you spoke again. “I couldn’t live without you.”

These words were soon followed by silence. A quiet breath was let go from you. Your body grew limp and still. Your hands had finally let go of the dagger that had you inflicted on yourself, but it was too late.

Azul just stared in a still stance, still holding you. He waited for something. Anything. A sign of life. Something to check if you were still there with him. When he didn’t get anything, he let out loud sobs while holding your lifeless body close to him, even putting out a few screams from the agony that surrounded his heart.

Every sound and movement he made echoed and pierced his ears with desperation and regret. If only he had told you the plan. If only he ran away with you instead, you would still be alive and smiling at him.

After his moment of grieving, he looked up and down at you, but then his eyes stopped at the blood-stained clothes you had on. His eyes locked onto the dagger before he carefully pulled it out and stared at the blade.

The question he asked you earlier wasn’t in his mind anymore. Even if he stayed alive, he would die at the hands of your family once they realized that he was alive and that you died with him beside you. He couldn’t live without you either.

He stared at you for a moment before he took your hand into his and he closed his eyes. He placed the dagger against his neck and let out a breath before his body fell right next to yours, and a deafening silence befell them.

Two lovers. Both alike in dignity, now gone in mere moments from their organization’s strife. Young adults with so much more to life and love to share, could not stop the rage of others. A love story that ended so tragically changed the outcome of the respectful lives that they could’ve had.

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typicalopposite · 7 months ago

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Soooooo this story has been kicking my BUTT mainly this first chapter and the build up to the actual story 👀 but i finally finished so does manyone wanna read chapter one of angsty break up/helicopter crash fic?

PLZ READ TAGS FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS

𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚃𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝚘 𝙵𝚕𝚢 (𝙸 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕)

BuckTommy Fic | M | Chapter 1/? | 6713 words

Link to Prologue | ao3

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎: 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙… 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜

In all of Buck’s thirty three years there has never been another time that he recalls feeling so secure and at peace with his life. So at ease with not just himself, but with the happenings around him. Which is saying a lot given everything going on around him.

Gerard makes work miserable with his constant passive aggressiveness, and his snide comments… Buck knew to expect racism and sexism. He also knew to prepare himself for the blatant homophobia. It still wasn’t enough to prepare him for the first time Gerrard called him princess.

They have all filed complaint after complaint. Bobby is working tirelessly with the fire chief (whose head was gone over in bringing Gerrard back to the 118) to get him reinstated and back home. The team is rallying around each other to lessen the blows made at each of them by the person who is supposed to lead them, but only cares to bully and berate them.

But… at the end of his shift, Buck has Tommy to run home to. Not that they are actually living together— they do spend almost every night they have off together, though. He is the light at the end of a long dark tunnel. The calm after Buck’s 12, 24, or 48 hour storm. He is the breath of fresh air after inhaling far too much smoke. He is… just perfect.

Buck can’t believe how happy he is, how in love he is. The true meaning of happiness? Well Buck thinks it might just be tucked away safe in that soft loving smile Tommy is always giving him. Buck sees their whole lives flash before his eyes when he’s gifted that smile. Years and years, and years of living with this happiness? He definitely could get used to that. He is so lucky.

Or so he thought….

Their shift is (finally) almost over. Buck is laid out on the couch, staring at his phone. He isn’t even aware he’s smiling at his text thread with Tommy until Chimney comes up and knocks his feet off so he can sit down. “There’s only one person I know that could have Buckaroo smiling like that,” he says, his own cheesy grin taking over his face. “You heading over there after work?”

“Reverse,” Buck answers, hoping if he’s nonchalant enough the ridiculous blush he still gets talking about Tommy won’t show up. “He’s at my place—he’s uh… getting dinner started.” And there’s the damn blush anyway, running up his neck.

“I thought you said Tommy was a terrible cook,” Hen says, joining them and sitting on the arm of the couch behind Buck’s head. She tries to sneak a peek at the conversation but Buck drops the phone to his chest.

He sits up and looks at her offended. “Okay, one… eye’s to yourself, thank you very much.” She rolls her own eyes and picks up the throw pillow to hit him with. “Two… I would never say that!”

“And yet you’re not saying he’s not,” Chimney says with a smirk.

“He’s— he’s improving.”

The bell goes off. They all groan. “Better tell the wife you’re gonna be late Buckley,” Gerrard calls from the foot of the stairs.

The ride to the fire is quiet.

No one can ever say anything without Gerrard chiming in with his unwanted two cents. So they sit in silence unwilling to give him anything to use as fuel for another of his hate-filled remarks. Except today, Gerrard decides to initiate the conversation. “So Buckley,” he says; his lips curl up into the beginnings of one of his snarky smirks. “Have you ever lost someone on the job?”

His eyes zero in on his target; the bait to what Buck is certain will be some kind of trap dangling in front of him. “Haven’t we all? Kind of par for the course with this line of work,” Buck answers.

“Yeah, well, you have your typical run of the mill losses on the job; then you have the ones that tend to be a little more—” he pauses to lick his lips, like he’s savoring what he’s about to say. “—personal.” He continues to stare at Buck, whose skin feels like it's crawling under the intensity of it. He waits a beat and then: “Kinard ever tell you about his?”

There it is… the other shoe, heavy as it drops.

Buck doesn’t respond. He has heard a couple of Tommy’s work related horror stories; Buck has shared some of his own. Mostly they just leave work at their respective stations and spend the limited amount of time they get together not dwelling on the bad aspects of being a first responder. “Yeah I’ve heard them,” Buck says, hoping it will be dropped at that; or maybe they will get to the fire… He doesn’t think it’s ever taken this long to arrive on scene before.

“So he’s told you about Jay, then?”

Buck feels his face drop. He feels his brows furrow in confusion and his mouth pulls down before he can stop it. Everyone in the engine looks confused.

Gerrard, on the other hand, looks overly amused. “Ohh, guess he still doesn’t like to talk about him,” he says, and the engine screeches to a stop.

The fire is pretty intense, and everyone is drained afterwards. Thankfully, Gerrard doesn’t mention Tommy—or this Jay person—when they load up for the ride back to the station.

“Get out of your head, Buck…” Hen says quietly. He stops fumbling with the things in his locker, and looks back over his shoulder at her. “You’re letting him get to you. You can’t do that.”

“Yeah, kid, he’s a leech, he feeds on your emotions,” Chimney adds from beside him.

“B- but neither of you know who he’s talking about?”

Hen shakes her head, Chimney shrugs. “Tommy was here before either of us, maybe it was from back then.”

“He’s never mentioned this guy to you?” Eddie asks Buck.

“Never.”

“Then it’s probably no one important,” he continues. “Come on, it’s Tommy! Why would he keep something supposedly big from you?”

Buck’s tongue feels heavy. He wants to say: Maybe because I’m the one who’s not important enough to share it with. He knows that will not go over well with them, so he tucks it away with his other negative thoughts. “You’re probably right…” he does say.

“Of course I’m right,” Eddie smirks.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Ravi calls out to them as he walks backwards out of the station. “But I’m ready to get out of here! I love you all, but I need my two days of not seeing you.”

“I’ll see you boys later,” Hen says to Buck and Eddie. She is going to meet up with Karen and Denny so they can spend the day with Mara at the Buckley-Han household. It’s all she has talked about almost the entire shift.

Once Hen and Chimney are gone Eddie walks over and leans on the locker next to Buck’s. “Hen’s right, you know,” he says. “You gotta get out of your head about this, man. Before you start overthinking it.”

