#hoping for a healthy middle ground | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notafunkiller · 11 months ago

Text

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #boss!bucky barnes #boss!bucky #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #rich!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

4K notes · View notes

poppy-s-rampage · 3 months ago

Text

Once a Hero.

-Prologue-

Danny Phantom fought with the knowledge that at any given time he could be stricken dead. With the knowledge that his own parents, the people who brought him into this world, could be the ones to take him out permanently. The Job was already half done after all.

But no matter what, no matter his adversaries, Danny held strong. Despite the constant threat of the GIW and his parents, despites his rogues’ shenanigans and Vlad’s scheming, despite the citizen’s ungratefulness, he held his ground. Always staying true to his beliefs.

Yes, he made mistakes ,terrible ones. Yes, he has done things he would forever be ashamed of. But he never let others take responsibility for his actions. The very proof being his existence as Phantom.

There is no denying it, Danny Phantom/Fenton is a hero.

An existence to whom every victory comes hand to hand with tragedy.

An existence favored by fate.

And fate is known to be a cruel mistress.

~~~

He should have known something was up. It was too good to be true. He should have trusted his instinct. But he ignored it, choosing hope instead of the very thing that kept him alive all these years. All it took was one mistake for everything to domino into a nuclear warhead that quite literally took his everything.

And now, there he is on all four in the middle of a crater of what once was Amity Park and its surroundings. His ears ringing only able to hear the sounds of his own screams.

The once menace, once protector of a city too soon departed wailed in agony. Clutching at his wounds with a strength that reopened his sloppily made stitches. His devastated wails, only interrupted by his sobbed breath and hiccups. His throat was ripped to shreds, tainted ectoplasm pooling into his mouth and lungs while some got projected out with each wail.

Rivers of tears cascaded down his face burning his already bloodshot eyes. His unstable form glitching from ghost to human to something in between.

His once healthy balanced core was now struggling to remain whole. Cracks appearing all over, life and death fighting to preserve their precious Halfa’s existence. Danny felt his body and core beginning to give out. His consciousness finally fading. His body slowly being engulfed into the cold familiar embrace of death.

He fell on his back. His wails dying to choked wet sobs and coughs. Through his tears, Danny could only vaguely see the smoke covered nightsky. Ash falling slowly around him like snowflakes.

He could feel the cold creeping up his limbs then gripping his chest. His already dying heart being embraced by a type of cold even his core couldn’t dream to reproduce. Phantom finally fell silent, his unseeing eyes staring at the starless sky above.

Danny in his last few coherent thoughts felt the pain of his core shattering and reforming itself. It felt like his entire being was set on fire before being melded back together. He felt familiar arms cradling him close to their unbeating heart. The familiar ticking of a clock luring him into a dreamless rest.

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

Masterpost!

Chapter 1!

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

Author notes:

My brain vomiting this at 3 am. I am sorry for any catastrophic grammar and english, that would be my brain short circuiting from lack of sleep. I intend to hopefully continue this story wherever it may go. You’re welcome to suggest anything or add yourself something to it.

#dcxdp #dp x dc #dpxdc #angst #i wrote this at 3am give me some slack #Let's see how much trauma I can fit in such a small body #How much emotional damage can I inflict to almost every character of his story?#Fluff becomes sweeter after some gut wrenching angst #Don't worry I am not anything near Gege or Spider-man writers #I am shit at writing #There needs to be an equilibrium between angst comedy and fluff.#I like happy endings but I need to make it worth it #I need your tears laugh or smiles to survive #My brain chose depression deal with it #That aside hope you enjoyed the read #once a hero #prologue #Poppywrites!

173 notes · View notes

g-hughes · 5 months ago

Text

Small Fry - L. Hughes

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celebration

synopsis: it's the middle of the night and you can't sleep, the only thing that can soothe it, is a late night run for chicken nuggets

word count: 709

warnings: pregnancy, cravings, fluff

It was almost 2AM, and you were wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The windows were open, letting in the soft breeze that was rolling off the lake. Surprisingly, all the boys in the house had gone to bed somewhat early, tired and exhausted after a full day of boating and wake surfing. You had called it a night around 10PM, fully preparing to sleep like the dead after having a long day, however, the growing child in your stomach had other plans.

You couldn’t sleep, your back ached and you were starving. You were at the point in your pregnancy where no matter what you did, your body ached and no matter how much you ate, you were still hungry. Whoever told you that the last trimester was full of bliss and wonder had lied to you. You had already ventured down stairs once to see if there was anything in the house that would satisfy your cravings, and you were sadly disappointed that amongst the very full fridge and pantry, not a single thing would suffice.

You considered waking Luke, but you were hoping that the baby in your belly would stop kicking and you would just go back to sleep. He hadn’t moved a single inch despite your huffing, puffing and moving. But the curl haired boy next to you remained sprawled out, his lips parted as soft snores left his mouth. He looked peaceful with the slightest bit of a sunburn across his cheeks.

You hated how he could just sleep so peacefully while you were being used as a personal punching bag.

You huffed again, adjusting and sitting up higher in bed, crossing your arms over your growing belly.

Luke must’ve sensed your unease, as he rolled over, slinging his arm over your belly, “Sleep,” he mumbled.

"Can't," You sighed, and ran your hands through his curls.

"What's wrong?" Luke was now waking up, and looked up at you with his big blue eyes, "Baby okay?"

"No. I'm hungry, and fat," You said, and Luke sat up, looking at you, "I want nuggets."

"How did I guess," He smiled, and leaned up to kiss you. He pushed back the covers, and rolled out of bed. His pajama pants were slung low on his hips, and he grabbed a sweatshirt from the ground. He walked over to you, helping you out of bed and pulled you up, "Come on, mama. Let's go find you nuggets."

You were thankful that the McDonalds by the lake house was open 24-hours, and so was Luke. Mood swings hadn't been easy on you or him, and he was worried that if he got there and they were closed, it could be a long ride back home. Luke ended up ordering himself something too, and drove back to the lake house. He grabbed the bag of food as you waddled your way down to the dock, the moon high in the sky lighting the way.

The warm Michigan air felt good, as you happily ate away at your nuggets. You and Luke talked about names again, throwing around both girls and boys names since you had decided against knowing the gender.

"Luke," You asked your boyfriend, and he looked at you, "Can I have your fries? Don’t judge me, the baby’s hungry."

"The baby, huh?" Luke smirked, and handed you his fries, "What about. . . Arthur for a boy?"

"Like that bald rabbit from the kids show?"

"Okay guess that's a no. . . Thomas?"

"I like Thomas. For a girl, I still like Eleanor."

Luke smiled softly to himself, he liked the name too. In the back of his mind, he always wanted to name his child after his parents. They had given him everything, they had taught him the game of hockey, drove him all over for the sport and stood by his side during the good times and bad. His only fear was not being half the parent that they were. But as you told him over and over, as long as their child was happy, healthy and taken care of, they were doing their job correctly.

And a couple months later when their baby girl, Luke knew right away that there was no better name than Caroline Eleanor Hughes.

note: hi, yes, welcome to my hockey blog :) requests are open! and I hope to have a masterlist outline posted soon!

#Luke hughes imagine #Luke hughes fan fic #Luke Hughes fan fiction #Luke hughes x reader #Luke hughes blurb #Luke hughes fic #lh43 #hockey imagine

326 notes · View notes

flowerwrites06 · 1 year ago

Text

forest bride — myg

FOREST BRIDE | Min Yoongi | Oneshot | Requested by Anon

Original Request: hii i would like to request an arranged marriage au that turned out as a healthy relationship, unlike where oc came from y'know family full of mistreatment and favoritism. any member is fine! thank u! Plot: The business transaction of a marriage between two previous warring clans takes an unexpected turn. Pairing: Yoongi x OC (Name: Kiku) Genre: Historical Inspired | Arranged Marriage Rating: 18+ Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: emotionally distanced family dynamics, emotional abuse and bullying from family members, minor character death (mentioned), angst, explicit sexual content (unprotected, gentle). Author's Note: This was soo much fun to do! I hope you like reading it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this <3

Kiku was a quiet daughter amongst children of four in the Moon Clan. She was in the middle of the line of birth, often keeping to herself while her father doted on her brothers and her mother babied Hanaka, her sister. Kaito, the oldest son of their family, was the only person who ever paid attention Kiku.

He taught her how to play the Koto when they were younger. The soft plucking of strings were the only sounds she made in her household. Her mother, Keiko complimented the sound with the assumption that it was Hanaka. When Kaito explained that it was Kiku, their mother pointed the lack of precision at the ends of each verse.

Kiku felt safe and comforted under the wing of Kaito.

But fate had other plans.

Kaito grew sick after a hunting wound turned gangrenous and the winter only worsened his condition. When he passed, Kiku felt the searing and back-breaking weight of her family's scrutiny.

Suddenly she was no longer Kaito's companion. She was a mouth they didn't want to feed.

On the fresh cusp of spring, her parents unceremoniously announced her arrangement to marry the chief of the Onyx clan. Their rival.

"Kaito said they were dangerous," Kiku said as she knelt on the ground of their main living area. Her parents stared down at her while Hanaka and their younger brother Haruki sat on the cushioned mat.

"Kaito isn't here. Don't name him when we haven't finished mourning, stupid girl," Keiko spoke through gritted teeth.

"You will marry Chief Min Yoongi and give this family an important alliance," Daiki said with a finality to his tone.

The Onyx Clan was notorious for raiding other clans, enslaving their high-born families and treating any foreign spouses like dirt. Preventing them from causing any problems in the Moon Clan was to keep them at bay with something that they didn't think was a risk.

Keiko would never send Hanaka to a place like that. Perhaps Kiku was prepared specifically for this very alliance, forcing themselves not to love her so they could make a difficult decision. Perhaps that was just her own heart trying to find a glimpse of love in a place that had none for her since the beginning.

Kiku lowered her head in a solemn acceptance, her dress still black and her heart still raw from mourning the only family member who loved her. "I will do as you wish."

The wedding flourished during a misty, cold morning just at the skirts of dawn where purple kissed the edges of the mountains. Kiku wore a white dress of pretty silk, embroidered in both ivory and crimson thread as if the cloth bled. A white veil laid over her head giving the world around her more of a misty vision.

They held the wedding in the central border between the Moon and Onyx Clan. There was a gentle plain where it was decorated with flowers, divided with wood and a tea set prepared on a small wooden table. Her father walked her over to the table.

Kiku forced herself not to look at her groom just yet. Instead staring at the teapot in front of them, spouting a plume of steam with the faint hint of jasmine and honey in her nose. Tea ceremonies during weddings were a common tradition amongst both clans. Thankfully, it was a tea that Kiku enjoyed but the symbol of it dawned on her like a heavy weight on her back.

Sharing tea with a man outside her family was a sign that she was now connected to him. Bonded to him. A man that Kiku hadn't even looked at yet. So she gained some bravery within herself and stared up.

Min Yoongi wasn't a large man but he was taller than her. In this vulnerable state, he looked like a looming statue. It wasn't necessarily his stature but his presence that created weight. His black eyes pierced deeply into her as if peeling off layers of every protective sense she had of herself.

A deep scar ran down his eye, making it a little greyer than the left eye. His lips were pursed and a little pink while his pitch black hair was long to the nape. Short hair was often a sign of a deadly warrior. Someone who killed many without mercy and had little honour. At least that was what her parents told her.

The esteemed monk stepped to the front of the altar and began to recite ancient chants of a bonding ritual. Kiku tried to focus on the words but she couldn't stop keeping Yoongi's gaze. His eyes softened just then when she wasn't loosening her gaze either. As if he was waiting for her to look at him.

For a brief moment, Kiku noticed something gentle behind that demeanour. Or perhaps it was yet again her mind tricking her into feeling something positive when her world was turning upside down and she couldn't do anything about it. Yoongi glanced briefly over to the monk as they stepped to the table.

He waved his hands as he spoke his chants before gesturing to a young boy.

It was the father's duty to pour the tea. So Daiki poured it with a solemn face, almost bored. The waft of jasmine and honey coated her nose, giving her some comfort.

The groom shared his tea with the bride first. Yoongi's hands were veined heavily as if he were training in the dark hours of the morning before coming here. He reached out carefully, slow enough so Kiku didn't feel shocked. He pulled at the fabric and revealed her face, the cold morning breeze kissing her heated up skin.

Yoongi picked the tea cup, softly placing the brim of the cup to her lips.

Kiku kept her eyes on him right until she felt the warm honey touch of the tea on her tongue. She slowly pressed her lips together as he pulled the cup away. Just as Yoongi's cup clinked down, she picked up her own cup.

Yoongi lowered his head a little, making it easy to her to gently tip the cup. He took a sip, his throat bobbed up and down before she placed it back on the table.

The ceremony had been sealed. Even as Kiku foolishly tried to look back and say goodbye to her family, her mother was already fixing Hanaka's hair and her father continued speaking to Haruki. Niether of them gave any indication that they wished for a goodbye so Kiku turned back without a word.

Yoongi held her hand, just barely brushing at first to ensure Kiku would respond.

Kiku curled her fingers around his, allowing him to fully intertwine together before making way to the horses.

Yoongi clasped her waist, pushing her up to sit on the horse. Then he sat behind her, grabbing the reins as the scent of rain wafted in Kiku's nose.

The air turned wet to the touch and she noticed the darkened splotches on the tree bark of a soft drizzle slowly turning to gentle rain.

"Are you sure you don't want to speak to them?" Yoongi uttered his first question as her husband and Kiku wasn't sure how to respond or feel.

Kiku glanced briefly at her family, seeing Haruki rubbing his brow in boredom while her mother was still having a conversation with Hanaka, touching her chin. Still none of them tried to look her away. "It's alright."

Yoongi didn't order the horse to move for a few minutes before a small hum vibrated through his chest, tingling her back. "Very well," he said. He made a clicking noise and the horse began to gallop at a steady pace.

The forest that was considered Moon Clan's territory was an identical stream of teal leaved trees and small wildflowers, clustered amongst light brown mushrooms and wet lands. Kiku enjoyed walking through them purely because it was peace outside of her household.

However, Onyx Clan's territory harboured something so different that it almost felt magical. There were still those collections of teal leaved trees that wafted a sweet scent. Other than that, she saw patches of yellow and pink flowers, flat mushrooms that blushed at the edges and pretty deep green vines that wrapped around dark tree bark.

The sun began peeking a sharp light at the edge of the mountains, making the distant rivers look like melted gold.

The Onyx Clan itself was a beautiful village, with calmly sleeping cows and horses in their stables. Night food stalls open for business as families were out to eat chilli noodles and honeycomb candy. Moon Clan was so used to clean diets and fresh fish that the deep, spiced notes of the stalls overwhelmed Kiku, reminding her even more than she wasn't in her old household anymore.

People of the Onyx Clan gave way when they noticed Yoongi riding into the village. Their faces filled with smiles and excited whispers as they noticed her white dress. A little girl waved shyly at her.

Kiku hesitated but waved back with a faint smile.

As they arrived to the main cluster of houses for the high-born Min family, Kiku saw a group of people waiting for them.

Yoongi jumped off the house with a thud before gently holding onto Kiku again and helping her onto the ground as well. A small set of stairs led up to the cluster of houses.

When they reached, the older woman in centre gave a kind smile. By the way she was dressed in a beautiful silk kimono and the way Yoongi bowed low when seeing her, Kiku knew she was the matriarch of the family. Seeing so much kindness after her grief was something Kiku hadn't prepared herself to expect. So for a moment, she felt lost and unable to respond. She managed to give a wide enough smile.

"Bloody hell, Yoongi, you scared the shit out of her," a young woman from the side chuckled. Not in mockery but just jovial nature.

"Yun," the older woman reprimanded with a serious expression. "Manners." She turned back to Kiku with a smile. "Sorry, my dear, I understand you're in a new place. And our clans haven't had the best relationship but you are family now." She reached out and touched her hand.

Kiku could've been moved to tears at a warm mother's touch but she kept herself strong.

"My name is Hwayoung," she said. "These are my daughters Nari and Yun. I have a son named Yeong but he's away on a trip and will return tomorrow."

Kiku nodded. "It's lovely to meet you."

Hwayoung's flickered to Yoongi. "Let's have dinner and then you both can go rest."

After their dinner concluded and Kiku's belly was warm, they convened back to their bed chambers.

Kiku was given night dresses and also new clothes for the next few days. Especially since her family didn't give her any dress to take except for one.

For a while, the room was left empty with just Kiku watching the fire flicker before skimming through the books laid upon the mantle. It was mostly war and history stories along with some manuals on mastering the sword. Kiku wished she had some books on the Koto to play and fill her days that didn't have to do with having Yoongi's children. But she wasn't sure.

Hwayoung and Yoongi's sisters seemed nice enough but there was no way of telling whether it was a momentary ruse. After all, they couldn't be rude to her in front of everyone. Although a part of Kiku wanted to believe that their kind faces were genuine.

The door then clicked open. Yoongi walked through, wearing a relaxed black silk shirt and his hair tousled as if he had just taken a bath. He closed the door behind him, expression taken aback for a moment as if he hadn't expected someone in his bed chambers before softening.

"Do you have everything you need?" Yoongi asked.

"Yes, thank you." Kiku walked forward to him as he sat at the edge of the bed. She didn't say anything yet but Yoongi's throat bobbed up and down.

Stammering, he said. "We can just sleep."

Kiku blinked curiously. Of all the things she expected, this wasn't one of them. It was relieving that he was kind but to completely let her adjust to the new place was not on the list of expectation. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Yoongi said, keeping his eyes on her. "It's been a long day. We should both rest."

Kiku intertwined her fingers together and nodded, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. "Alright. Good night."

In the morning, Kiku awoke to an empty space in her bed. When one of the maidservants entered to serve her, she explained that Yoongi went out to train early in the morning just before breakfast to keep him awake.

Kiku hoped she didn't look scared to deter him into performing any marital duties. Perhaps throughout the day, she could try to comfort him. She knew what she was getting into.

After taking a warm bath with the maidservant being surprisingly gentle and kind, Kiku was called into breakfast by Hwayoung.

The Min family gathered under a gazebo structure made from black wood. It was round and the food laid out smelled like home in a place that hadn't been her home for a full day yet. Baked fish, soups, rice, fruits for sweetness. It was a spread for something that usually rushed in her family. Or at least Kiku would have to eat quickly.

Kiku sat down next to Yoongi while Yun and Nari continued on their conversation. Yoongi's brother, Yeong came in from his trip and he looked a softer compared to his older brother and smiled often. Usually making jokes with his mother.

Yoongi ate fish and seemed to prefer the soups over rice.

While the others were deep in their conversation, Kiku leaned in slightly. "How was training?" she asked.

Yoongi looked up, again a little shocked but quickly softened. "It was good."

"Yoongi gets quite sore after his training, Kiku," Yun said with a small smirk. "Maybe later in the afternoon, you should give him a massage. Lord knows he needs a good one."

Yoongi glared for a moment but Kiku found it endearing.

"Yun," Hwayoung reprimanded but with a playful air this time rather than the disciplinary one of last night. "Kiku should not be forced to do anything she doesn't want to."

Kiku stammered. "I'm alright with it. I used to give shoulder massages to my brother all the time."

Yoongi cleared his throat. "It's really alright." He nodded.

Kiku smiled politely, lowering her head.

"Perhaps Kiku should come spend the day with us since brother insists on being boring," Yun said.

"I am new here," Kiku said.

"A tour then," Nari said.

Hwayoung perked up. "You can take her down to the markets and get some silks or jewellery. There's lots of music playing there too."

Kiku blinked curiously. "Would there be any Koto players?"

"You like the Koto?" Hwayoung asked.

"My brother taught me how to play." Kiku's heart clenched at the mention of him again. It had been so lovely to be in a place like this. How nice would it have been if their family all spoke so easily to one another.

"That's sweet. How is your brother now?"

"He's passed away," Kiku said.

"I'm sorry, my dear." Hwayoung's eyes turned sad. Both of empathy for her but something else. "I lost my husband a while ago as well. I understand it can feel empty." The table turned quiet for a few moments to remember their father

"Thank you." Kiku's words were simple but Hwayoung didn't fully realise just how much comforting words directed at her. Like a warm, tight hug that she could cry into.

Kiku spent her time walking around with Yun and Nari as they explained all the ins and outs of the clan's main village. They had three smaller towns that used the same supplies and answered to Yoongi as Chief but this was the clan that Yoongi's ancestors had built and it was beautiful.

