#i somehow feel like making it through that fic to the end means now i've got the power

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

this is so dorky but i think writing that really long succession fic last summer/fall fundamentally fixed me

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

[luna-lovegreat]

Wait...

It's November. It's November first. Yesterday was October 31st, so October is over. ...it's over. Is it over?

Inktober, artober, whumptober, flufftober, linktober, every tag ending with -tober that's been circulating for the past month... is it over? I don't know why it's just hit me but...

This matters. So I will try to get the message across, even though I'm not the best at it sometimes

Fanartists, fan writers, artists, fic writers, people making comics, every single one of you that has created art for the past month...

Thank you

This is my first October on tumblr. When I started seeing the "tober" tags, seeing the posts from artists with wips, saying they were going to make something every day to a prompt, making masterposts to update with each day, I thought "cool"

But every day this month, I have gotten on here and smiled.

And I don't mean smiled. I mean I smiled at least 20 times every time I got on the app because I saw all the art and fics. I got to see artists/writers connect stories through different day prompts. I saw people having the most brilliant ideas and creativity, flowing from their hands into their posts. I saw artists responding to continuous asks, telling them how amazing they are. I saw artists getting behind, and keeping going.

I saw Free. Beautiful. Emotional. Amazing. Original. Creative. Art.

Every day

I haven't committed to anything of this before, so I can't directly relate to what you guys were thinking and feeling. But I'm willing to guess; I think you probably enjoyed it, because most won't do such a huge project unless they enjoy it. I think you probably saw it as a challenge you were willing to fulfill, and an opportunity to grow and develop your skills.

... but I'm also willing to bet you did it for us. For people like me, who love art, but don't do this specific type, who are in fandoms, who love tracking and watching you art and sending you compliments, who take joy in your work. For the other artists (and writers!) who admire each others styles and love to learn from each other.

If anyone ever tries to tell me that humans are inherently evil again, I will strap them to a chair, pull up these posts and say look. Look at what these people did. Look me in the eyes and tell me these sorts of actions don't come from the most loving hearts. Tell me these people don't want to make others happy, that they aren't inherently good. And I will tell you you're wrong.

I have so much going on, yet somehow it slipped into my life that I was constantly looking at your art for the joy of it without me even noticing.

And how is it possible. That we have such a beautiful community of people here that we will share. And communicate. And exchange compliments. And literally do things and send asks solely for the purpose of making someone smile.

I'm almost crying by now. God I can't express it well enough! But I am so. So. Grateful

You guys brought me a month of joy! You gave headcanons, and art, and stories!

Even yesterday, Halloween, I was blown away. Because I had expected... I didn't expect anything. And then I log on and see people sending happy halloween asks, exchanging doodles of candy, and headcanons and gifs.

And some are still catching up to the schedule or whatever, and that's ok! But at the beginning of this post, when I was simply realizing it was November, I asked myself "is it over?"

Is it over?

... I don't think so. I've seen artists say they're going to continue and expand on a piece they made and especially liked this month. Some people are still continuing, catching up to a voluntary deadline. All those masterposts with your whump/fluff/link/ink tober art? I know many as well as myself will be going through, looking over your posts with smiles, catching up on some things they missed this month... it will continue in the people and artists I didn't know existed before, but now follow. In the skills and growth in creativity! In the community we've grown, and art you've made, and the art to come, at a normal rate like every other month, even if it's not October anymore!

But my artists, writers... thank you so much. I don't know if you guys know how valuable and amazing you are. How incredible it is that you exist! People say it's amazing we exist under a sky of such stars, but how incredible is it that you made a stranger on the internet smile every day! Your life is so. So. Valuable. I can't even express how grateful I am that you exist, that you somehow are selfless enough to share the most beautiful parts of yourself simply to create, and to create joy. Thank you so so much.

(And this applies to all artists, in any fandoms, not just mine. And I'm just as grateful to people who couldn't do something every day, or only one day! You still share your art, you're just as... incredible. You are incredible.)

Okay.

So I'm gonna do this, and if others want to do it in the reblogs that's great! I do not care at all about reblogging or likes, but I want to make the people that have brought me such joy some appreciation- I hope I can bring you even a smidgen of the light you have brought into my life. So I'm gonna tag all the artists/writers I know of/can think of that have done any sort of October challenge, all of you creators that have made me smile. If people wanna want to tag others in the reblogs or replies to spread love that's cool.

(Basically I don't know social customs or anything at all, so if you don't want me to tag or if I was supposed to do something different or something let me know I have no idea what I'm supposed to do)(if I like accidentally tagged someone who isn't an artist/writer or forgot someone I follow... sorry)

@skyward-floored @kikker-oma @adrift-in-thyme @blueskittlesart @zeldaseyebrows @smilesrobotlover @bahbahhh @soso-dedeck @lennsart @arecaceae175 @illcamp @breannasfluff @solarfire-art @26kabeuchi @cathianemelian @truffeart @scribbly-z-raid @uniquevoidflowers

To all the artists and writers out there: thank you so much!!! You are amazing and I'm glad you exist. Your life is precious, and you matter. Thank you so much for sharing your beauty with us, we love you too!!!!!

... yeah. Just want yall to feel loved... because you are. Again, thank you. Thank you so so much to my beautiful creators who create joy as well as art, who keep storytelling alive. Just... thank you.

:)

[colorfulbard]

Sacrifice

‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿

Summary♥︎ A forced visit to Whole Cake Island takes a turn for the worst when Big Mom is experiencing hunger pangs while Katakuri is away on a mission.

Pairing♥︎ Katakuri x Fem!Reader

warnings♥︎ Reader has kids with Katakuri, angst at the end

a/n♥︎ I've been starving for some more Katakuri fics so I had to take matters into my own hands. I put that warning because I know some people don't like reading fanfic where the reader has kids. Don't worry there will be a part 2!

‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿

People always say, "practice makes perfect". That means, the more you do something, the better you'll be. Like baking, for example. If you practice making the same for over twenty years, you would be considered an expert. You might even be running through the steps on autopilot.

But, no matter how many times you've dealt with this scenario, it never became easier. Honestly, it felt harder to deal with each time.

An easy going saying like, "practice makes perfect", doesn't apply when dealing with a tyrannical emperor with deadly hunger pangs.

The steps taken when it began never changed. All high ranking officials were to report to the surveillance room, turn on the video snails, and give orders to anyone available at the Chateau.

Those down at the Chateau were to remain clear of Big Mom and evacuate any and all innocent citizens.

After many, many years, those steps were done in no time at all. And yet, the sick feeling of fear in your stomach never subsided. Your hands were pinned under your arms to keep from biting your nails. Too bad that didn't stop you from biting your lip instead.

You truly hated traveling to the main island for this reason. You longed for your home, back at Komugi island. The one you shared with your husband, Katakuri, and your fifteen children. Peace and quiet may be impossible to come by, but dealing with a child's temper tantrum was preferable to Big Mom's.

Having to deal with this on your own only made your bitter feelings towards the Whole Cake Chateau grow. The initial plan was to travel together, you and Katakuri. He knew how nervous being alone with his mother made you. But those plans were squandered when Big Mom ordered all ministers gather ingredients for her blasted wedding cake. Then, to make matters worse, he was called away on another mission.

Now, because of that string of unfortunate events, he somehow convinced you to bring your two oldest sons with you, Warabiko and Manju. For some reason, you had said yes. Probably just to ease his mind. In return, your mind was not at ease. It was filled to the brim with anxiety.

You took a slow, deep breath. "And we're sure it's not possible to catch the croquembouche that checked out this morning?" You asked slowly to keep your voice steady.

"It doesn't seem plausible. Either way it'd be a half hour."

You wanted to open your mouth to argue, but it was too difficult. The screams of the terrified homies made it impossible to focus. Those screams were keeping you in a continuous state of unease. You couldn't be selfish and mute the video feed. It was imperative for everyone to hear what was happening.

Big Mom was getting further away from the current video snail. It was time to play the waiting game and see when the feed would switch. You looked down at the floor for a moment of respite from staring at the rampaging Emperor.

You clenched your eyes shut. The screams were distant now, but you could still hear them. Your mind unwillingly imagined it as your sons. You knew they were somewhere safe, away from harm. You made sure of that before you reported to the surveillance room. Even so, as the screams continued, your mind took you the worst possible scenario.

You let your head tilt down to face the floor. At least then, if you somehow managed to open your eyes, you wouldn't be facing the screen.

'Kata... Please, come back to me soon..' Tears began to form behind your eyelids when you thought of him. You needed him to be here.

A hand softly landed on your shoulder in an attempt to not startle you. You took that as a nonverbal sign that the video feed switched. You glanced over your shoulder to see Tamago's hand, but he wasn't looking at you. His eyes were locked onto the screen, his mouth agape.

Your brows furrowed, he always seemed much more coolheaded than you in these scenarios, so, why did he look so spooked? Before checking the footage, you glanced at everyone in the room. Their expression matched Tamago's. The air in the room was tense, as if your anxiety had seeped out of your body and infected everyone else.

You finally looked towards the screen. The scene was the same except Big Mom was getting further away. Homies were still trampled and distant screams could be heard as she trampled over more. But you didn't even notice any of those things.

When you spotted what everyone else was staring at, you froze. Your muscles were locked.

Right there, where Big Mom was stomping through moments ago, stood your eldest son. You couldn't see his face, his back was facing away from the snail. He held onto his sword tightly. It was a gift from you and Katakuri on his eighteenth birthday.

Your hand moved on its own to cover your mouth in shock, the other moved to your stomach. Were you breathing? You couldn't feel anything.

Your head shook from side to side. "No." You whimpered.

Static flickered through the screen and then showed an enraged Big Mom rampaging. You breathing hitched when the sight of your son was gone. The silent scene of your son's determination was replaced by helpless homies getting eaten or stomped on.

Every second that was wasted staring, your son was getting closer to Big Mom. Without wasting anymore time, you pushed Tamago's hand from your shoulder and ran out of the room.

The state of the room remained the same as you left. Everyone stayed silent as they continued watching the footage. Too anxious to see what might happen next.

~

When Warabiko finally reached Big Mom, he was horrified. All of citizens of Whole Cake were terrified, running for their lives lest they be squashed under her heel. He had never seen this happen. He now understood why his family's trips to Whole Cake never lasted more than a day.

He remembered that whenever a tea party was held for one his newest siblings, you demanded to leave as soon as it was over. No matter how much his siblings whined about being tired and wanting to sleep on land, you put your foot down. This was his first time being here for over a day, much to your chagrin.

When he grew older and more mature, you told him stories of his grandmother's famous hunger pangs. The stories were short and brief. He could tell you didn't like talking about them. He finally understood why as he watched Big Mom rampage with reckless abandon.

Something in his gut told him to turn back now and hide with his brother. He ignored that feeling. He couldn't stand by and do nothing. With his father away on a mission, the duty of evacuating citizens and calming Big Mom fell on his shoulders. He was going to make his father proud.

Fighting her was out of question, but he could try and reason with her. She had to be willing to listen to his first grandchild, right?

Her path of destruction was never-ending as he got closer to her. He had to be careful. It was clear that when she's this hungry, all of her sense was gone. She didn't care who or what was in her way during her search.

It didn't even matter if it was an innocent little girl. She hadn't even tripped over the rubble, she had tripped over her feet trying to keep up with her mother. The mother hadn't even noticed, too terrified to look back.

The girl shakily stood on her feet and rubbed the debris from her knees. Her heard swayed from side to side to try and spot her mother. She had no idea Big Mom's foot was inches away from crushing her.

Warabiko immediately lunged towards Big Mom's feet and grabbed the girl. He landed on his feet and placed the girl on the ground.

The girl looked up and smiled up at her savior. "Thank you so much!" She cheered, "that was fun!"

She acted like she wasn't just moments away from being killed. Warabiko smothered his feeling of shock down and sighed. "Run away from her and find your mother. It's not safe," he instructed.

The girl nodded with a giggle and ran off, far from Big Mom.

Whilst Warabiko had dealt with the girl, Big Mom had busied herself with eating any homie or building in her way. Her anger grew as each thing she shoved down her throat tasted nothing like her craving.

"Where is it?!" She whined, "where is my croquembouche?!" She punched another building. Nothing but croquembouche could placate her.

"Mama, please! You just have to wait! The chefs will be here soon!"

Warabiko recognized the voice as one of his uncle's, Mont-d'Or. Another one of his uncle's and aunt led citizens away in the opposite direction.

Nothing Mont-d'Or said got through her to her. He was too far away for her to care. Warabiko's jaw clenched and he ran to stand in front of her, arms out. "Grandma, please! You have to stop!" He pleaded.

Big Mom paused and locked eyes with the source of the sound. She snarled and clenched her fist, "who's there?" She questioned.

Warabiko's brows furrowed and he could feel himself grow warm. "I-It's me! Grandma, it's Warabiko!" His voice grew higher in pitch, his hands began to shake, "don't you recognize me?" The question was practically a whisper.

Big Mom growled and swung at where he stood. Warabiko was able to dodge, but not without losing his footing. He fell onto scattered rubble and grunted when it dug into his back.

Mont-d'Or's mouth was open wide in shock the moment he saw Warabiko enter the fray. "M-Mama! Wait!" He pleaded, coming closer. "You have to stop! It's Warabiko! Your grandson!"

Big Mom paid Mont-d'Or's pleading no mind. She was still infuriated that her search for croquembouche was interrupted. "Where is my croquembouche boy?!" She demanded. "All I want is my croquembouche!" She swung at the building next to Warabiko and ate the contents she managed to grab.

The remnants of her snack flew all around. Warabiko turned over on his side and cradled his head. He could hear it land all around him.

Mont-d'Or clenched his jaw as he watched Warabiko cradle himself. He couldn't go over there and try to save him, he'd end up dying too. He just hoped Warabiko was a fast runner.

"Warabiko, you have to run! You can't reason with when she's like this!" He yelled.

Warabiko lifted his head and looked towards his uncle. Judging by the way Mont-d'Or stared at him, he was sure his terror was plain as day. He couldn't move thanks to that terror gripping his muscles. It was affecting his brain, not allowing him to choose between fight or flight. Maybe Big Mom wouldn't pay him any mind if he stayed silent.

She was still there, right behind him. Warabiko didn't have to turn his head to know that. He could practically feel her breathing down his neck. The only part of his body that managed to move was his spine as shivers went down it. She wasn't moving away from him. Her gaze was burning into his back.

Big Mom's breathing grew stronger and he could smell the sweets emanating from it.

Warabiko somehow willed his head to move back to look at his grandmother. His next breath was caught in his throat when he locked eyes with her.

Her scowl was gone. In its place was a sickening grin. Her eyes were unrecognizable, they were glazed over and crazed. Drool was dripping down her chin and she stared at him.

She leaned closer to his face. "Life..." She whispered, giggling like a mad woman, "or treat?"

Warabiko couldn't answer even if he wanted to. The words were caught in his throat, choking him. He could only watch as his grandmother raised her first high in the air.

He knew what his grandmother's fruit was capable of, his father had told him. His father had probably hoped he would take it as a warning to stay away. Too bad he didn't listen.

Everything began to slow down. His mother's first was taking minutes to reach him and Mont-d'Or's yelling was indistinguishable. Typically, these were the moments where one's life would flash before their eyes. Oddly enough, that didn't happen. He only saw one thing. It was you. His sweet mother, smiling down at him. Your eyes crinkled as you smiled. They were the same color as his own. That was the only feature you two shared.

From his point of view, he could see his hands attempt to grab your face. They were so small here. He must've been a baby. This was a memory he didn't even realize he had.

You were giggling at his futile attempts. You brushed his cheek with your finger and began to sing.

La la lu

La la lu

Oh, my little star sweeper

Your voice was so soft and sweet. His eyes began to droop as your singing lulled him to sleep. The warmth of your arms was seeping through the soft blanket touching his skin. He recognized the blanket. It was his favorite, handmade by you. Each of siblings had one similar to it, a different color for each one.

He could feel you moving him about the room, swaying him. Through his half lidded eyes, he could see his father standing at the corner of the room. The scarf was gone, and he was smiling.

It was such a nice, warm memory. It was perfect for falling asleep. Warabiko kept forcing his eyes open to stay awake, but your voice was so comforting. It reminded him of the warm donuts you made, fresh out of the oven on a quiet morning.

There was no harm in closing his eyes, he'll see you again when he woke up. His small body went limp in your arms as his eyes began to close without fight.

His body was mere milliseconds away from relaxing into a comfy sleep. Until a sharp jab at his side forced him awake. The warmth of the memory was gone. Whatever it was that hit him launched far from where he previously was.

Warabiko was on high alert now. Big Mom was still angry, still searching for croquembouche. He shakily stood on his feet with a hand on the side where he was jabbed. He glanced back to where he remembered seeing his uncle's and aunt.

Physically, he could see they weren't hurt. But their faces held a different story. They were terrified, all color was drained from their faces. It was odd considering Mont-d'Or and Opera's skin tone.

Warabiko dared follow their gaze and he soon wished he hadn't. His heart stopped and ice filled his veins, making him freeze in place.

He didn't even notice nor hear Big Mom stomp away in the opposite direction, demanding croquembouche. In that moment, in his mind, everything was quiet.

A mirror image of his eyes was staring straight into his own. That familiar color he always saw in the mirror was drained away, and only white remained.

The only movement that was seen wasn't a sign of life. It was just your body falling to the ground. The sound of it reverberated throughout the whole Chateau.

Warabiko would hear that sound in his nightmares.

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: It's finally done, babes. This whole fic is so silly though, it's just Epel and reader bickering the entire time before their parents appear lol. Mind you the ending was going to be very different but like I've had so many ideas and so much time had already passed. I might write the alternative ending later though. Vil's nickname meaning btw: hase = bunny, Liebling = dear/darling & Sonnenschein = sunshine. Read part one here. @kingofspadesdelusion @harukishiyo

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, platonic + soft yanderes, sibling fight, hypnosis, memory loss, around 7k, half proofread.

The first thing you feel upon regaining consciousness is pain. It's unbearable, exploding in your chest as if someone repeatedly stabbed you and slowly peeled away your skin until only your bones were exposed.

Flames shoot through your spine, and coldness seeps into your bones. It feels like you've been run over by a tractor for hours, or fallen from an airplane — that's how much it hurts. Moans of pain escape your open mouth, but you don't have enough energy to open your eyes, at least not immediately.

There's a buzzing noise, a humming breaking the silence. Everything around you spins; you can feel it even with your eyes closed. A gentle hand holds yours, someone wraps your body in soft covers, there are screams, and a thick liquid falls into your mouth. Then, it's over.