Buck sighs. He hangs his uniform up, and closes the locker. “Yeah,” he finally replies. “Yeah, I know—I will. It’s fine… I’m fine.”

~~~

A shift passes, then another. Soon it’s been a couple weeks. If Gerrard has plans to follow up his questioning about Tommy, and the accident, and Jay… and Buck not knowing about any of it, he hasn’t acted on them yet.

Maybe everyone was right. Maybe it was just something to get under Buck's skin; plant the seeds of doubt that had never once been present before and set in motion the derailment of the most stable relationship Buck knows he’s ever had. He decides to remove it from the bin of thoughts that he randomly goes through and obsesses over, and fully let it go…

Or, that was the plan, anyway.

By mid September—following a lengthy investigation into exactly how Gerrard was put back in charge of the 118; that ended with multiple people losing their jobs, Gerrard included—Bobby was finally reinstated as their captain. It should be a joyous day. Gerrard is cleaning out his—well it’s no longer his—office. The whole team is gathered outside, ready to give him a great big good riddance for the final time.

Gerrard walks out, passing by each firefighter as if they weren’t even there, head still held high. He stops just as he is about to step out of the station, turns and locks his sight on Buck. “You ever ask Kinard about that accident?” He asks, narrowing his eyes menacingly. “Or are you too scared you might learn Prince Charming isn’t quite as Charming as he seems.”

Buck tenses his jaw, holding it firmly in place, fully prepared to not indulge in his taunting. He’s about to be gone for good; he only has to deal with him for a little bit longer.

Gerrard raises his brows, his smirk bordering on becoming manic. “Don’t believe me? Just ask your buddies. Han and Wilson have plenty of stories of their days as probies working with the real Tommy… before he went sweet.” Again Buck can feel his face furrowing in confusion before he can stop it.

“Don’t listen to him, Buck,” Hen says, putting herself between him and Gerrard. Chimney joins her, their backs to Gerrard who has made no more effort to just get lost (like Buck, and everyone else, wishes he would). “I told you he is just trying to get—”

“Oh, come now Henrietta,” Gerrard scoffs. “Don’t act like he didn’t put you down, and treat you like the maid, and less than him… just like everyone else—well, save for Han of course.” Gerrard turns his attention to Chimney, who is still not looking at him. “You haven’t told him about how Tommy treated you when you started… and only let up once you saved his life.”

“Alright that’s enough,” Bobby says, making his way to the front of the group, right up to Gerrard. “I don’t know what your motive is here, but I think it’s time for you to leave.”

There’s a short lived, but still intense, staring battle between the two men, with the entire team watching and holding their breath. Gerrard flicks his eyes from Bobby to Buck and his damned smirk returns. He doesn’t say another word, just turns and walks away. Ravi lets out a ‘whoop whoop’ causing an uproar of cheers and laughter from the entire 118.

It was a summer of hell under Gerrard, but now it’s over. Life can finally get back to normal… except— except now a can of worms has been opened. “What was he talking about,” Buck asks once the crowd disperses, and it’s just their little group standing by the engine.

Hen groans. “Buck, you’re letting him get to you.”

“But you’re not denying it—”

“Because it’s not important,” Chimney interrupts. “By the time I started Tommy had already been under Gerrard for a while; that man had his hooks so deep in him—in all of them. Besides, he has more than apologized for how he acted back then.”

“You do know he’s part of the reason Gerrard had to leave the 118 in the first place,” Hen adds. “He reported his behavior towards me. That’s the story you should care about, Buck. Or how he helped us with that neighborhood fire; saved Eddie and that kid's lives. Or how he risked his job to help us find Cap and ‘Thena… Not the things he has done that he has long been forgiven for.”

Buck knows it’s a losing argument; he doesn’t think he really wants to argue with them about it anyway. They’re right. Why let all this stuff an old bigot tried to resurface from Tommy’s past dictate their happy present. It shouldn’t matter; it doesn’t matter… if Chimney and Hen forgive him, that’s all that matters.

Except…

Except he knows himself well enough to know he isn’t going to be at ease until he at least figures out what the deal with this accident is all about, and who exactly Jay is.

~~~

“Babe, can I ask you kind of a personal question?”

Tommy leans out around the opened hood of his truck to look at him. “Of course,” he says, furrowing his brows slightly. Buck knows he has probably turned a shade of green from how sick to his stomach he feels about actually approaching this. Especially after being told repeatedly that he shouldn’t. Tommy sets his wrench down and grabs a rag to clean off his hands, walking out of the garage to Buck. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh—yeah, well, that’s just it… I don’t—” Buck pauses, takes a deep breath and just spits it out: “Tommy, who’s Jay?”

Tommy blinks. His face shifts from concerned to confused to something somewhere between anger and annoyance. “Where did you— How did you…” he sighs. “Let me guess. Gerrard?”

“Mhmm,” Buck hums with a small nod.

“That’s just—” Tommy starts, huffing out a sarcastic laugh as he roughly wipes the oil and grease from his hands. “That’s just great,” he finishes, angrily tossing the cloth at the floor. Buck waits patiently; he thinks he owes Tommy that much seeing as whatever—whoever—this is, it’s clearly something Tommy isn’t happy about Gerrard sharing. “I–” Tommy looks at Buck, his eyes suddenly turning red and he quickly wipes at them. “I’m sorry, Evan. I can’t…”

“You can’t?”

Tommy shakes his head hard. “I can’t talk about this–about him, not now… not yet. I–” He inhales sharp and it comes back out a broken sob. Buck is so taken aback, because Tommy rarely ever cries; Buck doesn’t think he’s ever seen him shed more than a few tears, and those were over happy moments.

One time was during some sappy—but with the saddest ending—romcom. Once when he found a dead cat in his backyard. And maybe the most emotional was when Buck slipped up during a particularly passionate kiss and told him that he loved him. Tommy’s face went so red, and Buck began to panic and then profusely apologize until Tommy took his face in his hands and said it back a single tear falling from his eye. Buck wiped it away and leaned back in to continue kissing him.

“Hey,” Buck says, feet quickly moving him across the cement toward Tommy. He slips his arms under Tommy’s, wrapping them around his back and pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay… you don’t have to.”

“I’m—I’m sorry… It’s just… it’s too—”

Buck can feel the tears soaking through his shirt where Tommy has pressed his face to Buck’s shoulder. He feels like such a jerk. “No,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down Tommy’s back. “No, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked. I was letting Gerrard get in my head—I was being stupid…”

“You’re not being stupid, Evan,” Tommy says, muffled against the fabric of Buck’s shirt. “You were curious. I understand… It’s just–” Tommy pulls away, taking a step back. He wraps his own arms around himself, and it shocks Buck how small he seems right now. He slowly lifts his eyes to Buck’s, he looks broken (Buck hates himself for it) but mostly he looks worried. “This is—it’s really personal…” he says. “And I’m just not ready to share it yet.”

“That’s okay,” Buck quickly responds. “I understand, and I won’t bring it up again. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

A wave of relief visibly washes over Tommy’s face. The worried frown turns back into that familiar soft smile, and Buck tells himself he is one hundred percent fine with how this whole conversation turned out.

He is fine not knowing.

He is fine.

~~~

Time passes and it feels like the universe is playing the ultimate prank on one Evan Buckley.

On the outside everything has returned to normal. Everyone’s lives seem to have fallen back in line. Bobby is once again leading them, Hen and Karen get Mara back, Eddie convinces Christopher to come home (and they are both regularly going to therapy about the whole Kim/Shannon of it all), Chimney’s latest appointment shows no lingering effects of the encephalitis… but Buck— Buck is… struggling. He is struggling, and he feels so guilty about it, but he can’t get past it.

If it’s not seeing the name Jay in—damn near constant—passing, it’s hearing random stories about the people Tommy has saved (and knowing somewhere out there is a story of someone significant he didn’t). It’s the little signs, and the messages, and the ads he keeps seeing; an online quiz on ‘how well do you know your partner’, a billboard about getting out of an untrustworthy relationship, a commercial about not keeping secrets.

They mean nothing, he knows that. He’s self-sabotaging, he knows that.

It doesn’t stop him from collecting each one like trading cards and adding them to his bin of thoughts until it’s full and he has to do something or it’s going to overflow and drown him.

“You planning on spending your day off here, Buckaroo?”

“Hmm…” Buck blinks, breaking from his thoughts and looking up from his phone—more specifically from the text that just came in. Chimney is standing in front of him, arms crossed, brows pulled together. “Oh, hey Chim—I was just watching—” but the TV is now off. “Huh? I was watching TV.”

Chimney hums, tucking his hands further under his arms. “Is everything okay,” he asks. “You and Tommy… you good?”

“What? Yeah. We’re— Why— why would you think we weren’t? Has he—”

“Whoa now; calm down,” Chimney laughs, putting his hands up in defense. “Tommy hasn’t said anything. You just seem… distracted. Ever since—” He pauses. “I just want to make sure you’re not still dwelling on the crap Gerrard said.”

“Oh, I—” His phone feels extremely heavy in his hand now. He gets the reminder of the unread text. He should probably say something before Chimney gets suspicious. “I’m fine,” he lies, and it makes his stomach sour instantly.

Chimney doesn’t move—doesn’t look away. “You sure about that?” Buck nods, thinking he might be sick if he tries to say another word. “Okay,” Chimney sighs. “You know, Buck… we all have done things we aren’t proud of. I know I have…” Buck is reminded of an angry fist, and a swollen black eye Chimney apologized for everytime they were alone for almost a year.

He is reminded of a lawsuit he still regrets, and a tipsy kiss that unintentionally spiraled him into his second serious relationship. He is reminded of sudden nerves burying him deep into a closet he hadn’t even realized he had been in all along. He is reminded of reaching out for help spying on his boyfriend because he can’t get out of his own head about something that could very much be nothing.

His phone vibrates; another reminder he has an unread text.

He waits until Chimney disappears down the stairs to look back at his phone.

I’ll be home at 8… see you then

~~~

Buck parks his jeep outside the apartment complex, takes the stairs up to the third floor, and stands awkwardly outside apartment 3C contemplating turning around and running back down before he is spotted. He doesn’t, and instead lifts his hand to knock.

A couple days ago his thought’s overfilled the bin … a couple days ago he could no longer ignore his curiosity … a couple days ago Buck came to one of the only people who doesn’t know Tommy enough to be emotionally invested in this … investigation … Buck decided he needed to go on.

A moment later the door is pulled open, and May is in front of him. “Hey,” she says, her smile mirroring Athena’s. “Come in!”

“Uh— Hey,” Buck says back, subconsciously wiping the sweat forming on his hands, off. “So did— did you find anything?” Her smile fades, she shifts on her feet. “You did… Is it — is it that bad…” he asks, wondering if he will even be able to hear her response over the sudden pounding of his heart.

“It’s not necessarily good,” she replies. He wishes he actually hadn’t been able to hear her. He feels himself start to deflate.

May walks to her room, comes back with her laptop, stalls just as she’s about to hand it to him. “Wait,” she says, pulling the laptop back to her chest and holding it there. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean… why make trouble in paradise when there isn’t any?”

“Is it really paradise if he’s hiding stuff from me?”

May sighs, and opens her laptop. “I guess not,” she says once her password is entered and everything she found is pulled up.

