#i have been feeling mentally better again and I felt good enough to watch another Blacklist episode tonight <33 it was so good

[allmyandroids]

The serotonin boost I get from seeing and of even only *thinking* about Raymond Reddington is positively crucial to my mental health and well being ✨️💖🥰

[kislnd]

silent treatment - george clarke~

synopsis: george leaves y/n wondering what their relationship is, a brief encounter between them gives him the chance to clarify.

notes: noticing i clearly love a cheeky fwb plot 😭 i promise i have other plots stored in the drafts (also the fact this was not the george fic i was talking about in my previous post loool expect that one eventually)

requests are also open!

warnings: slightly mature & angsty, mentions of alcohol

word count: ~2.9k

masterlist

y/n found herself mindlessly checking her notifications yet again. as expected, there was nothing new. stop it, pull yourself together, she mentally cursed herself - never in a million years did she think a man could have this effect on her. usually she was fairly good at moving on, independence had always been her thing, but this time it was definitely different and she didn't know why. quite frankly it was scary, although she did feel like this unexplored territory was equally exciting as it was terrifying. over the past week y/n had been unable to shake him from her mind, flashes of their time spent together plague her mind - the way his hands felt on her body, the look in his eyes before he kissed her, the way he tasted. memories like those couldn't simply go away, nor did she really want them to.

"you're just being pathetic now," she said aloud to herself, "and now you're talking to yourself like a crazy person." y/n knew she needed to get out and get her mind off him, which once again, she did think was a little pathetic - it's not like she was going through a break up or anything nearly as painful as she was making it out to be. she shook away her thoughts and pulled out her phone, this time ignoring all of her notifications, and any thoughts of george, and opened a group chat of her closest girlfriends.

is anyone down to come out for drinks tonight?

she hit send on the message and waited, realistically she knew her friends were always raring to come out so their replies wouldn't be anything she didn't already know. more often than not they were the ones to drag y/n out for some fresh air. sure enough after a few minutes most of them had replied with a series of excited agreements.

the evening came around quickly. luckily y/n had already raided her entire wardrobe earlier in the day in a bid to distract herself, so her outfit was ready along with the right shoes to match. she had even gone as far as scouring pinterest for a few makeup looks that would compliment the colours of her outfit.

//

living near the centre of london had both its pros and cons but right now, y/n was just thankful that her walk to the chosen bar was only very short. as she stood in front of the establishment nerves crept up inside her. what even was there to be nervous about? it was just another evening out with her friends, people she had known forever. moreover, she had been to this exact bar several times, hell she could probably even name the regulars at this point. "sorry, excuse me," a low voice came from behind her, causing her to jump to the side. "sorry," she mumbled, glancing at the man who appeared to be carrying far more cocktails than his hands could comfortably allow. the night was getting cooler now and she anticipated her friends were probably waiting for her inside and had been for some time, either that or they were watching the whole ordeal from the window and would laugh at her later. you'll feel better once you get inside, y/n told herself and with that, she turned and walked briskly to the entrance.

her friends were not hard to find, despite not even being drunk yet they managed to be some of the loudest people in the room. y/n smiled at the sounds of their chattering and squeezed through the hoards of people swarming the bar to reach their table and sat down with them. for the first time in a week, she finally felt at ease, like she could fully loosen up with no worries.

//

"can you get me another vodka coke please?" y/n's friend pleaded for the third time, drawing out the 'e'. "god you do whinge," y/n rolled her eyes playfully, "but i will, only if you promise to shut up." the group laughed, a little too hard - at that moment y/n could confirm she was the most sober there. however, it was out of self preservation. she knew in the morning everything would come flooding back to her and she didn't fancy wallowing in her own pity with a headache. the bar was quite empty, y/n thought, especially in comparison to how it had been earlier, but that was definitely because everyone else was too drunk to not be up dancing. she was honestly grateful there was a clear path towards a bartender who didn't appear to be serving anyone.

"hi, could i get a vodka coke please?" she asked the bartender, who she could now see was mopping up a puddle of what was probably various alcohols. "sure, just give me one sec." the bartender smiled and continued soaking the puddle up. "no problem," y/n shot him a warm smile and leant against the bar, watching intently. judging by the sheer volume of liquid she didn't anticipate 'one sec' would be anything remotely close to one second.

"excuse me mate," y/n was ripped from her thoughts by an uncomfortably familiar voice, one that she simultaneously craved hearing and never wanted to hear again. she snapped her head around to the opposite end of the bar, where she spotted him. george was stood, trying to get the attention of another bartender who was busy shelving some bottles. she wasn't sure if this was some kind of sick joke, the one person she was trying to get away from had somehow magically appeared in front of her. if there was a god, she was sure he was punishing her. naturally, her bartender was still busy with the puddle - a puddle that was barely even visible now. why he couldn't leave the droplets for a moment and serve her, y/n didn't understand. she couldn't wait to get away from the bar and he wouldn't be able to conjure the drink up in a split second. to be honest, she wasn't even sure she cared to return to her table with the drink.

y/n couldn't help but steal another glance at george. he was still just as attractive, if not more attractive than she remembered. the way his biceps flexed as he rested his arms on the edge of the bar, his perfect smile as he thanked the bartender for the drink... y/n knew she should tear her eyes away from him but she just couldn't do it. she was weak and not even sorry about it.

her eyes widened as she realised not only was george staring dead at her, he was also drawing closer to her. everything inside her was telling her to run away, run away from this man who didn't even have the decency to reply to her messages, run away from this man who gave her such mixed signals she didn't even know if he loved or hated her. yet her feet seemed unable to budge, the alarm bells ringing in her head were not enough to sway her heart.

"if your mouth opens any wider, you'll dislocate your jaw," george chuckles, placing his drink down at the bar. "that's hilarious," y/n says in the flattest, most sarcastic tone she could manage. "what?" george quirks an eyebrow at her in genuine confusion, standing up and moving closer to her. "i said-" y/n began but abruptly stopped as george placed his hands on her hips and guided her towards the door.

"what are you doing?" y/n swore her heart stopped, how could the same man that had been ghosting her be so comfortable with touching her like that? did he not feel any shame? in a matter of moments, a rush of cold air washed over y/n as george led her out of the threshold of the bar, and it wasn't unpleasant. "the music was too loud, i couldn't hear anything you were saying," he said, walking over to some seating and gesturing for her to join him. y/n followed him and took a seat opposite him but stayed silent, she wasn't sure she wanted to speak to him, nor did she even know what to say.

"what brings you to the bar?" george asks, trying to alleviate some of the awkwardness. he genuinely did want to talk to y/n but wasn't sure how or what to say to her, so settling on a generic question like that seemed to be his best bet. "avoiding you actually," y/n almost laughs at the situation, she was also very aware that inside the bar there would be a confused bartender likely with a vodka coke ready for absolutely no one to receive, "but it seems you just appear and disappear as you please." now it was george that stayed silent for a moment, "i deserved that."

"too right, now if you'll excuse me, i have a drink waiting for me inside," y/n stands up to leave, she was not in the mood for this conversation. if george could easily ignore her for days on end then her leaving one conversation for another day would be more than reasonable. "wait y/n-" george stands up quickly and grabs her arm, "can you please hear me out?" genuine hurt could be heard in his voice, for a second y/n thought about just jumping into his arms and telling him she forgave him. that thought was only fleeting though, she decided to retain her dignity and just listen to what he had to say instead. this is for me, not him, she affirmed in her mind before turning back towards him, "fine."

"this might sound really stupid," george starts, "but it's true and i can't believe i am even about to say it." y/n nods hesitantly, she wasn't sure how he could make himself seem any more stupid. "i guess i'm not used to feeling this way, like," he pauses, "properly in love." y/n was dumbfounded, she opened her mouth to speak but no words would dare come out. "i got scared and tried to hide. and in the process hurt you," george looks at her with sad eyes, pleading her to say something. "what you're saying is that you couldn't reply because you love me? like love love me?" y/n could no longer hide her shock, in fact she was beginning to question if this was even actually happening. "i guess so?" george scratches the back of his neck nervously, "look, i'm sorry. i didn't intend to ghost you, i just didn't want to scare you by coming off too strong." he moves closer and tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, "you're the first person i have been fully serious about." silence hung over them, y/n really did think for a second that she was going to pass out.

"i don't know if you are believing me," george sighs, defeated. "please say something." y/n tried to find her words, too much had just happened and she needed a moment to process it. the truth is she did believe him, she knew deep down all along that he was a good guy. "prove it." y/n says with a grin, "prove that you're as serious as you say you are." george raises an eyebrow at her sudden change of tone, "are you sure you can handle it?" a cocky smile forming on his face. "absolutely," y/n giggles, "do your worst."

without wasting another moment, george presses his lips to hers harshly. the kiss was hungry and desperate, like he had waited entirely too long to taste her again and he needed it. his tongue slips into her mouth, savouring every inch of it. this kiss was different, before they had been lustful, open mouthed, sloppy kisses - the kind that happened in the heat of the moment - but this kiss was so slow and so sensual and y/n could feel george pouring so much love into it that she felt it would be impossible to break apart from him.

george pulls away first to catch his breath. "is that enough proof?" he smirks, looking at her with blown out pupils, slightly swollen lips and pink dusting his cheeks. "i'm not sure, i might need a second one to confirm," y/n smiles cheekily, george rolls his eyes but bends down to lightly peck her on the lips. "there is more where that came from by the way," he laughs, "this just isn't the ideal setting."

"hopefully we can do this again sometime," she wiggles her eyebrows at him and laughs, "but we should really get inside, it's freezing," y/n ushers him back towards the entrance, "and i was supposed be back at my table with my friend's drink probably like half an hour ago." george's eyes widened, "oh god. she'll think you died en route or something!" truthfully, y/n was hardly worried about that, she knew her friends could be dramatic when they were drunk but she strongly doubted they were about to file a missing persons report or anything of the sort. "i'll just act naturally don't worry." she grins, "i'm good at that."

"yeah sure, really natural of you to spend an excessive amount of time staring at me from across the bar and then freeze up the second i moved towards you." george returns the grin, "seriously, i could literally feel your eyes boring into my skull."

"so dramatic, i did not stare that hard!" y/n gave him a light slap on the arm, she was in fact completely aware that that was exactly what happened, but she definitely didn't realise she had been that obvious. "whatever you say sweetheart," george opens the door for her and they step inside. y/n glances at the bar, the bartender hadn't made her drink but she hadn't expected him to, after all she had disappeared for a while. "stay right here, i'm going to order the drink again and go back to my friends for a bit." george simply nodded and took a seat at the bar once more, y/n opted to ask the other bartender for the drink this time (the one george had been talking to) - she thought it might be too awkward to ask the original one again.

drink in hand, she made her way back to their table, much more easily than when she first arrived. most people had begun to go outside to cool off so it wasn't nearly as packed in the booths where they were situated. "there you go." y/n pushed the drink towards the girl who had asked for it. "did you get lost on the way?" her friend giggles, slightly slurring her words. i'm sure she had a steady flow of drinks coming her way even without the one i ordered, y/n sighs, how was she going to explain this? it would've been even harder to explain her absence had she spent extra time outside mulling over what excuse to tell them but the lack of forethought also left her in a sticky situation. "you don't need to answer!" another of her friends grins almost evilly, "we can tell exactly what happened." y/n could feel her cheeks heating up, "what do you mean?" she answered, admittedly in a shakier voice than she was hoping for. without another word, the girl thrust her phone up at y/n's face with the camera open. "see?" she folded her arms and sat back in satisfaction.

"oh." y/n found that was the only word she was capable of uttering in that moment. her kiss with george had managed to smear her lip gloss and some of her lipstick around her lips in such a drastic way that it was painfully obvious what they had been doing. "for god's sake!" y/n quickly returned the phone and started in the direction of the bar where george, she assumed, would still be waiting for her.

"you didn't think to tell me about this?!" she hissed, gesturing broadly to her lips. george could only laugh, it had been only dimly lit outside of the bar so he wouldn't have been able to tell and y/n had taken off so abruptly with the drink that he hadn't even had a chance to fit a word in. "at least everyone knows now." george shrugs and gently holding her face and pressing the pad of his thumb over her lips, gently wiping away excess lip gloss (not much could be done about the coloured streaks of lipstick, at least not without a makeup wipe). y/n rolls her eyes, it was impossible to stay mad at him. "so much for twenty four hour ultra long wear lipstick," she grumbles. "shhh, i can't clean it up if you keep talking," george chuckles, giving her lips one final wipe, "there. all done."

"thank you," she smiles brightly, "i won't be buying this lipstick again that's for sure."

"you know," george pauses, "it would really be a shame if someone were to mess it up again,"

"save that for later!" y/n grins, giving him a kiss on the cheek instead before turning to go back to her friends. she could hear george protesting as she walked away, smiling to herself. this time she knew she would absolutely be hearing from him later.

[tragedybunny]

Sated - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion has gone too long without blood and you're determined to make sure he's fed.

Astarion tries, but not everyday is a good day, and some days he’s still snappish and lashes out. The rest of your group has learned not to take it personally, in fact now that Karlach can touch people, she’s developed a nice trick of just suddenly hugging him when he’s a pain. Usually either indignant silence or grumbling compliance follows. “Behave yourself Fangs, or I’ll do it again,” the Tiefling grins at him during whatever fussing he spouts after. He’s grown fond of her, you can tell, even if he can’t yet. In a way he’s fond of them all, but Karlach’s open, kind nature has given them a bit of a sibling-like bond. Watching them interact always brings a smile to you, he needs more of that in his life, people who care for him genuinely. 

Today was not the best, but you shrug it off as concern overrides all else. He’s a little paler than usual and a little slower. There wasn't much out there among the shadow curse for him to feed off. Before you never had to question how much blood he needed to survive or where it would come from. But as you leave the formerly cursed land behind, you can tell he’s struggling. And yet, he hasn’t asked you about it. The one he’s supposed to trust more than anyone else. You’ve fed him plenty of times before, you would think he’d have come to you by now. Mentally, you scold yourself as you feel creeping insecurity. There has to be a reason for it, and now isn’t the time for selfish suspicion. 

That night, as everyone settles themselves around a fire, contemplating what the road to Baldur's Gate holds, you find him seated at the edge of the flickering light, as far away as he can get without being in the shadows. Could he be worried he might find himself tempted if he’s too close to everyone? This can’t continue, you tell yourself, not only for the sake of his suffering, but you can’t be sure he wouldn’t be tempted either. 

Grabbing a blanket from your shared tent, you take a seat beside him, wrapping it around both of you. “You feeling alright Starry Sky?” Gently, you wrap an arm around him, and feel the icy chill of his skin beneath his shirt. Not that his skin is ever all that warm, but this another level. 

“Just tired,” he smiles weakly at you. 

“And freezing,” your other hand reaches up to stroke his cheek lightly. 

Eyes closed, he leans into your touch. “You know, I don’t even really feel it. I’m not sure if I need to be warm at all.” 

“Hmm, even if you can’t feel it, you know why you’re freezing.” Leaning over you whisper to him, some things aren’t meant to include the others. “You’re hungry.”

“Perhaps a little, but I’m fine. I don't need you to start fussing over me constantly. There's an owlbear cub if you feel overtly maternal." The sharp words don't change the dark circles under his eyes, or how gaunt his cheeks look. 

"You're ridiculously obstinate, you know that right," a gentle kiss on his temple follows your words, so he knows you're not actually being cross with him. You’ve come to realize he can’t stand it when he thinks you’re mad at him. In the past, anger meant reprisal, punishment, and in the context of the two of you, punishment could only mean withdrawing your affection. At least that’s where his thoughts lead.  

"It is one of my better qualities," he leans over, head resting against your chest. 