But now, it's different somehow.

You still can't move, can't talk, can't open your eyes. It's like experiencing sleep paralysis.

Lying there, you try to remember what happened. Your memory is foggy, and trying to recall only makes your head hurt more. You grit your teeth and try again, harder, ignoring the pain.

It's like swimming against the waves—almost impossible. You force every inch of your cells to work, your lungs to take in air. You're trying so hard. You wish desperately for something, anything, to work.

Then, a light bulb goes off in your mind.

You remember the vampire pinning you to the ground, glass cutting into your skin, sweat and tears mixing, and a scream of pain escaping your lips as he bit you. After that, darkness and pain.

For several days following your transformation - assuming that's what it was - you wake and sleep deliriously, feverish, thirsty for blood, a viscous liquid spilling onto your lips until you calm down and sleep again. The cycle repeats.

It wasn't a nightmare? You bitterly think.

Heat surrounds you, but what makes your body tense is the sensation of someone behind you. Paying closer attention, you feel a faint, cold breath sending shivers down your back as you try to move your fingers and hands. But nothing happens; your limbs are too tired and weak from weeks of sleep.

Suppressing an angry noise, you slowly open your eyes to find yourself inside a transparent coffin on the ground — a glass coffin. It's dark, illuminated only by moonbeams through open windows. You hear laughter and soft music in the distance, the voices of two older vampires having fun. If you strain, you can even make out their conversation. But that's not what captures your attention; it's the fact that you can see in the dark, hear from such distances… You know what that means.

As minutes pass, you manage to move your fingers, then your hands, your entire torso, and finally your whole body. Your throat is dry as if you swallowed sand. You cough several times, waiting for enough saliva to swallow as you watch the creature resting beside you.

What lies there is proof that your torment was real, not just an incredibly lucid dream. Next to you sleeps the creature who turned you into a vampire because he wanted a sibling — a fragile figure with lilac hair falling into his eyes, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

He looks fragile, different. Hypothetically, you should be strong enough to kill him now, even if you're as hungry as hell. Your hands clench into fists.

The scent of blood still lingers, and even in the dark, you see small dry drops staining the corners of his shirt. This horrifying realization makes you move away, pressing your back against your side of the coffin as you stare at him.

At that moment, blood doesn't disgust you; instead, you feel the thirst returning, your fangs yearning to bite something. You want to rip and taste, need it, even your own wrists seem appetizing enough.

You knew it now — you were no longer human. The confirmation was painful. Humans couldn't see in the dark, hear sounds from kilometers away, or crave blood.

Yes, you were no longer human…

Memories of your former life flooded back — the fleeting joys, genuine tears. Those days were over. No more early mornings watching the sunrise, no more wrestling with friends, no warm hugs after a bad day. Your tongue would never taste your favorite foods and drinks again.

Eternity stretched before you like an abyss, closing in from all sides. You mourned the humanity you'd lost, wishing desperately to turn back time, to prevent your friends from entering that house. Your hand rested where your heart once beat, hoping in vain to feel its rhythm again, but all you felt was cold, the intense cold of a creature of the night, of an inhuman monster you had become.

Blood no longer flowed in your veins. You stared at your wrists for a while. You had been robbed.

You weren't one to cry easily in the face of adversity, always seeking solutions rather than succumbing to despair. But now, the weight of what had happened hit you fully, and thick tears rolled down your cheeks as you gazed at the boy peacefully asleep beside you.

Your friends were dead — all of them, food for the same assassins who had killed you to turn you into a beast like them.

Monster. You, him, them — all monsters.

Without hesitation, you forced the coffin lid open and leaped out. Your eyes distinguished different shades in the darkness surrounding you. It couldn't be real, you thought, not for you. You still had your whole life ahead, plans, dreams, it couldn't be happening…

But it was.

The voices faded, footsteps replaced by your brother's soft snore, the person responsible for your death, the culprit. Your hands clenched again, nails digging into flesh, but you ignored the pain. Closing the distance, you knew with his parents absent, the odds were in your favor.

After him, you'd plan to dispose of the other two, if it was the last thing you did. Brick by brick, breach by breach, you would destroy this mansion, decorate it with their guts and entrails.

Doubt flickered momentarily. Was this right? Was taking his life justified? You struggled with the realization of becoming a monster, yet hiding away in isolation wasn't living either. But returning home endangered those you cared for.

The hesitation evaporated. You had to do this, guilt or not. You weren't a murderer, but you'd be one soon enough. You'd stain your hands with his blood, with their blood.

Your movements were as light as the pillows you had rested on moments ago. Leaning over him, your trembling hands found his neck, cutting off his oxygen supply. It felt undeniably right.

Epel jolted awake, as if doused in ice water, eyes wide with terror, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he struggled. You tightened your grip, yearning to witness his life fade, to feel him weaken and falter, if only for a moment's respite.

He ended you on a whim. You would end him for your revenge.

"Not so smug now, are we?" you teased, your hands still shaking from the force of your grip, leaving crescent marks on his pale skin.

Panic painted his eyes, adrenaline surged through his veins, primal instinct urging him to fight for survival. As air escaped his lungs, his body reacted, muscles tensing.

"Look at me," You whispered to him, your voice sounding strange even to you. "I want to see the life leaving you when you die, as you had seen in mine when I died."

With a primal roar, Epel held onto your wrists, fingers digging into flesh as he fought to break free from the suffocating grasp. Every fiber of his being was focused on one singular goal: survival. Like a prey trapped in it's predator's maws.

Monster, human. Every species would always hope to survive. Or to run.

And sometimes... They fought back.

"You think you're so smart." He wheezed, an airy laugh leaving him. Its tone sounded so unnatural, so rough and dark, shivers went down your spine. You watched him closely, feeling like something was about to happen. Uncertainty dancing in your eyes as you tried to discern his next move.

With deliberate slowness, he straightened, his gaze piercing through the dim light with an intensity that made your heart race. "But cleverness alone won't save you," Epel murmured, his voice low and laden with a hint of menace.

Despite his bluff, sweat beaded on his skin, mingling with the scent of fear and his limps weakinging. A groan left him.

"Perhaps not," You replied evenly, refusing to show any sign of weakness. "But it certainly makes for an interesting challenge, wouldn't you agree?"

He wheezed again, trembling. He flexed his legs and used them to try to unbalance you or push you away in an attempt to escape. A futile attempt, you were unmoving. Unwilling to even give him a chance.

Die already! You wanted to scream, wanted to rip his head with your fangs.

Epel's muscles strained against your hold, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggled against the encroaching darkness. He was looking at you with his big lilac eyes, hoping for mercy or something else. But gradually, his movements grew weaker, more labored, until finally, they ceased altogether.

He lay there limp, his body cold and lifeless — a portrayal of a defeated monster.

In that moment, the roles were reversed, the hunter became the hunted. A surge of relief washed over you as you watched over Epel's unmoving body. Your heart raced with the realization that you had prevailed, that the threat had been neutralized.

As you took in the scene before you, a wave of relief washed over you. The danger had passed, at least for now. And as you caught your breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in your ability to withstand the ordeal. Though your chest was heavy with something you couldn't quite put into words. Guilty? Sadness? You didn't know what it was.

Tiny tears slipped from your eyes and fell on his face. Dead. You killed him. You thought about what you were feeling as you slowly stood up. It wasn't guilty.

It was something more primal. Something you didn't quite understood.

You turned around as you walked straight to the door, your hand frozen while you held the handle. There was two more to go. Whatever this thing you were feeling was, it could wait a bit. You looked back one last time, a gasp leaving you.

You stood there, baffled. His body had vanished. Why? How? You scanned the room, searching desperately, but he was nowhere to be found. Do vampire bodies just vanished after death? Were he pretending?

You opened the door and ran with reckless abandon. You raced through the halls, the truth sinking in like cold claws upon your heart, you hoped for any and all silly hypothesis to be the one instead of the real one. Epel had staged his death with such cunning that even your new instincts had failed you. Wherever he was, his laughter echoed with a bitter edge of amusement at your expense.

He sounded like he was having the time of his life.

As you ran, your senses caught every whisper of movement, every hint of shadow, every murmur he made. The sound of owls hooting far away punctuated the night. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you turned yet another hallway, the eerie shadows seemed to move of their own accord, trying to catch you, to hold prisoner just as much as you already is. The corridors twisted and turned in a confusing maze, never-ending, forever stretching far away.

Then, suddenly, the laughter stopped. The silence was deafening, making your heart race even faster. You slowed your pace, trying to listen, straining to hear any sign of movement. The stillness was oppressive, the darkness closing in around you.

"You were too confident," Epel's voice reached you, his tone dripping with amusement. "I'II let you know that vampires can't breathe, though we do move our shoulders and "breathe" because we were so used to after turning. So you would never be able to kill me with your teeny little hands. It was cute that you tried though. I did the same thing after I was turned, not to my father, it was a human. An elder man... I think. My first victim."

Your fists clenched at your sides, looking around. "And? If I couldn't kill you there, I'II kill you here. I have all the time to try."

With that, he appeared from the shadows, a smirk growing on his lips. Epel laughed. "You are but a baby right now, weak and easily tired, dear sibling. I'm not even teasing you as it is the truth."

Anger flared within you, but you fought to keep your composure. You needed a clean, calm mind for now. "Oh, I'm not helpless," You retorted, stepping closer. "You won't get away this time."

Epel chuckled, a low, mocking sound that grated on your nerves. "We'll see about that."

In an instant, he moved, a blur of motion as he darted to the side, anticipating what he was about to do you launched yourself after him trying to catch him before he turned into shadows again but it was futile, he was gone just like that.

Like sand falling through your hands, so easily. You bit your lower lip angrily.

Every whisper of movement, every flicker of shadow, anything around you could be him. The empty, endless corridors seeming to play tricks on your mind again as you ran after him without really knowing if you were following the right direction, having losing sight of him as soon as he turned the corner.

The manor was different from the other, you could tell. Its wall made of wooden instead of brick, the sound produced by your steps was loud too. There was some torch holders attached to walls, which was a bad idea. But this was not important, not now at least.

Though it was certainly something you kept in mind. You could always burn this manor with the trio inside of it.

"Pss, here!" He called.

Ahead, you caught a glimpse of him turning a corner. You pushed yourself harder, running without ever feeling tired, running as freely as you could knowing that you wouldn't bump into things, the darkness inviting you to see through her. As you rounded the corner, you found yourself in an empty section.

You heard his laugh, so joyful. As if he felt funny how you were chasing him around like a kicked puppy who wanted to bite him.

You stopped, he was more faster than you because of his little trick. But maybe you could also use the shadows like he so effortlessly did? Was that even possible?

Well, he was doing it so it was possible. But how? You thought for what felt like hours, steady and still, still hearing whatever what's happening in case he took that opportunity to hit you.

You weren't bound by human rules; maybe you really could do it. Focusing your mind, you reached out to the darkness around you, willing it to envelop you, to make you one with the shadows, as if you were but a swimmer trying to be one with the water, feeling around, searching for something, anything at all.

You felt a brief chill, a sensation like the brush of icy fingers, and for a moment, you thought you had succeeded. But as you tried to step into the shadows, to melt away as Epel had done, nothing happened. You remained solid and visible, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Epel's laughter rang out louder than before, sharp and mocking.

"You're not ready for that yet," He said between giggles and wheezes, shaking his head. "It takes more than desire to command the shadows. You need understanding, control, and above all, experience. You're still just a fledgling."

"Shut up, this is all your fault" You insisted, trying to ignore the embarrassment burning within you. If anything, now you had to kill him for your honor too. "I'm going to find a stake and I'm going to fucking impale you with it."

He let out a low, mocking chuckle, the sound was as mischievious as he is. "Bold words for someone who can't even master the shadows," Epel teased, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think you can kill me? You're not even close to understanding what you're dealing with, so naive and self-assured, yapping endlessly about killing when I know damn well you can't stomach the thought of killing."

You heard something behind you and turned around immediately, ready to strike it with your bare hands and all anger bottled up on your chest. Nothing there, just another trick of his.

"But go ahead," He continued after being silent for a few minutes. "Try to find a stake, try to kill me. I'll enjoy watching you fail. Again."

His eyes glinted with a dangerous light, two lilac orbs glowing in the dark, promising chaos and pain, so unnatural to their usual sweet look. "And if you do manage to land a blow, remember this: I won't be so merciful next time. You're playing a dangerous game, sibling. One you can't win."

His form started dissolving into the darkness again when you surged forward, determined to not let him escape again, as the shadows swallowed both of you. You held onto his arm, wether because you were afraid of how fast you were moving or to ensure he wasn't going anywhere, you didn't know which was better. It was so strange, traveling through them, quick but unpleasant in a way you couldn't describe. You caught Epel staring at you, watching your expressions, before he regained control from the shadows and came to a stop, in a random room.

You were expelled from them with great force, hitting your back and shoulders against the wall, sending a few hanging pictures flying everywhere. While he landed perfectly fine on his own two feet.

"I hate you..." You groaned.

Epel's lips curled into a mocking smile, his fangs glinting in the dim light. "Hate me all you want, I don't care," He taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. He leaned in closer, his breath cold against your skin. "You're one of us now and the sooner you accept it, the better."

"I never wanted this," You spat, your voice trembling with a mix of rage and despair as you stood up. "You took my life on a stupid whim."

Epel's smile faded slightly, his expression growing more serious as he looked anywhere that wasn't your face. "I just... didn't want to be alone anymore," He admitted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his tone. "I love dad and father and they spoil me quite a lot but I miss having someone my age to talk to. We don't need to fight. We can be... Friends."

"Never," You snarled almost immediately, knowing well that you rather eat rocks and lava than be on amicable terms with him. Epel caught your wrist, his grip like iron.

"Maybe not today," He said softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "But one day, you'll see. We're connected now, bound by blood. You can't escape what you are, you can't escape me."

With a frustrated cry, You fought against him, kicking his shins and sinking your tiny, but sharp, fangs into his arms that held you, tearing at his flesh until it was a gruesome, bloody mess. Despite the blood trickling down your face, you refused to surrender, resolved to not go down without a fierce battle.

And Epel watched you with a mixture of pity and something that might have been hope. He truly hoped he could convince you through his words. He failed.

"Maybe when you wake up you'll be more receptive to seeing things from another point of view." He thought out loud , his voice almost gentle as he swiftly took hold of your hands, making impossible to escape from his grip even with you struggling and fighting. He simply didn't budge, almost as if he was made of iron, unmovable.

Epel's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of tranquility and determination burning brightly within them, as you felt your world swaying for as long as you stared at him.

"Sleep," Epel whispered, his hoarse voice echoing in the dimly lit room as dark spots started to dance upon your eyes. However, you refused to yield, turning your head defiantly to the other side so you couldn't be influenced by his hypnotic eyes.

You remembered reading once that vampires could influence people and you had no time to discover if this was real or not. Though without a doubt he was using hypnosis with you now but him himself wasn't strong, not in this at least. "Ah- stop, look at me. I command you to look at me."

Frustration and fear gnawed at you. He was playing a game and you were his unwilling participant. Again. You close your eyes instead. Your head swam but you fought against the pull of his hypnosis. Your mind was your own, and you refused to let him take that from you.

"What are you? A wizard?" You muttered back at him, holding back a laugh. "I command you to shut up."

Epel's eyes widened in annoyance, and he paused, his grip loosening just slightly. "Why do you resist? I'm trying to help you."

"Help me? Are you that dense?" You scoffed, breathing hard even though you didn't need it anymore. The motion was still too familiar, a reflex you hadn't yet forgotten even knowing well that was futile. You began counting to ten mentally, trying to calm yourself enough to think clearly. "You turned me into this... monster. I don't want your help. I didn't even wanted this. You just took my life without my permission."

Epel's expression hardened, a flash of hurt crossing his face before he masked it with anger, heavy accent dominating his tone. "You don't understand," He snapped. "I tried to be cool and gentle, yet ya ain't done a single thing if not grumple. I don't give a rat's ass if yer angry or sad, you're my kin now. An' we are your family, like it or not. You ain't goin' nowhere."

Epel's eyes darkened with a mix of rage and desperation, though his tone was filled more with frustration than regret. You felt uneasy for as long as he stared at you, feeling as if something was about to happen.

"I've played with you enough already," He growled.

Before you could react, Epel gripped your head with both hands and slammed it against the ground. Pain exploded in your skull, and your vision blurred. You tried to fight back, but your limbs felt heavy and uncooperative - probably due to his earlier hypnosis.

"Why can't you just see things my way?" Epel's voice sounded distant, muffled by the ringing in your ears. "I did this for us."

You groaned, struggling to move, but your body refused to obey. The edges of your vision darkened as you fought to stay conscious, anger and fear mingling in your chest.

Epel's grip tightened, his frustration palpable. "This could have been easier," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "But you had to make things difficult."

You felt yourself slipping away, the pain in your head overwhelming, tears of pain and hatred falling down your eyes. You failed again.

You repeated like a mantra, failure, failure, failure.

"Wait…" You tried to say, but the words came out as a weak, unintelligible murmur.

As world tilted and spun, a new presence made itself known. The heavy silence was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, each step echoing with authority and grace at the same time. Suddenly, the door creaked open, revealing the imposing figure of a tall, proud, beautiful vampire standing in the doorway, his gaze piercing and inscrutable. His partner stood behind him.

"Oh la la, the children are playing already." Rook mused, a smile founding way to his lips as he watched you struggling.

With a single glance, they took in the scene before them - the traces of blood staining the floor and all over your own shirt and lips, Epel hands still holding your head as the world continued to spin around. Vil's expression remained unreadable as he surveyed his children, his presence commanding attention.

"What is the meaning of this, Epel?" Vil demanded in a voice that brooked no argument, his tone a mix of concern and reproach. His eyes flickered between Epel and you, searching for answers in the depths of his conflicted gaze.

Epel stood rigidly, his expression a blend of defiance and regret. "I didn't mean for things to go this far, father, I swear." He muttered, avoiding Vil's piercing gaze. "I just wanted them to understand..."

Vil's eyes narrowed, his displeasure evident. "By force? By hurting them? You think this is how you build connections, Epel? By breaking them?"

Epel's shoulders slumped, the weight of father's words pressing down on him. "I didn't know what else to do," His voice barely audible. "I was desperate."