The first thing she shows him is the article released the day of the accident.

Tragedy on the Vincent Thomas Bridge

Unidentified man jumps from bridge into LA Harbor late Tuesday afternoon.

LAFD station 118 responded to calls that a man had climbed over the bridge railing. Witnesses say Thomas Kinard (Pictured above) a firefighter with the 118 was on scene trying to talk the man off the edge before he let go, falling 186 feet into the Harbor below.

Buck looks at the picture of a much younger Tommy, dazed and disheveled, one hand running through his hair. He thinks, I know that look… I’ve had that look. He thinks of Devon falling to the ground from the roller coaster. Suddenly he is regretting everything about this. He clicks to the next article anyway.

LGBTQ+ Community Speak Out On Bridge Suicide

Following the death of Jay Pridgen, a member of the LGBT community, rumors began of prejudices within LAFD Station 118, who were present at the scene of the accident. The rumors are calling the stations Captain, Vincent Gerrard, out for repeatedly exhibiting biased behaviors when dealing with minority groups. When asked, Gerrard had no comment. Also under fire is the first responder who was on the bridge with Pridgen. Kinard is being accused of stalling rather than actually trying to get Pridgen off the edge.

Fire Chief Releases A Statement on Alleged Homophobia Within Station 118

Bridge Tragedy Officially Ruled An Accident

While it’s unclear what Pridgen’s original intentions were when he climbed over the railing of the Vincent Thomas Bridge, Firefighter Thomas Kinard went on record Friday insisting Pridgen did not jump but instead fell to his death. Kinard states he was trying to get to him but was unable to before he slipped from the edge. While there are some who still are hoping for an investigation into LAFD, specifically station 118, Captain Vincent Gerrard says he hopes this new cause of death will allow everyone to move on from this clear and complete accident so his team can get back to their jobs without having to deal with the torches and pitchforks coming for them daily.

“Wow…” Buck says softly. “That’s— That’s a lot.”

“That’s… not all,” May admits, clicking on yet another link. “So even though the accident itself is really terrible, it felt weird that he would hide it from you. I mean Tommy’s part of the community, it’s not like he really let this guy fall because he’s gay… right? So I kept digging and I found… this.” Buck holds his breath, May pulls up a picture. It’s an army Platoon, and upon closer inspection it’s Tommy’s platoon.

“I don’t understand,” Buck says.

“Once I had Jay’s full name I searched it together with Tommy’s… just to see if there were any more articles on the accident, but I found this picture instead.” She scrolls up to reveal the names of the soldier’s; the man in the middle next to Tommy, arm draped over his shoulder holding Tommy tight to his side… is Jay Pridgen.

“Oh my god… they— they knew each other?” And well that definitely adds a whole new layer to how traumatic Jay's death must have been. Buck sighs and closes May’s laptop. He thanks her for going through all the articles and everything for him, even if it feels wrong to thank someone for invading Tommy’s privacy.

He rides home in silence, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. He feels crappy, and insensitive… he collapses onto his bed the second he reaches it. Maybe he can sleep on it and his head will be clearer in the morning. Honestly he thinks he would like to just forget about this whole thing; that sounds like a very good idea.

His phone dings.

A notification that Tommy tagged him in a photo. He opens it and is met with himself and Tommy, standing in front of a gorgeous sunset on the beach; bodies pressed against each other, noses touching and their lips just a breath away from a kiss. Yeah, he’s all mine <3 Buck feels the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he double taps the image watching the red heart bloom out from his thumb.

He is so happy. Why is he trying to ruin that for himself? He clicks on Tommy’s account, looking through all the pictures Tommy has posted of him, and of them together. A visual confirmation of the true meaning of happiness that Buck has finally found. Buck has liked them all already, so he just scrolls through them.

Next thing he knows he has gone back to before they met. Tommy didn't use social media that much, at least not in the recent years before they got together. He only has a handful of images from each year and some years there’s gaps where he didn’t post anything.

Buck doesn’t think he’s ever gone so deep into Tommy’s account before. He decides to go all the way back to the beginning and scroll up. He can’t help but laugh at how tiny Tommy looks in the very first pictures he posted; horrible quality shots of him showing off his baby muscles (compared to the ones he has now anyway), giving his best smolder for the camera. As he starts scrolling through them it’s so reminiscent of his own earlier days on the app, just thirst trap after thirst trap and Buck is kind of loving the experience.

He goes through them, liking each one, before he notices something that has him sitting up in his bed.

It’s a picture taken up in the snow; a picture taken in NorCal. Tommy's mom lives in NorCal so that’s not surprising… what is surprising is the top name on the list of likes. It’s Jay. Buck blinks at the name thinking the letters might shift and he’ll realize he’s just reading the username wrong; it’s JPridge82, he’s definitely not reading it wrong. He scrolls up to the next picture. Tommy with his mom; liked by JPridge82. Tommy in his 118 turnouts; liked by JPridge82. Tommy in bed clearly wrapped around another body, his eyes are half-lidded and tired, the caption reads wake me up before you go go; liked by JPridge82, and a comment… but you're so cute when you sleep, baby! Tommy replies: oh shut up! XD

It easily could be read as banter; he and Eddie play flirt like that all the time. Next picture: a restaurant table Buck recognizes oh too intimately. Think I found my new favorite Italian restaurant; liked by JPridge82 and replies: sameee

A picture of two shadows holding hands. Take my hand, take my whole life too. It’s askew enough you only see part of the bodies and then their hands (enough you can’t see their heights are the same, Buck thinks. That would have raised questions for sure.) Liked by JPridge82; aww baby look at us xoxo. Tommy replies: my god you are ridiculous

The inside of Tommy’s old truck, two coffee cups in the holders. Let’s get out of this town <3. Liked by JPridge82.

The next picture is a new thirst trap, of sorts. Tommy standing in the mirror shirtless. He isn’t flexing, or posing. Just standing there. No caption. No like by JPridge82, but there is a comment from Sal. Not the mopey instagram posts! She wasn’t for you, man! Let it go, you’ll find new ass in no time. Tommy didn’t respond.

The pictures slowly turn from selfies, to work related, to memes. Some of which are extremely questionable; putting down women, or minorities. Some are downright hateful. They are so unlike the Tommy he knows now. They are definitely giving Buck a look at this person Gerrard was referring to when he made the comment about Buck not knowing the “real” Tommy. He thinks of what Chimney and Hen said; that he has profusely apologized for how he was back when they started. Why hasn’t he taken them down then.

He sets his jaw, trying to not let the annoyance building set him off, and goes back to the last picture Jay liked. He clicks on the username. “Dammit,” he mumbles out loud. His account is private.

He gets an idea.

It’s one that on a typical day he would be annoyed with himself for having… but it’s almost three in the morning he is running off pure adrenaline now and he isn’t thinking like he typically would… he logs out of his own Instagram and logs into Tommy’s.

It’s not that he was being sneaky and eavesdropped on Tommy entering his password, Tommy literally typed it out right in front of him. He had taken a picture of them and needed to log in to post it. He is always saying he has nothing to hide from Buck… Seems like he had one thing to hide.

Buck’s heart is pounding into his ears as he opens Tommy’s followers list. Maybe they weren’t even following each other anymore, Buck thinks, his thumb lingering over the search bar. Maybe he should just back out of this while he’s still somewhat in the dark, before he brings to light something he doesn’t want to know.

JPridge82.

Buck feels his heart completely stop beating. He shouldn’t do this. Hell, he shouldn’t be on Tommy’s instagram in the first place. He clicks on the name anyway. Immediately his suspensions are answered. Private accounts come with freedom; freedom to share whatever you want because you control who can see it. And Jay didn’t have that many followers, so they likely all knew the truth.

Jay’s photo bin looks eerily similar to how Tommy’s account looks now, except its picture after picture of Tommy and Jay together.

One in bed, Tommy’s head resting on Jay’s chest. One from what must have been a hike, far from any peeping eyes; a kiss in front of a waterfall. Their hands clasped together over the center console of one of their cars. A movie date; Buck and Tommy have still never made up their missed movie date, never had the time. He doesn’t mean for the jealousy that starts to bloom deep in his chest, but it’s there and he is too drained to even attempt to push it away.

He wonders why Tommy wouldn’t tell him about such a pivotal time of his life.

My Forever <3 Jay captions a picture of Tommy staring out at the ocean, his hair wet and tousled like he just came out of the water.

Buck looks through the pictures, each one feeling like a stab to the chest—this was not meant for him to see. This was something beautiful Tommy had… and lost… and he wanted to keep it to himself. But Buck can never leave well enough alone, and he took that decision from Tommy.

He is about to close his phone when he sees Jay’s last post isn’t a picture but text.

I wish I had been enough of a reason for you to stop lying about who you are. Posted — August 8, 2010. A week before the accident.