Nari took her to the bookshop and silk store. Kiku bought herself a pretty purple silk dress while also getting books on poetry that she used to enjoy listening to. A poetess would visit their clan when they were younger and Kaito would work in the shadow puppet shows to re-enact them.

It was one of the few things Kiku was allowed to watch with the family while helping Kaito work with the puppets.

Then they went to the food stalls. Kiku ate spicy dumpling noodles with mushrooms foraged from the forest. Apparently they helped with childbearing as the old woman stated, clearly knowing that it was going to be her who bears the next Chief. Kiku hadn't quite let that sink in but even when she did think about it, it wasn't a horrible thought.

Kiku, Yun and Nari then made their way to the training grounds once their bellies were full and their cheeks hurt from laughing. Kiku hadn't laughed or smiled like this since Kaito made jokes to cheer her up. While they did bicker, Yun and Nari seemed like they were close and loving to one another.

Kiku wondered if Hanaka and her would have ever been like that if their mother didn't get involved so much.

At the centre of the training grounds, Kiku saw Yoongi training with his younger brother Yeong. He spoke instructions for Yeong to follow, keeping one hand behind his back as if to hinder himself from making any strong moves. Yeong kept his hands tight on the hilt of the sword, swinging right against Yoongi's parries as the clang of steel whistled in the air.

Kiku found herself seeing the concentrated scrunch of his dark brows, sharp jawline a little clenched as he parried another attack. His black hair was tied back with chunks of it falling over the frame of his face. "He does this every morning."

Yun hummed. "You like what you see?"

Kiku cleared her throat. "It's nice he's teaching his brother."

"Yeong should focus on his studies too but he keeps running to brother for more training," Nari said. "Yoongi never refuses. He likes training for no reason."

"Ever since father died, brother trains constantly. There's no war but he always says there might be danger," Yun said. "Even with your alliance, he's still weary." Nari quickly nudged her arm and for the first time, Yun felt a little uncomfortable.

Kiku pursed her lips together. She wondered if Yoongi was suspicious that her father would run an attack on them regardless of their alliance. While Kiku was a small risk to lose in the family, her father still may break the deal. She had little trust in her father and wouldn't be surprised if he wishes to prove some kind of point.

As she shifted in and out of her thoughts, Kiku saw Yoongi turn to notice them watching. Notice her watching. Kiku tried to look down at the wrapped silk dress in her arms, hoping it wouldn't look too suspicious. Yoongi turned to tell Yeong to take a break before making his way over to Kiku.

"Looks like your husband wishes to speak to you." Yun smirked, returning to her demeanour as if nothing happened. She pushed Nari towards Yeong to speak to him instead.

Yoongi raised his brow as his sisters rushed away. Beads of sweat had formed on his hairline as he met Kiku's gaze. "They didn't bother you too much?"

Kiku was shocked by what sounded like a genuine question. "No. They were lovely. They showed me around the main town."

"I can see that," Yoongi said before giving his sword away to a servant. "Come with me."

Kiku nodded and followed him out of the training grounds.

They moved from the training grounds back into the cluster of houses where the Min family resided. Yoongi escorted her to their personal house and Kiku wondered whether Yoongi wanted to pursue their marital duties now that he was given time.

It was strange but Kiku's heart pounded not quite out of fear or worry. It was simply curiosity and perhaps even a little excitement. Everything Yoongi had done so far was give her comfort.

As they entered the main house, a beautiful polished Koto stood in the living area.

Kiku's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the Koto which had beautiful ivory finishes and a soft chair to sit on while playing. "Is this for me?" she asked in a low tone.

"You said you used to play Koto. I figured you'd like to play in your free time," Yoongi said. "Your parents didn't pack much for your trip." He shrugged.

Kiku's lips parted as she reached out and touched the Koto. Memories of playing with her brother and learning every note with him burst in her like sweetness. Tears formed a thin gloss on her eyes, as she took a deep breath.

"Is it alright?" Yoongi asked.

"It's perfect," Kiku said. She turned and smiled. "Thank you. You didn't need to do that."

"It was nothing," Yoongi said. "It's your home now too."

Kiku nodded as her heart swelled.

"Also if my mother starts giving you too many lessons, I can get you a secret room."

Kiku let out a small chuckle. "It's okay. I'd like a lesson."

Yoongi pressed his lips together, a hint of a soft smile forming on his features which only made Kiku's heart warm.

Kiku's time in the Onyx Clan was far more pleasant and loving than she ever expected. Before she even realised, four months had passed. Kiku spent days with Yun and Nari, had meals with Hwayoung and then spent a quiet night with Yoongi. It was still innocent between the two of them but she enjoyed those quiet moments sharing things about their day. Yoongi still didn't speak on any personal things and Kiku didn't want to pry on how he got the scar on his eye or about his father's death. But it was still nice.

Kiku nearly forgot that she had another life prior to these few months. It was only when her younger brother, Haruki came to visit the clan. Discomfort returned to her chest, aching and making her twitch. She barely spoke to Haruki and every time they had a conversation, it was malicious. Haruki found joy in insulting her and demanding her to do things as a way to mimic their father.

Kiku reminded herself that she wasn't in that place anymore. This was her home too. She wore her new purple silk dress and pinned her hair up while the servants prepared a tea set on the floor table.

Haruki entered the private house as escorted by the servants. A childish grimace on his face as always but his chest puffed to look like father.

Kiku kept sited at the table.

Haruki stood over her for a few moments as if waiting for her to stand. "You wouldn't bother to see your brother at the border."

"You've come at a busy hour," Kiku said. Truthfully, she wanted to be in the warm comfort of her home to breathe easy and hide her shaking fingers. "What did you need?"

Haruki scoffed and sat down, tapping the side of the teacup. "Father's dead."

Kiku had little love for her father but she still sit in a moment of silence, unable to know what do with the news. "What happened?"

"We need more supplies," Haruki said, ignoring her question.

It was courtesy anyway so she didn't ask again. "The Moon clan has spare granaries for those occasions."

"We have an alliance." Haruki eyed her up and down. "I'd expect you to tend to it since you're clearly not tending to any children."

"What happened to the granaries, Haruki?" Kiku asked, emphasising his name.

Haruki pursed her lips, keeping his eyes on her gaze and waiting for her to look down. When she didn't, Haruki's face twitched. "We'd been using it."

"For what?"

"That's none of your concern," Haruki said.

"So not emergencies then," Kiku said.

"You can't speak to me that way." Haruki chuckled bitterly.

"I'm the Lady of this territory and your older sister, I can speak to you in whatever tone is necessary." Kiku narrowed her gaze. "What happened?"

Haruki tightened his jaw like a stubborn child. "We'd been taking from it for the banquets. Father and mother celebrated a lot because you were gone."

"And after brother's death," Kiku said.

"Don't talk about brother."

"He was my brother too. More a brother than you ever were."

Poison laced in his voice. "Kaito spent time with you because he felt bad for you. You were this pathetic thing crouching around everywhere. The only time people said anything nice about you was in order to fuck you. Don't pretend you were someone special to him or Yoongi." Haruki gestured to the door. "He's not even willing to put a baby in you." He chuckled.

"I don't appreciate being spoken for, Chief Min," Yoongi's deep voice shook through the room.

Haruki turned his head, expression turning sour.

Yoongi walked into the house, shadows forming harsh lines on his face as something dark flashes across his expression. For a moment, he looked like the exact nightmarish image of what the Moon clan thought of the Min family. Even barefooted steps added a heavy echo in the air that it sent chills down her own spine despite the fact she knew this demeanour wasn't for her intimidation. "You can have your supplies at the border."

Haruki deflated as if letting out a sigh of relief. "I should've gone to you first then, Chief. It seems I expected too much of my silly sister." He gave a triumphant smile to her.

"Of course, she made the mistake of thinking you were far too competent." Yoongi intertwined his fingers together, veined and hardened from training.

Haruki's expression turned again, cheeks reddening. "Excuse me?"

"Don't worry, I won't make that mistake." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Perhaps we'll have a charity basket at the border."

Haruki stood to his feet quickly, shaking and trembling like a little boy. "You go too far."

"Do I? Because it seems as if you've come here asking for more than the agreed alliance and proceeding to disrespect my wife," Yoongi said. "The way I see it, giving you a charity basket is more mercy than you deserve currently. I suggest you take it quietly."

Haruki had all the inflated confidence their parents bloated into him from childhood. If he was even the slightest bit stupider, he would speak and in a brief second of that stupidity, he almost did. But then he glared at Kiku. "You'd let him talk to your family like that?"

Anger spread through her chest. Now he wanted to be family, when it benefited him. "If only you were true family then perhaps not."

Haruki grimaced, giving a softer glare to Yoongi before turning on his heel and stomping out of the house.

Kiku let out a deep, shaky breath as her spine began to ache from the tension. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her calm again, taking the scent of wood and warmth in her comfortable home. She heard Yoongi moving until she heard his hum right at her ear.

"Quite the unpleasant family you have," Yoongi mused.

Kiku couldn't help but let out a small, saddened chuckle. "Kaito was the only good one."

Yoongi turned and sat down next to her, shoulders pressed.

The heaviness gave Kiku a wave of comfort like the way his breath hit the back of his neck when they slept.

"If he comes again, I'll ask the guards to delegate him to me or my mother," Yoongi said. "There's no need for you to speak to them if you don't want to."

"You won't be burdened by them?" Kiku asked, turning her head and finding his face incredibly close.

"No one should speak like that to you especially not in our own house." Yoongi waved his hand.

Kiku smiled as her heart burst into little butterflies, creating a lump in her throat. She leaned in and pressed a small kiss on his cheek.

Yoongi turned his head just as Kiku was pulling away, their noses brushed against each other. Dark eyes pierced into her, keeping her still in her position even though her body ached for how close they were. Yoongi kissed her lips, shyly at first to help her adjust to the action.

The tantalizing warmth that passed through Kiku pushed her to lean into the kiss, cupping his cheek. Yoongi's hands held onto her lower back pulling her close until she was pressed flush against his chest.

His lips were hot against hers, keeping his grip on her firm but so soft and gentle. Yoongi only broke the kiss for a moment as Kiku caught a deep breath before pressing her lips again. She gripped onto the fabric of his shirt until Yoongi pulled her enough for her to straddle him completely.

Yoongi held her face in his hand, pausing their kiss again to move his lips down to her neck and jawline. Every ache that she felt from her encounter with Haruki melted away at his touch. He pulled at the pins of her hair, letting it fall down the trail of her back. His fingers traced the length of her spine, making her shiver. Tongue grazed over the soft spot on her neck as her hips began to sway against his own.

Yoongi let out a small groan, lifting his head up. His chest heaved in desperation, gripping onto her hair and keeping their foreheads pressed together.

Kiku reached in again but Yoongi kept her in place.

"Are you sure?" Yoongi asked in a rasped voice that made her tremble.

Kiku nodded. "I'm sure." She reached in and kissed him again, deeper and pleading to ensure he knew this was what she wanted.

But a knock on the door startled them.

Yoongi let out a small, frustrated sigh. "What is it?" he asked.

Kiku got off his lap slowly with a clear of her throat, trying to fix her hair as the door opened to a servant.

"Sorry, sire. Your mother needs your audience for something." The servant kept their head bowed as if already knowing the position he could've caught them in.

Yoongi turned and gave Kiku a soft look.

Kiku gave a reassuring smile, patting his arm before he got to his feet and walked away. Leaving her heart pounding manically.

Another week passed since their kiss. Yoongi wasn't distant necessarily but it did feel like nothing changed. Kiku wondered perhaps he didn't enjoy it. He was the Chief and had many choices of his own. Kiku was an alliance marriage. Any affection that they developed may have just been a spur of the moment as they lived under the same roof. Despite all the explanations she's made in her head, it still twinged something in Kiku. With the kindness received from Yoongis family, she imagined that something would be wrong. She traded a kinder family for a husband that didn't quite enjoy her affection. She'd take it though.

This morning, the family sat around the table for breakfast. Yoongi gave her a glance here and there but it was still distant. Kiku tried to smile back but he immediately looked away.

"So Kiku has been immensely calm these past few days," Yun said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Ma says it's often a sign of...something on the way." Her eyes flickered down to gesture to her stomach.

Kiku's cheeks burned, stammering. "No, it's not that." She shook her head. "I had my bleeding." She couldn't quite hide the slight disappointment in her tone. Kiku never thought about children especially with the experiences she had with her own family. But something about the silence from Yoongi made grasp at unnecessary desires of children or anything to melt off the ice between them.

Yun hummed, pouting. "That's a shame, I wanted nieces and nephews." She poked at her food, the light breeze making strands of her dark hair dance.

"Don't pressure them," Nari said, her tone serious. "They need to be relaxed when they do it."

"Girls, quiet." Hwayoung narrowed her gaze, letting out a defeated sigh. "Don't listen to them." She smiled. "These things take time."

Yoongi stayed silent and Kiku herself couldn't find anything to say but give a reassuring smile. Even though she worried Yoongi won't come near her a second time.

Kiku played her Koto in the afternoon while Yoongi was out supervising the patrol. Usually it would take him till evening to come back. But today he came in early, stomping and breathing out with frustration. A strange sight from someone who was so calm. Raven black hair glistened from sweat, patches of dust latched onto his skin and his jaw terribly tightened as if it might make break his teeth.

Strangely enough, it was relieving to see some emotion in Yoongi after all the distance. Kiku stood from the Koto. "What's wrong?" She asked gently.

"Your damn brother," he seethed. "His men attacked one of my scouts." Yoongi poured water into a goblet and chugged it.

Kiku's heart dropped. "What?"

"Apparently they'd been disturbing the peace. But they didn't plan for me to come." His scar looked deeper and darker when he was angry. "Mother was weary about them for a while but I didn't think they'd stoop to petty little violence."

Kiku lowered her head, almost in shame. Even though she felt more connected to Yoongi's family, her name and identity was still attached to the people she grew up with. It was embarrassing seeing others witness the pettiness that she endured her whole life. The same pettiness that Kaito hated. "I'm sorry," she said.

Yoongi stilled for a moment, dark brows furrowed as he turned to Kiku. "Why're you apologizing?"

Kiku stammered. "It's my family. They're like this, our parents made you all seem like monsters and Haruki would do anything to make himself feel like father would be proud." She shook her head.

"Well, that's their mistake, not yours." Yoongi spoke under her breath but Kiku clung to every word and kept it close to her chest.

She reached out and touched his arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

Yoongi stared at her deeply and so long that Kiku felt like layers of her soul were being peeled. Then he broke the gaze and tried to walk back to their bedroom. "No, it's okay."

Kiku's stomach clenched as once again, the ice began to form. But this time she wasn't going relent quietly. "Yoongi, you don't have to protect my feelings. If this is too much of a burden to you then I can leave."

Yoongi stopped, looking over his shoulder to her. The expression on his face, harsh. "What?"

Kiku dug her nails into her palms to give herself some form of strength. "I can handle my family, I've lived with them my whole life. But...I don't want you to be married to someone you don't truly want."

Yoongi's throat bobbed up and down. "Is that what you think?"

"I don't know," she spoke honestly. "I just know that you became distant after what happened and I—I'm unsure."

Yoongi fully turned his body around, stepping closer. "If you're unsure, then you talk to me."

"I can't speak my wishes so easily." Kiku's voice lowered as he moved closer until she could catch wafts of the forest from him. "It's not something I'm used to."

Yoongi's expression softened. He rubbed in between his brows. "I'm a little too used to my family just saying what they think." He looked up to her. "I'm sorry. I should've checked on you."

Kiki's stomach felt warm. staying silent for a moment just to ensure what she heard was right. Then she spoke in a small voice. "It's okay."

Yoongi took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers together turning her world into a burst of stars. "I will not make you go back to that place again." He muttered. "I want you here."

"You want me here?" She asked again, just to hear him say it so it could echo inside her whenever darker voices grew too loud.

"Right here. With me." Yoongi tightened his hold. "Will you do that?"

Kiku nodded, a burning behind her eyes. "I will, I promise." She smiled, touching his chest to make herself feel grounded again.

"We still need to deal with your stupid brother," Yoongi said. "He's quickly turning into a pest than an ally."

Kiku could spend years imagining Haruki as this invincible monster, similar to when they were children. But this was real now. Haruki wasn't Kaito. He was stupid and petty even when he tried to hurt her. There were a million ways to get rid of people like that. "I might have an idea."

As Kiku requested, Yoongi organized a meeting at the border between Onyx and Moon territory. A canopy was erected with a floor table where they all sat together. The edge of dawn painted the mountains and tree in a burnished gold and the scent of morning dew was the only comfort in Kiku's pool of anxiety.

She was prepared for this meeting and the decisions entailed but rarely had she spoken up to Haruki before. When Kiku tried, her mother or father would reprimand and punish her.

Even as Haruki walked to the canopy, she felt a prickle of being scolded in a few minutes. But she had push it down. She wasn't Haruki's sister here, she was a Lady of the Onyx Clan. The Chief's wife.

"This pompous meeting surely isn't about the little scuffle between scouts," Haruki said. "It's a bit of harmless fun."

Yoongi stayed silent.

"You brought your wife here too," Haruki looked Kiku up and down, making sure that he used a moniker disconnected to him.

"In regards to your previous demands, we're suggesting some changes in the alliance." Yoongi kept a calm tone even though Kiku saw the tightened grip of his hands.

Haruki chuckled. "If you don't want her anymore, just kick her out." He waved his hand. "One of your servants can have her."

Yoongi narrowed his gaze but kept his neutral expression. "As you commented on our child before, we had an idea on how to strength the bond between clans."

"And how is that?" he asked.

"Since you require our food supplies which we give to you out of kindness, we have a compromise," Yoongi said. "In exchange for our food, any child born from my wife will take the Chiefs title of the Moon clan."

Haruki's brows furrowed as his chest heaved. His glare turned to Kiku. "You put him up to this, didn't you, you bitch?"

"It was a joint decision," Kiku said, maintaining her calm demeanour. She was used to his insults. She wouldn't let it hurt her again.

"I won't agree to this, it's stupid." Haruki winced.

"Very well," Yoongi said. "Then I suggest you get your defences ready."

"What?"

"Your father must've told you how the Onyx Clan works." Yoongi began to muse and there was something... oddly satisfying about the tone. "My wolves haven't been out for a feed in a while."

"You'd attack your ally?" Haruki asked.

"Attacking my scout and disrespecting the Chiefs wife constitutes that you are breaking every rule in the alliance," Yoongi said and Haruki stayed quiet. "Giving you an alternate compromise is a mercy. I suggest you consider it. My soldiers won't care if you're a spoiled Chief who can't carry a sword properly."

Haruki grimaced, chin quivering in frustration. He looked over at Kiku, as if trying to get ready for another insult but he knew it was too late. Kiku was no longer the target to point insults at. One wrong move and Haruki loses his head along with the Moon Clan. This way they can keep their lives. Haruki was stupid but he was still too scared to die. "Fine. I accept your terms."

Yoongi hummed. "Thank you." He stood up and held onto Kiku's hand, helping her to her feet.

"What would've Kaito said about you turning your back on family?" Haruki asked, cutting into her in a place that ached like a thousand knives.

Kiku paused in place, gripping onto Yoongi's hand like her life depended on it as her heart panged in pain. Haruki knew nothing about what Kaito was like. It took her every strength and hope in her body not to throw scalding tea in his face for even insinuating that Kiku would do something to disappoint Kaito. Because Kaito wasn't like that. Kaito understood and listened. Haruki was a fool. Kiku straightened her posture, turned and looked Haruki straight in the eye. "Kaito wouldn't have caused a food shortage in the clan."

Haruki scoffed, pursing his lips together.

"Kaito did his duty, as I am. From where I'm looking, I'm not the one who made father die from disappointment." Kiku felt like a dam burst inside her as she let the words flow but seeing the Haruki's sour and pouty expression made it all worth it.

Kiku was able to breathe easy when they returned to their tent for the night. She walked over to her vanity and her maid immediately began taking pins out of her hair. She watched from the mirror as Yoongi unlatched his sword sheathe of his waist and began to pour himself a drink. The dark furrow of his brows prominent. Kiku raised a hand and smiled at the maid. "A moment, please."

The maid bowed and did as she asked, stepping out of the tent to give them privacy. Kiku took out the rest of the pins so her hair was fully open and relaxed. A dull throb formed on her scalp. She stood and made her way to Yoongi as he leaned forward on the table.

"He can be a lot to tolerate," Kiku said.