Desperate, indeed. You lay on the ground, still feeling the residual pain from the impact. Your body ached, but you forced yourself to sit up, wincing as you moved, feeling the blood trickling down your neck from how hard he was banging your head on the floor. Rook found it's way to your side quickly, supporting you even if you obviously didn't like the idea that much.

"Desperate or not, you had no right," You said, your voice trembling but firm. "You can't just force people into your life and expect them to like you."

Vil's expression softened slightly as he glanced at you, the newest family member, his concern evident. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone gentler.

You nodded slowly, the throbbing in your head making it hard to speak. Though when you were capable, you made your option known. "I'll be fine, dear Epel was just trying to show me some family love, isn't that right, Epel? Such a caring brother."

Rook pressed down on your injured head, silecing you before you could come up with another sarcastic remark. His stare was the only warning you had that dealing with him or Vil was different than dealing with Epel.

That you needed to respect them. And truly you did, only for now, while you waited for a perfect to either take Epel's as hostage or ran away. You didn't decided yet.

Vil clicked his tongue in displeasure, turning back to his son, his eyes hardening once more. "That's not how I taugh you on how to do things, Epel. Look at them, they're shaking and scared."

Epel looked away, his jaw clenched and a large pout forming on his lips as he was scolded. "I just... I know, father. I apologize."

Rook appeared beside Vil, his presence a calming influence. "Don't be so harsh on him, mon couer. He just made a tiny little mistake."

Vil sighed, his demeanor softening as Rook's arms wrapped around his waist, resting his face on Vil's shoulder. They stared at each other for a few seconds, almost as if they could read each other minds and this made you uneasy.

Was that possible too? You hoped not.

You saw Rook's amused smile growing and Vil rolling his eyes at his lover. And the scene was kinda cute if it wasn't for the fact that they were your enemy's parents. The couple you would kill after you had killed their son. Though were you really capable in this state? You couldn't even pry yourself from Epel's hands.

You took to watch the couple interacting while Epel was till sulking in the corner, looking like a cockroach in the middle of the kitchen who freezed up because the light just turned on. In his lover's arms, Vil looked so relaxed, slicked hair falling over his face as he turned his neck to softly plant a kiss on Rook's lips.

You wouldn't be able to tell that they weren't humans just by the way they looked or acted, they were too normal and common for anyone to guess that truly they were something different. You wondered how many lifes had they taken? How much blood had they spilled?

You were afraid of it. Of this new life, of failing to kill them.

You were afraid of becoming detached and apathetic just like them. You blinked, next thing you know Rook was next to you again.

You gasped, surprised, taking a step back.

"Aw, why the long face, petit lapin?" He asked, his eyes studying you with a mix of compassion and curiosity. Like a hunter study his prey. You felt trapped under his stare, compelled to answer him, even when you tried to swallow your words.

"I... I'm just... trying to make sense of everything," Your voice left you, so vunerable and feeling so small, you noticed when Vil took his side, also looking at you. "I don't know what to do... I don't even know how to be like this."

Your voice trembles with uncertainty. Every word feels like a confession under Rook's hypnotic stare, drawing out truths you're not sure you're ready to confront. So much doubt, so much fear, so much everything.

You fell lost, exactly how you felt when you woke up hours ago. The world is overwhelming and too big, and too dangerous. You don't know how to navigate it now and you can only hold onto your revenge, because if you lost this too you may lost yourself.

And you're not ready to talk about it. Not here, not now.

Rook's expression softens ever so slightly, a rare tenderness breaking through his usual intensity. "You don't need to be afraid," He reassures you, his voice low and calm. "We're here to protect you, to guide you."

Your eyes dart nervously to Vil, who offers you a reassuring nod, your thoughts keep coming to your mind; the mansion, the deaths, the pain, the fear. Yet, there's a certain growing on your chest that hasn't there moments ago.

Vil's presence calming and inviting and Rook seems like the sun, so warm, so happy. You turned your head away, afraid that your thoughts aren't yours anymore and that they were only manipulating you.

Feeling overwhelmed, you hesitate, you rethink everything you said, every little syllable, not knowing if you told them that willing or not. There's still some sarcastic remarks and rude comments you want to say to stun them, but before you can do it you feel Vil's hand grabbing your jaw to make you look at him this time, his eyes shining a vibrant lilac.

"It's ok to be confused, mein liebling," He mutters sofly. "It's ok to be scared and overwhelmed but we're here for you. You're safe with us."

He was telling the truth, you could feel it inside of you. The conviction, the certainess, Vil and Rook shared a glance then, with a surprising synchrony, they both step closer to you and by instinct you took a step back before looking back at Vil, confused. Everything was starting to feel complicated somehow.

Vil's arms encircled you first, drawing you into a warm, protective embrace, your head - now healed and not aching at all - resting on his chest as he played with your hair. His touch was gentle yet firm.

"You're not alone," Vil murmurs softly, his voice a comforting whisper against your ear.

Rook follows suit, enveloping you in his embrace from the other side. His hold is oddly comforting, as if he's silently promising to shield you from whatever dangers lie ahead. "We'll take good care of you, we're going to have so much fun together," Rook murmurs, lost in his own little world, swaying from side to side and pulling you along, as if you two were dancing to strange song only he was capable of hearing. Epel joins in, his arms encircling the group, like a family.

Are you forgetting something? You feel like you're forgetting something.

"Everything's fine, my dear. Close your eyes." But you don't. Vil's voice is as soothing as velvet, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. His presence is familiar, grounding. You want to trust him, to obey, but something in his tone holds you back. You keep your eyes open, watching him intently.

You watch his lips stained blood, the unnatural lilac eyes, the sun slowly rising through the windows. Something was wrong, so terribly wrong and your throat was so dry so suddenly. As you try to pull away from that hug, you feel him placing his hands on either side of your head.

“Close your eyes,” He instructs in a serene, soft tone that made you giddy. It was like you could tell him anything and never feel afraid of judgment, like a child running to show their father a drawing they just made without knowing how silly it looked. "I'm doing this because is far more convenient than wait for you to come around."

"I don't want to close my eyes," You answered petulantly. "Tell Epel to close his eyes."

Epel laughed a little, for the expression that took hold of his father face was priceless. He was a man (vampire?) of science, always have been, whence why their path have crossed when Epel was younger. Though he was old as that manor and the trees planted on the garden, there was an explicit limit to his patience. Staling for time as you were doing was not going to work.

It could work on Rook though. Anything worked on him simply because he was reckless. Epel was never going to forgot how he flirted with a hunter when he and Vil had a bad argument, nor how Vil killed that hunter painfully and slowly.

"Trust me," He whispers, fingers hovering just inches from your temple. You feel a slight pressure, like the brush of a feather, and your vision blurs momentarily.

"Close your eyes, lapin!" Rook murmurs this time, his voice like a lullaby. Your eyelids grow heavy, and for a moment, you consider giving in. But you fight against the drowsiness, blinking rapidly to stay awake.

Vil's expression hardens. "It’s for your own good, sonnenschein."

His hand finally makes contact with your skin, a gentle touch that sends a ripple through your mind. You feel a strange warmth spreading from his fingertips, a comforting, almost hypnotic sensation. Though you fight back agaisnt it with all your forces. You repel each and every attempt without truly knowing why.

Why you feared him when his hug was so cozy and comfy? Weird. Still you couldn't help it.

Your thoughts become hazy, memories slipping through your grasp like sand through a sieve. You struggle to hold on, to remember why you were resisting in the first place. Vil's presence was overwhelming, his will intertwining with your own. As your eyes close on their own accord, you feel a strange warmth spreading from Vil’s hands into your mind.

His voice becomes a soothing murmur, a hypnotic rhythm that lulls you into a deep, peaceful state. “Forget the pain, forget the fear,” He whispers, his words wrapping around your consciousness like a comforting blanket. “Remember only the peace, the safety, the love. Remember us.”

"Everything will be fine," Rook assures you, his voice echoing in your mind. You feel a tug, a gentle pull as if something is being drawn out of you. The details of your conversation, the reasons for your mistrust, your friends, your old world, everything begin to fade. The warmth grows, enveloping you in a cocoon of tranquility.

Epel watched it from a far, having freed himself from the hug. He was conflicted about this about at the same he wasn't going to stop his father, he knew better after all. Everything he did, he did with purpose. Though he wanted to ask if you'd be the same as you were? Fierce, fearless and determined? He hope you would.

He wanted you to be. He had other sibling once but he didn't fit in. So Epel had to dispose of him but you, oh, he could see you fitting into his little family well with your atitude and all. And he was glad that among your friends he chose you to be his sibling.

When you open your eyes again, you see Vil, Rook, and Epel standing before you, their faces filled with a mix of hope. You blink once, twice, and then your vision clears. You feel the weight lifting from your shoulders, the confusion and turmoil dissipating like morning mist.

You feel a strange sense of peace, a clarity that was missing before. The memories of your past, of your pain and fear, are gone, replaced by a comforting sense of belonging.

Vil is standing before you, a serene smile on his face. "There now," He says, his tone light and reassuring. "All better."

You nod slowly, you can't quite remember what had troubled you, but it no longer seems important.

"It worked?" Epel wanted to make sure.

His father only cocked an arrogant smile as he turned to face you. "Shall we go, hase? It's awfully clear already." He asks, extending a hand. And you take it without hesitation, the world around you feeling brighter, more vibrant.

The shadows of doubt and fear are gone, replaced by a sense of peace and clarity. You felt as if had had a pretty strange dream. Though everything evaporates from your head when you notices that you're hungry, your throat is still a little itchy.

"Where we're going?"

"To eat." Rook, from your other side, responded. He took your free hand as he and Vil guided you to somewhere darker, Epel following closer.

"After that, can I rant about this strange dream I had?" You asked.

"Of course," Rook said with a smile. "You can rant about it as we walk. We have time."

Vil glanced at you with a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "A strange dream, you say? Sounds intriguing. What happened?"

You smiled a little, everything was too funny. "So I was doing this dare with a couple of friends, I think? We went to an abandoned house and there was something hidden in the dark that attacked us when we were walking. It was chaotic."

Epel, who had been silent until now, murmured, "Dreams are so strange sometimes, huh? Good that this only a dream and no one can hurt you here."

You nodded, continuing to tell them about a small, cute creature with lilac eyes that you jokingly said resembled Epel, eliciting laughter from everyone except the mentioned vampire. Epel, walking silently beside you, only smiled faintly, his expression thoughtful as he listened to your recounting of the dream.

The atmosphere lightened as you shared other strange dreams and random thoughts you had, the darkness around you seeming less intimidating whenever you made Vil and Rook laugh till their belly hurts.

Yeah, Epel thought, you fit right here with them.

[buckbuckbarnesstuff]

One-Shots

Get yourself a snack, enjoy these wonderful one-shots and leave some love for the creative writers :)

♤ - includes sexual themes

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In the red dark [5.8k] @sergeantxrogers

Tattoo artist!Bucky x Reader

His eyes trapped yours in their vice-like grip as he stared up at you, fingers brushing against the hem of your jeans, and you swallowed heavily. You felt the rush of alcohol in your head fizzle out into smoke and embers as you sobered up quicker than you ever have in your life.

"Are you sure?"

You swallowed again. Nodded.

There was a small twitch in his eyebrows, and he narrowed his gaze. "It'll hurt."

Despite your heartbeat drowning out all sounds around you, despite the cold sweat on the back of your neck, despite the knowledge that you'll probably regret this - whatever this actually was - in the morning, you smiled.

"Then I guess I'll just have to hold your hand."

{personal comment: This does something to me, I can’t even explain it, but I enjoyed it so much and I would love to read more}

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The forever third wheels [6.6] @witchywithwhiskey

Bucky x reader

summary: it's the weekend of your town's annual valentine's day carnival and you go with your group of friends, though you can't help but be sad you don't have someone special in your life. your friend, and fellow third wheel, bucky barnes makes it his mission to give you a valentine's day you won't soon forget—and show you how special you are to him.

{personal comment: I live for a good friends to lovers and this is perfect. Bucky is such a sweetheart and I got all the feels during reading}

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In Five Years [4.9k] @elixirfromthestars

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader

Summary: Bucky was having a hard time expressing his feelings about finally being free from the Winter Soldier program. To help him out, you suggested writing a letter to his future self and burying it in a time capsule to visit this moment again in the future. The plan was to open the time capsule five years from now. That was until Thanos showed up.

[personal comment: I love reading about Bucky in Wakanda and this amazing piece made me feel so many things at once. It mainly made me cry but it’s so beautiful, I love it so much}

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Redamancy [7.3k] @renxzs

Roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: Maybe it was a bit naive to think moving in with your best friend and long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, was going to be some smooth road that led to an admittance of mutual feelings for one another and a happily-ever-after ending, wrapped up nicely in a bow. Naive indeed; especially when you have to consider the fact that Bucky is the biggest womanizer you know.

{personal comment: My heart broke and healed again during reading this. It’s perfectly written and means so much to me. I come back to this fic from time to time}

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Light, asunder [8.9k] @divine-mistake

Merc!Bucky x Prinzess!Reader

Summary: “Don’t ever do that again.” It would sound like his usual chastising, but Bucky’s voice is soft. If you weren’t crying so hard, struggling to catch your breath, maybe you would hear the note of fear within his words. “Don’t care how mad you get, don’t care how much I piss you off. You don’t go running off into the woods where I can’t find you, Star. Never again.”

You curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, right above where his heart lay beating in his chest, and hope he realizes that it’s a promise. A swear.

{personal comment: This is so magical somehow and I love it so much. Bucky growing soft and protective always has me weak}

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Here's Looking At You, Kid [7.2k] @cryonme

Boxer!Bucky x reader

Summary: bucky hated his job just as much, if not more, than you did. but if you wanted to live the remainder of your lives together comfortably, you'd both have to stick it out. which included him having to fight your ex husband.

{personal comment: I've been going through so much while reading this fic, it’s truly beautiful. Bucky's love for the reader and the remorse for hurting her by getting hurt himself was so touching}

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The Key Jangle [9.3k] @delaber

Bucky x reader

Summary: Sick and tired of your many recent bad dates, you’re dreading yet another Valentine’s Day alone. When Bucky offers to show you what a night out is supposed to look like according to him, you get to experience what it’s like to date your best friend.

{personal comment: Bucky is so charming and sweet and that date was amazing. I really enjoyed reading it}

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Stiches [3.6k] @teamatsumu

Doctor!Bucky x reader

Summary: You’re just a clueless new medical student. You’re not equipped to deal with charming, witty, handsome doctors. Especially not ones with pretty blue eyes that make you weak in the knees.

{personal comment: I'm all in for Bucky as a doctor and this was lovely written}

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Warm Comforts [2.1k] @jadedvibes

Beefy roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: A sudden breakup causes you to feel self-doubt and insecurity about your situation. Fortunately, it’s nothing your sweet roommate and a little Legally Blonde can’t fix.

{personal comment: Bucky is so attentive and sweet, it made me yearn for him so much}

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Before sunset, I fell [4.5k] @atlaese ♤

Modern!Bucky x reader

Summary: Apparently, when you stay in the honeymoon suite, the husband and the ring on your left hand come with the package. *terms and conditions apply. refunds are not issued.

{personal comment: The beginning had me hooked already and charming and flirty Bucky is a blessing. I really enjoyed this}

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Under the Sheets [3.9k] @vanderlustwords

Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky spends more time out of his dorm than in it with how much his roommate amorously makes love to his girlfriend. Luckily, his cute across-the-hall neighbor is generous about lending her place to him. Bucky’s unsure if he wants to hug or kiss his roommate for putting him in the situation he is in now. 

{personal comment: I enjoyed reading this, and Bucky being so cute}

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Too hot, An Arm Cold [2.9k] @t-lostinworlds

Bucky x reader

Summary: Cuddles from Bucky Barnes was probably one of the greatest things ever. But it was difficult to prove that point true in the middle of a heatwave while the apartment air conditioner was broken. Good thing he has a cold metal arm.

{personal comment: This is so wholesome and sweet, the perfect amount of fluff}

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These cold rooftops [3.6k] @atlaese

Avenger!Bucky x Vigilante!Reader

Summary: You're just doing your job as the local vigilante in new york, why can't bucky barnes leave you alone? Spoiler alert: He is very much in love with you, even though he has never seen your face.

{personal comment: This was nice to read, I enjoyed their interactions}

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Me & the devil [11.2k] @artficlly

Outlaw!Bucky x Saloon girl!Reader

Summary: The Diamondback Saloon and Hotel has always attracted bad men, and Bucky Barnes happens to be one of them

{personal comment: It was so thrilling to read this, the built up to the angst is amazing and I've been on edge the whole time reading this. I'm in love with this and the writing style and it deserves so much more recognition}

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Keeping Score @all1e23

Bucky x reader Fake-Dating AU

Summary: After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?

{personal comment: Bucky is such a charmer, but also so perceptive and soft. This gave me the feels, I really liked it}

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Spilled wine [3.3k] @sunmoonandeddie

King!Bucky x reader

Summary: You’re nothing more than a servant who happens to warm the bed of the king.  At least, that’s what you thought you were.

{personal comment: This gave me so many butterflies. Bucky is so perfect, it was truly lovely to read}

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Happy Mistake @sunlightdances

College!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Being assigned roommates with Bucky. He's a giant and looks like he's a bully, but he's actually so shy and soft.

{personal comment: Bucky being a cute, but oblivious idiot always is endearing. Felt bad for the reader throughout, but I'm glad it turned out so sweet}

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Deny me [3.2k] @drewbarymore

Biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: In which you feel like Bucky’s ashamed of you.

{personal comment: I felt so many things reading this. Bucky is such a perfect boyfriend and a sweet dork, we gotta love him}

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Heavy bruising [14.2k] @aeaean--bliss

Bucky x reader

Summary: A court-mandated therapy session brings you and Bucky back together after months of not speaking, bringing up memories of the mission that fucked everything up in the first place.

{personal comment: I feel like I just watched a movie. This is truly a masterpiece. The angst, the writing style, the reader's sarcasm and the way Bucky speaks his mind at the end - so beautiful}

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11:59 pm, December 31 [1.7k] @lunarbuck

bestfriend!bucky x Reader College AU

Summary: You've been in love with your best friend Bucky Barnes since fourth grade, but to him, you're just his best friend. It's New Year's Eve, maybe tonight will be different.

{personal comment: This got me so excited at the end, Bucky made me swoon}

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Dust to Dust [7.4k] @autumnsghosts

Bucky x reader

Summary: When you come back from the blip in the graveyard having just been at your grandmother’s funeral, the cemetery seems like the safest place to be. Cleaning old gravestones had certainly never been a dream of yours, but now you find yourself there most days, scraping dirt and moss and algae from stones of people long dead and most likely long forgotten. It also doesn't hurt that a certain blue-eyed super soldier visits the cemetery weekly, placing flowers over two plots.