Buck closes his phone, but he doesn’t—he can’t—go to sleep.

~~~

There’s a knock on his door.

Buck wishes he could just hide under his covers and pretend he doesn’t hear it; he knows exactly who it is.

He spent his first day off avoiding Tommy. He had hoped Tommy hadn’t caught on; he was working a 24 and from the already scarcity of his calls and texts, it seemed the shift was a busy one. Usually as soon as Tommy is suspicious of Buck’s behavior he will go hide somewhere so he can call—and will repeatedly call—to figure out what’s wrong. He hasn’t pressed once as Buck went through literally every excuse in the book as to why he wasn’t able to talk, and he has seemed just as unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm in all of Buck’s texts.

He should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.

Another knock. He could continue to ignore it, but Tommy has a key.

Buck groans and pushes off his bed, taking the steps one at a time for once; no reason other than to prolong reaching the door. “Hey baby,” Tommy says, cheery and bright, the second Buck opens it. “Were you sleeping?”

I wish, Buck thinks. “I… was,” Buck lies. “What’s all this…”

In Tommy’s hands there’s a huge, beautiful bouquet of flowers, a bottle of wine, and a card. He hands Buck the card first. “Uh— let’s call it an… it seems like I’ve done something and haven’t realized what it is yet… surprise.” Buck can’t help the laugh that escapes him. What does he say to that… yeah you have, I just haven’t rationalized whether I truly deserve to be mad at you about it or not. “So… go on, read it.”

Buck sighs, finally looking down at the card in his hands. My forever is written in Tommy’s small ridiculously neat handwriting with a heart at the end. He stares at the card, his mind going right back to a private account and a picture captioned My Forever <3.

“I— I know… cheesy right?”

Buck breaks his eyes away from the words, bringing them up to Tommy’s. “Why— why would you put that…”

“Uhm—” Tommy looks at him confused, if not a little hurt. “I mean… I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be so on the nose… but that is what I see with you… if you don’t—”

“Is that what you saw with Jay too?” Buck asks before he can stop himself.

Tommy’s eyes widen, he steps back. “What…”

Buck has been here before. Putting himself in an awkward situation and so yet his mouth still starts moving against his better judgment. “I mean… that’s what he saw with you… but maybe it was only one-sided.” Tommy doesn’t speak, continuing to stare at Buck like he has grown a second head. Might as well rip the bandaid off, he thinks; shrugs. “You didn’t want to talk about him… so I just found out myself. It’s not like it’s hard to pull up an old news article.”

“You— but how did you get on his—” Tommy blinks, a new look crossing his face; he knows what Buck did. It should make Buck feel bad; it does make him feel bad… but it also makes him feel defensive. He deserved to know—if only he truly believed that.

“I’ve told you everything, Tommy!” He snaps. “I’ve told you all about my past, all my relationships, Daniel. Every sad, and hard, and embarrassing, and traumatic experience… I told you. But you... You’re this big mystery. You don’t talk about anything. The only thing you’ve told me about your past is that it makes you jealous of mine…” The tension in Tommy’s face has gone slack, and he’s just taking the lecture with calmness; meanwhile Buck’s heart is about to pound out of his chest and his skin has gone hot and numb. “But did you ever think that maybe the reason we’re like a family is because we treat each other like equals. Instead of like some of them are beneath us...”

That gets him a reaction; finally, he thinks. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t act like you and Chimney and Hen always got along… like you didn’t follow Gerrard’s lead when they first started…” Tommy looks at him like a kicked puppy; Buck internally screams at himself that it’s enough. It’s not enough, he adds: “Not to mention all the crap you used to share. That you probably got a good laugh about with all your buddies at the expense of others.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Tommy cries.

Buck sees red, throwing the unopened card down on the table and storming up to his phone. He doesn’t even log out of Tommy’s account, just finds the memes and shoves them in his face. “This is what you think is funny?”

“Evan, these are— do you even realize how long ago this was?!”

“What difference does that make!?” Buck screams back.

Tommy sighs, and hands Buck back his phone. “No… you’re— you’re right. It doesn’t make a difference… it doesn’t make it okay.”

Buck thinks he’s said enough. He has revealed what he knows. “So is that what happened with you and Jay…” he says instead… the words sliding their way out of his mouth and he can’t stop them. “He couldn’t live a lie any more… couldn’t live your lie anymore.” It’s rolling off his tongue so easily, it actually disgusts him. But the words pass his lips and he watches the exact moment they slap Tommy across the face and the man gasps like he’d actually just been assaulted. His eyes instantly fill with tears and he has to break his eyes from Buck in an attempt to blink them away.

“You— you have no idea what you're talking about, Evan. You had no right to…”

“To what? Question if I really know the man I was considering spending the rest of my life with? I’ve been through this, Tommy, too many times. You think you know someone… and it turns out you don’t.”

“How can you even say that?!” Tommy all but screams, rubbing the back of his hand—still holding on to the bottle of wine—over his eyes and nose. “Okay yeah, I didn’t tell you about a really hard time in my life… and maybe given everything surrounding it I should have. Maybe I should have even told you about how it was when Howie and Hen first started. And yes, I should have gone through and deleted all those posts a long time ago… But to say you don’t really know me? Those things don’t define me!”

“They sure say a lot though…”

Tommy goes silent. He takes a few calming breaths, fresh tears in his eyes and trails running down both cheeks. “So— so what is this— what are we— what does this mean, then… for us?”

Buck shrugs. “That maybe I'm not your forever,” he says, tightening his jaw so it won’t betray the stone cold persona he is trying to uphold by trembling.

Tommy freezes, the bottle of wine and roses he’s still holding suddenly seem so out of place. “You don’t mean—” he starts; he searches Buck’s eyes like he’s trying to find a different answer. He doesn’t seem to find one. “Really?” Buck doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t take it back either. He just swallows around the lump forming in his throat and manages to hold his composure. “Okay… if that’s—” he shifts on his feet, breaking away from Buck’s eyes; Buck is grateful for it. “O- Okay.”

He sits the roses and wine on the table by the card and turns for the door. “You— you don’t need to leave those…” Buck manages to say; it sounds so petty, it disgusts him.

Tommy opens the door and turns back to the roses. “Think of it as… a goodbye gift,” he says, quietly, giving a halfhearted laugh. He turns his head farther, so he is again looking at Buck, giving him one more chance to take it back. He doesn’t. “Good-bye, Buck,” Tommy says and pulls the door closed behind him.

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thisisxli · 7 months ago

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𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭. - 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆.

Rs: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader (amab/afab/no implied gender)

warnings: denial of feelings, unrequited love almost, rejection, grief, weaponizing, major deaths, ANGST, manga spoilers

Tags: right person/wrong place or not enough time, realizes things too late, VERY little fluff if you squint, Satoru is head over heels for reader, Satoru is kind, Reader is shitty with feelings

Summary: You refuse to be swayed by the one whom they call 'the strongest.' That is until you realized you were truly too late.

wc: 0.7k

recommended song:

a/n: if you enjoyed this work, you can read more by visiting my Masterlist. :) made inspired by my poll post!

To say you didn't like Gojo was an understatement. In fact, it wasn't true at all. But you were scared and you knew that. You knew that him being the strongest lures in a lot of curses. And you never knew when you were gonna die either; so every time he asked you out, you declined. Every. Single. Time. Of course, there were times where you... have warmed up to him. At some points. He even made you laugh a little. But you remember that the world you live in wasn't normal. It was cruel.

"(Y/N), I got a mission assigned to me and I might need your help-" "no. I know what you're trying to do and it's not working."

Even if it were the smallest things he'd ask for, you would refuse to do so or even help him in the slightest. To sum it all up, you were awfully rude and blunt towards the white-haired man.

Even if it was him being sealed away, Nanami dying, and Sukuna about destroying the whole city of Shibuya. You completely shut yourself off from Jujutsu society and everyone else, you were simply a coward. A traitor some would say. A scoundrel. You couldn't even bring yourself to talk to Itadori who you knew needed more comfort than you did.

You spent your time wallowing away, a uneasy feeling in your stomach when you catch yourself reminiscing Gojo. You can't help but look for him in the crowd, turning your head when you catch people with similar colognes, and blue eyes. But none were him. And yet, you kept telling yourself you didn't care about him. He didn't know you. Not like that at least. And you didn't know him; you two were simply just strangers. You didn't want a single thing to do with him, you told yourself.

Your knees nearly started to buckle when you hear he had been released, immediately going into battle in the upcoming fight. Of course, you were there to witness it. To catch his lingering gaze on you. To catch his toothy smile. It felt like it had been such a long time since you've seen him, only though it's been almost a month.

"Nonsense!" You shout, slamming your fist on a table with tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. You were absolutely opposed to their newfound plan for if 'Gojo lost' against Sukuna. Like hell you would ever let these fuckers use him up like that! Not like how Geto was used- you couldn't. Not him. Especially not him. You didn't even know why you were protesting, watching his face turn into a look into surprise filled you with embarrassment along with others' deafening silence in the room. Luckily, Yuta had the exact same idea. "As if! Ridiculous! The audacity! To use that man after all we used of him already?!?!" A few head shakes at your words, looking away to avoid your gaze. They understood you but everyone, even you knew it had to be done. "What about Gojo-sensei?! Gojo-sensei isn't important?! Haven't we all kept on pushing him to become a monster of his own??! If he's gone, it has to be someone else..! If no one else will, then I will become one!" Yuta declared.