Yoongi took in a deep breath to calm himself down. "The way he talks to you, it's like you're complete strangers. Enemies, even."

Kiku swallowed the small lump in her throat. It was always normal to her, seeing the way family treated the one they didn't want with the exception of Kaito. But Yoongi valued family with his life. She could only imagine the kind of shock thrumming through him. "You have a good family. Some don't." She touched his arm. "But sometimes you find a better one."

Yoongi turned his head, his once sharp eyes now softened and sad. "If I've ever made you feel—"

"Not once." Kiku knew it like the breath she took. Yoongi and his family had been nothing but comforting and kind. She reached and pressed her forehead against his. It was almost involuntary but feeling him lean into it was the only answer she needed to keep still.

Yoongi turned his body slowly, letting their chest flush against one another before he leaned and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. His warm hand cupped her cheek softly like she was precious. He pulled away only to press kisses on her cheek and jawline, taking her into an embrace. He buried his face into the crook of her neck where the scent of jasmines wafted in his nose.

Kiku could fall asleep in this embrace. Her body and mind and every bruise in her heart soothed from the loving touch. She traced her fingers across the strands of his hair as if lulling the both of them to dreams. It was difficult to admit it in the past few months with the new changes and confusion. But today for the first time, she could surely say it.

Kiku felt loved.

The meeting had left Kiku and Yoongi tired for the evening. They rested their heads, nestled close as they tried to sleep. Tried was an effort Kiku persisted on as the hours went by. It wasn't quite a terrible night of troubling thoughts but an eagerness. She opened her eyes to see Yoongi with his eyes calmly closed, his lips a little puckered.

Kiku took a moment to watch him, reaching out a little to touch his cheek. He stirred slightly at her touch, but his eyes remained closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic. She pulled away with a defeated sigh, not wanting to wake him up. So she turned around and tried to drift off to sleep again.

It was only a few minutes later then she felt Yoongi shift, moving closer until his chest was pressed right against her back. His arm laid over her body, embracing her from behind. Kiku felt a wave of warmth and comfort wash over her as Yoongi tightened his hold.

"Can't sleep?" Yoongi asked.

Kiku hummed. "A little. It's okay, go back to sleep."

"I can be awake," Yoongis voice rasped as his face buried into the crook of her neck again. He began pressing kissing down the length of her shoulder. "Do you want me to be awake?"

Kiku smiled to herself, swaying her hips against him. "A little."

Yoongi chuckled lightly, the vibrations made her quiver in delight. He made Kiku lay on her back, climbing on top of her and sneaking between her legs. "Are you sure?" He whispered.

Kiku nodded. "I'm sure." She smiled against his lips before pressing a kiss on his bottom lip.

Yoongi kissed down the length of her neck, unravelling his night clothes and pushing up Kikus soft dress. He entered her gently, her snug walls hugging his tip before he kept pushing.

Kiku gripped onto his clothing as the sensation made her tremble under him. She swayed her hips with his movements, encouraging him to move faster. The ache was slight but the tingle of pleasure sent her into a slight dizziness. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

Yoongi brushed his fingers across her hairline, full of affection as he moved deeper inside her. He pressed sweet kisses at the corner of her lips.

Kiku smiled feverishly as the pleasure sent heat through her body, radiating like steam and intoxication.

Yoongi made sure he was slow, not just to be careful but to draw out this intimacy for as long as he could. The feeling of embrace brought back every slight desire he had in the past few months to hold or touch her. "Feel good?"

Kiku nodded, letting out a slight whimper as he continued to move at that tantalizing pace. "Good." She traced her thumb across his cheek. Strands of his hair falling over his face, curtaining over hers. Her core became slick with arousal, creating light squelch sounds as he thrusted into her with a new desperation.

His release clouded him, flooding him with an unbearable warmth until he grind himself into her. He muffled his moan against her neck.

Kiku felt his lower belly press on her sensitive spot, making her clench around him, pushing him further into his climax.

Yoongi lifted himself up, foreheads layered with sweat as they pressed against each other.

Kiku took his lips into a kiss, surging him to thrust into a steady pattern that made her lose breath. She gripped onto the side of his neck as moans broke through any form of whisper.

Yoongi quickened his pace following the pattern of her moans and the rolling of his own release. Then the sweet burst into a ricochet of pleasure and heat.

Kiku smiled, breathless as she relished in the warmth filling her. As Yoongi kept moving, he snuck his head in between her legs, targeting her sensitive spot and pushing her to the edge. Kiku's brows furrowed, aching to reach her own climax as she was full of him. Her breathing turned to quickened whimpers as she squirmed under his touch. Her back arched, head thrown back giving Yoongi the chance to kiss her neck and jawline.

Her climax bloomed, the heat of it shaking her limbs and forcing her legs to shut around him. Yoongi kissed her forehead, still rubbing on that spot until she twitched against it.

Kiku whimpered, pushing his hand away. A small laugh left his lips fuelling her with more delight. It was the most wonderful feeling she had to be embraced like this so warmly and the bliss of pleasure melting her body until she was meshed with the bed itself.

"You feel sleepier now?" Yoongi watched her with his own half-lidded, blissed eyes.

Kiku smiled as her breathing turned slow and calm. "Mhm." She traced her fingers down his cheek. "I think I've officially become your wife."

"Oh?" Yoongi's brow raised. "You weren't before?"

Kiku chuckled, slapping his chest playfully. "I mean we don't have anything to hide anymore."

Yoongi caged her in with his arms, making her feel safe and secure. "No, we don't."

Kiku blinked slowly, her finger moved gently to his scar. "Like this?"

Yoongi's expression softened into a mix of ruminating vulnerability and an old sadness that had been repeatedly reminisced. He lay down next to her, shoulders pressed flush. "My father and I go on small trips every now and then. He used to do it with every child, just to. . .talk, connect with nature and spend time." He waved his hand. "It was strange for Chiefs to do it but he said it was because he never got to speak to his own father. So, he wanted to make sure we weren't. . .without one." He let out a long breath.

"He sounds like a good father," Kiku said.

"He was." Yoongi's dark eyes melted and glossed from emotion. "One day though, bandits were prowling in the place my father and I camped. They attacked us. I got this from one of the bandits." He pointed to the scar. "Before my father told me to run while he fended them off. I called my mother and some guards to help but we were too late."

Kiku shifted and rubbed his chest. "Is that why you train so much?"

Yoongi nodded. "I want to make sure Yeong and the girls know how to defend themselves or others should the need arise." He took a deep breath, playing with Kiku's hair. "But I had a good family. We took care of each other, just like we'll take care of you."

Kiku smiled, resting her chin on his chest. "I'll take care of you all too. I still owe you a massage."

"You gave me a pretty good one a minute ago." Yoongi smirked.

Kiku chuckled. "A proper massage."

Kiku and Yoongi returned to the main houses early in the morning as the soft gold of dawn painted the forest. Hwayoung had lunch prepared with the rest of the family to welcome them home. Fresh steamed fish with tofu, rice porridge and some fresh fruits newly picked from the farms. Kiku ate happily, her appetite had grown in the months she was with this family but it made her all the more energetic and vibrant along with her excitement from the past night's events.

Something the family noticed more than Kiku realised.

Yun, in particular, stared the two of them a little too closely with a smirk. "So how was the trip, brother?" She asked in a sing-song voice.

Yoongi's eyes flickered up as he paused mid-bite. "As most political talks go with a spoiled brat of a Chief. He gave into the deal quickly," he spoke in a slightly formal tone.

Kiku quietly sipped on the last drops of her tea before he gently poured her another cup. She gave him a shy smile.

"I haven't heard much about the prospects of the Chiefs of the Moon clan but the younger son is usually unprepared," Hwayoung said thankfully to distract from what Yun actually wanted to ask.

Yeong stammered just as he took a bite of his food, looking at Hwayoung with a pout. "What'd I do?"

Hwayoung raised her hand. "I mean, generally. Not you."

Yoongi let out a small chuckle under his breath. "She means you."

Yeong sighed, pointing at him with his chopsticks. "I've beaten you in sword training before, I'll do it again."

"Did you do anything else in the trip?" Yun asked, with a wide grin, leaning forward in excitement. "You were both alone for the night. And Kiku's been. . .glowing."

Kiku's cheeks burned, clearing her throat. "I—I don't—"

"You need to stop obsessing over your brother's marriage, sweetheart, it's getting strange." Hwayoung patted the back of Yun's hand.

"It's only because you don't let me get married." Yun leaned back on her chair, folding her arms over her chest.

"Mother's protecting the men of the clan," Nari said, raising a brow.

Yun slapped Nari's arm as Yeong snorted.

"See how they bully me?" Yun asked Kiku.

Kiku chuckled, biting down her bottom lip and glancing at Yoongi. Often when she had terrible encounters with Haruki, she would get scolded by her family and live with the suffocating feeling of frustration in her chest.

Today was the first time, Kiku could cling to the happy moments and forget about Haruki or any of this harsh words. Her family threw her to the Onyx clan like a bait at the end of a fishing line but in their hatred for her, Kiku found love for her own.

masterlist

#yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines #yoongi fanfiction #bts arranged marriage au #bts x oc #yoongi x oc

544 notes · View notes

redtsundere-writes · 19 days ago

Text

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 20: I Don't Get You

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 4884 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“My king!” You screamed desperately from the top of the tree.

The three-headed bear was rapidly climbing the tree. Its snout sprayed white foam every time it roared in hunger. Its claws tore at the trunk as it climbed, warning you of what it would do once it reached you. Your heart was stuck in your throat in the midst of panic of being a meter away from death. You backed away as far as you could to the last strong branch that could support your weight. Tears flooded your sight as you realized this was your end. You would die, you were sure.

“Jump,” your savior ordered you from the safety of the ground.

King Sukuna was waiting for you to obey him with his arms crossed. A smile appeared on your face before wiping away the tears as you realized everything would be okay. You gathered willpower and threw yourself into the abyss, falling with your arms outstretched, hoping that his strong arms would catch you, but something ended up breaking.

You let out a scream of pain that pierced the forest. You slammed against the ground, breaking your leg in two. You cried, in agony, seeing that the fibula pierced your skin, tearing the muscle completely. You begged the king to help you until you looked into his eyes. Those red eyes full of annoyance that forced you to shut up once and for all despite having a bone outside your body. You bit your lower lip in an attempt to control your terrible crying.

“Silly human.” Sukuna tilted his head in pity, pushing your leg with his foot in search of a reaction. “Why would I help you?”

Your heart fell among the dry leaves at those words. Your most primitive side was activated in the face of imminent danger. With all the adrenaline rushing over your body, you tried to get up again to flee from the beasts, but your right leg was so hurt that you only ended up falling to the ground again. Again and again, each attempt hurt more than the last. Sukuna passed by you, completely ignoring you. You crawled on the ground to follow him at all costs. Your arms could barely support your own dead weight. You screamed with all the desperation in your soul as you watched him walk away from you to return to the castle.

“But I…!” Sobbing, you barely crawled. “I hate you, you stupid fucking king!” You exclaimed before you felt the bear's hot breath on the back of your neck.

Your eyes snapped open, and you sat up in bed. You looked around, the bed with pink sheets, the wooden dresser, and the window with the bloody rose. You felt the length of your legs, making sure they were healthy and whole. You cupped your forehead as you calmed your labored breathing, one inhale and exhale at a time. It had all felt so real, but it was just a stupid nightmare. It was already the fifth time you had dreamed of King Sukuna betraying you in the last fortnight.

It had started the day the king had suddenly let go of you while you were dancing. You didn't understand how something as simple as that had shocked you so much, just as you didn't understand his sudden change of attitude towards you. He had defended you from your companions, saved you from a fearsome bear and given you all the luxuries he could give you, but he had purposely let you go in the middle of a ballroom dance. Something wasn't right, but whatever it was, you had to stop caring.

You didn't care about being liked by him anymore. You didn't care about seeing him anymore. You didn't care if he proposed to you anymore. You were still alive, surprisingly, and you were just doing what you had to do to keep going. You woke up early to practice archery, trained after breakfast, and studied the rest of the afternoon. You did enough to not be considered a hindrance, but the minimum to not stress yourself out for no reason.

The fresh air welcomed you before another day of archery practice. You breathed deeply, saving as much oxygen as possible in your lungs. You straightened your back to get into a T-position and pulled the string, tightening it against your fingertips. Your sight focused on the center of the target, as you had done so many times before, until you were tired. Your skills had improved quite a bit in the last few months, so much so that you could hit the center 9 out of 10 times you did it. You let go of the string and the pink-feathered arrow flew, landing perfectly in the center. A satisfied smile crept between your cheeks before you pulled out another arrow. A perfect shot.

“Good job.” You heard a voice behind you.

You didn't have to turn around to know it was the king, but you were surprised that he was next to you after 15 days without hearing a word from him. You gripped your bow tightly to find the composure to be in his presence. You looked up to see him admiring your shot.

“Good morning, my king.” You bowed, looking down again to avoid looking him in the eyes. “What is the reason for your presence at this time of the morning?”

“We're leaving.”

“We?” You asked in shock. “Where to?”

“To the Jogo Kingdom,” Sukuna explained.

“When are we leaving?” You were still processing what was happening.

“Now.”

Sukuna looked back as Kenjaku, Mahito and Mrs. Inoue left the castle being guided by Uraume. You approached the group, placing your bow across your body. Kenjaku and Uraume looked as fresh as a lettuce, while Mahito and Mrs. Inoue rubbed their eyes, trying to wake up the hard way.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted with a bow. Everyone responded to your greeting in unison. “Am I the only one who didn’t know about this trip?” You whispered, somewhat embarrassed.

“I was notified yesterday,” Kenjaku answered honestly.

“I found out last night,” Mahito muttered angrily while cracking his neck bones.

“I was just woken up,” Mrs. Inoue commented with a certain irritability in her tone of voice.

“Be thankful I woke you up. I’d rather wake up a rock than you,” Uraume complained, to which the Mrs. glared at them.

“In that case, I’ll go pack my suitcase,” you said, seeing that Mrs. Inoue had nothing on hand.

“That’s not necessary,” the king stopped you. “Everything you need is in the Jogo Kingdom’s castle. Just pack your bow.” Sukuna continued on his way to the castle exit. “Let’s go, I want to arrive by sunset,” Sukuna ordered.

“Yes, my king.” Everyone followed him obediently.

Uraume saw them off at the drawbridge, as he would be in charge of the castle while Sukuna was away from the kingdom. It looked like the servants were going to spend a good couple of months without the pressure of taking care of the king. Everyone got into the royal carriage to begin the journey. You and Mrs. Inoue were excited to see the inside of the vehicle. It had red satin-covered seats, black lace curtains, and small golden flowers decorating the window frames.

Sukuna, Kenjaku, and Mahito were sitting in front of you and Mrs. Inoue. As soon as the trip started, Mahito leaned on Kenjaku's shoulder to sleep a little longer. Kenjaku tried to shake him off, but his gray head fell back on his shoulder until the master got tired of fighting with him and let him take his nap. Sukuna watched you out of the corner of his eye as you looked out the window. Peace could be breathed in the town full of curses at 5 in the morning. The brick buildings, the endless streets and roofs burned by the sun. The wooden signs swayed in the wind, the supports creaked from how rusty they were. The big tires and the hooves of the black horses hit the stones. Nothing had changed since the last time you went out with the king.

"How exciting," Mrs. Inoue whispered to you excitedly. "This will be our first time leaving the kingdom."

"Ours? What are you talking about?" You asked her.

“Don’t play dumb,” Lady Inoue joked, but her expression returned to serious when you didn’t laugh. “Did you really leave the kingdom?” That question caught the attention of the three curses in the carriage, even waking up Mahito.

“I have left the kingdom. My mother used to take us to the Gojo Kingdom twice a year.” Everyone looked at you in disbelief upon hearing such a tremendous confession. You were lost because they had that expression on their faces.

“That is impossible, what about the Impossible Belt?” The lady asked in surprise.

In the world, there are places that are infested with curses, known as “impossible zones.” They are extremely difficult for humans to cross, so they can only be crossed with the help of a high-grade sorcerer in order to navigate such zones. One of them is the famous Impossible Belt, a long border of high mountains that separates the Sukuna Kingdom and the Gojo Kingdom. Many in the human commune have tried to escape the kingdom through there, but no one is known to have made it out alive.

“My mother, Yorozu, and I used to do it through the lower areas. It was a rather tedious two-day trip.” You explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

But Sukuna knew it wasn't normal because he was the one who created the Impossible Belt. 500 years ago, after he had colonized the kingdom he currently owns, he needed a way to make sure the humans didn't escape so that he and the village curses could keep their constant source of food. So he sent out all the curses possible so that no one from the Gojo kingdom would try to cross into his kingdom and no one from the commune would try to escape. For centuries, he was proud that the Impossible Belt was one of his best strategies and now, it turns out that three women crossed it like it was nothing twice a year for who knows how long.

Sukuna raised his eyebrow and gnashed his fangs. You explained, with a smile full of nostalgia, how they camped and ate berries to get through the belt as if it were a damn summer camp. You were making fun of him and you hadn't even realized it.

On the other hand, Kenjaku listened to you attentively. He was just as shocked as the king, but it only fueled his curiosity. By this point, he knew you weren’t an ordinary girl from a human commune without powers, but he didn’t know what exactly you were and where you came from. Every time you shared a personal story, he had more questions than answers.

You realized you had arrived at the bay as soon as the morning sea breeze tickled your nose. The carriage took you to the port on the shore that was west of the kingdom. The strong wooden planks creaked under your feet as you headed towards one of the king’s gigantic ships. You and Lady Inoue took a moment to admire it in all its colossal glory. It was so long that it seemed to be another castle. It had long, imposing black sails with bloody roses to announce the kingdom it represented. The ship’s hull had a giant window where the command cabin was. The body was made of different types of wood that could face even the wildest waves. It was a fierce titan ready to sail the seas.

They boarded the ship via a ramp. Dozens of curses were preparing for the journey back home. They all looked tough, strong and had unfriendly faces, true sailors who had seen everything in their lives. They loaded the ship with supplies, raised the sails and cleaned the floors to make the most of the daylight. They all bowed to the king as he walked around, making sure everyone was doing their job. Mrs. Inoue hugged you by the arm, surveying her surroundings from the panic of being surrounded by dozens of monsters.

“How exciting it is to return home!” Mahito exclaimed at your side. “I will take you to the beach, the hot springs and the ruins.”

“Sounds fun.” You smiled at him.

Every chance you got, you looked over the perimeter of the ship to see the sea. It was the first time you saw it, so it was normal for you to be curious. The waves lightly hit the sides of the ship, creating thousands of white bubbles that disappeared seconds later. The distant blue horizon looked dangerous but tempting.

They followed Sukuna into the ship's hull. Several curses cleaned and prepared the cannons on the sides to be ready in case of a surprise attack. In charge of the rudder and control system was a curse with a peculiar, almost cute appearance. It looked like a bright red squid. It had two large, round eyes, its beard had small black lines, and it wore white cloth covering its body and head.

“Ladies, may I introduce you to the captain in charge of this ship, Dagon,” Kenjaku, may I introduce you to the curse.

“Good morning, Captain.” Mrs. Inoue and you greeted, but he didn't answer them.

“Dagon doesn't know how to speak yet. He's still in the first stage of his development,” Mahito explained.

“He's a baby!” You commented tenderly.

“In simple terms, yes.” Kenjaku caressed his head. “He may seem docile, but it's the strongest curse among all sailors.” He clarified with a smile.

“In that case…” You bowed in front of him. “Take us safely, Captain Dagon”

“Yes…” Dagon answered, dragging out the vowel.

“His first word!” They exclaimed in unison with emotion.

“Attention crew!” Sukuna exclaimed. “We're leaving in 10 minutes!” The king ordered with his commanding voice, deeper and rougher than usual. All the curses answered “yes, my king” in unison. “Kenjaku, take them to my cabin.”

“Yes, my king.” The master obeyed instantly, taking the women with him.

Sukuna watched you leave, still upset by what you had said in the carriage. He was so angry that one of the veins on his forehead looked like it was about to explode. How could someone so docile, who had no idea that sorcery existed before entering the castle, survive the Impossible Belt several times? A true paradigm that he would have to find an answer to later.

“Someone is upset…” Mahito mocked the king.

“Upset…” Dagon imitated him, lengthening the last vowel of the word.

“Get to work.” Sukuna growled.