{personal comment: I didn��t really know what to expect the first time starting this, but it really moved me in a way I can’t explain. Bucky is so genuine and it was lovely to read about the way they bonded}

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You're my home [2.5k] @whitexwolfxx310 ♤

Bucky x reader

Summary: Your wedding night!

{personal comment: I love it soft and sweet and this is perfect}

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Different now [6k] @drabbles-mc ♤

Bucky x Ex!Wife!Reader

Summary: For Week 5 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer 2024: We're Exes

{personal comment: My heart is burning and my stomach is in knots but this is beautifully written and so deeply touching}

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Bribe the super [5.8k] @real-jane

Firefighter!Bucky x Rogers!Reader

Summary: You have a very hot neighbor. He happens to think the same of you.

{personal comment: This was an absolutely endearing read and I enjoyed it so much, had me smiling a lot}

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I won't mind [6.5k] @gxrlcinema

40's!Bucky Barnes x Widow!Reader, Reader x OMC (Past)

Summary: Your old pal Bucky only has a few hours before he goes off to war. Somehow, he winds up spending them with you.

{personal comment: I bawled my eyes out reading this. It’s beautifully written and so touching. I love those conversations}

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Citrus, Miniature Sun [6.4k] @babycap

Bucky x reader

Summary: Steve's getting married, and as much as it thrills you that one-third of your 'to the end of the line' trio is getting hitched, it also fills you with dread at the prospect of your ex-fiance also being on the guest list. Luckily for you, the other third of your trio (who you are most certainly, absolutely not in love with) has a plan. A childhood friends-to-lovers, fake dating AU fic.

{personal comment: It’s perfect and utterly beautiful in so many aspects and I felt so deeply. Bless Bucky for being the best man to only exist in fiction, but I won't ever let go of him, or this fic}

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Jack Pendleton [6.2k] @roger-that-cap

Author!Bucky x reader

Summary: moving into an apartment to get away from your last relationship was fun all fun and games until you met your extremely attractive across-the-hall neighbor, who makes awesome cookies and even better novels.

{personal comment: This was exciting and also really interesting. I was invested, really sweet fic}

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You are in love [3.9k] @viperbarnes

Bucky x reader

Summary: You can hear it in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out, you are in love.

{personal comment: The way this relationship is portrayed just stunns me. It’s beautiful, real and domestic and I found myself lost in it}

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Call it love [10.7k] @sweetascanbee

Bucky x reader

Summary: As much of an expert as you were in pain, Bucky Barnes had introduced you to a novel strain, a kind of pain that encased your entire being down to the last atom, the kind of pain that left you breathless and sated, and yet still, wanting more.

{personal comment: I love to read about Bucky in Wakanda and this really hit me deep. It’s raw and geniune and just so insanely beautiful, I needed to take a break off the internet after that to fix my thoughts and feelings}

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Saints into the sea [7.4k] @babycap

Bucky x reader

Summary: Drunk jealous Bucky cockblocking the reader bc of his big dumb feelings

{personal comment: All the emotions portrayed and felt were so perfectly captured and I felt like watching a movie. The descriptions, the metaphors... It’s just truly amazing}

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[malereadermaniac]

Hope ~ Nagito Komaeda x Male Reader

Idc what anyone says I love this man sm Feeding an almost starving Nagito near the start of Chapter 2 of SDR2 - and a small bonus of the despair disease at the end! Short fic! word count: 1.2k m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI Hope's Peak = College (aged around 20) (U/t) - Ultimate Talent

Walking out of your cottage, you run into a pissed-off looking Hajime

"Hey, Hajime! What's up? You look like, really mad" you say with a small chuckle, trying to cheer up your tall classmate

"Yeah I'm good... I just went to give Nagito food and... ugh he's just such a dickhead" Hajime mumbles, letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head slightly

"Yeah... he's quite the personality isn't he? I'm sure he means well, in some demented way" you chuckle with Hajime at your remark

"Did he end up eating then?" You ask on a whim to carry the conversation on

"Uhhh... I don't actually know" Hajime says with a guilty look on his face

"I mean, I left the food in front of him to eat! But once he started acting up, I just left" Hajime explains after you give him a weird look

"Aren't his hands tied up?? He's probably in tons of pain from hunger right now... Even worse, what if he dies, Hajime?!" You say in a small panic

"I'll go check on him, see ya later!" You wave Hajime off, slightly speed walking towards the old building

While you disliked Nagito as much as almost everyone else on this island, your morals couldn't let you leave Nagito to practically starve

After getting past Monomi, you open the door to the room Nagito was in

Your heart rate increases as you see Nagito, unconscious and tied up on the floor

Running over to him, you kneel down next to the unconscious blonde and immediately feel for a heartbeat

Luckily, you find a slightly slow one - calming you down right away

You look around for the food Hajime left, finding a sandwich with one small bite taken out of it and a bottle of milk

Moving the plate closer to you and taking out some fruit you had with you, you try to gently wake the starving man up

Nagito's fair skin looks even paler than usual, his body clearly weaker

You slowly shake the lucky student awake, his eyes weakly opening to great you

"Ahhh... (y/n), come to take advantage of my weakened state? I'd be... happy to help?"

Even when starving, Nagito can still somehow be annoying as hell, offering his life up to anyone and everyone

"Hah... nope, I've come to save your life, actually!" You say with a slight annoyance on your voice

You slowly sit Nagito up against a wall, kneeling next to him, holding the plate of food

"Aw.. are you gonna feed... me, (y/n)? A lowly nothing like me?"

"Shut up and eat..." you mumble as you feed Nagito the sandwich from earlier

As you make your way through the food you brought over, Nagito and you start to make idle conversation as his complexion starts to regain some colour

You focus on Nagito's soft lips as you feed him, his watery eyes from his body's uncontrollable joy of being able to eat

"Thank you... I do really owe you one, (y/n)" Nagito says with a small smile, closing his eyes for a second as he chuckles

"No problem... I'd do this for anyone, really" you say, blushing slightly at Nagito's sincerity

"Guess that's the kindheartedness of an ultimate... But not just for feeding me y'know" Nagito mumbles

"Oh yeah? Then for what?" You question, slightly confused by what the blonde was talking about

"I was having a pretty bad dream..." Nagito's face started to lose colour again as he remembered what he was dreaming about, his expression trying to clearly hide his true feelings

"...But you woke me up, I'm really grateful for that! 'Cause of the ultimate (u/t), I didn't have to carry on being tortured by my own subconscious" Nagito says with a wide smile, the crazed look in his eyes returning whenever he talks about hope or ultimates

After a moment of silence as you helped Nagito drink the milk, you broke the comfortable lack of sound

"What... were you dreaming about? If you don't mind me asking"

"Hmhm... my parents dying.... and my dog haha - for the ultimate lucky student, its quite ironic that all that's brought me comfort in life has died, wouldn't you say?" Nagito answers honestly, you can tell from hid tone

You were quite shocked at this sincere revelation

"Oh I'm... sorry to have asked... but I'm sure that you can find new comfort, whilst cherishing the memories of your old comforts" you try to comfort the blonde

The look on Nagito's face had changed from a facade of happiness to visibly real comfort

"Heh... thanks, (y/n). Y'know, I think you're the first on this Island to be genuinely nice to me" Nagito said with a warm smile

You'd thought to yourself if this was the real Nagito - no hope bullshit and crazy demands to be killed, just real human emotion and connection

"You've given me a new sense of hope, in away, you're my hope, (y/n)"

You blushed at Nagito's words, profusely

"Don't.. say stuff like that! People can get the wrong idea, y'know" you look anywhere but into Nagito's eyes as you blush

But if you had looked into his eyes, you would of seen a similar look to when he's crazy about hope and talent, however the way he looked at you was full of warmth and comfort

Bonus-short: Despair Disease

The hospital was creepy at night, but you had to stay there - Mikan had been whisked away to take care of a worsening Akane, leaving you to take care of Nagito

After putting a cold towel on Nagito's head, you sit by his side and watch over him

After a few hours, the feverish blonde regains consciousness and notices you by his side

"(Y/n)?" He asks, not trusting his blurry vision

"Yeah? You okay, Nagito?" You ask, a tired look on your face but you make the effort to smile

Somehow, Nagito musters his strength to stand up

"H-Hey! You shouldn't be up, you should rest up in bed" your words fall on deaf ears

"I don't.... want you here, (y/n)... L-Leave... Now" Nagito mumbles, his face looking distraught

"Hey... what's up, Nagito? I'm just here to make sure you stay stable" you assure the blonde

"I Hate... you, (y/n)" Nagito's eyes start to well up in tears, his face actually distraught

"Okay, okay... I'll leave if you get back in bed, okay?" You bargain with the ill blonde

"Y-Yes!" Nagito shouts, however his words don't match his actions

Nagito for some reason dashes to the door and blocks it

"Leave now... I don't want you, I don't need you, I hate you" Nagito mumbles

"What...? Oh!" You were confused by Nagito's actions, that is until you remembered what kind of despair disease Nagito has

The liar disease makes Nagito say the opposite of what he means

"I'll stay, Nagito, for you I'll stay, come back to your bed"

"That's not good..." Nagito mumbles as he makes his way back to his bed, his warm had in yours

By the end of the night, Nagito had persuaded you to share the bed with him, so what if you catch the disease too...

Wait a minuet... Nagito says the complete opposite of what he means...

Why did he say "I hate you, (y/n)"???

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Jealousy

Wanda Maximoff x reader ☆

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - pretty much is what it says on the tin. After you try to avoid your crush you find jealousy eating at you.

Warnings: stupid, possibly cringe, maybe a little angst? Idrk, happy ending, jealousy, gay,

A/n: this is the first fic I've written since I was thirteen and I did it just to avoid being involved with my parents fight. Also my grammar probably isn't that great bc I haven't slept in 2 days so pls comment any corrections. Any feedback is so so appreciated

You didn't know when it had started. How even. But you had somehow become infatuated with fellow avenger and best friend Wanda maximoff. To put it simply you had a crush on her, a stupid schoolgirl crush that was beginning to crash down on your friendship with her.

It was small things at first, avoiding eye contact so you wouldn't blush under her gaze or not sitting next to her at meals. Next it was finding reasons not to hang out alone.

Little to your knowledge Wanda had noticed all these things and had begun to wonder if she'd upset you in someway that maybe you didn't like her the way she'd always admired you. She tried to approach you to go out for lunch to try and apologise for whatever she thought you were upset about but before she'd had chance to speak you'd scurried off saying something about needing to train.

And so life went on for Wanda as heartbroken she was that you seemed to want to distance the close friendship youd shared that she'd once thought could be more she didn't want to spend forever alone and crushed.

Thats when your jealousy started.

"Yeah the date actually went really well last night." You'd heard the sweet sokovian accent ring out across the kitchen as you'd shuffled into get your breakfast. Still half asleep you mumbled as you poured a coffee.

"You've got a date?" It came out a little more territorial than you'd intended. Despite your small efforts to dissipate your crush on the woman you were still annoyed at whoever thought they could date the girl you liked, that you should be with.

Not that you were looking at her but Wandas face seemed to light up when you initiated a conversation with her. After weeks of dead silence she'd want nothing more than to hear your voice which she'd describe as honey like and melodic to the ears.

"Yes, yes I am. A second one actually." You could feel your face redden slightly and twitch in annoyance at the words that left Wanda's lips. A second?! Not only had she had one date with someone else it had gone so well they wanted a second.

"You shouldn't go out with them." The words leave your lips quicker than you can stop them. And you look to see Wanda's face, her mouth open wide as her bottom lip twitched slightly.

Shit. You'd upset her. You'd upset the girl you loved. "I... I.. I mean.." You stammered through your sentence trying to find an exscuse for what you'd said. "I just mean.. your an avenger you should do a background check on them first and.. uh.. make sure you know they're legit and not a spy or something." After saying that you quickly fled the kitchen leaving your full cup of coffee much to the confusion of Wanda who'd had just about enough of the way you were acting.

That evening you were in your room catching up on a drama you'd originally started with Wanda but since you'd decided youd ruined your friendship beyond recovery you wanted to finish it yourself.

Then came a small delicate knock on the door. That was how Wanda knocked. Oh god you recognised how she knocked now, how would you ever get over her?

"I'm working go awa-.." You tried to get out quickly at the door as you rapidly turned the tv down and hoped she'd leave you alone.

Before you were even done your sentence she'd interuppted and responded. "Don't say another word. I can hear killing eve (srry I can't think of another tv show) playing in there. Let me in so we can talk."

You waited a beat thinking about the small list options you had right now to avoid the confrontation at your door, none of which would work or were very smart and would probably be more embarrassing than admitting the truth. So reluctantly you let her in. Twisting the handle slowly giving her all the time she needed to change her mind and leave.

Unfortunately that didn't happen and instead she waited patiently before heading over to your bed a flopping down on it in the ever so casual way she used to. As if no time has passed.

"Okay speak. Tell me whats wrong? What did I do to you?" She asks looking up at you with what looks like anger? No, no it was hurt. Everything from her wide watery eyes to her sweaty palms read that she was hurt and was nervous to why you'd been avoiding her.

"Its not you." Was all you could manage to spit out in the moment. Why had you even avoided her so much when all it had done was harm your best friend.

"Okay so what is it?"

She was relentless, she wasn't going to leave until you explained yourself and your recent actions. Being honest you couldn't blame her if it was the other way round you'd want to know.

"I..." You stare at her gorgeous face eyes flicking between her plump lips and her soft, glimmering eyes even in this moment struggling to make eye contact with her without a blush spreading across your cheeks. "I like you.. as like more than friends."

You watched on as her face contorted. The way she bit the inside of her cheek and her soft eyes hardening in time with your admittal. The hurt was long gone and replaced with an annoyance that you had blanked her instead of admitting your feelings but also a small glimmer of hope that it wasn't too late for you two.

"So what? You didn't think to tell me." She gets up from the bed. "Your rational descion was to ignore me in hopes of what?!" She was pacing now. "In hopes of what?" She repeats and suddenly your also stood up trying to open your mouth to speak but she won't give you the time. "In hopes I'd dissappear or your feelings would and we could just be friends again?"

Meekly you nodded. You had ignored her to try and make your feelings go away.

"Did you not think about me? Maybe I wanted you to have feelings for me. Maybe I want to be with you." She was speaking again and nearing you with each word.

"I.. didn't think you liked me like that.. I thought that you'd hate me."you try and explain my poor actions. "Look I'm really sorry.. I didn't know you felt like this about me."

You grab her arm forcing her to stop angrily pacing around the room and to talk to you again hoping it would calm her slightly. "..please I am. I'm really sorry Wanda.. I've missed speaking to you so much, I've missed you so much." Your further apologies seem to lessen her anger as she realises what you had done was unintentional and you'd never meant to cause this.

"You can make it up to me then."

"How?" She was offering to forgive you and that was enough. You'd do anything to stop her being angry with you ever again.

"Take me on a date."

A/n - I can write a pt 2 or follow up if anyone is interested <33

[adventuringblind]

Chin Up, Princess (2k words)

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Jos oversteps and causes a whole lot of hurt for Max and his mate, he takes things into his own hands and ends up resorting to extreme measures in order to save his lover. (Background Landoscar, Charlos, and Sewis)

Warnings: Mind control, talks of eating people and mentions of gore but nothing explicit, ghoul on ghoul violence, burning of a character, major character death (not a good guy tho), ED but like... also not an ED, soulbonds

Notes: Ironically the most tame ghoulverse fic I've done thus far. Thank you to🏍️for the amazing idea!!

Side Note: Feed my praise kink please?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It’s raining again. The kind of rain Monaco doesn’t see often. The torrential downpour that keeps everyone hidden away inside to keep warm. 

She watches the water droplets race down the window, wondering which one will hit the edge first. It’s not productive, but she needs something to distract her from the ache in her bones. The hunger pains have gotten progressively worse over the last three weeks. Still, she’s finding ways to cope. She has to manage; the pain is what’s keeping her sane. 

 It’s nice being home and hidden behind the water covered window. It means she’s free to drop the human look. All horns and tail, long tongue and sharp teeth, dark eyes and pointed ears. It’s natural - or it used to be. 

It doesn’t quite feel like her anymore. Like somehow everything that had once been a part of her is now irritating. Her horns are heavy and her tail refuses to be anywhere but the ground. All because his words sit in her head and bounce around the cavity in her chest. 

He changed her. 

~~~♡~~~

A month ago, she ran into Jos in the paddock. Even though she doesn’t like the guy, he’s still technically her king - and Max’s dad - so her father in law in a way. Max had mated with her (a heavenly feeling) but had done so without the consent of his father. 

Jos doesn’t like her one bit. Which she doesn’t care about. If Max is the prince of the demons and set to take up leadership at some point, that makes her a princess. They both dislike each other but in the essence of keeping things civil, she makes it work. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here today!” She nodded her head to show respect. Opting for that instead of bowing to this man in broad daylight. 

“I wish I hadn’t seen you at all!” Well - fuck you too - she supposes. She’d fallen into step beside him as they made their way to the Redbull garage. 

She nearly crashes into him when he stops abruptly. He grabs hold of her bicep and drags her down some alleyway between buildings. She goes with compliance, hell only knows what this man can and will do to her. 

Her back hits the wall with a disorienting force. “You’re not enough for us.” 

“I think you mean for you.” 

Jos hisses close enough to her face that she can feel his saliva hitting her. “The council decided you’re not one of us-'' He grabs her chin and she watches as his eyes fade to that deep dark color that usually means something bad is about to happen.

“You will not eat. You are not one of us. Am I clear?” 

She snaps at him. Her attempt at fighting his hold is futile. Not when the damn demon king is trying to hypnotize her. “No!” 

He clamps a hand over her mouth and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The open flame hovers just above the healed over scar on her clavicle. She shakes, desperate to get away from the heat. “You will not eat. You are not a ghoul. You are not one of us.”

It’s a hypnotic tone that seeps through her ears and floods her veins. The heat of the flame no longer her one weakness as her mind submits itself to the will of her king. 

~~~♡~~~

Her jaw snapped shut. Her vocal chords refused to work. Her throat constricts around liquids. Her teeth become glued to each other each time she tries to bite down into something of nutrients. 

A month of this torture and she can feel herself getting progressively more ravenous. Slowly they’ve exhausted all of their options. No matter how desperately she tries, she can’t get any substance into her. 