Shifting, you position yourself so he's seated between your legs, easier to let him rest his weight on you. "I don't know why you don't just ask me. My blood not good enough for your refined palate anymore?" Laughing, you try to mask the actual hurt that's creeping in. The truth is letting him feed from you has always felt like an important part of your relationship, the time when you’re closest to him.

It's been a long journey and a few of your group are already wandering to bed, although you think you hear Shadowheart muttering about saving it for the tent, whatever she said, Gale laughs it off. “Not at all,” he’s uncharacteristically serious, “I just…” he sighs, for once at a loss for words, “it seemed like a lot to ask from you, after everything else.” 

“Everything else?” Lips leave light kisses on the top of his head as you brush your fingers through his hair.

“You know, lying to you, manipulating you, wanting you to still love me after all that. If I asked to feed from you, it would seem like I was trying to use you again.” Catching one of your hands, he kisses it and doesn’t let go. 

For a moment you don’t know how to respond, you’re still not entirely used to seeing the softer, sincere side of him. “I see why you would think that, but I don’t want you to suffer. Let me take care of you, any way I can. That’s what I’m here for. Well, that and teaching you to be less of a stubborn arse it would seem.” 

“Stop, you’re being entirely too sweet to me. It’s going to ruin my reputation around camp.” You let him have his moment of deflection and wait until he makes a frustrated noise. “But I can’t say I don’t want to.” 

“Take what you need love,” you reach up to undo your collar and pull the blanket more securely around the two of you for privacy. A part of you considers moving to the tent, but you’re worried he’d use the opportunity to try to put it off more.

With a soft sigh, his lips press to your neck in a delicate kiss, teeth piercing your skin moments later. Pain and ecstasy course through you as you hold back a sigh. The two of you become one in that instant, bound through blood to the singular beating heart you now share, intimacy unparalleled. While he drinks, you fight to stay lucid enough to whisper to him of love and comfort, reassuring him that needing this from you is no sin. You feel your own warmth traveling into his skin, and you watch it take on a blush of life. 

Before your world turns hazy, he pulls away, licking you clean, and returning his head to your chest, content to be held tightly. "I didn't take too much, did I?"

"No, you were perfectly careful dearest." The words bring a small smile to his lips, praise so new an experience for him, he hardly knows how to handle it. But you know he craves it, especially from you, and it makes you want to lavish it on him. 

The others have vanished, a small part of you worries they noticed and were uncomfortable, but you hope they would understand as your friends. You two should join them soon, Baldur's Gate awaits, with a journey there still ahead. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

“A few more minutes love,” somehow he manages to snuggle tighter against you, “I did miss this.”

“Me too, don’t wait so long next time. I’m always here for you.” 

“There you go, being too nice to me again, silly girl.” Sitting up a bit he kisses you, fiercely, lips crashing together bruisingly, hands reaching to tangle in your hair, like a first and a last kiss all bound up in one and it leaves you gasping when he’s done. It’s as though he’s trying to express everything he feels in that one kiss. “I might get used to it if you’re not careful.” 

[junkissed]

after dark

member — boyfriend!jun x f reader genre — smut word count — 2k synopsis — jun and you agree to try something new, and you don't realize how much you enjoy it. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, somnophilia, but it is very explicitly consensual!!, unprotected sex, thigh riding, some praise bc jun is still a soft boy notes — requested by 💤 anon — this was so fun to write holy shit aksgdfj. lots of love to @onlymingyus and @duhnova for reading for me! header pic creds are to @/000scans. i hope you all enjoy! :)

when jun first brought up somnophilia to you, you didn’t think much of it. you definitely thought it was hot, but you didn’t see yourself as the kind of person who would do it often. you’d never been so horny you couldn’t fall asleep, and you’d never woken up in the middle of the night desperate enough to even consider it. 

that is, until tonight.

you’d been having such a good dream—such a hot dream—about jun, and his lips on your body had felt so real it had startled you awake, your cunt throbbing and your cheeks burning hot.

you glance over at your boyfriend, still perfectly sound asleep next to you. tiny snores leave his pretty lips, and suddenly you feel a wave of heat wash over you. the way his eyes are gently closed, lashes fluttering in his sleep and loose strands of hair falling across his eyebrows, drives you crazy. so soft and sweet, blissfully unaware of how you’re already soaking through your panties.

you hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not you should wake him up or go hide in the bathroom and finger yourself instead, not wanting to disturb him. 

but you remember the conversation you’d had a few days ago. he wanted this, he’d explicitly asked you to use him whenever you wanted, even if he was asleep; both of you had agreed to be available for each other’s pleasure any day or night, and now was a better opportunity than ever for it.

your eyes fall to his exposed chest, rising and falling with each small breath. he never sleeps with a shirt on when the weather warms up, and you’re mentally both cursing him and thanking him for it.

in the darkness you can just barely make out the lines of his collarbones and the shadows they cast across the grooves in his neck. your eyes trail down his chest to his nipples, already stiffened from the ceiling fan blowing cool air around the room.

before you can think twice you’re imagining all the times you’ve run your hands along his body, feeling the firmness of his chest beneath your fingertips and the softness of his skin, tracing the toned definition of his abs.

you want to reach out and touch him again, but you’re afraid you’ll wake him. but at the same time, you want him to wake up and find you so needy, rubbing your thighs together beneath the covers as you watch him sleep.

after another minute of painful staring you finally push the covers down below your waist, slowly scooting closer to jun’s sleeping body. when he doesn’t move, you carefully hoist your leg in between his, sinking down to straddle his thigh.

immediately you sigh in relief, grateful to finally feel something firm pressing against your aching cunt to relieve some of the pressure.

you stay still for a second, making sure he hasn’t woken up before you start to rock your hips back and forth. you can already feel your panties sticking to your folds, your wetness seeping out onto his boxer shorts.

you choke back a whimper, starting to grind down harder on his leg as you get more and more frantic. you’re struggling to stay quiet, so you lift your hand to stick two of your own fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite down on. your other hand grips at the sheets at jun’s side, trying so hard not to make noise but you can’t help the whines that escape you as you desperately ride his thigh.

suddenly you feel jun’s hips lift a little, chasing your movements and you squeak in surprise, fingers falling out of your mouth. your heart races as your gaze flies to his face to check if he’s awake; his eyes remain closed, but a small smile is beginning to form on his lips.

you feel his hands slowly slide up to your waist, holding onto your hips tightly to help guide you along his thigh.

“doing so good, baby,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep and so deep it sends shivers straight to your pussy.

“fuck– sorry, junnie, was t-trying not to wake you,” you stammer, and his grip tightens as he drags your hips faster and faster.

“don’t be sorry,” he purrs, eyes still closed. “making you feel so good, aren’t i?”

“yes, fuck—so good, more, please,” you moan in response, and he bends his knee, giving you a new angle to work with.

you push your hips down harder, the friction of his boxers and your panties rubbing against your clit at just the right angle to bring you right up to the edge.

you feel like your breathing stops when you finally stumble into your orgasm, mouth open with no sound coming out as your pussy gushes all over his leg. your hips stop but his hands keep going, pulling and pushing you along his thigh like he’s the one getting off instead of you, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life while both of you are still clothed.

finally he slows down and lets go of your hips, letting you fall forward onto his bare chest, your breath coming out in short pants. sweat drips down your neck from the exertion and your heartbeat pounds in your ears, but jun just lifts a tired hand to push your hair out of your face.

“so proud of you, baby, you did so good.”

you whine in embarrassment and hoist your legs off of him, but his words bring up butterflies in your stomach. it’s not long before your eyes become heavy and you fall asleep in his arms, thoroughly satisfied.

it’s not long after that night that jun wakes you up for the first time.

unconsciously you feel the room heat up, and as you come out of your sleep you begin to register the little gasps coming from above you. 

you stir, adjusting your head against the pillow before you pry your eyes open to see jun kneeling over you, chest heaving for breath and his hair slick with sweat.

“junnie?” you call out softly, still mostly asleep as you start to process what’s going on. you sit up on your elbows, and that’s when you notice the liquid on your stomach. 

you blink a couple times, glancing down to find yourself covered in jun’s cum, warm and sticky all over your lower half. you look back up at your boyfriend, a sleepy smile across your face.

he groans as he tucks his softening cock back into his underwear, leaning down to press his lips against yours gently. “you don’t know how fucking beautiful you look when you’re sleeping,” he sighs into your mouth. “gets me so fucking hard. just the sight of you, my pretty baby.”

you whine and lean back, falling into the sheets as he slides off the bed. you force yourself to stay awake until he returns a few moments later, a cool washcloth in his hand as he wipes his cum off of you.

once he’s done he tosses the cloth on the nightstand, slipping back into bed and rubbing his hand along your stomach as you let your eyes fall shut again.

he leans over to kiss your cheek. “thank you, darling. always so good for me,” he whispers, and you hum happily, quickly succumbing to sleep once more. you could really get used to this.

a week later you awake in the middle of the night to find jun grinding his cock on your leg, rutting his hips against you.

you pry your eyes open and turn your head to face him, placing your hand on his chest to get his attention.

“baby, please,” he rasps, his hands falling to your waist to pull you against him in rhythm with his thrusts. “‘m so close, need you so bad.”

you slide your hand down his body, stopping when you find his cock, throbbing and painfully hard against your thigh.

fighting through the sleepy haze in your mind you roll onto your side facing him and push your panties down your legs with a whine. “want you to fuck me, jun, please. use me.”

if you could’ve seen through the darkness you would’ve seen his eyes widen and his cheeks flush at your words, but you can only feel his hands prying your legs apart as he slides his cock between your folds. you can feel his fingertips holding you so tightly it’s likely they’ve left bruises, and you can feel the leaking head of his cock rocking against you.

he slips into you and you whimper, your half-asleep state making the feeling of his cock stretching you open both heightened and lessened. your brain short circuits when he finally sheathes himself fully inside of you, mouth hanging open as you struggle to put words together in your head.

even without all your senses you can tell he’s struggling to hold himself back from fucking you at the pace he wants, trying to give you a moment to get your bearings first. 

but you don’t care. you need him to fuck you, need to feel him release and know that you’re the one bringing him pleasure even when you’re doing nothing at all. even when you’re asleep, completely dead to the world, you’re still the only one that can get him off, and it makes your ego soar.

“jun, please, harder,” you moan, your voice already hoarse though you’ve barely said a word tonight. “need you to go harder.”

he groans and doesn’t respond, instead pulling out of you nearly all the way before slamming his cock into you, immediately setting a brutal pace. you can already feel that he’s close, and you clench around him with all your strength, trying to bring his orgasm closer.

he whines out your name, and you whine out his, both equally desperate to finish. with your body pressed against his front you can feel his abs expand and contract with each stroke, his muscles tightening as he builds himself up.

you’re not surprised that you’re already close to your own orgasm; just how he gets off at the thought of you, the thought of him is enough to make you cum in seconds and leave you breathless.

without warning your orgasm washes over you, your whole body trembling in his arms as his hips falter and he struggles to keep up his pace with an airy moan. 

he squeezes his eyes shut, continuing to fuck you through your high until you’ve regained enough of your senses. he thrusts into you a few more times until he pulls out at the last possible second, his cum exploding onto your hips and thighs as he jerks his fist up and down along his cock to make sure he’s released every last drop.

he leans over you, still reeling from your orgasm, and kisses your temple like he always does when you’re finished.

as much as he doesn’t want to leave your side he knows you probably (definitely) won’t want to wake up covered in his dried cum, so reluctantly he rolls off the bed to find a washcloth.

but when he returns you’re already sound asleep again, your powerful orgasm sending you back to dreamland just as fast as he’d pulled you out of it. wordlessly he cleans you up, making sure to get every crevice that you might complain about later and trying not to giggle out loud when he looks up to see you drooling on your pillow.

back under the covers he wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your cheek and resisting the urge to kiss you all over. he’d much rather save those for a time when you’re awake to enjoy them.

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[dreamingumbrellas]

why tua s1 is a masterpiece and 2-4 give me a migraine

i gotta use my english degree for something so lets talk about it

i’d like to note beforehand, that i’ve only seen about half of season 4. but given everything i’ve heard about it, i’ve decided to avoid watching it for my own mental wellbeing. i really haven’t enjoyed the last three seasons much, mostly i’ve been dredging through because of how much i love season 1. it feels painfully like seasons 1 and seasons 2-4 are for completely different fucking shows–particularly in tone.

i think tua season 1 attracted attention to its unique themes that are lost in the rest of the series. the primary themes are of trauma and dysfunctional family dynamics. it’s a story about seven severely abused siblings learning to cope with their trauma and reconnect as adults. season 1’s tone is somber. it shows us glimpses of the characters’ childhoods, and how it affects them in their adult lives. the characters in season 1 were, most importantly, flawed! they were assholes, because trauma turns people into assholes sometimes! 

you can directly trace back the siblings’ character flaws to the shit reggie put them through. Luther was the golden boy, which put too much responsibility on his shoulders and isolated him from his siblings. As a result, Luther is ultra-loyal to his dead father, in obvious denial of the abuse he endured because he was never able to form an identity for himself outside of reggie and the academy! he is the only one that never moved on. and then reggie turned luther into (for lack of a better term) a giant monkey without his consent, causing him to hate himself and even further alienate himself from the rest of the world. 

diego never left the ‘number 2’ headspace. he fights with luther even into adulthood. despite how much he claims to hate his father, he became a vigilante likely as an effort to finally be good enough for his dad. and lets not forget (unlike the writers) about his stutter–something that formed in childhood and came back as an adult when he was triggered with memories of his childhood. he’s inherently defensive because reginald pit the siblings against one another constantly.

allison is a narcissist–though, when we meet her in season 1, she’s more of a narcissist in recovery. she’s recognized how her childhood affected her and wants to become a better person to make up for the mistakes of her past. what mistakes again? well, she used her powers on her daughter because 1. she was never told no. reggie encouraged the usage of her powers, and the household where she grew up was violent, manipulative, and competitive. she had no sense of real normalcy, so she never learned how to build a happy, healthy family for her daughter. to cope with her trauma, she clung to her fame–this is shown both in adulthood and childhood flashbacks–leading her to become a movie star, and not accept her own faults.

klaus, well, klaus is the most obvious example of trauma. mostly due to reggie forcing his powers on him when he was a young childhood. locking him in a mausoleum for hours on end. he became a drug addict as a result. living on the streets, in and out of rehab, and stealing for money. we see him struggle constantly throughout season 1–through his interactions with ghosts (when its very possible he wouldn’t have developed such a fear of them if it weren’t for reggie), with flashbacks to his childhood and (later) to the vietnam war. his inability to take things seriously and his self-destructive behavior are both coping mechanisms. his siblings don’t trust him because of his lying and kleptomaniac tendencies.

five is a character whose development is utterly abandoned after season 1. he was only thirteen years old when he accidentally travelled in time to the apocalypse, where he remained for 45 years. i remind you of this because the writers won’t. he survived those years for his family! because he felt immeasurable guilt for leaving them! he was so lonely for these years that he developed a romantic attachment to a mannequin (something only referenced for a joke in later seasons). he was in an extremely vulnerable position when he was recruited by the handler (a character who was very creepy in her own right) and he was forced to use his childhood ‘superhero’ skillset to essentially become an assassin, a job he loathed himself for. all so he could have a chance to save his family. five is cocky, sarcastic, and yes, wants to save the world, but we forget that he wanted to save his family first. he was willing to sacrifice the world if it meant saving his siblings. and even once he returns to the present, he experiences ptsd flashbacks to his time in the apocalypse. five is severely traumatized and stuck between childhood and adulthood, has lived for far too long and has done too many terrible things to be a child, but is stuck in a childs body and never got the chance to emotionally mature past the age of 13. this in no way resembles the five we get in later seasons.