You were surprised to say at the least. Your protests were heard through and through. But they didn't listen, no, not at all. Even Yuta went through with it. There wasn't much you both could've done but sit there and let things happen.

Not once did Gojo say one word to you after he was unsealed. Before he went into battle, he gave you a prideful smirk and winked at you before giving you a softer look just as he left. Now there was something nagging you. What was it? And then, you knew.

You knew when you saw his dead body laid flat on a metal table covered by thin cushioned paper. Yuta was dying soon too. You knew what had to be done and you knew how you truly felt now and what you needed to do a long time ago. "Satoru!" You sob your heart out as Yuta was being talked through, soon to be operated with Gojo. "I love you, I love you so much! I'm sorry," you cling onto his cold bloody hands before feeling him slip through your fingers, your hands weakly reaching out to his dead body being escorted out the door by Shoko, "don't leave me."

a/n: sorry if I didn't do too well with the ending here. I still hope you enjoyed it :)

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natalievoncatte · 2 years ago

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This isn’t really a ficlet. It’s more of a screen test. If I like it and you like it, this might be my next project after my SCBB fic is done. I’ll start posting excerpts of that soon!

CW: Mentions of death and dying, and loss.

Of all the things to kill Lena Luthor, it was a heel shearing off her shoe. It wasn’t even a proper high heel, just a two inch rise on a pair of rather stately shoes from a designer of no particular note. Lena had since passed on the Louboutins, and had long adopted more conservative cuts for her suits and dresses. She’d given up her title as CEO decades ago and now fulfilled the role of director emeritus of L-Corp’s research and development division.

It had been a good life, except for one glaring exception. She’d cured over twenty types of common cancers, developed vaccines, and almost personally reversed global warming. She had only one regret as the heel sheared off her shoe and she went tumbling down the stairs to the floor of the L-Corp lobby.

Curiously, she was only dimly aware of the pain. It was something distant, like it was happening to someone else. She heard more than felt a crushing blow to her hip and when the marble rushed up to fill her vision, the world simply went explosively white and the only thing she felt was cold.

The world stayed white, which had perplexed her. Lena had never believed in any sort of life after death, even though she had a vague sense of the supernatural. Her mother was rumored to be a witch in the Irish village where she grew up, and she’d been told as much when she visited as an adult to seek out her roots. She expected, well, nothing. Not even an awareness that there was nothing, just an absence. As she grew older, on those nights when her mortality came crashing down around her in the fitful depths of the early morning when sleep rejected her, she would rationalize death as simply not having to get up tomorrow.

She did not expect to find herself standing in her old office, the one from a lifetime ago. Her stark minimalist desk dominated the room. Without knowing why, she ran the pads of her fingers along its cool length, a ghost of a sad smile dusting her lips.

The sofa was there, too. She could barely bring herself to look at it. After Kara’s betrayal, she had disposed of it thoroughly and rearranged the office. She’d eventually be driven out of the room entirely by grief and settled into another office on a lower floor and began spending more time at home, but the penthouse gave her no solace, either, and she ended up selling it and ultimately moved the research and development department back to Metropolis and worked there.

Lena’s breath caught at the sight of a familiar photograph on one of her bookcases. She took it in trembling hands, knowing then that this must be an illusion or a dream, because she’d smashed the frame and shredded this photograph in her own two fingers.

It was her and Kara, faces pressed together and grinning, their eyes so radiant with joy that it burned Lena’s heart to see and she immediately hurled it across the room, hurling it at a vase of rare plumerias that Kara had brought for her, leaving behind a full belly and a soaring heart.

A hand plucked it casually from the air and set it on an end table near the sofa. Lena stood her ground, though her legs began to tremble.

Standing in her office was a man she didn’t know, dressed smartly in a black suit that would have been in fashion all those years ago. He had a curiously calm air about him, reserved and almost peaceful.

“Who are you?” said Lena. “I’m dead, right? Are you God? The Devil?”

“I am not a god, nor am I one of the true immortals, though it is said that in strange æons, even death may die.”

“Then who are you?”

“My name is Mxyzptlk. Kara might, perhaps, have told you of me.”

“No.”

He snorted softly.

“Typical. I am a very long lived being, Lena Luthor. My kind measure our lives in eons, and as a wise human once said, a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. For the last ten thousand years, I have been a troublemaker and an imp. Now I shall be something else. I have decided I shall be grand and wise.”

“What does that have to do with me?” said Lena.

“Not you. Kara. I still owe her a debt, and I must balance myself before I truly transition into my next iteration. I am here to balance that debt.”

“How?”

“By giving you the opportunity to give love one last chance.”

“I was never in love with-“

“Do not lie to me.”

Lena took a half step back, grabbing the desk for balance. Mxyzptlk took a few steps closer.

“I am as far beyond you as you are beyond an ant, the very forces of chaos and entropy heed my command. All time is an open book to me. Whether you admit it to yourself or not, you never married because you were hoping they Kara would stop giving you space and time to heal like you said you wanted, but never did.”

“How dare you? You don’t-“

“What Kara did to you, the way she manipulated her identities to confuse you, was cruel. Lying to you for so long was cruel.”

“Then why should I take you up on whatever this is?”

“A do-over. You’ll go back with your memories intact. You’ll have the chance to set right what once went wrong, and so will she. Or you can avoid her entirely and seek happiness elsewhere. You can leave National City behind or refuse her lunch invitations or whatever it is you think you wish you’d done. I’m not here to force you to love her. I’m giving you another chance, in truth, on her behalf. One she would pigheadedly refuse out of some misplaced sense of morals or decency.”

“Have you offered this to her?”

“No. Where she has gone now, I cannot follow. I can’t even show you where she is: her god has taken her home to his warm light. She rests in the lush fields of a prehistoric Krypton she never knew, spending eternity with her family. Rao has even used his strength and purpose to talk Mother Sol into allowing the Danvers into his domain.”

Lena’s voice cracked. “What?”

“Kara passed earlier today on Argo, from old age and cumulative injuries from her time as Supergirl, without a yellow star to protect her from them.”

“It sounds like she’s happy,” said Lena, turning away. “I… I still want her to be happy.”

“Rao is a bold god, a strong and protective one, but he is an honest lord. He does not give her the gift of forgetting, and perfect memory of love lost can be make a hell of heaven.”

“She loved me?”

“As much as you loved her. Enough to let you go.”

Lena’s hands began to shake. “It’s been so long. How-“

There was a knock at the door. Lena jumped, almost falling.

Mxyzptlk flashed to her side, crossing the space without moving.

“Choose now.”

“Who’s out there?”

“I don’t know. Whoever has the strongest claim over your soul, I suppose. You must choose now; to delay a true god is beyond even me.”

Lena swallowed, hard.

“Do it,” she whispered.

The world went mad. Everything was spinning, and trying to throw her stomach out of her body through her nose. The acrid smell of jet fuel and burning electronics stung her nose. The pilot beside her was unconscious.

And then…

The spinning slowed, and she was no longer falling. A gentle sense of lift raised her into the air, the city falling away from the cracked glass in front of her. Very gently, the helicopter came to rest on the roof, and she glimpsed a familiar figure in a cape and skirt, and her heart nearly exploded in her chest. There was a gust of wind that rocked the chopper and ice crystals crawled over the glass, crackling in the National City sunshine.

Then, she was there. Kara tore the door loose in a single, fluid motion and climbed inside, pausing to check the pilot, peering through flesh and bone to asses his injuries.

Then she looked at Lena.

Kara’s breath caught, and her pupils blew wide. Kara stared at Lena like she was something knew, unknown and wondrous, the edges of her lips curling just so despite the self serious tone as she asked if Lena was okay.

It was her. Alive, here, now. Lena couldn’t help herself; she lifted a trembling hand to cup Kara’s soft cheek, without thinking. Her throat nearly closed and no words escaped her lips. She just felt that warm, soft skin and stared right back into Kara’s otherworldly eyes, savoring the tickle of Kara’s loose honey curls slipping over the back of her hand.

“Miss Luthor,” Kara said. “Your heart is racing. We’d better get you an ambulance.”

“You saved me,” Lena whispered.

“That’s what I do,” said Kara, winking at her.

Lena almost died again.

#supergirl #supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #angst #heavy angst #we have to hurt our precious babies before we make them feel better #why can’t we give love one more chance #might expand beyond a ficlet #angst with an eventual happy ending #sad lena luthor #mr mxyzptlk

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happypeachsludgeflower · 6 months ago

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Is there an existing genre that contains both heavy angst and ridiculous comedy? Because whatever genre that is called, I’m gonna need its tag name soon 🥸😂

#this fic is a wild ride to write one second I’m making myself cry because it’s sad but the next the tears are laughter because GOD #feng xin is so stupid in this he’s so dumb I love him #I’m also going to make him cry in like every other sentence BUT HE BROUGHT THE SUFFERING ON HIMSELF OKAY #fanfic writing #it’s getting there guys #I almost have the entire summary done I’m so close!! it’s now 13 pages of ridiculousness and 8k words of angst/comedy #note that when I say 8k that’s just the plot summary 🥸 I’m a little afraid to know how long this fic is going to be once actually written #feng xin #tgcf feng xin #I’m going to make him cry so much #tgcf fengqing #fengqing fanfic #tgcf fanfic #fengqing #angst #angst with a happy ending #heavy angst #comedy of errors #romantic comedy #comedy

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nomoreusername · 7 months ago

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Heartbeat

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary:As you die in Aris's arms your love story plays in his head.