Max’s reflection appears in the window. A frown etched upon lips. It doesn’t suit him; Max was made to smile. She likes being the one to cause it. These days it feels like all he’s doing is trying to ease her slow and painful death. 

He sits opposite of her and heaves out a gust of warm air on the window. His pointer finger paints a simple picture of a stick figure. It’s - objectively - a terrible drawing, but it serves its purpose and makes her laugh. 

“I’m scared, Max.”

“I know, schat.” 

They continue to stare out the window. The bond doing the talking for them, passing their emotions back and forth. He can feel her pain and she can feel his inner rage. 

Humans don’t understand. Maybe they never will. They fear those who are different. Think this way and do this thing or you're a monster. Certainly not all of them. Lando and Charles are prime examples of this. Still - surviving amongst them gets harder each day. 

“I know what you want to do.” She turns towards him. Unbidden in the comfort of their own home. His tail flicks in uncertainty. A habit he picked up from Sebastian. “I don’t want you to regret it.” 

“It’s inevitable. Just earlier than planned.” He won’t meet her gaze. “I can’t watch you suffer when I can stop it.” 

“You have always been the chivalrous type.”

Max slides closer to her. His thumb comes to the underside of her chin and pushes it upward. Her eyes have nowhere else to go, forced to get lost in his. A never-ending sea of endless dark that she’d willingly drown in. 

“Chin up, love. There is going to be a crown on your head soon. I’d hate to see it hit the ground.”

~~~♡~~~

She hates not being able to go inside. She understands why she can’t though. She already has the weight of one hypnosis spell weighing her down; she’s more susceptible to another. 

Still, waiting is nerve wracking. The sound of familiar roars fill her ears. Occasionally wincing when she feels Max’s pain. Mild compared to what it is for him. 

Lando and Charles are sitting on the ground with her. Their mates are inside with Max, along with Lewis and Sebastian. She attempts to hold close to the bonds of their tribe. They’ve been planning this for the last couple of weeks. Every hole is plastered with flexi tape. 

“Relax, chéri. They are fine.” 

She won’t open her mouth to mutter a thanks. Not when she’s already salivating and can smell exactly where their pulse points are. Not when she can hear the steady rhythm of their hearts. 

No, she can’t eat, but she’d also rather not risk it. 

“Do we have to bow to you after this whole ordeal is over?” Lando looks at her with a curious expression. “Cause like - Oscar doesn’t bend like that.”

Both her and Charles gape and the odd statement. Lando looks like he’s just stated the weather on an average Monday morning. 

“Lando, are you sure it’s not you who doesn’t bend like that?”

“I think I know how I can bend mate! How do you think we broke the table-“

Charles grimaces, his nose scrunching up and cheeks turning red. “Bleh! I don’t need to know how Oscar bends you.” 

“You asked!”

“And now I regret it…”

Another roar bellows into the night sky. It’s loud and painful. She looks to the boys beside her for confirmation that it’s not Oscar or Carlos. They nod at her, leaving only three options. 

She bolts inside. 

The roars turn to whines. The fire rages over the body of Jos Verstappen. Max has sunk to his knees, the sunset hues of the flames reflect in his eyes and illuminate the tear tracks on his cheeks. 

She falls beside him. Panicked hands search for any possible wounds; any burns in need of immediate attention. Max is crying as she does so, but he’s smiling at the same time. There are a million emotions running through the room. The large flames a mercy to the now deceased king. 

A fallen king lay before them. His body burned to ashes. They watch as he is devoured by the fire. The silence is deafening. The only noise being the roar of the flames. An irony that doesn’t go unnoticed. To feel serene with the one thing that would surely kill her if the starvation doesn’t first. 

Max is the first to approach the pile of ashes on the ground. He creeps up to it like they might reanimate. Like they might take back what they once had and reestablish their hold on her mind with no chance at her escape. 

Sebastian meets Max in the middle. He scoops handfuls of the ash and decorates Max’s skin. The Dutch looks miserable when Sebastian dumps a handful into Max’s own cupped hands. 

“Do I have too?”

“Do you want your fathers powers?” 

He groans, but doesn’t wait any longer. He tries to be serious, but there is an element of humor here despite the situation. 

“Does this mean Max is a cannibal now?!” She supposes Lando is trying to whisper, but the building they are in echoes. He chokes when he hears it. 

“Lando! I am trying to eat my father!” 

“So you are a cannibal!” 

Oscar slaps a hand over his mate's mouth. Briefly, a look of disgust flashes across his face. “If you  really think licking me will work, you are mistaken.” Muffled sounds from underneath Oscar’s hand escape, but nobody understands. 

Max is finally able to choke down the ashes of his father. Certainly not the most conventional of coronations, but she can’t picture it any other way. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where we were dropping to our knees for this guy.” Carlos chuckles from somewhere beside her as they close in on the new king. 

Not a prince anymore - a king. 

It suits him more, she thinks. Standing tall in front of his tribe, still laughing at Lando and Oscar and their odd positioning. At Carlos and his playful pride as he kneels. He exchanges a smile with Charles after years of rivalry now comes a shared respect. He turns endearingly to Sebastian and Lewis looking at him like proud parents. 

Then to her. She’s on the ground, her knees bruised already. Max pulls her up into his arms. He brings his hands to her jaw and once again she drifts into the calm of his endless eyes. 

Soft fingers massage her jaw. The one that aches with a desperate need for something she hasn’t had in so long. He’s gentle with her, like an antique porcelain doll that might break if he applies too much pressure. 

“You are worthy of every good thing. You are one of us, just as you always have been and you are deserving of your life.” 

The cement that had been fire in her veins vanishes as he speaks. Max keeps talking, but she’s too lost in the relief from these heavy feelings - the euphoria of knowing she belongs again. The cavern of her chest is beating with words of comfort. 

Her horns don’t feel like extra weights and her tail finds Max’s with immediate ease. They intertwine like they had before. 

“You are here and loved. You have a place with us.” He tilts her chin upward like he’s done since they mated. “Chin up, your highness, you’re a queen now.” 

~~~♡~~~

Sated. 

Her body aches from a full belly instead of the hunger pains. As does the rest of their tribe, she presumes. 

Max keeps getting phone calls… and he keeps ignoring them. Instead opting to keep his attention focussed on his tribe. His love for them - for her - is radiating through his every move. 

“I think King Max sounds good on you.” She flashes her teeth at him. The others are either chatting, or if you’re Oscar then you’re using Lando as a blanket and sleeping. They are paying no attention to them. 

“You think? I’d always resented it.” 

“You’re going to change things, Max. That’s not something to resent.” They hook tails again, a comfort she’d missed dearly. “Plus, you’re stuck with me now since you saved my life. I’m going to be the most demanding queen.” She waves her hand around for dramatic flair. 

“Oh yeah? How so?” 

“First I’m going to demand that you cuddle me - and I’ll figure out the rest later!” 

“As you wish, your highness.” 

[nix-writes-mcyt]

Can you write some fluff/comfort xisuma? Been wanting some more cute and cosy fics for him but so few write them <3 love your writing btw! Long time lurker<3

Sorry it took a little while anon, but the fic is now here. Enjoy!

Business Man

Oneshot Contains: nothing but Fluff -----------------

You wander into the trophy shop, hoping to find Xisuma. You're behind on three trophies now, and it's not because you haven't sent in your diamonds.

In fact, turns out your mail was getting lost, to and from your home. Etho and Tango will be out to fix it soon, but it depends when they have the time. Thankfully Etho had dropped off all the lost mail at the Post Office, where Pearl had sorted it out and called you to pick it all up. The unfortunate thing was that the lost mail included the multiple parcels sent to Xisuma that didn't arrive.

So here you are, in his shop, hoping he is too. "X?" You call out, but there is no response. The trophies sit on their display pedestals, almost mocking you. Or at least they could be in a different world, but they're only trophies and that was a silly thought.

"X?" You call again, this time hearing a soft thud come from the wall. You take a few more steps into the room and look at some of the bigger trophies.

"This feels like a scam now that I think about it." You stare at the trophies and they stare back. It's definitely mocking. Trophies you earn diamonds to get.. and spend diamonds to get. "I can assure you it isn't." You turn quickly at the sound of Xisuma's voice, and sure enough there he stands. He's just barely in the room, coming from some hidden door.

"Oh, I didn't.. you know, mean it like that. I just meant that you're, well, a" the words are already barely pieced together but finding the end of the sentence is not easy. "I'm an entrepreneur. A business man, if you will." You see the gleam in his eyes through his visor. "Yes.. that." You reply, "a business man. A man of business. Xisuma." You're feeling even more flustered by the minute, the fact he's closing in on you only increasing that feeling.

"I heard you had some mail that got lost, did you come to deliver it personally?" His voice is so smooth and confident you find yourself completely at a loss for words. So you just nod, pulling the envelopes from your inventory. He holds out his hand, leaning just a little closer as he does. You swallow hard as you place the mail in his possession, at this point just trying to have the moment over and done with.

"Let me go sort this out for you, won't be a second." With that he's gone. You can breathe again. You look around the room, the trophies sparkling under their lights, the product of a business man. A man who has somehow taken your diamonds and apparently your heart.

Now your reaction seems silly, and you hope he didn't notice.

Soon enough he reappears, box in hand. "I've got your trophy, you'll have to be careful with this box though. Don't do anything too adventurous as this ones quite fragile." He places the box on the floor next to you. "Don't worry, I didn't make any plans because I knew it would be." Xisuma moves to lean against the pedestal opposite you, silence settling in.

Then he speaks up. "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to do something? You don't have to, I just thought maybe you and I could go for a walk.. or visit the zoo or maybe something else?" Any smoothness or confidence he had earlier? Gone. Yet he remains just as charming. "Like a date?" The words just come out of your mouth before you have time to stop them.

"Yeah, well no. Unless you want it to be?" You think about it for a second. Is this actually happening? You were not expecting to be asked on a date. "I wouldn't mind a date." Is all you manage to say.

Xisuma steps forward, offering his arm to you. You take it, heart pounding in your chest. This is both exciting and terrifying. "Let's go then." You can hear his smile, the two of you leaving the shop immediately.

You walk down to the river with very little said between you, just enjoying the moment. As much as you can anyway, it's not like your nerves are in shreds or anything. Xisuma doesn't seem to mind the lack of conversation though, or at least if he does mind he says nothing.

The two of you walk for what seems like forever, even though it can't have been more than an hour. Almost a full lap of the shopping district has been done, but you both find a well needed place to sit down and rest. Conveniently for the two of you Keralis' Lake not only has seats, but a nice view and some shade.

You both settle on a bench, Xisuma leaning into you a little when you put your arm around him. "This has been nice." He mumbles. "It has. And I've not been robbed blind by your devious business tactics." You joke, earning a small laugh from Xisuma.

"Just because you kept your diamonds doesn't mean I haven't gained something of value." You can't help but smile, knowing he's speaking about the time spent with you.

The sunlight dances on the waters surface, which does remind you of your trophy. Your trophy which you left in Xisuma's shop. It's not a big deal, it gives you another excuse to see him now. Perhaps that was his plan the whole time, you'll never know. Or maybe you will if he tell you.

Regardless, Xisuma is right. The time you've spent with him has been wonderful, even if most of it has been spent in silence. All you wanted was to bring in your lost mail, but you've come out with a nice date. That's a win in your eyes.

Xisuma reaches over and takes your free hand in his, sighing softly as he gets comfortable being held. Between the cuddle, the sound of the birds and the lake, it's truly peaceful. "I'd like to do this again sometime." He says. "I'll do it again under one condition." You reply quietly, "I'll do it again if you'll be mine?"

Xisuma lets out a breath of relief, "I was worried you'd ask for a discount, but that's a much better deal in my professional opinion." The two of you giggle before settling back down, to spend some more of your day cuddled up by the lake.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Stolen Child: A Much Needed Screaming Fit

Okay, so, as I said earlier - I'm fine. The story's fine. I'm not angry at anyone about anything or shouting at or accusing anyone of anything or any of that sort of thing that I might come across as somehow because I'm shouting and only sort of semi-coherently. I'm just shouting because I need to shout.

Basically, I've been feeling increasingly just…tired and tense? The temperature spike this weekend did not help at all, since I am not a heat person and it narfs my sleep. And my brain finally phrased last month as "I didn't have a single day off in August because every time I wasn't at work I was some stripe of not-feeling-well", at which point the rest of my mind and body went "YES EXACTLY!" and doubled down on the exhaustion and anxiety. I also have another routine medical appointment next Tuesday and something going on with my hand that looks kinda like ringworm, but doesn't act like ringworm (and how would I have picked up ringworm there?), which I will need to make another appointment for. Which means I really need to have a good, old fashioned, overstimulated three-year-old level melt down about something I care about, but that is not ultimately important to the universe and then go…I dunno. Maybe eat some ice cream and take a nap. Definitely with the napping.

Since Stolen Child is kinda the Big Craft Community Craft Thing right now and ranting about it could, conceivably, generate some useful dialogue which always results in Happy Brain Chemicals (useful right now!), we're going with that one. So if you feel like reading through the flailing mental health fail rant and giving advice, observations, feedback, or just patting me on the head and saying "Don't forget to breathe, dear. Air is important", go right on ahead. If you don't, eh. Not your job. Feel free to keep scrolling.

And now! Here we go! Ready, set - MELT DOWN!

This right here? Is a great comment. It's a lovely comment. I love informative comments like this! There's only one problem with it:

I SERIOUSLY NEEDED THIS INFO BACK WHEN I WAS PLANNING THE ORIGINAL STORY!

See, back in 2017, when I was first plotting this whole thing, my plan was to have him wind up…not heir. I seriously think he'd be happier doing like Tom and Henry and living at Downton, but running a clock shop somewhere and letting Mary run the estate and George be the heir. Thing is, I didn't know that was possible just like that. I hadn't made any of my UK fan-friends at the time (heck, I don't think I had this account yet?). As I have mentioned a million times, I fail at research, although I have been slowly getting a bit better with help. So at the time I thought that an Earl's son became the heir, no questions asked, and no options unless they abdicated which was fully what I intended on having Thomas do after a bit of trying and getting a headache and having him and Mary both unintentionally-but-avoidably stomp all over each other's toes. Then I started rewatching (didn't make it through season one because I have officially hit the 'can't really watch things on my own' stage) and was immediately reminded that Matthew didn't have a choice but to be heir. Oh! Oops! Guess Thomas can't abdicate! Which is how we wound up with the current draft.

And this comment.

Now, I have no reason to disbelieve the statement that they don't need to recognize Thomas, but I can't think of why my UK friends wouldn't have pointed it out at some point, except that I did always call it the Thomas-as-Heir fic which could have lead to the concept that heir was my desired end game. Or perhaps it was one of those things that just didn't get questioned because subconsciously they thought it was my desired end game. Or maybe something else perfectly logical! I mean, there are reasons it could have happened, but my brain is not braining good right now, so. Point being, I didn't know and I'm still not sure and this firmly falls outside of my 'things I can comfortably research'. If it were modern, sure! But history?

Seriously, my researching lessons in school extended to 'go to the library and read a book' and stopped. There was nothing about how to gauge how trustworthy the book was, or if there was, I didn't learn it because I moved through three school districts (five if you count college and uni) and wasn't in the right district at the right time. Given how obvious it is that there are a lot of history books out there that straight up lie (and I don't just mean the school texts. I've tried to teach myself history in recent years and wound up straight up calling bull shit on several books), this leads to massive trust issues. I asked at my local library if they had a research librarian on staff and bless his heart, the fellow I was talking to didn't even know what that was. There's another library nearby that is bigger, but I keep forgetting that it's part of our library system now and honestly I don't even know how to drive there and don't like driving in that area anyway and I'm not even sure the busses will take me there in a reasonable manner given public transport in this area. I know I've heard of a couple other tricks over the years that I've carefully noted down in places I've forgotten about so that I could reference them later.

…yeah.

And if it is true (which I have every reason to believe it is), what then? I've already set up the entire story to have Thomas be recognized as heir! I mean, I could put it on hold and rewrite the ending. There are a couple of scenes that would be easy, but others would be straight up impossible. I'd also have to lose at least three scenes that I've been looking forward to sharing and that people would love, and I don't know what I'd replace them with, and I'd have to rewrite the dinner scene (*straight up cries at the thought*), and I am a slow writer, so I have no idea when it would be done! I kinda hate the idea of telling everyone "We're going to be a chapter a week!" and then three chapters later going "Haha, just kidding! Indefinite hiatus while I fix the entire plot!" Especially since right now reader comments are definitely my primary 'happy chemical' source and I need that! On the other hand, I really, really love the idea of this being a one shot and not having to figure out what happens next! But it might not get done for another ten years if I try that!

If I do stick with him as heir, it seems like people would know that not recognizing him was an option, so I'd still need to do some rewriting to explain why he winds up heir! And why would he? The only thing I can come up with given my current setting is Cora pitching an ever loving (dignified, restrained) fit over the idea of not acknowledging him and he and Robert just going "OKAY OKAY WE YIELD!" which will still take some rewriting, but a lot less (I think I can keep the rewrites ahead of the posting schedule for the most part maybe?), and will still leave me figuring out where we go from here, but might work as a decent compromise?

Either way, I have to figure out what I'm doing before I post next week's chapter! And all my brain wants to do is melt into a puddle of goo for a month! The idea of trying to research or plot or anything like that just makes me want to sit in the shower and cry! I WANT A MONTH'S VACATION FROM LIFE, DAMN IT ALL!

Edit: I now have an appointment to have my hand looked at this Wednesday.