They returned to the surface and Kenjaku led them to a room at the back of the stern. You opened the door to reveal a large room with a giant bed, an elegant desk, and a small balcony overlooking the sea. Everything was nailed to the floor to secure everything in case of a wild storm that shook the ship completely. You left your bow and quiver next to a bookcase before stepping out onto the balcony to continue admiring the horizon that mesmerized you so much. Never in your life did you think you would see the sea, much less get on a ship as large as that. Deep down, you despised the king for the horrible actions he committed against your race, but you couldn't completely hate him when he gave you the opportunity to experience such unique things like that.

"It is estimated that we will arrive at the Jogo Kingdom in the afternoon, I recommend that you rest," Kenjaku told them before closing the door to return to the king.

"How elegant!" Mrs. Inoue said before sitting on the bed, making herself comfortable immediately.

You stepped out onto the balcony to continue admiring the horizon. Never in your life did you think you would see the sea, much less get on a ship as big as that one. Deep down, you despised the king for the horrible actions he committed against your kind, but you couldn't hate him completely when he gave you the opportunity to experience such unique things like that.

Even though they were living an experience worthy of a royal family, Mrs. Inoue wondered what the Jogo kingdom was like. Would it be the same as the Sukuna kingdom? Would it be cold or warm? Would there also be humans there? Also, what was the true purpose of the trip? A war, business, vacation...? A fourth option revealed itself before her eyes.

"Little girl!" She called you excitedly. "I think I know why the king hasn't asked you to marry him yet." She ran towards you. You looked at her with a curious glint in your eyes. "This is a romantic trip! He even waited to ask for your hand in a special place."

"He has a lot of faith in her." You sighed, looking back at the sea, at the disinterest.

“It's not entirely impossible!”

“I'm not saying it is,” you corrected. “But we're talking about the king here.”

There was a point where you came to consider Sukuna as someone romantic. The way he took you as his own, looked carefully at each of your features with others and protected you from others, made you feel as if you were worthy of that attention, special. But ever since he started treating you coldly, your point of view has changed.

“You have so little faith in him?” Mrs. Inoue asked, disappointed.

“I just don’t want to get any stupid ideas,” you said in a sigh. “I’ll go rest, taking advantage of the fact that I can sleep late.”

“Me too.” Your friend followed you, disappointed.

You lay down on the big bed and the lady imitated you. You closed your eyes to concentrate on the gentle swaying of the waves, the flying seagulls and the footsteps of the busy curses on the roof. You kept thinking about what Mrs. Inoue had said, maybe this time you could dream of a marriage proposal instead of a terrible betrayal.

You woke up to Mrs. Inoue’s snoring. Despite being an adorable old lady, she snored like a locomotive. You sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed your eyes, and remembered that you were no longer in the castle. The ship moved gently as it moved towards its safe destination. You jumped out of bed to explore the surroundings.

You left the cabin to venture around the ship. Everyone seemed too busy to pay attention to you. The sun was at its highest point so you figured it must be midday, you had slept almost 7 hours.

You approached the edge to admire the sea from the side of the ship. The white foam contrasted with the blue of the tide. There was nothing else on the horizon but water and more water. A feeling of uncertainty grew in your stomach as you saw no land nearby. It seemed like sailing was not for her. Your hair fluttered against the strong wind that crashed against the giant sails. You admired the view and then told Wasuke everything you had seen. In the distance, you could see a dark shadow. You placed your hands on your forehead and closed your eyes in an attempt to decipher what was beyond the immense body of water.

"It's No Man's Island," the king answered at your side.

You didn't know when he had arrived at your side, but you weren't surprised anymore. It was impressive how someone so big could be so stealthy. Sukuna noticed that your back tensed, and you avoided his gaze again, just like in the morning. This felt like déjà vu. He rested his lower arms on the edge to lean his body on it, lowering his torso to be at the same height as you.

I explain that No Man's Island was an island that was the reason why the Nanami and Jogo kingdoms almost started a war 100 years ago. Being in the middle of the two lands, both kingdoms constantly competed to prove who could conquer it first. There were several naval battles, death threats and a lot of stress on both sides. It wasn't until both kings realized that the Island was really useless. The land is mostly sand, the climate is dry, the vegetation is sparse and lacks fauna. Both kingdoms decided not to waste any more resources and time on it.

“Now it's used as a vacation land or a kind of stop in case of an emergency.” Sukuna finished his speech.

“Wow…” You blurted out, not knowing what else to say.

It had been so long since you had last been together, that you were starting to feel like the first time you met him. Your hands were sweaty, your heart was racing with nerves, and you avoided his gaze at all costs. It was as if all the progress you had made in the last year had disappeared after a month.

Sukuna looked at you from the corner of his eye. It was more than obvious that you were nervous. Just like you used to be before, when it was clear who was the dominant king and who was the submissive servant. He was happy to return to that old dynamic where he was in control of the situation, but not satisfied.

“Why are you taking me to the Jogo kingdom?” You asked, still avoiding looking at his face.

“Five years ago I started my plan to colonize the Jogo kingdom, and just a year ago I killed the king.”

You remembered that week when the king disappeared from the castle. He had returned all bloody and tired, it was the day he stained your uniform with the blood of your coworkers. The memory of him wiping your face, taking care not to cut you by accident, rubbing his fingers against your cheeks flushed by the steam. You had to get that Sukuna out of your head. That Sukuna no longer exists, rather, he never existed in the first place. You remembered that moment as an act of love on his part, while he surely remembered it with disgust, a king bathing with a lapdog.

“I only needed to get rid of the resistance groups that were loyal to King Jogo to complete the colonization. That's where Mahito and the other commanders came in.” The king explained. “Since I have been informed that those groups have died out completely, now I only have to proclaim my position as the new king and name the land as mine.”

It was impressive how the king talked about conquering an entire nation as if he was recounting what he did on a day off. His tone was calm, and he didn't try to boast about his achievements. It was scary how calm he was about the situation. For him, it had been a piece of cake.

"That doesn't answer my initial question," you noted with a frown. "Why did he bring me?"

"To save me a trip. After we finish colonizing, we'll go to the Zen'in ball," he explained.

"I see..." You whispered, nodding your head.

That made sense. From the Sukuna Kingdom, there were two ways to get to the Zen'in Kingdom. The first was the route they were taking: Crossing the sea to the Jogo Kingdom and from there traveling through land to the Zen'in Kingdom. It was faster and more efficient for curses, since there are no obstacles in the way. The second route was much more complicated. That meant going east overland, crossing the Impossible Belt, traveling outside the Gojo Kingdom's borders, passing through the Kamo Kingdom, and then reaching the Zen'in Kingdom. The first route could be done in 3 days, the second in 6. Plus, if you came with him right away, it meant he wouldn't have to send another ship for two months to make the same trip just for you.

Silence ruled between you two. You stared out at the sea for a long time while the others worked in the background. You knew that Lady Inoue was wrong. This would just be another one of the king's trips to continue his plan to conquer the world. You fiddled with your fingers on the edge, deciding whether to mention the marriage he had promised. Sukuna sighed and was about to walk away until you finally decided to be direct.

"Why hasn't he asked me to marry him? He told me he would promise to marry me as soon as I killed someone of my race, and I did. Should I have done something else?" You asked with a small hint of despair for answers, looking him straight in your eyes this time.

“I haven't because more important matters have come up that I must prioritize,” he answered, now being the one to avoid your gaze.

They say that behind every truth, there is a drop of a lie. Even though in his mind he was telling the truth, his heart was lying. He knew perfectly well why he hadn't asked you to marry him, and that he should do it at some point if he wanted to have his heir before continuing with his plans. But I have preferred seppuku than telling you something as embarrassing as: “You make me nervous every time you look in my direction.”

You repeated that answer in your mind so that it would be clear to you. You weren't one of his priorities. Deep down, you already had it clear after he ignored you for a whole month, but you preferred to play at being his favorite as if you mattered to him. He didn't and probably never did. He only wanted to use you to give him an heir and nothing more. It was sad that you were still a lapdog in his eyes, like when you were his servant. Sukuna was going to back out of the conversation, but you stopped him again, holding him by the wide sleeve of his kimono.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked.

“If you had done something wrong, I would have already cut your throat,” he answered before breaking free from your grip.

You grabbed onto the edge to keep from falling to the ground. The glass under your feet began to crack from the weight. You knew you had to be careful, one wrong step, and you would collapse into the abyss. The luxuries, the studies, the archery… It had all been an illusion of safety that was never there. It never protected you, you just haven't done enough to kill yourself.

Sukuna returned to the cabin and stood next to Dagon to see the road in front of them. There were 6 hours left to reach the Jogo kingdom, so they were making good time, they would arrive just at sunset. He crossed his arms as he thought about the conversation he had just had with you. He was pleased, but not satisfied. He had regained control over himself, but it was harder for him to do so now than before. If he continued like this, he would propose to you at the Zen'in ball, as he had planned since the first proposal failed miserably.

It was mealtime, so several curses were handing out the food that the chef had prepared on board. One of them handed the king and the commander a plate with human parts seasoned with various spices that came from the Jogo kingdom.

Sukuna took a finger and put it in his mouth, but when he looked at it closely he realized something. It was a woman's finger. It was thin and long, just like yours. Those fingers that pampered him with caresses and fleeting touches. That skin that gave off warmth and affection.

He gulped as he realized that everything on the plate had your characteristics. Your ears, your eyes, your intestines… He knew you were upstairs, safe and sound, eating some sandwich that Uraume had prepared for you in advance, but the idea that it was on the plate had a strong resemblance to you, took away his appetite.

Cutting your throat, watching you bleed on the floor until the shine in your eyes disappeared and your inert body being carried by Uraume to the kitchen like a pig. That mental image did not please him at all. He loved eating human flesh, all humans only deserved to serve him as food or entertainment. But to try a bite of you. He couldn't…

An inexplicable feeling of disgust rose up his throat, but he managed to stop it by moving the plate away from his sight. He covered his mouth and closed his eyes until it passed. It was the first time this had happened to him. It must be seasickness, that must be it.

Dagon looked at the king's plate with interest, as the king hadn't taken a bite yet. Sukuna quickly noticed his interest and handed it to him.

"I'm not hungry," he said, feigning indifference.

Masterlist.

taglist:

Tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honored-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @neeke-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying @catobsessedlady @danniwerner

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters!)

87 notes · View notes

belowheavenrpg · 5 months ago

Text

Good morning, students!

Welcome to your first day at Paradiso Boarding School! I'm Ms. Adler, here to make sure all of you new arrivals can have a smooth transition into what will become your new home for - hopefully! - the next 8 years of your life.

As you are no doubt aware, Paradiso is the premier institution of middle and high level education in the Kingdom of Heaven. You, dear students, are privileged among the privileged. Here you will learn all you need in order to perform your role during adulthood.

Now, most of you were probably homeschooled all your life, and the idea of getting out from under your parents' wings seems very scary! But rest assured - it's an important part in the development of any elf. Your life away from home and your contact with other students and the faculty will teach you self-discipline and how to live harmoniously in society.

In addition to learning about history and the natural sciences, you will be taught a variety of subjects like art and music, as well as combat-oriented skills. Among these is the manipulation of our world's most important resource: Aether.

Aether is the very life force of the world. As descendants of the divine, we elves are attuned to it, and thus are able to manipulate it with training. Aether lingers in the air but cannot be propagated through it, so each student will be tasked with developing their own Aether Focus in order to better make use of it. Your focus is personal and speaks a lot about you as a person - so choose your design carefully.

You have certainly taken notice of the armband on your uniforms. These are personalized and must be worn at all times. The color on the armband identifies your grade, with the ones you all have right now - red - representing grade 1. Further grades will move along the spectrum of visible light - orange for grade 2, yellow for grade 3, and so on. Grade 8, your final year here, is represented by white.

As a safety measure, you must wear your uniforms both inside and outside the school grounds. While you have access to the entire colony, your uniforms will serve as a means of identifying you as students of Paradiso even in other Sectors, and the barcode inside the armband will help others identify you should there be any issue.

That is all for now! Please head back to your dorms and familiarize yourselves with your new dorm-mates. Good relations to those around you are paramount to a healthy life. Classes start later today, so please refer to your personal schedules and don't be late! If you have any further questions, do not hesitate to consult one of the many BN-UU7 units roaming the school grounds. They exist to serve.

We hope this is the start of a fruitful period in your lives. I'll see you all soon. Have a nice day!

#game dev #indie dev #worldbuilding

102 notes · View notes

cupcakeslushie · 1 month ago

Note

Hi there, I love your stuff, I hope you don't mind but I wanted to do an ask the artist

Where are you from?

What's your favorite color?

How long have you been creating art for?

What drives you to make art?

What is your favorite piece of artwork of yours?

What is your favorite fan artwork that was done for you?

What character of yours is your favorite?

If you could go to any fictional world which one would it be?

Do you consider what will please your audience or do you just do your own thing?

What made you want to start your AU?

1. American! Southern girl, specifically.

2. You’d think it would be green with how it’s been my hair color for three years, and I’ve made it my signature on here, but it’s actually yellow! Like the really saturated, sunny kind! 💛

3. Oh lord. Um, since like 1st or 2nd grade.

4. I never really thought about it. I think I’m just a visual person. So if I have an idea, I need to get it on paper to really see it. I’m the same with movies, especially adaptations. I could never picture characters by reading them in books very well, but seeing them in movies I’m like, “oh okay, now I see what they were going for!” It’s also just fun. It’s my own story-telling method.

5. Fav piece of anything I’ve ever made would be one of my stained glass pieces, like my lemon one, that took me three weeks, and was one of my first bigger pieces. Digitally it would probably be my most recent dtiys cause I just don’t like looking at my older stuff.

6. Noooo!! I have so many, especially recently, that I’ve been gifted! I can’t choose just one!!! Seriously! I love everything I’ve ever been sent! I will say, I’ve been gifted a few fan fictions by now, that have had me like, mind blown—just because writing is such a thing that I’ve always admired and never really been able to fully grasp. If you’ve sent me art, it’s more than likely been my phone or iPad wallpaper, and if you’ve sent me fanfiction, I’ve probably read it no less than five times, and will continue to go back to it.

7. I mean, it’s Donnie. It’s pretty clearly Donnie. I try and be fair and love all the boys equally, but I’m not gonna lie, you all know it. It’s obvious. Just know, I’ll never ignore the others story wise 😜. But Donnie gets the most of my attention and my evil creative plots 😈.

8. Any world ever? Probably Fullmetal Alchemist—if I could actually be an alchemist. I mean, like come on—how cool is that? And like, yeah, you’ve got Father and the homucuous running around, but for the most part, the world is pretty chill and has the coolest rules.

9. The main chunks of my stories are really just what I want to see, but sometimes I can hear a suggestion and think about changing the trajectory of things. I’m always open to ideas, especially if I’m stumped on how it should go. I even change my opinions on the things I’ve established myself, I’m very open to changing a story if a better idea comes to me. I don’t think I’ve ever been like, scared to tell something because I think someone wouldn’t like it. If they don’t, that’s fine, not everything is for everyone, and some things only click with a few people. If I really want to tell a story, then I’m going to tell it.

10. It’s really so funny, because at the time, I was working on this short, post-movie aftermath comic about Leo learning to find a healthy middle ground between being the silly guy and a serious leader. But I was having trouble with the next part, so I decided to watch Arcane and doodle. I posted that little concept sheet, and it feels like…within days my inbox was full with people wanting to know more, and the more I answered, the more I was like, wait I wanna actually explore this. Tbh pretty much all my AUs have started this way. With just an idea jotted down, and then turning into something I couldn’t stop developing.

#rottmnt #ask slushie #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #my art #rottmnt separated au #slushie rambles

81 notes · View notes

burst-of-iridescent · 10 months ago

Note

You constantly portray Katara (in your posts and in your "dissertation") like some damsel in distress who is in a codependent relationship and does not defend her opinion in front of her partner, to the point that she allows him to mistreat her children. But the basis of her character is that she will never tolerate any shit from anyone. She always defends her opinion, and she does not oppose Aang precisely because their values are basically the same with Aang. You cannot agree with this, because then you would either have to admit that Aang is not the terrible person you paint him, or that Katara is not the perfect girl you want her to be. That is why you are forced to humiliate her and completely rewrite her character, just not to admit that she is in an equal relationship with Aang and their values coincide.

In addition, such a "katara" makes even less sense for zutara, because if her character has a tendency to codependence on her partner and a willingness to tolerate shit from him, then their relationship with Zuko would not be healthy, since Zuko is prone to self-pity, selfishness and outbursts of anger even after his redemption and he does not show even a tenth of the maturity that Aang has by the end of the show (and even if you do not agree with this, I hope you understand that if there is a tendency to codependent relationships in a person's character, then this tendency is realized in any relationship, regardless of the partner. And any such relationship will be unhealthy).

well i lost braincells reading this so i expect reparations for that, but i'm in a nice, salty mood today so... sure anon, i'll bite.

She always defends her opinion, and she does not oppose Aang precisely because their values are basically the same with Aang.

you must really dislike katara, because saying that the only reason she never challenged aang is because she never disagreed with him, rather than that her idealization of him blinded her to his flaws is... so much worse. are you telling me she thought it was right for him to recklessly burn her? or yell at her in the desert and abandon her to take care of sokka and toph alone? or kiss her without her consent? or give their airbending child preferential treatment over their other two children?

because katara doesn't hold aang to account for any of the things on that (non-exhaustive) list, and if your explanation for that is that she agreed with him, then we both know who here is really bastardizing katara's character.

do katara and aang share certain core values? sure. they're both kind, compassionate and hopeful people. but saying that katara's morals are "basically the same" as aang's is objectively untrue when they clash in both the southern raiders and sozin's comet over their personal moral codes on the sanctity of life and whether taking one can ever be justified.

neither of these conflicts are ever truly resolved, even by the end of the show. katara and aang never come to any sort of understanding or middle ground, or even raise the subject ever again, despite it being clear that they don't share the same perspective. katara even explicitly rejects aang's creed of blanket forgiveness by stating that she did not forgive yon rha and never will. i don't know about you, but that feels like a pretty major difference of opinion to me.

additionally, the fact that these are the only two times in the entire show that katara actually pushes back against aang's beliefs and decisions - and stands firm on it - proves my point, because she's only able to do so when she has absolutely no other choice. it's only the trauma of her mother's murder and the literal fate of the entire world that forces katara to challenge aang rather than excuse and coddle him. and that is unhealthy both for aang and katara, because an equal partner should be able to call you out on your flaws and mistakes without first having to be backed into a corner to do it.

That is why you are forced to humiliate her and completely rewrite her character, just not to admit that she is in an equal relationship with Aang and their values coincide.

i really adore this recent trend in atla fandom of insisting that it's zutara shippers who are responsible for adultifying katara or humiliating katara or any and all problems that exist within katara's narrative as if we personally wrote the show instead of just... pointing out what already exists in canon.

i'm not the one who robbed katara of all agency in her relationship, or refused to give her arc equal narrative space with aang's, or turned her into a subservient trophy wife with no legacy or voice. you can go take that up with the creators.

believe me anon, i wish i could manipulate canon for my nasty zutara agenda, but alas you can't have everything in life.

Zuko is prone to self-pity, selfishness and outbursts of anger even after his redemption and he does not show even a tenth of the maturity that Aang has by the end of the show

zuko didn't throw a hissy fit because the girl he liked didn't like him back, pressure her for an answer, force a kiss on her, or be preachy and judgemental towards her during one of the most difficult times of her life - but hey, whatever floats your boat.

(thank you for providing no evidence, by the way. saved me a ton of time reading more batshit insane misinterpretations of canon, or lies, or both.)

In addition, such a "katara" makes even less sense for zutara, because if her character has a tendency to codependence on her partner and a willingness to tolerate shit from him, then their relationship with Zuko would not be healthy I hope you understand that if there is a tendency to codependent relationships in a person's character, then this tendency is realized in any relationship, regardless of the partner.

i'm genuinely bamboozled as to why you seem to think that i called katara codependent, because i didn't. i don't think katara and aang are codependent, and i have never once said that. but i understand that sending anonymous, bad-faith arguments is a difficult, underappreciated job, so let's take the hypothetical and assume i did to help you out.

fictional characters are not real people, and so it is possible for them to have different dynamics with different characters. that's why i can ship taang or zutara or mailee but not kat.aang or mai.ko. because each of these relationships are written to fulfil different narrative purposes, the characters involved are not doomed to repeat the same patterns of behaviour in each relationship as real people might be - and the difference between the zutara and kat.aang interactions in canon proves it.