in season 1, ben is a tragedy. he is the character that haunts the narrative (literally). his death was the reason the family split up. he experienced an incredibly traumatic childhood, forced to slaughter people against his will. all so that he could die tragically young (we’ll get into his cause of death later). he’s stuck following klaus around for years, unable to interact with anyone else. he watched his brother deteriorate in front of him with no way to help. he’s angry about his death and sometimes takes out his frustrations on klaus. but at the same time, he was ‘the kindest’ of all the siblings. he cares deeply about his family, but can’t do anything about it.

i think it’s easy to forget that the initial focus of the show was viktor. viktor, who was told how unremarkable he was again and again. who was isolated not just from the world but from his own family as well. who was drugged up from an incredibly young age and forced to ignore his emotions. yes, the umbrella academy was abusive. but being isolated from his siblings was just another form of abuse. he grew up to resent his family on a lot of levels, writing his book as a method to vent his frustrations but only ended up in driving his siblings further away. viktor went through a lot of shit in season 1, and resulted in him ending the world. but did his family kill him? no. because that was the point of the entire show. that despite their trauma and how much they might resent one another, the siblings still loved each other more than the rest of the world put together. 

everything ive outlined are the elements that make up season 1, and are almost entirely forgotten about later. but by losing the integrity of the characters, they lost the narrative. the point of the umbrella academy was never saving the world–it was about a broken family reconciling with one another despite everything. these points of trauma are taken seriously. it was the complexity of these characters, at least in my opinion, that attracted attention towards them. and sure, we didn’t love every character all the time. remember how much luther was hated in season 1? but it’s because he was realistic. these characters, and the shit they went through, weren’t a joke. and the season ended off in a way that forshadowed these elements being explored more in depth. remember how it ended?

with the seven siblings holding hands as the world exploded around them. and for only a few seconds, we saw them transform back into their child selves.

now, this plot point (whatever it might have been) was instantly cancelled and forgotten about in season 2. but it really makes you think about the season we could have gotten: the characters being forced back into their childhood, having to confront the root of their trauma and essentially, all their problems. they could look back at what happened to them with a mature perspective and worked through it, realizing that they were not each other’s enemies. they could have made up for lost time, helped eachother heal, and ultimately prevent the apocalpyse by being family. you know, something that would have actually wrapped up the narrative nicely.

so, what happened?

the shows original themes of trauma, and repentance, and family were abandoned in favor of humor and spectacle. it seems like the creators misinterpreted what made the first season so successful. sure, the first season had a lot of funny moments and great fight scenes. but it was the emotional depth and complexity that made the show what it was. but worse than that, it continued to spit in the faces of the characters trauma, downplaying it in almost every way possible.

klaus’ relapses were played for comedy. his fear of ghosts was drastically downplayed with the use of cartoonish ghost-buster ass looking ghosts. five’s ptsd was never acknowledged again; his coping mechanism, dolores, became a joke. luther lost all character complexity entirely, instead becoming a himbo (who we love, but, still). viktor rarely brought up the feelings from his childhood, and nobody acknowledged his tell-all book again.

one of the things that infuriated me the most was the incorporation of reginald in later seasons. lets remind ourselves of some things: he purchased seven children, treated them like objects without names, trained them tirelessly and deprived them of a childhood, traumatized them by turning them into murderers, pitted them against one another, and literally tortured them. and that’s only the things we see him do on screen. you cannot convince me for a second that any of the siblings would ever be able to be the same room as that man without having serious flashbacks. I don’t believe for one second that they’d work with him, trust him, or empathize with him in any capacity (except maybe luther) except they do, consistently. even five, who is easily the smartest member of the academy, and extremely protective of his siblings.

and- LEST WE FUCKING DISREGARD- reginald MURDERED ben.

the moment that happened on screen felt like the last shovel of dirt on tua 1’s grave. supposedly all the siblings REMEMBERED this incident in seasons 1-3. and yet they went to their fathers funeral, spoke to him (relatively) civilly, and teamed up with him after seeing for themselves their father shoot their brother in the back of the head for seemingly no reason. not only did they apparently not hold this against their father, but they never mentioned it once in three seasons.

and yes, i know, there is a very simple reason for this. it was obviously made up at the last moment for plot convenience. but the implications for this being retconned in are damning for the characters. by writing this in, the writers decided that the siblings commitment to one another is meaningless. that the foundations upon which this show was created, are fucking meaningless. they threw away not only the individual complexity of each character, but also their relationship as a family.

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 7)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

When you returned to Arrow House unwillingly,  the mansion that was once a symbol of love and safety never felt so cold and lonely. Thomas' eyes, cold as ever, drilled into yours as he greeted you with a deep look without uttering a word. He didn't have to. His message was loud and clear: he always had the upper hand.

You tried to suppress the shiver running down your spine as you glimpsed at the stern expression on his face, realizing that your hope for escape had been nothing more than a fleeting dream. The weight of your current situation bore down on you heavily, forcing reality to settle in.

"Come inside and have something to eat. You must be hungry, Love," he then said , making an attempt to act on his usually endearing nature. Even after all that had transpired, his voice carried a warmness that somehow made you forget about the contents in the lockbox, if only for a moment.

But you knew better. You knew that beneath the facade of charm and wit lay a man whose intentions were far from romantic or kind.

"I am not hungry ," you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas frowned at your response as he lead you inside and helped you to take off your coat before handing it to one of the maids, which is also when you noticed several more men inside the house : some familiar, others not so much.

"Suit yourself ," Thomas said as he escorted you to the dining room, leaving your words to hang in the air. His sudden shift in demeanor was enough to make you feel uneasy and confused. You made a mental note to keep your guard up and be careful about what you shared with him.

"I am sorry," you stammered nervously as he pulled out a chair for you at the dining table while the men who were in the house earlier scurried away as your husband and you sat down to eat, giving you a feeling of being constantly watched. 

"For what, exactly, are you sorry for, Love?"  Thomas asked as he sat down opposite you, the distance between you and him feeling wider than ever before. You swallowed hard, desperately trying to find the right words to explain.

"For leaving, of course," you said after a moment of silence, your voice shaky. "I shouldn't have done it without telling you first." 

Thomas regarded you for a long moment, his face unreadable.

"It's in the past now Y/N and I trust that you won't leave like this again, eh?"  Thomas said, his voice low and gravelly as he leaned forward, his intense blue eyes locked onto yours.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at the menacing tone in his voice. But you knew better than to argue with him, especially after what had been revealed to you in the past two days. Thomas Shelby was not a man to be trifled with and you knew that you would have to tread lightly if you wanted to stay on his good side.

"Of course not, Thomas. I promise," you murmured quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Good ," Thomas replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm glad we understand each other."

But despite his seemingly kind words, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. You knew that Thomas was capable of anything, and you couldn't help but wonder if this whole situation was just another one of his twisted games.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur as you forced yourself to eat and make small talk with Thomas. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

You felt like you were living in a nightmare, unable to wake up and escape the twisted reality that had become your life.

Thomas Shelby, the man you loved and trusted, had turned out to be someone entirely different from who you thought he was. He was manipulative, controlling, and dangerous. 

"I am really exhausted Tommy, I might just head to bed," you muttered softly after a few hours of having forced yourself to keep him company. As you looked up at Thomas, your voice was trembling slightly, and you tried to hide the fear that was steadily building up inside of you.

Thomas's eyes softened as he looked back at you and for a moment, he seemed almost human.

"Alright Love. I will join you shortly, eh," he said, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You forced a similarly weak smile and nodded as you stood up from your chair, excusing yourself and making your way up the grand staircase to the sleeping quarters.

Once inside your bedroom, you hastily closed the door behind you, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. You took a deep breath, leaning against the heavy wooden door, trying to calm your beating heart.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to give in to the fear and sadness that had taken over your heart.

With a shiver, you walked to the large mirror in your room, studying your reflection. Your long hair was disheveled from the long train ride and your big eyes looked tired and anxious.

You dreaded the moment at which your husband would join you tonight, just like every other night, knowing that his needs had to be satisfied.

Saying no to him now after what you did was not something you could afford , even though the thought of him touching you made your skin crawl. You couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust towards yourself, for allowing things to go this far.

You had always enjoyed the intimacy between you, feeling attracted to him, but now it had become something else entirely. It was as if you were living with a stranger, someone who held all the power and control over you and you hated the thought of him seeking to be intimate with you. 

Eventually, after contemplating your options for a while on how to get out of sleeping with your husband, you went to bed, realizing that you had none. You lay there, stiff as a board, your mind racing with thoughts of escape and freedom that seemed like impossibilities now.

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable and, soon enough, the door opened with a creak. Thomas stepped inside quietly as you pretended to be asleep, wondering if your charade would be successful. You heard his footsteps as he moved closer and closer to the bed before stopping short next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.

You could feel him strip down to his clothes, the bed shifting slightly under his weight as he climbed in beside you without making any attempt to initiate anything.  

Minutes passed and still, you felt nothing but cold sheets and an even colder presence beside you but, just as you thought that you could actually go to sleep, your breath hitched as a hand slid across your waist, tracing the curve of your hip before settling on your thigh.

Tommy moved closer towards you and his touch sent a shiver down your spine, causing you to freeze. 

As if sensing your distress, he whispered in your ear, "I know you are awake, Love . Let's not play games, eh?" he told, his hand sneaking up to slide under your nightgown, gently caressing your smooth skin. You could feel him harden against your backside, his desire for you palpable. As much as the thought of being close to him made you uncomfortable now, you knew better than to protest.

Your mind raced, searching for a way to escape this situation, but all your thoughts were pushed aside as his hand moved beneath your panties.

"Relax, Love. You're so tense," he murmured in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You could feel his body press up against yours, his erection now obvious. "I won't hurt you, eh? I would never fucking hurt you," Tommy told you as he circled over your clit. 

Feeling helpless and defeated, you let out a sigh and allowed your body to soften slightly. You didn't want to admit it, but his touch did sent a shiver of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help but moan as, without warning, he slipped a finger inside of you.

"That's it , Love," he whispered in your ear, his hips rocking against your ass as he began to move his finger in and out of you at a steady pace before wasting no more time and withdrawing it from your slick folds.

You laid there quietly, trying not to make a noise as he pushed down your panties, completely exposing you. You felt vulnerable and exposed. His hand came down to squeeze your ass roughly, before moving to your pussy once more, parting your lips with his fingers and rubbing your clit in slow circles.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned as he continued to stroke your clit. Despite the fact that you were still uncomfortable with the situation, it was impossible to deny the pleasure building inside of you.

Soon you felt the head of his cock brush against your entrance and then he slowly pushed inside of you, filling you up completely.

Tommy let out a deep moan as he buried himself to the hilt within you, pausing for a moment before pulling out almost completely and then thrusting back in with more force, making you gasp as he did so.

He continued to fuck you roughly, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful stroke, his breath hot and heavy against your shoulder blade as he leaned in close.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N," Thomas murmured in your ear as he continued to pound into you from behind. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you back onto his cock with each thrust.

You stifled a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction  of knowing how good it felt. But as he sped up, you couldn't help but let out a small cry of pleasure.

"That's it, Love," Thomas groaned, "You are mine. My fucking property."  Thomas's voice was ragged and deep, sending shivers down your spine as he thrust into you from behind. 

"Say it!" he demanded gruffly, his fingers digging into your hips as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless pace. "Say you're mine!"

His command was met with a soft whimper, your mind reeling from the force of pleasure coursing through your body. You tried to resist, but it was no use - Thomas had you pinned down and at his mercy.

"I'm yours!" you cried out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them as you came, hard and fast, crying out loudly in pleasure. 

Thomas let out a low growl of satisfaction as you finally conceded to his demands.

"That's right, Love. You are mine," he said, his voice dripping with lust as he continued to piston in and out of you. His fingers gripped your hips tighter, pulling you back onto his cock with every punishing thrust until, suddenly, and unexpectedly, he stilled, groaning loudly. 

"No, stop," you gasped as you tried to wiggle away from him, realizing what was happening, but it was too late . He was already filling you up with his release, his movements slowing as he rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through him.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hot breath panting against your neck and his seed pouring into you as he filled you up to the brim.

Your body was still spasming from your own orgasm, responding to his touch even though your mind was screaming in protest. You couldn't help but think about how much you wanted to push him away and wipe him off of you, but your muscles were still trembling from the force of your release.

As Thomas slowly pulled out of you, you turned over onto your back and looked up at him with a mixture of anger and disgust.

"You came inside me," you spat out, wiping his essence away from your thigh as if it was of any use now.

"I did," he replied nonchalantly, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Because you are my fucking wife after all," he added as he leaned down, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. You couldn't help but recoil at his touch, the thought of his seed now inside of you making your skin crawl.

He knew that you were not ready to become a mother , but it seemed like he didn't care. You wanted to shout at him, to scream and hit him for his actions, but you held back and simply turned around , climbing out of the bed with a grimace.

You hurried to the bathroom, needing a moment to gather yourself together and trying to wash away the lingering feelings of disgust you felt towards Thomas and his actions - but more importantly, towards yourself for allowing it to happen again and again.

As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, tears started running down your cheeks again, but this time, they were not from fear or despair- they were angry tears. Angry at the situation you had been placed into, angry at yourself for being too weak to stand up against it. Angry tears for the fact that, despite all of this, you somehow craved him. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I'm a little biased as always when it comes to those two but this was one of my best fics imo, look at their happy faces. They're so precious! I love them sm ipjwiojweoijg. There's probably some typos but I'm super busy with uni stuff + can't find the time now to proofread and this has been on my drafts for a while now, so I'm posting how it is. Tagging u bcs u asked, I hope u like this silly fic! @hanafubukki

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Not necessarily a warning but there's some suggestiveness at the start.

"Today I'm going to steal Rook's hat!" Those were your exact words.

You said this at six o'clock in the morning, the sun still creeping across the sky to brighten everyone and everything another day, after having entered through the open window of Vil's room like a gremlin - how you did it he had no idea considering his room was on the top floor of Pomefiore.

And in that moment, when you gush about how smooth and soft Rook's hat felt to the touch, and how you would play with the feather and laugh at the surprised expression on Rook's face, Vil wanted nothing more than to turn to the other side of the bed and go back to sleep.

You threw yourself into the vacant space next to Vil, swinging your legs happily as you asked for your beloved's help. Your little puppy eyes making his heart clench and twist inside his chest, like it always did when you used that same trick time and time again.

Breathe, exhale. He remembered. He couldn't give in to your whims again, he remembered well what happened last time.

You invited yourself even closer to him, ignoring your personal distance to cup his face in your hands, fingers massaging the silky skin as you looked up at him. "Please, Mein Lieber."

For a long second, Vil wondered how he could love two persons as chaotic as you and Rook. You two were practically the same and more times than you should you followed the hunter around, imitating his mannerisms and making him laugh like that because you think it was funny. You liked imitating him and Rook loved to have you around, taking you to people watch while you both stated your observations on each person.

This and Rook liked to teach you the hunter ways. So far, you haven't killed anyone with your bad bow skills.

"Du bist die Liebe meiines Lebeéns." You whispered against his ear, consonants and vowels completely exaggerated and some pronounced wrong. And he ignored you, rolling his eyes, accustomed to your antics by now.

One of the different things between you and Rook is that the Chasseur D'amour would use flattery and his good observation to get what he wanted, you instead always chose to irritate people (mainly Vil) with your terrible German speech. Was it your only weapon or was it just because Vil couldn't bear such torture?

He preferred not to know.

You then changed tactics, preferring to fill his face with slow kisses but always avoiding the place he wanted you to kiss him. His temples, his cheeks, his nose, his chin, every bit of skin your lips touched made him feel dizzy. Vil could mentally hear Rook's whines if he were there, ignored, Rook was always so needy for his and yours attention.