[supercalime]

hellooo, fellow bucktommy shipper (and casual b*ddie enjoyer, if it weren't for the horrors...) here! i really liked your take on b*ddie st*ns and how they are now making super wild assumptions based on some latest interviews.

you know one thing that irks me? somehow nobody seems to talk about is the fact that in canon, buck isn't written to be in love with eddie at all. like, can we please talk about this??? because I'm all for Death Of The Author. OS can talk about ships all he wants but in the end, only the canon narrative matters to me personally. i've watched long-form content with endgame couples being set up in the pilot episodes who become canon many seasons later (bones, castle, grey's anatomy, the mentalist, etc.), and the entire point of such couples is to establish that, yes, they have been having romantic feelings all this time since day one. they do so very very obviously. there is zero subtlety or room for questioning.

one of the most common tropes is to give one or both characters (of the endgame couple) another love interest so that the endgame couple can be full of jealousy and pettiness every time that other love interest is mentioned or shown. having another love interests always endangers the original closeness of the endgame couple, and then the breakup propels the endgame couple forward in their relationship. the love interest is always used for comparisons, to make it abundantly clear that everybody else is lacking in some way. at no point in 911 did they do so with buck and eddie??? these dudes go through various romantic relationships, and never ever has it been any issue to the b*ddie dynamic. never was it talked about. never were hints dropped that one of them is jealous. even now, with bucktommy, eddie shows not a single ounce of jealously. on the other side, look at how they showed us buck being obviously jealous because eddie monopolized tommy's time even though buck wanted tommy time himself! buck couldn't stand the jealousy even a little bit, and he ended up literally hurting his bestie because of it. but whenever eddie is involved romantically and sexually with someone, there are zero signs that buck is bothered or threatened or jealous. they both seem super chill? they do not question at any point that them dating other people might hurt their relationship? logically, that must mean buck's never wanted to be romantically or sexually involved with eddie (and vice versa). at it's core, b*ddie has been written as a friendship. to this day, we have no canon proof for anything else.

i would not hate b*ddie to happen or anything. i do enjoy b*ddie fics (those that aren't super misogynist ♥). and i think it could be a great couple if done well! but as you said, even when buck thought eddie was hot... well, so what? that's literally just an objective observation. RG is handsome based on societal standards. chim and hen also immediately acknowledged that eddie was hot in 2x01, and both of them are Not At All romantically or sexually attracted to eddie either. nobody is questioning chim's or hen's sexuality based on the comments they made about eddie being hot. because nothing about this equals real romantic feelings or the desire to be in a relationship. the fandom understands that logic just fine with chim and hen. why not with buck, though? also, we have yet to see a reversed moment for eddie staring at buck and finding him hot. they had no problem to show eddie Immediately having a crush on ana flores when he first met her. this shows that eddie feels sexual attraction just fine. he was, however, never shown in canon to feel it for buck.

also interesting: even though buck found eddie hot when they first met, it did not trigger buck to seriously question his sexuality at any point in the past like, 5 years or so. in all those years of canon b*ddie friendship, the show has never used the plethora of opportunities to propel b*ddie into romantic or sexual territory. the show could have! but the show never did, so i refuse to let b*ddie st*ns or OS retcon this. if it's not in the canon material, it isn't canon. with tommy, it took only a couple of weeks and a handful of interactions for buck to reach a point of clarity about his sexuality. the most logical deduction imo is that buck simply clocked that eddie's hot (like everybody else, duh, he isn't special in that regard), and it's never meant anything deep.

my only real probem with this entire situation is how hardcore b*ddie st*ns are now using this as a justification to harass others even more (especially bucktommy shippers). i'd love to enjoy canon bucktommy and fanon b*ddie in peace! but the hate that b*ddie st*ns are spreading everywhere again (like with every new season and newly introduced love interest) is so overwhelming.

sorry for the long ass rant btw oopsie. feel free to ignore this. i just wanted to let it out and it seemed like you would understand. anyway, thanks for reading in case you got this far!

I’d never ignore a sensible take, anon! (I feel bad that you had to go anon but I understand. We know the drill by now, some stans are scary lol)

But like, ALL OF THIS!!!

Discourse like this is what takes away the enjoyment of media for me. It sucks that fandom experience can have two very extreme opposing sides, specially when it comes to two “competing” ships. You can kinda tell by how bucktommy shippers behave (I’m not trying to flex at all because I am one. A good majority of us has zero problem with b*ddie endgame even though we prefer the other. We like what we are getting and are happy to see this storyline play out) compared to b*ddie shippers (of course not all of them, I’m talking about the entitled ones. That clog comment sections, bother actors, go to the other ships tag to complain about it and say how their preferred ship is better, etc).

Im not immune to bad takes and bad fan behavior. Ive surely acted like these stans in other fandoms and i do regret it, so i hate seeing it happen again and again, no matter where i go.

Not to quote mean girls, but I wish we could all get along…

All that being said, whichever ship “wins”, it’s no one’s call but the writers and producers of the show. Someone told me that Tim writes for himself and doesn’t take outside factors (at least to an extent cause it’s impossible to not know the fan reaction) into consideration when it comes to where he wants the story to go.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Fifteen: Sattler's Quarry

Gates Of Hell [Masterlist]

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of death, virus, mentions of past trauma, thalassophobia (deep fear of water)

[A/N: this chapter is dedicated to the one and only @sattlersquarry who has literally been supporting this series since day one!!! I honestly don't know where this fic would be without your constant support so, in honour, here's a chapter filled with the steve x reader moments we deserve (and maybe a little angst, but I can't help myself)

I would also like to take the moment to thank everyone for their patience, I've been through two rounds of sickness and it really took a lot out of me but I'm okay, I'm back, and I'm really excited to share this chapter with you all! I hope everyone enjoys!]

Sattler's Quarry

You were living on borrowed time.

It wasn’t news to you, in fact it’s all you’ve been thinking about since the day the gate exploded, leaving you and Steve stranded in a foreign world shaped like your home. The thought of it creeps in whenever you’re still, imagining how horrible it would be if it happened without warning.

And then those terrifying images play out like a slide-show. You turning, attacking, regretting. You hate that you’re imagining all the ways you could possible turn on the boy you cared about, but you can’t help it. This virus did everything it could to make you feel like a monster.

Steve can tell your symptoms are getting worse. You’re trying your best to hide them, force them away, but every so often you’ll slip up and expose the intensity of it, snapping at him or stumbling to a stop to blink away the black spots in your vision. He could just go on, find the gate himself and escape before it was too late. But he wasn’t leaving you down here.

After Max’s radio message this morning, you had both immediately set off, determined for this to be the last trip across the Upside Down forever. You just hoped you had decrypted the pattern correctly and weren’t just leading you both out here for nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Once your soft footsteps turn to crunches above the gravel, you know you’ve arrived.

Sattler’s Quarry was located on the edge of town, buried behind a thick expanse of woods behind the lab. It wasn’t a particularly unpopular place, but since it was owned land people generally tried to stay away from it. That was until Will Byers’ body was found just before he miraculously showed up alive a week later, making it a honeypot for insensitive teens. Since so many kids were visiting, the owner, Frank, decided it best to just drain the quarry to avoid anymore mishaps with government cover-ups and reckless teens alike.

While it didn’t make the cut for the ‘bodies of water’ criteria, you figured it should count for its past.

“Um, so where is this gate meant to be if there’s no water?” Steve questions, squinting towards his surroundings. Somehow everything was darker around the quarry, making it near impossible to spot anything dangerous. And there was always something dangerous.

“They said it always appears at the heart.” You reply, keeping your focus on the ground so you don’t accidentally walk off a cliff in an anti-climactic end to your life.

“What kind of cryptic bullshit is that?”

“I think they just mean the middle.” You gently nudge his arm, spotting the edge of the quarry and he nods, sighing.

“Okay… let’s find the middle.”

You lead him to the edge, focused on your footing to ensure it was solid ground. Everything seemed normal until a crackle of lightning above you shed a spotlight, glinting below. You both freeze, staring down.

“Holy shit.” Steve breathes, and you can only nod in agreement.

You had never seen the quarry so full with water even before they drained it, but there it was, rising up to what would be half full. You can just spot the smaller rock ledge you and Robin would sit at during the summer, imagining the quarry could have been a swimming spot if it weren’t so small. Now you didn’t really have to imagine.

“I didn’t even know the Upside Down had natural water.” You say, feeling a sudden pang of fear. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“When was the last time you drank water?”

“Uh…” He frowns at first, thinking it through. And then he widens his eyes, staring back at you.

Neither of you have had food or water for three weeks. And worse yet, neither of you had noticed.

“How is that possible?” Steve questions and you shake your head. “I don’t even… are you hungry?”

“No.” You let out a breath, looking around you. “How could we have forgotten something like that?”

“Been too busy fighting and running.” Steve shrugs and you tighten your lips. “Come on, we’ll freak out about this later, let’s get a closer look at this water.”

You point out the ledge you had spotted earlier and soon enough, you had both quickly descended down until you were both peering over the edge, close enough to the water to see your reflections shining back at you.

���The water seems pretty clear.” Steve nods, hands on his hips as he looks across the massive body of water.

You frown. “How can you tell? Everything’s so dark down here.”

“Yeah I can’t see shit, I was lying.” Steve peers back down at it, crouching and running his hand through the water. It was strange, knowing now that he hadn’t touched water in weeks and yet, he still remained completely satisfied. “Dustin said the gate should glow red when it opens… do you think we’ll be able to see it from up here?”

“I don’t know.” You say, shifting on your feet. Steve looks up at you, noting your uneasy nature.

“Hey, they’ll let us know when the gate opens on their radar thingy.” He assures, standing back up.

“That’s not…” You glance back at the water before turning around, opting to face anywhere but there. “I don’t like water.”

“You don’t like water?” Steve repeats and you nod, thinning your lips. “Wait, like, you’re scared of it?”

“Not the water specifically. Just like...” You explain, wafting your hand through the air. “The stuff in the water.”

“Like what?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and you look shocked. “What? I’ve been swimming all my life, I have no idea what you’re on about.”

Your mouth gapes, feeling exasperated as you look between him and the water. “There’s- it could… Scary fish.”

“Scary fish?” He tries to hide his smirk and you bat his arm.“It’s the quarry, okay? Nothing was even in here before it got drained or some shit, nothing is gonna be here now, okay? Can you swim?”

“Yeah, I can swim.” You nod, looking down with a shudder. “But it’s much nicer in a pool with ceramic tiles staring back at me. Not whatever endless void of death I’m looking at right now.”

“That’s the positive spirit.” He chuckles and you grimace. “Okay, okay, look, I’m not asking you to jump in there alone, okay? We’ll do it together.”

When silence washes over, you turn to see him holding out his pinkie. You smirk, looping your own around it.

“Thought you said this was childish.”

“It grew on me.” He shrugs, smiling down at you. When he realises he’s just staring, he clears his throat, stepping back. “So, uh… what now?”

“We wait, I guess.” You say, lowering yourself onto a smaller ledge etched into the rocky surface, digging your elbows into your knees as you lean forward with your head in your hands, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the deep.

Steve joins you after a moment, his knee brushing against yours as he stretches out. He thinks how strange it was you were both so comfortable with contact that it was simply second-nature, your arm pressed against his to the point he could feel your warmth even through the thick fabric of your jackets. When the apocalypse started, neither of you could sit so close, the space between you speaking volumes.

“Do you think the military have it sorted?”

Steve’s question was a surprise, making you straighten up to meet his eyes inquisitively.

“I mean, it’s been three weeks. They must have done something.” He theorises and you shrug, not giving it much thought.

“Maybe.” You say, pursing your lips. “They didn’t have much luck before but, like you said, it’s been three weeks. The worst of it would probably mean they move us out of Hawkins, maybe to California or something.”

Something sparked hope then in Steve’s chest. Us. Not ‘them’, or ‘you’, us. Steve was always afraid to speculate about the future after the Upside Down, fully aware of the inevitable possibility you won’t have one. But there you were, including yourself in the narrative like it was meant to be.

You twist your face when you noticing him smiling, making you laugh. “You’re making that face again.”

“I can’t help it.” He chuckles and you smile back at him, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You wanna hear something funny?”

“I can’t deal with another one of your ‘knock, knock’ jokes right now.” You groan and he laughs, shaking his head.

“No, it’s not that.” He scrunches his face in thought, letting his eyes drift to the water then back to you, studying you like it was his last moment he ever could. “I, uh… do you remember anything about middle school?”

You raise your eyebrow, smirking. “Uh… a little, I guess. Why, do you?”

“It’s probably the only thing I can remember.” He sighs, leaning back until the rock edge dug into shoulder. “It was the last time I felt like a kid.”

“What’s so funny about it?” You remind him and he clicks his tongue, nodding.

“I, um…” Steve looks nervous, staring at his shoes. It made your stomach flutter, feel giddy. “I actually had the biggest crush on this girl back then. I… I don’t think I hid it that well either.”

You slowly nod, looking at your hands. “Nancy?”

“No.” He says and you back to him, frowning. “It… it was you.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“I- I thought you knew.” He laughs and you shake your head, looking bewildered. “Literally everyone else did. Even Robin was teasing me about it.”

“You throw so many parties that the school practically lives at your house, you’re always ranting about getting a basketball scholarship, and weirdly enough I am fully aware of the crush you had in middle school that you completely ruined but it’s so mind-blowing I can’t even repeat it.”

His mind is taken back to his very first official meeting with Robin, the way she had rambled at him the entire car ride as he drove around searching for you. She knew so much about him and, since you were close, he figured you would have known all about his middle school crush too. How wrong he was.

“I didn’t know.” You say, smiling in disbelief. “Seriously? Me?”

“Yeah.” He laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I know we didn’t really hang out that much, but whenever you were around… I don’t know, you just seemed so… cool. And fun. You would always make the best jokes, you never let anyone tell you what to do. You were so different from my other friends, I just… I just had a massive crush on you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask, your wide eyes staring up at him, waiting for an answer.

“I…” He lets out a breath, shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe I figured you wouldn’t want to be with a guy like me. I mean, the people you were friends with were nothing like me. And we never really saw eachother that much… I just ran out of time.”

“Ran out of time?”

“Well, you know.” He says, smirking. “The whole sworn enemies thing we had going on for some reason.”

Steve meant it as a joke, but your breath hitches and you shift in your spot, eyes darting away from him in a flash of hurt.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean-” He tries, but you shake your head.

“It’s okay.” You dismiss, leaning forward. It wasn’t okay, though. It was a subject you’ve been avoiding ever since you found out Steve lost a lot of his childhood memories to deliberate punches and infuriating concussions.

But maybe you needed to stop avoiding the truth. The secret was only keeping a barrier between you, one you had cherished a long time ago but… everything was different now. It was time.

“I know you don’t remember.” You say quietly, watching how the red sky reflects against the water, making it crimson in its wake. “And that’s okay. I mean, it was a long time ago, but… but part of me wishes you did.”

Because I hate to be the one to remind you, you thought, knowing that once Steve caught a glimpse of the person he was in the past, it would eat him up inside.

“Do you remember Dan Shelter?” You ask, looking up at him. He frowns in confusion, unsure where this was heading, but he nods regardless. “The summer before freshman year, he asked me out on a date, wanted to take me to a movie or something. And I said yes.”

Steve watches how you keep your fingers busy, mindlessly twisting around a loose thread at the bottom of the jacket you were wearing, avoiding his eyes completely. He couldn’t remember a single detail of what you were talking about and yet he knows he and Dan would hang out almost all the time in the beginning years of high school.

“What happened?” He asks, feeling like he was holding his breath for far too long, afraid of the ending.

“Nothing.” You shrug, finally looking at him. “He stood me up. Part of me figured he would. He didn’t really seem that into it when he asked, I was just… I was so happy for a minute knowing someone had picked me, you know? The weird police girl. But I waited outside the theatre for an hour that day until my dad eventually picked me up and took me home.”

“I don’t…”

“I know.” You nod, sending him a reassuring smile. “But, I, um… I did see him again. At the arcade. I was there with Robin, actually. Yeah, we, uh, we managed to escape our parents for the day and just spent all our money playing stupid games. It was fun. And then I spot Dan trying to beat some high score and I felt so embarrassed at first. But then I thought, why the hell am I the one embarrassed? He was the jerk, not me.”

“So I went over.” You continue, returning to fiddle with the hem of your jacket. “I asked him up front, why didn’t he show up for our date? But, as it turns out, he wasn’t alone. Tommy and some others showed up, teasing, asking him if I was telling the truth. And he just… he laughed. Told me I was ‘freaky’, that I had been stalking him.”

“Why would he do that?” Steve shakes his head and you tighten your lips.

“Because that’s how guys like that became likeable.” You say bitterly, “It only got worse after that. They all started calling me names, laughing in my face. Robin told me to leave, and I should’ve, but I wasn’t going to stand there and take it. I told Dan he was a liar, that he wishes a girl would care enough to stalk him. And then someone else stepped forward.”

You take a deep breath, meeting Steve’s eyes. “He said it was all true. And that I… I had done it to him. That I was some crazy stalker obsessed with boys to the point where I had tried to throw myself at him. And even though they were false accusations, obviously everybody believed him over me.”

“Who…” He asks before he notices how your face twists, turning away from him once again. His stomach churns.

“You said that.” You say quietly, and his heart sinks. He ruined your life, and it wasn’t even an interaction he bothered to remember. “I didn’t even know why, either. I just remember after that, Tommy and Carol starting spreading the rumours, even attaching a whole story to it about us at Lover’s Lake and me going all crazy because you didn’t like me back or some shit. Everyone started calling it-”

“The date.” Steve finishes and you whip your head toward him, eyebrows furrowed. Nancy had told him all he needed to know, and he had chosen not to believe it could be true. But it was, and he hated himself for it.

“Yeah.” You nod, biting your lip. “I… I didn’t really make many friends after that. ‘The date’. They all assumed I was trying to use them to get to boys, that I was some kind of freak. After a while I just gave up trying to convince anyone any different. I already had enough to deal with, I just…. I stopped caring.”

“I can’t believe I forgot about that.” Steve says and you start to shake your head.

“No, you’ve- you’ve been through a lot, I don’t-”

“It doesn’t change what I did.” He interrupts, looking at you with determination. “Back then, I- I was so obsessed with everyone liking me, with fitting in with, god, Tommy and Dan… I would say literally anything to make me their friend. I did say literally anything.”

You watch as Steve’s face scrunches in disgust, burying it in his hands and mumbling into them. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“It was a long time ago, now.” You try and he runs his hands through his hair, straightening back up.

“I am so so sorry, Y/n.” He says with such conviction you knew it was true. You just never thought you’d hear those words ever leave King Steve’s lips. And you were partially right. Because the boy sat beside you, holding your hand and begging for your forgiveness, wasn’t King Steve anymore.

“I forgive you.” You give him a small smile, squeezing his hand.

“Really?” He frowns. Something heavy in his chest was lifting. Three small words that held heavy significance were giving him a peace he was unfamiliar with. After last year, he had assumed he was on the path to forgiveness for his old self, knowing he would have years to redeem. He figured as long as he proved himself, he wouldn’t need to hear those little words. But he did. He really did.

“Steve.” You raise your eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “I literally just made out with you in a cheap motel bathroom yesterday.”

A smile stretches onto his face, a rouge tint hitting his cheeks. “You mean you don’t do that with all the boys you’re stuck in the Upside Down with?”