#zutara #anti kataang

199 notes · View notes

miguelhugger2099 · 9 months ago

Text

Day One

It's February! I'll try to make a small drabble each day until the 14th so please enjoy! (─‿‿─)♡ Miguel x Reader, Fluffy, Drabble

Miguel was the kind of guy people strayed from or that he made them stray from him. Not on purpose of course. He doesn’t mean to come off stone cold and mean when someone speaks to him, he’s just a little awkward. He’s not stupid either. He knows he takes care of himself, going to the gym, shaving, doing skincare and taking really good care of his hair to appear attractive and healthy. It’s his personality that…needs work. Or at least that’s what others tell him. Miguel would often be stopped in the middle of shopping, a pretty lady asking him questions out of the blue, usually starting off with queries about what he’s buying. He’d respond as politely as possible but when the questions became more invasive and she became more touchy, now that’s when the problem starts. His awkward social skills harden into a more guarded persona. His grunts and deep scowl would form and make the women squeak off with a quick apology and run away. Miguel felt bad for scaring them but he just wasn’t used to the idea of people wanting him. So how is it that you seemed so easy to be with? He gazes next to you, in your own world reading your book. You and Miguel had gone to the park for a small date since it was a beautiful sunny day. Your hair framed your face perfectly, the sun giving you an angelic glow while you had a soft pout on your lips as you flipped through the pages. Miguel liked it like this: you two together while doing different things at the same time. In this case, you were reading and Miguel was admiring you.

He feels himself blush at his thoughts. You were just so pretty. Miguel never thought someone like you could ever like someone like him. You were–well you were just too cute. It was typical how you two met. You were leaving your shift at a family owned cafe in the middle of the day. He was just coming in for a quick tour around the town to stretch his legs when he bumped into you on the way inside. He made you yelp and drop your lunch straight onto the ground. You groaned in frustration at yourself and for the lost food when you looked up at him. He did the same, tsking at how blind he was and was going to apologize when he was taken aback how pretty you were. It was a strange feeling to have his heart speed up at the sight of someone. You spoke up, apologizing for not seeing him and scanning his outfit to see if you dropped anything on him. Miguel simply gawks at you and you worry if you might’ve had some leftover crumbs on your face. You blush and try to hide yourself out of embarrassment but Miguel quickly speaks up again, blurting his own apology and wanting to see your eyes again. He noticed you holding onto your apron and immediately connected the dots that you worked here.

He went by the next day. He nervously sat at a table by the wall and placed his laptop on top of the table to make it appear like he was working. What was he doing? Is he stupid? There’s no way this would work. You came into the place to start your shift, a smile on your face as you greeted the coworkers you were close with. Miguel feels his face burn up and he tries hiding behind his laptop which is amusing because of his large shoulders. You glanced at him throughout the day wondering if that man had always come in. You walked over to his table with a notepad in hand. “Did someone take your order yet?” You smiled down at him. Miguel stiffens in his chair and he peeks up at you. He hopes to god he isn’t blushing hard enough for you to see it on his cheeks. “No…no. I, uh, haven’t decided.” He grumbles. His eyebrows knit down and his lips frown–a sign he’s saving himself from the social awkwardness that he is. You don’t take it to heart, finding it endearing the way he appeared nervous. You noticed. “Well, if you’re down for a recommendation, I usually like the white mocha.” You tap your pen on the side of your notepad. Miguel doesn’t look up into your eyes.

“That’s…Okay. Okay, I’ll have that.” Even though he’s not really a fan of white mocha. “Can I have a name?” you ask, clicking your pen. “Miguel.” He taps slowly on his keyboard and you smile, writing it down.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. He thinks it was all you that had helped him make it this far. First it was one date, then a second, soon enough he bashfully asked you if you wanted him to be yours. And now you two were here, alone together at the park. He flips through the pages of his own book mindlessly. You helped him get into reading and the two of you have little meetings about the books you’re reading. He bites his bottom lip, ripping the loose skin off in a nervous habit. He found it insane how he found you, how easily you came into his life when everyone around him, including himself, had believed he’d probably be alone for the rest of his life. He glances over at you again and blushing again. How lucky is he to call you his? How is he so lucky for him to be yours? He shakes himself back to reality. He can’t believe how much he has changed and it’s all because of you. He became worried. Is this the right choice? The two of you were so young, what if this became marriage? Would he want that? Of course he does but do you want that? He hoped you did. Oh, shock, if you didn’t he’d be heartbroken. He doesn’t think there would ever be another person for him other than you. His mind spirals, his heart beating rapidly.

“Miggy.” You call out to him and he feels his heart stop for a minute. He feels goosebumps on his skin as he turns to face you. There you are with your perfect smile, your perfect face–oh, you get cuter every time he looks at you– were you always this ethereal? You tilt your head towards him with a tiny grin. “You’re very pretty,” You say softly. “The sunlight makes you extra pretty.” You giggle. Miguel’s brain goes into overdrive–he’s shutting down. How does he respond? How can he respond? What does someone even say to that? He gulps down a dry lump in his throat and hesitates to speak; he wasn’t sure how this relationship thing was supposed to go. “You’re…pretty…too.” He chokes out. Did he sound stupid? You burst out laughing and cover your mouth with your hand. Oh,he definitely sounded stupid. He burns even more, his cheeks and tips of his ears becoming a dark crimson. In between laughs, you look at him adoringly. “Oh, I love you.” He looks completely embarrassed, sighing deeply and reaching out to grip your hand tightly in his. He squeezes it three times. I love you.

A/N: oh to be loved ♡( ◡‿◡ )

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099

283 notes · View notes

writing-fanics · 10 months ago

Text

our future

Kaneki Ken x Fueguchi!Reader

[warning: pregnancy: est relationship: mentions of parents death (past): implied sexual intercourse (past)

beginning / middle / end / epilogue

Her foot tapped against the bathroom floor, as she sat impatiently on the toilet. Time seemed to move slowly as she waited for the test results. Her stomach turning with uncertainty as she bit her lower lip nervously.

She never took into account what could possibly happen after, they consummated their feelings for each other. After they escaped the ambush. She didn’t expect to end up with symptoms so fast.

Her heart stopped and the pregnancy test fell onto the ground. She stared off into space for what felt like hours but was only mere seconds. Before shaking her head, and looking down at the pregnancy test on the floor.

‘Positive +’

Tears brimmed her eyes as she hugged her knees to her chest. Her suspicions confirmed. She was pregnant with Kaneki’s child. She was scared and didn’t know if the child would be born healthy. If her body would mistake it for food. Kaneki was half-ghoul, he was once a human then turned into a ghoul.

She always wanted to be a mother that dream, coming from her passion of wanting to be a teacher. She loved kids their curious minds and how adorable they were, and how smart they could be. She wanted, to help shape the future. To teach the future kids of Japan.

She sniffled as she reached towards the pregnancy test, “How am I going to tell him?” she whispered, looking at the positive pregnancy test. Biting her lip nervously; placing her hand on her stomach she leaned back against the wall.

Hinami was only thirteen when their parents died and [Y/n] sixteen. They still needed their mother and father but the CCG made sure that never happened.

She banged her fist against the wall, as tears welled up in her eyes again. “Mom…Dad.. I wish you were still here.” she cried, hugging her knees as she cried on the bathroom floor.

There was a knock at the door, She quickly, shoved the pregnancy tests into her shirt. She wiped away her tears with her sleeve, as Kaneki entered the bathroom closing the door behind him.

“You okay?” He asked, sitting down on the bathroom floor next to her. She sniffled a little bit, “Yeah, just missing my parents that’s all.” She said, as her stomach turned she was lying to her own boyfriend. Father of their child.

She breathed in and opened her mouth, “I’m pregnant.” She hugged her knees to her chest, waiting for a response from Kaneki. The air was thick and the silence was deafening, “I dont know if it will be born healthy.” She said, looking down at the ground.

“When…When will it be born?” He asked, and she turned to look at him. “The child?” He added, she could’ve sworn she saw a few tears running down his cheek. “In December” She says, looking away from him for a moment.

“I’m happy.” He said, looking at the ground. “Really?” She asked, lifting up her head as her heart swelled with joy. “Yes really.” He said, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. He placed his head over hers and she smiled in response.

It was then the couple left a permanent mark on each other, one that wouldn’t fade away even long after they’re gone. A bite mark. Proof that they’re one. He loved her and he wanted to protect her no matter what. She loved him and wanted the same, giving him her mother’s engagement as a sign of her love for him.

Their love knew no bounds. She hoped they had a bright future ahead, and wanted this child in her womb to live. She was going to do everything in her power to make sure that happens. She leaned her forehead against Kaneki’s and smiled warmly, intertwining her fingers with his.

#kaneki ken x reader #kaneki ken x you #kaneki ken x y/n #kaneki ken fanfiction #tokyo ghoul #Tokyo ghoul x reader #Tokyo ghoul x you #tokyo ghoul x y/n #ken kaneki x reader #ken kaneki #Ken kaneki x you #kaneki x reader #x reader #fanfic #angst #fluff #romance #Tokyo ghoul fanfiction

231 notes · View notes

a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 4 months ago

Text

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 40

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 5.3K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

The nightmare that plagued you every night was just one of many torments your mind conjured up to punish you. Despite the comforting presence of Azriel's arms wrapped tightly around you, his protection wasn’t enough to ward off the relentless attacks from your own subconscious. Each time you woke up drenched in sweat, eyes wide and screaming, Azriel would do his best to hold onto you, to ground you in reality and remind you of who and where you were. But even as he tried to anchor you, your mind would still be lost in the grips of the dream, where Azriel was not himself but a monster wearing his skin. As much as he worried about you, you worried right back for him. Though your own eyes were now perpetually bruised and blue-tinged, Azriel's lack of rest was also beginning to take its toll on him. You would often find him falling asleep at his desk, struggling to stay focused during conversations, or napping on the couch in the Town House in the middle of the day, desperate for some respite. But he never complained, never mentioned being tired, no matter how much you pressed him to admit it.

No one spoke of what happened that night. Not even Azriel. There were no more discussions about your newfound bloodline and its potential consequences, no whispered conversations about how it might impact your work as a member of the court. It seemed like business as usual for everyone else, but deep down, you couldn't help but wonder if there were secret meetings happening without your knowledge. Perhaps they were trying to protect you from any further trauma or pain. You held your breath every time Azriel returned home from meeting with Rhys, hoping for any sign or clue, but all he ever did was smile and kiss you before going about his day as if nothing had changed. And so you tried to do the same - put on a brave face, return the smiles and kind gestures, maintain a sense of normalcy like everyone else seemed to be doing. But in moments when no one was looking, whether it was in the shower or alone in the Town House or hidden away in a quiet alley of Velaris, you would break down into sobs that wracked your body and left your head throbbing with pain. After all the time and effort the members of the Night Court had put into helping you heal and get better, you couldn't bear to burden them with your struggles again. Especially since there didn't seem to be any immediate threat looming over you.

Philip hadn't attempted to contact you again, and perhaps his only intention was to throw another jab at you and hope to destabilize you or the court. And unfortunately, it worked - on the inside, at least.

A niggling feeling persisted in the back of your mind, a conversation that took place just a few months ago. You were standing outside the door of the House of Wind in Velaris, straining to hear what the three males inside were saying before Rhys escorted you to the city gates. It was something that had slipped from your memory until that night when Philip approached you. Azriel had posed the question, his voice laced with doubt, "Do you think he could be her father?" And Rhysand's response had been filled with certainty, “I would recognize that voice anywhere.” At the time, it hadn't struck you as important, but now as questions and unexpected answers arise, you realize the gravity of that moment and how it has come full circle. As you stood once again in Velaris, a place you never thought you'd return to after you first left, everything falls into place like puzzle pieces finally connecting. —

You rap your knuckles on the heavy oak door of Azriel’s study, the aged wood creaking slightly in response. The door is already cracked open, and you can hear the sound of pages being turned from within. “Come in,” his deep voice calls out. You push the door open, the hinges squeaking slightly as you enter the room. As your eyes adjust to the dim light, they immediately lock onto Azriel's beautiful hazel gaze. It shines like a beacon in the shadows, drawing you towards him. He smiles at you, and your heart flutters in your chest. “Hi,” he greets you softly.

You walk towards him, your steps hesitant and slow, each one feeling like a weight dragging you down. You return his smile with a small one of your own. “Hey.”

Azriel leans back in his chair, his wings unfolding gracefully behind him as he runs his hand through his already tousled hair. “What’s up?” he asks.

You make your way over to his desk, leaning against it with your hips as you wrap your arms around yourself. Azriel's gaze never leaves yours, that smile still firmly planted on his lips. Your hands rub up and down your arms instinctively, as if trying to ward off the cold even though you know the only chill is inside you. You look down at him, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. He notices your discomfort and furrows his brow slightly. “Everything okay?” he asks, leaning forward slightly.

You nod, glancing away from him briefly before shrugging lightly. Everything isn’t okay, or it may not be after you ask this question.

At your shrug, Azriel tilts his head curiously. “What’s up?”

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you let your hands fall to your sides and brace yourself on the desk as you focus on the wall behind him. One leg bounces lightly, tapping against the wooden floor. “I wanted to ask you about something,” you start, your teeth finding a loose piece of skin on your lip and latching onto it, chewing lightly.

“Yeah?” Azriel responds, still maintaining a casual tone but there is a hint of trepidation in his voice.

You already begin talking yourself out of the conversation. “I may be remembering this wrong,” you shake your head slightly as if trying to dislodge the memory, “But back when I first came here-"

Azriel leans forward even more, resting his forearms on his thighs as he listens intently.

"When I was leaving, I overheard the end of a conversation you were having with Rhys and Cassian." Azriel's eyes harden slightly, and you can't tell if he's searching through his own memories or trying to come up with a plan to respond to where you're leading.

"It was after that night that Rhys had to go into my mind to pull me out of that dream, and he saw my mother with a male." Azriel nods in understanding.

"He said he recognized that male's voice," the small piece of skin finally comes free between your teeth, causing your lip to throb slightly. "And you asked if that could be my father."

Azriel's intense gaze never leaves yours as you turn your head to face him. You search his eyes, desperately trying to find any indication that he might deny it. But all you see is silence. It speaks louder than any words he could have said.

"Azriel, did you know?" Your voice trembles with emotion.

An oppressive silence hangs in the air, stretching out for what feels like an eternity before Azriel finally breaks it. His voice is hesitant and filled with a heavy weight. "I had suspicions," he admits.

You remain silent, your eyes focused on a point on the bookshelf across from you. In this moment, both of you are shrouded in stillness, but Azriel's eyes never leave you as he speaks. Your mind struggles to make sense of the situation, to form some coherent thought. Finally, you settle on one question. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Azriel leans back in his chair, his hand finding its way into his hair as his leg begins to bounce nervously. He may try to appear brooding and enigmatic, but you know him all too well. You can read his tells, and right now, he's fighting to keep his composure. "Rhys didn't want us to," he explains.

"Why not?" You turn your gaze to him, hardening.

Azriel's eyes search yours before he responds carefully, "He didn't think it mattered at the time."

"Did any of you consider it mattering anytime after that? Like when I got back? Or when I met him at the party?" You ask harshly, more than you intended. But your blood is boiling under your skin and you can't help the sharpness in your tone.

Azriel nods lightly, "It didn't cross my mind until I saw him."

"And you didn't think it might be helpful to pull me aside and clue me in on that little detail?" You hiss, your anger flaring.

"Y/N-" Azriel starts to defend himself, running a hand over his face in frustration.

You cut him off sharply. Your gaze hardens, your nose scrunching up in disgust as you continue,

"It's my life, Azriel."

"I know," he whispers, his face turning pale.

You shake your head, your knee bouncing harder with agitation. "Azriel, why would you keep this from me? How could you?"

"You have to believe me when I say it wasn't intentional. Y/N, I only wanted to keep you safe," Azriel pleads, his palms facing towards you.

You scoff and let out a bitter laugh as your gaze falls to the floor. Your foot kicks at an imaginary speck of dust as you seethe, "Certainly seems intentional. Was safety more important than my right to know the truth about my own family? Or is it because of Rhysand’s orders?"

Azriel looks down hesitantly, “It wasn’t just about Rhys. I couldn’t risk…”

You interrupt him, your voice breaking. “Risk what? My feelings? My trust in you?”

“I… I didn’t want to lose you. And I didn’t want you to get hurt in the process. That's why I had Cassian go get you that night," Azriel admits, looking remorseful.

You turn your hardened gaze back to him, your mouth filled with spite as you ask, "So who else knew?"

Azriel pauses for a moment before considering his answer. "Don't lie to me, Azriel," you warn.

"Only Cassian, Rhys, and myself," he confesses.

"That's it?" You confirm.

Azriel nods solemnly. "That's it.”

You nervously bite your lip again, trying to control the overwhelming emotions bubbling within you. Your tear-filled eyes glance back at the bookshelf, unable to meet Azriel's gaze as you struggle to find words. "Azriel," you begin, your voice quivering with emotion, "Why would you keep this from me?"

Azriel lets out a heavy sigh and leans forward, his intense eyes scanning your face. "I just wanted to keep you safe," he says softly.

Your eyes flicker up to meet his, filled with pain and betrayal. "What were you so afraid of? Me leaving? Or Rhysand, or whoever else decided it was best to keep this dirty little secret?" Your voice grows angry and accusatory.

Azriel swallows hard, looking pained. "Maybe we should talk to Rhysand-" he starts, but you quickly cut him off with a shake of your head.

"No," you say firmly, holding up one finger to stop him. "This isn't about Rhysand. I'll deal with him later." Your gaze hardens on Azriel's hazel stare, which looks empty and lost. "This is about you and me. And the fact that I've spent the last few months getting falling in fucking love with you while you've been keeping such a huge secret from me, someone who you claim to care so much about, because Rhysand told you not to share it with me. So tell me, Azriel, what the hell is wrong with that picture?"

Azriel stands up, taking a hesitant step towards you with his arms outstretched as if wanting to comfort you. But you take a step back, your throat catching in a sob as you hold out your hand to stop him. "Don't touch me," you hiss through gritted teeth.

"Y/N," Azriel pleads desperately, saying your name like a prayer. "You have to understand that I only did it to protect you."

"Well that clearly didn't work," you retort, your voice laced with bitterness. "In fact, it backfired spectacularly." You feel the hot tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head in disbelief.

"I know," Azriel continues, trying to close the distance between you. "And I'm so sorry."

You let out a bitter laugh. "Everyone's always so damn sorry. It’s like the background of my life." You shake your head again, feeling the sting of betrayal and heartache. "You're all the same, aren't you?" You hiss out, anger seeping through your words.

Azriel's eyes widen in shock and pleading, begging you not to finish that thought.

"You just manipulate us and string us along," you continue, the words tumbling out faster than you can process them. "You tell us what we want to hear and keep anything that might disrupt your perfect little world hidden from us." You pause for a moment before adding, "So I guess I'm sorry too. Sorry that you wasted your time trying to fix something that was never meant to be fixed."

Azriel's face contorts with pain and desperation as you hold back the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. You stand across from him, feeling the tether between you fray and snap with each passing second.

"Please," Azriel insists, taking a step closer, but you shake your head resolutely. His eyes fix on yours, pleading. "Just let me get Rhysand here so he can explain."

You meet his gaze with steely determination. "Even if he explains it, it doesn't change what you did."

Azriel nods in understanding. "I know that." Your stare is unwavering, but inside your heart is breaking. "Can I please bring him here?" he begs.

You wipe away tears with trembling hands and nod reluctantly. Azriel's relief is palpable, but you can't bring yourself to comfort him. He speaks to Rhysand through their bond before refocusing on you. "He’s on his way."

—

Your gaze pierces through the High Lord of the Night Court, sharp enough to cut through metal. Rhysand sits across from you at the coffee table, Azriel standing stiffly by the mantle watching the two of you square off.

"You knew." You hiss at Rhysand, your voice filled with frustration and accusation.

"I wasn't sure," he responds calmly, calculating every word.

"You were sure enough.”

"What if we were wrong?" He challenges. "What if we told you our suspicions and it turned out to be a mistake?"

"Then I would still be grateful that you trusted me enough to share and we wouldn't be having this conversation." You reply sharply.

“It would have put you in more danger" Rhysand counters.

"Then tell me not to go. Tell me your suspicions and give me all the details. Don't hide it from me," you retort, frustration boiling over.

"At the time, you were leaving," Rhysand continues.

"Then what harm would have come from telling me? I was already out of your hair, just tell me," you argue, feeling your emotions getting the better of you.

"We were trying to protect you, to keep you safe," Rhysand insists.

"By keeping me in the dark?" You scoff incredulously. "That's not protection, Rhysand. That's control."