His rough, chipped lips slowly descending though the queen's neck while his hands free from his gloves gently navigated Vil's sides and hips. He trembled in your arms.

"That's enough!" Vil looked at you, panting. He held you before you could kiss his eyebrows too. "I'll help you, but you better come here right now and kiss me. On the lips, darling."

You didn't need to hear it twice. The kiss began softly, a needy dance of emotions. But he wanted more, needed more until he was truly satisfied with it. You had woken him up too early, had disturbed him and irritated him. He needed this to restore his good mood.

He needed you like you needed him.

Time seemed to slow down as you met again for a kiss, and another, and another, and hundreds of others, leaving only a sweet freshness behind. That was how he described all the kisses he shared with you, all of them precious.

Vil felt you smiling through the kiss, he could feel the aura of victory and presumption that exuded from you. He bit your bottom lip hard to keep your attention on him, making you whine.

"However, the execution of this plan of yours will depend entirely on you, Liebling. I don't need to remind you that Rook is a great observer and will instantly know you’re up to something if you act differently.”

You nodded as if you were confident that your other lover wouldn't be able to notice anything. Or at least, that he didn't realize it until it was too late.

Later, after you had kissed Vil until he was beaming and satisfied, and his lips were softly swollen, you found yourself sitting on a high branch of a tree, hidden from view and engulfed by green leaves. Waiting for the right moment, watching your target.

You forced your eyes to follow every movement of your vulnerable prey, the one who was sitting a few meters away from you, resting in his usual spot and polishing his bow.

As promised, Vil was talking to Rook about a subject you didn't know what it was. His expression carried the usual serious air but it was accompanied by a calm smile. Rook had that effect on him. And in you too, as if he always knew what you needed to hear to smile, to laugh and to cry.

Yuu notices the way Rook tilts his head to better hear what Vil is saying and how Vil laughs at Rook's jokes. A few seconds go by, you very slowly starts to climb down from your hiding spot, at this point you didn't even need to think anymore, your hands knew where to hold and how to search. It was like second nature.

Finally on the ground again, you do your best to mingle with the tall trees and huge bushes. You can still make out Rook and Vil's figures, the hunter stood up, showing Vil his bow and arrows, and he demonstrated the correct way to hold it.

It occurred to you that maybe Vil was talking about some role he would need to play as an archer and you had to admit that captured Rook's attention perfectly. He was so excited while he explained this and that to his lover, you almost wished to forget your little plan and come closer to listen to him. When he goes on a rant, his beautiful green eyes lighten up while he explain and demonstrates, even more when he can answer some doubts.

'Focus, soldier', you thought to yourself.

The hunter handed his bow to the queen, placing his hands over Vil's and explaining how Vil should shoot to hit the target. And Vil did perfectly. As Vil gracefully executed the instructions, Rook's admiration was evident by his big smile.

As Vil's aim improved under Rook's guidance, you edged closer, careful not to disturb the serene moment. Careful to remember every little detail. You could feel the tension building within you, anticipation mingling with determination. As Vil hitted the target, Rook engulfed him in a warm and long hug, swaying side to side as if they were doing a little comemmoration dance.

This was the moment you had been waiting for, as Rook kept praising Vil, you were getting closer, silent, deadly, your hands strecthed to grab your prize. sensed the perfect opportunity to strike. Timing was crucial, very important for you mission, and you waited a little more, watching them.

His hat was so close now... The sun shone into it, making it looks so comfy. You almost wanted to rush, to grab and run but you waited just a little more.

Vil handed back the bow, still smiling. You could tell it was genuine, he was proud of himself to be able to hit the target even if he wouldn't use this knowledge anywhere. More than this, as he put a stray hair behind his ear, Rook stood on his tiptoes to give his queen a kiss as reward.

And was then that you emerged from your hiding place, your presence initially unnoticed amidst the rustling leaves. Before either could react, you grabbed his hat and ran as if your life depended on it. It was so much beautiful, so soft and comfy, you putted on your head, the last thing you saw was Rook's shocked but proud eyes staring at you.

You had accomplished your mission, feeling very proud of yourself. But now it was time to proceed with the next phase of your plan; run away from Rook.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ok so, before the indigo disk released I heard there was going to be people with competitive movesets, so before it released I literally made myself an entire competitive team. IM A CASUAL PLAYER 😭😭 and I just think it’d be really funny that carmine and kieran would probably think i’m just gonna stroll up with my usual team but nope swords dance + scale shot 💃 if you could write their reactions to the new squad I just think it’d be funny lmao

(If you want the team I made for reference, it was koraidon, ogerpon, chien-pao, blood moon ursaluna, armarouge, and a shiny slither wing because I felt like having a shiny so I hunted one lol)

- 🪑🥚

Bro I went into the Indigo Disk 100% blind so you can imagine my shock when I realized double battles were gonna be everywhere </3

I mostly had a "fuck it we ball" mentality going through it (which made some battles go on for WAY too long), but later I taught my Ceruledge Poltergeist when I realized almost every NPC in the dlc uses held items.

Funny enough Ogerpon (with Spiky Shield) and BM Ursaluna were on my team. He was an absolute TANK with the assault vest and he knocked out Hydrapple with a Moonblast

Anyways enough rambling and onto the request!

......

Kieran

He was expecting your usual team when you started challenging the BB Elite Four, rolling his eyes at the thought of you trying to use the same old tactics to defeat him.

But he's changed. He's gotten stronger and wanted you to be surprised by what he can do now.

Instead, though, when you arrive to the championship battle...not only did you bring out Ogerpon with her teal mask to (supposedly) insult him, but you also had Chien-Pao, which may spell trouble for his Dragonite.

He'll admit, you were clever to bring a Pokémon who could lower the defense of all the others and cut their HP in half with Ruination..but he doesn't give up yet.

Seeing a shiny that looked like a Volcarona but fluffier was certainly bewildering--as is the Bloodmoon Ursaluna you managed to tame back in Kitakami and the Armarouge who sets up a Psychic Terrain to boost its Expanding Force, allowing it to hit two of his Pokémon at once.

Oh, and apparently you have not one but TWO Koraidons, with the one you brought into battle being more brash and a fierce fighter in its Apex build.

You set that one up with a Swords Dance + Scale Shot combo that absolutely kicks ass, somehow striking your opponents 4-5 times whenever you command it.

Kieran's certainly gotten smarter about his team, but so have you, and he's livid about it.

It was like you enjoyed knocking him down over and over again...yet he can't hear the reluctance in your voice as you utter the final move that finishes off his Hydrapple.

You knew you had to win. He needed to be humbled.

But it didn't feel good at all as you watched him crumble and Drayton rub his loss in his face.

Carmine

When you battled her, she (like her brother) expected to see some familiar faces on your team.

Yet you surprised her (in a good way, very much unlike her brother) with Ogerpon, and she smiles and asks if she missed her, with the legendary responding with a small hop and a happy trill....

Followed by a devastating Ivy Cudgel that lands a critical hit on her Pokémon.

Yeah, she can definitely tell you've been training the Ogre a lot, but she's proud of how confident she's grown nevertheless.

Seeing you have both Chien-Pao and another Koraidon working in tandem is impressive, especially with that Ruination + Swords Dance + Scale Shot combo you pulled.

BM Ursaluna and Shiny Slither Wing are the only two that genuinely shock Carmine, as she's only seen one in myths and the other....she's never seen in her entire life.

But after the trip to Area Zero, she understands Slither Wings better (although she's amazed you managed to find a shiny down there).

Either way, those two are powerhouses.

She remembered you talking about a little lonely Charcadet you found during an outbreak, and to see it has grown up into a mighty Armarouge was such a sweet thing to see.

You clearly took the time to plan out your team before coming to the Blueberry Academy.

Carmine found your battle to be fun.

Although she can't exactly say Kieran will feel the same way..considering Ogerpon is with you and you have some new tricks up your sleeve.

But she figured he oughta find that out for himself.

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 11: Right Beside You

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: Jungkook has you to thank, if only he knew how.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 5.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, past trauma (mentioned assault and torture), mentioned homelessness

a/n: the found family is strong with this one😌🥰 hi everyone, thank you for joining me for this next part of the journey! sorry for being super offline this week, it's been an exhausting one and I'm still a bit mentally checked out as I write this note, but all of the positive comments have been lovely to see🥰special note for the anon who wanted a sneak peek, I just couldn't find a good spot to post for this chapter and didn't have the energy to comb through for one either. I'll consider for future parts when I have more time to do so, but in the meantime I would love just to hear what you enjoyed so far💞enjoy the chapter!

Jungkook didn’t speak to you about that night. Barely even looked your way the next morning when you slunk in to have breakfast.

It was entirely unfair that he was there bright and early, looking completely put-together in that handsome way he always did – or maybe it was one of the perks of having a face like his. A lucky side effect of his stubbornly ignoring you was that he didn’t seem to notice, certainly not acknowledge, your envious staring at him, before you were able to catch yourself and rid your mind of these thoughts.

You, however, had only gone back upstairs when you felt your eyes drooping again, long after Jungkook had disappeared. Even then, it was to fitful sleep. All the midnight epiphanies in the world weren’t about to make you forget your guilt over Hoseok.

So now, it was safe to say you were tired.

Hunching over a plate, you said little, but at least tried to smile at Hope, who caught your gaze. Yoongi eyed between the two of you, and you shrank again, unable to stand the thought he was also wary of you. Maybe Jungkook was just the most open about it.

You wondered over your toast whether Jungkook had a similar reason for being awake last night. Whether he knew yours.

Did he realise that you had been up because of your guilt-ridden nightmares? Would that make him feel better, to know you were being punished for your actions by your own psyche?

You hadn’t thought to question his own presence in the training room at night until now, though. Not that it was a particularly pleasant train of thought. Did he have nightmares of his own? Worse still, were they the same as yours? Had your near miss caused him the same fear it had you, enough to invade his sleep?

At the end of the table, Jungkook spoke in a low voice to Jin. There was no chance for you to guess what they were talking about.

Yet you were still watching. You couldn’t look away, almost wondering if you could see inside his head if you looked hard enough. Puzzle him out.

A scraping sound and movement beneath your hand jerked your attention away.

Your eyes darted to your plate – or where it had been. They followed as it dragged itself swiftly across the table, stopping in front of a clasped pair of hands. And Jimin’s eyes, intent on you under raised brows, made you shift.

“Well, if you’re not going to eat it,” he smiled innocently.

With a pout, you made a swipe for the toast you had abandoned on your plate in your (rather long) moment of distraction. The plate, of course, swiftly darted away from your reach, then switched directions.

Huffing, you gave up, slouching back sulkily in your chair while Jimin laughed.

Another hand reached over to slide your breakfast back to you, this time met with no protest. Jimin was still laughing, glittering pink dying in his eyes, and you smiled gratefully to V, your food restorer.

Lesson learned, you did keep your attention to yourself this time as you finished without looking back up.

As such, you missed the sharp eyes that had finally turned towards you.

At a loss, and not keen as usual to head to training, you followed Jimin and V over to the couch and sunk into it after breakfast, ready to waste away some of the morning. The other two kept muttering between themselves, but you were happy to let them go on unbothered.

A weight dipping the cushion beside you made your head turn in surprise.

Hope flopped against the back of the sofa, looking up at you with a smile.

“Did I ever tell you how I got my powers?” he said, tone casual.

Meanwhile, you tried not to widen your eyes. While all the boys, for obvious reasons, knew about the cause of your powers’ arrival, you weren’t sure about theirs. It wasn’t something you could just… ask.

Or so you thought.

It had been one of the worst nights of your life, so you imagined it was similar for them. Why should they want to share that with someone they didn’t trust?

Maybe Hobi did trust you, though. Because when you shook your head, he shifted his elbows onto the back of the sofa, leaning forward to confide in you.

“I was a student,” he began the tale, “training for stunt work on the side. I had to work this shitty all-night convenience store to afford it… not exactly in the safest end of town.”

You could only imagine it all too well. You realised Jimin and V had stopped their chatter, lapsing into silent attention to the story, although they must know it already.

“One night, some random guy tried to rob the place. When he started attacking a customer, I vaulted the cash desk to stop him. He beat the shit out of me. Had a crowbar and everything. But then, when I was on the floor – couldn’t move anymore, not even stand – it’s like I suddenly woke up. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Watching his face carefully, you found no words. It was clear the experience had been terrifying, his expression clouding for a moment as he told you the worst of it. You had never seen him look so serious.

He shook himself lightly, meeting your eyes again, and the normally permanent smile returned to his face.

“Suddenly I got the energy to fight back. Since then, I’ve moved faster, been stronger, than I ever was before. It turned a few heads on the stunt team, which is how Namjoon got wind of me.”

“Wow, that’s… scary,” you settled for, though it didn’t do his story justice.

“Yeah,” he nodded, before turning fully to you, a look fixing you in place. “Nothing compared with a slip in training.”

You wilted at the painful reminder which blindsided you. So that’s what this was about?

Hope clapped you on the shoulder.

“I still trust you, yeah? That’s not up to Jungkook.”

Nodding, you finally managed a weak smile of your own.

“Thanks.”

Not knowing how to settle back into the sofa, you shifted and spied V whispering something to Jimin. Jimin shifted back to look him in the face, brow tilting in question. V nodded.

Then Jimin spun to you.

“Tae also wants me to tell you… how he got his powers.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Really,” you shifted your gaze to V, “don’t feel you have to. It must be tough-”

“It may be hard to talk about, but you should hear it,” Jimin assured you, “we want you to know.”

Your heart softened at this double show of trust. Giving a nod, you watched Jimin take a bracing breath.

“I was the one who found him,” he began, “Namjoon sent me. He heard about the place, wanted to investigate… it was a testing centre. They were keeping him there like a prisoner, seeing what stuff they could inject until he…”

Jimin choked off the sentence. You didn’t want to hear the end of it.

Jimin’s eyes were wide and betrayed such dazzling emotion you could hardly look. It was no wonder he was such a fierce protector of V, that they loved each other so strongly.

“In the end, they gave him fire. We’re not even sure if they meant to, if they knew what they were doing. But they were using him, and I had to get him out of there.”

Letting silence stretch for a moment, you waited until it was clear he wasn’t going on.

“Good,” you spoke quietly. Shifting your eyes to V, you found him looking at you calmly, though the darkness in his eyes was heavier than normal. “I’m glad you made it here.”

Jimin squeezed his hand.

Though you tried to swallow it down, you couldn’t help your next question. You wouldn’t ask what happened to Hope’s would-be killer, but this…

“What happened to the lab?” you whispered.

V’s gaze remained unblinking.

“Burned,” he said, in that rare, low voice.

Not leaving his gaze, you only nodded.

You may have been accepted by your friends. Their trust bolstered you, it did, only… Something didn’t sit right while you were still so perplexed at your precarious footing with Jungkook.

When he did show up, Jungkook seemed oddly distracted all morning. Weirdest of all was that his mood didn’t drive him away to the gym like usual. He sat at the end of the sofa until Yoongi arrived, fishing controllers from the dreaded Drawer of Cables. Playing a few rounds of video games was fun, but you still found yourself glancing a little too often at the detached Jungkook. When a controller got passed to him, he nearly won without breaking into a sweat, only to apparently zone out and fall off the map near the end.

The others laughed at him and yelled their own victories, the two of you the only ones not joining in. At least you cracked a grin, but Jungkook seemed to have drifted.

Maybe, with the others knowing him better than you did, their lack of notice was a good sign. Surely you couldn’t be the only one caught so off-guard by his silence? Or maybe it was because of last night. None of the others had heard your odd midnight conversation.

With Jungkook acting this way, you had wondered how training would play out. If he would even show. You wouldn’t blame him after yesterday with Hobi, and… whatever that had been last night.