“Only the ones I’ve forgiven.” You shrug and he dramatically holds his hand to his heart, making you laugh.

After a moment, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as you smile against his touch.

“Thank you. For forgiving me.” He mumbles into your hair and you pull away, looking up at him with such adoration, he felt the tips of his ears turn pink under your gaze.

Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against his cheek, holding your breath. He brings himself closer and your eyes flutter shut, feeling his lips brush against yours until you commit fully, your hands slipping around his neck like he would slip away.

The kiss wasn’t the same as it was the first time. There wasn’t any hesitation or urgency. It was just simply sweet, all of your senses consumed by Steve and Steve only. His heart found its rhythm with yours, everything else washing away into a stream of his happiness.

And, when you pull away, he’s still chasing your lips, eyes closed and cheeks red. It was the second time he has ever kissed you, and he already craved a million more.

“Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“Look.”

He opens his eyes to find your worried ones staring back, tilting your head to the water. He turns his gaze over to the quarry, his eyebrows furrowing.

A red glow was starting to blare through, casting the quarry in a scarlet hue. It was beaming from the middle, just as you said it would, like a living, breathing heart.

You both slowly stand, moving closer to the edge with heavy chests. This was finally it. This was the escape.

“Guys, the gate just showed.” Lucas’ voice blares out into the dark from the ground beside you. You reach down to grab the radio and hold it to your lips.

“We see it.”

“You have around 5 minutes to get through before it shuts off for good.”

“It’s all we need.” Steve nods, looking at you. “I’m gonna dive down a little, just enough to get a look and see if it’s big enough.”

He pulls off his jacket, knowing it would only weigh him down in the long run. Letting it fall beside him, he moves to the edge until he feels your hand on his arm, making him turn back to your worried gaze.

“Be careful.” You say and he smiles at you, giving you a smile salute before finally diving down in perfect form.

The water engulfs him like a warm blanket, shocking his senses as he prepared for the cold. But it didn’t feel any different from his swimming pool at home, his legs kicking out and driving him further down the quarry. He followed the red light, his eyes adjusting to the gate that lay at the bottom. It looked like some sort of thick membrane was blocking his view to the other side, but he took that as a positive. It meant nothing was bleeding out into the other side.

After about twenty seconds of you shifting on your feet, Steve resurfaced just a few metres away, presumably directly above the gate. Once he spotted where he had left you, he grins.

“We’re good.” He calls out, shaking water droplets from his hair and extending his arm as an invitation. “No pressure, but… it’s now or never.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. No pressure. You were just going to dive into this suspicious body of water in hopes of breaking through a gate that lay at the very bottom of the quarry. And you had limited time to do it. No pressure at all.

You dump your bag and your jacket, neither of which you would need on the surface. Hopper would surely be heading to Sattler’s Quarry now to take you both far away from here. Home.

As you ready yourself to jump, you look up to ensure you’d be swimming in the right direction when your eye catches something on the other side of the quarry, making you squint into the darkness. Your heart jumps.

The red glow from the gate was making the water a little clearer, making everything look scarily like blood. But that wasn’t really the terrifying part.

A dark shape was moving in the water.

And it was heading directly for Steve.

“Get out of the water.” You say, completely numb. He frowns at you, and finally your voice rises. “Steve, get out right now!”

Swivelling his head around, he’s confused at your outburst and trying to find what you were staring at. And then he sees it, something big. He wasn’t alone in the water.

“Shit.” He breathes out, immediately starting to swim towards you.

There is a big distance between you and where he started in the middle, your voice almost alien to yourself as you continuously cried out.

“Steve! Come on, just a little more!” You keep shouting, hoping your words would somehow bring him to you faster. It’s gaining on him, but he’s so close.

You’re reaching over the edge, arms held out ready to pull him out. You can almost brush your fingertips against his. Just a few more arm strokes towards you until the water would splash your face and he’d be in your arms-

The water shifts directly behind him.

And then he’s gone.

You’re just left alone, screaming into the darkness.

“STEVE!”

Chapter Sixteen: The Pattern ->

taglist: @toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby .

[yesimwriting]

Hi, I'm kind of picky of FF in general, smut especially, but your "Pulling away" is just beyond perfect. Do you maybe have time and the enthusiasm to write something like that again? Not sure what other characters you'd write for (out of your master list) but another Joel would be great anyway. Thank you for your work!

A/n ahh thank you!! the feedback i've gotten on "Pulling Away" has been unbelievable,, and i very rarely usually write smut without being prompted to lol, i feel like it's too obvious that i'm a virgin who has had very few sexual experiences, even less if you don't count the ones i didn't fully consent to,, but that's neither here nor there, i'm doing better now i promise :)

also ik my masterlist is super limited compared to who i actually write for lol,, updating it is my absolute enemy but i'm working on it 😭

also the build up in this fic is criminal!! that's my bad!

Summary: You, Ellie, and Joel have recently decided to permanently settle in Jackson. The promise of stability seems to lead to boundaries adjusting during a sleepless night after Joel appears in your bedroom.

smut warning, 18 plus !!

----

It's existed in him as undeniably and permanently as the lines etched into the slightly calloused skin of the back of his palm. Control is something that Joel Miller knows, something he clings to the same way he keeps a gun in his hand when he needs to.

Control is what keeps him from reacting when your arm moves too carelessly and your elbow manages to push against his ribs. The side that you know is more yellow-purple than the soft tan it should be. If you weren't lying next to him, you would have assumed that the shift of your arm had no affect on him. But you're pressed closer to him than you've ever been, so you can feel the shift despite his intentions. It's subtle. A pinch in his breathing and a brief wave of tension in his spine.

"Sorry," your blurt out is instinctual, and you're not sure if it might be making things worse. You've never been this close to him and it burns so much you can practically feel it melting the thin ice holding the two of you above water.

Burns in a good way. A way that you've only ever felt through brief flutters that have come up more and more recently. Lingering touches patching up injuries, reassuring squeezes of hands that are always brief and never mentioned, the press of Joel's knee against yours as you sat at that table in Jackson, overwhelmed by the presence of so many strangers.

And now this. You, Joel, and Ellie had been given a place to stay. You used to dream about your own bed. A safe roof over your head and a clean blanket keeping you warm. Finally getting it left you restless. Being away from Joel and Ellie felt unnatural even if they were in the same building as you. There are so many strangers here, and even though they have no reason to strike you down, it's still weird.

You couldn't help the obsessive thoughts. It felt oddly compulsive, the urge to wrap the two of them up in warm blankets and bubble wrap and just watch them be okay. It's weird, but what can you say, Ellie and Joel are your people.

And then Joel wandered in after some talk with his brother. It had surprised you, considering the way he had avoided you earlier, but you'd never complain about having him close.

You're still not sure how it happened. How Joel started asking you about how you were settling and telling you that Ellie was just fine. He had gone in to check up on her and then lingered until she fell asleep. The thought of that domestic moment made your heart swell and you found yourself relaxing.

Somehow Joel ended up taking some of your covers. There's a draft, it's winter. You forced yourself to not focus on that in any other context. Refused to give it any other meaning. And then he moved closer, eventually laid his head on your pillow. You almost convinced yourself it was just a way to be a little comfortable while keeping up conversation. But then the talk eventually faded and you had to move to let him fit and you ended up like this. Safe and fragile.

This stray from what's normal is okay tonight. Everything is still weird, you three like awkward, feral cats compared to the people of Jackson.

"You're fine," he breathes, voice rough with sleep.

His acceptance is easy but it does nothing to make you less aware of your position. You're more on top of him than you need to be and your mind is suddenly scrambling, trying to remember every injury you've ever seen him receive.

Untangling yourself from the gentle cocoon you've created is an ache in your chest, but the thought of hurting him is worse. You move your leg close to the edge of the bed and start the careful process of retracting your arm.

Joel shifts with a slight sigh, his own hand following your own. He snags your wrist, pulling you back into place. "You're fine." Joel repeats his earlier words, so half thought out and mumbled together you think they might even be sleep idled.

"Careful," you try, fighting against the blood rushing to your face. "I don't want to hurt you."

Joel's hand moves down your forearm with a slowness that almost feels deliberate. You have to press your lips together to keep from exhaling too sharply. He turns his head and even in the dark you can feel the focus of his gaze.

He swallows once, lips parting for a moment before he speaks, "Hurts more the other way." It's vulnerable and not, undercut by something that feels so factual you briefly have to think about whether or not that's physically possible. "It's good pressure."

Your eyebrows draw together at the realization that he's not entirely joking. The audacity. He's always referencing his age and the soreness that's going to have to catch him at one point or another but now there's not a single concern for his joints or potential hip damage. You've always had a feeling that at least a part of that rant has to be bullshit, or at least some kind of exaggeration.

You scoff but make no move to pull away as Joel settles. "I don't believe you." Normally you wouldn't state anything so transparently. Any flash of softness is glass and barely tangible. Trying to grasp it by speaking about in the open makes it vanish. Like waking too suddenly from an incomplete dream. But you don't feel at risk, something about the dark and the warmth and his hand on your forearm. "You're so full of shit--what happened to old man knees and arthritis and hip joint iss-"

"You're making up those last two."

There's silence for a brief moment and then laughter. A stupid burst of giggles that has you forgetting the little bit of normal left. Your forehead briefly falls down, your face pressing against his shoulder as you try to keep it down. He laughs with you after a second, a reluctant, almost annoyed display of amusement.

You're still recovering, breathing a little heavier than usual and coming back enough to realize that this level of closeness may be pushing it. You lift your head just as Joel's hand finds a place between your shoulders. First a fist and then his fingers patiently relaxing. You don't think you've ever been this still in your life.

"I can't keep track of all your old man ailments," it's a whisper that's more against his skin than not.

He lets out a breath, "You needed me to help you onto a horse today."

You halfheartedly glare even though you're too pressed into him for him to be able to see you. "I could do it by myself now." Likely a lie, considering it had only taken a second with Joel's help and the concept of casual horse riding still feels foreign. "I just hadn't ridden one before."

His hand shifts up your back, an unbelieving hum escaping him. Has Joel always been this warm? And somehow both so evidently sturdy but still comfortable? Safe? You don't know what possesses you, maybe it's the urge to not feel so divided from him in any way, but you turn head slightly to make it easier to speak: "You're not actually that old."

He pauses at that, fingertips freezing against the fabric of your pajama shirt. "Older than you."

You let out a sigh, feeling like there's a hint of something else tucked into his words that you're too tired to explore. "So?" He lets out another flat breath, a sound you don't quite understand but makes you want to compensate, "You can get old, though, when it's your time."

He shifts in a way that feels like a combination of stifling a laugh and a display of a touch of reluctant curiosity. "You givin' me permission?"

"Not like that," you shake your head against his arm, "I just--I don't know--I think it'd be good if you got to be old with arthritis and bad hip joints and whatever else happens. It'd mean you were still alive."

You don't realize what you're saying until the words slip out. The blankness of your statement is too honest and you blame the fact that you're actually starting to feel like you could benefit from the sleep you've been putting off. It's instinctual to turn into him in a vain attempt to get closer even though you're already hanging onto him in a way that feels ridiculous. Your fingers curl in to him a little more, clutching at the surprisingly soft fabric of his shirt.

It's a subtle change, but you're not surprised that Joel notices. You are, however, not expecting him to understand. The hand on your back draws up even further, pushing you against him more firmly. Maybe Joel did have a point. Good pressure.

"Don't go thinkin' about it."

For once, you want to listen to him without putting up a fight just to see that line between his forehead reappear. But you can't. It's not that easy. Even here, as safe as it's ever going to get, there's still a chance of loss. And even if the world was perfect and Joel could guarantee that there would never be a dangerous patrol or anything threatening him again, there are still other things that worry you. There's no reason for you all to stay together.

When your only response is to halfheartedly nod so that he can feel the motion, Joel lets out a partial sigh. The movement of his chest is more noticeable than the sound. His hand travels down the expanse of your back, something you only recognize because of the warmth his touch leaves in its wake. You're only half there until his fingers brush against a small expanse of exposed skin where your sleep shirt had ridden up. Nothing insanely suggestive, nothing that should be considered too intimate. It's likely an accident, too. It's too dark for it to be intentional.

Knowing this is not enough to keep your body from tensing. Joel's fingers move upwards with no warning, slipping between the only layer dividing you. The cotton of the T-shirt is trapping him and the heat of his touch as his hand settles on your hip.

"You here?" His question is low, like he's trying to compensate for the hint of worry leaching into his tone. "With me?" The second part of the question is an afterthought, said so quickly and earnestly it feels like an impulse.

You're melting, and you don't mind it all. In fact, you're starting to think you might prefer it. "For now, at least."

It's half joke, half something else. A punch that some cynical, over worrying part of your brain needs to throw. You hope he won't see past the shell of humor, but feel the uphill battle in his silence. In the eventual drag of his thumb across the curve of your hip. The gesture is a contradiction in itself--small and cautious yet so natural. What should feel foreign is so familiar it coats it all in a layer of intimacy that's difficult to just sit with.

An odd sense of almost panic that makes it impossible to think settles in you. Something in you feels like it's burning, a slow fire that's patiently spreading. You don't know if you want him closer or farther or something in between.

The mix of unknown emotions is enough to distract you from your derailing train of thought. Maybe that's the point. Some strategy on Joel's end to force a mental reset. If it is, it's working. You wouldn't say you're breathing any better or more calmly, you're just more aware of the way air enters your lungs and filters right back out. The world seems to be reduced to that. Just your breathing. And Joel.

The little of him you can make out in the dark and the feel of him everywhere without him feeling close enough. He's steady, secure in his firmness like he's some immovable force. Joel is also starting to feel like a natural heater, radiating just enough warmth to make everything comfortable.

What is wrong with you today? These thoughts might be more dangerous than the other ones. They're definitely close to being more overwhelming. All of this has to be in your head, the result of all the feelings you've been attempting quell all day culminating and a touch of something else. The thoughts about Joel that you've been fighting against since you first met him finally winning.

Every time you've forced yourself to stare at your hands after the edge of Joel's shirt rode up as he reached for something or moved a certain way. Every stray thought that rooted itself in your mind like an invasive species while you patched him up after a rough day. Every painfully overwhelming moment where you let yourself get distracted by his hands for reasons you could never justify. Those same hands are on you right now.

Okay--you need to get it together. Stop playing at something that's definitely all in your head. Your eyes drift up, searching for Joel's expression in an attempt to convince yourself to be normal. To remind yourself what's at risk if you don't get what you've been begging yourself not to let be actual romantic feelings in check.

He's already looking at you, eyes focused and jaw so tense you can tell from your position. Joel presses his lips together. The hand that's on you shifts upwards. Nothing drastic, but the heat of his pinky is now melting into the skin above your ribs.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from letting a shaky breath escape you. It's too much and nowhere near enough. It's another contradiction that throws you through a loop. You need him closer and the desire twists at you even further. There's a level of hesitant care in all levels of him. In his touch, in the way he's watching you. Like he just can't help it.

It's so overwhelming you have to do something. So you do the only thing you can think of. You reach out to him. Your hand finds his upper forearm.

The motion seems to shift things. Joel lets out a breath, but it's not the easygoing sound it was earlier. It's strained. "Y'should get some sleep."

You're not all that tired anymore, but his tone and your own confusion makes you want to listen. At least he hasn't done anything to imply that he's leaving.

A part of you wants to leave it at what it is. There's no reason to risk his presence by pushing. You don't know what that last moment was about, but Joel's earlier gruffness from today seems to be coming back. "You okay?" The question feels awkward hanging there on its own. "You've been moody."

The hand still under your shirt adjusts with him. "Moody?"

"Mhm." His fingers ghost up your spine, making it twice as hard to organize your thoughts. "More earlier than now, when..." God, you can barely remember with the way he's tracing patterns onto your skin. "When we were with that group?"

Joel's lips briefly pull into a frown. "I know that Jackson people are a little different than us, but trusting them all so soon--" He cuts himself off briefly. "Just don't think it's a good idea for you to accept it all so--"

He pauses as you shift against him as you move to sit up. Joel watches the separation with sharp caution. He doesn't ease until you settle again, your chin resting against his stomach. "Seriously?" It's a lighthearted enough disagreement. "I'm not overly trusting anything. I feel like a crazy person half the time because I feel like I should be staring down anyone that talks to Ellie or you for a second too long."

The confession eases Joel much more than it should. It's proof that he's been searching for...proof that he's needed. That you're still here. Still his and Ellie's above anything else.

But it's been an unsure couple of days. You're good with people, likable in a natural way. You know how to make people feel easy. It's not your fault that you're the natural communicator in the trio, and it's a good thing that at least one of you is inclined towards that sort of thing. It's just been harder than he thought, to watch people always talk to you, even if it's just a way of communicating something to all three of you. Especially when you smile or laugh as another way to ease them.

It's even worse when it happens to be other men. You don't see it, the way their eyes linger or their tendency to lean in just a little too close. Don't know the way your polite smiles and words draw them in. There isn't exactly a plethora of new women appearing daily, so your novelty is only an amplifier to all your good traits.

Tommy's been giving him shit about it. How long did you have to close the deal on that when you were her only option?

It was an almost brotherly form of teasing, but it still rubbed Joel the wrong way because of how true it is. He can't justify the bitter, protective vile that leaves his chest feeling too tight when he sees how well you fit. How easy it'd be for you to end up with one of the guys from here, closer to your age and a lifetime less of baggage.

Joel hates the breathlessness of it, hates that he has time to think about these kinds of things now. The resentment is too much, bubbles up and comes out in the form of something mean, "Doesn't always look that way."

It's not an overly done insult, and somehow that's worth. Joel's faint accusation is personal and it lands the way he knew it would. You sit up so quickly, Joel can't even try to stop you. "What the fuck does that mean?"

The bed is small, clearly meant for one. Sitting up didn't exactly accomplish what Joel has to assume was your goal--to create distance. You're still tangled together, only it's different now. You're practically sitting on his lap. His mind, which should be focusing on the fact that he's upset you, that he's pushing you in the exact direction he doesn't want you to go in, can only think of your sleep shorts.

Maria promised to get you some pajama pants as soon as some came in, but that hasn't happened yet. Winter makes clothing a little scarce, so you've been managing in a pair of elastic shorts. Thin, elastic shorts.

"Just that it looks like you've been getting comfortable. Trusting others, spending time with Ben."

Your lips pull into a firm pout. "I'm not going out of my way to trust shit. Yeah, I talk to a lot of people, but that's just because I rather that than have them talk to you or Ellie first. It--it feels safer that way."