"Control?" Rhysand repeats, his voice dangerously low. "Is that what you think I'm doing? I care about you; I would never put you in harm's way intentionally."

"You care about me?" You snap, disbelief coloring your tone. "If you truly cared, you would have trusted me enough to handle the truth, instead of treating me like some fragile porcelain doll that needs to be shielded from every harsh reality."

"I have spent centuries protecting those I care for, making difficult choices to ensure their safety," Rhysand counters, his expression darkening.

"But that doesn't give you the right to decide what I can handle, Rhysand," you retort. "I've spent my entire life being controlled by others, being manipulated and thrown around like I'm nothing. And this is just another example of that."

Silence settles heavily between the two of you as you both glare at each other, the tension crackling in the air.

Finally, you break the silence. "I am not a pawn in your game, Rhysand. I am not your possession to be guarded and controlled at your whim."

Rhysand's expression darkens even further, wounded pride flashing in his eyes. "I have always only wanted to keep you safe," he says, his voice strained with emotion.

"Safe from what? The truth?" You scoff, unable to mask the hurt in your voice.

"You may not understand the weight of those responsibilities," Rhysand says quietly.

"I may not understand them," you admit, "but that still doesn't give you the right to take away my agency and treat me like a child."

For a moment, it looks like Rhysand might explode with anger. But then his expression softens and he looks at you with genuine regret. "I never meant to make you feel that way," he says sincerely.

You let out a bitter laugh. "Well, you did. If you had told me, I would have been prepared," you say, frustration still lacing your words.

"But what if it had turned out to be a false alarm? We didn't want to cause unnecessary panic," Rhysand counters.

"I would rather have been prepared and panicked than caught off guard and vulnerable," you argue, feeling your anger flare up again.

Azriel shifts uncomfortably behind Rhysand, sensing the tension crackling in the air. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again, wisely choosing to stay out of the escalation.

"Do you really think I'm capable of handling anything that comes my way?" You ask him seriously. "I've fought for myself my entire life. I can handle the truth."

"I know you can," Rhysand says with a hint of regret in his voice. "But I still wanted to protect you from the burden." Rhysand’s gaze drops to the floor. “You already have so much riding against you.”

"I don't need your protection, Rhysand," you say firmly. "I need your trust."

The intensity in Rhysand's eyes gives you goosebumps as he speaks. "Y/N, I can't undo the past. I can't erase the pain that still lingers inside of you," he says, his voice heavy with regret.

You scoff, crossing your arms tighter around yourself. "Excuses won't change anything, Rhysand."

He takes a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "But what I can promise you is that there will be no more secrets. No more lies or manipulations. You have my word on that."

Your gaze shifts to Azriel as you stand up, determined to hold him accountable as well. Rhysand watches with a hint of unease as you make your way to the shadowsinger, who remains perched silently in the corner of the room.

"Swear it," you demand, your voice dripping with venom.

Azriel's eyes search yours, a flicker of pain crossing his features before he nods. "I swear," he whispers.

In that moment, a burst of tingling energy spreads across your arm, leaving behind intricate black spirals that coil and dance like living creatures. Simultaneously, a matching tattoo appears on Azriel's skin, a symbol of the unbreakable vow.

You turn back towards Rhysand, who watches in a mix of awe and concern at the bond forged between you and Azriel.

"Are we done here?" you ask sharply.

Rhysand nods slowly, understanding dawning on his face. "Yes," he replies softly.

Without another glance back at either of them, you stalk out of the room, your hand trailing down the newly marked ink on your arm.

—

As you slip out of the house, the heavy wooden door slams shut behind you. Your feet carry you with a sense of urgency, desperate for some kind of refuge amongst the fae who have no ties to your life. Each step feels heavier than the last, as if trying to outrun the anger that has taken root in your heart. The bustling streets are alive with activity, colorful storefronts and vibrant market stands lining the cobblestone path. Families laugh and play, while others seek pleasure in the lively city. But you hardly acknowledge them, lost in your own thoughts and troubles as you trudge without direction.

Time seems to pass by in a blur as you weave through the throngs of people. It's long after dark when you find yourself back at the Town House, its warm lights flickering invitingly inside. You exhale deeply as you stand at the base of the steps, before finally making your way up and slipping inside.

You kick off your shoes and toss them into the closet before removing your jacket. As you do, Azriel pops his head out from the sitting room entrance with a look of surprise and relief in his eyes.

"Hey," he says softly. "I didn't know if you were coming back." He steps closer as you hang up your coat.

You brush past him without a word, heading straight for the kitchen. Azriel follows behind, only a few steps behind. You open the cabinets, pulling down a bowl and a batch of granola that Elain had made and left for you. The crunchy mix falls into the bowl with a satisfying tinkling sound as you fill it with milk. Perching yourself on the counter, your feet dangle above the floor as you begin eating.

"I can make something for you," Azriel offers, lingering in the doorway.

You don't bother looking up from your bowl as you continue to spoon in mouthfuls of the sweet mixture. "I'm already eating.”

Azriel watches you for a moment, shifting his weight from side to side as he debates whether or not to say anything else. "I just wanted to say again how sorry I am.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze for a moment before returning back to your food. "It's done now," you shrug indifferently.

Azriel hesitates for a moment before approaching you, perching himself on the opposite end of the counter. He searches your face for any sign of forgiveness, his shadows flickering restlessly around him.

"I know sorry isn't enough," he starts, his voice laced with regret. "But I truly am. I should have been more transparent with you from the beginning."

You swallow another spoonful of granola before meeting his gaze. "Transparency would have been a good start," you reply coolly.

Azriel nods, his silver eyes reflecting a mixture of guilt and determination. "I understand if you can't trust me right now. But I want to make things right.”

You gently place your bowl down, turning to meet his gaze. His eyes, once vivid, now appear faded with a haunting hue of remorse and anguish etched across his face. It's as if the weight of your disappointment is physically unbearable for him to bear. "How do we move forwards?" Your inquiry is heartfelt, a plea born from uncertainty. Every fiber of your being yearns to seek solace in his embrace, those strong arms that have held you through countless nights, relinquishing control. Yet, a persistent ache at the back of your mind warns you; it reminds you that Azriel may not be different from those males who have caused you so much pain.

Azriel bites his lip, his voice tinged with earnestness. "It’s about rebuilding trust," he proposes.

"So, it all rests on me making a change?" Your words carry a hint of accusation.

"No," his tone deepens as he reaches out, clasping your arms, positioning himself directly in front of you. "No, I need to also prove to you that trust can be restored."

Tears well up in your eyes as you shake your head in turmoil. "I want to believe in us, Azriel. Truly, I do."

A flicker of hope lights up his features, uncertainty melting away as he realizes your genuine desire to bridge the gap between you both.

Tears welled in your eyes, "I wish I could stop all of this." Your confession falls from your lips in a soft pained whisper. The weight of the world presses down harder on you, and you wish for nothing more than to make it all stop.

Azriel’s hand moves hesitantly, cupping your chin and lifting your gaze to meet his. In his eyes, there is hope, light, and certainty that feels intoxicating, but you can’t help but worry if you can ever feel the same.

"If I could take it all away for you, I would," he whispered, his voice laced with determination. "I would drain oceans for you, fight dragons and demons, even slay the Mother herself if it meant making things better for you."

You smile lightly at his declaration, a small laugh escaping your lips. Azriel’s own smile grows wider as he leans closer to you. "I would tear mountains from the ground and burn the deserts," he continued.

"Oh, would you?" You question, a single tear slipping down your face.

"The things I would do for you would land me in a dank dark dungeon somewhere," he admits, a hint of humor in his voice. "But for you, it would be worth it."

"To suffer me?" You ask with a shaky voice.

"I will suffer you day after day," he responds without hesitation. His forehead presses against yours as you giggle lightly. Azriel’s lips tug into a smile revealing his teeth before it falters, his eyes shutting. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

You hesitate for a moment before wrapping your arms around his neck. "I know," you say softly

Azriel's hands moved down to your hips, gently grasping them as his fingers brushed against your exposed skin.

The kitchen was dimly lit, but the warmth radiating from Azriel's embrace made you feel safe and calm. Though a nagging feeling of distrust lingered in the back of your mind, it was drowned out by the sound of his steady heartbeat and his intoxicating scent. You found yourself leaning into him, savoring this moment of peace together.

Azriel opened his eyes and smiled at you, causing your heart to skip a beat. His hands remained on your hips as you leaned back against the cabinet, your legs swinging off the edge next to him.

But then Azriel spoke up, breaking the silence. "I do have one thing to ask," he said, his voice laced with humor.

You raised an eyebrow in response. "You really think you're in any position to make requests?" you teased.

Azriel shook his head and chuckled. "No, not like that. Just a clarification," he clarified.

Curiosity piqued, you turned to fully face him, waiting for him to continue.

His hazel eyes met yours as he spoke the words that made your heart stop. "You said you were falling in love with me."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but quickly masked your reaction. "No I didn't," you denied, shaking your head even though deep down you knew it was true. You remembered that moment when you had accidentally let slip that small secret of yours.

Azriel only looked at you with a knowing expression. "Pretty sure you did. When you were yelling at me...you said it."

Biting down on your lip with trepidation, you carefully weighed his words. "Can we just pretend it was a heated mistake?" you asked, trying to shrug off the gravity of his implications.

But Azriel's tone turned serious as he spoke again. "Listen, Y/N," he said, his voice grave. "If you didn't mean it, if it was just a slip of the tongue, then I'll understand." His intense gaze locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. "But I need to know...do you truly mean it?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched for any hint of deceit in his captivating hazel eyes. But all you found was a deep desire and longing that threatened to consume you whole. He seemed to be begging for an answer, but which one did he want?

Summoning your courage, you made a decision. "No more hiding," you whispered, leaning closer to him.

He nodded in understanding.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you spoke the words that had been weighing heavily on your heart.

"Azriel," you paused, feeling his heart stop beating at the sound of his name, "I am falling deeply in love with you."

Azriel's breath hitched at your confession. For a moment, time seemed to stand still around both of you as the only sound was the pounding of his heart in his chest. His eyes widened in disbelief, a glimmer of hope sparking within them as he studied your face for any signs of falsity.

"I..." Azriel struggled to find the words, overcome with emotion. He reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch featherlight. "I never dared to dream that you could feel the same way."

His words hung in the air, a fragile moment suspended in time as you both stood on the brink of something new and uncharted. The weight of your shared confessions resonated off the walls of the kitchen, entwining your fates in ways you never thought possible. Azriel's touch was both tender and intense, threatening to consume you with its passion.

As you looked into his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own vulnerabilities staring back at you. The walls around your heart trembled under his penetrating gaze, daring you to open up completely. In that moment, you made a choice - to trust not only him but also yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your nerves before meeting his unwavering gaze head-on. "I do," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I mean it, Azriel. I love you."

Azriel's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, his grip on your face tightening ever so slightly as he processed your words. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, the tension crackling between you both like electricity. Emotions swirled around you in a tumultuous storm, threatening to drown you in their intensity.

A moment passed in silence before a slow, disbelieving smile spread across Azriel's lips, illuminating his features with a radiant joy that took your breath away. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. The world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in each other's arms.

"I love you too," Azriel whispered against your hair, his voice raw with emotion. "More than anything in this world and the next.”

Sitting in the warm, cozy kitchen you shared, wrapped in each other's arms, you were enveloped in a sweet and intoxicating scent that seemed to emanate from the intertwining of your bodies. As you breathed in sync with each other, it felt as if the pieces of yourself that had been scattered were slowly coming back together, drawn by a magnetic force. You could hear his steady heartbeat, but also feel the rapid beat against your chest as his hands adjusted and gripped onto you, as if trying to hold onto your very soul. In response, you found yourself clinging onto him even tighter, your legs wrapping around him for a more intimate embrace. Gazing up at him through misty eyes, you noticed tears staining his tanned cheeks. "I'm still pissed at you, you know that right?" You said with a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Azriel let out a soft laugh, sniffing lightly as tears still clung to his lashes. "As long as you say you love me, you can be pissed at me until you're red in the face."

"Well," you teased, trailing a finger up his back towards his wings, "I think perhaps it's time you started making things up to me."

He shuddered slightly as your finger traced around the base of his wing, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he let out a soft moan from his pink lips. "Anything," he whispered breathlessly, "for you, anything."

Readers: Raise your hand if you are interested in the smut scene that comes after this as a bonus scene for tomorrow? If you're interested I can post it along with the next chapter as a lil bonus treat for you. If not then we'll just move forwards! Okay love you byeee

@thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @loglady00 @caninnes @weepingwerewolf @that-one-bibliphole

91 notes · View notes

midnight-glasses · 8 months ago

Text

This headcanon clearly inspired by @/dialovers-lover-xoxo check out her post!

Technically this is a part two of something I've done before, this is one of the characters I love the most! So I hope you guys can have fun with it.

Some things that I imagine he might have:

🍵🍃— He has a charming smile, often accompanied by a playful glint in his eyes.

💚 🌿 — He often expresses himself through physical gestures, such as running his hands through his hair or tapping his fingers rhythmically when he is deep in thought.

🍵🍃— Laito's skin is pale, typical of a vampire, but with a slightly warmer undertone that contrasts his clothing.

💚 🌿 — His posture is confident and relaxed, with a tendency to lean casually against surfaces.

🍵🍃— Laito's shoulders are broad.

💚 🌿 — He keeps his nails short and well-groomed, a practical choice for his active lifestyle.

🍵🍃— Laito's lips are naturally pink and often curved into a smirk or playful grin.

💚 🌿 — He has a habit of running his fingers through his hair when deep in thought or planning mischief.

🍵🍃— Laito has a robust build, not overly muscular but with a sturdy frame, this is natural when you are a vampire, he never bothered to develop his physique however.

💚 🌿 — Laito's hands are large and capable, with long fingers that are nimble and skilled in various tasks.

🍵🍃 — His fingers are nimble and adept, capable of delicate tasks like playing musical instruments or handling objects with ease.

💚 🌿 — He has a distinctive laugh that is often accompanied by a bright smile.

🍵🍃— Whenever Laito smiles, dimples form on his cheeks.

💚 🌿 — His skin has a smooth texture, often maintaining a pale complexion typical of vampires but with a healthy glow that suggests vitality.

🍵🍃 — When he walks, Laito's gait is purposeful yet fluid. He moves with a natural grace just for draws attention.

💚 🌿 — Laito's voice is velvety and smooth.

🍵🍃 — Laito has a well-defined collarbone, as well as shoulder blades.

💚 🌿 — Laito doesn't have a lot of hair, whether facially or bodily, the only places that hair can be seen without much searching are on his eyebrows and hair, however when you look at him more closely it's possible see small ginger hairs that adorn his skin, it's like the skin of a peach.

🍵🍃 — When it comes to body hair, it can be said that he is the middle ground between the triplets, with Kanato and Ayato being two polar opposites in this aspect.

💚🌿 — I like to imagine Laito having freckles too, considering he is a redhead. In my opinion, both Ayato and Laito could share these characteristics. There is no canon basis to support this, but I like to think so.

🍵🍃 — Laito definitely has some moles scattered across his body besides the one he has on his cheek; I suppose he has some on his shoulder and forearm, and another set of them on his abdomen.

💚🌿 — His hair is soft and very well taken care of, this is probably one of the parts he is most proud of.

🍵🍃— Long legs.

💚🌿 — Wide torso.

🍵🍃 — Laito's skin is surprisingly sensitive to touch, reacting subtly to different textures and temperatures.

💚🌿 — His eyes are lighter in tone than Ayato's eyes; however, unlike his brother, Laito's eyes are brighter, although hazier. It is often difficult to read his true emotions through his eyes.

🍵🍃 — Still commenting on his eyes, Laito has sharp eyes like those of a feline; their curvature is pointed, as if he had natural eyeliner.

💚🌿 — Laito has slightly calloused fingers due to many years of practicing with the piano; however, they are very smooth, almost imperceptible in a quick interaction with him.

🍵🍃 — He has a slender neck.

💚🌿 �� Laito's hands are particularly expressive, often gesturing or playing with objects.

🍵🍃 — He usually smells of sweet-smelling cologne and soap, which varies depending on the type he chose that day.

I could write more; however, at present, I do not have much time for that. I also intend to explore if I can do the same for his other siblings. Thank you for reading!

#diabolik lovers #midnightglasses #diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #midnightglasses headcanons #dialovers laito #laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #diabolik lovers headcanon #Laito Sakamaki Headcanons

110 notes · View notes

supernaturalscribe67 · 7 months ago

Text

Hidden Bruises

Words: 7,546

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Sam/Dean Winchester x Male!Winchester!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, PTSD, Mention of past Rape, Trauma, Sexual Assault, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Mention of Character Death, Azazel

Summary: After the death of their father, Sam and Dean's older brother went missing for a couple of weeks. Eventually, he returned, and everything seemed to go back to normal. When the brothers follow a lead that takes them to an abandoned schoolhouse, Sam and Dean come face to face with the reality of what happened to their brother when he went missing.

Request:

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the Winchester's (John/Dean/Sam) x Older brother finding out the Azaseal (yellow eye demon) s/a him and he's been keeping it secret intill they run into Azaseal and he gloats about what he did. (If you don't feel comfortable using yellow eyes that just some strong random demon is fine)

Maybe reader is someone who has always took care of all of them including when John was drunk or injured, took care of both his brothers doing whatever he could

@xweirdo101x

A/N: I'm not dead! Just stressed! These past several months have been horrible, but I'm happy to say I'm back in the groove of writing! This request has been long overdue and I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to get it out, I did not forget everyone who sent in a request! I hope you enjoy the story! Do NOT read if any of the warnings are triggering to you. Keep yourself healthy, keep yourself safe. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

~ Much Love

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

“Dude, are you sure you’re taking me down the right road?” Dean asked, brows furrowed as he looked in the rear-view mirror occasionally.

“I’m sure.” (Y/N) confirmed, gaze focused on Google Maps, which he had cued up for the last thirty minutes of their drive.

“We’ve been driving the backroads for ages. Never thought an old schoolhouse could be this deep in the countryside.”

“A lot of people settled here at some point, Dean,” Sam said with a brief shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Sam’s right. According to local history, the first group of settlers that arrived built make-shift houses deeper in the woodland areas for better hunting and fishing grounds. To accommodate, they built a schoolhouse in the middle of the settlements so all the kids would be able to make it to school a little easier. Once the years passed and all the people started moving away to start the nearby town, the schoolhouse was practically abandoned. There wasn’t any need for it anymore.”

“Look at you doing your research,” Dean teased with a smirk.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “More than you, asshole,” he mumbled. “Oh! There should be a small clearing up here to your left. Go ahead and turn in there, but we’re going to need to walk the rest of the way,”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, grow up, Dean.”

“Says the one sitting in the middle of the backseat.”

“You’re so lucky I love this car as much as you do, otherwise I’d make you drive her into a tree.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, baby brother,”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Sam waved his hands, cutting them off. “As much as I like seeing you two go at it, now’s not the time.”

Both Dean and (Y/N) opened their mouths to object but stopped themselves. They each grumbled something incoherent under their breath. Dean returned to the road and (Y/N) looked down at his phone.

“Are you going to turn here?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled.

Dean slowly turned the wheel and edged the Impala onto the beginning of a dirt path. A couple of feet ahead of the car, the path narrowed and was overgrown by trees. Even if the Impala would have been smaller, there was no possible way it would be able to fit down the path. It appeared to be more the size of a hiking or bike trail. Once the car was settled, Dean turned the engine off, the heavy purr dying to a low hum as the heat dissipated. The headlights stayed on for a couple of seconds before going out.

“Let’s rock ‘n roll,” Dean grunted as he stepped out of the car.

Sam and (Y/N) soon followed after, the three of them heading to the back of the car. Dean popped the trunk and lifted the cover, revealing their large array of weapons. Each of them took their respective weapons and sheathed them before the trunk was closed with a heavy bang that echoed throughout the trees.

“Could you be any louder? We don’t know how close the schoolhouse is from here.” (Y/N) grumbled.

“Bite me,” Dean mumbled.

“Guys,” Sam sighed.

(Y/N) held up his hand in surrender. “Fine, fine,” he turned away from his brothers and began to make his way towards the dirt path.

“You sure it’s down this way?” Sam asked, following after him.

“Yeah, that is, if we assume the coordinates are accurate.”

“And you’re sure you can trust Google with that?” Dean asked.

“Same as we trust any other research material. All I know is that it should be in some type of field.”