No, you wouldn’t blame him, but strangely you found yourself hoping for the opposite in any case. Some sign from him about what last night meant… or at least that you should forget about it.

In the event, your wondering was never answered.

Namjoon marching into the room wasn’t what any of you had expected. Usually, that meant business. And today was no exception.

“Are you guys ready to head out?”

Which meant that if you weren’t, now was the time to prepare. All you needed to do was grab shoes, and then you were following Jin as he grabbed keys and headed down the front stairs to the garage.

Behind you, Hobi was desperately searching for a second shoe, only having found one in his room. Yoongi had been begrudgingly roped into helping, and his sighs filled the air at regular intervals as he found yet another spot empty.

Jimin was hopping around as he tried to run to the door before tying his laces.

Namjoon walked through the sudden chaos, unfazed, raising his voice slightly.

“Bosun’s just had to flee his place at the edge of town. Says there are people inside already. So we’d better move.”

The garage door slid open as you reached it. Jungkook was already waiting. He had been the first one to his feet when Namjoon entered with a battle plan, and you got it. Some good action would force unwanted distractions from your mind like nothing else.

He pushed away from the wall, squaring his shoulders as he stepped towards the waiting cars. And stumbled.

You bit down on your lip, but it was as if he could sense your instinctive laughter. Yours were the first place his eyes glowered as he recovered balance.

Ducking your eyes, they landed on a sneaker strewn on the ground.

“Oi, Hobi!” you called, launching his missing sneaker up the stairs past Namjoon, who was now descending.

“Thanks!” came his call, and then he was beside you in an instant, yellow light flashing in his eyes.

“Hey, only one of us has speed powers!” Yoongi complained, jogging down the stairs last.

Namjoon’s eyes flickered over the lot of you and then you were piling into cars. Jimin tugged you after him and V into Jin’s car, while the others took the neighbouring one.

With the unexpected attack already apparently underway, Jin cut all the corners he could as you sped across the city. You remembered seeing Bosun’s name in one of the various files Jin was sifting through as he and Namjoon desperately tried to strategise their way out of this game already in motion. Clearly, his wasn’t one of their top places of concern as he hadn’t been relocated yet.

You were beginning to see why. The streets you passed grew less and less maintained, cracks, weeds and broken signs whizzing past your window. This was more similar to the end of town you used to live in, before Bolt. And you would assume it to be way off his radar.

Apparently not.

Jin pulled up in some alley beside an unassuming and leaky-looking warehouse. Fumbling to open the glove box, he passed you each a small receiver along with instructions.

“Jimin, V, take that side. The back entrance is around there. With any luck they aren’t expecting us, but be ready for anything. Y/N, go the other way, check it’s clear. Then head to the front where you’ll meet the others.”

Nodding hastily, you all scrammed from the car. Jimin patted your shoulder and flashed you a grin – a nod from V and they were sprinting away to the left. You peeled off right instead, focus setting in the moment your feet were in motion.

Rounding a corner, you were faced with a near-identical alley, narrow and shadowy with puddles nestled in cracks in the concrete.

Eyes scanning, you first checked the windows in the long expanse of wall. There were few, high up and tiny. From here, you could see no one looking back out at you. Hopefully that meant the surprise factor was still on your side.

It was when your eyes returned to the street in front of you that your steps faltered. Closer now, a figure became clear in the shadows that you hadn’t made out before.

Slowing, you squinted at them, hands already twitching. But they hadn’t made any move, although they had clearly seen you. Crouched against the wall, they looked directly your way as you approached hesitantly. Maybe they just didn’t know who you were? But if they were guarding this place, surely any passerby could be classed as a threat?

So why weren’t they attacking?

You stopped fully, now only paces from them. You saw it was a young man, maybe even a teenager. His eyes were large as they looked at you from below unkempt hair, and while they had a hard edge of practised hostility, all you read there was wariness and fear.

Hands retreating under fraying sleeves, he shifted uncomfortably the longer you stood in front of him. Worn-out shoes with a hole in the side shifted near to a puddle.

Frowning, your eyes caught sight of a bag he was sheltering with his body.

Breath slowed uncomfortably in your throat as it dawned on you. He wasn’t with the people attacking the warehouse – he probably had no idea anything was even going on in the building behind the two of you.

“You should get out of here,” you met his eyes again.

He didn’t need telling twice. Since you had showed interest in him, his discomfort had been clear, and he finally shot to his feet, still clinging to the overstuffed backpack behind him.

Then your eyes were torn from his nervous ones by a blast from the end of the alley.

Whipping around, you were briefly dazzled by a burst of gold light. Inexplicably, it put you at ease – or the knowledge of who was behind it did.

What had you instantly back on edge were the two silhouetted figures that now ran across the entrance to the alleyway. The sight of weapons clutched to their chests had your fingers flexing, feeling your powers simmer defensively.

It had begun.

A second after the armed people emerged, one of them was sent to the floor by a human-sized bullet – Hope. Their gun skidded away, landing in a shallow puddle with a splash.

Starting forwards intently to aid your team, you spared one last glance back at the boy you had found in the alley.

Those same fearful eyes were now fixed past you at the violence unfolding as it spilled from the warehouse entrance. Rigid, he seemed frozen to the spot.

“Go!” you barked, “I mean it!”

And then you were running. If he had any sense, the kid would get moving.

Another sharp blade of gold light descended, nearly knocking over the remaining assailant ahead of you, but they ducked and staggered on, the blast clashing with the neighbouring wall. Tracing the source of the attack, you spied Jungkook’s vantage point on the roof, his head visible though only a brief blur as he raced after his target.

Fixing your eyes front, you charged head-on at the fleeing man.

And he spotted you too.

Whatever weapon you were facing now, you didn’t fancy finding out. He was aiming it, giving you a clear view down the barrel.

Your step never once faltered. You didn’t need to reach for a weapon.

You were one.

Blue fired from your fingertips before his could move on the trigger. It caught him, flinging him backwards, flipping before slamming against the ground.

Still hot-footing it to the heat of the action, you glanced to Jungkook, smirk already lifting your lips, ready to share the momentary victory.

But he hadn’t changed direction. Instead, he was flying towards you, descending from the rooftop on a pillar of gold, and his other arm was aiming behind you-

Turning, you caught sight of the fleeing boy, almost out of sight now.

Your heart dropped in slow motion, but your body acted without waiting for permission.

Well-aimed gold streaked down the alley. Hand raising, you threw an arrow of blue to meet it. Lightning collided in the air, your shot throwing his off, a missile of sparking blue and gold smashing against the warehouse.

Outrage painting his face, Jungkook hit the ground, already dashing towards you and the boy. Readied his arm again…

“Jungkook!” you cried.

Not stepping out of his path, the two of you practically crashed into each other. Your hand caught his shoulder, restraining him as you twisted to look behind you.

The boy was on the ground, metres from the impact. As you watched, he scrambled to his feet, hoisted his backpack over a shoulder and ran, finally disappearing into another street.

“He’s not with them,” you panted, “…he’s just a kid.”

Turning back to Jungkook, you expected rage, frustration… but not this. His eyes were fixed on the spot the boy had fled from. As his eyes tracked, slowly, back to your face, he inhaled softly. Held it. Slack-jawed horror washed over him.

Struck by the force of emotion surfacing so suddenly in his eyes, you lightened your grip and took a step back.

A heavy frown pressed on Jungkook's brows, gaze once again growing distant, drifting to the alley behind you.

“I didn’t think…” he mumbled, but his lips stilled again, parted in horror.

“You’re not supposed to expect it,” you whispered.

Eyes fixed on Jungkook’s intently, you caught the sharp flicker as they returned to you. Lucidity flooded back to him and his throat bobbed in a hard swallow.

As he looked at you, his frown eased imperceptibly, realisation widening his eyes instead.

“He would be dead.” Jungkook’s voice was brittle.

Your heart was only now slowing in your chest, the shock of adrenaline subsiding. All it took was another blow from somewhere behind the pair of you, ringing out through the confined space, to pull you away from Jungkook.

His head turned; you stepped to see around him. Dropping your arm fully at last, you broke into a sprint once more, knowing even before you heard his steps that Jungkook would be right beside you.

You eyed the warehouse and alleyway disappearing in the rear-view mirror. Soon they were eaten up by the maze of roads taking you back into the city that was none the wiser.

There hadn’t been many more attackers. No one of note, only bolstered by weapons of Bolt’s previous acquisition. In the end, the group of you had driven them out with relative ease.

Which was good. Bosun had shaken hands with Namjoon outside in relief as he found his work still intact.

But you wondered if you were the only one nagged by another win without sight of the orchestrator. Bolt seemed to follow you everywhere, without ever showing his face. You took your eyes from the cars around you to a news stand as you drove past. Blue splashed over the front cover, Bolt took his place in the glorious spotlight, right where he wanted.

Did the readers know what he had working behind the scenes?

The weapons these fighters were decked out with, you knew them. But you also knew Kuyang had never made so many of them as you were now encountering on each shout.

“Do you think Namjoon-hyung will mind if we skip training?” Jimin was nudging V with that playfully devilish grin of his, “we basically had a workout already!”

Glancing at the rear-view, you saw Jin raise a brow and shared a private smile with yourself. You didn’t think Namjoon was the one Jimin should be worrying about.

Then you sat up.

“Hey, Jin?” you spoke.

He hummed, glancing to you in the mirror, but your eyes had caught something else.

“The same car is still behind us.”

Jin’s hands tightened on the wheel and he shot a look to follow yours.

“You’re sure?”

He braked a little too sharply as a car pulled from a turning ahead of you.

“I’m sure. Not that red one, the black one behind it, do you see?”

Narrowed eyes scanning the mirror, he nodded.

“Since when?”

“A good few roads. Since the lights.”

Jimin had gone quiet, all three of you now watching Jin closely for an answer as he pursed his lips. Though you sincerely hoped it was simply a harmless coincidence, you had left the busiest roads and were nearing home. Best not to take chances.

“Let’s see what they’re about,” Jin said, voice low and calculated.

A challenge.

A turning approached, so he indicated and slipped into the right-turn lane. Tentatively, you turned your head, enough to eye the black car. It carried on behind the red one and you relaxed – for a moment.

Then, just before you were obscured by the corner, it, too, switched lanes.

Your car took a collective breath in.

Jin tilted his head.

“Interesting.”

Chewing your cheek, you glanced sideways. The same nerves were reflected back in Jimin and V’s eyes.

“Jimin, can you text Namjoon that we have a potential tail?” Jin asked, tone suddenly lighter, “might be late. And in the meantime-”

He turned again, taking you down a much smaller road. The opposite direction to your original destination.

Driving straight on, he waited until the black car showed itself behind you. There was almost no doubt in your mind now.

“Joon says he’ll see us back home,” Jimin said, lifting his phone up surreptitiously to snap some images of your stalker, “and that they’re all clear. Although maybe whoever’s following them is just more subtle about it.”

Jin chuckled with him, but it was brief.

“Well, without Y/N spotting it, I’m not sure I would be much the wiser,” he mused.

Another glance in the mirror, and the black vehicle was indicating, pulling between parked cars. Didn’t tuck itself all the way in, with what could be an effort to keep a view clear of your car heading further down the road.

“Oh, were heading this way after all, hm?” Jin asked dryly.

Looking back to the road with determination, he took a right. Not long after, another right, where he swung around and stopped, facing out onto the road you had just left.

It didn’t even take that long. Your lungs hadn’t even started straining from the breath you held.

The car drove in front of you.

Jimin was ready, taking another picture as the driver passed, but there was no double-take or visible glance your way. They had a hood up, mask and dark glasses on.

The car carried on, but this game wasn’t going to last. As Jin pulled out, they were already slowing down, turning onto the road parallel to yours.

A burst of speed had you pressed back in the seat.

“Jimin, can you stop this guy? I’ve seen about enough.”

Jimin hummed a casual agreement, but you saw the smirk that grew on his lips, the glint in his eyes before pink light bled into them.

Sure enough, at the next intersection, the black car was right there. Jimin held a hand up, splayed his fingers, and that was all it took. Your stalker hit an invisible wall. The tyres froze, car stuck fast on the road it had been speeding down.

Jin put his foot down.

Several turns and roads later, with no more signs of the same vehicle, or of any repeat followers, he finally turned on himself, resuming your intended route at last. Didn’t stop you all keeping lookout, even as you waited for the hidden wall to slip aside and let you home. Especially then.

It was a relief to spill up the stairs to the scents of cooking – tteokbokki, if you weren’t mistaken.

The second lot of relief came when you saw Yoongi was the one behind the stove. Bound to be a solid meal, trusting him.

While the group noticed your return, Hobi jumping to his feet and Namjoon striding forwards, checking on all of you, you paused on the top step. Just cast your eyes around, for a second. Sometimes these moments would hit you from nowhere. Some outdated part of you expecting to have to cook for yourself after getting back from an already exhausting day, only to find your team making things easier.

In the small ways, just as much as the big, your life had changed. In the small ways, it was definitely for the better.

Letting a fond, awed smile slip onto your face for a second, you breathed in.

Jimin’s laugh met your ears, and you turned back to the moment. He clapped a chuckling Jungkook on the shoulder, giving a playful shove before he moved on towards the table. You moved to follow, only to find Jungkook hadn’t budged.

Residual smile still on his face, eyes wide and cheerful, his gaze rested on you. There was a slight hesitation, his smile growing fainter, nervous as he appeared to stall in front of you.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. It would almost be conversational; if only you had had a casual conversation with the guy, you would know. “Glad you’re all back safe.”

At your stunned stare, he squeezed a hurried smile back in place, and fled to Yoongi’s side in the kitchen. Your mouth hung open, eyes following Jungkook’s back even as Jin marched past.

“Yah, trust me to take care of the kitchen hyung,” Yoongi complained to the back of Jin’s head as he bent to sample a spoonful of sauce.

“I’m just taste-testing,” Jin defended a second later with a cheeky grin on his face.

Yoongi didn’t bat an eye.

“Well if the inspector’s not happy, report me,” he harrumphed, “go sit down.”

Jin allowed himself to be shoved table-wards, self-satisfied smile permanently on his face.

Still hovering beside Yoongi, Jungkook finally looked back at you. It would have been subtle, too, if you had been able to tear your eyes from him yet. He gazed up from below his hair.

A small, startled expression flitted across his face – not so intimidating now, huh? – before your view was mercifully blocked by Namjoon.

“I heard you noticed the tail back there. Good spot.”

Smiling, you bobbed your head.

“Thanks,” you eyed the floor, “I don’t even know what made me look for it.”

“Whatever it was, I’m glad you did. It got us all back here. I’ll be working on finding out who they were, though, and what they were doing after us.”

Your eyes flicked back to his face, a flicker of unease shooting across your expression.

He sighed, his turn to drop his gaze this time.

“I’ll keep you all posted. For now, it’s done. And I believe dinner is in order.”

Stepping aside, he ushered you past, only somewhat assuaged. That hadn’t been some usual attack which you could put down all-guns-blazing. Someone following you… that was different. Someone playing a long game. And there was one person you could already think of who was running one of those.

In the time you had been speaking with Namjoon, Jin had somehow returned to the kitchen, though Yoongi was silent about it this time.

Yoongi passed dishes as Jin scooped food into them, Jungkook rooting through the cupboards for something too. Slipping into a seat, you watched them idly. Jin set the steaming plates on the side, which is when Jungkook leaned over to chop chives over the top. You sure were in for a luxurious meal. A decent reward, you thought.

Turning with the next plate, Jin paused. Didn’t set it down. He stared, frozen, at Jungkook.

Catching on a second later, the younger man looked up like a caught puppy. Even if he hadn’t been doing anything nefarious.

An amused smile stole over Jin’s face.