She was beautiful. So very beautiful. With hair that framed her already angelic face and eyes that could light up the night sky, it was always impossible to pull my gaze away from her. With her soft skin that always gave me this warmth that could only come from her hand and gentle lips that gave such gentle kisses, she was too captivating to be human.

And with bags under those bright eyes, they were turning dark. Her taken care of and perfectly done hair was now a tangled mess with knots every other section. Her skin was cut up, dried blood permanently staining it. Her lips were cracked, blood naturally flowing.

She was losing warmth. And with each second she was also losing life.

"It's okay. It's okay. It's all okay,"I soothed, holding her close as she had tears streaming down her face and blood pouring from her waist, the bullet still doing everything to stop her heartbeat.

I couldn't try and remove it. That would be the final straw. That would make it too late.

Pressing my shirt a little tighter on the wound, I repeated my words as she kept her arms around my shoulder while I kept her on my lap. With those tears turning to quiet, slow breaths, she dug her nails into my skin to keep herself in my hold.

"It's okay. It's alright,"I whispered, completely tying my old shirt around her waist before carefully rocking her back and forth. Running my fingers through her hair, I pressed my lips to her temple as she held on to me.

"You need to go with the others,"She pointed out, reminding me that while the others were safe, we were here in the destroyed WCKD facility.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Don't worry about it,"I repeated, putting my hand behind her head as she rested on my shoulder.

"It's cold,"She said through quiet breaths.

"It's okay. It's alright,"I coaxed, taking my jacket off while keeping her close. Wrapping it around her with one hand, I didn't let her fall asleep as I rubbed my hand up her arm while she shivered.

"Aris?"She whispered.

"Yes, angel?"I asked, only to immediately regret my words. Taking a breath, I pretended I hadn't said it just like I pretended there was no way we wouldn't have a happy ending.

"It's okay now. I'm okay."

"What?"I choked out.

"I'm okay. I'm fine,"She lied.

"No, that's not-no. You can make it,"I said firmly. "If we find something. Or I can go out and get help. I'll get help and you stay here. I'll make it okay, and-and-"

"Aris,"She said with such strength there was no way she could be bleeding out.

She was though.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

"Nobody's around here for miles. You know that."

"But they might be. If I can just-"

"Aris,"She cut me off, her hands pressing against my cheeks as she looked at me. Wearing a small smile, she closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against mine. With our noses just barely touching and her dying breath against my lips, I felt something inside of me break as it all became too real.

We were back at the Spring, in our hut, sleeping together in the same small cot. She's laying on her side as I hug her from behind. With my arms around her stomach, I press kisses to her bare skin, taking my time with each and every one until she wakes up. Her hands trace shapes down my arms until she kisses my fingertips. She turns around and smiles as she plays with my hair. I kiss her forehead when it's finally time to get up despite the way I know she's going to make me stay a little longer. She'll hug me and bury her face in my chest while mumbling that she didn't want to get up yet. I give in and lay with her for five minutes, rubbing circles on her back until it's time to start the day.

We dress on other sides of the room, our backs turned until we've confirmed that we're ready to go. Her outfit is simple as always, but she makes it seem like it's handmade only for her. I tell her she looks beautiful no matter what she's wearing. She rolls her eyes until I make her face the mirror. I don't let her look away until she believes it.

I eat breakfast beside her. We don't hold hands. We don't kiss. We just sit there with Natalie and Melissa, quietly talking until that meal is over.

We head to the Med-hut. We don't get a patient for at least until lunch. We're also the only two there since nobody else seems to want to do it. They all favor being Builders and Track-hoes. Plus, the one we got two weeks ago fainted when a Skater broke her leg.

We organize the supplies again. We disinfect everything. We end up getting bored. I sit on the ground and she lays her head on my shoulder as I read to her. She stops me every now and then to make me annotate the book. I do it without question. By the time we've finished there's still nobody there. She doodles random things. I watch over her shoulder. She says she needs to save paper. I let her draw on my arm. She makes flowers and stars and planets and writes our initials inside one of the several hearts. I ask if I can draw something. She agrees. I take her hand and write mine on the back of it before kissing it. She makes a joke about me being possessive. I promise that it's just because I'm thankful she loves me too. She swears she'll somehow get it tattooed one day. I tell her she can do whatever she wants, and I'll love her all the same.

Someone finally comes in before lunch. Then another person. A Blondie and a Cook. She helps Blondie because she's better with them. She'll make small talk as I help my patient in silence, only asking basic questions. By the time I'm finished, she's still talking to Blondie despite having healed her. I say bye to the Cook before watching them. She reassures her it'll be okay. Blondie ends up asking about the writing. Her smile grows as she glances at me. Blondie understands. They talk more before she leaves.

Lunch is the same as breakfast. There's nothing wrong with that. We like it that way. By now Natalie and Melissa are more awake. We talk a little more, a little louder. We don't go into anything major. It's lighthearted and enjoyable enough.

We go back to the Med-hut when it's over. We disinfect everything. We reorganize. We know our only chance of someone else is a Skater. She lays on the ground and complains about being bored. I lay beside her as she says she just wishes there were more people to help. I wish I had that kind of selflessness. I like this job because I'm good at it. Not because of what I do. She asks what's wrong. I tell her nothing because nothing is. I just admire her. I just wish I could be more like her. She knows something is up. She lightly kicks my shin until I do the same. She takes my hand and turns on her side. She plays with my fingers, getting lost in the meaningless activity. Her touch kind of tickles. I don't tell her that. I just watch her fidget with my hand until she kisses my palm and sets it down. She looks up at me to see me smiling, and she does the same. She runs her hands through my hair and tells me she wants me to grow it out so she can braid it. I promise to let it get just long enough to make mini ones. She likes the idea. It makes her happy so it makes me happy.

We go to Blondie night for a bit. We don't watch the fights. We sit with Sonya and Anne. Harriet's too busy watching over everything. We all talk. We know these girls better so I feel comfortable holding her hand. Plus, it's dark so it's hard to tell. I'm proud to have her, but I don't want anyone to see how much. She feels the same. I know for sure because I once asked if it hurts her feelings that I don't really touch her in public. She looked surprised and said no. I like that we're so in synch. She does too. Nobody was there right then so I kissed her. She kissed back before we went to sleep. That's how I know it's fine that all I do is hold her hand. I don't even think about it. I just feel more comfortable when I do without even realizing why.

We're not tired, but I can feel my social battery going down. I don't say anything, but she knows because I'm zoning out a little bit. She says she's tired and wants to go to sleep. She always makes an excuse like that when I need to leave. I play along. We say bye and promise to talk to them later.

I feel bad when we get home. I apologize for getting like that again and promise she doesn't have to leave for me. She tells me to stop thinking like that as we turn around and get dressed. I tell her that she's too good for me. She goes quiet. She looks sad. I don't want her to be sad. I tell her that I love her. She says she loves me more than I understand and that she wishes I could just accept that I come first to her. I tell her that she's the first choice for me too. She looks happy again. It makes me smile when she's happy. She likes it when I'm happy.

She kisses me. I don't hesitate to kiss back. She's the one who deepens it. She's always been bold, and that won't stop today. She lets me lay on top of her. The kiss has so much love but no innocence. No lust either. Just the craving of our lips, the hunger that can only be solved like this, finally being filled. Neither of us want to stop. We want more. I think about kissing her neck. I decide not to. I don't want to go too far. I pull away when her breathing gets heavy. She understands. She still isn't quite satisfied, but she knows I'm not ready yet. I promise we'll do more soon. She tells me she doesn't care as long as I love her. I do. I tell her that. She smiles and hugs me.

We get back in our sleeping positions. I can feel her shiver despite the blanket. I offer one of my hoodies. She says it'll be too hot later, but she will definitely accept that tomorrow. I wrap my arms around her. I keep her warm with my body. She leans close to me. She hums a song I don't know but love anyway. I whisper sweet nothing's in her ear as I wrap my arm around her stomach. She tenses up. She still doesn't see all of her beauty. I list all the things I love about her. When we get past the twenties, she relaxes. I silently plead that she'll know the truth forever this time. I have hope that she will, but I know it probably won't be tomorrow. That's alright though, because as far as we're concerned, we have forever to be together.

"Please don't leave until you're sure I'm gone? I don't want to die alone,"She whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks, mixing with mine as we stayed closer than we ever have.

"I could never leave you,"I promised.

"You know what this means, right?"

"No. I don't."

"I'm the better Med-jack,"She almost laughed before taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry,"I promised.

"Guess you should have taken me that week ago, huh?"

"You seem too happy right now."

"I am. I'm always happy when I'm with you. Even if it's for my last moments, I can never not be so in love."

As her smile started fading, I knew she didn't have long. She had never had long to begin with, but time was completely up. There was no saving her. There was no fixing this.

Brushing my lips against hers, I mumbled I love you's as I kissed her. Knowing it was our last one, I didn't stop. I didn't know how. I just knew that as long as I kiss her she'd be breathing. Because that's how it works. That's how deep our love runs so it can keep her alive. I know it, I swear it, so as long as I don't stop she'll stay breathing.