Dean nodded, satisfied with the answer.

They began to make their way down the dark, dirt path, towards the canopy of trees, bent after years of surviving thunderstorm after thunderstorm. As they approached the trees, they pulled their flashlights out, illuminating the path ahead. The treetops were thick and heavy, the moonlight disappearing when they passed the entrance to the woods.

Thirty minutes filled with dodging bulging tree roots and low tree branches, accompanied by some complaints from Dean about how far they had walked, moonbeams became visible through the upcoming branches. (Y/N) held up his hand, and turned off his light, before he walked towards the clearing. Sam and Dean followed suit, killing the light.

Past the wall of tree branches, a field became visible. Sat in the middle, about twenty feet away from the group, was an old, dilapidated building. The building sat in front of them, tall and menacing, as if a dark aura circled the decaying brick exterior. It stood three stories tall, some windows broken, and glass surrounding the foundation. The steps out front were cracked with some concrete pieces scattered about near the bottom. The bold lettering that rested right above the front doors was faded, some letters almost invisible, but it was clear that it was supposed to read out the name of the school. (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder how the interior of the building looked compared to the outside.

One thing that struck the group as odd, however, was the fact that some of the windows were filled with warm lights, indicating power had been added to the ancient building. It wasn’t until they got closer that they realized a small hum was disrupting the evening crickets in their peaceful song. (Y/N) raised his hand, halting their movements. They got down low, the only cover they had being the overgrown grass that engulfed their bodies.

“They’re using a generator.” (Y/N)’s voice was low and deep.

Sam sighed. “And it looks like there’s only one entrance. I wouldn’t trust those windows either. No one knows how long it’s been since they’ve been opened.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s gotta be against fire code to have one doorway.” He mumbled.

“The fire code came around in the 1600s, but I highly doubt these settlers cared about it.” (Y/N) muttered. “I’m going to sneak towards the generator and turn it off. You two keep an eye out to see if there’s any movement inside. We can go in then,”

“Got it,” they said in unison.

(Y/N) gave a brief nod before he headed towards the building, keeping low in case of peering eyes from the windows. Rounding the side of the building, the humming became almost deafening. A dull light illuminated a small patch of grass on the other side of the school. With his eyes glued to the light, (Y/N) swiftly made his way around and to the back. The generator sat against the foundation, rumbling loudly and shaking the earth around it. He grabbed his flashlight from his waistband and shone it on the generator, furrowing his brows as he looked for a way to stop it. Finally, he saw the power switch, took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead, and switched it off.

The power died immediately, the once bright school house going dark in an instant. (Y/N) knew he had to be quick. He made his way back towards the front. Sam and Dean stood at the base of the steps, their weapons drawn. (Y/N) drew his before he joined his brothers.

“Alright, let’s gank these sons of bitches,” he mumbled, taking the lead as they entered the school.

It was a lot darker inside than they originally thought it would be. Despite the massive windows in each room, the decades' worth of dust covered the natural moonlight, engulfing them in darkness. They brought out their flashlights, illuminating the entranceway. Their dim lights skimmed over the walls and floors, taking it in as they took careful steps deeper into the school.

The interior of the school was just as damaged as the exterior. No longer was it a place of learning, but a place filled with debris and graffiti. Artwork and random words riddled the walls in different colored spray paints and many wooden panels lined the floor that were covered in a ripped-up, faded green carpet. The three of them took their time navigating through the mess that was near the front door to get to the main hall. A room was located to the left, which would appear to be the location of the office and the home of the principal when the school was in operation.

A couple of feet away from the front door, there was an archway that led down a narrow hallway as well as a staircase to the right. The halls were a little more clean compared to the entrance. All of the debris was pushed to one side or the other, making it a little easier to navigate through. (Y/N) turned to his brothers and gestured down the hall.

“You two take this hall and I’ll check upstairs,” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, yet booming in the dead silence that surrounded them.

Dean furrowed his brows. “What? No.” Dean protested, his voice at the same level as (Y/N)’s had been. “We stick together.”

“There shouldn’t be too many in here. I’ll be fine on my own. You two stick together, and shout if you need help.”

“But-”

“Dean,” (Y/N)’s tone was low. “I’m not arguing about this.”

Dean shared a glance with Sam before he shook his head in disapproval and began to make his way down the hallway. (Y/N) watched them for a couple of seconds before he turned. He stalked towards the narrow staircase, caged in by cracked and deteriorating walls. Other than the small amount of concrete or wood that was scattered around on the stairs that he had to avoid, they were rather clear compared to the entrance. Gingerly, he placed his hand on top of the railing, an old wooden rod that had paint and wood chipped away at it. He used it as a guide as he made his way up and to the second floor. The stairs creaked under his weight, despite his careful steps.

While he walked, he concentrated heavily on his sense of hearing. With his sight limited, he was relying exclusively on his ears to tell him if anyone, or anything, was near. When he reached the landing, he shone his flashlight down a hall that looked identical to the one Sam and Dean had wandered down.

The second floor was in the same state as the first floor with scattered debris on either one side or the other of the walkway. Doors lined the walls, some fully opened, and some cracked ever so slightly. One by one, he took a step into every room, shining his light around all four corners. He whispered a quiet ‘clear’ following each empty room he examined.

All of the rooms were dimly lit with the mixture of (Y/N)’s flashlight and the faded moonbeams begging to go through the dusty windows. Chairs and desks were strewed about, some toppled over, while others rested in, presumably, the same spot they did all those years ago. Those tables and chairs were unknowingly preserving the history of the once-active school.

It was quiet. Too quiet. A part of (Y/N) wanted to believe that the intel they received might have been wrong, that no demons were haunting the very halls he walked, but the generator out back told no lies. Squatters wouldn’t waste what little money they had on luxuries such as that, nor would they put forth the time and the effort to wire the entire building. The other part of him, the logical side, told him that the demons were good. Sneaky. They knew how to hide and they did it well. He had to be even more focused than he already had been.

He hoped Sam and Dean were doing okay.

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to split up.

(Y/N) got to the last room, on the left side of the hallway. He noted that it was the only door that had been shut, making sure to be extra cautious as he reached a hand forward, grasping the splintered doorknob. As he opened the door, the aged hinges creaked, the sound echoing down the hallway, breaking the uneasy silence. The room was noticeably darker than the rest, not an ounce of moonlight visible. (Y/N) raised his light and shone it around the room. He took a couple of steps inside, broken glass crackling underneath his boots. When he shined his light on the window, he noticed that it had been completely boarded up, the remnants of a black trash bag that had once covered it hanging from nails lazily placed along the window sill.

Just as he got to the center of the room, the door hinges creaked again, loud and eerie. (Y/N) was quick to turn around, but he was only able to catch the final seconds before the door closed. His breathing stopped, heart racing inside of his chest. He listened, closely, but he heard nothing. No footsteps. No breathing. Nothing.

“Guess who,” A deep, scratchy, all too familiar voice spoke.

The same voice that plagued his mind and haunted his dreams.

He froze.

Like a deer in headlights.

Then, his world went black.

*~*

The harsh light wasn’t good for his pounding head. A throaty moan slipped past (Y/N)’s lips as he awoke, vision blurry and eyes watery. He slowly lifted his head, groaning at the noticeable crick in his neck. He could feel that he was slouched in a chair, his back was aching from the posture, but he felt too nauseous and weak to fix it. When his vision cleared, he was able to take in some of the details of the room he was in. It was obvious that the room used to be one of the many classrooms, desks and chairs were pushed to one side of the room, stacked up to the point where they could topple at any moment. A single window stood across the way, the bottom half completely shattered with a puddle of broken shards resting beneath. The chill night air whistled and caressed his face. To his right were two massive floodlights, shining down on him. To his left, were Sam and Dean, bound to chairs the same as he was.

Sam and Dean.

(Y/N) quickly sat up, despite the throbbing in his head. In an attempt to move his arms, he could feel how tight the ropes were around his wrists and forearms. The demons were skilled, it seemed.

“Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” Dean grumbled, his speech coming out slurred.

He has a concussion.

“What the Hell happened?” (Y/N) hissed.

“They came out of nowhere,” Sam mumbled. His eyes were half-lidded, looking as if he was experiencing the same pain as (Y/N).

“There were too many of them.” Dean finished.

(Y/N) cursed under his breath as he tried to wiggle his arms out of the binds, but it was all to no avail. He was used to being held captive by people who didn’t know how to tie a knot, but the way he was tied up was rather intricate. He wasn’t too sure he would be able to break out of it.

“How many did you guys run into?”

“I don’t know, man,” Dean answered. “A dozen, maybe more. You?”

(Y/N) stopped moving, his eyes cast down to the floor. “Just one,”

“One? You got taken out by a single demon?”

“It was dark,” (Y/N) defended himself with a growl. “I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t hear anything. It was silent.”

Don’t think about his voice. Don’t think about his voice.

“Still, to be taken out by one demon, geez,” Dean mumbled.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue with you! I’m trying to get us out of here!”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” a sweet, sultry, female voice echoed in the room. “You won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” a demon came from behind them, a wide smile on her lips.

She walked behind (Y/N), grabbed the knots connected to his wrists and arms, and tugged at them.

“Did these myself,” she spoke proudly. “Wasn’t too difficult, really. Just seems as if people aren’t willing to teach themselves anything useful anymore,” she pursed her lips, crossing her arms underneath her breasts.

(Y/N) snarled as the frayed ropes rubbed against his skin, scratching the surface. “If you’re done boosting your ego for five minutes, I’d really appreciate it if you let us go.” He spoke between clenched teeth.

The demon let out a boisterous laugh as she walked around the chair to stand in front of him. “Are you kidding?” She scoffed. “The Winchesters practically fall into our lap, and you think we’re going to let you go? Just like that?” She snapped her fingers. “Now, what would my boss think of me if I did that?”

“And who, exactly, is your boss?” Dean asked.

“Oh, you know him. Quite well, actually. He’s so excited to see you all again.” She walked over to (Y/N), the back of her hand brushing against his cheek gingerly. “Especially you.” Her voice was low, menacing.

With that, the demon left, the click of the doorknob filling the silence. (Y/N) was tense. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Gooseflesh littered his arms, the hairs standing up. The panic began to set in.

Have to get out. Have to get out. Have to get out. HAVE TO GET OUT.

“We have to go.” (Y/N) said, his voice barely above a whisper and shaky.

(Y/N) began to frantically pull at the ropes, only resulting in them tightening around his arms. His muscles strained, shoulders shifting. Sam and Dean both tried to wiggle out of their confinements. Sam’s movements were slower and more thoughtful than his brothers’.

“Do you know who she’s talking about?” Sam leaned his head close to (Y/N), voice hushed.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is that we get the fuck out of here.” (Y/N)’s voice was louder than it normally would have been, the anxiety flooding his words.

Sam and Dean shared a look of concern but decided to say nothing. They had never seen their brother so frazzled. Dare they say, scared? If there was one thing that (Y/N) never experienced when he was on hunts, it was fear. (Y/N) was always the one who kept a calm and collected attitude, barked orders, kept victims quiet during stressful situations, and he was the one Sam and Dean always fell back on. It was as if the brother they were bound next to wasn’t the same person.

They all worked on getting the ropes off of them. Sam and Dean weren’t struggling as much as (Y/N) seemed to, who, at first glance, one would assume had never gotten out of binds before. That was far from the truth. He was, normally, the first one to get out of the ropes, as if he was an escape artist in a previous life. It was rather evident that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Sam and Dean, however, didn’t have the slightest clue.

Have to get out. Have to get out.

CLICK

The door opened, and (Y/N) froze. He was sure his heart stopped as well. Every muscle felt as if they were tying themselves together in intricate knots. The creaking hinges seemed louder than before, almost as if they were teasing him. Laughing at his pain. Mocking him. Or, perhaps, they were warning him.

Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.

“Well, well, well…” The voice spoke, amusement evident.

(Y/N)’s blood ran cold. In situations like that, when faced with immediate danger, our brain turns to one of three options; fight, flight, or freeze. You can defend yourself, run away, or accept your fate. Being tied to the chair didn’t give (Y/N) the chance for flight, and there wasn’t an ounce of fight left in his body. So, he sat there, frozen, eyes wide with fear. The last time he was filled with that much fear was when he last encountered the demon. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been that long ago.

A hand on his shoulder caused him to jump. He knew that touch all too well. It felt as if fire was spreading from the hand, down his torso, and through the rest of his body.

Azazel turned to stand in front of the three Winchesters, his deep, yellow eyes lingering over (Y/N)’s body. Sam and Dean tensed, their jaws clenched, noses scrunched as they stared down the demon.

“Yellow eyes,” Dean said between clenched teeth.

“Oh, come on, Dean, you know I’m much more than just my eyes,” Azazel smirked. “You know, me and my demons were having a fairly good night. Got a lot planned for you, Sammy. Of course, the plan has some kinks to work through, but what plan doesn’t? A peaceful night, nonetheless. Imagine my surprise when the lights turned off. Not only that, but imagine my surprise when I hear who turned it off.”

Azazel’s eyes scanned over the brothers, but they always wandered back to (Y/N). Each time they did, it felt like he was getting stabbed in the gut.

“You know,” Azazel continued. “I can’t thank you enough for showing up unannounced. I mean, that’s one less child I need to find,” he gestured to Sam. “Not only that,” Azazel turned to (Y/N), stalking over toward him at an agonizing pace. “But you brought my favorite little plaything.”

This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Please don’t let this be real.

When Azazel placed his calloused hand on (Y/N)’s jaw, fingers trailing down to his chin, (Y/N) was faced with the brutal reality that everything was real. (Y/N) hadn’t realized how much he had been shaking until Azazel let out a deep laugh.

“Still scared?” He teased, his tongue poking through his eerie grin.

“Leave him alone,” Sam growled. “It’s me you want.”

“Correction, Sam, I want both of you.”

“Why? What is he to you!?”

Azazel looked at Sam, then Dean, then back at Sam. His brows raised as a look of realization crossed his face. “Oh,” he cooed, tilting his head to the side as he bent down in front of (Y/N), their noses almost touching. “You never told them, did you.”

“Told us what?” Dean questioned. “(Y/N), what the Hell is he talking about!?”

(Y/N) couldn’t speak. He felt as if there were cobwebs in his throat, his lips and mouth dry, and no part of his body wanted to function. Azazel stared into his eyes. Correction: Azazel stared into his soul. The soul that he had left was damaged. Oh, did that fact fill the demon with pride. Azazel’s lips curled up at the corner of his mouth as he stood up straight. He sauntered over so he was standing in front of Sam and Dean.

“Months ago…” Azazel began. “After your dear old Daddy passed, your brother decided to go on a little manhunt, all on his own.”

Sam and Dean turned their gaze to (Y/N). Sam’s eyes were wide with shock and betrayal, while Dean’s expression could only be described as pure anger. Their minds immediately drifted to the worst possible outcome from that hunt. Their first thought drifted to him selling his soul. Making a deal with Azazel. While that seemed like a possibility, it didn’t make sense, as Azazel still spoke as if he had plans for Sam. What could (Y/N) have done?

Azazel began to make his way back over to (Y/N), his back straight, his posture intimidating. “After a couple of pathetic weeks of trying to find me, he was finally able to catch up to me.” Azazel stood in front of him. Slowly, he leaned down, his breath fanning over (Y/N)’s face. “Do you want to tell them all of the gory details? Or should I?”

(Y/N)’s breath quickened, chest noticeably rising and falling at a rapid pace. The panic became evident on his face. Azazel reached a hand up and let it rest on (Y/N)’s knee.

“Do you want to tell them how you quivered under my touch? How you were shaking and sobbing? How you were crying for them to save you?”

As he talked, his hand trailed further and further up his thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch. (Y/N)’s body began to convulse, eyes bulging from their sockets. Whimpers escaped his parted lips as he tried desperately to wiggle away from his touch.

Have to get away. Have to get away. Get away. GET AWAY.

“Hey!” Sam shouted.

“Get away from him!” Dean exclaimed.

“Tell me,” Azazel continued, ignoring Sam and Dean’s loud protests, his attention solely focused on (Y/N). “Do you still hear my voice as you drift off to sleep at night? Do you still feel my fingers digging into your hips? Do you still feel my cock inside that tight little hole of yours?” He grunted as he gripped (Y/N)’s penis through his jeans tightly.

“No! Please!” (Y/N) screamed louder than he had ever screamed before. Tears rolled down his cheeks freely, painting his face with their wetness. He desperately attempted to get away, not caring that the ropes dug into his flesh, rubbing it raw. His sobs echoed off the walls.

“That’s right,” Azazel grinned wickedly, teeth and jaw clenched. Somehow, his quiet voice was the only thing (Y/N) could hear. Not the hum of the floodlights, not his brothers’ angry shouts, just Azazel. “Cry, my little pet.”

“You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you! Do you hear me? I will fucking kill you!” Dean screamed to the point of almost instantly becoming hoarse.

“Oh, I hear you boys loud and clear.” Azazel pulled his hand away from (Y/N). “And I must say, it’s getting rather irritating. I might just have to take my pet somewhere else to play.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sam snarled.

“Well, not now. I’ve worked him up a little too much for me to have a good time playing with him.” He glanced at (Y/N), licking his lips predatorily. “It won’t be any fun making him scream now. Don’t want him to lose his voice too soon. Besides, you two made a mess of one of our rooms, and I need to make sure that everything necessary is accounted for.”

Azazel continued to stare at (Y/N), obvious amusement etched on his face. The tears continued to fall, but he was silent. His bottom lip wobbled. By the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, it was evident he was holding back cries he desperately wanted to let out. Azazel grabbed him tightly by the jaw, tilted his head up, and planted a rough, bruising kiss on his lips. Before Sam and Dean could resume their shouting, he pulled away.

“I’ll see you soon, little pet.” He purred, fingers trailing over his wet cheeks before he stalked out of the room, not even giving Sam and Dean a second glance.

Click

Creak

Slam

Silence

The three of them sat there and said nothing. (Y/N) stared off towards the window, head moving from side to side ever so slightly. His brain was foggy and dizzy from the overstimulation. Dean’s jaw was clenched, nostrils flared. His eyes glimmered with a murderous rage. He stared at his older brother - his broken older brother - before turning his attention over to Sam. Sam shared the same look of anger as he did.

What no one had been aware of was that, while the chaos with Azazel unfolded, Sam had been working on the ropes around his arms. A couple of silent seconds after they were left alone in the room, Sam let out a grunt and pulled his arms apart. The ropes fell onto the floor with a light thud. With determination in his eyes, Sam turned and untied (Y/N) first before going over to Dean. Once Dean was free, he stood, stretched his neck muscles, and then turned for the door, eyes flooded with blind rage. Sam was quick to grab him by the upper arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“What’re you doing?” He whispered.

“I’m going after that son of a bitch, Sam, what do you think I’m doing?” Dean retorted.

“We can’t. There are too many of them, and we don’t have our weapons anymore.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Dean pulled his arm from Sam’s grasp and turned to leave, but was quickly grabbed by Sam once more. “Let go, Sam.”

“Dean, I want the bastard dead just as much as you do, even more now, but we’re outnumbered. Plus, (Y/N) needs us.”

Hearing his brother’s name snapped him out of the trance he was in. Dean snapped his head around towards (Y/N), who was still sitting in the chair.

“(Y/N),” he breathed, quickly making his way over to him. Sam followed.

Once they were in front of (Y/N), they could see just how much he was affected. His arms hung at his side lamely, his gaze still set towards the window. They were empty, devoid of any emotion. His cheeks were still stained, and his lips were slightly parted. They had started to swell.

“Hey, hey, (Y/N),” Dean reached up and cupped his face, turning his head so he would look at him. “Hey, buddy, you’re okay. You’re safe. He’s not here anymore, but we have to get out of here. Can you stand up?”

Silence.

Dean slowly nodded. “Alright, Sam, you get that window open and we’ll get out of here. I’ll grab him.”

Sam moved over to the window, scraping some of the broken glass away from it. He glanced out the window and let out a breath of relief when he saw they were on the first floor. He grabbed the top of the window, lifting it, but it didn’t budge. He cursed under his breath and took a deep breath as he hoisted the window open with all of his strength. The bottom half of the window slammed upwards, causing the wall to shake. He raised his brows and turned to Dean, gesturing him over quickly.

Dean reached under (Y/N)’s legs and picked him up bridal style. He held him tight and close to his chest as he swiftly made his way over to the window. Sam was the first one to climb out, hissing as the splinters from the window sill embedded themselves into his hands. Once his feet were on the ground, he turned back to the window.

“Pass him through,” he held his arms out.