“Since when do you cook so fancy, Kook?” he grinned.

“F-fancy?” Jungkook blinked. “Isn’t this… how you make it?”

Jin shrugged, setting down the plate and turning to grab the one Yoongi proffered impatiently.

“Never thought to add them,” Jin mused, “looks nice though. Tell me, where did you pick up such cheffing tips?”

Jin was half-joking, still plating up, but something was dawning on the younger man.

Jungkook looked comically horrified, gaze darting between the green chives in one hand and the scissors in the other. He paused like that just a little too long to sound casual when he finally regained his voice to mutter:

“This is how Y/N likes it.”

Any hope of sounding nonchalant died as Jin’s eyes bulged from his face. Yoongi froze, eyebrows raising, before looking over his shoulder to you with a questioning smile.

Namjoon, mercifully, looked down to his lap with a private smile, but he was the only one. Hobi broke into a grin and Jimin spun to laugh openly at his younger brother, who looked thoroughly grumpy now. Jungkook’s mouth was fixed in a solid pout, his hard glare not helping in the slightest as the declarations of joyful surprise clearly got to him.

In the face of Yoongi’s now wiggling eyebrows, and a disconcertingly intense stare from V, you laughed weakly.

For a second, your eyes met with Jungkook’s. He snapped his gaze away an instant later, firmly hiding his flushed cheeks with his turned back, recommencing his chive-chopping rather more aggressively.

Jin clapped him on the back exaggeratedly, before scooping a dish up.

“I think this has the most,” he smirked, sliding it to rest right in front of you, “the Y/N speciality, made just for you.”

With a roll of your eyes and an exasperated laugh, you took the bowl.

“Yah, leave off! You brought this on yourself, you know. Why not teach Jungkook your way?”

“Wha-” Jin broke off, flicking a dish towel at Jungkook’s back, “how many times have I made tteokbokki with you, punk?”

Shoulders a little looser, Jungkook ducked out of the way.

“You mean made for me,” he defended.

Leaving Jin to splutter behind him, Jungkook marched over to the table with two more chive-topped bowls of food which he set down a little too hard, landing with loud clunks.

The others dutifully moved on to other things as the plates all reached the table and the lot of you dug in, grateful after an eventful day. When Jin made a comment about the added flavour of the dish, it was genuine and not a dig at their youngest.

Still, Jungkook picked quietly at his food. It may have been bold to claim he was avoiding your eye, as you couldn’t really remember a time he had sought it out, but though he was only a seat across from you, he didn’t once look at you. What was worse was that you couldn’t help but notice. Couldn’t stop your attention straying to him among the boys’ chatter which should have been distracting you.

At least he ate it all.

You made a point to collect his plate once you had all finished. Namjoon had already disappeared, Jimin gathering the rest of the dishes to wash.

Rounding the table, you lifted the empty dish from under his nose, making him look up.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you said, before he could look away. You didn’t smile, just returned his startled gaze with your own steady one.

He had to know you weren’t laughing at him. Even if a sprinkling of chives was nothing to be embarrassed about in the first place.

Ducking his gaze after a long second, he followed the others to flop down on the sofa.

Watching with amusement, you had to force yourself to move too. You placed the dishes on the pile and distractedly grabbed a towel since Jimin had started washing. It was funny… Not long ago, you wouldn’t have thought the abrasive, menacing Jungkook you knew then could ever look like a deer in the headlights.

“What are you smiling about?”

An elbow from Jimin brought you abruptly from your reflections. Yelping, you swatted him away.

“Nothing,” you insisted, grabbing desperately for a dish to dry.

Your response only encouraged the teasing smile spreading across your companion’s mouth. You didn’t like the way his eyebrow quirked. He fixed you with a scarily knowing look that had you gulping.

Then he shrugged and turned back to the dishwater.

THE CHIIIIVES😂Thank you for reading! How are you enjoying them all getting along?💜

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[livi-in-digital-circus]

The Abuse || a short Bunnydoll angsty story

I wrote this only because I'm having worse days now (also I started writing the new fic but I'm already stuck at the beginning of TwT)

TW: abuse

Through the glass wall of the infirmary, Ragatha stared at the guests of the Digital Circus. Once in a while, people from the real world had the chance to meet their favorite characters in person, not knowing that they were actually normal humans just like them. It was unfair that they could go home the moment their visit ended. But that was what the circus was all about. Every single member of the crew was an animal trapped in a cage, released only to perform silly and often dangerous acts.

And since Caine was especially busy when they had visitors, Ragatha couldn’t ask him to help her get back to her pristine self. Instead, she had to spend the entire day under the care of a nurse-like NPC who stuffed her with more pills, like painkillers, hour after hour. Even though the rag doll didn’t seem to have any bones in her plush body, she felt like her bruised arm was broken. Not to mention that she had vomited at least three times that day and felt dizzy all the time.

It was a pure torture.

The girls in the main area were loud enough for Ragatha to hear what they were saying, so she leaned carefully against the wall. Due to her current state, she wasn’t allowed to greet the visitors. After all, Caine had to keep the reputation of the circus at its best, and if anyone found out there was a serious case of abuse going on behind the scenes, he would lose everything he had worked on for years.

“Did you see the way he looked at me? I’m definitely his type!” One of the girls exclaimed. Her digital avatar resembled a cute Lolita-style doll, making her look like an innocent angel. Another one, Ragatha thought.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t mention our shrines full of his limited merch.” The other said, her cat ears and tail moving on their own from time to time. “But then again, who wouldn’t want lots of Jax for themselves?”

Ragatha trembled. These two clearly had no idea who they were talking about. Judging by their behavior and appearance, they were mostly underage and delusional. The rag doll looked at her arm again. She should be jealous, it was her boyfriend who was the center of attention that day.

Instead, she felt anger, especially when she heard the girls mention all the things they wanted Jax to do to them. Ragatha smiled bitterly to herself, the familiar metallic taste tickling her tongue. She had lived too long in the circus to understand today’s teenagers. Some of them were born into rich families and had everything they could wish for. It could be anything, like an expensive dress worn by many famous models, or a bottle of sweet-smelling limited edition perfume. And yet they chose to be used by none other than Jax.

Little do they know that he is a real abuser.

And abuse is not something you should wish for.

Year after year, the rabbit became more mentally unstable. Several times he promised Ragatha that he would change, that he would try to be a better boyfriend. She was very proud of Jax when he managed to go a whole week without hurting her. But when she was about to visit him in his room after one of their adventures to watch a movie, she found him torturing the little version of herself that she had made for him to hug when he felt alone.

Caine had no idea how to fix Jax. His first assumption was that he would soon abstract, but Ragatha quickly shook her head. That had been going on for a long time, with no clear signs of improvement. However, she didn’t feel any hatred for Jax, even though she was sore and bruised the last few days. She knew it was because of his poor mental health and that inside he was still the bunny she had fallen in love with.

The girls disappeared from her view after a while. Ragatha groaned as she made her way back to bed. All she wanted was to fall asleep and wake up the next day. The moment her head touched the pillow, she heard someone enter the infirmary.

“Feeling better?” Jax sat on the edge of the bed, his gloved hand gently stroking the bandage on the rag doll’s cheek. Ragatha shivered, yet her lover’s soothing touch was all she needed at the moment.

“Still a little sore, but it’s okay. Did you enjoy the meeting with the viewers?”

“Not really, this group was annoying as hell.”

“I don’t like what those girls said about you.” Though Ragatha didn’t want to tell him exactly what. She knew Jax felt bad after each time he lost control and hurt her, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable now that he was temporarily sane again.

Jax let out a soft laugh and pressed his lips to Ragatha’s forehead. God, she loved his kisses so much.

“I actually brought you something to drink. You must be thirsty after I… you know.”

Ragatha gladly accepted the water bottle and began to pour the liquid into her mouth. But just as she was about to stop, she felt Jax’s hands suddenly tighten around her neck, causing her to cough and choke. The taste of water and blood mixed sickeningly in her mouth.

Jax knew it was only a matter of time before she started vomiting all over the circus from the ‘water’ he gave her.

Everyone told Ragatha to break up with Jax, but she was too kindhearted to do that. He was mentally ill and she wanted to help him. She hoped that one day everything would be okay, that her boyfriend would overcome this.

And before that happens, she would be tortured in many more different ways for the next few weeks, months, or maybe even years.

Still, Ragatha would manage to survive all this. It was impossible to die in Digital Circus after all.

Thanks for reading!

(I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me for writing this ;-;)

[fishyvamp]

Deathslinger x reader? I think he'd play with his survivor and edge to the point of overstimulation 🥴

I know who sent this and I know she'll be okay if I tweak this a little, related to this post.

NSFW 18+ MDNI (Deathslinger punishing his "Entity" for neglecting their trials)

Deathslinger didn't know what what to think when he found himself in a room with strange things and a closet so full you must be wealthy... You look so pretty laying there sleeping. His rifle set to the side of the bed as he sat down fingers reaching out to caress your face softly. "I reckon yer the prettiest thing I've seen," he whispers watching as you stirred looking up in a dream induced haze. He was startled to say the least when your lips mashed into his aggressive needy hands gripping the front of his vest holding him tight. Rough boney fingers grabbing at your waist. It felt strange how eager you were to kiss him. Outward displays of attraction was not being something he was lucky have in spades, but here it was you were hungrily kissing him. His body seizing as he hears you whisper the most sinful thing he could think of with someone as attractive as you. "Fuck me old man, fuck me like I'm the last good fuck you'll ever have."

Well when you ask him so nicely, he'll do as he's told flipping you on your stomach, entity given strength more then enough to flip, mentally he was unprepared to learn you slept naked your beautiful sex exposed to him practically glowing under the light of those magic strings that were glowing on your walls his fingers finding your hole twisting and curling he can feel the way you writhe beneath him clawing like a beast at your sheets as you had been so willfully unprepared. Your moans like a wild animal in heat as you fight to stay still. Deathslinger chuckles pinning you down with his free hand keeping your face pressed against the mattress as he adds another finger cooing in your ear, "such a filthy whore, taken a strangers fingers in such a personal spot. Shouldn't you know better."

Deathslinger smirks feeling you flinch when his hand meets your ass so harshly. He loves the way your greedy hole is just sucking him. He loves the way writhe and scream. Fuck if he didn't know any better he'd swear you were made for this. His cock practically screaming at him as it presses against his trousers. Thinking he's got you good and ready he pulls out, grabbing the snake in his pants smearing the precum down his shaft giving it a few good strokes before he's pressed against you pushing in hard. What he lacks in girth he makes up for in length the tip kissing deep inside you stroking the sweet spot as you drags it out. Soft and infuriatingly slow strokes being made as he just lazily fucks into you.

Deathslinger's mind overwhelmed hearing you whine and whimper around him, "I'm only repaying ya back dear. Isn't a mite frustratin' ta made ta wait." His fingers digging in harshly as you try to move it along, but he won't. He's enjoying himself, enjoys the feeling of having you desperate. He'll fuck you nice and slow for hours denying you to the point of overstimulation, poor hole clenching and desperate. "How about this darlin? You open the trials back up to us and I promise to lettin' ya have right proper good time." He drawls.

Watching the way the sweat on your skin glows in the dim lighting, Deathslinger feels alive for the first time in a long time, loving the way his balls slap against your skin. You nod your head weakly agreeing to his terms and hold on for dear life as he pace becomes more aggressive speeding up bit by bit having you finally cum, but he's not stopping. He's got plenty of stamina and a stubborn streak, he's gonna get you to cum over and over again not stopping to let you catch your breath as he cums deep inside you breeding that greed hole letting you milk him dry. He doesn't stop then just grinding into you until he's hard again. You aren't going to be empty until he's had his fill.

[turtlecleric]

bro Bro BRO JUST HEAR ME OUT, OKAY, HEAR ME OUT.

So, rise!Donnie, right? But... sleep paralysis ride!Donnie 😲

IT'S LIKE... You move into the new apartment. You absolutely love it, everything is great. But then, after a few days, you wake up in the middle of the night. You can swear someone is starting at you. You fall back asleep soon enough and don't really think about it in the morning. It happens a few times almost every day, but you still doesn't really think about it.

Then, you wake up again. It definitely feels like there's something else in the bed with you. Or someone. You also feel like this someone is moving closer to you, the weigh of his body shifts and mattress squeaks. You were sleeping on your back, so you try to turn your head and see what is that, but you can't. Your body is still, doesn't matter how hard you want it to move. You just laying like that for a few minutes, before drifting back to sleep, thinking that this was just a weird dream. Even the part when you felt like there was a whole person literally laying on top of you, inhaling the smell of your still shower-wet hair.

A few days later you wake up again AND... YOU GET WHAT HAPPENED, AHAHSNDBDNSK.

IT'S JUST...you can't move at all and he can di whatever he wants and...just... 😭❤❤❤

This idea have been rotting in my head for a very very long time. I don't even know if it's good or not, ahahaah.

I'm sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, English it's my mother language. Also sorry if it's weird or something, haha.

Feel free to ignore:)

BTW, it's not a request, I'm not asking for a fuc on this idea or anything. I'm just like... Don't have any friends to which I can, like, tell any of those nasty thoughts of mine. I just wanted to share a bit of my rotted mind and... Well, I mean, it sounds kinda hot, you can't deny it, come on 😏

ALRIGHT, TAKE CARE, ABSOLUTELY LOVE EVERYTHING YOU MAKE, WE ALL VERY UNWELL MENTALLY BUT WE ARE TOGETHER IN THIS, BYE❤

CWs: non con, somno

Oh man, can you imagine if sleep paralysis is something you've always had? But the feeling of being watched, of someone else being there, of someone touching you - that's all new. So you're just thinking it's your sleep paralysis/dreams changing over time. And honestly? It's scary at first, like it always has been when you can't move, but... then it's... kind of nice. You start to really enjoy it. It's better than it used to be, before you moved here, when the sleep paralysis was just scary and nothing else. When you had nightmares instead of wet dreams. It's odd, waking up sore, but... you feel really good, despite the ache in your muscles.

Can you imagine what you might feel, waking up after another wet dream, to see hickeys on your neck in the mirror? What you might think, when you force yourself to stay awake that night, pretending to sleep, keeping your breaths slow and even, and the familiar weight that settles over you doesn't disappear when you open your eyes? When your fingers brush over scales and keratin, and you hear a voice say, quiet and raspy and scared, "You're awake?"

Can you imagine? Realizing that it's all real?

[readychilledwine]

Eris Week Day 5 - Dance | Blood Duel

A Brother's Love

Happy day 5 of @erisweek2023. I originally wanted to do a piece regarding his love of dance, but this happened. I feel like Eris would declare a blood duel for one of his siblings, or of course his mother, after seeing the effect Beron has had on Lucien for life, BUT it would take the right motivation since it wasn't part of his originally calculated plan. So, for those of you who love Lyria (My Slow Hands OC), she's back. But you might not like why.

Summary - Eris contemplates his childhood nightmares after his younger sister suffers at Beron's hands.

Warnings - mentions of blood, abuse, Beron.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Eris had never wanted to have to do this. He had heard stories about blood duels as a child. Those stories caused him nightmares as a young boy about males killing each other off. Nightmares about the golden Lord of Day coming and destroying his family.

He scoffed at the idea of family as he changed out his sister's blood-soaked bandages again.

He knew better now. Family did not do what their father had done to her. A father did not do what Beron had done to his only daughter and sons for centuries. A good husband did not beat and torment his wife into submission.

Lyria had come home to see their mother, per an agreement and bargain she had with the Autumn Lord. She could come home once every 3 months to see mother if, and only if, Lyria came when Autumn called for her, no matter the reason, and she never swore into another court. The key detail of that last part of the bargain had Eris mentally flinching. Lyria was beautiful, kind, and intelligent, but when it came to twisting words and finding hidden intentions, she was not smart. Their fath-Beron had asked that of her to ensure one thing:

No High Lord could interfere with him beating her still.