Doing what I had never done before, I put my hand behind her head as I deepened, ignoring the tears flooding down my closed eyes as I did. And I felt her tears on my skin, mixing with mine until I could taste it in our mouths. Ours. Ours. Ours. Because this moment it ours, this life is ours, and everything is fine.

But I needed to breathe. I needed to breathe, but my heart told me that she needed me to kiss her for her to breathe. So I did, and she kissed back, and we cried, and I kept saying I love you until I was sure the words were burned on our lips. And I want them to be. It's close enough to the tattoo she wanted, and I'll have the same one.

But I couldn't breathe. I needed air so I pulled away, panting as I took in all that I could.

Looking down, my already grieving mind cleared I saw how greedy I had been with it. Because she wasn't moving. Her eyes were completely shut as she laid still.

Laying her down, I listened for her heartbeat. If it was there, my heart would break because she was still in pain. If it wasn't, my heart would break because I would never have her.

Silence. There was nothing but silence. Not a sound from out there, not a sound in here, not a sound from her.

She's dead then. She's gone.

Untying my shirt from her waist, I brushed hers out as if she had to be neat to go somewhere. Taking my jacket, I carefully placed her arms inside before remembering that she gets too hot. Taking if back off, I laid it over her like a blanket before lying next to her.

Brushing her hair out, I looked at her as every moment flashed before my eyes.

~ ~ ~

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't run!"the girl repeated as I tried to get out of here. With my hand on the doorknob, I stared at her as she wore a gentle smile despite the firmness in her words.

"Where am I?"I got out.

"I'll tell you if you sit down,"She bargained, sitting on the bed.

This is dangerous. I don't know where am I. I don't even know-

"Who am I?"

"I'll explain. Just sit down, okay?"

Taking slow steps, I almost found myself on autopilot as I sat on the other side of the bed.

"You can come closer. I won't hurt you,"She promised. Looking at the ground, I slowly did so until I was about an inch away.

"Do you know who I am?"I quietly repeated.

"No, but nobody does. When every single one of us came up, none of us knew anything about us. We never do, but in a day or two you should get your name back."

"How many people are there?"

"Twelve, and you make thirteen."

"Okay,"I nodded, fiddling with my thumbs as I didn't look up.

"Do you want to know anything else?"

"Is everyone nice?"

"Well,"She trailed off.

"Well what?"

"Yes, but you're the only boy."

"The only boy?"

"Yeah."

"So everyone else is a girl?"

"Yep."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Like I said though. They're usually nice. It's just that people are a bit on edge. None of us even remember boys so it's a very unexpected experience."

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"I-I don't even know,"I admitted.

"You didn't do anything wrong so don't be. It's going to be fine, okay? We're friends now."

"Can I know your name?"I asked, looking at her for the first time just for my breath to get caught in my throat.

She was pretty. No. Not just pretty.

She was beautiful. Her eyes matched her jacket, making their already bright color pop. Her hair was pushed out of her face with a pencil stuck behind her ear. There was this slight tint over her lips, the kind you get from chapstick.

"It's Vaseline. I always keep some because of the cold."

"Huh?"

"I just put on Vaseline. It's always cold so it's the only way my lips won't chap."

"Oh,"I muttered, feeling my face burn as I realized I had been staring.

"So any more questions you can think of?"

"No,"I responded, fiddling with my sleeves as I felt nothing but embarrassment. So much for good first impressions.

~ ~ ~

I don't like the way the Blondies look at me. With either distrust, intense curiosity, or a not so friendly glint in their eyes. It made me nervous.

"You coming to Blondie night?"Y/N asked, nudging my leg.

"I am at Blondie night,"I technically pointed out.

"I meant why aren't you down there with everything?"She clarified, gesturing to everyone at the fire under us as we sat on the surprisingly sturdy Watch Tower.

"I don't want to be,"I said simply. "Why aren't you down there?"

"Because you're here. Not there,"She shrugged. Staring at the ground, I ignored the way my face warmed.

"It's nice up here,"I whispered, glancing up at the stars.

"Yeah. It is,"She agreed, hooking her ankle with mine as she moved closer. Looking at her as she rested her head on my shoulder, I held my breath as she seemed close to sleeping. After a moment of internal debate, I wrapped my arm around her, tracing my fingers up her arms.

"Aris?"She whispered.

"Yes?"

"I'm really happy you're here. No matter what anyone says, you're the best thing that's ever happened to this hellhole,"She admitted, glancing up at me. Looking back at the girl that still caught me off guard no matter how many chances I had to admire her, I felt my heart race as I moved just a little closer. Doing the same, there was something different in her eyes. Not that I knew for long as I glanced down at her lips. The ones that still looked so soft. The ones that I was sure would fit perfectly with mine.

When I tried to meet her gaze again I saw her staring at mine, this emotion in her eyes that I had never seen before. It made them seem so much brighter, more full of life than they ever had been.

As I was about to close my eyes and finally, finally, finally kiss her, loud cheering from below made us pull away. Staring at the ground, we saw it was just some of the girls celebrating their fight ring.

Are you kidding me right now? Are you serious? That's when it has to end? Not when we were actually kissing?

"I'm uh, gonna go to bed,"She mumbled.

"Yeah. Yeah, goodnight,"I muttered, not meeting her eyes.

"Are you coming down?"

"No. I'm gonna stay a little longer."

And hate the way I'm ridiculously in love with you, but who cares?

"I'll see you in the morning then."

"Yeah. See-"

I was cut off as she kissed my cheek before climbing down the ladder before I could react. Staring at the ground, I saw her sprint to her tent as if she had something to run from.

Putting a hand to my cheek, I tried to take it in. She kissed me. She really kissed me. I had never been kissed before, but she just kissed me.

She kissed me, she kissed me, she kissed me.

I am not going to sleep tonight. Not when I swear I can still feel her lips on my skin.

~ ~ ~

I was tired. I was sick of it. I just wanted it to end. All of it.

I know I had to go to work. I know I can't just not show up, but I was tired. I was really tired.

One year. I had been here for a year and people still didn't trust me. They would still look at me with such hatred.

I tried to tell myself it didn't bother me. I tried to tell myself it didn't matter, but it does. It really, really does.

I wanted to move. I wanted to get up, but I couldn't. It was like there was an actual weight on my body, forcing me to stay in bed and think about the way I have only five real friends, three of which I rarely see.

I didn't want anyone to notice. I didn't expect anyone to care, and they didn't. That was exactly what I wanted and expected.

So why did it still hurt me so much I could feel it crush my soul?

"Knock knock,"a familiar voice called from outside my hut. Not really wanting to answer despite the way all I wanted was her, I pulled the covers over me as I kept my knees to my chest, hugging myself while holding back tears.

"Aris, are you okay?"She asked, her voice as gentle as when I met her, if not more.

I didn't answer. I wouldn't. Something was in my throat, not letting me speak.

"I'm coming in,"She said firmly, opening my door. Not bothering to look at her, I listened to her shut it before walking over to my bed. After a moment she sat on the edge of the cot, rubbing circles on my back with her hand. "I know you're awake,"She sighed. Still not moving, I kept my eyes closed to stop the tears. "I tried to see you earlier, but Harriet said I had to stay. I'm here now though, for anything you need."

"No,"I whispered, taking a shaky breath.

"No? What do you mean no?"

"Go away,"I demanded in a weak voice.

"No,"She said simply.

"Go away. I don't want you here."

"Aris-"

"I told you to leave! Go! Get the hell out of here!"I yelled, choking on sobs.

"Oh Aris,"She whispered, pulling the blanket from my face. Holding my face in her hands, she wiped my tears as I sobbed. "I don't want you to be alone right now. You're too upset, okay?"

"That should make you want to leave even more,"I pointed out.

"Not for you. You look lonely. You have for so long."

"It doesn't matter what I feel,"I uttered, crying so hard my chest hurts. Despite that, she kept taking my tears away, looking at me with an undeniable sadness in her eyes.

"What do you really need?"

"It doesn't matter. Nobody needs me. Nobody wants me here,"I whispered, pulling away.

"Excuse me?"She asked quickly, this hint of anger in her voice.

"Nobody needs me. No-"

"Oh hell no. Don't you dare talk like that."

"Why? Why does it matter? It's true. Nobody wants me here. Maybe I should just-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"You don't get it! You don't understand! Nobody understands!"

"No. I don't understand what it's like being the only boy, but I know what it's like. To have something pushing on your chest until you can't breathe. To want to do something but not even be able to move. To be so tired no matter how much you sleep. I know exactly what that's like, and I won't let you repeat my mistake."

"Your mistake?"I whispered, sitting up for the first time all day and staring at her.

"You'll regret it. When you fall or bleed or whatever, you will regret it. You'll realize how much you actually want to live. You'll panic and hurt and nothing will be solved. I will not let you feel that. Do you understand? I won't let it get that far, no matter what I have to do."

"You-you know?"

"It doesn't matter. I won't let you feel that. Even if I have to be by your side forever."

"Why would you want that? Why would you care that much?"

"Because,"She whispered, sitting in front of me and putting her hand on my knee, "I need you. I want you. You do more than you could ever know. You are worth so much, and I would never give up on you. You're too important, too special, too kind. Even if nobody else sees it, I do. I see it, and I need you here."

"I don't know how to be okay,"I admitted. Pulling me close, she wrapped her arms around me as I cried into her shirt. Burying her face in my neck, she put her hand behind my head as she kept pressing small, quick kisses to my neck. Not the romantic kind. The kind of kisses that held so much love that words couldn't describe. The kind of kisses that brought this sort of comfort I didn't quite understand. The kind of kisses that made her words so much more truthful.

"I'm tired. I've been tired for so long,"I whispered as my tears stopped.

"Come on. It's time for bed,"She lied. Pretending not to notice the sun just barely shining through the crack in my door, I laid under the covers with her still keeping me close. Running her hands through my hair, she hummed to me as I closed my eyes.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"What if I wanted to sleep like this every night? With you by my side?"