Dean glanced behind him at the door before he helped Sam get (Y/N) through the window. Once (Y/N) was through, Sam cradled him in his arms just as Dean had. Dean moved even faster to get out of the window. When they were outside, they could see, in the distance, the familiar sight of the sun peeking out past the horizon. They shared a glance, examined their surroundings, and then rushed back towards the tall trees at the edge of the field.

They ran at Mach speed through the forest, hopping over roots and dodging protruding branches. Now and then, Sam would look down at his brother, still held tight to his chest, but the same, vacant expression was always present on his face. Sam was, admittedly, worried for him. He had never seen (Y/N) in such a vulnerable state. He was always the level-headed one, so put together. He was the one that Sam and Dean leaned on in times of trouble, the one that picked them up when they were down, the one to jump to their aid when they needed him the most without any hesitation.

And here he was, carrying him in his arms, the broken shell of his oldest brother. Never, in a million years, would he have imagined this scenario. To him, it was always supposed to be the other way around, as it had been on multiple occasions. He felt so heavy, but, at the same time, light as a feather, as if Sam could carry him for hundreds of miles if he had to. He would in a heartbeat.

By the time they reached the edge of the wood, the sky had turned a brilliant pinkish-orange, and mourning doves began to sing their elegant tune. Dean broke out into a wide grin as Baby came into view.

“Oh, Baby, I am never leaving you again,” he mumbled as he ran his hand over her hood.

“Dean? Keys?” Sam raised his brows.

Dean slowly frowned. He patted his jean pockets, then his coat pockets. He grumbled, unzipped his coat, and reached inside. After seconds of searching, he let out a heavy sigh of relief as he pulled the keys out of an inner pocket.

“Thank God for inside pockets.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just get the door opened.”

“Right, right…”

Dean unlocked the car before he rounded the corner to the back passenger’s side. He opened the door.

“How is he?” He asked.

Sam took a moment to look down at (Y/N). He was so focused on getting them as far away from the school as possible, that he didn’t even notice that he had fallen asleep. Sam felt relief wash over him, glad that his brother didn’t have to experience any more of those negative thoughts he must’ve had. At least, not at that moment. Carefully, Sam navigated his way to the backseat, laying (Y/N) on his side. He made sure not to wake him. With everything he had gone through and all the emotions that had seemingly piled onto him all at once, he wasn’t sure how easy (Y/N) would be to wake up. He must have been exhausted.

“He’s fine, at least, for now,” Sam mumbled.

Once (Y/N) was situated in the backseat, Sam stretched, not having realized the strain he had received from carrying him for so long. He closed the door as quietly as he could and took his spot in the passenger’s seat. Dean walked around the car and got into the driver’s side. He was quick to start the car, the rumble of the engine sending vibrations through the seats. Dean pulled off the dirt road and did a U-Turn, heading back into town.

The first five minutes of the ride were silent. Not even the radio dared speak up. Sam and Dean’s eyes were glued to the road, both of them taking turns to occasionally look back at (Y/N).

Dean was the first one to speak.

“We need to get the Hell out of Dodge.” He said.

Sam nodded. “You’re right. If Yellow Eyes is this close, he’ll waste no time trying to find us. I can go in, pack all of our stuff, and check us out. Then, I say we drive as far away as possible.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Another deep silence. Dean was the first one to speak again.

“How come he never told us?”

Sam hesitated for a moment, considering the question himself. He tried to look at it from a personal standpoint. Why didn’t he tell them? They’re family. They tell each other everything. But do they? He tried to look at it from a logical standpoint.

It was one thing the Winchesters were notorious for; their lack of communication when it comes to their emotions. It was preached to them when they were younger, that emotions were the reason hunters got killed. You had to go in, get the job done, and don’t let it get to you. Then again, a vast majority of hunters are alcoholics, so what does that say about them? They are human, after all.

What happens when something serious occurs? Something so traumatic that they lose themselves at the first sight of the enemy? That was something neither the hunting life nor their father had prepared them for. At that point, they were lost.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, you saw the way he acted when Yellow Eyes walked in.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Yeah.”

“I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, nor what he went through. I mean, if something like that happened to you, would you tell us?”

Dean opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. He clenched onto the steering wheel. “No,” he mumbled.

“Exactly, I mean…” he trailed. “This is fucked up.”

“Yeah, extremely fucked up. You have no idea how hard it is for me to drive away. I wanna go back there and kill him so bad.” Dean spoke between clenched teeth, his grip on the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.

“Trust me, Dean, I get it.” Sam nodded. “But right now, we should focus on (Y/N). He needs us right now, more than anything.”

Dean looked over at Sam for a second before glancing in the rearview mirror at his older brother’s sleeping form. On that day, he vowed that he would kill Azazel with his own two hands.

*~*

His vision was fading, black spots decorating his peripherals. Any sound had been replaced with a low buzz. His breathing was staggered and labored. Every inch of his body was on fire as if he was being burned from the inside out. The only relief he felt was the cool concrete that was pressed against his cheek. It felt as if his body weighed a thousand pounds. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t move.

Suddenly, the pain shot through his body like a bullet, his muscles and nerves tensing. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

“Aw, isn’t that cute,” Azazel growled from above him.

(Y/N)’s fear-filled eyes shot towards the sound of his voice. Azazel’s deep, yellow eyes stared into him intently, filled with rage, lust, and desire. (Y/N) tried to scream louder, but, still, no sound came out.

“Sam! Dean! Help me, please!” He mouthed, hot tears streaming down his face.

“Look at you trying to call out for your brothers. Well, I hate to break it to you, little pet, but they aren’t here, and they’ll never find you if I can help it.”

Azazel caressed his cheek before grabbing his hair roughly, yanking his head back. In a flash, a cool, sharp black was pressed against his neck.

“Now, be a good boy and take it.”

The pain intensified, lightning shooting through his veins.

Take it.

Please.

Take it.

Someone.

Take it!

Help me.

TAKE IT

*~*

(Y/N) gasped as he jolted upright, eyes wide and alert. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his pants. In an instant, Sam and Dean were by his side. Dean stood next to the bed while Sam sat next to him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam spoke in a soothing voice, hesitantly reaching toward him. “You’re safe, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) jerked away from his touch, and Sam was quick to pull back. As (Y/N) attempted to gather himself, he looked around the room. They were in a motel room, although it was different than the one (Y/N) remembered being in. What did he remember? The last thing he could recall was the look on Azazel’s face as he smirked down at him, the look in those deep, demonic eyes. Those damned eyes. He didn’t remember leaving the school, nor did he remember their journey to another motel room.

“Where are we?” he asked quietly, his voice hoarse and broken.

“Chattanooga,” Dean replied. “A couple hours south of where we were.”

(Y/N) nodded in acknowledgment. Then it was silent. No one said anything, the only sound filling the room was the electricity coursing through the air from the outdated box TV sat on the dresser. (Y/N)’s gaze was cast down towards the discolored comforter while Sam and Dean shared a glance as if silently urging one another to say something. Finally, it was Sam who spoke up.

“Look, if you don’t wanna talk about it, we-”

“He was right,” (Y/N) interrupted.

Sam and Dean looked at each other before they turned their attention back to their older brother. Dean sat down on the bed opposite (Y/N), and leaned forward, hands folded.

“Everything he said was true.” (Y/N) swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

“So, after dad died…” Sam trailed.

“When I went AWOL? Yeah. I, uh, I had found where he was. Didn’t take that long, at least, not as long as I thought it was going to take. I was so set on killing him that I didn’t take into account the fact that there might be other demons with him. It was like I was…blind by rage…” (Y/N) lowered his head and twiddled his thumbs. “I was captured pretty easily, I hate to admit. Then, he came in…you know the rest.”

(Y/N) was unaware of the tears that had begun to form in the corner of his eyes. He refused to look at his brothers. What would they say? What would they think? Would they be disappointed? Disgusted? Betrayed? He didn’t think he could handle what they thought about him at that moment.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dean asked softly.

(Y/N) glanced up at them, brows furrowed with a look of confusion. Sam and Dean’s expressions conveyed a feeling of sadness. Of hurt. (Y/N) clenched his hands into weak fists and looked down.

“I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to be the one to protect you guys, not the other way around. I’m supposed to be the strong one. How would you think of me knowing your big brother couldn’t even stop himself from getting raped?” (Y/N)’s voice broke, tears flowing more freely.

Sam and Dean watched (Y/N) hug himself tightly. Slowly, they began to make their way onto the bed, not wanting to startle him in such a fragile state. With Sam on one side and Dean on the other, they wrapped their arms loosely and gently around his shaking frame.

“(Y/N), I hope you know that we don’t think any less of you because of this,” Sam said.

“Yeah, this isn’t your fault,” Dean agreed.

(Y/N) shook his head. “If I wouldn’t have gone after him…” he sobbed.

Dean shushed him, reaching a hand up to gently caress his head. (Y/N) stopped what he was saying and just leaned against his brothers. The Winchesters were never good with comfort. Get over it, they were always told. Stop being so sensitive. Real men don’t cry, type of narrative. They all just sat there in silence, sobs continuing to fall from (Y/N)’s lips.

He was always so scared about the way his brothers would react. He decided to take a page out of John Winchester’s book of dealing with his emotions. Bottle it up and everything would be okay, which was completely false. That much was evident back at the schoolhouse. (Y/N) wasn’t okay. Hell, that had been the first moment he had verbally admitted that he had been raped, and it hurt.

Even though he felt a small sense of security in the arms of his brothers, he still didn’t feel safe. Knowing Azazel, his rapist, was still roaming the world in search of them always kept him on edge. He wasn’t sure he would ever feel peace unless he witnessed, firsthand, the life drain from those yellow eyes of his. After that, he wasn’t certain how he would feel.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice broke the dead silence.

(Y/N) looked up at him, eyes red, but slowly drying. Dean gazed down at him with a look of determination on his face.

“We got this, okay? As long as you’re with us, we won’t let anything else happen to you. You’ve been our big brother and protected us our whole lives. Now it’s our turn to protect you.”

(Y/N) took a moment to look at Dean, then looked over at Sam. He gave a small, brief nod as he pulled them closer for a tighter embrace.

“Thank you,” he spoke in a hushed tone.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Sam shook his head. “You would do the same for us.”

(Y/N) nodded.

“And if there’s one thing I can promise you, (Y/N), it’s that the next time I see that slimy bastard, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes,” Dean growled, holding his brother close.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but give a small smile, because, while the Winchesters weren’t good at comfort or expressing their griefs with one another, there was one thing that made them stand out amongst everyone else;

When they promised to kill something, nothing on God’s green Earth could get in their way.

102 notes · View notes

wannabepoeticischiya · 2 months ago

Text

It was the only way to have you again. Selfishly, even if it was only for a moment. Those words that never changed, a voice that never aged, you... that never saw another day.

ao3: voicemail pairing: gojo satoru x f! reader genre: angst wc: 1.9k status: one shot

"Hey, you reached the phone of (Y/n)! Please state your business after-- (Y/n)! Hurry!! Yeah! Just a minute! Sorry, you know what to do."

The familiar beep of her voicemail echoed in the middle of the quiet room.

"(Y/n)... How are you? I hope you're fine and yeah... how's Hawaii? You've been eating right? Stay healthy and I--"

"GOJŌ-SENSEI!!" Hasty footsteps thudded in the narrow corridor outside his room, evident noise of pushing and running made its way into his ears, similarly sounding like horses on a tight-matched race.

Gojō put the phone down and easily slipped on his blindfold, putting on his usually cheery attitude.

"HEYYA! DID YOU MISS YOUR EXTREMELY ATTRACTIVE SENSEI ALREADY?" He giggled like a highschool girl, throwing his iconic peace signs around.

"What? NO! Gross! Utahime-sensei wanted to see you!" Nobara countered as she struggled with holding back an overly nosy Yuji. "ITADORI! STOP PUSHING!"

"She also said that if you're not down there in five minutes she's gonna release all your embarrassing highschool pictures!" And with that, Nobara slid the door shut on Gojō's flushed face.

He opened the window and jumped.

The wind blowing at his puffy white hair. Nibbling ever so softly at his smooth skin, it ruffled his black uniforms as the breeze whispered melodies into his ear. Gray clouds blotted the early morning sky and cast shadows on his covered orbs, the faint light of the sun being a witness to that small genuine smile that decorated his face.

Yes, a typhoon was coming. And a hop over the window sill didn't really make him look like a cool superhero falling from a fifty-story building and landing perfectly on his two feet, in fact, he was located on the first floor. Which made him look a lot lamer.

Gojō took his sweet time making his way down the field, admiring everything that was surrounding him. Even if he wore hundreds of blindfolds, he would still be able to look at the world clearly. Although a little less colorful than usual but all that mattered was that he could see where he was going.

"SATORU! YOU'RE LATE!" Another reason why he walked a lot slower was just to annoy his old friend.

"Yes. Yes, hehehe... I'm not sorry!" He mock saluted, annoying the scarred female even more.

Although the two of them were previously schoolmates, both of them worked in different schools. Utahime teaches in Kyoto while Gojō stays in Tokyo. Despite the wide age gap between the two shamans, one can easily tell that the two were great friends even if they wouldn't admit it themselves.

"Just hurry up so we can cast the veil!" The shaman was really getting tired of Gojō's antics, it was getting old. "The typhoon is coming in!" She reasoned.

Satoru still had that irritating smile carved on his face. "Alright, alright... just let me make a phone call real quick, yeah?" The man didn't even wait for his comrade's response and immediately dialed someone's phone.

Utahime was left there, annoyed and frankly... losing it. She watched him impatiently as he held the phone beside his ear and tapped his foot repeatedly on the grassy ground.

"Hey, you reached the phone of (Y/n)! Please state your business after--" He cut the line off.

"OKAY! I guess she's busy for now!" Satoru's voice raised an octave higher and the smile he had on his face seemed to falter for a second before carving its way in again, twice as big.

"Satoru--"

"Let's set up that veil, shall we?"

The older woman sighed but got ready to set up the barrier. Utahime knew that something was up with the man, he was acting weird... he's always weird but today he's even weirder. She just didn't want to ask, afraid that she might be prying into something that shouldn't be meddled with and knowing Gojō... it's a very high chance that it's something personal and touchy. The last thing she wants on her plate is an emotionally unstable man-child going on a rampage because his girlfriend broke up with him or something.

Typhoons typically bring in a whole lot of curses. Due to people's fear of heavy rainfall, thunder and lightning... being alone in such a time. It brings out the unspoken emotions and longing that the majority of the population tries to bottle up.

Thunder echoed in the sky, sounding a lot like a bowling ball rolling down a lane, except that the lane was cracked and the bowling alley had no roof and everything was on fire.

Lightning flashed as the last bits of the curtains touched the ground. Don't want unwanted curses running around the campus in the midst of a storm. The last shaman who went off and tried to exorcise curses got hit by lightning and was out for days and he never got his brown hair back. It changed into a color that strongly resembled french fries and made him look like a walking bee. Heck! Even his eyes changed colors! That's why the school made sure to set up these kinds of things, especially now that the vessel of Sukuna resided here.

"I'm gonna go ahead and rest." Satoru yawned and quietly left a confused and slightly concerned Utahime. "See ya!" He yelled before turning the corner and disappearing.

Once she was sure that he was out of sight and earshot, she bolted to the infirmary. Passing by the three first years who looked confused and quite disturbed. "Utahime-sensei! Do you know what's going on with Gojō-sensei?" The three of them matched the speed of the woman as they blindly followed her to where she's heading.

"No, I'm quite perturbed myself. But I know someone who might."

She slid the infirmary door open, the first years lined up behind her like little ducklings following their mother.

"Whatever it is, it's a 'no' Gojō."

"SHOKO!"

Said woman looked up from the piles of paper she was dealing with and locked eyes on the peculiar sight. "What're you guys doing here?" She questioned, obviously sleep deprived.

"Do you know what's going on with Satoru?" The four of them walked into the medical room and sat on the perpendicularly aligned beds. "Gojō-sensei has been acting weird lately... when he walked past us earlier, he didn't greet us like he normally would." Yuji explained, a wondering look reflecting in his eyes. "Yeah, he just kept staring at his phone! Which was turned off by the way."

Shoko pondered on the thought, tapping her index finger on the wooden table. Her tired eyes stared at the bright lightbulb that gave the room luminosity.

"Do you remember someone called (Y/n), Utahime?" The doctor questioned, a reminiscent smile carving its way into her face.

"The curse moon user?" Megumi suggested.

Shoko snapped her fingers, "Yes. The curse moon user."

The tired doctor pulled something from the lowest cabinet, a school picture.

The majority of the people that were in the photograph were the sorcerers and staff that worked for the two schools and some were just very unfamiliar faces.

Nanami was there, situated between a messy-looking female and a smiling boy with black hair.

Utahime-sensei that didn't have a scar and an Ieri-sensei that didn't look sleep-deprived.

A Suguru Geto that wore clothes and that didn't make him look fat and didn't have the mark that made it look as if he got his brains removed and replaced.

And a younger Gojō-sensei that didn't wear anything to cover up his eyes; beside him was an annoyed girl that was super red in the face.

"Gojō sensei looked really whipped for that girl over there." Nobara pointed at the end of the picture where the two shamans were caught and photographed looking like they had their own little world.

"He was." Utahime implied, now remembering why Gojō was looking and acting really weird. "Her name was (Y/n) (L/n)." Every single person in the room could feel the faint scent of uneasiness that clouded the atmosphere.

"Go to bed, kids..." Utahime shooed away the curious students. "The storm is just about to enter Tokyo." The two teachers dismissed the disappointed first years. The children's footsteps slowly faded until the only sound that could be heard was the continuous rainfall outside.

"Does he still... you know..." Shoko held up her hand beside her ear and slightly shook it.

"Yeah..."

• • •

ーI never took pictures nor have I ever recorded any footage of her. Truthfully speaking, I never found the need to. Because I was certain and confident that I was strong enough to protect her and see her the next day. And that mindset became my downfall. I was so self-assured and relaxed that nothing was going to go wrong as long as I am alive, that she would be okay as long as she was near me. But the same person that swore to protect her was the same person that got her killed.

"I got this, stand back!"

The light blue-eyed second year pushed her back. His bloodied hair sticking out in all sorts of directions as his sweat and tears mixed with the blood dripping down from his temple.

"SATORU! ENOUGH!" A female shaman stood in front of Satoru, looking as beaten and bruised as he was. A deep gash ran from her left shoulder up until the base of her hand. Her right eye was decorated with a clean cut that stretched from the top of her eyebrow to the base of her lower lip.

"(Y/n)..."

The girl's determination was not enough to move the decision of her companion.

"You're literally bleeding, you look horrible and you smell!" She laughed and pushed him slightly, cringing as the arm that was almost falling off got pushed a little.

"C'mon... hide... before it comes back." She hinted at the large boulder that stood a few feet away from where they were currently positioned.

"What about you? You look just as beaten up as I am." He argued, not wanting to leave (Y/n) to fight the battle that they were supposed to fight together.

"I'm fine. I'll be right behind you, I promise." And she gestured once more to the hiding place that she wanted Satoru to head to.

ーI shouldn't have turned and looked.

Before he knew it...

"Domain Expansion: Blessing of the moon."

... she was gone.

It was as if everything was in slow motion; the blinding light that came from her cursed energy, the bloody waterfall of tears that decorated her incinerating face. And the faint smile that she gave the man she secretly loved.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, you reached the phone of (Y/n)! Please state your business after-- (Y/n)! Hurry!! Yeah! Just a minute! Sorry, you know what to do."

Gojō cringed at the sound of his own voice mixing with her voicemail. The moon shone on his tear-stained face, illuminating the pained expression that painted itself on his face whenever he heard her voice when he was alone. The howls and whispers of the wind silenced the cries that escaped the clutches of his throat as he settled the drained cellphone on his nightstand.

ーI keep paying her telephone bill because it was the only way I could hear her voice again. It was the only way to ease everything that was raging inside me. The only way that I could hold on to the person that I deeply cherish... it was the only thing I have left to remember her.

"Hey, you reached the phone of (Y/n)! Please state your business after--"

Thunder resonated in the sad and lonely room that caged Gojō. He hugged the pillow tightly, hoping and praying that somehow someway, it would magically hug him back. That (Y/n) would pull away from his embrace and smile at him again... but the cold and fluffy comforter said otherwise.

"I miss you... so much."

#ao3 #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru #gojo #fanfic #chiya's head rent 🎐

29 notes · View notes