There's such a genuineness in that, Joel almost feels bad, almost feels the need to back step. But your indignation at the implication that you're trying to leave is too alleviating. Until you try to crawl towards the edge of the bed. Away from him.

Joel props himself up on his elbow and reaches for you. His hand finding your forearm feels like giving something up. A silent, too raw plea for you not to go. He knows it isn't quite that in so many words, but you understand. You always do in your talent for feeling the way he bends for you when he can.

For a moment, that's it. Just his hand on your arm, still perched on the edge of the bed, still flighty. One move and you might be gone. It'd be so easy.

Joel's never really considered himself a pissing on his territory type of person or one to be found of dependents, but he'd be lying if he didn't say Jackson didn't worry him. He's not an idiot, he knows he's been rough to travel with and that he's taken time to get to here, but you've always stayed close. Some of that must have been influenced by survival.

Not that Joel wants you to stick around because you have no other choice. He'd never use that against you, it's just something that he wonders about from time to time. A fear that this might be how he finds out that's the only reason the two of you have been together for so long.

He's been thinking about loss more lately. After the decision he made, after what almost happened to Ellie. Losing Sarah left him stagnant for 20 years and some days that grief still flares up and makes breathing feel impossible. It's a wound that will never fully heal, and maybe that's for the best. Hurt means not forgetting, but Joel knows he doesn't have anymore of that left in him.

What if he did just fuck everything up? Not just for him, but for Ellie as well. He sees the way she looks at you, like you're everything. He's peered into your mornings together, the world that is your little routine and your inside jokes. If he messed all of that up because he only knows how to be an asshole when any type of feeling comes up...

Joel knows action better than he knows words. Caring is easier an action, and so is apology. His hand releases your forearm, trailing down your arm and settling on your exposed thigh. When you don't push him away or try to move, Joel feels like he can fully inhale again.

"You know my priorities, right?" Your voice sounds more hesitant than before. Nervous. "It's you and Ellie. It's been you and Ellie and nothing's going to change that. It doesn't matter if we're here for two more days or two more decades."

A pinch of guilt rises in his chest. Normally that level of promise would make him feel the need to cut all ties. Safer that way. But Joel doesn't want to hold you at arm's length, not right now. Carefully, his hand moves forward, closer to your inner thigh than knee.

He should say something. Admit to his own insecurity or apologize. "I know," is all that comes out, even though it doesn't really matter, you have every right to walk away. Your eyes still soften, though, like he managed to come close to saying what you needed to hear. "I shouldn't have said that."

His hand moves up even further and this time you have to react, your breath catching itself on your throat. The noise fucking gets to him. Gets to him in a way nothing has in a minute.

"You're kind of an asshole, sometimes," it's breathed out in a way that feels like you're accepting his apology, "And it's only going to get worse as you settle into your old age."

There it is. The joke was forced through the uneven timbre of your breathing, but it's there. All you, all forgiveness in the way the corner of your mouth turns upwards.

Joel's thumb drags across the soft skin of your inner thigh, "So now I'm already there?"

You blink, unsure on how to react to anything with his hand tenderly working the skin of your inner thigh. Everything in you is only capable of focusing on the feeling, of chasing it. "Getting there." Joel's thumb and pointer finger briefly pinch at your skin in a way that has to be intentional, right? His touch is approaching the end of your shorts.

The closer he gets, the worse the distance feels. Your face feels like it's burning at the thought. This is Joel, not some random guy that things could be casual with. Or maybe he could be casual, but you--god, you're getting ahead of yourself. This isn't--it--

"Too old?" Joel stretches forward, sitting up a little more. "You lookin' for younger like Ben?"

There's something odd in his tone. A flat attempt at humor that misses because it's too straightforward. Ben. Again. This is the second time his name's come up tonight. Why? And that's not even the strangest part. His assumption is what sticks out the most.

"I'm not..." Fuck, his hands are killing you. "I'm not looking. Not actively and if I..." Okay, it's officially too much, he's turning you into a transparent puddle. His hand pauses and pulls back down, settling on your knee. Firmly. Unbudging in a silent demand to continue.

He traces circles onto your knee with his thumb. "You can say it," he encourages in a way that feels like he's patronizing you.

The words feel like too much. Some lines might have been crossed today, but nothing life changing. You two could still dismiss the whole thing, crawl beneath thin sheets, fall asleep, and wake up the next morning like nothing ever happened. But his hands on your thigh and the needy ache you're not sure you fully understand it left you with. And what it felt like to have him closer.

Joel's sitting up fully now, waiting. "If I was looking, it wouldn't be at Ben, it'd be..." His hand calmly trails back to its previous spot on your leg with each of your words. Fuck, you're struggling to think again. "At you."

At that, his fingers push upwards, touching directly between your legs. "Really?" He's quick to create a steady rhythm, pulsing his pointer and middle finger at a speed that makes it impossible to breath. Your eyes screw shut so tightly you see stars. "You're so wet, can feel it through those shorts of yours."

The way Joel's voice catches on itself makes a weak sound slip out. You'd be embarrassed by it if he gave you the chance to be, but before you can even think twice about it, Joel's free hand finds the back of his head. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls you forward so harshly you try to gasp. The sound doesn't make it out, Joel's mouth is on yours before it has a chance.

He holds you against him as he takes his time pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth and letting his tongue glide over the bites. Your mouth opens for him instinctually, asking for more.

Joel's taking his time and moving at a speed that has him everywhere all at once as his fingers continue to work you through the fabric that divides you. He releases you with no warning, the hand at the back of your head finding a new place right beneath your chin. His fingers pause, forcing out an instinctual whine.

He's panting near your ear in a way that makes you miss his touch even more. "So this is all for me, sweetheart?" His eyes flit from your face back down to your lips.

Even though the question is dripping with roughness, there still manages to be a hint of something else there. Something genuine. It doesn't matter, though, because all you have the willpower to do is nod. Joel turns his head, pressing a kiss to your temple that's so close to tender it leaves you spinning. He trails the barely there kisses down to your ear before whispering, "Then prove it."

The word's send a jolt through you. "Prove it?"

Joel tugs you closer, you listen clambering back to where you were before trying to leave. Joel rests his back against the wall and makes a point of extending one leg. You don't fully get it until he's helping you ease onto his thigh. The material of his sweats is nowhere near enough.

"Joel--"

"Sh," he hums, soothingly as he runs a hand up and down your back, "It's okay, sweetheart." The hand that's still on your hip squeezes firmly. "I've got you, y'know that." He helps pull you forward on his thigh and the pressure after so long without nothing hits you harder than you thought it would. "There you go," you push down harder, faster, "Just like that."

The longer you go, the more Joel encourages you, whispering sweet nothings and words of encouragement as the knot in your stomach continues to grow until your body feels it. You're seizing up, body ready to throw itself off of a ledge. Your thigh squeezes around his leg, which must be how Joel knows you're close, because before you can find release, his hand is leaving your back and moving onto your arm. In one, fluid motion that should be impossible, he flips you two.

Your back is on the mattress and Joel's above you, pinning you in place with his body. You can feel him, all of him, hard and struggling between the layers that divide you.

Your lips part, but you don't know what to say. You're still reeling from your stolen orgasm, and you're not sure if you want to curse him out for it or simply ask why and how. Bad back your ass the way he just turned the two of you over with no real effort.

Before a single sound can come out of you, Joel folds the edge of the T-shirt you sleep in, exposing your stomach. A fluttery kiss to newly exposed skin. Again and again until he has to push up even more of your shirt to continue. "This," his voice comes out lower, harder as he tugs at the fabric, "Off."

You sit up just enough to help him tug the shirt off as quickly as possible. The desperation makes it harder than it ever should be to take off a shirt, but the offensive piece of fabric eventually finds its way to the floor.

The bareness you feel is startling, even in this level of darkness. Joel doesn't give you a chance to let your mind wander or insecurity take root. His mouth is exploring the newly exposed skin immediately. It's a rabid mix of love bites and placating the irritated marks with soft passes of his tongue and genuine, devoted kisses.

It's then that you realize there's a reason he's taking his time. He's definitely hard, you can feel him pressing against your thigh, but that doesn't matter to him. He's taking his time because he can. Because he's enjoying it, getting off on having you writhing and desperate under him.

"Joel," your voice is so small it feels like it belongs to someone else.

He pauses, lifting his head just enough that the scruff of his facial hair scratches comfortingly against your skin. A reminder that he's still him. "Yeah, sweetheart?"

You carefully lift a hand, making sure your movements are easy to follow in the dark. Joel lets your fingers settle in his hair. "Need more-need you."

"I know, sweetheart." His voice is low and soft, impossible to not trust. "You can wait a little longer." His teeth drag against your skin again. "Can't you, baby?"

Fuck, he could ask you anything like that and you'd have to say yes. "Mm."

He takes it as the answer it's supposed to be. Joel goes back to it until his fingers finally snag around the elastic band of your shorts. In one swift motion, he tugs it and your underwear away, leaving you fully exposed. He gives no warning before moving his mouth to your thighs, slowly moving up until the only thing left is your center.

With no warning, Joel licks through your folds. You practically cry out. "I know, sweetheart," he mumbles, barely looking up, "You can take it."

After that, he picks up the pace. Just as you think you're going to get used to the overwhelming pleasure, Joel moves his hand down your waist to use his thumb against your clit. Fuck. You're panting, whining, begging.

Joel groans. "You're close, I can feel you." His fingers replace his mouth, "You gonna come?" Another whine, like your body has forgotten how to make any other sound. "Yeah?" He's picking up the pace, pushing his fingers into you in a way that hits you somewhere deep. "Come on my fingers, sweetheart, I've got you."

His pace reaches its peak and his thumb works at your clit until you're finally pushed over the edge. Joel reaches you before you can scream, muffling the sound of your orgasm by pressing his lips to yours.

You can taste yourself on his tongue as he works you through your high. Joel knows when to stop, when the pleasure comes close to bordering on painful, he moves his hand back up your waist and focuses on just kissing you.

After a few minutes, you regain control of your thoughts. The urge to pull him closer takes over once again. Without thinking, you're tugging at the hem of his shirt. You almost think twice about it, but decide that it's only fair. He's touched so much of you and seen even more. All while fully clothed.

You're not as good or tactful about it as he is, likely due to the gap in your experience, but Joel picks up on what you want. He pulls away cautiously, eyebrows furrowing together like he's debating before finally giving in.

He discards his shirt just as carelessly as he got rid of his own. Joel tries to reconnect the two of you together again before you can take full note of him. It's a tactic you find the strength to beat, turning your head just enough to indicate that you're pausing.

Joel allows that, stills against with no protest. The silent promise that it's your pace is comforting. You let your eyes rake over his chest in what you hope is subtle, but really doubt actually comes off that way. You can feel him tense under your gaze. You stretch out a hand carefully, touching him because you can. Your attention focuses on the details that you can make out despite the limited light. A few marks of varying sizes are visible across his skin.

Scars. You wonder how many of them there are and the stories behind each. What it'd feel like to touch and learn each of them until they're as familiar as the lines of your palms. Your hand drifts down, faintly touching a particularly long mark.

Joel's hand moves, catching your wrist before you can make it any further. You frown up at him. "I want--"

"I--" He cuts himself off, unsure on how to explain it. You deserve to know what a war it will be to get him to open up, but he doesn't want that to change things. "Not yet, okay?" He squeezes your hand in his. "I'm not an easy person to care about, to get close to, but I--I can try to--"

"I disagree." He frowns at being cut off, but lets you continue. "And you don't have to worry about forcing anything right now, whatever you have to give, that's what I want."

That's all it takes. Joel crashes his mouth to yours, holding you there for much longer than before. He shifts away just enough to be able to pull down his pants. He strokes himself briefly before lining himself up with your entrance.

Joel enters you with no warning, easing himself in until your hips are pressed together. You're a mess despite his soothing words. He pulls back and pushes back, again and again until all you're seeing is white, blinding pleasure. "Fuck!"

"You're squeezin' me so good, sweetheart," his groans are hot and heavy against the shell of your ear. "Oh, sweetheart," he's losing his tact, his movements becoming more and more desperate. "You gonna come with me?"

You nod, eyes screwing shut as Joel picks up the pace until you're a mess again. He clamps a hand over your mouth as your second orgasm hits you fast and hard. It takes all of Joel's strength to pull out before finishing.

He lets himself relax against you after, a mess of sweaty limbs as you both recover. After a minute, Joel sits up. "You leaving?"

Joel brushes back your hair out of your face gently. "No, sweetheart, just need to get something to clean you up, okay?" You're about to protest again, but Joel beats you to it, "You don't want to sleep like this." When your only reaction is to pout up to him and cling to his arm, Joel leans down and finds a shirt to offer you. "Ellie's an early riser that never learned how to knock. You want to deal with this in the morning while pretending you're not?"

That's a point that sticks. You could probably explain Joel being in here early in the morning or he could climb out of your bed at first sunlight to keep this from being weird for Ellie...but your current state? Yeah, that's undeniable. "Come back?"

Joel squeezes your hand, taking a moment to watch your small expression fondly. "Promise."

[nex-ture]

Kisaki Tetta x male reader

Where they are childhood friends and Kisaki always had a crush on him but thought the reader would be disgusted so he never confessed

Until kisaki is in the hospital after Tenjiku (let's pretend he survived) and the reader storms into the room full on crying

Kisaki x Male Reader

Sometimes I forget I have a blog..this request is over a year old. When I got this request, I was an anime only, and now I've read the whole manga. I do love Kisaki, though, so I'm excited to write this!

This is my first actual fic in like..a year so, I'm sorry this is shitty. I also might have accidentally switched from 2nd person to 3rd..I did that a lot and had to fix it, though might have missed some.

MAJOR SPOILER WARNING: Tenjiku Arc

Y/n wasn't someone who really stuck out within a crowd of people. His grades were average, and nothing was really exciting about his homelife. Yet he was somehow friends with the overachiever of his class, Kisaki Tetta. Everyone knew who Kisaki was. They just didn't care. He was the nerdy little kid who's only personality trait seemed to be cowering away from any and all problems.

Kisaki and y/n were very close, and it wasn't rare for Kisaki to invite y/n over to his house for playdates or to help y/n study for the upcoming quiz. Kisaki yearned for the awaiting "Yes" every time he asked his friend. He loved hanging out with y/n more than he loved hanging out with Hinata. It was a strange feeling for him. He knew he "loved" Hinata, but, y/n?

It took a long time for Kisaki to finally come to terms with the fact that he truly did like y/n as more than a friend. He'd never really had a crush on a guy before. He never even considered two guys dating.

Even though he'd figured out his feelings, there was no way in hell he'd tell y/n how he felt. Y/n has been with him through everything. He didn't want this stupid crush to be the reason he lost his best friend.

Y/n was there for him when he was banned from Toman. He listened as Kisaki ranted about how this ruined his plans. His plans of getting Hinata and ruining Takemichis life. It saddened to y/n hear him gush about all the work he was putting towards some girl he barely even knew, but y/n would always listen.

Kisaki loved the way y/n would always listen. It seemed like y/n would follow him to the end of the world, and all he had to do was ask and ask he did. Kisaki asked y/n to join Tenjiku with him and take down Mikey. Of course, y/n didn't even give it a second thought. He immediately followed behind Kisaki.

Though the events of Tenjiku vs. Toman were not in Tenjikus favor. The death of Izana came, and to the blame of none other than Kisaki. He didn't mean to shoot Izana. He swears on it. Kisaki stayed down on the floor as Hanma came around with his bike. Y/n watched as they road off, Takemichi in tow.

Y/n quickly ran off, knowing an ambulance, and the police would be there soon. There was no point in sticking around. He had to wait patiently to hear what happened with Kisaki, after getting back home he had texted the blonde but got no response.

He knew Kisaki had the gun with him. There was no way he was in any danger. He was also with Hanma, who was well known for fighting others with no good reason.

Yet the same week, he got a dreadful call from Hanma. He could've sworn he stopped breathing when he heard Kisaki was in the hospital. He was hit by some distracted driver. If Takemichi hadn't called an ambulance, the doctors were sure it would have been fatal.

As soon as the call ended, y/n hopped off his bike and headed over to the address Hanma had sent him. Making his way through the hospital and check-ins was stressing him more out by the minute. The only thought in his head was, "Is Tetta okay?".

Finally, he could go in to visit his friend after what felt like a year. Kisaki laid staring up at the ceiling, and now the door as y/n walked in. He couldn't describe in words how happy he was to see the boy. He was fighting back tears as he tried to read what the other was thinking, how pitiful he probably looked.

Broken bones, he was broken, in body and in spirit. Y/n didn't even notice he was crying until the tears fell. He quickly went over to Kisaki, closing the door behind him. He placed his hand on Kisaki's shoulder as he saw the condition the other was in. It was hell for him. "I'm so sorry.. I wasn't there for you."

The only words he could muster out came in a low whisper as he laid his head in the crook of Kisaki's neck. Tears filling up his own eyes at the sight of y/n crying...over him? They'd been together so long that he didn't realize how much y/n actually cared about him.

His breath grew heavier as he cried loudly. He was never one to be quiet when crying. It was like he was 8 again, crying over some half asses delinquents who came to beat y/n and him up. They never even got to lay a finger on him. Yet he cried every time because they were hurting...y/n.

Y/n had always been there to protect him. He wanted to protect his friend, but the only thing he seemed to have focused on was Hinata Tachibana. When y/n was there for him the whole time. She was the only woman who spoke to him, but y/n was the only guy who cared about him.

"I.. I'm sorry.." he spoke slowly, the accident didn't come without its permanent damages. His crying slowed as y/n lifted his head to look at his. "I..I love.. you, " Tetta muttered out the phrase as the tears started up again.

His mind started racing. Why did he say that? He was going to lose his friend. He was a freak, yet why was y/n smiling...why was y/n laughing...why was y/n still touching him? "I love you so much, Tetta." Y/n always knew exactly what to tell him. He needed y/n in his life to be happy.

He turned his head slowly in y/ns direction as they stood up from his hospital bed. "R... really? This..whole time I...I thought you would leave m...me for saying that.." his words slurred as his stutter, he couldn't tell if it was from the accident or the fact his heart was beating out of his ass.

"I wanted to confess for so long -" Y/ns laughter died down as they spoke. "-but you were always talking about Hinata, so I never knew how." Y/n looked down at Kisaki with a soft smile. Tettas tears slowed as he grabbed onto y/ns hand. "I'm so h...happy." Tettas' smile was faint, but it was there. Maybe something good did come out of this terrible situation..