"Then all you have to do is look at me that way only you can, and I'll know,"She said simply.

I wasn't sure of that. If only glance would let her read my mind, but I was sure I would find out soon.

~ ~ ~

I was falling for her more and more every day. I was completely in love with her. That was undeniable.

We slept beside each other every single night. We woke up beside each other every single morning. We spent every Blondie night together, either hiding from everyone to talk or look at the stars in silence (which was her looking at the sky and me looking at her) or with a few friends. I was an open book to her, and by now I knew everything there was to know about Y/N.

I know I should doubt it, but I don't. She feels the same. We don't say it, but we know. We both know we aren't cuddling in the sheets because she's cold. We both know she doesn't just wear my clothes because she thinks my hoodies look nice on her. We both know her neck kisses that are lasting longer are starting to be more than just comfort. We both know the I love you's aren't platonic.

We just don't say it. We both feel it, we both know the other does, but we don't bring it up. For some reason, we decided this was better.

She was just a little shorter than me. Not by much, but she was. Just enough to where I would sometimes get things from the top shelf for her.

I already knew what she was reaching for. The sketchbook that had ended up on said top shelf somehow.

I didn't mean to. Honestly. I didn't realize I would catch her off guard, but as I leaned over her to get it down she turned around to face me. From the way her face was a light pink, it was an obvious accident.

I don't know why this moment was different. It wasn't that we were alone. We're alone all the time. It wasn't that emotions were heavy. We had both had enough of that late at night. It wasn't even like we were touching the way we do but pretend we aren't when we're alone.

This was different though. Something about the built up love was tired of being held back. We wanted more. It wasn't like we were even close to friends with benefits but friends with unspoken love was exhausting.

She was the bold one, but I still expected it. I expected the way she put her arms around my shoulders and kissed me. I expected to find myself kissing back, keeping my lips to hers while wrapping my arms around her waist, pressing her body to mine. Putting her hand behind my head the way she did when we pretended to be stupid to it, she deepened it, taking me from her soft lips to her sweet taste.

Unfortunately, we needed to breathe. Even though all I wanted right now was to keep kissing her while somehow also wanting to just hold her hand and talk, we had to pull apart for air.

Keeping her forehead against mine, I could feel her shaky breaths against my lips as the sound of heavy breathing filled the air. I hate oxygen. I hate it so much. I hate that I can't live off of just her.

We'd live together and die together.

"I love you,"She whispered, saying what we already knew.

"I love you too. Forever and always,"I promised. Watching the way it made her smile, I said it again just to see her do it again.

She did.

~ ~ ~

She was sick. Seriously sick. Up and down fever, not eating, throwing up sick.

I stayed with her. One day without someone to help the slightly injured was fine. My girl was actually sick, and I was going to take care of her.

"I'm sorry,"She repeated, glancing at the hoodie she had first thrown up on in the corners of my room to be washed later.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it,"I reassured her.

"Are you sure you don't want your other one back?"

"Keep it forever. Okay?"I told her, rubbing her back.

"You're going to get sick."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine,"I promised. As she went to say something else she leaned over the bed. Holding her hair back, I kept it out of her face as she threw up in the bucket. Spotting a small strand, I pulled it back and into my hand as I rubbed her shoulder.

"This sucks,"She muttered as she was done. Handing her her water, I made sure she drank a good amount before letting her give it back.

"I know, lovely. I know."

"You don't have to stay with me, you know? I'm not exactly in a good-"

Cutting her off, proving I would rather be taking care of her than with anyone else, I cupped her face as I kissed her temple. Hearing her sigh, I pulled away to see this glimmer in her eyes despite the bags under them.

"What's on your mind?"

"You'll be a really good dad one day."

"Oh,"I got out as my entire face heated up.

"Just to be clear, I'm the mom."

"Yeah. Yeah. I got that part. I just didn't know you wanted a family too."

"With you, yes. Yes I do. Plus, it makes you blush which makes me happy."

"Well, I like it when you're happy,"I smiled, pushing some of her hair back. "And when you're not sick. Come on. Get back to sleep."

"Maybe I'm actually pregnant,"She shrugged, laying beside me.

"That's not, no. Not possible,"I pointed out.

"I know. Just watching you blush again."

"Go to bed."

"What if I was though?"

"Y/N, bed,"I repeated. Rolling her eyes, she tried to stay on the edge. "Quit worrying about me,"I said one too many times as I pulled her to my chest. Wrapping my arms around her, I listened as her breathing evened out until she fell asleep in my arms.

~ ~ ~

She was mad at me. She's never been mad at me before so I didn't know what to do. She didn't even sleep in the same bed for two days now.

"I'm sorry,"I blurted out as I saw her at the Med-hut, sitting at her spot.

"Whatever,"She shrugged, not meeting my gaze.

"Y/N-"

"You hurt me, Aris. That really stung."

"I didn't mean to. I would never want to hurt you,"I swore.

"Well, you did. You did, and you didn't even care."

"I do care, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"What you said was cruel. It doesn't matter that you weren't sober. You were completely hateful. Do you know what that feels like? To hear the person that saved you say they don't even like what you do."

"I didn't mean it like that. I love you more than anything, and I'm sorry I lied like that."

"You told me you wish I never had to put up with you. You told me that you hate how I pretend to care about you. You told me that I should just leave you now since you'll ruin us eventually. You told me if there was someone better than you wouldn't mind leaving so I can have someone I actually want. You told me that I was just bringing myself down by being with you. You said all these things like it's facts. You made me sound like a fake and that you were lost again and I didn't care to help. Not to mention, that's only what you remember. I sure as hell remember though,"She scowled, wiping her eyes as tears fell.

"Y/N, lovely, angel,"I whispered, kneeling in front of her. Putting her hand in mine, I kissed the back of it before looking up at her, "I love you. I do, and it all came out wrong. I know you love me too, but I just thought about how much better you could do. You have my heart, and I have yours, and I'm sorry I made you think otherwise."

"I know you love me, but I don't know where that's coming from. There will never be anyone better than you. So stop thinking like that. Stop thinking about impossible what if's and think about right now. Please?"She asked, looking at me.

Despite the way her eyes were red and her face was puffy and I felt awful for being the reason, she was still the most beautiful girl to exist. She still has this contagious smile and even better laugh. She gave the most amazing hugs and knew the exact words. She was perfect, and she saw something in me. And I trust her judgment more than anyone's.

"I promise."

~ ~ ~

She was a good kisser. She had me absolutely addicted to her, as if her lips were a drug that I could never not give in to. She was just addicting in general. Not in the sense where I got a nervous rush. In a way that everything only made sense with her.

She was usually very gentle, but she could be so different without even realizing.

Pushing her lips against mine, she stayed on top of me. Just as I got a taste of her she traveled down my jaw, leaving marks on my skin. With her hands on my stomach, she came to the collar of my shirt.

"I want more,"She whispered against my skin. Tensing up at the new words, I held my breath as I tried to think of what to say.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to,"She trailed off.

"I want more too. I do but not yet. Not right now."

"I understand,"She said, smiling as she looked up at me. Laying down, she kept her ear by my chest. She said she liked listening to my heartbeat, that it made her feel safe and loved. That she liked knowing I was alive with her. I told her my heart beats for her alone, and that led to this being her favorite sleeping position the way she said my heartbeat was her favorite melody.

~ ~ ~

I was happier than I ever had been. I was absolutely over the moon.

Running to her, I picked her up in my arms and spun her around. Letting out the most genuine laugh to exist, she held my shoulders until I let her back on the ground.

"We're getting out. We're actually getting out,"She repeated.

"I know. We're going to be free. We're finally going to be free,"I grinned, wiping a tear as I kept my eyes on her.

"We'll get to do everything we talked about. We're actually going to be together forever and start a family. We'll do everything we dreamed of,"She whispered, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her ear against my chest, taking a breath as she heard my heartbeat.

"I know. We're going to have everything. We're going to have it all,"I whispered back, kissing her forehead while closing my eyes to fully feel her embrace.

"I'll protect you out there. I'll keep you safe,"She muttered.

"I won't need protecting. Okay? Just let my worry about you and you worry about yourself."

"I'm not going to do that, but nice try."

"Y/N-"

"Aris,"She cut me off in a teasing voice. Rolling my eyes, I sighed as I kept her close, wondering how I could get so lucky.

I would have it all. I would have her and freedom and our dreams. It was all going to be okay.

~ ~ ~

"No! No! No! This isn't how it's supposed to be!"I cried, curling up to my beautiful angel's side. Holding her, I kept telling her that I was more sorry for this than anything I had done. That I would take it all back if she could be alive. That I would never have met her if it meant she got to live the life she deserved. That I would have taken the bullet since it was meant for me. That if I knew she would actually die for me I would have moved out of the way faster.

"I love you. I could never not love you. I will never love anyone else. I will never even look at anyone else. Like I said I would, my heart will only belong to you,"I whispered, putting my head by her chest. As I was met with more silence I understood why she was always listening to mine.

Because one day she wouldn't be able to.

It just wasn't supposed to be because she would never open her eyes again.

#aris x reader #tmr aris #aris tmr #aris maze runner #the maze runner #tmr #one shot #aris jones #heavy angst #angst with a sad ending #angst with no happy ending #hurt/comfort #hurt/angst #emotional hurt/comfort

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