Her last few visits were calm. Beron had not had an interest in hurting her. He had not shown interest in anything other than her position in Rhysand's court. This time was much different. She had tried to hide the scent of the mating bond well, but it lingered. The scent of the Shadowsinger clung to every inch of her skin, the fine thread of her clothing, her hair. She was constantly glowing in her happiness, basking all of them in the light that only true joy brought her at family dinners by accident. For Eris, it was sobering to see his sister radiating and growing in another court, and in the safety given by a male few would be foolish enough to fuck with.

Tonight, his father proved he was foolish enough. 

Lyria had agreed to dinner with Beron privately. Keeping the peace, she had told Eris as he braided her hair. He allows me come here to see Momma, Eris. I have to appease him a bit.

Eris had heard her screams halfway through the nightly tea he took with their mother. Her eyes had shut slowly as they realized what was probably happening. Guards had barricaded the sons of Autumn and their mother to the rooms they were in making interference an impossible task.

He had paced the doorway, waiting with his breath caught in his throat for her screams and crying to stop. Despite years of their father's torture, Lyria had never learned that Beron wanted to hear her scream. He got off on her pleading, her begging. The High Lord would beat her until she was unconscious and unresponsive. Only then would his fun with her be over.

It had felt like hours for the shield trapping him and his mother to drop, and the guards to specifically move and open that door and that door alone. His mother had run out of the room to her daughter. Eris walk quickly, but calmly.

Eris and she had walked into the throne room to find Beron sitting over Lyria, watching her chest barely rise and fall with a mask of indifference. The beating had been brutal. Beron's hands and face were covered in her blood, and a whip sat next to him, leather also soaked in the red liquid. He had stripped her naked beforehand and held the dress to his wife, smirking as she took it with trembling hands.

Do you think she learned her lesson? Or will I have to kill him, too, wife? She has always been too much like you, you realize that? The question echoed in Eris's mind. It ricocheted as he imagined Azriel and his baby sister dying, holding each other until their last breaths. It resurfaced nightmares of hearing Jesminda's screams and Lucien's wails of heartbreak. 

He sat next to her now. Her three smoke hounds spread themselves along the room, guarding the door and balcony. She was supposed to go home tonight, and when she wasn't on the boarder between Spring and Autumn, claws had instantly gone for Eris's mind.

He had blocked them out hours ago, focusing on Lyria and doing what he could for her. He watched as a shadow came, Weaving itself into her hair, between her fingers, then almost seemed to stop and stare at him. He felt the claws again, opening his mind to them now that he knew she was stable and safe in the confines of his private chambers. 

What happened? The normally soft purr was laced with anger and fear.

Eris sighed deeply. Beron scented out the bond. He's banned healers from touching her. I healed what I could, but there's no safe way to get her to the Night Court. I cannot winnow her like this.

The shadow snuggled into her again, wrapping itself around her hand and making her whimper softly. Azriel cannot get in undetected. The eye roll Eris accidentally allowed himself to do was answer to Rhysand enough. This has to stop before he kills one of you, Eris.

It was the statement of the century, and the heirs' mind immediately went back to the blood duel. Helion had already agreed many moons before this to be his second if he ever declared one, and he knew with the mating bond his sister shared, Azriel would be there as well. 

The gruesome images in the texts of the libraries flashed in his mind again. Males gutted, males impaled, beheaded. Eris moved to Lyria again as another whimper of pain ripped through her throat before a soft sob. "I know, little one," he brushed the hair from her bruised cheek. "I am so sorry. I know it hurts."

"Az," his eyes squeezed shut at how scratched her pleading voice was. "Please."

Can Helion shield my room from the Day Court? Eris held the hand the shadow was not occupying. She needs him. He knew the Lord of Day could. He had snuck into the Forest House countless times. Eris felt the shields come into place moments later. Then the shadow scurrying away before siphoned hands moved him from his sister. 

"I'm right here, my spark. Ssshhh," Eris watched in silence before another hand touched his shoulder and squeezed it, finally understanding how bad the beatings the Vanserra children received were. Rhysand was in shock, anger filling every place in his soul. This was unhinged, and Beron kept it so well hidden until now.

Lyria whimpered again, trying to nuzzle into Azriel before a loud sob came from the movement. "It's okay, my love." Eris had never dreamed of seeing love this pure. He had never imagined Azriel as a gentle attentive lover. He turned away as Azriel uncorked a liquid, knowing damn well it was about to force his sister's senses to fall completely and allowing her to sleep. Knowing damn well the only reason he could not offer her the same comfort was due to him having drank the last of his stash after his last beating.

Azriel moved Lyria as gentlyas he could to force her to take it. "This will help, Lyria. I promise." He filed this into a mental bank. He memorized every soft touch of Azriel's hands on his sister's body, and every whisper cemented into his mind, etching themselves into the stone walls of his shields. He memorized the way she tried to subconsciously move closer to her mate, the way that her skin began to glow as he pressed a kiss to her cheek despite her pain. He'd let the new memories fuel him and serve as reminders and as motivation.

Rhys and Eris finally shared a look. One that indicated Rhysand was not happy. That this was officially so much more than he and the High Lord had planned. Rhysand's family now had a very invested interest in Autumn and the well-being of its most powerful family. "This ends," Rhysand demanded softly. "This ends now."

Eris ran a hand through his hair. He knew now that nightmares of blood duels could have nothing on the reality in front of him. This was the wheel he lived on, the wheel his mother lived on, the wheel his brothers lived on, the wheel Lyria suffered on. The cycle they would continue to rotate through, spinning over and over again, until something finally happened. Until someone was brave enough to say, "Enough."

I think you might even be a good male. A deep voice played in his mind. You're just too much of a coward to act like one.

He had made a mistake with Lucien in a similar situation to this. He took an easier way out, allowing his father to continue to live. To continue to harm them. He had been exactly what Cassian had accused him of, a coward. He could not make that mistake again. Not when Lyria, fragile, gentle, and loving, Lyria would be their father's new favorite target and toy.

"Rhys," he finally said. "It's time. I need to break the wheel."

[thelittleliars]

Darkness

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts

Words: 902

A/N: I wrote this for my OWN comfort. Depression sucks and I know no matter what I'll always have to live with my it for the rest of my life. This all is just wishful thinking, the way I'd want it to go away even tho it never will. Pls don't see this as me romanticizing depression or any other mental health issues/disorder.

The dark days always hit you hard. The darkness crept upon you as if you hadn't seen the signs but you had seen them. You just couldn't do anything to stop it so you stopped wasting your energy on that and let it happen. Though during the days you always hoped for the next day to be better. It never was. At night all the Demons & Monsters were lying next to you in bed wide awake thinking about all the things you couldn't change. 

Mornings were incredibly hard for you as you could never seem to get up and often question if you still got the guts to keep waking up. When you did get up and were among people in public you hid every part of yourself so no one would see how close to the ledge you were about to jump off from.

A bunch of times followed where you were close to simply get hit by a bus or leaning too far over the railing of a skyscraper. It never happened, it made you even more miserable and at some point it seemed as if even death didn't want you. 

You sat once again on a bench at the Central Park consumed by thinking shallow thoughts that kept you somehow still afloat. Friends were long abandoned, you hadn't reached out in days if not weeks. You couldn't bring yourself to care them, not if this darkness robbed you of ever little strength you had left, you also had no mental capacity for yet another living creature.

Someone had sat down next to you as you were digging yourself your mental grave, you did not notice them, at least not until you felt the first snow flakes falling against your skin. It was Natasha Romanoff, your supposed 'home'. Only supposed home since you didn't feel the feeling of home for a long time now. You had once pushed her away from you. It was something you regretted but never made an attempt to make up for.

"Sharon called me." She started which not explaining further since she knew that you'd know exactly the reason why. "Shit sounded bad so I tracked you down. Was surprised at how good you became at disappearing." You did not utter a single word. Natasha knew you wouldn't answer, most times when it all got too much you turned semi verbal or even nonverbal. "Let's get you to your apartment?" She stood up and held her hand out for your to take. You didn't want to go, sitting there in the cold gave you a sense of comfort that you longed for. "We can watch a movie or simply lie in bed while staring at the stars we hung up on your ceiling." You were hesitant with putting your hand in hers since the lump in your chest felt only heavier. You dreaded to go 'home'. The single reminder of your bedroom reminded you that those four walls had seen too much already and that added more suffocation to your existing pile. 

At your apartment you seemed to crumble even more into yourself. How much more falling into the deep was possible? You didn't know, still hoping that the bottom would come soon enough. The deep bottom you thought would come and wished it came, didn't come, instead a steadiness of the dark arrived, you believed this was your bottom of this awful 'phase'. 

One night of staying with you turned into fully two weeks. Natasha basically moved back in with you. At first she wasn't so sure if it would be worth it but then she really thought about it and came to the conclusion that it was worth it, you were always worth it. As hard as it were for her, she knew how much harder it must had been for you. She single handly saw how at the end you were. You didn't even had the energy to push her away anymore. 

Night after night she laid quietly in bed with you. Day after day she helped you cooking, doing the dishes, changing clothes and if it was an extremely bad day she helped washing your body and hair. On a day you felt better yet still awful, you bought her flowers and her favorite alcohol. You were grateful for her and everything she did for you. She soon became a reason for you to start fighting the dark again. This time you were hopeful that things could get better. And they did, extremely slow for your liking but you couldn't complain, not after surviving your demons and monsters. 

Natasha stood by your side of every step you took. She even went to therapy with you when you told her you wanted to try it. She made sessions lighter until you were comfortable enough to go alone. Looking back you wanted to cry over how much she sacrificed to help you. You felt guilty about that but she reassured you that she'd do it all over again if she had the chance because it was worth it. You were worth it all. To seeing you smile, to seeing you being you, to gazing into each others eyes, to getting to touch you, to being held by you, to loving you and getting loved by you. 

Sometimes all you need is someone who understands you deeply and helps you simply with their presence. 

[delfiore]

—DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT (3/3)

pairing: natasha romanoff x android!reader

synopsis: natasha finds a way to to lure you out; and, a confrontation.

warnings: canon violence

word count: 3.8k

a/n: last part wooo!!! i’m so glad this idea is fully written out now after sitting in the dungeon for like 2 years.

PART I, PART II

Natasha had known pain like any other feeling.

The Red Room ensured her a lifetime's worth of it. But rarely, though, has she ever felt the pain of betrayal. Perhaps the Sokovia Accords had given her a taste, but it was nothing compared to when she looked you in the eyes, knowing that you had just tried to kill her.

"I'm sorry for everything," you had said. So easy to just say sorry as if that would solve everything.

Was everything you and her had together all a lie? A part of the scheme created by whoever was sick enough to be behind all of it? You had been the perfect little spy, Natasha should have known.

She let her emotions compromise the Avengers.

"Well?" She turned around when she saw Steve walk into the common lounge. He was still in his suit, meaning he must have just returned from patrol.

"Still no sign of Y/N or VULCAN's location," he replied. "Tony's saying we attempt to catch another android. Only this time, we make sure we get whatever information we need out of it."

"That won't work", Nat shook her head. "Those things are airtight. Their programs won't allow it."

The Captain pursed his lips, watching his teammate and friend stare at the monitor displaying your information. "Nat." He spoke quietly.

She stayed silent. If only I had been more vigilante, she wanted to say.

"There was no way you could have known." Steve sighed, setting his shield down by the table. "She managed to fool everyone."

Natasha chewed at her lower lip, looking to the ceiling to stop the wetness from spilling out of her eyes.

"I let her fool me," she exhaled. "I won't let it slide."

"What's your play?" Steve asked.

"I racked my brain, trying to understand why. Why infiltrate us? Why get close to me?" Natasha turned to him. "And then I got it. They want to create an army, but not just any army; an army of androids. Think Ultron's army, but each of them possesses the same intelligence and mental capacity that humans do. That's what Y/N is, a perfect soldier."

"So how do we stop 'em? Can't be as easy as punching our way in like we did with Ultron," Tony appeared from the doorway with a mug in his hand. "I mean we don't even know where they are."

"There’s something that I haven’t told you, about my past,” Nat pursed her lips before she continued. “In the Red Room, they used a formula to control our minds. The other day, I checked my laptop for a file disguised as the real formula. Sure enough, it had been copied, no doubt by Y/N when I wasn’t looking.”

“So she doesn’t have the real formula?” Steve asked.

“Which means we still have some leverage.” Tony said grimly. “We need to hurry before we lose that too.”

Natasha inhaled warily and nodded. She wasn’t used to being on the losing side, and she would you just what it felt like to be backed in a corner.

It was easy for you to adjust to your new position at VULCAN. With the data from the Red Room retrieved and in Caesar's possession, you became his favorite among his human and android soldiers. Instead of your regular civilian clothes, you were now dressed in dark and tight clothing fit for a spy. A real spy, that's what you were now.

As you approached his office, the guards by the door saluted and granted you entrance without a word. Caesar was looking out the window wall behind his desk, his back facing you.

"16."

"Sir." You lifted your chin. "Batch PF200 has just finished being assembled. They should be ready to be deployed in a few days."

"Good," Caesar said, unmoving. You took that as a sign to be dismissed, but as you turned to leave, he spoke up. "Wait."

You straightened up again. "Do you remember why I created VULCAN?"

"To create a better world, sir." You answered without hesitation. "To arm the world with intelligence void of human errors."

"Correct, and yet," he turned to face you, his eyes hard and dark. "All you've done ever since you were activated is FAIL!"

His sudden outburst made you jump out of your skin. Your breathing quickens as you watch him pull out a USB from his pocket, and toss it on the table. It was the one you handed him.

"It's a fake." He gritted his teeth.

"B-But, I thought—" You sank to your knees with a scream as a volt of electricity coursing through your body in an instant. Looking up, you saw Caesar with a remote in his hand, his knuckle turning white at how hard he was pressing it.

"Where is the real file?!" He shouted over you.

"I-I don't know, I thought that was the real file! I took it off of Natasha Romanoff's personal computer." You blurted out quickly.

"I ordered you to kill the Black Widow, and you fail, but this?! This was the whole reason I brought you online!" You flinched at his tone, as you doubled over on the floor. Caesar had never treated you like this before. It made you fear whatever punishment came next.

"I'm sorry, sir," you uttered meekly, your legs still spasming preventing you from getting back up.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he shook his head. "It seems there might still be some . . . shortcomings in your program. That would be my fault, I failed. You're a failure, 16."

You swallowed and pushed yourself up, your legs still wobbling but you stood, though your eyes were stained with tears. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." You wanted to sound firm, to make Caesar believe that he could trust you again. Without Caesar's trust, what did you have left?

"No, it won't." He said bitterly and leaned into you. "You are a weapon, 16, and you will be of use in that front. You will kill, and you will be good at it. As for your well-roundedness, well . . ."

Caesar walked over to the adjacent wall, and pressed a button next to it. The wall unblurred and revealed a lab below where engineers were working tirelessly on another android model. Its left arm and leg weren't yet connected to the rest of the body, parts of them laying at the side. The torso was bare, still revealing the metal underneath the skin that would be put on. But its face was what caught your attention; it was as if you were staring at another version of yourself, a disembodied jumble that was still blissfully asleep.

"I've been working to improve you, 16," Caesar said, looking down proudly at his creation. "The Winter Soldier program shocked and froze its Soldiers to keep them in line, but they’d never truly have control over them. I have the resources to start anew each time the current one becomes faulty.

This is model FD700-17, your successor. It will be faster, stronger, more intelligent, and most important of all, absolutely void of human errors. Perfection."

Your eyes burned, your extremities ached from the current, your heart broken in half. Why did you ever think that you weren’t expendable? You were a machine, and there was always going to be something else coming along to replace you. Maybe being with Natasha made you feel special, like you could live a life. None of that mattered anymore.

“I have a lead on the real formula, sent by the Black Widow herself.” Caesar came up behind you. “Tick tock, 16, or your next stop will be the scrap metal yard.”

The address Natasha sent lead you to an abandoned warehouse by the piers. It was clever, no one ever has business here, and those that do usually wishes to keep their presence under the radar. You walked in cautiously, hand on the gun you had by your belt. You armed yourself generously; every pocket you had you had put something sharp in it, not that you planned on using it on Nat.

By the time you reached the third floor, you stilled your movements to listen to your surroundings, but all you heard was water dripping from rotten pipes and the sound of the city in the distance.

“If I had known it’d be this easy to smoke you out, I wouldn’t have bothered with all the patrolling we’ve been doing the past few weeks,” you heard a voice spoke behind you.

Turning around, you saw her standing where you came in, dressed in her combat suit, her hair braided and by her shoulders. Behind her, you could see the hilts of her machetes peaking out. She wore a teasing smile on her face like nothing happened.

“You expecting a fight?” You called out.

“Just being cautious.”

“Are we alone?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” It was a big feat asking that after all the deception that you’ve done. Humans tended to not be rational after they’ve been lied to, thinking that transparency isn’t warranted on their end. You expected it from Natasha.

“Where’s the disk, Natasha?”

She pulled it out and held it up in between her fingers. “You mean this?”

What you didn’t expect was for her to toss it over to you, just like that. What you needed was in your hands. You looked at the formula in your hands; you’d had to give up your humanity for this.

“Everything you need is on there, or rather, your maker does,” she said.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because I trust that you’ll do the right thing,” she spoke, her eyes soft and empathetic. “I know that if you really wanted to give it to your maker, you could have a long time ago. Something’s holding you back, that’s your humanity, Y/N.”

“That’s not my name.” You shook your head. “I-I don’t have a name.”

“You can still make the right decision,” she took a step closer. “Help us take Caesar down, help me.”

“And then what?” You scoffed humorlessly. “What place do I have in the world? I was made to kill, Natasha. I was made to sabotage and kill you until he decided that I wasn’t good enough. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not good enough.”

“I know you don’t think I know how you feel, but I do.” Natasha looked at you. “Okay? I do. I was made to be a weapon too, one my own handler could just discard if he felt like he didn’t need me anymore. You’d find that a lot of us have similar stories, but we can’t let them win, Y/N. We deserve a chance to live too.”

Her eyes were stained with tears. “You’ve made my life worth living.”

You were crying too, but your tears were synthetic. You had a chance once, but you didn’t go down that path, and now you were here.

Now you were here.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been stalling.” You spoke quietly.

A loud explosion sounded outside the building, rattling the entire structure. The sound of helicopter blades swarming and landing cut through the night.

“We got incoming, Nat!” You heard Steve’s voice through her intercom.

“So much for being alone,” you utter coldly, and turned on your heels to escape.

There was a loud shriek, a sound of metal giving out. You looked back, and the floor was collapsing in front of you, a dark pit opening up ready to swallow Natasha with it. You didn’t think. You leapt towards the edge, and extended your hand hoping you’d be fast enough to catch her. When she looked up, her face was covered in dirt and grime, in her eyes a rare display of fear.

Whenever you decided to go against your program, your head becomes warm, your body becomes limp, and your judgment slows. It was so debilitating that you sometimes feel as if you had no control over your body at all, your mind screaming at you to obey, obey, obey. And yet you gathered your strength. Yet, you pulled her to safety.

Your superhuman strength and the momentum at which you hoisted her upwards threw her onto the other side of the floor, her body hitting the ground with a thump.

“He won’t let me go,” you knew either way you would die, but it would be by Caesar’s hand.

Without a word, she took your hand and jumped out the window as the rest of the building sunk into a pile of rubble.

The rest of the Avengers quickly assembled around her, but hesitated once they saw you.

“Hey, kid.” Tony floated above the others. “Your room at the Compound’s still vacant. Why don’t you come back with us?”

You laughed, and sat back, still reeling from the impact. You almost missed the searing pain that pierced your side of a bullet fired from distance.

“Y/N!” Natasha gasped.

Your eyes followed the bullet’s line of projection. There it stood, the image of what Caesar wanted you to be, what you could have been but never would be.

FD700-17.

Its eyes were cold and hard, as it holstered the gun it used to shoot you.

“At last, the Avengers.” He reveled in the moment, but scowled when he turned to you. “I should have known you would betray me sooner or later.”

“We’ve done this dance before,” Tony shrugged. “We’ll do it again.”

“Eyes up, guys.” Steve said and charged. 17 was the exact replica of you, and therefore smaller in stature than him, yet it blocked his fist like it was nothing and sent him flying back with a single punch.

Caesar cackled beside it as his army of androids lined up behind him.

“Leave it to me.” You stood up, the bullet materializing out of your stomach. You palmed it and tossed it aside.

17 charged like a bull that saw red. Its punches were heavy and skillful, but familiar. You realized that Caesar had used the same combat program for 17 that he used for you. You matched each other stride for stride, like fighting a mirror.

“You disobeyed Caesar,” it voiced, eyes blazed. “You’ve become weak.”

You managed to block a right hook but didn’t see a knee coming up to thrust into your open wound. You sank to your knees with a cry of pain. You felt a hand grab you by your hair and drag you towards a piece of broken scaffolding that perked up from rubble. It attempted to press your neck into it, its strength overbearingly dominant over your injured body.

“But don’t worry,” 17 seethed. “I’ll take your place.”

You used the last of your strength, fueled by fury, to push back. A headbutt sent 17 stagger back, and you grabbed its head and reversed the position that you were in mere seconds before.

“There’s too many of them!” You heard Clint cry out in the distance.

“Keep going! Don’t quit!” Sam called back as he slammed his wings into one of the androids.

17 was stronger and pushed you back, then proceeded to pummel you hard. When it was done, you noticed half of the shell on your face—the one that gave you your human appearance—had fallen off.

“Traitor!” 17 yelled. “You’re ignorant of the good that Caesar could be doing to the world. You don’t understand his cause!”

“Is that what he’s been telling you?” You managed to utter, spitting out blood. “‘Cause he told me that I was his favorite. That’s what he does. Why do you think I’m number 16, you’re 17? Once he’s bored of you, he’ll toss you aside like you’re nothing.”

For the first time, you saw the corner of 17’s lips perk up. “So naive. This is why you’re no good. I would not let these petty emotions get the way of my service. I will die knowing I’ve serve my purpose.”

It’s got the upper hand, not having an open wound in a spot where it would hurt with every turn of the body. You were staggering when 17 charged towards you, hugging your stomach to slam you down on the ground with a thud. It clamped you down by straddling your midsection.

“So long, 16.” 17 said, pointing a gun at your forehead. You closed your eyes and waited for judgment.

“No!” A scream sounded from afar, then the sound of metal hitting 17 above you. It was Natasha. You opened your eyes, and redirected the gun away from you, just as it went off. In a split second, you had disarmed 17, and had it under your boots.

With a swift precision, you fired into its forehead, the left side of the chest where the synthetic heart would be.

“Too slow, junior.” You muttered, looking down at the corpse of your successor.

“16!” You heard a yell. Turning around you saw Caesar bleeding from his temple, keeping Natasha in a headlock, a gun pointed to her head.

“Let her go!” Tony held out a hand that would fire a rocket at him.

Caesar snickered. “You’ll never understand the magnitude of what I could have achieve with VULCAN, you never will.” He turned to you. “You’re too human for that.”

You sucked in a breath. “I refuse to be your machine.”

“Oh. Is that so?” He squeezed the barrel of the gun into Natasha’s temple, earning a squirm from her as she tried to free herself. “All because of her? She’s barely human. All the things she’s done, all the blood she’s spilled. I’d be almost tempted to take her back, pull her apart and put her back together to become a worthy soldier of mine.”

“It’s over, Caesar. You have nowhere else to run.” You staggered closer. “Let her go if you don’t want to be locked up in the Raft for the rest of your life”.

He took a step back, almost reaching the edge to plummet into the Hudson River. Steve blocked his right next to Clint, while Tony raised his arms feom the left flank. He was completely cornered.

“See, this is why you think you can be human, but you never will be.” Caesar growled, a wild grin on her face, blood caked on his white hair. “I’m your maker, I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

He didn’t let you respond before aiming the gun at his own head. When he fell to the ground and his head hit the asphalt, he was dead.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and suddenly the pain of all the injuries you carried. You didn’t even have half of your face plate anymore, lost somewhere under scraps of the fight.

“Nat . . .” You shuddered, and walked over to her. You hesitated and stopped a few paces before her, but she threw herself at you, locking you in a tight embrace.

She let out a tearful laugh when she pulled back, examining your injuries.

You felt your breath getting more shallow as the second passed. Your oxygen compartments have been punctured, and you saw the warning in your vision: “Life functions critical, be advised to return to base for repair.”

You thought you might have lost your balance and collapsed, but Natasha caught you in time. You rested your head on her lap, your right eye had completely malfunctioned, and you could only see that Nat were crying from the peripheral of your left.

“Life functions critical, be advised to return to base for repair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, but you did know if your voice was strong enough for her to hear.

“Shh, stop talking,” she refused to meet your eyes, scanning your battered body, and grasping your hand, “reserve your strength.”

“I wish we could have met under different circumstances,” you smiled, but you barely see anymore. “I wish I could have been . . . someone you deserved.”

“You were everything I wanted and more,” Natasha spoke, then rummaged through her pocket. “See this? See this, Y/N? That’s for you.”

She held the ring in front of you, but your eyes were glazed, and staring past her towards the night sky.

“Y/N?” She whispered, like a prayer, like it would somehow pull you back to her. “Tony! Please.”

The man came by your side, but somehow he knew that it was too late.

When you were activated, you didn’t have a mission. The first emotion you thought you could register was surprise. Why don’t I have a purpose?

You were laying in a bed in a room, one that you thought you had been in before. Its design was modern, sleek, yet elegant with great feng shui. Where were you? You sat up carefully, feeling refreshed and relaxed, as if you had just woken up from a well-deserved sleep. Whatever happened before you slept, you had no recollection of.

The door clicked open, a woman with red hair and an older man with dark hair entered. She had a look of timidness when she came closer, and judging by the lack of confidence in her stance, you assumed she meant you no harm.

“Hey, kid. Glad to have you back.” The man said with a smile. You scanned your database, no memory of him whatsoever.

“You know me?” He nodded. You didn’t even know who you were.

You looked at your hands, your fingers. They curled and uncurled with exceptional speed and precision.

“Nanotechnology. Impressive” You concluded. “Are you my maker?”

The man laughed, and shook his head. “No. Just someone with a knack for electronics, and tried to fix you up.”

You turned to the woman who has been silent this entire exchange. There was a name. “You’re . . . Natasha.”

This came as a surprise to her. She gasped as her eyes began to fill with tears. “Yeah, that’s me,” she said. “How did you know that?”

You shrugged. “It’s the only thing in my database. Why is that?”

There was a lightness that washed over you the moment you said her name, like a bout of heavy rain washing away all the weight of the world, purging you then making room for a new beginning, a fresh start.

Memory was a funny thing like that. Her name must have been the only thing salvaged from your last iteration.

Natasha.

You had no mission, yet you were here. No purpose, yet you were here. Figured, you would make your own purpose in the world, and you knew just where to start.

[bau-drabbles]

Do you think you could write something with like.. hurt/comfort? Like reader has a bad mental health day or they wake up completely in panic after a nightmare, and Aaron or Spencer is there to comfort them?

Btw I love your writing so much!! I hope you have a good day!! 💕

i loved this request so much babe, the past weeks have been rough. enjoy <33

the day had been rough on you, hotch noticed when you came in through the doors. he watched you, removing your shoes into comfier slippers and giving a little wave to jack before you looked at him. he smiled and you followed but it never reached your eyes. it felt like clockwork, something a part of your routine. nothing felt, no meaningful gestures behind it. just an act to complete and repeat until you slept and awoken the next day

"are you hungry? we could order in-" hotch stands, removing the end of his tie from his sons tight grasp. he looks to you but you look so far away from here, disappearing into another world of your own. somewhere where he can't follow. and then it hurts that you're blocking him out.

"no i'm not hungry but thank you though. you guys eat, night" you ran up the stairs before he could question you. hoping it would give you enough time to settle into yet another night of restless sleep

•••

"goodnight buddy, i love you" hotch gently tucks his one year old beneath the covers. the eyes of the small boy slowly closes. he watches for a moment, a gentle kiss to his temple and then with that, hotch sneaks away like a thief in the night making his way to you.

there you were sitting, on the bed staring into space. your eyes held so much sadness, he could practically see it radiate from you. like you were trapped all alone in a little bubble nobody could get you out from.

"hey you okay?" hotch asks softly, leaning against the door. you don't even turn, your hands covering your face for a second until you meet his gaze. let him in, please

"i'm fine hotch, just fine" the first sign was the use of his last name, it was never hotch. it was always aaron to you, always by his first name. he knows you're pulling away from him but when you both entered this relationship, he promised you'd never be alone. and he'd be damned if he broke that tonight

so he removes his blazer first, loosening his tie. his eyes doesn't move from you, his feet slowly making their way to you. wary of any loud sounds to wake up jack but to also prevent you from taking off again

"what are you doing?" you snarled, something you never did to him. he could sense the hostility from a mile away but he knows this dance, he's invented it. he knows you're shutting him out and he won't allow you. underneath the lamp, he notices your eyes watering. how you're trying to be strong, not to show any emotions and it's breaking him that you need to do this in front of him.

he opens his arms slowly as he approaches you and you're beginning to back away. your eyes are watering, god it had been so long since your heart felt as ease. and you always felt so awkward expressing your problems to hotch. he rescued lives, he's seen the worst of humanity and to say what had been bothering you felt so minimal. it felt so ridiculous to compare struggles. and against your better judgement, you soaked it all up. bottled it into nice and neat compartments. refused to even acknowledge them, if you didn't see them, they didn't exist. and there they remained, overflowing and drowning you every chance they could spare.

you smell his cologne, his warmth invading your senses. he was a couple feet away and you desperately hoped to get away. each one of those barriers were breaking by the second, your resolve was beginning to dissipate into the air and the overwhelming feeling of sadness was threatening to swallow you whole.

"what's wrong y/n?" he asks again, standing a hair away from your frame. you glare at him, pressing him back but he doesn't move.

"i'm fine, leave me alone!" your voice trembles, the lump in your throat making it near impossible to speak but you remained firm. until he reached slightly down and hugged you close to his chest. your curled fists bang against his chest but it barely budged him.

"aaron..." you warn but the tears slipped down your cheeks and you crumbled in his arms. the comfort shocked you and the world seemed it had stilled for a moment. the heaviness on your chest had loosened for a second and you broke down completely, the wall protecting you from the torture of your own emotions had splintered into a million pieces.

you clung to hotch like he was your lifeline, the silent brutal sobs rocked your frail form making it difficult to breathe. the tears were staining his shirt but his bigger muscular arms continued to hold you steady, anchoring you in the turbulent sea. each pained cry that leaves your lips felt like a dagger to aaron's heart but he doesn't falter. his arms are your sanctuary, where your guard is lowered and you show your vulnerability. where for once you can show the emotion that has plagued your mind and soul for so long. where he can help you, sit by you and comfort you as long as you needed it.

he holds you tight, stroking your back until you felt ready to say something. until you felt comfortable to say the first word. but until then, he would sit beside you in silence holding your hand. you weren't alone, never with him around.